1953 MG TD. Somewhere in Las Vegas
In a recent post Dman asked us when we thought cars became modern. The CC readership enthusiastically responded with a vibrant discussion.
I was just one of those CC’ers who offered an opinion and some commentary which both Paul Niedermeyer and Ed Stembridge thought that I should put into a standalone CC post. So the following is a slight retooling of my initial opinion and story with additional pictures.
I first responded to Dman’s modernity question by saying, ” I hate to break it to you, but welcome to the world of the old. Every generation sets its concepts of modernity based on when, as youths, it and we, as its time travelers, become aware of the current world.”
“At one time the Model T Ford was as progressively MODERN and HIP as the Apple iPhone is to us today. No crime here, welcome to old age.”
I continued, ” Dman, an additional thought about modernity contrasted with “The Fun Of the Driving Experience”. As I reflected earlier, modernity is, I believe, related to a person’s “age of awareness”, occurring when the wonder and the beauty of the world is insinuated and imprinted into a young person’s consciousness. Everything is relative to that age, the “Now Age”, everything before is typically “OLD” and everything forward is the NEW MODERN PRESENT with the enchanting allure of the future to come.”
Then there is the concept of sentimentality, the remembering and re-experiencing and reminiscing our pleasantries and pleasures from the past.
What in God’s name, does this have to do with our collective CC enthusiasm for old cars? Let me give you a few thoughts and experiences.
Recently I was visiting a friend in Las Vegas and was given a wonderful lesson in driving pleasures. My friend has a 1953 MG TD and a 1970 Porsche 914 1.7, while his wife has a modern Audi R8 V10. Experiencing these three cars gave me a great lesson in driving pleasure versus modernity.
Lets first take a drive in the 1953 MG TD, really an ancient car designed with updated 1930’s technology, really a post war II updated 1945-49 MG TC with a stouter frame and independent front suspension replacing the TC’s 1930’s front beam axle. It still had 1930’s suicide doors (wow, my first time experience of suicide doors) mounted on a ash wood framed body, with a small bore, small displacement, long stroke pushrod 1250 cc 57 bhp four cylinder engine, attached to a 1930’s era non synchromesh first gear 4 speed transmission with very slow synchro’s on the upper three forward gears.
The 0-60 time back in the day was about 18 seconds, a seeming eternity in modern traffic, but what an unexpected delight results in current traffic.
This TD was an earlier race warrior, which first raced in the 1950’s prior to the formation of the SCCA, in multiple hill climbs in Pennsylvania and Ohio, in Akron Sports Car Club race events, and raced on multiple occasions in the long ago 1950’s public road races on Lake Erie’s Middle Bass Island, in the “Put-in-Bay” races. The TD had multiple brass medallions and plaques over its dash and engine compartment, and still had body bruises from long-ago race mishaps.
1953 MG TD 1950’s Race Plaques
1953 MG TD Cockpit/Dashboard
Before we started, my friend Steve checked the gas tank level with the car’s tank dipstick, no fancy modern fuel gauge for this MG. That was something for a future MG model.
Removing the Gas Tank Dipstick. No Failure Prone Lucas Electric Petrol Gauge Here!
Gas Level Looks Good. Ready for Takeoff.
First Steve drove warming up the TD. Two old guys in a MG enjoying themselves in the Vegas sun.
When I had a chance to drive the TD in real trafic, the revelations began. First, getting in with suicide doors, swinging in my legs into the seemingly tiny seat and cockpit, then positioning my feet around the clutch, brake, and gas pedal in the limited space of the cockpit was an unexpected vintage sensation. My friend Steve and I aren’t the small slender “Brits of Yore”, being realistically generously fleshy males, even, some would say, with corpulent, “modern” (there’s that word again, DMan) bodies.
Once in, the pleasures and delights began. The TD was like an old British motorcycle. Once the engine started, the car’s whole body had gentle rhythmic vibrations beating in time with the position of the throttle. A gentle, but pleasant buzz passed through the seat into my pants. The shift lever and the foot pedals all had their own sympathetic vibrations, like Brian Wilson’s Beach Boys “Good Vibrations”.
Engaging first had a very solid mechanical feel, and despite the clutch in, I had to be gentle but deliberate in pushing into gear. Literally I could feel the teeth of the gears engaging, and it was like this with every gear selected as I drove–amazingly satisfying on so many levels for an old gear head like me. Steve smiled and laughed a deep belly laugh when I told him what I was experiencing. “Cool, get used to it, and enjoy”, came from his lips.
Downshifting due to the slow synchros required slow deliberate shifting, seemingly feeling each of the gear teeth engage and mesh with each down shift. It was faster to double clutch on each downshift, and matching engine speed to the gears selected was SO, SO SATISFYING. Not modern, but amazingly satisfying.
As we drove through his neighborhood, allowing me to become familiarized to the TD, we both talked about how amazingly skillful 1950’s drivers had to be to cane the hell out of these MG’s in actual races. Their skill levels were above Steve’s and my current pay grades, but I guess we could have learned to drive like them in 1950’s races, given enough time and practice.
After leaving the neighborhood, at our first traffic light, a young woman in a modern, curent Honda Civic sat in cold A/C comfort, oblivious to us in the next lane. Our ancient MG had no obvious interest to her–likely just a small, old, yellow car with two uninteresting, fat, old, grey haired men–old guys, if she even noted us– driving it. She likely didn’t even have any curiosity about the car brand–the car and we were seemingly invisible to her.
When the light turned green, I slid the gear lever into first–Ah, so satisfying the feeling as the gears engaged–then was on full throttle with each gear just trying to keep up with her. Here I was, driving the TD balls out, in effect racing with her Civic, and actually losing to her, on the way to the next light. She was likely unaware of my TD’s modest power, that I had to “race” with her just to keep up–but Wow, was it fun. She always won despite my efforts, but I had a huge grin on my face. She looked bored.
It was like this with every light. Steve and I just roared with laughter. Steve had let me in on the secret of the pleasure of the TD in modern traffic. Every stop light was like being on the starting grid of a modern race or being crafty Lewis Hamilton at the start of an F1 race. So satisfying on so many levels. The TD just felt alive, and made me feel alive driving it in modern traffic.
The heat of the old cast iron engine and the cast iron transmission case radiated into the cramped cabin, adding to the hot, ambient heat of air in mid-day Las Vegas, our laughter and the good time together driving this fun, ancient car insulated us from the heat.
Red Rocks, in the distance. Near Las Vegas
Steve let me drive the TD on his well loved 20-25 mile loop past Red Rocks before we turned home to switch cars.
Blue 1970 914 1.7 and the red 1973 914 2.0–cousins
We then jumped into his Targa Top 1970 Porsche 914 1.7 (with 85 bhp, a huge bump in power from the TD’s 57 bhp) next to my 1973 914 with a relatively more mighty 100 bhp. The top came off in an instant, stored in the rear trunk, for our drive.
Red Rocks, now from the 914 Cabin
The 1970 914, what a change, it was a modern car in comparison to the TD. It was still an old car, like my ’73 914 2.0, tickling every sensation in the same drive loop that we took with the TD while going past Red Rocks again.
You still had to satisfyingly drive the snot out of the “14 to keep up with modern traffic, and the ’14 was just plain fun, but different than the TD, which, truth be said, was actually a greater pleasure to drive than the modern 914.
Then after we returned again, we drove the Audi R8 V10. What a change.
The Audi was ultra modern, blindingly fast, air conditioned, supremely quiet and comfortable, and yet so unsatisfying. Within the R8 you felt so cocooned and isolated from the road and driving compared to the TD and the 914. This was a modern car, a perfect daily driver, even a car to drive to the In-and-Out Burger (which we actually did with the R8, Steve driving–(Patty, please understand Steve was driving your baby to In-and-Out)–Ah, great burgers!), but, my God, what a waste from the standpoint of pleasure. The R8 was, dare I say it, Fast & Boring, at the same time. Maybe an R8 would be exciting at speed on a race track, but as we drove it in regular traffic, it was boring.
Would I want a MG TD for a daily driver, no, absolutely not, but for the occasional drive to remind me why we learned to love driving, then it is incomparable.
So Dman, the real question in my mind is modernity vs the driving experience. If a car is a daily driver appliance, thought of like a driving refrigerator or a stove, born to be stuck in rush hour grid traffic, then a current modern car like a Honda Civic or Toyota Camry with an automatic transmission is the perfect answer.
Otherwise the experience and memories of the old appeals to the sentiments of our love of the old cars that we read about on the pages of CC. Go ahead and enjoy your memories of your 1993 Corolla. I’ll be there too with my old memories. The past is a great place to visit with our memories, and then, on occasion, to physically visit when given the opportunity to drive an ancient car like the TD, or even old 914’s.
Great write up. I absolutely love the TD – it has got to have more character per pound than almost anything else out there. Driving an old is an event in and of its self. Something modern is transportation.
Count me as another who loves that old MG. I see that the classic “Italian driving position” of arms straight out was not part of this English car’s charms. And I think I am of an age where I like steering wheels at least a little closer than most modern cars want to supply.
Thanks so much for sharing your experience!
J.P.
LOL.I may have the answer for you and your steering wheel position quandary/dilemma–get older and enjoy more meals and English ale or stout–for an expanding waistline to bring you closer to the wheel..
My belly and Steve’s belly bring the MG’s steering wheel closer than when we were in our 20’s. This is just an “age enhancement” of the driving experience, I suppose.
I believe that the famous, generously stout, 1950’s Argentine racer for Ferrari, Jose’ Frolian Gonzalez said it best, when looking at the introduction of wide racing tires in the 1960’s, he allegedly said, “In my day the drivers were fat and the tires were skinny”. Steve and I are modestly attempting to live and drive to Frolian’s ’50’s driving ideal.
“Arms out driving, who needs arms out driving, we don’t need no stinking arms out driving” for driving a TD. The mechanical leverage for turning the wheel is better just the way it is. The TD ain’t no Italian car, in this case,thankfully so, for the different experience, for the vintage John Bull experience that it gives.
Cheers
Jose’ Frolian Gonzalez quote:
A great write up, and a very interesting take on what people may consider “modern”. While I agree with your point of modernity being a function of where it lands on the time spectrum of those experiencing it, I don’t know if you are actually comparing modernity with comfort. Perhaps we judge comfort based on what we have experienced in the past, and compare it with the present.The three cars all had different levels of comfort and convenience, and the car with the most comfort and convenience was the one you found most boring.
Perhaps mechanical simplicity is being mistaken for lack of modernity? The more simplistic the car, the more it is enjoyed for the mechanical interaction required to actually use it. It seems that the interaction is what makjes the ride or drive more enjoyable to some. That makes perfect sense, and for pleasure drives, one wants to become immersed in the driving experience. That is why enthusiasts tend to love manual transmissions, and despise the nanny-state controls built into modern cars. However, for daily driving, you would quickly tire of the demands of the MG. You would long for the A/C and amenities in the R8 on your daily commute. You would be upset at having to keep right with the less than 100 horses at your command when on the freeway. You could purchase a vehicle with all of those comfort and conveniences deleted and the car would still be modern. Buy the stripped version Versa or Mirage and you would feel all the same sensations of the 914, but without any of the joys, and one would probably call it old fashioned. While modern is usually judged by current standards, comfort usually tends to be what we experience when making that judgement.
Thanks for putting this into a proper post, which it deserved.
I mentioned it in my comment then, but I find that my xB offers a nice compromise between the extremes you experienced here. It is decidedly underpowered from a contemporary perspective, with its little 1.5 L four having to work hard to push its tall, boxy body through the air. So it’s geared low, and that combined with its eager engine, I can pretend to be caning a vintage Alfa sedan every time I hit the road to run an errand. Or pass someone on a mountain road, which takes a bit more planning and judgement than the typical contemporary car.
Of course if I want to really experience the past, I can hop in my truck. Speaking of, you didn’t get to drive it when you visited! next time. it offers many of the intense mechanical sensations, if not the cut-down roadster doors. maybe I should just take them off? 🙂
My brother had an MGA as his first car, and I have very happy memories riding in it with him, watching the gap between the bottom of the door and sill get wider almost by the day, as rust at away at the sill. It was fun to watch the road go by just inches away. And of course when we were out in it, every stop light presented a similar opportunity like you two experienced.
I sneaked a drive in it once, and that was of course even more memorable. The notchy feel of the transmission, the throb of the engine, the wind in the hair, the light and direct steering, and of course the very modest actual acceleration. But who cared? It was an endorphin rush, even at 45 mph.
This is why I dig this site, using cars as jumping off point for such a wide range of topics and ideas. And a great bunch of contributors, a real community man, well done.
For me born in 1970 it’s always seemed like there was a major shift in modernity in like 78/79, right around the time I started to take a more in depth interest in cars.
That whole thing of like a ten year old car in 2018 looking a lot more contemporary than a 1968 car in 1978, I guess it is largely subjective, up to a point, cars are definitely cosmetically updated less frequently now than in the past.
Anyways thanks again man, I love your work, oh one thought the Harley Davidson and what if someone built a car using a similar concept ie an updated/modernised 1950s design, I guess the Prowler and the Viper are the best examples
Just answered my question
Thanks again
Good ‘un. Nothing to add.
Great comment / article Vic!
I had similar thoughts the time I got a ride in a Viper. The driver (who was admittedly not the owner) was tip toeing around to stay at reasonable speeds. So unsatisfying! I was thinking “If this was an MGA we could nail it up this hill and growl up at legal speed, with the Viper we’d wind up in the tops of the trees”
My VW has 40hp and uses them all. Try that in your supercar 🙂 🙂 🙂
Being a Las Vegan myself, I have tremendous respect for anyone who drives *anything* top-down this time of year. So the line of “modern” begins with anything that has cold, reliable air conditioning.
Evan,
Two years ago on one of my non A/C 914 long distance trips,after traveling south in California, I left the 101 near SLO, took Rt 58 to Bakersfield, on to Barstow, across the Mojave desert experiencing 115 Fahrenheit (46.1 Celsius) for hours, always watching my engine oil temperature gauge with worry, a seeming hellish eternity to reach I15 in order to drive to Las Vegas, where my friend Steve greeted me on arrival saying, “Welcome to cool Las Vegas, it’s only 98 here!”. . I literally drank a gallon and a half of water and Gatorade on that leg of the trip sweating so profusely that there was little urine when I stopped for gas before reaching Vegas..
So yes, I agree that now-a-days, modernity requires cold A/C.
Evan,
BTW, after that hellish, hot 2016 crossing of the Mojave desert in my then non A/C ’73 914, so after only about 37 years of ownership, I finally got religion and installed an aftermarket A/C during the winter of 2017. I guess that I’m just a really slow learner, or just plain stubborn, even cheap (as some may accuse me), but even I succumbed to the need for A/C to make my typical long distance 914 drives more enjoyable. The result: ah, A/C bliss, even 34 degree coldness blowing from the vents, making me think of myself, “Dumbass, why didn’t you do this sooner”.
After leaving Paul’s home in Eugene, crossing over the top of the Cascade Mtns from the windward cool side to the hot, leeward side into the high desert of Oregon, the outside, ambient air temperatures seemingly, instantly jumped from 45-50 F to 95F in Bend Oregon, the 914’s cabin was a very pleasant, cool place to be. A/C made all the difference in the world in driving my 914 through Oregon’s and Nevada’s empty, but hot desert-like “Great Basin” region. Porsche purists might object to the changes from stock, but it’s well worth it making the 914 a more modern (there’s that word again) and user friendly long distance warrior.
So, Evan, you are so right, A/C is a much necessary, modern convenience, needed to make an ancient car livable. And yes, I agree, driving an open top car in the Las Vegas heat is a challenge!
Cheers.
Oh and I forgot to mention the book recommendation – The Last Open Road by BS Levy, a grand tale of MG T series racing in the 1950’s!
The description above of the the MG driving experience is remarkably similar to the experience I recall while driving my ’74 Midget. If truth be told there wasn’t a whole lot of “modernization” implemented in the 20 years between the two.
When I “matured” to the point of realizing that a (then) nearly 15 year old British roadster was a highly impractical daily driver in the Winter of 1988 I moved on to a 1985 Chrysler Conquest Turbo adopted from the family motor pool. More than once when told what a nice car that Conquest was I lamented that I missed my Midget. This post very artfully explains exactly why.
Did that MG previously have a black hood?
Black hood, no, not that I’m aware. Steve’s TD was originally owned by Bill Staufer and raced by both Bill and Art Brow who eventually bought the TD from Bill years ago. Now it’s Steve’s.
Art Brow was quite the MG racer who later became a Formula V legend competed well with the Alfa’s and Porsche’s of Chuck Stoddard at the Put-in Bay Races.
The Put-in-Bay races were organized sports car races held on Lake Erie’s Middle Bass Island just to the south of Ontario’s Pelee Island from 1952-1963 which have recently been revived with parade laps of era specific sports cars in the last few years similar to the now reconstituted Mille Miglia in Italy . This is a great weekend event worth the ferry ride from Canada or Ohio’s Port Clinton, to see the sports cars streaming by, some briskly, just like the old days combined with racing/autocrosses on the nearby airfield, closed temporarily for the events.
There is a great book called “The Put-in Bay Road Races 1952-1963, author Carl Goodwin, McFarland & Company Publishers, 2014, documenting this now forgotten series of organized sports car public street races. There is a who’s who of early SCCA racers/stars who participated at Put-in-Bay.
The noises, the smells, the battle scars. The brass plaques! Love it.
I get the point about one’s view of what is modern being a matter of perspective, but cars are developing more slowly, so a 20 yr old stick shift base model Escort will feel old now, but nowhere near as old as a 20 yr old Ford in 1944 or 1954 or 1974.
I became aware of cars in the 80s, when they started to be laden with plastic, while 70s cars seemed to have more of a connection with what went before. Also, there were plenty of daily driven, 10-15 yr old Minor 1000s, Beetles, 2CVs and series Land Rovers which seemed to be from another century. OK those are sneaky examples, but compare even a ’78 Datsun 120Y with an ’88 Sentra coupe, or a ’78 Vauxhall Cavalier with an ’88.
Great write up, when I read your original well thought out comment I thought it deserved its own post.
Working here in North Wilsonville, Oregon surrounded by Hi Tech firms, you never know what you might see in the employee parking lots of companies like Mentor Graphics, Flir, Rockwell-Collins, etc. MG’s, Bug-Eyed Sprites, Volvo 1800ES etc. Two observations: The cars are only driven on the nicest of days, and tech geeks seem to prefer quirky foreign cars over American muscle
I guess I’m not alone in my mixed feelings about modern cars. I keep wondering if I would have enjoyed my hopped-up ’68 VW Fastback more or less with a/c. It would have made it slower and exacerbated the difficulty getting it to idle before it warmed up (carb conversion, and the carbs were tired). It might have led me to a more keen awareness of the car’s other shortcomings. I loved daily driving that car when it was about 20 years old. I am afraid to drive one now, for fear that it won’t live up to the memories. And I know I would not tolerate it as a daily driver without a/c in Florida, even as I dream of reliving the joys of driving it.
I like to think that my Mark VII GTI (my current daily driver) has some of the feel of that old car, even if the steering is heavily filtered and the power is applied to the wrong end of the car. Something about the driving position or ergonomics, or perhaps the feel of the minor controls. It’s more engaging than its peers, and responds happily to bring driven at 8/10 or so on occasion. That said, it is clearly a modern car with its numb steering, air bags, crush zones and heavy reliance on electronics.
I had thought to relive some of the joy of daily driving a slow car with a certain liveliness when I purchased my NB Miata. What I discovered instead is that I really don’t like to daily driver a sports car, with its confining interior, high noise levels, and the heat radiated into the small cockpit from the transmission tunnel. My first-gen Scion xB gave me more of what I was looking for in terms of driver involvement and directness of controls without the compromises demanded by a true sports car, but still lacked the VW character that I craved. It was much more reliable than any VW I’ve ever been exposed to, though, and everything on it “just worked”. Was it some sort of link between old cars and modern ones?
Back in 1975 or ‘76, within the course of a few weeks, I had the chance to drive an MGB, a Lotus Elan and a 914/4 2.0 . I far and away enjoyed the 914 the most.
Great article Vic!
I love that your friend’s MG has an MG Motor Sales, Lakewood, Ohio plate frame! They were an MG dealer all the way until the very end. At one point or another every oddball import was sold in or near Lakewood.
There is something to the adage about having more fun driving a slow car at its limits than driving a fast car slow.
My ‘96 BMW Z3 four cylinder bridges the gap between traditional sports car feel with the necessities of a modern car. The steering, clutch, gear shifting and brakes will feel very familiar to anyone who has driven a BMW from the mid 1960’s up to when electronics took over their modern day offerings.
Acd,
Bob Lossman who owned Lossman Motors (VW dealership) at approximately 17600 Detroit Ave in Lakewood, Ohio also owned MG Motors in Lakewood, on Madison slightly to the west of its intersection with Hilliard. Lossman started with a plumbing business and, as he became mightily enthused with foreign cars, quickly became the agent for several brands in his new foreign car and sports car dealerships, a total of four, Renault, VW, Sunbeam-Hillman, and MG Motors. He was quite the entrepreneur, and along with Chuck Stoddard promoted racing for the fun of it, as well as for the sales it would bring.
The VW store also sold Porsches where I saw my first 356 in the service department and was thrilled to no end. This happened when my parents were buying their first VW, a 1961 sunroof bug, and as they were signing the purchase papers, I wandered into the service department thereby discovering the white 356 being readied for a next day delivery.
MG Motors sold MG’s, Borgward, Triumph, Jaguar, and Austin Healey, and the occasional oddballs like Siata, etc. Yes, as you noted, Lossman sold virtually every foreign car, sort of like the midwest equivalent of Max Hoffman, but on a smaller scale.
There were about a dozen Lossman employees sent to the Put-in-Bay Races by Bob Lossman each June and many of the mechanics were drivers, like Art Brow, Charlie Barber, Bill Staufer, Bob Shea, Ralph Cadwallader, as well as others.
This MG TD was initially owned and raced by Bill Staufer one of Lossman’s mechanics. Art Brow usually teamed with Bill in the various events seen in the plaques. Incidentally there were many more participation plaques and medallions mounted to the car in the engine compartment. Art eventually bought this TD from Staufer who eventually sold it to my friend Steve who was a good friend of Art’s. There was a lot of Northeast Ohio racing history tied up in this car. This was a unique history likely never to be replicated.
Cheers.
“The TD was like an old British motorcycle.”
I have never had the pleasure of driving one myself, but this is exactly how I think of old roadsters from that era, essentially four wheeled motorcycles.
The TD looks like it would be THE most fun to drive, of the 3!
It was gone before I was born, but my dad had a ’51 TD. He sold (or traded it) because when he and my mom got married, he said it was too impractical.
The difference between semi modern and not so modern is quite remarkable in some respects I have a 59 and 03 cars in my fleet and enjoy driving both, the original crash on first box in my Hillman dated from the 30s but crash boxes are something I like the 2018 and 2017 trucks I drove last night are both manual NO syncro lovely to drive with or without using the clutch, it was easier to put a later model(66) syncro box in my toy than rebuild the original quieter too no more straight cut reverse idler howling, Those XPAG engines in MGs were quite good considering their capacity they were used in the Wolseley 4/44 sedan too which is a lot heavier than that roadster.
Yep,too many vehicles featured here are WAY too new for me,BUT I do check in daily.
A couple years back I got my paws on an ’86 Toyota Tercel to clean up and flip. Yes, even that era of Japanese cars has a demand here in California. Once I got it running right, and all three idle adjustments balanced just right, I was stunned at the old school driving experience. The cold starts, the difference between cold driving and hot, the feel of the engine changing when the choke opens. That visceral, manual, carbureted experience. I could feel each and every power pulse from every power stroke in it’s bullet proof little mill churning away under the hood. Tachometer? What for?!
Well said that man
Hi- I just stumbled across this article (albeit 5 years late). That’s my Dad’s old TD. It’s great to see it enjoying its retirement in Nevada.