The Mini (And Me)

Alexander, later Sir Alec, Issigonis.  After the Suez oil crisis of 1957, Austin's management
green-lighted the revolutionary small car experimental design he had been working on.  It
wasn't, and hadn't been, developed as a successor to the Morris Minor.  Instead, it was
intended to be the smallest, most fuel-efficient "real" car that could carry four adults.
The Mini's small size forced some innovative packaging and technical solutions.
A sporty ginat-killer with brilliant handling was the last thing on Sir Alec's mind.

Here's a link to the Wikipedia piece on Alex Issigonis:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alec_Issigonis

Automotive design history, as it pertains to compact cars, can be divided into Before Mini and After Mini.  Cars had existed for over 60 years until someone did a front, transverse engine, front-wheel-drive car.  After the Mini, for 60 years, there has one way to do a compact car: that way.  When Volkswagen and Honda did their first new "clean sheet" subcompacts in the early 1970's, they copied the Mini's architecture.  And so on.  The Mini was the prototype of today's World Car.

I was dimly aware of the Mini when it was introduced here in 1960, and completely missed its point. It struck me as an anti-Beetle: water-cooled, overly-complicated front drive "just to be different."  The Mini abandoned the body-on-frame construction of its conventional predecessor, the Morris Minor, for the unit-body construction of the Beetle.  But it retained the Minor's cast-iron engine, which was heavier and far less reliable than the Beetle's aluminum air-cooled unit.  The Mini's 10-inch wheels seemed ridiculous (which they were, for American Interstates).  It did not occur to me that the Mini was a "clean sheet" design.  I completely missed the point of the Mini's ability to carry 4 adults (and very little else) in a car weighing only 1400 lbs., with innovative and superb fully-independent rubber suspension, designed for Issigonis by Alex Moulton.  So I missed its sporting potential too.

It was all about the packaging or, if you prefer, shrink-wrapping four adults into a car.  The U.K. did not have many
motorways when the Mini was designed, so "B Road" capability was fine.  (In the early 1960's, European car firms
were still exporting whatever they had designed for their domestic markets, with no modifications, let alone doing
a car for the U.S.--or each other.)  Ten-inch wheels provided more cabin space and less weight.  Sliding windows
required no window-winding mechanisms and made room in the doors for storage pockets.  The original Mini
had an 850 c.c. engine when the V.W. Beetle had just been upsized from 1.1 to 1.3 liters: 50% larger.  The Mini
was, at bottom, a response to the very real possibility of petroleum shortages in the U.K.  And spartan.

The scales fell from my eyes at Mid-Ohio in 1961.  A brand-new Mini-Cooper (with more power from a 1.3 liter engine and front disc brakes) showed up at an SCCA Regional race.  It ran against the G & H Production Sprites (&c.) and won.  So the Stewards let it run against the F & E Production MGA's (&c.).  It won.  So the Stewards let it run in the C & D Production race against aging Jaguar XK 120's and Alfa Veloces (&c.).  It finished respectably.  Shortly thereafter, the Mini-Cooper scored several overall wins in the Monte Carlo Rally.  Having a lifelong weakness for giant-killers, I was enchanted.

When I was thinking about my first car--which had to be a cheap used car--I stumbled across a 6-year-old Mini that a young imported car mechanic had been starting to prepare for racing, but decided to sell to finance the purchase of a new Hillman Imp.  (I don't know how he did road racing the Imp, but it was a better bet than a well-worn 850 c.c. Mini with tiny front drum brakes.)  He had stripped out the Mini's interior (except for the passenger seat) and painted it battleship grey with a brush.  He had installed a racing seat belt and a big chrome Sun tach--just like the drag racers used.  He had installed twin S.U. carbs, and a big Alfa Romeo resonator at the end of the Mini's straight exhaust pipe.  Best of all, he'd mounted Dunlop SP 41 high performance radial tires on the 10-inch wheels.  I loved that car.  It felt fast, and it was fast--around tight corners.  I drove it for two years, until it burned an exhaust valve and I left for graduate school 600 miles from home.

This is Mini #1 off the assembly line, now in a museum.  Mine looked just like it--except for a red grille and silver wheels
with fatter high performance tires on them.  With a stripped-out interior, mine was surprisingly roomy: enough to haul
my stuff back and forth to and from college.  And noisy.  Which didn't bother me then and doesn't much now.  The car
was huge fun on back roads.  It's maximum cruising speed was a bit north of 60 m.p.h.  So it didn't see Interstates.

Since my those days, I've owned some interesting cars (and some real duds).  But none that I enjoyed more than the Mini.   I love to watch them race: 50 years of giant-killing.  Whenever I encounter one in a parking lot (oftener than you might think), it gets a good look-over and a chatted-up owner, if he's around.

The real deal (Mini-Cooper with modern modifications, done in Monte Carlo Rally style and colors.  With a Nordschleiffe
sticker on the trunk.  Seen in St. Hubert, Belgium.  I would have chatted up this owner too, except that he and his pals
spoke only French, and I speak only English.  Mini-mania can be communicated without words, however.  With
pointed fingers, gestures, smiles, and grins.

When I needed a new daily driver in 2009, I didn't consider a New Mini for several reasons, the most important being that it didn't come with four doors.  The Civic Si looked like a good bet because 1) it performed well on my "bang for the buck" spreadsheet 2) my son had had good luck with his Hondas.  I wasn't expecting a Mini feel.  And shouldn't have: the Si weighs twice as much as an Old Mini. Weight is the enemy, as we know.  Air-conditioning, cruise control, electric windows, rorty through-the-gears but quiet cruising...  Any resemblance between Honda's world-class engines and gearboxes, and what B.M.C. did with cast iron back-in-the-day, are purely coincidental.  A real trunk!  Seventeen-inch wheels!  I'd have expected the electric power steering to have far less feel than the Mini's brilliant unassisted rack-and-pinion.

Yet, although the Civic Si is huge compared to a Mini (what isn't?), it feels small and agile.  Steering feel and grip are Mini-like, especially on Michelin Pilot Super Sports.  In a straight line, it goes like a rocket compared to the Mini.  With my limited skills, I've never been comfortable pressing a rear-drive car to or past the limit.  But the Civic Si inspires the same confidence that the Mini did: I've learned to push it into a tight corner hard: slow in, fast out, with the front tires on the limit and a bit more.  Huge fun!  Without fully knowing it, I'd been looking for another Mini for 50 years.  Found one!

1960 Mini: "When I grow up, I want to be a Honda Civic Si."

"Present At The Creation" (Allen Grant's Lola GT Mark 6)

Oh, my... Who knew?  A completely original version of what became the Ford GT!  Single-owner, purchased from Lola Cars in 1965, and it was almost Eric Broadley's personal "keeper" car, converted for road use.  Well... it's restored, but restored to "as original" for the London Motor Show in 1963.

And Allen Grant's interview with Jay Leno is as careful and meticulous as his restoration of the car.  And the provenance trail!  For instance, Grant's correspondence with John Wyer about buying a ZF gearbox when he intended to race this car, to replace the original-spec. Colotti box.

Ford said in 1964 that the Ford GT was a Dearborn design.  And it's certainly true that Ford went through the Lola GT from stem to stern, modifying it extensively in detail.  But still, Ford bought the rights to the Lola GT from Broadley, hired him as a consultant to help with the conversion and the build of the Ford GT, and retained most of the basic design.  Including the troublesome Colotti box and what turned out to be sketchy aero with a full-race 289 pushing the car up to 190 m.p.h.  Ford didn't conceptualize the Ford GT, Broadley did.

Here's the link to Jay Leno's excellent interview with Allen Grant about the car:

http://www.nbc.com/jay-lenos-garage/video/1963-lola-mk6-gt/3465225

Inauspicious Beginning

Chassis 102 at the Hotel de France, La Chatre sur-le-Loir, before LeMans, 1964.  This hotel was, and remained, John Wyer's favorite base of operations for LeMans from his earliest Aston Martin days.  This is a rare photo I'd not seen before.

In 2016, the Ford GT dominated LeMans from qualifying on and won the race in its maiden outing.

In 1964, the situation was precisely opposite.  The build of the first GT 40 was frantically completed at the end of March.  Instead of being endurance tested prior to LeMans Test Days (three weeks away), to John Wyer's disgust, Dearborn insisted that the car be flown to New York City for the Auto Show.  The only two GT 40's in existence did only four short test sessions at Goodwood.  Chassis 102 did only 25 miles.

At LeMans Test Days (April 18-19), Chassis 102 was damaged when Jo Schlesser discovered aero lift at only 150 m.p.h. (he was uninjured).  So much for small scale models "extensively wind-tunnel tested."  A rear deck spoiler was added, which solved the rear end problem for good, and was used on all GT 40's thereafter.  Fiddling with the front end began too, with "Version 1.1" shown in the pictures here.  The front was fixed permanently only with the complete revision by the "Len Terry Nose" in 1965.  Terry's revision became the standard (iconic) GT 40 nose for both factory and customer cars.

Chassis 102 in the LeMans race, 1964.  Note the modification of the nose and radiator intake from the picture above.

LeMans itself in 1964 was a disaster.  Chassis 104 (Richard Attwood/Jo Schlesser) burned to the ground when a fuel line broke.  Chassis 102 and 103 (#10, Phil Hill/ Bruce McLaren, and #11, Richie Ginther/Masten Gregory) retired early when their Colotti gearboxes failed.  The Colotti had been specified by Eric Broadley in 1963 for the GT 40's mother, the Lola GT.  Adequate endurance testing would have exposed its weakness.

Wyer immediately commissioned ZF to design a gearbox that could handle the torque of Ford's 289.  And he recommended that the GT 40 be withdrawn from competition until systematic endurance testing could be completed.  Instead, Ford entered the Reims 12 Hour race (July 4).  The cars again failed.  Wyer was removed from race team management and told to get on with the GT 40 production build.  Carroll Shelby managed the factory race team in '65, '66 and '67.  With the ZF gearbox and Len Terry nose, the GT 40 became all-conquering (on longer circuits with longer straights).

This was the car Wyer wanted to race.  But Ford blew by it with the Mk. II (7 liters) and the Mk. IV (a new chassis/body), which were Dearborn-developed.  Ford factory teams contested only at LeMans in '65, '66', and '67.  (Daytona and Sebring were used as tune-ups, but no European races were entered.)  This resulted in failure again (in '65) and then complete dominance (in '66 and '67).  Meanwhile,  Wyer had reasonable success in supporting customer cars at LeMans and other FIA races.

And he had the last laugh, when it came to the small block GT 40.  When Ford bailed on LeMans (in particular) and sports car racing (in general), it sold the rights to the car and everything that went with it to Wyer at a very attractive price.  This included the design, tooling, parts, spares and the Ford Advanced Vehicles building.  He would be responsible for continuing support of customer race cars.
Wyer updated the GT 40 with wider tires and a more powerful engine that featured Gurney-Weslake heads atop a full 5 liters.  He won a championship (something Ford had not attempted or accomplished) and LeMans twice more, in '68 and '69.  Pretty good "proof of concept" for a design that was six years old (a lifetime in race car years) at the time of its last major win.  Makes me wonder what might have been achieved in late '64 and '65 if the GT 40 had been thoroughly developed and tested in early to mid '64.

The '68-'69 Wyer-Gulf GT 40: essentially the 1964 car with wider tires and the Len Terry nose.

Rolling Art: Jaguar XKSS "Continuation" Video (Jay Leno)

Above: Ecurie Ecosse Jaguar D-Type Short Nose; Below: Jaguar D-Type chassis (model)

Jaguar D-Type central (aluminum) monocoque and front (tubular steel) subframe.

Here's a link to the Jay Leno video on the new "continuation" Jaguar XKSS:

http://www.nbc.com/jay-lenos-garage/video/the-new-jaguar-xkss/3428768

Return with me, now, to those thrilling days of yesteryear...

For much of its history, LeMans was a unique race.  The rules were written by the Automobile Club de l'Ouest (and still are).  Sometimes they accommodated cars built for the FIA's sports car championship, sometimes not.  After World War Two, the LeMans circuit was a special case too: smooth and flat with long straights and (mostly) tight corners.  Jaguar's solid rear axle worked perfectly fine there.  At longer, bumpier, circuits,  Jags were less competitive.

Doubtless because of Bentley's success at LeMans in the years around 1930, British sports car manufacturers were always more interested in LeMans than the FIA championship.  Before racing sports cars had bullet-proof reliability, the drama of a "last man standing" win in a 24-hour race gave British sports car manufacturers something to crow about when they (often) lacked the outright pace of continental race cars.

One reason I love postwar racing sports cars is that they were "freestyle," and so different from each other.  Ferrari (and Maserati) attacked LeMans with powah: 4 to 5 liter engines.  The Mercedes 300 SLR attacked it with technical sophistication and reliability.  Jaguar (and Aston Martin) attacked it with what they had in the parts bins for their road-going sports cars.

When the LeMans-winning C-Type became long in the tooth, Jaguar decided to put its proven (but underpowered) 6-cylinder engine into a radical new car: the D-Type.  The car's advantage would be light weight, a low-drag body, and improved disc brakes.  Malcolm Sayer, the designer, had a background in aircraft.

Sayer insisted on minimal frontal area and used an aircraft-style aluminum monocoque body/chassis center "tub"--an automotive first.  Tubular steel subframes hung from its front and rear to support the engine and suspension.  While this was no more rigid than the 300 SLR's fully-triangulated tubular space frame, it produced a lighter car.  The D-Type was both lighter and more rigid than Ferrari's twin-tube ladder frame.  Working with Jaguar, Dunlop developed a new (improved) brake/hub/wheel package that eliminated the brake fade of Mercedes and Ferrari drums while saving weight compared to the wire wheels customarily used.

The D-Type won LeMans in '55, '56, and '57.  Boom!  In fairness, it must be said that Mercedes probably would have won in '55 had it not withdrawn its team after the terrible accident: the 300 SLR swept the board except for LeMans.  When Jaguar decided to withdraw factory-entered cars from competition at the end of 1956, it had surplus chassis lying about.  What to do?  The XKSS.

Rant Re-Run (Driverless Cars)

State Senate President Cullerton of Illinois has introduced a Bill to tax drivers by milage driven.  He says this will help solve a problem--that the gas tax no longer adequately funds road maintenance in the State.  Cullerton blamed Toyota Priuses for the problem, which is just silly.  For one thing, the price of gas currently is half of its all-time high (so the tax take is half what it could be).  For another, I have not noticed Priuses selling like hotcakes over the past decade.  Full-sized pickup trucks, SUV's, and SUV crossovers are selling like hotcakes.

Cullerton's proposal would require more Nanny State (monitoring the location and use of vehicles), or a complex "apply for it" rebate system (to refund gas tax to drivers), or some (possibly less privacy-invading) combination of both.  This alone makes me confident that his idea will be a non-starter with voters.

But Cullerton raises some thought-provoking points.  Until now, point-of-sale fuel taxes have functioned well as user-fees for road construction and maintenance.  The more you drive, the more you pay.  As vehicles become more fuel-efficient, and as more alternative fuel and electric vehicles enter the fleet, fuel taxes become harder to collect, or avoidable.  The "automatic" revenue feature of user-fees dwindles while the need for road maintenance remains constant (or increases).  Something must be done to maintain the road budgets of the States.  And the Feds (also based on fuel taxes).

Of course enthusiast drivers resent the Nanny State.  We like to drive fast and sometimes aggressively.  We like to drive alertly, with situational awareness, and we decry those who don't.  If we're driving a late model car, vehicle dynamics are already monitored by continuous-loop data acquisition.  It's tamper-proof and admissible in court as evidence.  You can argue your own attentiveness and competence all day long in an accident case, but it will be an uphill battle against data that shows speed and g-forces.  I know an aggressive driver who runs his own dash camera continuously.  That way, he can at least introduce his data into evidence.  He's fighting fire with fire.

Insurance companies tout "apps" that allow parents to monitor use of a vehicle by their teenaged children.  Car companies tout "smart" cruise control that maintains distance, and automatic braking that "pays attention when you don't."  It's but one step from the current "lane drift alert" feature in some cars to a system that takes control from the driver.  And we're only a few lines of code, and some road re-striping, away from "intelligent" freeway merging and turn lanes.  How hard would it be to integrate Google Map smart phone technology with this?  You could program your destination into your car, and it would drive itself to your next destination.

For two years, I took the express commuter train from the far southwest suburbs into the Chicago Loop.  Compared to the aggravation of rush hour on the Stevenson Expressway, it was heaven.  The travel time was about equal.  I could read, or chat with a fellow passenger (noting his facial expressions &c.), or just look out the window and "decompress."  Many of my fellow riders used the time "productively" on their laptops.  If this flexibility were introduced into personal vehicles, you could arrive home with your work emails answered and your Facebook interactions updated.  Who wouldn't want that?

People are ping-able on their smart phones.  Some "check in" on Facebook regularly.  The social media culture is, often, an accusatory and shaming culture.  I am morally certain (can't prove it) that one of my own speed busts was caused by an Upright Citizen who used his cell phone to "drop a dime" on me.  Where is the evidence that average drivers, given the option of a Smart Taxi, would resent the Nanny State tracking their every move?

FuguZ

This car pushes my buttons.  A Nissan Skyline engine is the perfect transplant.  Yes, it's too loud, and a bit too spartan, the body kit is a bit too aggressive, and white would not have been my personal first choice of color.  But it's a track day car, and it's not my car.  It's hard to quibble with a car "done to taste" when that taste is so close to your own.  Brilliant effort!  Here's the Leno's Garage video:

http://www.nbc.com/jay-lenos-garage/video/1973-datsun-240z/3001553

Purdy Car, Purdy Picture

Dan Gurney, with his Eagle in 2002, in Burneville, reprising his 1967 Belgian GP win at Spa-Francorchamps.
"There was a big bump in the apex up there that unsettled the car."