The Name's Bond

So the UK showing season is well under way and we're all again embedded into the ground hog process of: polish, vacuum, pack lunch, drive to, display; polish, vacuum, pack lunch, drive to, display: ad infinitum until the either a) Autumn descends and displaying your car is no longer viable or b) you finally go mad and take up fishing as a hobby.  For me and the missus, this cycle starts in early May at the Gawsworth show in Cheshire. From then we'll decide, based on the criteria of weather, time and the pretence of having other stuff to do, the other shows we'll visit throughout the year. And that will be our Sisyphean routine until the end of the car show season. Having done this for quite some years now we've become very familiar with, not only the format, but also a lot of the cars we'll see as we go. Indeed, we can now precisely name many of the car models present and also quite a few of the owners too. Which is nice.

Conversely, it's said familiarly breeds contempt and, after quite few years of this it would be easy to become complacent as you see the same cars displayed on the perennial club stands to the point you can almost predict what vehicles are going to be in attendance even before you saunter past the club's patch. I sometimes use this to my advantage as it allows me to like to sound particularly impressive and informed, especially when I'm with an ingénue to the car scene. Imagine my self-importance as I walk along nonchalantly saying: 'MGB, MGB, Mini, Mini Cooper, MGB, Midget, MGB, ooh look a Morgan etc.'

Unfortunately, in reality, it’s all a bit of motoring misdirection on my part as mainly I'm reading the name badges as I walk a few feet I front of my awed (or bored) companion. To be fair, I'm not that bad in my knowledge but this year I had what I now call a 'Gawsworth moment' where I happened upon a car I simply couldn't even guess what it was and there was no bonnet badge to illuminate me (remember my Corvair experience?). Usually when this happens a quick wander around the back of the car to examine the boot lid solves the issue but in this case I was still clueless. I stood back and appraised it some more and shakily concluded it was perhaps an early, un-badged version of the Reliant Scimitar but as Princess Anne wasn't around to advise me I still wasn't sure. Luckily, modern technology helped me so I took a quick picture of the chromed, cursive words on the boot lid with my smart phone and resolved to reference the required information later using the awesome power of the Internet. Here's what those enigmatic words said: Equipe Overdrive 6.

Bond Equipe Overdrive 6 pictured at Gawsworth Car Show 2015

By now, having read this information, most true car experts already know I was looking at a quite rare and interesting GT car made by a company called Bond.  Originally from Preston and called Sharps Commercials Ltd this manufacturer was presciently renamed as Bond in 1963 and were known mainly for making funny little three wheelers such as the overturned bathtub called the Minicar. A decade or so later they gave their name to that wedge of super-charged Red Leicester known as the Bond Bug.

The Equipe stands out in the Bond canon as it was a proper four wheel car with a decent engine and genuinely desirable, classic looks. They were based on the Triumph Herald running gear when production started in 1963 which was later upgraded to the more powerful Vitesse engine. By 1970 - the end of their production - they had evolved into credible two litre cruisers (with optional overdrive) and were very capable 2+2 GT cars offering 100 mph + performance. Their fibreglass body had a rakish, fastback look and although some styling cues from the donor cars were always discernible, the car over its production life became increasingly sophisticated and distinctive. I'd really like to see more on the circuit so I could see the developments that resulted in the very pretty car I encountered this year.

Interestingly Bond was purchased in 1969 by Reliant their main competitor who discontinued production of the Equipe (and Bond's 875 three wheeler) almost immediately presumably in favour of their own GT car - the Scimitar - which when looked at sideways is pretty similar in a lot of respects to the Equipe. If history had lurched in a different direction maybe today we would be saying: 'Look a Bond Equipe! Princess Anne had one of those.' Which actually sounds better I think.

The final car badged as a 'Bond' was, of course, the bright orange 'Bug' the three-wheeled polyhedron based on a Reliant Regal. These distinctive cars, designed by Tom Karen, still have quite a following so, if you're the sort of person who likes to zip along at 76 mph in a 700cc fluorescent chip cone, then you'd be in good company. And, even though there's so little actual car, a good example today is worth quite a bit as so few of them were made.  Although the Bug was discontinued in 1973 the basic format was used as the basis for the maligned Robin series of three wheelers which as we all know is one of the most hilarious cars that the UK has produced so it made a contribution of sorts.

Measure the angles. Bond Bud pictured at Gawsworth Show 2015

Alas, this is yet another piece about British car makers that have long since gone. Bond and Reliant, despite their innovation and distinctive approaches, have, like so many others, been consigned to the wheelie bin of history unlikely to be heard from again. An even bigger pity is that of all the manufacturer names that have gone to the wall, the brand name Bond is arguably the coolest of them all (for reasons we probably don't need to discuss here). 

Where Are The Future Classics?

So as the 2015 showing season kicks off it seems a good time to be thinking about what we'll spend many up-and-coming weekends doing: looking at old cars. Perhaps like me you take it for granted and assume we all have a common understanding of what exactly constitutes a classic car?  But what is it that makes some cars classic and others just old and knackered? Have you ever wondered about this?  Apparently there's no firm definition of what a classic car is in the UK. According to Wikipedia at least. This august source speculates the pre-1974 cut-off date to qualify for free road tax or ‘historic’ status might be significant but then again it might not.  There’s a dust-dry HMRC tax-based definition as being older than 15 years and greater than £15k in value (if it’s used as a company car). Finally, there is the rather nebulous: is/was the car subject to popular acclaim? None of these help much in my view.  In the US it’s quite straight forward. A classic is defined as being between 30 and 49 years old; simple as that. Of course, much older cars fall into other categories such as veteran, vintage, pre-war etc. but I’ll leave them until another day. 

My interest in this piece is in wondering what should we buy today to have a genuine classic of tomorrow whatever the definition is? If age or tax free status is the only factor the simple answer is potentially anything. However, I suspect it’s more complex than that especially when looked at through the distorting lens of popular acclaim or perhaps, rarity.  On this latter point there is growing concern that a lot of mainstream eighties and nineties cars are disappearing altogether. Perhaps, as our more affluent society urged us to change cars more often, we have jettisoned our motors without thinking about posterity. This process was accelerated with the recent UK car scrappage scheme and was further aggravated with many historic car companies going bump (Rover anyone?). These issues, when coupled with an increasingly homogeneous supply, means fewer truly distinguished cars were/are being made. This could mean that the supply of even ‘everyday’ 80/90/00s classics in twenty  years may be severely limited which, despite their indifference as cars, may ultimately count in their favour value-wise.

The core problem is that most modern cars have all gone through the sausage machine of NCAP safety standards, bean-counting bureaucracy and globalised markets. Yes they may be safe, comfortable, economical, and long-lived but mainly they’re boring as heck and all look the bloody same. Can you imagine walking along a line of Kia Cee’ds or Toyotas Priuses at your local car show in 2040? I can feel my eyes glazing over even now.  There’ll be precious little chrome garnish. No interesting hood ornaments. No smell of un-burnt petrol. No interesting mechanical details to discuss as you look, bewildered, into the well stuffed engine cavity. Instead, it’ll be just line after line of dull, benign, aerodynamic mediocrity.  All airbags and plastic bumpers.

When I look at the cars of today I really can’t see what I’d want to appear on the showing circuit when I’m in my dotage. Please note, I’m not talking about Ferraris or Bugatti Veyrons here but cars that the average person might actually have on their driveway. Annoyingly I find myself gravitating towards the re-worked classics but don’t really want to.  Yes I’m talking about you BMW Mini, Fiat 500, and VW Beetle! Surely that’s cheating. Rehashing the nostalgia of past classics by putting retro bodies onto a Punto or Golf chassis. Yes they may look the part but where’s the innovation? And, whilst we're on the subject, what are they doing making big-assed Minis and huge, ugly Fiat 500s? Surely the original USPs of these small, economical cars-of-the-people has now been spectacular missed?

My only hope is that cars of the future will be so remarkable, so revolutionary, that today’s cars will look ‘classic’ in comparison. You never know, by then the internal combustion engine may be as antediluvian as steam power is today. Perhaps cars will no longer exist as we know them and we’ll all be travelling around in hovering, noiseless aer-o-cars?  More likely, as fossil fuels run out, they’ll all be horrible little eco-boxes that try to squeeze as much mileage as possible out of a litre of fuel as it’ll cost the literal arm and a leg by then.

Despite all that, I’ve racked my brains to come up with some interesting ideas of what might count as a future classic and now my head hurts.   But there are some potential contenders so I offer:  Chrysler PT Cruiser: even though they’re terrible. Fiat Multipla: unpleasant to look at for any length of time. Tata Nano: a valiant but futile attempt to make a genuine economy car for the 21^st century. The G-Wiz: awful but conceived to solve a problem. Citroen C4 Cactus: definitely an acquired taste. Range Rover Evoque: pretty four-wheeler despite the interference of a spice girl. Lotus Exige: affordable sports madness. TVR Tuscan: beautiful, fast and ultimately doomed. Skoda Yeti: competent off-roader (and crypto VW). Nissan Juke: quite possibly the most gopping car on today’s roads. VW Sirocco: with its alluring curves. Chrysler 300c: muscular if nothing else.

You might have other thoughts but I think the real solution is to keep our current true classics in good shape so they can still go to the shows of the future and, depending on what definitions are in use, your motor will may very well be reclassified as a veteran or vintage by then.