A new slant on the term kit car

I saw this display at the Great Dorset Steam Fair yesterday. For those of you who don't already know, this is a vast gathering of Vintage things for steam punks and engine punks alike.

There was a special gathering of Morris Minor LCVs - that's Light Commercial Vehicles. Morris Minors are probably the ultimate light car - a term that was clearly understood between the wars - and the vans and pick up derivatives are probably the ultimate light commercial vehicles. As Vintage Things they're dead certs and it's only a matter of time before I feature them in more depth upon Engine Punk.

But I really like the display.

There's the sprue in the foreground and behind it is the partly built full size kit of a Morris Minor. It's just had its windscreen stuck in and this is being held in place by clothes pegs while the glue sets.

Judging from the rear doors, this one's going to be a van but I imagine the kit allows you to make either version.

There is a subtle point being made here. You can get every panel for the Morris Minor, including those for the commercials. So, there's really no need to scrap a Minor again, just sheer unenvironmental laziness. And having made loads of Airfix kits in my distant youth, I can honestly say that welding full size panels together is much like glueing the 1:32nd scale plastic parts only more satisfying.

I'd like a kit for a Moggie Thou van. This one looks like it's going to be a beauty. And so well detailed.

On what does makes a Vintage Thing

A Vintage Thing? Or not a Vintage Thing? That is the question.

The best Vintage Things are obvious. They are high performance cars and motorbikes that are either rare or look great, an engineer or designer's dream come true. It's a very simple definition but occasionally I like something just because it's odd.

And I'm often surprised by what I stumble across and get enthusiastic about. And some of the Vintage Things have been dangerously close to the kinds of vehicles I have come to despise. See what doesn't make a Vintage Thing.what doesn't make a Vintage Thing.

During my teens, I went through a passing phase of drawing multi-purpose vehicles. I drew them everywhere and got into trouble at school for doing so. I didn't break windows or smoke, I just filled my rough book with drawings.

At the time, I felt particularly inspired by buses and coach designs from the 1950s and early 60s. I was exploring a different kind of aesthetic. I don't think I really ever found it but I enjoyed chasing it around. I was also interested in ex-Army vehicles around this time and had my own 1:76 scale army of Airfix kits that consisted mostly of Jeeps and trucks and had hardly any tanks. Some of them were ham-fisted attempts to emulate the vehicles in Gerry Anderson's Super Marionation films like Thunderbirds or Captain Scarlet (but often these episodes gave vent to my destructive streak and my models ended up being set on fire). A third influence was fairground vehicles, many of which were ex-military designs artfully rebuilt by showmen for a specific purpose and brightly painted versions of the trucks in my model collection.

I wasn't alone in this obscure interest. One of my mates still likes Scammell Showtrac showman's trucks. He once hatched a plan to make a scaled down version out of an ex-GPO Morris Minor van he had, which had a separate chassis and got as far as doing some preliminary drawings. He worked out all the proportions (the doors were a bit small but this was in the name of art as well as being amotoring joke that only afew of us would get) but was stumped for headlamps until I suggested some from a Citroen 2CV. I reckon it would have looked brilliant and would have done strange things to everyone's spatial relationships if it had ever got built.

My designs were often at least of the size of a Ford Transit and frequently featured four wheel drive, which in the late 70s was still a novelty. Some were specifically camper vans or more accurately living wagons for life on the open road had a definite romance. But they were nothing like today's SUVs and MPVs.

Unfortunately, there are no surviving drawings from this youthful burst of creativity but I recently had a go at recreating them.

This one is based on a Dennis Mace bus but has four wheel drive. I remember be fascinated by all those sliding windows. Were summers really that good? Or was this little bus just very noisy? The original, although preserved, had obviously had a hard life and all the doors didn't really fit properly any more. It reminds me of a railway coach - possibly a retired "camping" coach - that's been shortened given a radiator and put on wheels.

Wilts and Dorset bus company had a highly modified ex-Army AEC Matador 4x4 that they used as a recovery vehicle and this drawing is based on the splendid coachbuilt bodywork this device featured. I had several Matadors in my fleet but never made one as spectacular as this. The more modern grille makes it look a bit like a Merryweather fire engine, another favourite if just for the name. The area where the crane would have been was replaced by a folding tailgate and retractable roof similar to that designed by Brooks Steven for the 1963 Studebaker Wagonaire station wagon. I had a Husky model of one of these. Remember them?

But they didn't all have to be four-wheel-drives. Other MPVs that I designed were low and built for speed. Another of my favourites from those far off days was an AEC Regal IV of Berry's of Taunton. This was built in 1951 and had a design of Bellhouse coachwork known as the Landmaster. This drawing sticks very closely to the original coach design and shows what possibilities were offered by the innovation of an underfloor engine. I'd love to know who the individual was behind this design. My drawing also reminds me of the buses that showmen used to operate. They were almost as glamorous as the rides they serviced and had a living area and panelled in windows with a storage area inside. Without the perpendicular lines of the window frames, and the sometimes awkward angles of the glass surfaces, they looked so much sleeker.

I was once offered an early Ford Transit minibus for next to nothing. It needed welding but had a V4 engine. I was quite tempted initially but this was tempered by the discovery that it wouldn't fit through the door to my garage. My girlfriend thought having it would be a great idea because she'd had such fun in one with a gang of friends. I understood what she meant. When I was at school we'd get travelling theatre groups visiting us in Transit vans. Creative types could never be drawn in such a way to a Nissan Prairie or a Vauxhall Zafira. Remember the Griff Rhys Jones advert for the Zafira? "We've not left any space under the bonnet becasue it's all inside where you can use it" except that the engine bays so cramped they're sods to work on.

The Transit minibus eventually went to a family owned coach company who painted it up to look like one then founder of the firm had run and I think it found a better home with them.

Basic trucks or tractors don't appeal to me so much. I can appreciate their engineering but they are more often pieces of industrial equipment, tools without any sense of specialness about them. I suppose they could be Vintage Things simply because of the loyal service they give but there needs to be something else about them -- a sense of fun or occasion, an intent for having a good time -- for them to be a "proper job" Vintage Thing. Some people can create a special out of the most unlikely material, though, and then that person's vision, when realised in metal, can make a great Vintage Thing.

At some point, I lost interest in the lifestyle four-wheel drives. The first Range Rovers certainly appeal to me but once they grew five doors instead of the original three I didn't like them so much. It's all those vertical shut lines for the doors and the smaller windows. Too many doors and vertical lines and you've got something that looks like it's standing still while doing 100mph. The first ones looked so much more sporty, much more sporty than today's Range Rover Sports look.

These just look ridiculous to me but an early Range Rover has a purity of purpose, an air of breaking new ground in many different senses and the pleasant feeling of surprise that the Not-Terribly-Good-Club-of-Great Britain actually came up with a world beater. This world beater has since been copied, made more complicated, bigger, heavier, faster but less efficient and less fun. They've been turned into put downs to less-affluent people and, to my perhaps rather jaundiced view, SUVs represent the worst sort of enthusiasm - the one that's at the expense of others. SUV drivers don't want to share anything with you.

And MPVs are too pretty inside. Stick an 8 by 4 sheet of galvanised sheet inside one and you'd ruin the interior. A Transit is versatile because it's purpose is less clearly defined. It's more of an MPV than an MPV, which is often full of seats and plastic storage "solutions" that take up the room that an 8 x 4 sheet needs. And many of them don't have that aesthetic quality that I was searching for, the "Wow!" that makes you take a second look. I am convinced that some of them have been deliberately "destyled" to make them look more "worthy" but of what I haven't a clue.

Having said that, one 4x4 MPV that does appeal to me is the Renault Scenic RX4. For many years, there was nothing like the Renault Megane Scenic in terms of a mid-sized MPV. That, in itself, does not qualify to be a Vintage Thing but what transformed this vehicle's standing in my eyes was the transformation into the RX4, a four-wheel-drive version with slightly increased ground clearance and, typically, a metallic interpretation of olive drab paint. The four-wheel-drive system meant that the spare wheel had to live outside on the back door and there were plastic wing defenders that gave it a chunkier look. The lack of a low ratio box hampered the RX4's off-road performance and the extra weight meant that it wasn't particularly fast or handled any better but for me the aesthetic changes really worked.

My mate Andrew - the one with all the tractors - summed things up pretty well for me the other day. We were driving along in his Land Rover with a tractor in tow on his trailer and the conversation turned to what sort of vehicle he might be persuaded to trade his TD5 in for. It wasn't long before it became obvious that only another Land Rover or possibly a Range Rover or Land Cruiser would fit the bill.

As we drove along the M5 and then the A30, I suggested various SUV alternatives but none of them interested old Andrew. I found his response particularly illuminating.

"None of them are no good much," was how he put it. "There's no low box."

In that short remark he summed up what I had been feeling for years. Without a low box in yer transmission you can't tow trailers effectively and yer off road performance is severely restricted.

It's not about lifestyle at all but action.

So, the nature of a Vintage Thing is just like a hot rod. There are many conventions and principles but the number one rule is that there is no rule.

It was on this trip down memory lane that I had something of a revelation. I wasn't designing MPVs at all. I was really designing race car transporters or service vehicles for motorcycle racing. I was making a statement about my own aspirations of the lifestyle I hope to lead, which is just what anyone who buys an MPV or SUV makes today, but one centred on Vintage Things.

Any vehicle is the result of its designer vision. They should all be dreams come true but sometimes they are living nightmares. The vision becomes impaired in some way.

To be a Vintage Thing, the creative dream behind it must be a good one. The designer’s intentions must have been clear, too.

It has to pass the “Wot’ll she do mister?” test. Vintage Things inspire enthusiasm and excitement among others - not envy.

And if you can see a Thunderbird puppet or Captain Scarlet driving it, then it's definitely a Vintage Thing.

Vintage Thing No.32 - Dodge T215-WC27

While on a quest for tractor parts in Hampshire last weekend, Andrew the tractor man and I came across this fine example of World War II Dodge ambulance. It belongs to motorcycle enthusiast John Sartain and dates from 1941. Its official nomenclature is a T215-WC27 and 6422 of this type of ambulance are recorded as being supplied to the US Army and the UK under Lend-Lease. T215 is the model type and WC27 denotes the ambulance body. It has a six cylinder flat head 230.2 cubic inch engine with a 3.25 inch bore and 4.625 inch stroke. This equates to 82.55mm x 117.475mm and 3772cc. This design was essentially a stroked version of the engine in the late 1930's Dodge passenger car range and produced 92 brake horsepower at 3000 rpm and 170 ft lbs at 1200 rpm.

The idea of Lend-Lease was to pull the resources of the Allied forces without a formal engagement of United States of America in the Second World War and the US made available material valued at more than $42 billion to 44 countries. The Lend-Lease arrangements came to an end in September 1945 and were followed by the Anglo American loan whereby the British government paid for these goods supplied at a very preferential interest rate. The final deferred payment was made on 29 December 2006 when Britain's Economic Secretary Sec, Ed Balls, thanked the United States for its support.

The Dodge division of the Chrysler Corporation was the major producer of half ton 4x4 trucks for the U.S. Army but, in 1942, the half ton type was superseded by the three-quarter ton 4x4 truck, which was also produced by Dodge.

I have always been impressed by the enormous number of vehicles produced by the United States and the Commonwealth countries in support of the UK during World War II. The struggle latterly seems to have been an unequal one but in the dark days of 1941, when this machine was produced, Britain's future looked decidedly uncertain. The Axis powers were effectively subdued at last by sheer force of numbers and overwhelming industrial might.

The 1941 vintage Dodge 4x4 particularly appealed to John. Both types share the same engine but the half ton truck looks just a little bit cuter, if an army truck could ever look cute. I like the sweep of its front wings, which are cut away from the civilian pattern to prevent the buildup of mud, and the no-nonsense features of the militarised front end that made repairs on the battlefield that much easier.

I can only presume that in a back-to-back test the half ton type is slightly quicker off the mark than the three-quarter variety but straight line acceleration and fuel consumption were minor considerations when it came to winning the war.

These rugged little trucks were once described to me as being so easy to work on all you need to mend them was a hammer. However, John Sartain, who has had this example for a little over a year, found that someone had tried to adjust the wheel bearings with a chisel. The front wheel tracking was also seriously out of line. This has now all been sorted out and this Dodge is back on the road.

The tire tread pattern on this Dodge immediately took me back to my Airfix modelling kit days. From an early age, I enjoyed gathering any spare pieces of pastry from my mother's kitchen, rolling it out and then driving my army vehicles over the pastry to leave satisfying tyre tracks in it. I asked John if it was difficult to obtain this pattern of tire tread these days but he said there was no difficulty at all. Tyres like these seem to be as effective and popular as ever.

John’s ambulance came with quite a lot of history. For instance, it appeared in the film Memphis Belle and to commemorate this still carries the logo of this famous bomber.

Initially, I mistook this ambulance to be a Dodge Power wagon but John explained that the Power Wagon was the civilian name for the later three-quarter ton Dodge Weapons Carrier. These were known for a short period as Jeeps. The origin of the name Jeep has been fiercely debated over the years but is generally accepted to come from a character in the Popeye cartoons, a creature who was neither fish nor fowl but could do anything and knew the answers to most everything. Subsequently the Dodge Weapons Carrier was christened the Beep, which is believed to be a contraction of beefed up Jeep.

The prototype for both the Dodge T215 and the Dodge Power Wagon was a pre-war four-wheel-drive conversion of a Ford truck by Marmon Herrington. This was subsequently hailed as the grand daddy of the Jeep and later became known as the “Darling”. Obviously that makes me think of Blackadder Goes Forth. How these brave little trucks have permeated popular culture.