An MG Midget all dressed up…
The old Monty Python quote seems appropriate here, because not only is this car British, but it is an oddball that has no good reason to exist. As readers of my COAL series have no doubt noticed, I pinball back and forth between cars as ordinary transportation, and cars as toys. This one falls squarely in the “toy” category.
This car is known as a “car conversion”, which is a British term for something built on top of something else. It is not exclusive to the British (think Meyers Manx built onto a VW Beetle pan), but the term seems to be. Amongst all of the specialty British car enthusiast magazines, back in the days before the internet, there was one called “Cars and Car Conversions”. If “Car and Driver” was the eccentric voice among mainstream American automobile magazines, then “C&CC” was the eccentric voice among oddball little British niche automobile magazines. Shut down in 2003 after over 40 years of publishing as a monthly magazine, it is still fondly remembered by the very few of us who bought it at the newsstand or subscribed to the name. Pre-internet, about the only place one would even see a mention or photo of the Lenham was in C&CC. Lenham also gets an entry in David Burgess Wise’s “The Illustrated Encyclopedia of the World’s Automobiles”, so it is a real thing.
“Cars and Car Conversions” magazine, one of the myriad of small-circulation British publications. They gave away a Lenham in 1973.
Since the advent of the internet, there is now an awareness of all sorts of what I call “internet cars”. Before the webs, the TVR, or perhaps the Elva or the Turner, were about as obscure a make as one could be aware of, and only because someone would race one in SCCA or a car magazine would do an article on one of them. Now that the internet can instantly call up anything, cars such as the Roquedale Olympic, or the Ginetta, can be called up and learned about. The Triumph Italia and the Triumph Dove are now on the map. The Lenham falls squarely into this “internet car” group, as only about sixty or so currently exist, not counting the few race cars and other odd projects.
The entire idea of “car conversions” is not a hard and fast definition. Typically, VW Beetles, the original Mini, and Sprites and Midgets were used as donor cars. Do early Porsches or Pumas count as “conversions” of a VW Beetle? Certainly the previously mentioned Meyers Manx and the Kelmark GT would qualify, as one needed a VW donor car to go with the kit. Then there were the, shall we say, cars of rather curious taste, such as the VW Beetle based “Bugatti”. The first Excalibur was built out of a Studebaker Hawk. If one is looking for automotive rabbit holes, there is an entire warren containing elements of car conversions.
For our purposes, we are going to stay with British conversions based on the Mini and the Sprite. Especially in the ‘60s and ‘70s, there was an entire cottage industry of conversions. There were many using Mini powertrains, including the Ogle, the Unipower, and the Cox GTM, to name three slightly less obscure examples. The maximummini.blogspot.com website should satiate anyone curious enough to want to learn as much as possible about Mini-based conversions.
The Unipower GT, a Mini conversion. Look at how big the driver’s hand and sleeve are. These are tiny, tiny cars.
On the Sprite/Midget side, the Sebring Sprites of recently passed John Sprinzel of Speedwell, an early ‘60s brand of Sprite racing parts, was the hub of the Sprite/Midget constellation, with connections to Graham Hill, Donald Healey, and other big names of the era. Not conversions exactly, by any rigid definition of the term, but the Sprites and Midgets saw a lot of tinkering and changing around of things as part of the constant and varied upgrading of a very crude and basic car. Today, over 40 years after the last Midget was produced, the Spridgets still race in sports car and vintage racing, and companies such as Frontline Developments continue to create newly engineered, highly modified parts and assemblies for old Sprites and Midgets. The sebringsprite.com website is your internet source for bingeing on these sorts of cars.
The Lenham differed slightly from most Spridget modification work, in that it was, at root, simply an enclosed fiberglass coupe body plonked onto a Spridget chassis. An honest-to-goodness “conversion”. Any other mechanical modifications were up to the individual owner. The original shop for Lenham’s owners, Julian Booty and David Miall-Smith, was in an old carriage house belonging to the “Dog & Bear Hotel” in Lenham. They did all sorts of custom and contract work to modify and rebuild sports cars. Buying old sports car hulks, refurbishing them, and selling them off at a modest profit, after expenses, paid the freight. In 1962, a Sprite owner brought his car to Lenham, asking for an aerodynamic enclosed body to be installed. They fabricated one out of aluminum, but when others began asking for something similar, they decided to go into production using fiberglass body moulds. The “Lenham GT Coupe” was born, fitted to the early Sprites and Midgets, the ones which had no roll-up windows. Buyers could buy the bodywork and have it shipped to them for their own installation, or the car could be delivered to Lenham for a “works” conversion.
Most of the early Lenhams were used as competition cars. The improved aerodynamics and lighter weight made the cars more competitive than the typical stock-bodied Spridget. Beyond the floor pan, only the factory windshield, metal cowling and firewall, along with the doors, were kept. The rear bodywork was cut away as part of the conversion, and, typically, clamshell front bodywork from various manufacturers, done in fiberglass, was substituted for the stock metal fenders and hood (“wings” and “bonnet”). Savings of a couple hundred pounds was substantial on those light cars, and, at speed, the improved aerodynamics also made a big difference.
At the time (the early ‘60s), British sports car racing car prep fundamentally differed from that of the U.S. While the Americans and their sports car competition rule books often allowed considerable mechanical upgrading but minimal bodywork changes on their production-based cars, the British often went in the opposite direction. The mechanical specifications would largely stay “as delivered” or upgraded slightly, but the bodywork and the ability to modify it was much more wide open than in the U.S. Perhaps the stronger history of “bespoke” custom bodywork in the UK dictated such an alternative arrangement? In any case, given that a Lenham conversion would transform the performance and was generally legal to do to your small-car class racer, the Lenhams were a bit of a “ringer” in the races. One competitor, John Britten, annihilated the racing fields for a season or so in the mid-‘60s with his primrose yellow colored Lenham, whenever and wherever he showed up.
Lenhams at Goodwood for vintage racing. The John Britten replica “GT Coupe” in yellow, the “Le Mans Coupe” in green. Rear quarter windows, or lack thereof, indicate the difference.
In 1965, Lenham produced a new variant, the “Lenham Le Mans Coupe”, based on the second generation cars with roll-up windows. They also introduced their “Superfast” nose. (Matchbox used “Superfast” as branding for their version of the little cars that had the easy-to-roll wheels, to compete with the recently introduced Hot Wheels. If the “Superfast” name is rattling around in your head for some reason, that is probably why). Prior to 1965, either stock front bodywork was kept, a fiberglass stock-appearing version was substituted, or clamshells from others were used. Lenham’s “Superfast” front clamshell was in-house, and carried what became their signature “smiling” front radiator inlet. The “Le Mans” second generation version could be distinguished by the rear quarter windows, while the first generation “GT” had no quarter windows, rear bodywork that tapered to a narrower appearance than the “Le Mans”, and a more “breadvan” look to the rear.
Just as “production” (such as it was, a few body shells per year, likely fewer than ten or so in any given year for both variants) commenced for the “Le Mans” coupe, the sports car sanctioning bodies began to tighten up on changed bodywork. The new racing rules said the bodywork had to “appear” like the factory bodywork. John Britten, like any dedicated but low-budget racer, simply removed and threw out the Lenham bodyshell, and substituted a “factory” appearing fiberglass Midget bodyshell onto the existing floor pan. So the most significant racing Lenham was lost to the ages. A primrose yellow replica vintage races in the UK today, and recently won the Weslake Cup race in the Spring 2022 Goodwood Member’s Cup outing.
The “GT Coupe”, showing the closed rear quarters and tapered, narrow rear panel. This car won the Weslake Cup at the Spring 2022 Goodwood Member’s Meeting races. Lenhams always make a good showing, when they run at Goodwood.
Lenham produced GT Coupes and Le Mans Coupes, to order, up to about 1975 or so. They also built a few sports racers and a for-real Le Mans race car, which failed to qualify. The total known number of Spridget-based Lenhams appears to run to about sixty cars, roughly evenly split between GT Coupes and Le Mans Coupes. Add in a handful of purpose-built race cars, and that’s it. Once the demand for race-car conversions slowed down, Lenham pushed the small cars as street (“road”) cars, but they weren’t particularly suitable for the purpose, as they were very cramped, noisy, and hot inside, with few creature comforts. Most Lenhams were built without any interior upgrades, other than to retain the Spridget seats and dashboard. The rest was raw or painted fiberglass. Lenham did offer a road car interior upgrade, with carpets, headliner, and interior rear quarter panels, but only three cars are known to have received the option. All of this knowledge was thanks to an Australian owner named “Shep” on-line, who built out a registry and clearing-house for Lenhams, years ago. Sadly, the website has long disappeared, though perhaps the Wayback Machine might yield some results, at LenhamSpridgetregister.com.
A Lenham sports racer, late 1960’s to early 1970’s.
The Lenham Le Mans entry. It failed to qualify. Little independent British workshops turned out some great looking work.
The Lenham “Superfast” front bodywork, with the signature Lenham “smile” radiator inlet.
My car turned up on “Bring-A-Trailer”, back in the seminal year of 2012. My racing days were over, I had an extra 12-A rotary engine sitting on the shop floor, and I was looking for a new project. Why not put the rotary into the Lenham? I went on-line to learn about the car, and found that it was actually a real thing. This was back when Bring-A-Trailer sold a car or two a week, and did not do auctions. Instead, they listed “exclusives”. The seller, through the photos and text of the listing, completely undersold the thing. It looked and sounded rather hideous. But, as I might be chopping it up anyway, I figured, “what the heck”? I was traveling for work, but figured I would contact the seller a week later when I was home, and if it was to happen, it would happen. When I called, the seller’s friend told me I was the first and only person to call. I told him I would buy it if I could fit in it. As it turns out, I did fit in it, just barely in all directions. Deal done. The business that held the car for the owner was a small, private shop that restored old British sports cars back into condition, and sold them for a bit of a profit, after expenses. Full circle for a Lenham, forty years and a hemisphere later.
The car, as advertised on “Bring A Trailer”. Not too attractive.
Through the BAT listing, I made contact with the second owner (I was the fourth), and learned a ton about the history of the car. As the pink slip was lost, he, along with the third owner, provided affidavits and signatures to get the title transferred over to me. Thanks, guys!
The car itself was complete but had been sitting for a long time. The faded paint was buffed out, and the mechanicals were gone through. These cars typically had either first-generation Cortina taillights, Fiat 850 sedan alternatives, or aftermarket “button” taillights. My car came with the Cortina lights, but I swapped them over to the Fiats. I did a bit of juggling front and rear ride heights to get a good result, and decided to keep the car “factory stock”. As it turns out, it is the only known period Lenham build with a U.S. market donor car. As the cars keep the donor car VINs, and Lenham didn’t keep any records, things are a bit nebulous. But Shep’s registry did a great job of sorting things out for me and my car.
As purchased, with first generation Cortina taillights. The rear window was sitting, uninstalled, inside the car.
Buffed out paint, Fiat 850 taillights, and a bit of work on details. Much better (IMHO). Either Cortina or Fiat taillights are “correct” for these cars.
The car, all-up but without driver, weighs in at a bit over 1450 pounds. This is with full window glass, a full interior, and with heavy insulating lining under the carpets. The rear glass is actually MGB-GT, while the rear quarter windows are custom work. The added glass is all British “Triplex” branded, and date-coded to early 1971, as it should be. I was actually fitting a quarter window into a fresh rubber frame, when it slipped out of my hands, having used a bunch of slippery dish soap on everything to get it to work its way together. I caught it just before it hit the concrete garage floor. Close one!
It still gets a bit toasty in there, but the thermal lining seems to make a big difference. It also quiets the mechanical noises down, while at speed. “Windows down” is the rule. But one can just reach over and roll down the passenger side window from the driver’s seat, no problem at all! I like taking it to local shows, and it always gets a lot of questions. Little kids like cars this size, because they feel like the cars were built for them!
Little and low, and barely room for two.
It is crude and noisy, but it is a hoot to drive. These little cars, like VW Beetles, have only two modes, full throttle, and no throttle. Not much in between. The twin SU carburetors have been an interesting experience to dive into. I have come to appreciate the design, from the very early 20th Century, as a really elegant and simple solution. Instead of trying to calibrate an engine with jets and fuel/air circuits and bleeds, one basically employs a variable venturi, of sorts, instead. Little baby Smith’s gauges on the dashboard both satisfy the desire for old, quaint British mechanicals, but the small size adds to the “toy car” vibe. I do fit in there, but with a slight lay-back to the adjustable seat back (which I prefer anyway), a bit of steering wheel right-in-your-lap, and splayed knees to make the tiny foot pedals operate.
The engine room, with the 1275 and dual SU carburetors. The engine paint, an Austin Healey color, was correct for a short period of time on the 1970 Midgets.
Not bad for short drives, but not really enough space. The non-synchro first gear and a one-to-one fourth gear that only allows about 55 to 60 mph before everything in the drive train is screaming along, makes the speed envelope rather constricted at both ends. The handling, on the skinny tires, is not much, in a softly sprung, high body-roll sort of way. I don’t want to rip out any wire wheel centers, so I behave in the thing. Smooth, gentle, and treat her like the old thing she is. As to safety, fugettaboudit. The fiberglass bodywork is like a thin eggshell. Break one end of it, and it is likely to go all to pieces, given the age and the thinness of the fiberglass. The rear wheel arches are thick and solid, but the rest of it, no.
So, of all my “toy” cars, this one has been the the most toy-like, fun but fragile. And tiny. How tiny? On the freeway, people have looked right over the top of the thing and have almost run into me, while changing lanes. At other times, people staring at it sometimes start driving towards it (it’s a thing that can happen). People on the highway shadow it and video it on their smartphones. It’s actually a very disruptive car out there, and one has to drive it extremely defensively.
Like the Mustang, the RX-3, the Jeep, and the race car, I keep it but not too much happens with it. But, like the others, it makes me smile, every time I am in its presence. I will keep it until I age out or lose the space. Of all the cars, I love the eager sound this car makes when I start it up and run it through its paces. Like the Mustang, it is now very old and mostly untouched and unaltered, giving off the “time warp” vibe. But unlike the Mustang, I have never, ever seen another one anywhere.
My understanding is that the British fondness for car conversions like this was that you could avoid some or all of the hefty purchase tax charged on a new car, since it was really a modification of an existing used vehicle. A lot of these conversions fell by the wayside when the UK switched to a VAT model in the early ’70s (1972 or thereabouts), which had the effect of removing much of the economic incentive for going that route. (The vagaries of British tax law are beyond me and I would rather be boiled in oil than delve into it, so I can’t put any numbers to this, but that was the gist.)
There was still some market for turnkey conversions, some of which were or evolved into more or less legitimate separate marques by taking advantage of British type approval exemptions for small production runs — I think until the adoption of CO2-based car taxes in the early ’00s, you could avoid a lot of the really expensive safety and emissions requirements if total production was 1,000 units or less and you were content to only sell them in the UK.
Even some big manufacturers took advantage of that, probably the most famous example being the Ford Racing Puma, a sharp-edged Tickford-bodied version of the Ka-based Puma coupe (not to be confused with the new crossover).
New cars were also exempt from purchase tax if sold as kits. The Lotus Seven/Caterham Seven comes to mind, but there were others.
Was about to mention same, would love to own a Cat but need my drivers license more. Same goes for bikes. Sadly am self restricted to driving a Volvo V60 turbo diesel ha ha. Nice comfortable seats….
Wow! I remember Lenham – they also did a big Healey conversion. Used to read CCC, too…
Wonderful little car and a great article touching on many others of these conversions. A friend had an Arkley SS, that turned a spridget into an MG TD. Another had a Rochdale (not Roquedale) Olympic, which was very aerodynamic, looking a bit like a 356 and went much better than it’s donor Riley 1.5.
There were all kinds of things based on the Herald/ Spitfire, due to their separate chassis, the best known being the Bond Equipe.
The Mini conversions were also plentiful – the Mini Marcos being immortalized by Corgi – and I covet the Deep Sanderson, Ogle Mini and particularly the Broadspeed GT.
Thanks for keeping the Lenham on the road – wishing you many more happy miles with it!
Such a cute toy you have there! I agree the Fiat lights work better visually, the Mk.1 Cortina ones, though classics in their own right, are just a bit too big.
Kit cars like that were a thing back then. Below is what I think might be a Falcon Shells Mk.II body on a trailer. This is an enlargement from the background of a slide my Dad took back in 1958 of the Robin Hood roundabout in Essex on the old A11. As well as a pub (which is still there, though more a restaurant these days) there was a garage too. Falcon were based in nearby Waltham Abbey.
Not only is the grille smiling at me, but the engine is giving me the 1000 yard stare….
Considering how the Lotus Elan was the primary inspiration for the Mazda Miata, I wonder if the Lenham’s ‘smile’ air inlet was the inspiration for Mazda’s joker grin grille that was used along all model lines until relatively recently.
Possible, though the Lenham was likely on no one’s radar screen anywhere, and the general curve of the front of the car created coincidental similarities in the shape of the radiator opening.
Does this set the record for the rarest car ever featured in a COAL story? You really stumbled on a delightful bit of arcania with this one, and the timing is fascinating (given the CC Effect) coming just a few days after running across a bugeye Sprite parked outside of a local ice cream shop. That Sprite freshened my perspective on these cars’ small size so I get what you say about this one completely.
I hope that when you decide to part with it (far off may it be!) that you will find someone as dedicated as you are to preserving this gem.
What an unexpected addition to your eclectic COALs. I’m familiar with some of the more popular conversions, but not this one.
Yes, those Cortina tail lights had to go. Way too big. Looks like the one on the magazine cover also had smaller lights.
I wouldn’t call the Porsche 356 a conversion, as it had a completely new built up body/frame, and didn’t use the VW floor pan like so many others that did. But that’s subject to debate.
The Cortina lights do give off an unintended ‘70s super fly vibe, for better or worse. Well, for worse…
Ferris De Joux produced Mini coupe bodies in NZ at one time a Mini mad house mate had one in his collection Ive no doubt there are one or two Lehmans coupes here, ok I know there is one, but I’d bet there are others lurking in sheds waiting to be found, racing here was very liberal as far as bodywork was concerned if it wasnt racing simply wouldnt have happened and gems like the Morrari (thats MM series Morris Minor bodied Ferrari) would not have been built, run what you brung racing was the best saloon car racing that became extinct in the late 60s.
Wild and so cool! And perhaps one of the few cars not to be seen in Tokyo, although SoCal is the only other place on the planet to have pretty much everything ever built popping up sooner or later…
Good call on the lights, and while obviously not original, a set of early BMW 2002 round taillights would seem to work quite well there too.
That plate (sequence) seems to be original to the sell date if I’m not mistaken too, I think my high school friend had a ’70 or ’71 Sqaureback with an L plate as well.
There is a gunmetal silver colored Lenham in Tokyo, as of about 2015. It doesn’t seem to see the light of day too much at the various car meets there.
The “L” sequence plate is 1973. The car was abandoned in 1973 and was claimed by a mechanic’s lien, retitled and given a new set of plates. The history of the car is known back almost to day one. The evidence suggests day one was an interesting scenario, but I left it out, as it is unprovable conjecture.
At their most extreme, cars fall into one of two categories: appliance or toy. The former is exemplified originally by the Model T, Beetle, sixties’ slant-six Valiant and, most recently, Toyota Corolla. Just basic point-A to point-B personal transportation, and little more.
On the other end of the spectrum are lifestyle or exotic fare, like a Jeep Wrangler or pricey, high-end stuff like Ferrari. The Lenham would fall into the latter category without the excessive cost, i.e., a rare, exotic crowd-pleaser that mere mortals could afford. For that, alone, seems like it deserves a place in the CC Hall of Fame (if one existed).
The source car, originally built as the Bugeye Sprite, was envisioned by Donald Healey as a weekend sports car for the “little guy”, who could not afford to purchase, operate, or store something larger and more expensive. The conversion takes the car to a bit of a different place, but with a similar ethos. “Little” cars are easier to make look good, but also have dimensional and proportional limitations that can dictate bad angles and shapes, especially given the “packaging” demands of space for mechanicals and occupants. I think Lenham did a great job, given the limitations inherent in the small size of the thing.
Seems like the Lenham would have found a home in the land of tiny cars – Japan.
This is the first I’ve seen or heard of a car such as this. Have two; they’re small! The Fiat taillights (make mine the amber/red rest-of-world ones, please, not the American all-reds) definitely are more suitable than the much-too-big Cortina items. Seems to me Volvo P1800 tails would also be of an appropriate scale for this car.
Another possible donor in the early years they could have used are the round combination tail lights from the Standard Vanguard phase III/Ensign. Though it went out of production around the time they were building the first Lenham they would have been available as spares. They seem a better size (similar to the later Fiat ones) but perhaps not thought of as ‘modern’ as the Cortina ones in the ’60s.
https://i0.wp.com/www.wheels-alive.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/2020/10/DSC_0390-copy-2.jpg?ssl=1
That’s a cool tiny conversion of the MG M. My only criticisms are those rediculous original Cortina rear tail lamps and the too slim B pillar. The ones without the rear side window look better but probably have very restricted visibility.
What a great little car! People must love the smiley front end. You mention the small-volume producers of England; I’ll attach a Ginetta and a Turner for posterity (I found them at the vintage races awhile back).
Here’s the Turner…
Looks like a “prehistoric” electric car.
Very interesting vehicle. I really like it. It is remarkably clean design for a low volume body on an existing chassis. I thought I had a pretty good knowledge of obscure British brands but this is new to me.
By 1990 or so Practical Classics also had a lot on conversion cars, which is where I learned about the Bond Equipe which was a fiberglass body on a Triumph Herald or Vitesse chassis and one of their first four wheel products. I also encountered a Clan Crusader in the fiberglass when we rented a narrowboat in 1987 and the yard owner had one parked next to his 70s Range Rover.
The Lenham is new to me although I have heard of the Rochdale Olympic because Practical Classics had a staff car feature restoring one in the oughts.
It’s an interesting car being both rare here and unique for it’s chassis, I think an overdrive would be help for the top speed and noise and is period correct since they were optional at the time.
I have only just come across this article, but thought you might be interested to know that I was the lucky guy who won the Lenham coupe in the CCC competition. I was a student at the time, so winning the car was a major upgrade to my car life. After 4 years of enjoyment, and hard use, I sold it to an American guy, who exported it to the US. I wonder where it is now.
There is a dark red Lenham Le Mans (Cortina rear lights) sitting beside the road in Ringwood (UK) just rotting away. Been there for years, and tin worm is taking its toll. Very sad to see it in such a shocking state, but with a lot of love, dedication, and TLC it’s probably not beyond hope. From what I’ve managed to glean on other forums, the owner doesn’t want to sell it though.