1966 Mg 1100 - The classic review part 2

1966 MG 1100: The Classic Review part 2 The doors are paper thin. The map pockets are only big enough to hold a single narrow book. The door cards are pinstriped. The seats are bathed blood red. The speedometer is a single sideways bar. The dashboard is an actual board. Though the whole car is featherweight, along with its controls, lots of the little devices in the car have a strength in their action. The choke on the dash has good resistance to it. Little hinges are solid polished metal. Everything has a satisfying click. If you’re curious about technical specs, I pulled these from the car’s glowing review in Autocar back in ’62:. Engine: 1,098 cc A-series iron block, iron head, pushrod inline four. Power: 55 HP at 5,500 RPM / 61 lb-ft at 2,500 RPM. Transmission: four on the floor, aw yeah, with no synchro on first. Drivetrain: front-wheel drive. Dimensions: 12 2. 7 long, 5 0. 4 wide, 4 4. 7 tall. Weight: 1,848 lb with half a tank. 0-60 mph: 18. 4 seconds. Seating: six? (British people were tiny back then, you could do 12). MPG: 29 overall. MSRP: £713 when new. The obvious thing becomes pretty apparent the moment you step in, turn the unbelievably tiny key (it’s like it’s for a charm box), and start driving around. No matter how obsessed with the details and the mechanical experience you are, the rest of the world just sees oh my goodness look at that adorable little car with the cute face. Lots of smiles and waves get exchanged. The MG 1100 itself has a kind of dutiful attitude about it, also not really interested in any of your obsessions. It goes brumble brumble brumble down the road and doesn’t worry about much else. As for that actual mechanical feel, the steering wheel is huge and unbelievably light, though the action of it is solid and clear. The gear lever is long and delicate, but not mushy or vague. The engine isn’t powerful, but its good low-down torque makes it feel strong pushing such a light car. The 1100 is unbelievably spacious on the inside, tiny on the outside. It tricks you into thinking you’re driving a huge car, vast and airy. It operates, though, like a sports sedan in miniature. Other cars are gigantic and bulky, hogging lanes, cocooning drivers in cheap soft plastic. The only thing about that is the MG doesn’t drive like a sports sedan you’re accustomed to, either. While there’s all the directness of something traditionally sporty, it’s a soft and almost gentle ride. You end up with something with the same kind of purity of vision and feel that makes people completely and utterly lose their *** for vintage Porsches, only the MG concerns itself with being a comfortable way for carrying four to six human beings around a small country. This kind of car, this kind of experience, doesn’t exist today. Cars that are this uncluttered and nicely put together are all super sports cars or hulking luxury rollers. Cars this roomy are absolutely huge and bulky. Cars this light and small are cheaply put together and dulled. I wish there was something new that filled this role, sweet like blackberries still on the bush.