4k BUYING CHALLENGE
The NSU Ro80 is probably the best car ever made, offering a combination of performance, comfort and capability that remains unsurpassed. The Volvo 140 however, is a strong contender for the most fit for purpose car ever made. As a means of transport, it’s hard to fault. It’ll carry four grown-ups in perfect civility on a gravel track in a blizzard, at 80mph on a scorching motorway or through heavy traffic to a Sainsbury’s in Surbiton. And, with little more than basic servicing, it’ll do so indefinitely.
In the manner of many Fords of the period, the 140’s design was cleverly not clever. Technical novelty was avoided in favour of simple but well-developed engineering. The Volvo’s relatively high price-tag, however, allowed a level of over-specification that Ford’s accountants would never have sanctioned.
Every aspect of the 140 is straightforward, effective and of uncompromising quality. Its over-square five-bearing overhead-valve straight-four engine had already established itself as one of the world’s most indestructible in the ‘Amazon’ range. Its coil-spring suspension with a well-located live rear axle and double wishbones at the front was an intelligent evolution of the Amazon’s, but its state of the art (in 1966) braking system with four servo-assisted discs and cleverly-split twin circuits was all new. Its interior was glassy, spacious, hardwearing and cosy in the winter. Its reserved and wellproportioned styling proved timeless, surviving 27 years with a few facelifts.
The 140’s most appealing feature, though, is also its best-kept secret: it’s really good to drive. It’s not as heavy as people assume, the four-door weighing less than a Triumph 2000, Rover 2000TC or Cortina MKIII. It also boasts more power than any of those in twin-carburettor or fuel-injected form. The engine’s grunty and revs merrily, the gearchange is snippy and the
supple ride is perfect for gnarled British roads. A near-50/50 weight distribution contributes to pointy, predictable and assertive handling that quietly encourages you to provoke oversteer.
It’s also a joy to work on. Mechanical parts are big, accessible and understandable – and crusty bolts that would shear on a lesser vehicles have a miraculous tendency to undo submissively.
Three body-styles were available – the twodoor 142, four-door 144 and five-door 145 (the middle digit is the number of cylinders and the latter the number of doors). The handsome 145 is the most appealing to my eye, providing floorspace for a full-size mattress and scope for lugging dogs, wardrobes or – if an optional pop-up rear seat is fitted – an extra pair of passengers.
What I’ve learned…
Buy any 140 and there’s a good chance you’ll never part with it. Really good examples are getting scarce and pricey, particularly right-hand drive 142s and 145s. The solution is to buy a bad example. You’ll have to replace more parts early in your ownership, but the investment will pay off in the years that follow. Keep it wellmaintained and it’ll outlive human civilisation.