Morris Minor
Ben awakens a dusty Morris Minor from its slumbers
Those two magic words –‘barn’ and ‘find’ – never fail to fire up the imagination of any classic car nut. Describe any old motor that’s been resting in a garage or lean-to for a few years as a ‘barn find’ and suddenly it becomes a lot more enticing, like buried treasure. Well, I don’t want to brag, but I really did find my latest classic purchase hiding at the back of a barn!
As you can see from the pictures, it’s a Morris Minor four-door saloon. Yes, I already own one, so there was absolutely no reason for me to buy a second. But when I spotted this one, waiting patiently for somebody to put it back on the road, I just couldn’t resist. What’s more, it has a really interesting story behind it.
Family favourite
Don’t be fooled by the registration number it’s currently wearing; this is actually a late-model Minor saloon. Comparing the chassis number with Ray Newell’s indispensable book Original Morris Minor suggests that it left the Cowley factory in summer 1969, but the logbook shows that it wasn’t registered until March 1970. However, the original Passport to Service booklet records that its first owner bought it that December, nine months later. Did British Leyland dealer, Westover Motors of Bournemouth, use it as a demonstrator? Or did it just sit around as unsold stock, an old-fashioned design in an increasingly hip new decade?
Either way, the same family owned this Minor during its first two decades and it reputedly covered very few miles. Then Ernesto Pegoraro, father of Minor-owning friend Carlo, bought it in 1992. Back then, Ernesto’s whole family drove Minors, so this one was pressed into service as a reliable everyday car. Fondly remembered and used as a stand-in if any of the family’s other cars were out of action, it could often be seen towing a sturdy home-made trailer full of hay bales.
It came off the road in 2003, with just 88,000 miles on the clock, for inner wing and sill repairs, but it was pushed to the back of a barn, unfinished and penned in by spares
and other cars as other projects jumped the queue for attention. The Minor was finally unearthed when the barn was cleared earlier this summer. I had to take a closer look.
Rising from the grave
Carlo and I wheeled the Minor out of its dark resting place after pumping air into the flat tyres. Surface rust had badly pock-marked the Smoke Grey bodywork and the offside front wing had been mislaid, but the more I looked at the underside, the better it appeared. The offside sill and crossmember end had already been very neatly repaired, with just a few other patches still in need of MIG attention. The sagging rear springs (possibly a legacy from towing) will need to be replaced, but the vinyl interior has survived.
Best of all, the engine burst into life almost instantly with a bit of ignition parts swapping and a lawnmower petrol tank connected to the carburettor. Letting the clutch pedal up caused the car to inch forwards. This Minor wanted to live! What’s more, it needed a new home – how could I not buy it? ‘It was always a good one, so look after it,’ said Ernesto as I set about trailering it away.
So, what now? The first stop will be the MOT station once I’ve finished the welding, replaced the braking system, rear springs and fuel lines and cleaned away decades of dust). Then maybe I’ll fit the period tuning parts intended for my split-screen Minor. Or maybe I’ll just leave it alone and simply enjoy having another Minor to trundle around in. Regardless, it will certainly be a fun winter project.