MINOR MEMORIES

Many of us hold fond memories of our very first car or of one particular car from our past that stands out from the rest. Some of us choose to search for the same make and model that we owned decades previously, purely for nostalgic reasons.

This urge gets even more powerful when it comes to the very same car. We have two nice examples in this issue. Colin Waite discovered his old rally car languishing in a barn in Central Otago — a car he hadn’t seen for more than 25 years. Despite the car’s poor condition, Colin knew that he had to rescue it. He managed to buy it back and restore it to its former glory. Today, at 90 years of age, he still gets immense pleasure from the old Skoda and telling tales of the fun that he and Laurie Evans had competing in it in the early ’70s. Chris Steele went up against the New Zealand Transport Authority’s wall of silence to track down his grandmother’s Hillman Super Minx, which has so many happy memories for him. Chris says restoring the car has been an emotional journey for several members of his family.

I was recently reminded of my first car when I saw a very nice low-light Morris Minor reversing out of a driveway not far from where I live. My old 1950 Morrie wasn’t quite so pristine. The body was in fair condition, with no visible signs of rust, but I didn’t look to see what was probably lurking underneath. The 918cc side-valve engine was once, apparently, capable of an eye-watering 27.5hp (20.5kw) with a top speed of 64mph (103kph), but this kind of performance was well in its past. The burning oil and low compression were definitely a giveaway, and it would struggle at the slightest incline. Shifting gears was a hit-and-miss affair, and working the gear selector was akin to stirring lumpy porridge with a long stick. That didn’t matter, though; I was still very pleased with it.

My father was a real fan of Morris Minors, and decided I should upgrade to a later model. My ’53 Morrie was a definite improvement. The car

had been substantially re-engineered, and the new, modern, Austin-designed, overhead-valve, 803cc A-series engine felt so superior to my old car’s — although I still had similar issues with the sloppy gear selector. My girlfriend would often bring me large oval Parkercraft stickers from her work that proved ideal for placing over the rusty bits on my purple Morrie. It must have been a sight, but I thought it was the greatest thing since sliced bread.

Then, after I’d saved up a couple of hundred dollars, my father helped me find a 1960 Morris Minor 1000 for $450. I loved that car; the new overhead-valve 948cc engine was definitely a breath of fresh air, but what I liked most about it was the revised gearbox, which incorporated a remote selector allowing a shorter gear lever and less unwieldy gear-change action.

By this time, I was an apprentice, and, as a young working lad, I managed to clock up a fair few miles in the light green Morrie. One day — I think it was about 1974 — I was pulling into the driveway at work and my formerly trusty old Morrie decided to call it quits. The gearbox had seized, and it wasn’t going anywhere. It was towed away, never to be seen again.

Going shopping for another car turned up an unusual choice for a serial Morrie owner: a 1968 Holden HK Monaro GTS — but that’s another story.

Today, I often see very nice Morris Minors at various car shows. It always makes me think that I’d really like to own one again, for purely nostalgic reasons. It’s a powerful urge.

Ashley Webb

Editor