Tagged MG Midget

Buttercup

There she was: a 1979 MG Midget at a yard sale on the corner of Solar Road, where my fiancé Ed lived south of Montrose, Colorado. With her bright yellow paint, black top, bumpers and tires, she looked like a giant bumble bee touching down in the middle of used clothes, pots, pans, dishes, and old…

Tech Tips: Spring 1995

I enjoy getting your newsletter very much and when it arrives I devour it cover to cover! I especially enjoy the Tech Tips and Under the Bonnet features and get a lot of useful information from them. Owning a 1976 MG Midget can be quite a challenge at times! Recently every 50 miles or so,…

Moss-Sponsored Midget Takes Championship

A driver’s-eye view from Stephen Newby. THE EVENT. This was the third in a three-race series sponsored by the Sports Car Club of BC, and the last race of the season in the International Conference of Sports Car Club championship race series. The championship points battle would be decided in this race. QUALIFYING. The Newby…

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Two Roads Out of Wendover

There are two roads out of Wendover, Utah, that lead to the Bonneville Salt Flats. One is interstate 80, and there is a sign on the road which says “Exit 4 Bonneville Speedway.” The other road is a strip of bituminous that was part of US 40 and the old Lincoln Highway. Today, it serves…

That Certain Insanity

You have to be just a little crazy to own a British car, and all British car owners will proudly proclaim that fact. It’s a case of constant breakdowns and repairs, strange and obsolete parts, bizarre mechanisms. But they love ’em, and my husband, Craig, is no exception. He is the owner of his second…

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Recapturing Youth

Earlier this year I bought myself a 1975 MGB for my 65th birthday.  I have pleasant memories of owning a well-worn 1962 MG Midget and then a rusty 1954 Austin Healy 100 while I was in college.  But why buy a 39 year old British sports car now? I had trouble articulating my reasons.  I…

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Mighty Midget: One Big Bad Blown Midget

If drivers match their cars, as owners match their dogs, then a glance at my MG midget clearly suggest that I wish to be an irresponsible teenager. Caring not a whit for safety, I am an immortal, screaming down the road with blaring exhaust, and my hair on fire. Please disregard the overweight, middle-aged man…

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