Austin power
Richard makes a nostalgia-driven classic purchase
Ihave become an admirer of BMC’S extensive ADO16 range. It’s a Mini on larger scale, with a transverse power pack driving the front wheels, amazing space efficiency and the low centre-of-gravity that makes both cars a joy to scoot along in. It was experiencing my first lift-off oversteer moment in my dad’s example on a roundabout in Reading, many years ago, that is part-responsible for me acquiring this bronze yellow 1970 example. Not that I plan on oversteering much when it’s finished, although it might be amusing to see whether that roundabout is still there.
Such an expedition is some way off, however, with this GT requiring many of the little jobs that once kept a cottage industry of welders in business across Britain. Back in the Seventies, when there was a vast accumulation of ADO16S on Britain’s roads as a result of it
for almost a decade, 'under-the-arches' welders fitted sills, inner sills, floorpans and, if they were bodgers, crafty over-sills that hid the crumbling pressings within. Changing the rear subframe was another common job, though often expensive enough to condemn the car to an early crushing.
Survival of the fittest
So, the ADO16 attrition rate was high, making them quite rare today and obviously rarer still in sporty GT trim. And that wasn’t because the loud makeover turned buyers off. Plenty of Brits plumped for the vinyl roof and those ludicrous faux alloy wheel covers resembling woks. It wasn’t all show, though. The GT got the twin-carb engine also used in the MG 1300 and Riley Kestrel, this 1275cc version of the A Series featuring the Mini Cooper S’s tougher 11-stud head, and almost every other detail of the serial Monte winner’s engine.
If you can persuade its legendarily obstructive gear lever into some gears, and in the right order, it goes rather well.
That includes this particular car, which was a runner when I bought it, and a smooth and lively one, too. An ADO16 is not a car that you should buy blind, but plenty of pictures, plus the detailed description from the Republic of Ireland-based seller, persuaded me to take a risk – especially as the price was low for a GT, at £4000. The seller also recommended a suitable shipper, who brought the GT over to England on a car transporter. Which certainly made the unloading moment interesting.
Never been welded… yet
Another attraction, apart from its Sixties Carnaby Street-spec colour, was the fact that this 1300 had never needed to be welded. Although that didn’t mean that none was needed. One of the front wings featured non-standard ventilation holes, while there were small orifices in the sills and the front floorpans were the colour of desert sand beneath their peeling underseal. But it didn’t look too bad and, even better still, no bodgers had deployed any weapons.
I'm not an expert welder, nor painter, but I can dismantle, so the GT was semi-stripped when it was despatched to Adam Redding Classic Cars near Farnham Common. The firm specialises in Jaguar E-types but also welcomes the challenges of any classic, from Lancia Flaminias to Jensen 541s. It has also restored a number of 1300 GTS for a Porsche 911 specialist who’s lightly obsessed with them. So the ‘To Do’ list was familiar, and involved sills, wings, front floors and door bottoms. Adam suggested two approaches – a low-cost patch, repair and blow-in solution, or a pricier panel replacement programme with full and extensive repaint. Being a perfectionist, I went for the second option, knowing full well that it would cost more than the car was worth. That the very best 1300 GTS sell for close to £10,000 gives you an idea of the outlay I signed up for. But hey, this is a hobby after all and, unlike wine-tasting, I have something superb to show for it afterwards. Although I needed a drink when news from within the sills reached me.