OUR CLASSICS
What’s more fun – a 1970s sports car or a third-scale Aston Martin? Jesse decided to find out
1979 MG MIDGET 1500
December was a bit of an odd one. The MG’s offside front indicator failed on the way back from the Lake District two months prior. Assuming that it was a bulb I picked up a brace of replacements and tottered off to the garage over-brimming with confidence… which turned out to be wholly misplaced. It wasn’t a dead bulb but a problem deeper within the Midget’s wiring loom. So it was out with the tester wires.
Apoke around revealed a failed bullet connector. After much fiddling dad and I had the bulb flashing brightly. I hooked the car up to the trickle charger overnight anticipating a visit Bicester the following day.
Astandard Midget 1500 isn’t a particularly adept track weapon but the chance to run it about Bicester Heritage’s small circuit with a bunch of other journos in their cars sounded like fun. With a helping hand from my tiny jump pack, the engine kicked into life and we set off onto the frosty highways, glad of the working heater. Bicester’s short track proved to be well-proportioned for the Midget’s lack of pace, the long back straight enough to get up to about 70mph in fourth before laying onto the anchors for a 90-degree right, rev-matching down the ’box to ease its pain.
It came as no surprise that the Midget wasn’t even close to a BMW M2 in a straight line but the chassis felt brilliantly responsive through the tighter sections, dancing over the frost in the shade of the trees, even if the brakes were pretty woeful. Definitely something to tackle soon.
At this point I should turn my attention to the tiny compatriots that the Midget is seen with here – three examples of what The Little Car Company can do if left with the blueprints to an iconic car and a photocopier that’s set to 33 per cent scale. These aren’t electric go-karts with an ornate plastic body; they are properly engineered and well constructed cars that just happen to be miniscule. The result is a rather eerie feel from the Bugatti of front-end tramp over the rough Tarmac that’s not dissimilar to that of to its larger progenitor.
The Aston drives with a prominent rear end bias, the front turning in and the rear slewing to follow neatly. The Ferrari offers a true 1950s sports car feel, neutral down its length and preferring to be turned in at speed followed by a tap of the brakes to unsettle it and provoke a four-wheel slide. You’d be forgive
