1959 Morris Minor

My Ride

Contributed by Philip Sales

Philip Sales was born in England and moved to the United States in 1978. He is a park and trail planner, and lives in Sonoma.

When I was a student in Manchester, England in the 1970s, the archetypal "student car" was the Morris Minor. A second-hand one was easy to purchase, as there were plenty of them around, but for financial reasons I was unable to buy one at that time - but I fell in love with the iconic little car.

For 30 years I repressed this unrequited love. While living in California, I would occasionally see a Minor, and in 2003 - with my children heading for college - I decided to look for a "fixer upper." However, many of the cars I looked at were past hope, and I had almost given up when my wife found a lovingly restored 1959 British Racing Green convertible for sale online.

It was love at first sight. Despite a somewhat "dodgy" second gear, the car drove beautifully. The car had resided in Texas until 1995, and because of the dry climate it did not have any of the rust issues that plague many older Minors. One of its prior owners had replaced the 948cc engine with a 1275cc engine, which gives it sufficient power to brave the freeways. The day my wife and I went to pick the car, I remember driving it back up 101 and getting lots of "thumbs-ups" from other drivers. It then dawned on me that you have a responsibility when you drive a 50-year-old car: you are not really an owner but a caretaker entrusted to pass it onto another generation.

I christened my car "Biggles" after the fictional pilot of the schoolboy novels of the 1940s and 50s. I drive Biggles almost every day when it's not raining. Even in the cold weather I bundle up with hat, gloves and muffler. One has to, because 1950s British car makers developed a unique heater that is seasonally adjusted to work only between July and October. Despite this, the car is a marvel of simple engineering and gets 34 miles per gallon. In 2007, I solved the second gear problem by installing a Datsun five-speed transmission, and the car now happily cruises at 60 on the freeways.

When I bought the car, the former owner gave me a manila folder containing the records that she had inherited from the previous owner. In 2006, when news broke that an Austin attorney named Harry Whittington had been accidentally shot by Vice President Dick Cheney in a hunting accident, I recalled seeing that name on some paperwork connected with the car. Sure enough, his signature appeared on a copy of the Texas registration. In 2009, I wrote to Mr. Whittington and sent him a photo of the car. He replied, detailing his family's happy experience with the car in 1961. He had been the second owner!

One of the benefits of owning Biggles is that I instantly became a member of the subculture of Morris Minor enthusiasts. Car meets and cruises have connected me with wonderfully helpful and knowledgeable people, and my trips back to the UK now involve a "parts safari" as I seek out replacement parts for Biggles and other friends' cars. The car also triggers warm nostalgic reactions from strangers, who come up to me in parking lots and tell me about their own experiences driving - or being driven in - Morris Minors. Almost everyone has a story to tell about the Minor's quirkiness, the notorious Lucas electrical system, or even just how "cute" the car is. It still delights me to see people smile and recall happy memories of another era.

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