Rover 620ti
Keith on his best – and worst – classic buys. This week… a Rover that never went wrong
WHY DID I WANT ONE?
I was going through my Rover phase in the mid-2000s. As one friend said to me, if it had British Racing Green paint and a wood and leather interior, I would buy it sight unseen. He probably wasn’t wrong, but there were two good reasons for that. I love an underdog, and Rover was very much the automotive scene’s biggest tragi-drama at the time. Don’t get me wrong – I love a back story, but the truth was far simpler than that. Rover put out some damn fine products in the 1990s and I was buying what felt like all of them for a song. The 620ti came via a friend who’d put right all of its foibles and then got bored of it – preferring instead a Citroën Xantia Activa – leaving me the option to buy his Nightfire Red example for the princely sum of £350. How could I refuse? With 197bhp on tap and looks that wouldn’t say boo to a goose, this was one of the finest Q-cars ever to come out of the Midlands.
WAS IT A JOY – OR A NIGHTMARE – TO LIVE WITH?
This Rover 620ti falls under the category of one of my cars that gave me no trouble, leaving me to enjoy its positive traits. And there were many of those, not least its comfort, elegant styling and – shall we say – assertive performance. It wasn’t perfect; its wonderful habit of waking up my neighbours with an alarm that went off randomly was eventually traced to a faulty bonnet switch – but only after I’d disconnected the alarm siren. Still, who reacts to these things anyway? Servicing it was a pleasure – and unlike the Honda-engined 600s, the 620ti had a British engine with decent access and a ready supply of cheap parts. The worst thing I came across was a slight oil weep near the distributor – I could have just tightened the cylinder head (not recommended) and sold it but, oh no, I fitted a new head gasket, cambelt and water pump. Then sold it. Yeah, I know…
WHAT’S YOUR ABIDING MEMORY OF IT?
Without doubt, it was its towering performance, which was capable of surprising just about everyone. It pulled strongly from low revs and didn’t really know the meaning of the phrase ‘turbo lag’ – and I’ll readily admit that the boy racer in me used to love the way that it would blow off any uppity sales rep in his German saloon. Sadly, it had all the steering response of a cruise ship, so I couldn’t really enjoy all of that grunt on anything other than straights (later models were better). I decided to make mine even more of a Q-car by de-badging it and fitting the boring-looking alloy wheels off a 623GSi. Oh, that was fun. The 620ti’s main weak link was its gearbox, which had a habit of chewing through its differential bearings, but mine was as good as gold – all that was really wrong with it was a few rust bubbles on the rear arches. Sadly, it lasted a mere three more years after I sold it (for a rare profit). I wonder what happened to it?
WHAT ARE YOUR TOP TIPS FOR BUYING ONE?
Rover 600s are rare now, and the 620ti especially so. If any of the ones that survived the modding scene of the 2000s and dodged scrappage in 2009-2010, then the likelihood is that they’ll be quite nice, and therefore worth a few quid. Standard 600s are solid and dull and suffer few issues beyond corrosion, and an unhealthy appetite for expensive Honda consumables. If you’re checking out a 620ti, check that there are no oil leaks from the top end and that the gearbox isn’t whining. Turbos have a habit of losing boost and being down on power, but these issues are usually easy to chase down. Rust spots include the sills, arches and brake lines – especially at the rear – and watch out for seized rear brake discs. Build quality is probably as good as anything that ever wore a Rover badge, but Honda electrics can fail in all manner of ways, so check everything. Finally, if the rev counter is playing up, chances are the distributor is on the way out.