When you go looking for a project car, you’ve got a lot of decisions to make. One of those decisions is how big of a car do you want? Are you looking for a living room on wheels, or a tiny roadster with barely room for two? Today we’re going to look at one of each. There’s no middle ground here.
Yesterday we looked at two rather different vehicles, but they were at least close to the same size. From the comments, I gather a lot of you wanted to like the Alfa 164, but its instrument panel readings scared you off, and its automatic transmission didn’t help matters. The Ford Probe GT won handily.
The automatic in the 164 is a tragedy; I can imagine that workers in the Alfa Romeo factory wept openly while installing it. In a lot of cases, I can overlook an automatic if the car is something I otherwise like, but not an Alfa. Besides, I really like that Probe. It’s my kind of car: mechanically excellent, fun to drive, but scruffy-looking.
I find it funny that the two cars we’re about to look at are considered equals in so many ways. They use the same fuel, they’re both operable under the same license, and they can both be used for the same basic purpose. And yet, one is twice the size of the other. How can that be? They’re close in price, so clearly one is a better deal on a per-pound basis, but which one fits into your life better? That’s what we’re here to find out.
1962 Lincoln Continental – $3,000
Engine/drivetrain: 430 cubic inch OHV V8, three-speed automatic, RWD
Location: Austin, TX
Odometer reading: 61,000 miles
Operational status: Runs, but not sure if it’s drivable
Lincoln used the name Continental on a wide range of cars over the years, from a hand-built, V12-powered streamliner to what was essentially a stretched Ford Taurus. But when someone says “Lincoln Continental,” this is the car I picture: the slab-sided, suicide-doored 1960s model. It’s actually a little smaller than the Continentals that preceded it, but its square profile makes it look bigger. Not many cars have ever had as much presence as this one.
Such a big, heavy car needs a big engine, and in 1962 there was only one available: a 430 cubic inch V8 coupled to an automatic transmission. This one runs, and it sounds like the seller has done a lot of recent work to revive it, but no mention is made of the car’s other systems. Does it have brakes, for instance? How’s the suspension? The seller does say it’s “not a finished driver,” but how not finished is it?
The interior is not half bad, actually. It’s much better than I expected when I first saw the car. You could restore it, and parts are available to do so, but if you wanted to save some money and just leave it alone, it looks like you could get away with it.
The Continental’s coolest feature is, of course, those doors. And look how thick they are. There’s a reason this car weighs five thousand pounds; it’s built like a tank. This one looks worse than I think it really is; it’s three or four different colors, but the only significant rust is in the trunk lid. Again, you could probably just focus on the mechanical aspect of it and embrace the patina, if you wanted to.
1975 MG Midget – $2,898
Engine/drivetrain: 1.5 liter OHV inline 4, four-speed manual, RWD
Location: Hesperia, CA
Odometer reading: 69,000 miles
Operational status: Runs and drives well, not sure if it’s street-legal
Badge-engineering, the practice of creating a new model by changing the trim on an existing car, has been going on for a long time. Many people associate it with General Motors and its 1980s models, but the British car industry was at least as guilty of it. The MG Midget is exactly the same as an Austin-Healey Sprite, only with a slightly nicer interior. The two cars are so closely related that they are commonly referred to by the portmanteau “Spridget.” This is a fourth-generation Midget, known as the “1500” because of its 1.5 liter Triumph engine.
The 1500 engine replaced the old 1275cc A-series engine in 1974, to gain back some of the power lost to tightening emissions regulations. It’s the same engine used in the Midget’s chief rival, the Triumph Spitfire. In stock form, it makes a humble 50 horsepower, but this one is said to make more. The seller says it has been rebuilt “to street racing specs,” whatever that means. I see a big Weber carburetor and a tube-type header, but I have no idea what’s been done inside. I have to believe it still makes double-digit power, but with a small, lightweight car like this, a little extra power can go a long way.
The interior, except for the seats themselves, is a mess. I’m almost certain the seats have been reupholstered. My guess is that someone planned to fix it up, but only got as far as gutting it. All the stuff needed to make it pretty inside is available; it just takes time and money. It does have a roll bar, which is just good sense in a car this small, and it also includes a fiberglass hard top. I don’t see any sign of a soft top, though.
In 1975, the Midget, like the MGB, received large black rubber bumpers front and rear to meet US bumper standards. The Midget’s looks suffered even more than the MGB’s from the big bumpers, but it’s also a lot easier to remove them. Someone has ditched the rubber bumpers on this one, and installed an early-’70s style grille. They also filled in all the mounting holes for the old bumpers, which accounts for the spots of primer paint. It does come with taillight lenses, by the way; they’re in the trunk. Why they weren’t reinstalled after the bumper work, I don’t know.
I don’t know if there’s anybody besides me who would compare and contrast these two, let alone cross-shop them. But that’s exactly what I’m asking you to do today. Why? Because I can. So what’ll it be: the gigantic American luxury sedan, or the tiny British sports car?
Top photo: Craigslist
