Talk Morgan Forums Morgan Sports Cars Morgan Three Wheeler & Super 3 Clarkson in the Sunday Times

They photo shopped Jeremy Clarkson into the M3W for the photo in today's article. Is the truth that he couldn't fit into it, so had to get Richard Hammond to test it for him? All in all 'tho, as he's always pretty rude about Morgans, quite a positive review.

About time MMC reviewed the wild wooly haired one isn't it.

Whoops I feel a gagging order coming on

Jeremy Clarkson's review of the Morgan 3 wheeler in today's Sunday Times was friendly enough. But did he really drive it? I had my first go yesterday, and I'm an ordinary sort of bloke. 5'10''...ish. Fits me perfectly. Like a glove. Jeremy is a big lad. 6'5" if you believe Wikipedia. Say 6'4" as he's getting on a bit now. The pedals are tight, but there's lots of room in the passenger seat footwell. Enough legroom for a big bloke's bigger dad. Jeremy said one curious thing. "one of the big differences [from anything else allowed on the road] is that it's very difficult to reach the brake pedal." No it's not, Jeremy. It's right next to the accelerator. It's only difficult to reach if you are sitting in the passenger seat.

anyway someone could post what he said so the rest of us on the other side of the pond can read it?

Only room for a Hamster left in the footwell I guess pedal pushing.

Come on Notlob what was it like - did you get a chance to warm it up a bit.

Quite honestly I have not watched many Top Gear programs particularly as the wooly haired one seems only content when he is burning tyres down to the rims. Being a Principal Engineer I find this mind numbingly boring and antipodean to my whole existance. Enjoy power without trashing is good as in the German lady at the Ring teaching "boy" Clarkson how to drive properly.

When Ken Block shreds tyres to the rim and beyond it's painful to watch but totally captivating because this is an immense talent at work , not a pen and a bit of -ullshit.

I'll check out the ST as it were for the sake of a balanced view

Ok. It's a broadsheet so doesn't fit in my scanner very well but I'll post it (with a cut-down picture) in the following replies. The text will be OCR'd so make allowances.

I SAY, CHAPS, WHO BALLY WELL NEEDS A FOURTH WHEEL?

---

'Is it fast? No. Is
it practical? No. Is
it comfortable?
Yes, compared
with being
stabbed .. Did I
enjoy myself in it?
Absobloodylutely'

---


Almost no one wakes up in the
morning and thinks: "I know.
Today, I shall start a car
company." And those who do
make this curious lifestyle
choice never decide to make
a small hatchback, or a solar-powered
trike that could be used in the
emerging-world. No. They always,
always, always think: "I shall make a
supercar."


Usually, this is foolish. Oh, you may
have a mate who is a dab hand with
glass fibre and you may have a
considerate bank manager who did a bit
of racing in his day and likes the idea of
your quad-turbo, multi-supercharged
300mph road rocket. But what you are
actually starting is a corner shop. And
I'm sorry but Ferrari and Lamborghini
are the supermarkets. And, as a result,
their carrots are going to be more orange
and cheaper than yours. which means
that pretty soon you will get a letter
from your previously supportive bank
manager that begins thus: "I am
disappointed to note ... "


I look at the efforts from Noble and
Koenigsegg and Zenvo and Spyker and
Saleen and I'm afraid I can't help
thinking that these cars, while
interesting and commendable, are
ultimately a shoreline on which some
poor blighter's hopes will one day be
dashed.


You go to the Geneva motor show and
every year there's some poor chap in a
bad suit, sitting in the unlit lowlands of
the hall, desperately hoping that
someone will notice the terrible car into
which he's ploughed his, life savings.
And you always think: "Why?"

The Ferrari 458 is a stunning,
bewildering, brilliant, intoxicating blend
of power, finesse, poise, technology,
styling, rage, speed and g. It was created
by some of the most extraordinary
minds in the automotive world in one of
the most advanced factories. And forgive
me but you aren't going to be able to
make something better in a shed at the
bottom of your garden.

Which brings us neatly on to Morgan.
Unlike any other small car company, it
does not try to beat the big boys. It
simply makes stuff that you can't get
anywhere else. Sound business, if you
ask me.

What Morgan makes is a range of
cars for people who still believe it's 1938.
People who use the word "bally".
Enthusiasts of the side parting. Fans of
sheepdog trials who like to get under the
"old girl"at weekends to do a bit of
burnishing. Not me, in other words.

In recent years there have been
attempts to bring the company to a
point where the second world war has
actually begun, with cars such as its
Aero. But this is dangerous because
when you lose that traditional Morgan
"look" you're going to alienate your
customer base. "Pah. The old girl looks
like a bally Nissan," is what they'd say.

Plainly, the people at Morgan thought
the same thing, which is why they've
now decided to go back to their roots, to
a time when someone had invented the
wheel ... but not four of them. Morgan
began in life making three-wheelers and
the company is at it again with what is
surely the most preposterous car on the
market today.

Imaginatively called the Three
Wheeler, it started out as an American
engineer's homage to Morgan's
Neolithic approach to car design and
manufacture. He built a bike-engined
three-wheeler and the powers that be at
Ye Olde workshoppe in Malvern
thought: "Golly. That bally Yank may be
on to something here." They went over
there and bought him out for a reputed
sum of 20 guineas. And some beads.

First, Morgan's engineers ditched his
Harley-Davidson engine and replaced it
with something called the X-Wedge. It's
a 2-litre air-cooled V2 with a solid forged
crank and three belt-driven camshafts.
But the layout is nothing compared with
where it is. In short, it's not in the car.
It's slung out in front, where it sits like a
big, complicated bumper. There is, so far
as I can see, absolutely no reason for
this.

Enthusiasts say that because the
engine is air-cooled it's better that it sits
exposed, but I don't buy this. The engine
in a Volkswagen Beetle is air-cooled and
that sat inside the car, not overheating,
just fine. I suspect it's not in the car so
that people can look at it and get all
adenoidal and nostalgic about how life
was better in black and white.

Of course, putting a two-cylinder
engine in front of the car is nothing
compared with what they've done at the
back, which is to fit just one wheel.

I should imagine that when Morgan
enthusiasts see this, many will quickly
develop a noticeable bulge in their
Rohans. Whereas I stood there thinking:
"Have these people never seen a
three-legged dog? It doesn't work. And
neither will that."

Amazingly, though, it does. I know
better than most that a Reliant Robin
falls over whenever it is presented with
any sort of curve and any sort of forward
momentum. That's because Reliant
chose to fit a single wheel at the front.
Morgan, however, has turned everything
around and fitted a single wheel at the
back. The stability is remarkable. It takes
a while to get the confidence to push,
but push you can until, eventually, you
discover that it will get round
Donington's old Hairpin at 80mph.
Almost exactly three-quarters of the
speed that would be possible if it were an
actual car.

Other things worthy of note? Well,
the vibrations are bad, and if you are
more than, say, 3ft tall, you may have to
take a leaf out of the car's book and leave
a limb at home. Also, at £30,000, it is
expensive.

However, I'm afraid to admit I rather
liked it. I like the way Morgan painted it
to look like a second world war fighter
plane - something most Morgan
owners think has only just been
invented - but most of all I like the way
that it feels so completely and absolutely
different from anything else that is
allowed on the road.

One of the big differences is that it's
very difficult to reach the brake pedal.
Another is that your head's in the
slipstream and your right arm is like
the engine, sitting outside the bodywork.

Even the engine feels weird. Because
there are only two cylinders, the torque
comes in staccato bursts. On second
you have enough to fell a tree; the next
you're becalmed. Morgan even had to fit
a cushioning device to the running gear
so that the Mazda MX-5 gearbox could
cope.

And yet, you can do a doughnut in it.
And you can leave the lights in a cloud of
smoke as that single rear tyre does its
best and fails to put the power on the
road. I bet if you really wanted, you
could make it buzz the bally tower. After
five minutes behind the wheel, I began
to think I might be Kenneth More.

Is it fast? No. Is it safe? Perhaps not. Is
it practical? No. Is it comfortable? Yes ...
compared with being stabbed. But did I
enjoy myself in it?

Absobloodylutely. Let me put it to you
this way. You have a choice of going to
Paris this afternoon on a once in a
lifetime trip. Would you prefer to make
the journey in a comfortable Airbus
A320, or a draughty, noisy Spitfire? My
case rests.

Sorry, folks, we couldn't catch up with Jeremy
Clarkson in time to photograph him
in the Morgan Three Wheeler so we
superimposed his face on the picture

[quote=4/4sportsfun]Come on Notlob what was it like - did you get a chance to warm it up a bit.

It’s bigger in the metal than it looks in pictures. As different from the Aeros of the twenties as the new MINI is to the old. Wide too; the front wheels are like the claws on a great land crab, scooping fodder into the maws of that great chrome engine. The exhausts really do look like tusks. Not a crab then, some more terrible creature of the deep. When you hit the starter button the engine turns slowly at first. Think of old films of open cockpit fighters on pitching carrier decks. It’s a heavy crank, and each pot is a third bigger than the pistons on a red label Bentley. Two cycles, maybe three, then it fires, writhing and kicking in its frame. The whole car shudders and shakes itself, then the engine settles down to a steady throb, sounding placid and domestic after the sports exhausts we heard at Prescott and Goodwood.

Clamber into the passenger seat. One hand on the rollover bar. Easier than a traddie. No door, no hood, no hassle. Wonderful soft leather seats. And a long, deep footwell. Big enough for, oh, Jeremy Clarkson maybe. Off we go. The road is greasy from overnight rain and the car twitches lightly as the power comes on. It’s not noisy out there. Easy conversation, sounds of birdsong, grins from passers by. Low grumbling from the transmission, a graunchy whine like an old double decker. No diff, so perhaps the bevel box? It’s a development part, it’ll be all right on the night I am assured.

The speedo isn’t working so we drive by the revs. 2,500 in third is the speed limit. Nice and easy does it. Through the lights and round the corner. We swap over. Into the driving seat after nearly ten months anticipation. The Eurofighter start button. Neat but not gaudy. Spitting and shaking into life. A large steering wheel covered in some sort of grippy sticky leather. Not unpleasant, but totally obscuring the rev counter. Delicately turned aluminium indicator stalk with green arrows on the central dash. Can’t hear the beeper. Feather the clutch and stall elegantly. Rattle and roll. More revs and off. Down the hill to the big roundabout. Touch the brakes. Spongy but effective. Might need re-bleeding, or just bedding in. Careful not to push it on the damp road. Round the curves the steering is wonderfully direct, almost like a motorbike, you just think it through after the initial gyroscope resistance of those tall front wheels. Up the hill there’s a pair of traffic police on bikes, one either side of the road. Their heads turn in unison. Itching to give it the beans we trickle past, trying to remember the revs for fifty. They don’t follow. Accelerate. Nothing seems to happen, until we realise the puttering engine has risen to a roar and the wind is sucking at our eyeballs. Glance at the rev counter. Back off for the next roundabout. Badly want to carry on all day but it’s back to the showroom over the speed bumps in the back lane, which the little three wheeler (it has already shrunk as we take its measure) takes without a murmur.

So is it as good as we hoped? On the evidence of this example, the marque is a work in progress and there are more development points to resolve, but yes, it really is. It is a genuine cycle car, half way between a lithe and nimble Caterham and a stately and sonorous Indian. No, it is better than that. It is a true Morgan.

Notlob

BTW this refers to Clarkson not your review