For those of us who have read every word Peter Egan wrote in Road and Track magazine, in us lies an innate desire to own a British sports car. Yes, we are aware that they lack the reliability of almost every form of transportation that doesn’t come from Italy or what used to be Yugoslavia, and yes, we know exactly what Lucas wiring smoke is. Still, there is a certain attraction to the idea of picking up a British car and heading across the continent that lies in all of us who that dastardly Peter Egan brainwashed. This 1972 MG MGB for sale on Craigslist in Ardmore, Washington looks to be a suitable candidate for such a road trip. Conveniently sitting on the western end of these great United States, this driver-quality MGB may be in good enough condition to drive home. Advertised as a car that is a strong runner and, conversely, as a car that needs some work to be a daily driver, is the $7,500 asking price reasonable for such a vehicle? Thanks to Matt H. for this neat little MGB find!
Like many of our readers, I too am a fan of the writings of Peter Egan. For those not in the know, Egan wrote for both Road and Track and Cycle World magazines starting in the early eighties. While he calls himself officially retired, an occasional story or article still emerges from time to time. Perhaps the type of writing he is most famous for is his road trips with interesting vehicles. Ranging from a BMW Isetta to an Acura NSX, these trips across the USA were filled with breakdowns, meeting locals along the way, and what could best be described as an assessment of the car’s soul. He never said that outright, but Egan had a way of conveying just what the car was like using the art of personification and a knack for detail. Egan eloquently put to word the unusual experience of driving a Ferrari Dino through a snowstorm and could make a reader feel the subtle allure of an MG TC clothed in paint described as black with a touch of British Racing Green.
While I loved all of the stories, the one that appealed most to me was titled “B-ing There.” To cap off a long and expensive restoration of a 1973 MGB, Peter Egan and his longtime pal Chris Beebe drove the car to the SCCA Runoffs when they were held at Road Atlanta. Unlike nearly all of his previous trips, this one was uneventful from a mechanical standpoint. The car ran perfectly, so those breakdowns that are crucial for a Peter Egan story to shine just weren’t there. That lack of drama didn’t bother me. To me, the story cemented the idea that an MGB, properly rebuilt and maintained, is the perfect British car. They look good and can be made into a reliable vehicle with the frequent and excessive application of credit card debt. Or at least that is what I have been telling myself for decades thanks to Egan. I have struggled with the overwhelming desire to drive an MGB with the top down through the Chattahoochee National Forest in North Georgia at the peak of fall ever since my eyes left the last word of that story.
So, with that bit of background, you can see why a car like this 1972 MGB appeals to me. First off, the Teal Blue color of this car is very complimentary to the MGB’s lines and is one of my favorites if the car isn’t going to be clothed in British Racing Green. Second, the Rostyle wheels are a less beautiful but far more practical choice than the wire wheels that many MGBs left the factory with. The third reason is one of the most important: it is a chrome bumper car. In late 1974, MG was forced to alter the car to meet US safety regulations. This meant that modern rubber bumpers were fitted front and rear along with an undignified raising of the height of the car. While this is something we don’t worry as much about now, to many it was like drawing a mustache on the Mona Lisa with a Sharpie.
The car you see in the pictures above has all the appearance of a solid MGB. Despite various dings and dents, this 89,000-mile convertible is very presentable as it sits. The seller calls it a “great 20-footer.” There is nothing wrong with owning such a car if you want to drive it without worry as you would a normal car. What is noteworthy is that the pictures show no sign of rust in the car. Many an MGB has crossed over to the other side of the junkyard gate because rust in an MGB soon leads to real structural problems. Any serious buyer should insist on getting any prospective MGB purchase on a lift to inspect carefully. Having a magnet to run over the sills in search of Bondo is also a non-negotiable requirement.
Once you get past the thorough inspection for corrosion, the rest of an MGB is fairly simple to work on and find parts for. This one comes with extra parts to sweeten the deal. We can also see in the picture of the gauges above that the car has more than adequate oil pressure at idle. It is a shame that the seller did not include any pictures of the engine, undercarriage, or even a concise picture of the interior. The insufficient glimpse we see of the interior in one of the pictures above does suggest that the vinyl upholstery is in very good shape. The other big question here is if the car is equipped with overdrive. For many MGB buyers, being able to reduce the number of RPMs at highway speed is a must.
In all, this is a very good-looking car if you go by the pictures alone. There is also cautious optimism that it is solid mechanically and relatively free of rust. Would I consider purchasing it and heading back to the East Coast? Sure, after the car spent a few days at the shop of a British car specialist, and I definitely would sign up for AAA roadside assistance. It would be the trip of a lifetime to pilot this blue MGB across the country. While that is not in the cards for me this year, I do hope that one of our readers picks up this car and heads east in pure Peter Egan fashion. Sometimes the best adventures are the ones we make for ourselves.
Do you have a favorite Peter Egan story? Did his writings inspire you to purchase a particular vehicle or set off on a road trip? Please share your thoughts and experiences in the comments.
Nice homage to Pete there Jeff, a terrific writer indeed.
And he’s right about the B’s in my humble opinion. Two of my besties way back then had this vintage, one in BRG and the other in this hue, which is my favorite. I was lucky in that my pals were very generous with allowing me time behind the wheel of those little jewels. MGB’s had (have) an allure, they feel solid in build and nimble in motion, with a wonderful subdued growl emitted from under the bonnet.
There I was, wearing a younger man’s clothes, heading out under the blue sky with the top tucked away, the left forearm hooked over the door connected to a couple fingers on the wheel, and some Doobs rockin on the stereo…I just couldn’t keep that grin off my face.
Oh yeah, and I never did sign on to the bumper-car bumper conversion along with the height thing. Yeah sure, they can be lowered and you can paint the bumpers, they look really good…until you park next to an “original.”
(saying this with a smile, it’s just my opinion)
I loved my orange “licorice-lipped” ’76 B, purchased for just $2200 about 10 years ago. I even towed it down to Florida back in 2015 when we moved here, and drove it all over the place.
But alas, the call of big wide Detroit iron was beckoning me, so I sold the B here in Tampa to a British guy named….Steve Leyland…and I bought the ’63 Riviera. No regrets and only good memories.
Dang, this one hurts. It’s a sharpie, and I stared at those gauges for many a mile, 1/4 mil, to be somewhat exact. Mine was a ’71, not sure of many differences except I never cared for plastic dash and vents. Dash vents on a roadster? Preposterous, and again, no mention of O/D, and judging by the ad, the seller may not even know what that is.
Another crossroads possibly coming up, I had thought of a roadster, but where I’m going, I better keep the Jeep!
My MGB acquisition came after four years of avoiding the draft and prior to entry into the real world. It was a 1967 colored BRG mostly, except for the rust, and had belonged to a friend of my older sister’s. I knew it was the way to go since my sister’s ’64 Midget had a tendency to burn valves. In my youthful naïveté I saw it for what it could be and not what it was.
What it was was a pile of rust, corrosion, and that wonderfully pungent rot that grew from a leaky top into a sisal-backed interior. It came complete with real Michelin X tyres, knock-offs, and 5 wire wheels. Unfortunately, it did not come with floors.
Now at this time my sister lived on a farm and lying behind the barn was a derelict galvanized steel water trough. Armed with a saber saw and a hacksaw blade I cut out two new floor pans, bolted them into what remained of the undercarriage, and topped them with a layer of 3/8” exterior plywood. Worked like a charm and the seats finally stayed in one place.
To say the car was clapped out would have been generous. The previous owner had relocated the battery to the trunk. He also included a handmade cardboard sign that read, “A JUMP?”. As time wore on it became apparent that the clutch was shot. Remember that youthful naïveté? It kicked in again as I went to the parts store and bought a throwout bearing, friction disk, and pressure plate. The parts guys took pity on me and loaned me a busted pilot shaft to line it all up.
Back at the farm the winds of November turned gloomy. I donned every piece of winter clothing I could find and headed to the barn. In the center of the barn was the access to the hayloft over which several logs were laid. I chained a borrowed comealong to one, removed the bonnet, and set to unplugging everything and unbolting the motor.
Bear in mind that this was November in Michigan. That youthful naïveté morphed right into something closer to youthful stupidity. I read somewhere that if you really wanted to work on your own car you should take the heaviest rasp from your toolbox, drag it across your knuckles on both hands, and then stick them in a bucket of dirty motor oil, because that’s what your hands were going to look like. This is true.
But I persevered through the cold and my ignorance and trying to translate my shop manual from British into English. I can’t remember too clearly but I think it only took me two tries to get the engine/transmission assembly back into the car. Once all the fluids were topped off a miracle occurred and everything worked. Those who do not believe in a Higher Power should take note.
The ’67 roadster was my first real sports car. Fairly soon my attempts at life-support failed and I moved on to a ’69 in only slightly better condition. The thrill of sitting behind that banjo steering wheel, gazing at those beautiful Smiths gauges set in the crackle finish dashboard, and snicking through the gears set the standard for the next 40 years.
Every car I’ve ever driven since then has been measured against those two B’s. I came close with a 1st gen Rx7, the Mustang convertible got the wind in my hair once again, and I love my Corvette. But no other car has felt the same, shifted the same, or connected me to the driving experience in quite the same way. Like searching for a long-lost love I continue to peruse the internet listings, looking for some trace of what I once had. Someday maybe I’ll find another and strike up a relationship.
You’ve a way with words, ccrvtt, making your mechanical trials and tribulations into relatable experiences! And your description of mechanical undertaking using the rasp/motor oil is hysterically accurate-I’d like to borrow that if you don’t mind..
Insofar as good stories by the master of fantastic mechanical writings (often combined with side-splitting, eye-watering humor) Peter Egan, his story that launched his career in Cycle World ranks in my top ten of his-especially when he much later revealed the Norton in question was NOT an old one!
With that, having had the incredibly good fortune to meet, sit and talk with Chris Beebe for a time one day (in a little out of the way diner in the Midwest) it’s apparent that the partnership of he and Mr. Egan was a master stroke of providence. His incredible mechanical comprehension and accomplishments is utterly amazing, as is his patience. That Peter Egan gleaned that and combined his old school excellence in journalism, using humor to make it all the more personal was a gift anyone that has read ANYTHING he’s done appreciate that partnership.
Jeff, you too are a fantastic wordsmith and it’s articles like this one that we gearheads always appreciate-thank you.
CCRVTT, great tale. I do hope you can find another chrome bumper model. Loved the ‘A Jump’ sign in the trunk. Using the galvanized water tank was a better choice than old license plates for sure. Michigan winters are not kind to cars, nor from what I gather to humans either.
In the early 80s I was working for a short time in a garage that handled mostly foreign cars. The owner had a chrome bumper MGB roadster and had done a lot of work on it. He had the engine balanced and blueprinted. I’ve driven a lot of English sports cars from that period. I can’t recall an engine that jumped up to 6000rpm as quickly and easily as that one. I would have been scared to try it in any other but this one almost did it on its own. They’re great sporty cars, but not the most comfortable to drive over distance, and heaven forbid you should run into a strong rain.
The newest MGB is 44 years old.
I have a 49 year old Midget.
If you check things every Sunday and fix what needs fixing when it needs fixed these are reliable cars. Just remember the underpinnings have their origins from the 1950’s as they were kind of a parts bin car with a new monocoque body.
If you accept them for what they were and not what they weren’t you will really enjoy them. If you don’t do your own maintenance then they really are not for you.
Parts are inexpensive – really inexpensive- and available. The parts support for these cars is superb.