SAME GOAL, DIFFERENT AIMS

Launched the same year and targeting the same market, these two were destined to be rivals. Driving them back to back is the only way to see which has the upper hand

These two British saloons are credited with establishing the UK’s executive car market. Both were launched at the 1963 Earls Court Motor Show and applauded for being thoroughly modern; the Rover was the first-ever European Car of the Year, and the Triumph’s good value package offered plenty of equipment, excellent road manners and a six-cylinder engine.

Both cars saw their ranges evolve and that’s how we arrive at this particular twin test, where the ultimate versions of this ground-breaking pair face-off.

The Triumph was revised to MkII spec in October 1969, exactly 12 months after the fuel-injected 2.5 PI had made its debut. It was rather more than a facelift; it was, in fact, completely restyled inside and out.

The Rover 3500S appeared two years later. The V8-engined Rover had been auto-only up until then, so the manual gearbox S offered several performance benefits with none of the drawbacks – even fuel economy was largely unaffected.

With the Rover V8’s 50-year milestone having been marked throughout this year, and the petrol-injected Triumph 2.5 due to reach that same anniversary in the New Year, now’s the time to decide once and for all which executive is best.

MAKEOVERS AND LITTLE LUXURIES

The Rover P6’s appearance changed very little over the course of its life – unsurprising, really, given the complexity of its monocoque substructure, with its bolt-on panels. The Triumph, on the other hand, was refreshed by its original designer, Giovanni Michelotti, blending the original centre section with a longer bonnet and boot.

There is a cleanness to the 2500 PI’s lines. Chrome is used sparingly around the window surrounds, the sill edges and to frame the grille and quad lamps, but not at all on the car’s flanks. Both cars’ bumpers are slim, but a lack of overriders on the Triumph adds to its modern minimalism.

The two cars differ stylistically the most from the back; it’s a neat Kamm tail for the Triumph, whereas the Rover’s tailfans, though not particularly pronounced, echo a bygone era. That said, there’s a real wow-factor about the Rover’s front; the bonnet bulges and honeycombe grille give it a far more imposing look. By comparison, the Triumph’s blander, less cluttered lines work against it; where the Rover is muscular, the Triumph is more elegant.

There’s no wood inside the Rover 3500S – instead there’s plenty of plastic for the modern-looking dashboard, beneath which deep vertical pockets are fitted on both sides. The thick Ambla seats are stupendously comfortable, all the more so on our test car, whose perches have recently been reupholstered.

The Triumph 2500’s cabin is no less smart; in fact it’s far airier, owing to a greater proportion of glasswork resulting from that low waistline. The dashboard, too, feels far more low-set; unlike the Rover, the Triumph’s dash is a flat panel of matt wood veneer that curves in front of the driver, creating the impression that the speedometer, rev counter and eight-way warning lights are all angled towards him/her. There are neatly recessed door handles and armrests on all the doors, and the brushed nylon seats are incredibly comfortable. The Triumph lacks the Rover’s luxurious feel, however.

Overall visibility is good in both cars, but the way in which the 2500 PI’s bonnet line falls away can make placing it on the road difficult, a problem that the peaks on the Rover’s front and rear lights solve at a stroke.

MAKING A CHANGE

It’s fair to say that manual transmission has a profound effect on the Rover 3500’s character. The ex-Buick V8 engine is famous both for delivering its power smoothly and providing enough torque to ensure its power can be accessed easily, regardless of what speed the engine is spinning at – exactly those qualities that shine through in the automatic 3500.

But there’s another side to this engine, more aptly demonstrated by the likes of the so-engined Morgan Plus 8 and TVR Chimaera. The fact that the 3500S isn’t blunted by a torque converter means it loses none of its flexibility when mated to a manual gearbox; if anything, the eagerness of its throttle response makes it decidedly sporty.

Just how quickly ratios can be changed really reinforces this impression. The movements required at the lever are short and crisp, the travel required at the pedal to release and engage the clutch minimal. The ratios, unsurprisingly, are widely spaced to make the most of the V8’s pulling power, meaning it can comfortably cruise in third on single carriageways without the need to drop down, either to overtake or negotiate curvier stretches of B-road.

That’s not to say that the Triumph doesn’t share many of these qualities. It sounds just as sporty – even more so, in fact – growling where the V8 wuffles, while the fuel-injected six-cylinder is incredibly smooth and flexible. Unfortunately, in the case of this particular car at least, the engine is mated to the optional Borg Warner three-speed automatic gearbox.

While it operates as you’d expect (barring perhaps a certain fussiness when shifting between Drive

’The Triumph is smooth and sounds just as sporty as the Rover, growling where the V8 wuffles’

and Reverse – the lever has to be positioned just-so within the gate before the gears will engage) we’re not entirely convinced that it suits the Triumph’s character. This is despite the fact that the powerassisted steering makes it a particularly relaxing car to drive – whereas the Rover is more of a relaxing car to be in. The Triumph clips along nicely enough and gear shifts are smooth, but kickdown is rather lethargic and demands a heavy right boot.

But paying extra for an automatic gearbox on the Triumph pales into insignificance in the face of choosing not to specify the 3500S with Adwest Variamatic power steering. With it, the Rover would’ve been much akin to the Triumph; the 2500 PI’s rack-and-pinion steering feels light, if not a little ponderous, at parking speeds, but sharpens and weights up nicely at speed, with only small corrections needed, thereby avoiding the feeling that you’re constantly sawing at the wheel. In short, it’s responsive, without being overly sensitive.

As matters stand, manoeuvring the unassisted 3500S at low speeds is something of a chore. It does lighten up once you get going, but the Rover always feels like a big, heavy car, whereas the Triumph is far more agile and lithe, despite having slower acceleration. The smaller, leather-rimmed rim that would’ve replaced the humongous wheel in front of us would also have made the Rover feel far less barge-like, and go some way towards masking the cam and roller steering’s inherent vagueness.

Nonetheless, the Rover is still the more engaging of the two to drive enthusiastically. The aforementioned solidness translates into taut handling; unlike the far more softly sprung Triumph, the Rover doesn’t lean in the corners, yet it also manages to cope with rough ground admirably, where the Triumph is much more reliant on its seats to cosset the driver.

WHEN LIFE GETS IN THE WAYÉ

It’s understandably easy to get carried away by the driving experience that the 3500S offers. There is, however, an elephant in the room, which rather dampens its real-world use. Simply put – it’s just not as practical as the 2500 PI.

Where the Triumph is a genuine five-seater, the Rover can only accommodate four, and its rear legroom is noticeably inferior, too. Then there’s the boot space. The P6’s low sill certainly makes it easier to load heavy shopping and luggage, but the presence of the spare wheel eats into the available space, which already isn’t as generous as the Triumph’s. You could pay extra in period to relocate the spare on to the boot lid, but, all aesthetic considerations aside, it obscures rear vision and so is a less-than ideal solution to maximising space.

So is that it, then? Should all of that dissuade you from searching out a 3500S? Absolutely not, because it would take much more than such a trifling technicality to cause Rover’s sumptuous family sports saloon to lose out in the final reckoning.