1980 Triumph TR7 Drop Head Coupe
Those of you who follow my writing may be aware that I am an Early Reviewer with Librarything.com. What this means is that each month, the site sends out a list of books for us to peruse. We can choose any or all of the books on the list (which includes children's books, textbooks, and e-books as well as traditionally bound books), and then, whatever algorithm the site uses chooses one book from our choices to send us. We are expected to read the book and write a short review of same. In September, my choices included a book on redoing your car upholstery and a book about Triumph sports cars, among others. I just received my selection, The Illustrated History of Triumph Sports and Racing Cars. I am beyond excited. This is a beautiful book, and I highly recommend it to anyone interested in Triumphs, British sports cars in general, automotive history, or even Italian design. There is a link at the bottom of this post where you can order the book for yourself, should you so choose. Full disclosure, I get a small kickback if you order through my link.
In 1980, yes, thirty-seven years ago, I bought my first sports car, a four-year-old Triumph Spitfire in a color I called "red," but British Leyland called "pimento." I still have that car, although at this point it would require a ground up restoration to put it back on the road. In the years I have owned the Spit, I have spent three times as much in repairs and maintenance as the car cost me to buy. I can't imagine what a complete restoration would cost today, but should Kevin win the lottery, restoring the Spit is one of my goals. It was a fun car, and I've driven it quite a bit, sometimes at speeds where I wondered if the wheels would come off or the car would become airborne.
There was the time I desperately needed a vacation, so I threw my duffle bag in the trunk and hit the road for California, with the idea of spending a week with my parents in Smith River. I was so tired, and so desperate, that I didn't bother checking minor things like 1) is the tire changing kit in the trunk? or 2) is there air in the spare tire. You might note that these two questions are related. Funny thing. Driving south along the Oregon Coast, my left rear tire blew. I pulled off the road, dug in the trunk and found that the spare was flat and there were no tools to change the tire. Did I mention it was a Sunday afternoon? As I sat there, admiring the ocean but beating myself up over my own stupidity, a family stopped on their way home from church. Turns out father worked for (or maybe owned?) a tire store in the next town down the road. He had the tools to get me back on the road, at least far enough to get a new tire on the car. What's that line about "the kindness of strangers"?
The 1976 Triumph Spitfire in need of a new top (among other things)
I do not now remember why, but while at my folks' place, I rebuilt the engine in the Spit. At that time there was a BAP Auto Parts store in Crescent City, and they had everything I needed to take apart the engine and put it back together. I tell you, owning a Triumph has taught me more about auto mechanics than any classroom experience I ever had.
One other "fun" experience with the Spit. My Scottish Country Dance group was scheduled to perform at the Red Lodge Festival of Nations in Red Lodge, Montana, some 350 miles from home. It was Summer, and I thought it would be fun to hit the road with the top down. Just east of Drummond (50 miles from home), the car died. With help, I determined that the problem was the fuel filter, and I was able to procure one in Drummond and installed it in the Spit. With that solved, I was able to drive to Bozeman where I spent the night. The next day the car died in Livingston (30 miles from Bozeman), Big Timber (30 miles from Livingston), and approximately every 30 miles until we finally limped into Red Lodge just in time for me to change into my kilt and dance. Noting that I had more difficulty in the heat of the day, and almost none during cooler evening temperatures, I chose to not spend the night, but rather drive all the way back to Missoula following our performance. Need I say that the car performed flawlessly driving at night. My Missoula mechanic determined that the problem was vapor lock caused by the placement of the mechanical fuel pump. The Spit now has two fuel pumps, and a toggle switch under the dash. In hot weather, I flip the switch and an electric pump takes over, eliminating any possibility of vapor lock.
A 1979 Triumph Spitfire on display at a car show in Polson, Montana
The book I received refers to "Sports and Racing Cars," and I would be remiss if I didn't mention that once upon a time, I even raced my Spit. Back in the day, we had a British Car Club in Missoula, with a good number of Triumphs, MGs, Austin-Healeys, even a Standard 10 estate (station wagon). Some of us had the idea that it would be fun to get involved in the Auto Cross Competitions the local SCCA (Sports Car Club of America) sponsored. And yes, I drove my Spit in many of those events. I never did very well, but the Spit did. The girl friend of our club president won her class while driving my Spit. So sometimes the problem is the driver and not the car.
Driving the Spit in an SCCA Autocross, Lolo Montana
Fast forward to the early 1990s (I don't remember exactly when), and my partner and I were in Spokane, Washington. Gary was looking for a car, and when we saw something unusual parked alongside North Division, Gary asked what it was. I replied, "It's a Triumph TR7. You don't want it." Long story short, that very same TR7 is now parked in my yard. Gary loved the look, and the idea of having an unusual convertible. He drove it home from Spokane with nary a hitch, but a couple of months later, while taking a "Sunday drive" around the countryside, the car started issuing a white vapor? smoke? from under the bonnet (hood), and Gary ended up limping home. He never drove the car again. But I have. Many times on many different kinds of roads.
TR7s were the first in the TR series to come only as a hard top coupe. They shared nothing but a name in common with their predecessors, the venerable TR2s, TR3s, TR4s, TR5s (known in the U.S. as a TR250) and TR6s. Known as "the Wedge," the car's advertising stated "This is the shape of things to come." Recognizing that their largest market was the United States, British Leyland was forced to build cars that met US safety standards, and in 1975 that meant no convertibles. The convertible version, or Drop Head Coupé, didn't come out until 1979. Over the years, I have seen a great many Fixed Head Coupés, as the hardtops are called, but mine is the only convertible I've seen in real life.
My 1980 Triumph TR7 set with Montana's Cabinet Mountains as a backdrop
TR7s got a bad rap. Built at a time when British Leyland was struggling on many fronts, the cars didn't always meet quality standards. The wedge look was something that people either liked or loathed, but there is no question that it was completely different from anything that had preceded it. That doesn't mean it didn't sell. British Leyland sold more TR7s than any previous model, 112,368 in the six years they were on the market. Compare that to 94,619 TR6s sold over an eight year period. At the very end of the run, adding an 8 cylinder engine to the Wedge got you a TR8, and BL sold 2,722 of those in 1980 and 81. The car has been written up in Collectible Automobile (August 2013), Hemmings Motor News which asked the question "Was it as bad (or as good) as its press?" and other publications. What I know is this. I love driving my 38 year old maple brown wedge, and I look forward to having the top down for many a Summer to come.
A quick bit of corporate history. Triumph as a marque traces its origins to a bicycle manufacturer in 1885. In 1902, the company added a small motor to its bikes, and in 1914, the founder of Triumph became, simultaneously, the Chairman of the Standard Motor Company. The first automobile with the Triumph name came out in 1923. The company's firs sports car arrived in the early 1930s. Standard Motor Company bought Triumph in 1944, and that company was bought, in turn, by Leyland Motors Ltd in 1960. Leyland went through more mergers and became British Leyland in 1968. At this point, British Leyland was building Triumphs, MGs, Austin-Healeys and Jaguars. Quite a range of very similar sports cars. Triumph continued building both sedans and sports cars throughout the company's life and the first TR debuted in 1952. The TR2 followed in 1953, the TR3 in 1955, the TR4 in 1961, the TR5/250 in 1967 and the TR6 in 1968. The TR7/8, the last of the series, debuted in 1975 and ended in 1981. The Triumph name lived on until 1984, in the form of a rebadged Honda Civic built in England under license. No one seriously considers the Triumph Acclaim to be a Triumph.
My Maple Brown TR7 at Thompson Pass on the Montana/Idaho state line
