From the Sublime to the Russian
A comparative review of the MGC GT and Lada Samara - by Michael Abraham.
The other day I had the rare privilege of driving a couple of friends' cars. I drove a Andrew Bolton's Lada Samara up to Gingin, and returned in Tom Edge's MGC GT. I will now attempt to compare the driving experience offered by these two vehicles.
Why does the above statement sound so ridiculous? Popular Classics once pitched a Porsche Carrera against a Skoda Rapid. I'm just doing the same ... only more so. It's not as if the two cars have nothing in common. Consider the following list for example:
4 wheels
internal combustion engine in the front
2 doors and a hatch-back
back seats
blue paint (OK, I'm pushing it)
So why the vast difference between these two? Why are their names seldom uttered in the same sentence? Well clearly they were created for very different markets and according to very different engineering philosophies. Perhaps it has something to do with where they were built.
Abingdon is a medieval abbey town in England with a proud architectural tradition. Togliatti is a central Russian industrial city named after a minor Soviet saint. Abingdon's other notable export is a rather good ale. Togliatti however, also offers mail-order brides. Guess which car was built where? If you can't figure it out yet, I guarantee you will by the end of the review.
My main difficulty here is that my instinct is to assess the Lada as practical transport, and assess the MG as an indulgence. Nevertheless, I'll try not to let my bias show. In fairness, I should add that the MGC is just run in after a complete restoration to better than new condition, mostly by trained professionals. The Samara is a rolling resto to functional standards, undertaken by the owner who is learning everything as he goes.
First Impressions
Tom's MGC is a symphony of gleaming paint and sparkling brightwork. There is not a line or curve out of place on this car, representing as it does, the best of British sports styling (with more than a hint of Italian). The GT roofline, which can give a slight top-heaviness on the MGB, is brought into prefect proportion by the larger wire wheels of the C. The myriad small details of '60s engineering make this more an objet d'art than a mere form of transport. By contrast, the Samara is a box with wheels. That being said, Andrew's unusual choice of midnight-blue-suede colour scheme brings out the best in the blocky contours. The shape has aged about as well as any '80s hatch.
Both vehicles have large, solid doors that shut with a satisfying clunk. Both are easy to get into, but the very large steering wheel on the C is slightly obtrusive. The seats in Tom's car have settled slightly since my first drive a couple of months ago, so the wheel was not actually grazing my legs. Those seats also seem to hold you in place better than their appearance suggests. By contrast, the Samara's seats offer no side location at all but the lumbar support is excellent. As for the seating position, the MGC, like its 4 cylinder sibling was built for tall people. Being only 170cm tall, the sad truth is that the Lada fits me better.
The back seats of the Lada compare favourably with its contemporaries from Nissan, Mazda et al. Likewise the luggage compartment. The MG has an understandably small boot, and a back seat that made me laugh when I saw it (sorry Tom). It would almost accommodate a pair of very small children, provided they had no legs.
When I first sat in a Samara many years ago at a motor show, my immediate impression was of a cheap, ugly instrument binnacle, and nasty, flimsy switch-gear. Well the binnacle is still ugly, but it is efficient, and the switches have survived so they can't be that bad. The openness of the dashboard compares favourably with the claustrophobic clutter found in most modern designs. By contrast, the MG dash is simply magnificent, with big, beautiful (and easy to read) Smith's gauges and a delightful array of quality '60s switches. The overdrive switch is a work of art.
Driving the Lada Samara
Our destination was the British Car Day at Gingin. From Joondanna we headed north to Mirrabooka to take the Reid Highway to the Great Northern, detouring into Midland to rendezvous with the Humber Car Club - which we missed because we were late.
The Lada started easily and settled into a muted clatter that conjured images of big red tractors ploughing the frozen, black earth on a wind-swept steppe. Actually, it sounds no worse than a Subaru Brumby. The gear-shift is reasonable - better, in fact, than some more modern machines. A bit of spring-loading on reverse wouldn't go astray, though. Andrew advised me to always select first via second to avoid accidents.
Once on the move, the Samara proved to be surprisingly sprightly considering its meagre 1300cc's. It's no speed demon but much quicker off the mark than its contemporary Mitsubishi Colt for instance, and equally as nimble as a 1500cc Pulsar in suburban driving.
Entering the Reid Highway, the car seemed to quickly run out of puff as other cars surged past us accelerating to highway speed. Andrew agreed that performance in 5th gear was pretty sedate. So just for an experiment, after the next red light, I tried winding it up a bit between shifts. The engine note leapt quickly from an amiable chatter to a crescendo of tortured machine parts. In spite of the auditory protests, it felt smooth - not at all strained - and the acceleration improved significantly. Clearly the secret to fast driving in a Lada is to ignore your ears. Remember, this vehicle was built by the kind of people who thought noise-reduction equipment in the T34 tank was a total waste of time A decent exhaust system would do wonders for this car.
Reaching Midland, I had another opportunity to assess the Samara's handiness in a suburban environment, including a car-park. In this it proved superior to every office fleet vehicle I have ever driven. Proof that power-steering and automatic transmission are overrated commodities. Then it was back onto the highway for another fast run.
So how does it handle? Well, I didn't really get to throw it around (much to Andrew's relief, no doubt), but I couldn't pick any obvious faults in normal driving. There is less body-roll than one might expect in a car with such a tall stance - which is a relief in view of the shape of the seats. The brakes need a heavy foot, but do their job competently enough, once one gets the feel of them.
The steering harks back to an era when front-wheel drive cars were designed without power-steering in mind. It's nicely balanced; light, yet with a nice amount of feel to it. Perhaps a little too light at highway speeds, but not inclined to wander, and generally unfussed by changes in road surface. That's probably not surprising considering where this car came from. There wasn't much wind about, so I couldn't assess how that slab-sided body coped with cross-winds.
Unfortunately this particular Samara had some problems with cabin ventilation, however the windows are enormous and seem to somehow suck an inordinate volume of air into the car. The result is that under these circumstances it's not much different to driving a convertible. As for other noises in the car, the various squeaks and rattles were about on par for any small hatchback of this vintage.
Out on the highway I remembered to attain cruising speed in 4th before selecting top gear. I was surprised - but probably shouldn't have been - that at 110kmph, the engine noise level is exactly the same in 5th as in 4th gear.
Overtaking is where the deficiency in engine capacity becomes obvious. Passing vintage cars on the long straights of the Great Northern and Brand Highways is no great problem, but I wouldn't want to be caught behind a cattle-truck on the Albany Highway.
The procedure for over taking goes something like this. Shift down from 5th to 4th and listen to the engine note shift from a relaxed clatter to a fast-paced clatter. Floor the throttle. Feel the speed increase at a fairly leisurely pace and decide that there's still not enough revs. Shift down to 3rd. Hear the engine note change to "Help me! I'm dying!". That should about do it. Plant your foot and waft gradually past the obstructing vehicle while keeping your attention on the road about 3km ahead. Avoid 5th gear until safely back on the correct side of the road.
We reached Gingin without incident and were directed to the non-British-car side of town.
To summarise my impressions of the Lada Samara, it seems like a very easy car to live with for town driving, provided one isn't too attached to the extremes of creature comforts that modern car manufacturers assure us we can't live without. Out on the highway, it seems capable of cruising effortlessly and economically, probably indefinitely - so long as the road is straight and flat, and there's no road-trains to pass. An extra 200cc's in the engine would transform this car.
Driving the MGC GT
Departing Gingin in the MG, Tom took the helm until it was properly warmed up. This took us all the way to the end of the Gingin bypass. The big iron-block engine takes a lot of warming up - although once there, it tends to run hot. To be honest, I didn't mind the opportunity to observe for a while. This is a very rare and valuable machine so I was more than slightly apprehensive. My first drive of this car a few months back had been limited to the back-streets of Joondanna, where I wrestled with steering which is both slow and heavy at low speeds. But today would be different. Today I would meet the Beast in its natural environment - the open road.
On the side of the Brand Highway, I settled myself behind the large steering-wheel. The pedals, as in the MGB, are a long stretch away - I doubt if I would ever be able to heel-and-toe in an MG. But then again, that is not what this car is about. This is not a sports-car as many people mistakenly believe - this is a Grand Tourer with a capital GT.
Moving off from stand-still takes more throttle than what my family-sedan instincts tell me - this is a big, thirsty beast. However, once underway, a light right foot is definitely advised - this is a very powerful beast, too. The short-throw gear-shift requires a firm but sensitive and unhurried hand. The toggle-switch for the overdrive - a finger-stretch away from the wheel on the right - couldn't be easier. Well, actually it could. Due to my long experience with a Triumph Dolomite, I'd be half inclined to shift the O/D switch to the gear-stick, just below the knob (yes I know, Tom - Sacrilege!)
Tom advised me not to exceed 3000 rpm. With such a big tachometer, it seemed a shame to use so little of it. Then again, not a lot of revs are actually needed from this engine - it pulls like locomotive. I had barely got settled into what felt like a comfortable cruising pace when Tom pointed out that I was doing 80mph. Like I said, not a lot of revs
The MGC is a remarkably smooth and effortless cruiser. It really is difficult to judge your speed without consulting the speedometer. There's nothing quite like a straight-six for smoothness (except maybe a straight-eight. I must try one some time), and this is the smoothest I've ever encountered. This effect is magnified by the stability of the machine - with a third of the big six ahead of the front axle, that's probably not surprising. Those enormous wire wheels with their high-profile tyres do an admirable job of soaking up the vibrations from the road. Even the windows, while admitting sufficient airflow into the cabin, manage to do so without excessive buffeting.
None of which translates into a floaty/sleepy experience like driving a Ford or Holden. This is an MG and that means that it's always a driver's machine. The big steering-wheel always tells you which way the car is pointed, and your bum is not far from the back axle. I've no doubt that in the hands of a skilled driver - preferably with well-developed biceps - this car could be hustled along a tightly winding road at a fairly mean pace. At least if you did come unstuck, you'd know what you were doing wrong even as the wheels left the road - unlike in say a Commodore where the first thing to pass through you mind would be a tree.
Overtaking in the MGC is rather relaxed affair. Simply depress the throttle slightly and surge past the obstruction. Or for more dramatic effect, dip the clutch and flick the overdrive switch, tickle the throttle and hurtle past at a great rate of knots. Actually, it's a little eerie to feel such serious acceleration with the engine virtually idling. On one occasion, out of habit, I dropped back to third to overtake. This was, of course, entirely unnecessary, but I got a lovely sound out of the engine
Getting back to that overdrive switch, I've heard several MG and Triumph TR drivers praising the dashboard mounted switch as the very pinnacle of convenience. And that's probably especially true of this car where the gear-stick is rarely required when passing other vehicles, but I found it a bit of a juggling act getting from O/D 4th to direct 3rd in a single action.
The straight road ended at Muchea with a long, fast curve. At this point, the great iron lump at the front of the car made itself known through the steering-wheel. Not that I had to wrestle with it or anything, but it was a gentle reminder that driving this car may be likened to guiding a harpoon in flight.
At the intersection of the Great Northern Highway, I almost stalled it starting off. Actually, I did stall it, but the moment the ignition light winked on, I jabbed the clutch and the momentum of the engine carried it round and it came back to life as if nothing had happened. Remarkable. This happened twice more on the trip, so I've obviously got some learning to do.
Moving out onto the Great Northern, I couldn't resist getting a bit heavy with the right foot. Resisting the temptation to wind up the revs, I moved quickly through the gears, adopting my usual technique of selecting overdrive ahead of 4th to get the power-on shift where it's most needed. The result was a continuing smooth surge of power, rather than the kick in the pants that I'd expected. Too many years playing traffic ballet with a Triumph Dolomite, I guess. The truth is that with bucket-loads of torque on tap, the MGC doesn't need any help.
The brakes caught me by surprise, being surprisingly light. In a car as solid and manly as this, I expected a heavy pedal like in the MGB. That's not to say that the brakes were as feather-light as your average Japanese lunchbox-on-wheels, but I'm glad I got the feel of them before they were needed for urgent use.
As we reached the Middle Swan Road, I was feeling quite at home. This really is a very comfy motor-car, but still manages to give you the feeling that you're doing something useful with your time. I now understand the big silly grin on Tom's face every time I see him these days.
The traffic was starting to build up as we passed through Middle Swan. For a short stretch, I held it in 3rd overdrive, which actually felt slightly lower than 4th direct. This added just a little more sensitivity to the throttle, but the trade-off was a noticeably higher noise level.
By the time we reached the Reid Highway proper, I was feeling a bit more confident in moving amongst traffic. And upon entering suburbia, I had acclimatised to the steering ratio and weight - which was a relief in view of my previous experience.
I arrived home with a feeling of great satisfaction. I had tamed the beast! It's a bit of a strange thought really, because the MGC is not a difficult or exhausting car to drive. Quite the contrary. But the awareness of all that horsepower under my right foot, the hefty gearshift and clutch, the great momentum of the engine, balanced by the precise, albeit slow, steering - is a sense of conquest really so irrational?
To sum up; the MGC GT is a Grand Tourer in the grandest tradition. It soothes the nerves and massages the ego. Rather than merely taking the effort out of long distance driving, it turns it into an experience to be savoured. I'd hate to use it as an everyday town-hack, though. That would probably prove very stressful for car and driver alike.
Conclusions
So which is the superior vehicle? The Lada Samara or the MGC GT? Need you ask?
The MG is the stuff of dreams. The Lada is the stuff of everyday subsistence. The MG delivers what it was designed for a little better than the Lada, though.
The Lada would probably be cheaper on a long run - so long as there was no trucks to pass - which may be a consideration up to a point. But the MG would always get you there sooner, and with a smile on your face. And much as I enjoyed the MG, living where I do I'd find it very hard to live with such a car. It takes a special kind of person to own one. Tom's shopping car is an MGB roadster, if that's any indication.
To conclude: Shopping? Lada. Cruising? MG. High speed traffic ballet? Neither. Shame on you for thinking about such a thing.