We did a homes tour Saturday in Weston, MO. One of the stops was a architectural salvage place that had added 2 rooms as a bed and breakfast. The outside was littered with basically junk. Thiaold MGB was sittion just inside covered bridge entrance.
…where very thin and on the floor of the car. Everything else was just as spartan. It could have been a race car but it made me think, inside, of a go kart. And it didn’t look like a race car. How could anyone enjoy driving that car around? I remember the
My uncle restored from ground up TA's and a 'racing' TC in his home garage. I remember him fabricating new ash frames from raw timber. Later he had a chrome bumper MGB (GT?) as a daily run around too. My other uncle had a 50's TF whilst in Paris that attr
Pre-war technology produced post-war, underpowered for today's pace and not particularly comfortable. Long journeys are a real challenge. I would go anytime for a MGA instead which turned up only a few years after: beautiful shape and you can travel anywh
There’s an MG expert in town who had some of the older ones. TA in 1936 or so. TB about when the war started 1939 but few made as production stopped TC 1945-55 “Drive Like Sterling Moss and still not get a speeding ticket" TD - this is the one I had. Noti
I know it’s not a supercar, or even a barnstorming canyon carver, but it’s the quintessential British Sports Car of the postwar period. I had one me-self and today I was faced with another being sold by my pal Steve… but I don’t think I want another. As t
. . . was ours. Pictured at the 1970 California 500, frame lifted from a video clip on YouTube. What are the odds of viewing a clip on YouTube about a race you were at and finding the car you drove there? (Note the green MG TD parked next to us.) Art
This was my car of choice in 1963 -I was in the Air Force stationed at a radio relay site about 15 kilometers from Paris. The AF really didn’t want us to have cars ( too many accidents created work for the squadron dealing with French civilians) They coul
I was in school in Virginia. And a friend proposed that we drive his MG Midget to Panama, Central America. He was 18, I was 16. Nonetheless we each bought a pistol in Alabama for the trip. It was like buying a soda pop. We got some slightly used tires for