by Chris Adams My oldest brother was 15 years my elder and, in 1966, he purchased his first car—a low mileage 1962 MGA 1600 MkII. I was just three years old when he brought the little car home. Southern California was a great place to be a teenager with a roadster in the tumultuous ’60s….
by Mario Somoza My father, Francisco “Cuco” Somoza, was a dentist by profession and a diehard sports car enthusiast. He was a very successful rally driver in the late ’60s and ’70s, winning several of the biggest rallies on our native island of Puerto Rico and a few races across the Caribbean. Through those years,…
by David Mathias I don’t think my wife, Amber, ever rode in a British sports car before she met me, and surprisingly, twenty years later, we’re still married. We live for the months in Upper Michigan where we can drive for miles and miles on the winding roads surrounded by tall pines, lakes, rivers, and…
by Aaron Porter My family’s history with the MG T-series goes back to the mid-60s when my family lived in Singapore. My dad was a press attaché with the State Department and starting in 1960 my parents, my sister Elise, and I lived in Southeast Asia. After posts to the Philippines and Malaysia, we moved…
Stu Lasswell When asked, “What is it that you love so much about British sports cars?” I think the answer is right there in the name: SPORTS car! Sport, by definition, usually means some form of competition. For automobiles, that means racing! And when it comes to the cars we all own, know, and love,…
by David Mathias It’s mid-November and I live in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula. This morning I showed a friend a picture that was taken yesterday of me driving my 1952 MGTD down a country road in the snow. I was simply test driving it, but he asked if it was going to be my winter car….
by Nick Ginsberg Dedicated to my grandmother, Susan Babbitz (1944–2020) and my grandfather, Stephen Babbitz (1943–2024) September 14, 1976, two days after my grandma’s birthday, an ivory 1952 MGTD became part of our family. We still have the bill of sale—my grandpa paid $1,000 for it. Growing up, I’d heard stories from my mom and…
by Paul Austin I have always enjoyed the Coastal Tour, Mountain Tour, and the Vineyard Tour. What could be better than motoring along a two-lane road, top down, the sky so blue above the rolling, lush farmland, the snatches of birdsong we hear as we drive past, folks in their front yards, waving to our…
by Amanda Lundquist Despite being well-known in the classic car community, British Racing Green has a bit of an air of mystery to it. It’s immediately recognizable, and yet many colors bear its name, from the lighter GN. 25 to the deep, almost black tones seen on Jagaurs. There are often jokes on forums wishing…
by Charles Cutler I grip the large metal-spoked steering wheel of my 1975 MGB, zipping between humdrum hybrids and stale SUVs, my red British roadster releasing the smell of carbureted happiness in its wake. I’m an average 19-year-old guy, but I’ve been photographed, waved at, and propositioned—all because of this classic British car. It is…
