1980 Convertibles Comparison Test: Fiat X1/9 vs. MGB vs. Triumph Spitfire vs. Triumph TR7

From the May 1980 issue of Car and Driver.In the beginning, sports cars were simple, full-speed-ahead-and-damn-the-practicalities two-seat machines with re­tractable tops. Their mission in life was to provide uproarious automotive fun in the sun. But communing with Mother Nature from behind the wheel was only part of the story, of course. A sports car had to be, well, sporty—agile enough to carve up twisty roads with aplomb, suffi­ciently nimble to leave practical sedans heaving in its proverbial dust. While the sports car’s definition has been stretched to cover almost every­thing with a stick shift and bucket seats, there are still a handful of cars that can deliver that fun-in-the-sun message much as it was originally written. Tapping into The Tradition, howev­er, isn’t nearly as easy as it used to be. Thanks to tumultuous world economics, the sinking dollar, and the ever increas­ing cost of you-know-what, sports-car prices have been rocketing skyward with unholy speed. Reason enough for an evaluation of affordable, entry-level sports cars. (Of course, the definition of “affordable” is between you and your banker.) Whittling the number of cars to be examined down to a manageable quartet—the Fiat X1/9, the Triumph TR7, the MGB, and the Triumph Spit­fire—was actually quite easy. There are only five two-seaters on sale in America for less than five figures, and the fifth, the Fiat Spider 2000, was tested in our April 1979 sports-car extravaganza, so we passed on it this time around. All things considered, it was a match­up made in heaven. Not only would this perfect grouping of four give us a clear picture of the low-priced-sports-car market, it would also allow us one last shot at comparing the old and the new in sports-car design. The TR7 and the X1/9 are up-to-the-minute interpreta­tions of the open-air two-seater, while the MGB and the Spitfire have become classics—some would say antiques—in their own time. But their time is run­ning out: Both will be put out to pasture after nearly two decades of production sometime in the coming year, and the last copies are expected to be sold off by early 1981. Has the march of tech­nology produced any significant prog­ress in sports cars, circa 1980? Should you rush out to buy one of the old guard while they last? Or do they de­serve a Bronx cheer and a hearty “Good riddance” as they head for eternity? We couldn’t think of a better place to search for the answers than the fun-and­-sun capital itself, California. A two-day C/D safari through sports-car country nonpareil, northern California’s wine country, would be just the ticket.The nation’s premier vineyards, as well as some of its most exciting roads and most picturesque scenery, are cen­tered in Napa and Sonoma counties, an hour and a half north of San Francisco. Time and the ever present shifting of the earth’s plates have bunched the land into foothills—smooth rolling hills that rise up abruptly but generally reach no more than a thousand feet. At this time of year—the rainy season that San Fran­ciscans call winter but most Americans would happily call early spring—the hills are swathed in pool-table-green grass, punctuated by the darker green of clumps of trees. Gnarled vines stand bare in perfect rank and file, gathering themselves for the new growing season. The rolling topography has made the asphalt ribbons that thread through this part of the world a driver’s delight. The roads slither around, over, and through the sinuous green hills and cut laser­-straight across valley floors. Best of all, they’re sparsely settled, lightly traf­ficked, and hardly patrolled at all. Heav­en for heavy-footed car testers.
The plan was to spend one day thrashing around a 200-mile loop of Napa and Sonoma counties, and a sec­ond day split between touring the local wineries and serious testing at Sears Point International Raceway, which is conveniently located at the foot of the Sonoma Valley.The sun-and-fun capital was, er, spewing a steady stream of rain as we left our comfortable digs at the Napa Valley Lodge in Yountville the first morning. Caravanning north on Highway 29, we eased along the valley floor past such famous winemakers as Mon­davi, Inglenook, Beaulieu, Beringer, Christian Brothers, and Sterling. We slipped through the small town of Cali­stoga a half-hour into the trip and then began climbing steeply. The road wriggled and turned and twisted back on it­self, and we splashed along its glassy surface fast enough to keep everyone alert, but just below white-knuckle speeds. We swooped fluidly through the thickly forested pass for what must have been a half-hour before the road dropped us at Clearlake Highlands. Per­fect. More Small Sports Car Reviews From the ArchiveThe first leg set the rhythm for the whole day: half-hour bursts along ser­pentine outback two-lane followed by rustic villages and their wineries. By the time we pulled in at the Lake­port A&W drive-in for lunch, the gray skies had cleared and old Mr. Sun was smiling down on us. Not one of the cars, we’re happy to report, had leaked so much as a drop of rain. The change in the weather gave us a chance to engage in a great old sports­car ritual: the stowing of the top. This ancient rite isn’t much fun in the new cars, though. The Fiat’s targa roof was off and stored in the front luggage com­partment in mere seconds. The TR7 trailed it by a few minutes, the delay pri­marily for battening down the rather snug boot. But the Rube Goldberg de­vices on the Spitfire and MGB had your friendly staff laughing and scratching and reading the owners’ manuals. Their convoluted systems of retaining straps, snaps, clips, and clasps were right out of 1954. There may have been the bit of Velcro here, and space-age vinyl there, but mostly it was trying to get the tops and their spidery braces scrunched into their allotted places and the boots stretched to cover it all. With tops down, roads dry, and the incentive of the sun on our shoulders, we strung together a seamless, after­noon-long boogie southward through the Sonoma Valley. We completed our memorable 200-mile test loop beneath the whitewashed façade of the Sterling Vineyards just as the sun made a pic­ture-perfect exit. It was more than enough mileage to uncover the good, the bad, and the ugly in each of our top­less two-seaters. Through it all, the X1/9 shone bril­liantly. This mid-engine marvel felt for all the world like the one true descend­ant of the sports cars of yore, the car that’s carried the old ideals to their logi­cal and modern conclusions. The Fiat has a raw-boned, lean-and-hungry feel to it that starts with its efficient architecture and ends with its world-class moves. It’s agile in a way few cars are, and its responses are hair-trigger quick. Everything about it is direct; its steering is precise and its brakes are sure. The X1/9 holds on to hilly twists like a mountain goat and whooshes through high-speed sweepers and second-gear hairpins with equal confidence. Its 1.5-­liter midship-mounted four is a model of zesty willingness, buzzing its little heart out to the seven-grand redline without a whimper.
1980 Fiat X1/9
66-hp inline-4, 5-speed manual, 2180 lb
Base/as-tested price: $8190/$9209
C/D TEST RESULTS
60 mph: 12.1 sec
1/4 mile: 18.3 sec @ 72 mph
Top Speed: 98 mph
Braking, 70­-0 mph: 213 ftAaron Kiley|Car and DriverFiat X1/9But the Fiat’s most compelling attri­bute is that it does more than offer the roadgoing superiority and wind-in-the-­face encouragement that drivers have historically sought in two-seaters. The X1/9 goes one step further by marrying these virtues to a thoroughly sophisti­cated design that’s up to current stan­dards of comfort and refinement. Not only does it go around curves like a whiz, but it tracks down the highway with authority and rides quite comfort­ably as well. The X1/9’s greatest advantage, and crowning glory, is its targa top. Snapped in place, it provides coupe-like quiet. In sunshine mode it al­lowed us to tailor the interior airflow from a calm breeze to a full gale, de­pending on the position of the side win­dows. And that made the X1/9 the best top-up or top-down long-distance mount in the group by far. Add to all this its 24-mpg fuel economy, and you never have to feel guilty about all the good times the X1/9 provides. All the more reason we’ve crowned it the successor to the hell-bent-for-tickets sports cars of old.
Jaguar Rover Triumph obviously had no such intentions when it designed the TR7 convertible. As with the coupe that preceded it—and is now gone forever—­the TR7 roadster’s influences are equal parts sports car and GT. Comfort is now as important a factor as sportiness in this roadster’s driving equation. The TR7’s handsomely appointed cockpit, in contrast to the snug confines of the X1/9, is spacious enough for a pair of Steeler linemen. There is a velvetness to the ride, and a general feeling of mass and solidity heretofore missing in Brit­ish roadsters. And the TR7’s top is the closest the English have ever come to making a fully modern roadster roof; it was tight, handsome, and quiet enough so that we didn’t need a hearing aid af­ter long stints behind the wheel. Of course, the TR7 is at its good-natured best with the top stowed and the sun shining in; only the X1/9 keeps a tighter rein on cockpit gusts. And though the TR7’s reflexes aren’t lightning quick, they are still plenty sharp enough for the serious at heart. The controls are linear and reassuring—especially so the steering. The 2.0-liter, 89-hp four serves up plenty of low-end torque, and the well-spaced ratios in the slick five­-speed gearbox let one make the most of it. The TR7’s only back-road shortcom­ing is its tendency to thunk into its bump rubbers on rough roads, which sometimes causes it to bobble. But on balance, it is a driver’s car of the first rank. Moreover, it has elevated the clas­sic British roadster to current levels of comfort and drivability. The TR7 is sim­ply one of the most suave and accommodating topless two-seaters ever sent to us by our friends in Jolly Old. 1980 Triumph TR7
89-hp inline-4, 5-speed manual, 2440 lb
Base/as-tested price: $9235/$9935
C/D TEST RESULTS
60 mph: 11.8 sec
1/4 mile: 18.3 sec @ 75 mph
Top Speed: 99 mph
Braking, 70­-0 mph: 229 ft
Up-to-date is the last thing we’d call the MGB, though. This is the car that asks the question “Where were you in ’62?” The B may be old, but it sure is outdated. Nevertheless, in transcending the changing times, the B has become the new Beetle convertible, and it’s built a following that likes it fine the way it is. Aaron Kiley|Car and DriverTriumph Spitfire 1500Befitting its advanced age, the B proved to be a stately top-down tourer rather than a top-notch back-road artist. Through the snaky bits it is tippy and wobbly, and the bumps knock it around far more than they should. The relaxed response of its agricultural-sounding engine—it ambles to 60 in a leisurely 14.4 seconds—only adds to its creaky, aged feel. And its depressing, 16-mpg fuel economy makes it seem all the more like yesterday’s child. 1980 Triumph Spitfire 150
53-hp inline-4, 4-speed manual, 1885 lb
Base/as-tested price: $7365/$7944
C/D TEST RESULTS
60 mph: 15.1 sec
1/4 mile: 19.8 sec @ 67 mph
Top Speed: 87 mph
Braking, 70­-0 mph: 240 ftWhich was why we were surprised to find that, to a man, we had a soft spot for the little dear. Peeling back the top is like a shot of Geritol for the B; claustrophobia instantly disappears and the sights and sounds flooding over the gunwales make life behind the wheel a whole lot nicer—pleasant, even. In less than ten-tenths driving the B is wholly competent, riding and handling with a measure of composure, if not elan. You notice the Old World feel—the down­-in-the-bathtub seating, the low wind­shield, the jiggly ride—and therein lies the B’s charm. To folks who’ve spent their lives going from Impala to Impala, the B no doubt feels like the sports car they’ve always imagined. And the B still cuts a rakish figure when the top is stowed. All of which, we’d guess, is why this ancient mariner has remained a popular step into the world of automo­tive enthusiasm after all these years. View PhotosAaron Kiley|Car and DriverTriumph Spitfire 1500Our one-day hot lap of Napa and Sonoma brought home much the same message about the Spitfire. Though the Spitfire debuted within months of the MGB, it felt far more modern to us. Most of this is probably due to its bare­bones feel—at 1885 pounds it’s a couple hundred pounds lighter than the X1/9—and to its airier cockpit. (The Coke-bottle shape sweeps down at the doors, which keeps the bathtub feeling at bay.) All the same, its roadgoing character is about as basic as they come. Its structure jiggles more than a Jell-O mold, and its suspension broadcasts every lump and bump in the road. The Spitfire’s 1.5-liter engine is anemic, and it wheezes and thrashes. And the wind noise, even with the top up, generally drowns out the radio at speeds above 45 mph. To its credit, the Spitfire puts a pretty fair grip on the road and offers precise steering, but it also demands more respect than any of the others during hard charging: the antediluvian swing-axle rear suspension snaps sideways with sprint-car oversteer if you try to brake and turn simultaneously. Nevertheless, once the Spit’s top is wrestled down, it becomes almost as engaging as the MGB, and for all of the same great­-moments-from-yesteryear reasons. 1980 MGB
67-hp inline-4, 4-speed manual, 2340 lb
Base/as-tested price: $7950/$8829
C/D TEST RESULTS
60 mph: 14.4 sec
1/4 mile: 19.7 sec @ 69 mph
Top Speed: 94 mph
Braking, 70­-0 mph: 198 ftWith 200 miles of frenetic wine-coun­try touring under our belts, it was time for a little getting laid-back and mel­low—this was California, after all. So we devoted the better part of day two of the safari to stalking the elusive winery, and engaging in your actual wine tasting (see The Winebibbers Touring Tips below). We arranged our route to put us at Sears Point in time for some late-afternoon testing. Hot-lapping our sunshine quartet was especially appropriate. Sports cars, of course, derive at least some of their im­age and appeal from a supposedly close relationship with racing cars. This was certainly true of the cars in our test. All are currently raced under the auspices of the Sports Car Club of America—and the three British products have been SCCA national class champions many times over. Aaron Kiley|Car and DriverMGBThe biggest surprise about the track session was that there were no surpris­es. In this instance the twisty Sears Point circuit seemed only to magnify each car’s strengths and weaknesses. The Fiat again proved a delight, and the quickest of the group. It felt like an overgrown formula car, willing to try al­most anything we dared and forgiving enough to save our skin when we mis­calculated. It is in fact one of the best­-balanced and best-behaved street cars we have ever driven on a closed course.
The TR7 showed itself again to be smooth, predictable, and quick. Bumps in the middle of corners tended to ruffle it, but the accurate controls made cor­rections easy. We couldn’t get an offi­cial lap time on it, however, because it couldn’t complete a full circuit without drinking its float bowl dry. (“Yes, they do that,” the JRT man said. “No, we don’t know why.”) But when it was on song, it built speed impressively be­tween corners. The MGB, on the other hand, acted like a septuagenarian run­ning a decathlon. It hopped like a buck­board over bumps, and in corners it leaned over on its door handles while raising its inside rear tire in a fire-hy­drant salute. The Spitfire again showed more spunk than its aged stablemate. As long as we braked well before the cor­ners, it had plenty of stabilizing under­steer and good steering feel to keep us on course and out of trouble. Its distinct lack of 00mph, however, relegated it to a lap time even slower than the B’s. But even the lackluster track showing of the old guard wasn’t enough to make us change our minds about them. Cer­tainly, they’re years behind in develop­ment, sophistication, refinement, and downright driving appeal. But though they’ve become anachronisms, they’re certainly pleasant anachronisms. The Spitfire and the MGB are two veterans that can still supply all of the essential sensations that make open-air motoring such an enjoyable experience—at least when you’re not hurrying. They’re far from great automobiles, but they’re still a lot more endearing than a slew of me-­too transportation modules we could name. And because they’ll deplete the world’s supply of likable cars when they depart, we’ll miss them. But with leading-edge two-seaters like the TR7 and the X1/9 on the scene, there’s no reason to dwell on the past. The new breed has brought the fun-in­-the-sun tradition up to date by adding Eighties levels of comfort and roadwor­thiness. As a result, the TR7 and the X1/9 pack more smiles into every mile than all but a handful of today’s cars. The happy, healthy state of the af­fordable sports car shows every promise of being even better in the future. Re­ports are that a steady stream of lovable little rat-racers will come down the pipeline as the decade unfolds. General Motors is rumored to be working on a lightweight, mid-engined, X-car-based two-seat targa. Ford will probably do the same thing with a spinoff of the front-drive Pinto replacement. JRT says the MG nameplate will return, maybe as early as next year. And can it be much longer before the Japanese get into the act? By all indications, the future of sun­set-chasing in cars that flip their lids is secure.The Winebibber’s Touring TipsGood sports-car country isn’t a place so much as a feeling, a state of mind you slide into when the road, the machine, the scenery are just right. That rightness might not be there the next time, the chemical balance is so delicate. So finding an area where it happens not twice, but again and again, is a gift. That’s the Napa and Sonoma/Russian River valleys and the lacery of mountain roads connecting them. A gift for car-people. It’s all there: string-straight freeway; miles of switch­backs climbing up through pine forests on one side, down scrub-covered sand­stone mountains on the other; and a crosshatching of narrow blacktop on the valley floors that races or pokes, depend­ing on your mood, through the vineyards and past the wineries.This is California wine country. From the vines—standing almost grotesquely dark and bare amid the raucous yellow of the blooming mustard when we were there—comes the finest wine produced in North America, and at times a genuine challenge to the best of Burgundy, Bor­deaux, and the Médoc. Enjoying the world-class wines and absorbing the his­tory of the old wineries are as much a part of the sports-car-country experience as the roads. Do what we did. Divide your wine­-country visit into two parts: driving and tasting. And let the two parts expand to fill the time available. A day for each or four days for each. You’ll find enough great road and enough great wine to ac­commodate you. The wineries are open year-round. The height of activity is in the fall when the grapes are harvested and pressing begins. However, the crowds are also at their height then. Our winter visit was delightfully uncrowded. Oenophiles among you will undoubt­edly have a battle plan well in mind and will make directly for those small wineries whose reputations are in opposite pro­portion to their yearly production. (The old theory that a winery can’t be both big and good still persists, and, admittedly, with some justification.) But if you don’t know about Heitz, Caymus, Carneros Creek, Mt. Veeder, and such, and if you don’t know a fermenting tank from an oak barrel, fear not: the big wineries not only welcome visitors, they compete for them. And each offers not only the traditional tasting opportunities, but also tours of the establishment guaranteed to make you semi-knowledgeable in short order.A tour can take an hour or more with tasting, so don’t plan a tour at every win­ery stop. Tour one or two of the big oper­ations in the Napa Valley and visit the others for tasting only. Inglenook, Beringer, Robert Mondavi, and Beaulieu are big operations that offer great tours, and they’re all grouped along Highway 29 just south of St. Helena. As for tasting, you’re limited only by your capacity and the typical 5:00 p.m. closing time. The opportunities come thick and fast as you cruise north on 29. The routine is simple. Present yourself at the bar in the tasting room and taste. A winery will typically offer six wines for tasting each day—three whites and three reds—but will usually be pleased to pour something special you request. Each will be accompanied by a complete descrip­tion of vintage, character, and interesting features. The portions are generous. You will not be able to taste at every winery in the valley in an afternoon.The Sonoma Valley, which parallels the Napa Valley one ridge of the Mayacamas Mountains to the west, is really three dis­tinct areas: Valley of the Moon, Russian River Valley, and Alexander Valley. Some of those smaller, almost esoteric wineries are on the Sonoma side of the Mayaca­mas. Few of the small operations offer anything like a tour, but most welcome visitors for an informal look around and a bit of tasting if a phone call is made a little in advance. A California-wine-country tour is a sure bet. Where else in this country can you combine uniquely appealing scenery, great roads, and wonderful wine? —Mike Knepper Rich Ceppos has evaluated automobiles and automotive technology during a career that has encompassed 10 years at General Motors, two stints at Car and Driver totaling 20 years, and thousands of miles logged in racing cars. He was in music school when he realized what he really wanted to do in life and, somehow, it’s worked out. In between his two C/D postings he served as executive editor of Automobile Magazine; was an executive vice president at Campbell Marketing & Communications; worked in GM’s product-development area; and became publisher of Autoweek. He has raced continuously since college, held SCCA and IMSA pro racing licenses, and has competed in the 24 Hours of Daytona. He currently ministers to a 1999 Miata, and he appreciates that none of his younger colleagues have yet uttered “Okay, Boomer” when he tells one of his stories about the crazy old days at C/D.
Source: caranddriver.com