As some of you know I’ve had a space in the garage for a while since my beloved Brabus SL 55 AMG went to Silverstone Auctions last year.
And I’ve been determined to learn from the Brabus experience. While it was the ultimate supercar, at over 550 bhp, it was just too blinking capable and fast to be fun.
I decided that I needed to get back to basics, to find fun within the speed limit.
At the risk of asking to have my cake (Jubilee sponge, please) and being able to eat it, I’m after classic looks without the pain of old car ownership.
Here’s my thinking: I wanted a car that would be a challenge to drive.
There has to be reliability (a run round Scotland last month was ruined by our friends Alfa Romeo Spider Duetto always breaking down).
The cabin must be able to accommodate my bean-pole frame and size 12 shoes. That said I’m prepared to sacrifice some comfort for the experience. And, of course, the has to be a perfect example of the mark to satisfy my car obsessive-compulsive disorder!
Finding the right model
After months of disappointment kicking tyres the length of the UK I found the car, and, to be fair, the perfect Morgan dealer in Melvyn Rutter. Rosi Mog is the car’s name, and it was perfect in so many ways.
It is one of the last +8 models with a 4.0 litre version of the venerable Rover V8 (as found in TVRs, Land Rover products and kit cars in a lookie-likely AC Cobra way). And the specification was just what I wanted: no ABS, no traction control, no power steering, no boot (yes, that’s why you need a rack on the rear wheel) – although I might have gone too far with no door handles nor locks.
But look at what did I get: le mans style petrol filler cap, P700 period style headlights, wooden gear lever, brown leather interior, air-bag steering wheel, up-graded “easy-up” hood, and the clincher for me, the most perfectly forged body colour wheels with hand painted white lettering.
The Morgan +8 has been on my radar since my school days. A white 3.5 litre car was a winning card in “Top Trumps” circa 1973, with an astonishing 0-60mph time of 5.9 seconds.
A few years later as a student I remember a number of us discussing, over a pint, the idea of putting our names down on the massive waiting list for a +8, safe in the knowledge we could sell on the car for a profit or be so well heeled by the time of delivery we could afford to pay for it.
Back then a cult following, and low production numbers meant Morgan was able to get away with ludicrous waiting lists of up to 10 years.
Then in my working life I subjected many a student cohort to the John Harvey Jones 1989 TV programme Troubleshooter, where he gives excellent business advice to the Peter and Charles Morgan. Which they ignore.
But, having (almost) given up real ale, and not having a beard I didn’t think Morgan ownership was for me. I hadn’t even driven one until Adam Rutter took me out for a test drive in the as-new Rosi Mog. That was it, I didn’t even haggle, this beauty was coming home.
A few weeks later I flew a low-cost carrier Edinburgh to London Stansted, then took a quick rail ride from within the terminal to Bishops Stortford to be overnight in Mrs Rutters on site accommodation. Rosi Mog was sharing the accommodation in the garage below. How good is this set up?
The following morning the roof was down, and Adam waved me off. That drive was almost perfect as I pointed the +8 badge towards Scotland and pushed the Morgan logoed organ pedal into the blue Axminster.
Yes, the drive was more challenging than a real modern car, but it was so enjoyable living out my Toad of Toad Hall fantasies. And here’s a thing, everyone I met loved the car. Even young baristas at a roadside Starbucks all came out to admire Rosi Mog. Youngsters liking a car, how refreshing.
A warning sign
On the journey I was slightly perplexed by what I thought was an exhaust baffle noise on the passenger side, just by the rear wheel. I recorded the noise on my phone.
And by the time I got to the Bridge of Dee roundabout in Aberdeen there was a clonk in the steering when cornering. I reported my concerns to Melvyn and Adam, and they agreed that the Scottish Morgan garage should have a look.
I therefore took the car to Perth for a check-up and with nothing obvious on a quick inspection and test drive at the garage, I headed home again. While overtaking a truck on the A90, I got a nano-second of warning of a “tank-slapper” through the steering wheel, then the rear right of the car collapsed, delivering a gut churning metal on road noise.
For a few seconds I felt I was in an Indian Jones stunt, as sparks flew from the rear or the Morgan, while I held it in a straight line in the outside lane, looking up at the truck driver … Unaware of my plight.
Once the darg had slowed me down, traffic allowed me to steer into the inside lane to a halt, then, hazards on, I was out and over the barrier to safety. That was a close one.
Rosi Mog has since been repatriated to London, and my full payment was refunded. A sad end to Morgan ownership. The cause of the noise and incident was those wheels which I loved so much.
It became clear that it was an alloy wheel failure – the splined hub section of the alloy wheel itself had actually worked its way loose from the back of the wheel. Adam thinks it was a manufacturing defect.
As you read this, I’m preparing for travel to the Le Mans Classic in my old 4.5 litre 1972 Mercedes Benz.
I’ve always wanted to use the left-hand drive feature, but the 12 miles per gallon will be high price to pay. Will we make it? Watch this space.
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