My 1977 Mini – Mini Fun With The Mini Family Car

 

When we moved to England in 1982, I needed a car for my wife and daughter, as I drove our Fiat to work five days a week. We expected to return to the U.S. in two or three years, so I was looking for a second car that would be fun to drive, with no expectation that we’d put a lot of miles on it.

I remember that I gave serious consideration to three cars – three very different cars. I decided not to buy a first-generation VW Scirocco when I learned how expensive it would be to insure. A Citroën 2CV looked to be an interesting alternative, and “Deux Chevaux” were still being manufactured at that time, so I could buy a fairly new one. However, I had doubts about how safe a 2CV would be for my wife and child. Therefore I went with option 3, a 1977-ish British Leyland Mini, which although small, was built like a tank compared to the 2CV.

How mini was our Mini? It was ten feet and a quarter inch long, 53 inches tall, and weighed about 1,400 pounds. The Internet tells me that our Mini was actually six inches taller than the ’84 Fiero I owned later, but it was three feet shorter in length than the 2-seater Pontiac, which is why that quarter inch matters.

A second daughter was born while we were in England, and we found we could fit both car-seats and a double stroller in the Mini if we weren’t going too far. A fold-down trunk lid gave access to a small “boot” which could hold a couple of bags of groceries when we went to the Hypermarket. That was sufficient for the fairly small refrigerator we had in the kitchen of our rented house.

Our chocolate brown Mini had a 998cc 4-cylinder engine and a 4-speed manual transmission that enabled us to make the best use of all 38HP on tap. You might think that the car’s diminutive size and 10-inch wheels made it handle like a go-kart, and you’d be correct in your assumption.

The Mini was well suited for the narrow roads around our village, and it was easy to park whenever we went into town. From time to time we took the little car on motorways, where the speed limit was 70MPH, with no complaint from the Mini. I had to observe the posted speed limits as the Mini’s center-mounted speedometer was clearly visible to all passengers. I doubt our two-year-old knew her numbers but my wife certainly did.

We didn’t travel far in our Mini once our second child arrived. We didn’t need to; there was a lot to see nearby. We liked to walk through a forest of yew trees, or watch kite-flying on the Downs, which actually are hills, or visit the harbor where King Canute argued with the incoming tide. At the end of each expedition we’d put our daughters back in their car seats, and I suspect that my wife often wondered why we didn’t have a car with four doors.

 

You may have read about the origins of the Mini, of which five million were built from 1959-2000, and it is a topic CC has paid attention to before (links below). Still, it is well known that European carmakers had to create products to a reality conditioned by limited resources, particularly after WWII.

Among those, petrol was rationed in the UK during World War II and for five years afterwards, and this rationing was imposed again during the 1956-1957 Suez Crisis. One solution to the European fuel shortages of the 1950s was the “bubble car” like those built by German manufacturers Messerschmitt and BMW, each with a hinged canopy or a front-opening door that incorporated the windshield and steering column. I remember a BMW Isetta (itself, licensed design from Italian builder Iso) which had been abandoned behind the fire station in my hometown, guarded by a wasp’s nest, so I dared not approach too closely.

 

Leonard Lord, the president of the British Motor Corporation, didn’t think much of bubble cars that had seats for one or two passengers only. He wanted BMC to build a “proper miniature car” with two doors and seating for four, and he hired Alec Issigonis to design the Mini for that purpose. Today I ask myself which car was more significant in the history of automotive design, the VW Beetle or the Mini, and which was a dead-end. I mean, how many air-cooled rear-engine cars are built today?

To return to my story… I’ll agree with Leonard Lord, and admit the Mini was a proper car. Still, we had to part with it.  Living far from home with two small children, my wife and I decided not to extend our English adventure beyond two years. In 1984, we sold both our Mini and our Fiat Strada and returned to the U.S.

Recently I saw a “classic” Mini on display in a toy store outside of Boston. I asked the saleslady if I might climb inside. “You’re welcome to try,” she said, so I did. I don’t believe I’ve grown any taller or heavier in the past four decades, but I’m considerably less flexible. After she stopped laughing at me, my wife took a photo and helped me climb out.

 

Related CC reading:

Car Show Classic: 1960 Austin Seven (Mini) – The Future Started Here, by Roger Carr

CC Capsule: 1964 Morris Mini-Minor – Passing The Sniff Test?, by T87

Curbside Classic: 1980 Austin / BL Mini 95 Van – Just More Of It To Love, by T87