Add finishing touches…
It’s all about the aesthetic, says Ed, while putting his Lada back to standard
UK-market Samaras were heavily ‘improved’ to give them extra showroom appeal. Mine, a mid-spec model, was moderately afflicted by this. Beige already, it had orange and brown side stripes added with a weird kick-up effect like a sort of visual misfire. A subsequent owner had embraced this dismal palette and painted the wheels beige, too. It was too much. The importers also installed much shorter springs. Lowering the car had not improved its looks, nor its capabilities over rough roads. As a result, it had destroyed its bump stops. At the back, a well-made red, reflective numberplate surround probably looked natty in 1988, but now looked like it was trying too hard. I set to work. The stripes were the first to go. This made the body appear less long, which was a good look. Off came the numberplate surround, separating the tail lights and emphasising their strong, blocky shape. I obtained a set of Russianspec springs. The old springs didn’t even need a compressor to remove them. The new ones needed three, wound up to a terrifying tension. I reset the front wheel camber and toe-in after installation. Stripped of its misguided augmentations, the car looked simple and purposeful. The nowunadorned beige paint (complemented by the correct light grey wheels) appeared bright and fresh. It contrasted well with the black plastic bumpers and highlighted the car’s flat, solid flanks. But the most amazing transformation was that wrought by the tall springs. Instead of looking supine and defeated, the car stood tall, pert and poised for action. I cracked on and rebuilt the brakes. I had to weld two jacking points and a moth-hole by the battery tray, but apart from this the car was miraculously rust-free. I gave it a dousing with anti-rust wax to be on the safe side.
Never in doubt
The MOT was a walkover, the tester showing great forbearance as I cooed on about it being ‘A Vision of the Future’ [which, of course, it obviously is]. I set about driving it. Nothing broke this time around, so… a complete success? Well, my heart said ‘yes’ but my back said ‘no’. An unpadded metal bar nagged at the base of my spine and the seating position seemed much too low. My thighs were unsupported, leading to terrible cramp. Most egregiously of all, a lack of substance in the backrest left my muscles working constantly to support my skeleton. I had some long journeys to do, and promptly transferred my affections to the ZAZ Tavria, which is exemplary in its driver ergonomics. The Samara spent a fortnight as a static objet d’art on the driveway before I started to experiment with folded bits of cloth and towels
on the seat as extra supports. When I’d fathomed out what seemed to be needed, I dismantled the seat. Unexpectedly, the foam parts were more-or-less OK. I glued a split in a bolster with contact adhesive, but everything else was intact. The metal bar in my back was caused by the bottom of the backrest foam having popped behind it. It was supported by three serpentine springs which couldn’t hope to hold it in place. So, what was supposed to be doing that? Two cloth strips were sewn in further up the backrest fabric and were fastened round the back of said metal bar. Now, if they were fastened around the front, they’d stop the foam from slipping behind the bar, I reckoned.
A supporting role
This was correct and I augmented the support on offer by retensioning the strips, closing up the serpentine springs with pliers and adding a layer of dense 10mm felt between the cloth strips and the foam backrest moulding in the lumbar region. The seat base was too low and had gone a bit mushy towards the rear where the driver’s weight rests. I added a layer of 10mm felt under the whole cushion and a further strip just underneath this mushy patch to compensate for its lack of resilience. I refitted the covers and put the seat back in the car. It was almost perfect, but my thighs were still suspended awkwardly in mid-air when using the pedals. There was no more fabric spare in the covers to put any more felt under the foam, so what to do about it? I blocked up the front frame mountings about 10mm off the floor. The result was utter perfection and 2000 miles later, still is. Impressions? The car is now exceptionally quiet. It rides very well and handling is both impressively taut and handily predictable with minimal body roll. The steering is both light and precise and the brakes nicely weighted and progressive. Clutch and gearchange are vice-free and the capable 1300cc four-pot engine is flexible enough to put up with either thrashing or labouring without complaint. It’s fast and economical, too. But what do I like about it the best? The aesthetic. It’s sensational. practicalclassics@bauermedia.co.uk