1977 MGB Roadster made to travel Highway 1
Paul Van Emmerik has been around for 81 years, and he’s still feeling good. He is retired from the Federal Aviation Administration as an Aviation Safety Inspector and has settled in Discovery Bay, where he’s now lived for more than 20 years. Paul stays busy maintaining old boats and cars, and he plans to stick around a lot longer to enjoy his wonderful family.
I bought my 1977 MGB Roadster in 1978. The car had 10,000 miles on it, and belonged to a San Jose University student who didn’t like driving a four-speed stick shift on the Nimitz freeway.
I can’t remember if I paid $4,500 or $6,000 for it, and it doesn’t matter. I liked the car and didn’t bother to test drive it. I just jumped in and drove it to Pleasanton.
At the time I bought it, I didn’t know what the letters “MGB” stood for. The “MG” portion of the name came from the manufacturer, Morris Garages and the “B” stands for the model. Now I was the owner of a car with a history that started in 1924 in England and through many mergers is now manufactured in China.
It has made 1.5 million customers mostly happy, and lots of others that could not wait to get rid of them. Yes, they are temperamental, but when they’re running great, they are worth all the headaches.
A year or so after I bought the car, we took it on a long journey. Pleasanton to Las Vegas, the Grand Canyon, Lake Powell, Bryce National Park, Zion National Park, Salt Lake City, Boise, Seattle, the San Juan Islands, and Victoria, then back to Seattle and Highway 1 home to the Bay Area.
The car was made to travel Highway 1. The curvy roads and the ups and downs through the mountains are just fantastic for the driver. My wife in the passenger seat had different feelings however, and was not bashful about letting me know how she felt. “WATCH OUT!” and “SLOW DOWN!” are some of the things I can print.
After my carpool dissolved, the MG became my commuter from Pleasanton to the Oakland Airport and back. Yes, it did leak a bit when it rained. It also overheated at times going up the Dublin grade. But when the sun was shining, all was forgiven. With the top down and the wind in your hair, driving an MG is living large.
I am still so attached to this car that I won’t consider selling it, and nothing can take its place in the garage. The car has been garaged for 38 of its 39 years, with a dust cover added ten years ago for extra protection. My poor family sedan, which is worth much more than the MG, has to sit outside. At present the car has 92,000 miles and qualifies for insurance purposes as a classic. How much is it worth? A million dollars to me.
I am retired now and the car keeps me busy with perpetual projects. I replaced the clutch at 85,000 miles, also numerous fans, head gasket, brakes, light switches, etc. There are only two projects left now. One is that it likes to leave its mark wherever I park, a problem I may have to live with. The other is that it wants to go too fast when Dave Brubeck is in the tape deck playing “Take Five.” I guess I’ll live with that one, too.
When I go on my weekly 20-mile drive, top down of course, I’ve been asked many a time, “What kind of a car is it?” Other times I get smiles or the “thumbs up.” It always makes me feel good. Recently I sat next to a big rig driver at a red light, and he shouted down to me, “Don’t ever sell it!” Don’t worry, I won’t.