Triumph TR7
If received opinion is believed, sports cars died in the Seventies. Comfort-orientated buyers rejected raw, roofless cars in favour of slick coupés, sports-saloons and hot hatches. But this isn’t true. As the cars we’ve gathered at the Longcross test track today prove, the breed evolved dramatically, feeling the radical influence of Italian supercars and lairy Modsports racers alike. But because they’ve languished in the shadow of lauded Fifties and Sixties predecessors for so long, and suffered sweeping criticism regarding the fashions and build quality of the era, values are relatively low. But the critics are falling silent, and nostalgia for an era of great music, loveably lurid fashion and larger-than-life motor sport characters reigns. And that makes it an ideal time to buy a car that encapsulates it all – especially as they’re bargains. The Triumph TR7 has come in for more criticism than any other car here. Lumped in with BL duds like the Allegro and Marina, it was regarded as bland and tepid compared to its old-fashioned but charismatic TR6 predecessor, not to mention badly-built. And yet as I fire the engine and work my way up through the gears, the overwhelming impression I get is one of smooth slickness.
The gearchange has a beautifully engineered action to it, the unassisted steering heavier than expected but it’s wonderfully precise with plenty of feedback, and the driving position is laidback and sporty, mirroring the car’s lines. Critics accuse the TR7 of being saloon-like, but if that saloon is a sporty one, what’s the problem? After all, any Seventies sports car driver would have feared the appearance of a Triumph Dolomite Sprint or Ford Escort RS2000 looming in their rear-view mirror.
The sleek windscreen does a great job of channelling the air over my head as I pick up speed, exposure to the elements governed more by whether I have the side windows up or down. It’s a civilised form of roofless motoring and it’s interesting to note that TVR followed the TR7’S refined air-cleaving design lead in the Eighties.
If there is one element that makes pressing on in a basic eight-valve, four-cylinder TR7 less enticing, it’s the Dolomite-sourced engine. It doesn’t really like to rev, sounding increasingly coarse over 3000rpm. But use its torque instead and it’s much more satisfying, because it can carry a lot of speed through the corners.
It’s unexpected, given that production compromises lumbered the TR7 with a live rear axle when independent rear suspension was in the original engineering brief, but it’s so well-located and controlled that it doesn’t matter. When the car was new, Motor Trend actually compared the TR7’S ability to maintain high cornering speeds to that of the Lotus Europa and the new Dino 308GT4 – something Triumph was all too happy to draw attention to in its adverts. It’s a great, well-planted platform that remains stable and level, slashing at apexes with barely a squeal from the rear. It’s a comfortable ride too, soaking up ripples without shuddering and creaking. It’s genuinely reminiscent of a Lotus Éclat, and I suspect the rare 16-valve Sprint variant would give the Hethel GT cause for concern, especially bearing in mind that it handles even better as a coupé
But as an eight-valve, it needs to be compared to the MGB that it was intended to replace in the BL hierarchy, and it does this
admirably. If you’re considering a ’B but find decent ones overpriced, the TR7 may actually be a better bet. We found a convertible in dazzling refurbished condition in Cheshire for £4750, and another in need of a few basic jobs in Worcestershire for just £4000. That was chrome-bumper MGB money 10 years ago. Interestingly, as well as Sprints and V8s, it’s the early, brightly-coloured Speke-built four-speed hardtops that are making more money at the moment – between £7k and £12k – even though dropheads like this were better made and tended to be cherished.
Rust breaks out everywhere and devours TR7S. Pay particular attention to the sills – if they’re rotten through, repair simply won’t be economical, bearing in mind that although repair panels are available, replacement bodyshells aren’t. The engine is simple but doesn’t suffer fools, so check for evidence of annual coolant and oil changes, and a replacement timing chain every 4000 miles. Walk away from any sign of a blown head gasket – replacement is tricky due to angled bolts. A replacement engine, if you can find one, will set you back £1500. Elsewhere though, parts supply is almost at MGB levels and prices thanks to the efforts of Rimmer Brothers.
‘It’s a well-planted platform that remains level, slashing at apexes with barely a squeal’