Читать книгу The Illustrated History of Triumph Sports and Racing Cars - G. William Krause - Страница 10

CHAPTER 2

The acerbic Sir John Black. His leadership and efforts during World War II resulted in his knighthood, but he was known for being a harsh taskmaster. Wise and forward thinking in many ways, Black was also capable of making important decisions based solely on emotion. He is seen here with the first Mayflower two-door coupe, another project he oversaw personally. (Photo Courtesy British Motor Industry Heritage Trust)

The T-series MGs are most frequently credited as being the catalyst for the sports car invasion of the United States. Returning U.S. servicemen brought home more than the spoils of war, they brought back unique little cars. The sporty little MG TA two-seaters with narrow track and skinny wire wheels were like nothing else on American roads of the day. People clamored to get one. And MG’s place became firmly entrenched in automobile lore. The Triumph story is not so quaint or romantic.

To say that nothing was left of Triumph at the end of the war is a gross understatement. Even if German bombs had not reduced the Briton Road factory to rubble, there would have been no way to build a car because Ward sold off all tooling and production facilities. Triumph had also lost Healey’s deft touch for sports car design after he left to pursue his ideas for his own car. John Black had nothing left but a small cache of replacement parts and barely usable engineering drawings. Fortunately, Black still had William Lyons.

What cannot be glossed over here is the marvel of how quickly companies such as Standard got back to the business of building cars after the end of the war. It was not just that they had stopped building cars in favor of aircraft or tanks, the factories were bombed heavily and repeatedly. Imagine 1940s Detroit being bombed regularly for years and then to begin retooling for car manufacturing in a mere few months.

As the war drew to a close in 1944, Lyons went right back to work building his cars. However, he dropped “SS” from the company name because of the very unfortunate link to the German military unit. In 1939, Standard began supplying Lyons’ SS-Jaguar company with an ever-growing number of engines, gearboxes, and axles. Standard also picked up where it had left off. At the time, Black’s personal car happened to be an SS100. Probably not a conflict of interest but it may have raised a few eyebrows.

It was clear to see how many engines were going to Jaguar. Therefore, Black, who was known to be a harsh taskmaster and also to make emotional decisions, decided that he wanted to add a sporting image to Standard. It was the obvious move after he had made an attempt to partner with Lyons’ company but was rejected on the spot. Reacting impulsively, Black offered to sell Lyons the remaining 6-cylinder engines and all the associated tooling. Lyons seized the opportunity and with one fell swoop gathered everything up and skedaddled down the road before Black could back out. From this day forward, Black was determined to beat Lyons at his own game; he wanted a sports car that would compete with and beat Jaguar head-on.

Sir John Black (seated) and Harry Ferguson (second from left) formed an alliance wherein Triumph supplied the Vanguard 4-cylinder wet-sleeve engines for Ferguson tractor manufacture in England. The TE20 tractors, known as “Fergies” were built in excess Triumph manufacturing space at Banner Lane. This partnership provided Triumph with much-needed capital for development of new cars. Black’s eventual successor, Alick Dick, can be seen behind his right shoulder. (Photo Courtesy British Motor Industry Heritage Trust)

In 1944, Standard purchased what remained of Triumph for £75,000. It then promptly sold the remains of the factory for the same amount but kept just the name Triumph, essentially for free. At that point, it was unclear what was to become of it.

It should be noted that at this point in the chronology, the charismatic tractor builder Harry Ferguson arrived on the scene. He was looking to establish his tractors in England and needed manufacturing space. Black had a vast production facility left over from the war that he needed to fill so they formed an alliance.

Black, already anticipating the conclusion of the war, badly wanted to be the first car manufacturer back in full production. In 1944, he authorized the beginning of new body designs for Standard. Because it was going to take all hands to get the new Standard models up to speed, Black decided that he would oversee the design and production of the new sports car personally. The new car was going to be produced under the Triumph banner. It would begin as his own personal car and that would eventually become the production model.

At this point, all Black had was the Triumph nameplate, which had a history and reputation for quality. It should be noted that Triumph had enjoyed a higher reputation for quality than Standard, so Black had a good base from which to start. But, he had no experienced designers, no chassis, and Lyons had taken his 6-cylinder engines. At one point, Black even tried to hire Cecil Kimber to run the new venture and develop the new sports car. Kimber, the man behind MG’s pre-war success, declined the offer just days before a freak rail accident at King’s Cross Station in London took his life.

Sir John Black wanted Triumph’s new post-war sports car to be modeled after the Jaguar SS100. Black’s own personal car was an SS100 and he charged two fledgling designers with the task of creating the new car. (Photo Courtesy Richard Spiegelman)

THE FIRST POST-WAR SPORTS CAR

It was determined that there would be two new Triumph models: a saloon and an open touring roadster. The cars would be manufactured using the knowledge gained from building aircraft, which included using tubular frames and aluminum bodywork. However, there was virtually no budget, so Black had to settle for using existing Standard components as much as possible.

Black charged two fresh, young draftsmen, Frank Callaby and Arthur Ballard, to come up with a roadster as sleek and stylish as the SS100. In 1946, Frank Callaby penned a design that became the first post-war car to carry the Triumph badge: the 1800 Roadster. The design of the car has been credited primarily to Callaby, although writings indicate that Callaby’s greatest influence was on the front of the car while Ballard concentrated on the rear.

The new car was built using the skills learned from years of wartime manufacturing, specifically in building the center fuselage for the Mosquito fighter. The frame for the 1800 was built from tubular steel, which would have been easy enough given the experience level, but the challenge was that it had to be easily modified to support the saloon. The idea was to use a shorter frame for the sports car but a longer frame for the family car.

The body would be hand-formed aluminum wrapped around an ash wood frame. At the time, this was typical for most British manufacturers. Ash frame components were used famously in Morgan cars as well for decades to come.

The styling of the car was as unusual as some of its features. It bore no resemblance to any of Triumph’s contemporaries, and certainly no likeness to Black’s SS100. The similarities might have been in spirit but were certainly not physical.

Starting at the front, from a head-on view, the car was impressive and slightly imposing. With its tall grille, massive chrome headlamps, and dual horns, it looked like a descendant of the 1930s classic era. However, its profile did not harken to the same classics.

The rear track of the car was 5 inches wider (12.7 cm) than the front track (presumably to gain more passenger room) so the car was at a proportional disadvantage immediately. The long, narrow hood was flanked by rounded bulbous, pontoon-like fenders. Unlike the more sleek motorcycle-style fenders of the Jaguar and MG T-series, the hand-beaten front fenders were freestanding but were fared into the body ahead of the doors. The fenders virtually enveloped the front wheels from front to rear with a demure running light mounted at the top. Sandwiched between the end of the front fender and the start of the rear wheel arch were smallish doors that were hinged at the rear. The flip-out metal trafficator was fared-in just behind the door hinge.

Triumph’s first post-war sports car and the first car to carry the Triumph badge after World War II. Frank Callaby and Arthur Ballad designed the 1800 Roadster and modeled it from the Jaguar SS100. The styling represents a 10-year evolution from the SS100 of the mid-1930s to the post-war trend toward fully enveloped bodies. (Photo Courtesy Warwick Carter)

The 1800 Roadster shows some disproportions, likely caused by the two designers splitting duty between the front and rear of the car. The long hood and statuesque grille are reminiscent of a pre-war Jaguar, but aft of the windshield post the car becomes compressed and quickly curtailed. It is an open car and named a “Roadster,” but it is not a roadster in the same sense as other sports cars of the day. (Photo Courtesy Warwick Carter)

The tall and imposing grille, large close-mounted headlamps, and dual horns harkened back to the pre-war classics. The body of the Roadsters were assembled in the Canley factory using pre-war methods with aluminum panels formed on the same presses that once produced aircraft fuselages. The manual construction process limited output to just over 2,500 of the 1800 Roadsters produced. (Photo Courtesy Warwick Carter)

From the rear wheel arch to the grille, the car was stylish and handsome. Looking rearward from the doors is where things became somewhat disproportioned. In relation to the long hood, the car ended quickly with the high, rounded trunk dropping off almost immediately aft of the axle.

Seating was by far the most unique feature of the car. An American-style bench seat filled the two-door cockpit and claimed to fit three adults. The plush interior was of high-quality fit and finish that featured an all-wood dash, two-spoke steering wheel, roll-up windows, and padded door panels with wood trim. These were all quality hallmarks of the original Triumph badge.

A curious addition was a hideaway seat in the style of an American rumble seat, or British dickie seat, that opened like a clam shell from the rear deck with two individually folding seatbacks. Unlike American rumble seats, the assembly included a stout flip-up windscreen that was similar to pre-war dual-cowl phaetons. Black frequently contributed to designs in an effort to be like Lyons, and the unique rear seat was said to be his idea, or rather, his insistence.

Triumph maintained its pre-war reputation for quality with the interior. The plush interior featured a polished walnut veneer dashboard, roll-up windows, and padded door panels. Marketing materials claimed that the cockpit could seat three adults. Given that the full width of the car was just 64 inches, it was an optimistic claim. (Photo Courtesy Warwick Carter)

The auxiliary seating at the rear of the car was the Roadster’s most unique feature and provided space for two additional passengers. Known as a dickie seat, the apparatus is simple to operate. Turn the handle to roll the rear hatch back into place and flip up the secondary windscreen. When the seat assembly is closed, the foot well doubles as a parcel compartment. However, anything placed in this space can be viewed easily through the folded-down windscreen because it becomes part of the body form when closed. (Photo Courtesy Warwick Carter)

Most adults would likely find it difficult to climb into the supplemental seating compartment. Although there are steps, small rubber pads on the bumpers, there are no additional aides to getting into the compartment. Climbing around the open hatch is better suited for younger passengers. The space itself is not claustrophobic, but the seats are really only adequate for short distances. (Photo Courtesy Warwick Carter)

Climbing into the rear auxiliary seats was no easy feat. The two folding seats were adequate for short trips but would be harsh and unyielding over a long journey.

When compared to Black’s target of the Jaguar SS100, the 1800 Roadster was a big car at 175 inches (444.5 cm) long, 64 inches wide (162.5 cm), and 56 inches tall (142.2 cm). The Jaguar was 153 inches (388.6 cm) long, 63 inches (160.0 cm) wide, and 52 inches tall (130.0 cm). The Jag sat two, while the 1800 advertised seating for five.

Compared to the archetype MG TC’s 139.5-inch length (354.3 cm), 56-inch (142.2 cm) width, and 53-inch height (134.6 cm), the Triumph was titanic. The 1800 Roadster’s aluminum bodywork atop a tubular steel chassis was a technological leap over the MG ash and plywood undercarriage. The post-war steel shortage prompted the use of aluminum bodywork, which was a blessing in disguise for Triumph. Imagine what stamped steel bodywork would have added to the car’s weight!

Beneath the long hood sat the venerable 4-cylinder OHV 1,776-cc, engine. This was the same engine that Lyons had also been buying steadily from Standard. However, this engine was not part of the deal when Black impetuously sold components to Lyons.

The 4-cylinder’s 63 hp was routed through the same 4-speed gearbox that was also being supplied to Jaguar. However, the shift linkage was modified to move from a floor shift to a column shift, which became quite popular after the war. In addition, the column shift made it easier to fit a bench seat to accommodate a third passenger.

The T-series MG is frequently credited as being the catalyst for the British sports car invasion in the years immediately following World War II. At the time, the small cars with their narrow track and very open two-seat cockpits were a true novelty on U.S. highways. The T-series had body-on-frame construction throughout the 19-year run beginning in 1936. A 1,250-cc engine making 54 hp powered the TC; just enough to start the thirst for open-air motoring. (Photo Courtesy Classic Car Garage)

The elegantly appointed Renown was among the first post-war models to carry the Triumph badge. Sharing the same platform with the Roadster, bodywork was built by Mulliners of Birmingham. Body panels were formed over a wooden buck using sheets of aluminum. Steel was still scarce after the war and aluminum was cheaper and more plentiful. Approximately 4,000 Renowns were built between 1949 and 1954. (Photo Courtesy Simon Goldsworthy/Triumph World)

The 1800’s 1,776-cc wet-sleeve engine was used through the 1948 models. In 1949 the Roadster received the 2-liter (2,088-cc) engine that boosted horsepower from 63 to 68 and delivered an additional 10 mph in top speed. (Photo Courtesy Warwick Carter)

This powerplant propelled the 1800 Roadster from 0–60 mph in a lackadaisical 34.4 seconds. While the TC was no rocket, it reached 60 mph in a more invigorating 22.7 seconds. Both were easily bested by the Jaguar’s 13.5 seconds to 60 mph.

The underpinnings for the Roadster were all scavenged from Standard’s pre-war parts bin. Independent front suspension was achieved via a transverse leaf spring, upper wishbones, and lever-arm shocks. Semi-elliptic leaf springs and lever-arm shocks controlled the rear with 10-inch (25.4 cm) drum brakes fitted to all four corners.

Autocar magazine tested the 1800 Roadster in 1947 and declared it to be just adequate. High marks were given to the stability and visibility, but it received very low marks for performance, particularly the vague 4-speed shifter.

The price of the Roadster was listed at £695. Not likely considered a bargain at the time, but not at the high end of the spectrum either. Unfortunately, in the immediate post-war era, raw materials were hard to come by and customers could end up waiting literally years for their new car.

The saloon that was to share the scalable tubular frame did not resemble the Roadster in any way. Looking a little like a three-quarter Bentley of the same era, it featured elegant razor-edge styling. Designed by coachbuilder Mulliners with input from Callaby, the final polish came from Walter Belgrove, who was freshly released from wartime duties. The four-door car originally debuted as the 1800 Town and Country Saloon and saw several iterations before being renamed the Renown Saloon in 1950. It had a longer and more successful life than the Roadster.

The Mayflower was another project driven by Sir John Black’s personal oversight. The goal was to create a small saloon with razor-edge styling expressly for the U.S. market. Designed by Mulliners with stamped steel bodies built by Fisher and Ludlow, Americans found the shape to be controversial and the 38-hp side-valve engine to be underwhelming. (Photo Courtesy Simon Goldsworthy/Triumph World)

The 1800 Roadster remained unchanged from 1946 through 1948. For 1949 the 2-liter (2,088 cc) wet-sleeve engine from the Vanguard sedan replaced the 1,776-cc unit, which boosted horsepower to 68 and gave the top speed an additional 10-mph. This was a pivotal change because the 2,088-cc “Vanguard engine” became the heart of Triumph’s future sports cars.

Rewind, for a moment, back to the arrival of Harry Ferguson and his tractors. It is commonly thought that the Vanguard engine was plucked from the tractor assembly line and dropped into the Triumph. It is actually the other way around.

Ted Grinham was Standard’s Technical Director at the time and in many interviews has stated that the removable, water-surrounded cylinder sleeve concept was based on a Citroën design. The engine received its name from the immensely popular Triumph Vanguard sedans. It also happened to deliver loads of torque that made it desirable for use in tractors, as Ferguson did.

From 1948 to 1950, 4,500 2000 Roadsters were produced before production was halted. Long before the last car rolled down the line, Black had abandoned his desire to build a Jaguar beater. A few years earlier, Lyons had upped the ante significantly when he unveiled the magnificent and gorgeous Jaguar XK120.

The side view of the Mayflower better illustrates the awkward lines of the car. To achieve the razor-edge styling, the Renown was used as the base, but the wheelbase was reduced by 24 inches. Although it was not a success in its intended market, the Mayflower model went on to sell more than 35,000 units in Britain and Australia. (Photo Courtesy Simon Goldsworthy/Triumph World)

The Renown Saloon, which shared a platform with the Roadster, bore no resemblance to the sporting version whatsoever. This elegant four-door is also a prime example of razor-edge styling. The same 2-liter engine was shared across both body types; however, the Saloon’s version had a longer production run than the Roadster. (Photo Courtesy British Motor Industry Heritage Trust)

Officially called the TR-X (for “TRiumph eXperimental”) Triumph’s new prototype debuted at the 1950 Paris Auto Show. The futuristic coupe was later nicknamed the “Silver Bullet” because of its double-wall aluminum envelope body and metallic-gray exterior. (Photo Courtesy Plain English)

The astute Black had refocused his sights on the U.S. sports car market with the goal of filling the gap between the rudimentary MGs and the sophisticated Jaguars.

At the same time, Black was also personally overseeing the development of the Mayflower sedans. The two- and four-door cars also featured the razor-edge styling but with high-end features in a low-priced car. In his eyes, this car was going to be a big hit when it arrived in U.S. showrooms, hence the name Mayflower. Despite Black’s best efforts (a lot of effort and money was spent), the new cars landed in 1950 with a resounding thud.

By all accounts the Mayflower was not a bad car. Fit and finish were very good and it represented a great value. Unfortunately, the love-it-or-hate-it styling was seen as quirky and the 38-hp 1,247-cc engine failed to get any attention. Consider the Mayflower alongside a 1950 Ford Crestliner with a flathead V-8. No contest.

The Experimental Sports Car

Triumph’s all-new sports car, the TR-X, first appeared at the 1950 Paris auto show. Named for TRiumph eXperimental, the car was the brain-child of Walter Belgrove. A few years earlier, as the Roadster was foundering, Black launched a new sports car initiative. Belgrove was given free rein to design a sports car that would take the world by storm. The final concept was unlike anything that had been seen before and caused great controversy in the automotive press.

The TR-X, later nicknamed “Silver Bullet,” was a double-wall aluminum envelope-bodied two-seater wrapped around a too-short Vanguard sedan chassis. The short wheelbase, small cockpit, and narrow track gave it a high beltline and tiny folding top. The 2,088-cc engine from the Roadster, bumped to 71 bhp, powered it with the help of larger SU carburetors. Futuristic designs were just becoming all the rage, and Belgrove’s car was no exception. It looked like a 1950s concept of George Jetson’s sports car from the TV cartoon show The Jetsons.

It was later dubbed the “push-button roadster” because it was packed with every conceivable modern luxury option, obviously aimed at Americans. It included electro-hydraulically powered seats, windows, and top, as well as hideaway headlights, inboard hydraulic jacks, a power hood that could be opened from either side, and overdrive transmission.

The two-seater later became known as the “push-button roadster” because it was loaded with every conceivable modern luxury option. Clearly aimed at the U.S. market, the car featured power seats, power windows and top, a power hood that could open from either side, and even inboard power jacks. (Photo Courtesy Plain English)

The motoring press either loved or deplored the car and debated about it for a year in response to Triumph’s continuing publicity. It was a moot point because the TR-X never reached production. One year after its debut Black, in an attempt to save face, announced that only a limited number of TR-Xs were to be built despite the “thousands of orders” that were received. The real reasons for the delays were Standard’s lack of production capacity and capital to produce the complicated body and over-the-top options. In the end, only two examples of the car were built which, in hindsight, is fortunate. Had Standard built the car it is unlikely that the design would have held up over time because it was so out of synch with the market.

The TR-X, or “Bullet” was the first Triumph to offer hideaway headlights. The electrically controlled doors dropped into the forward portion of the fenders. Despite several other prototypes featuring hidden headlamps, it wasn’t until 1975 that they were incorporated into a production model. (Photo Courtesy Moss Motors)

Walter Belgrove designed the TR-X as a replacement for the Roadster. Three prototypes were built and mounted on the Standard Vanguard chassis. Interestingly, nothing from this project carried over to the new sports cars that took the world by storm. (Photo Courtesy Plain English)

The rear view illustrates how fully enveloped the all-aluminum body was, right down to the skirts on the rear wheels and diminutive door handles. Three working prototypes were completed but suffered from frequent system failures. It was highly ambitious and forward thinking, but it’s doubtful that production versions would have been sustainable. (Photo Courtesy Moss Motors)

The demise of the TR-X was one-third of a triple blow to Black and Standard. Not only was he left without a sports car, but William Lyons had just brought out his enormously well-received XK120. In addition, Morgan had rejected Black’s bid to acquire his company just as the promising new Plus 4 model (powered by the same Vanguard 2,088-cc engine) was coming out.

The never-say-die Sir John Black was not to be denied. He demanded that Belgrove and his designers come up with a simple, inexpensive sports car to go head-to-head with MG and Morgan. His directive dictated off-the-shelf parts, the 1,991-cc Vanguard engine, a £500 price tag, and a 90-mph top speed. The body would need to be new, but also as inexpensive as possible to produce. At the time an MG TD went for £530; £565 would buy a Morgan Plus 4. A new Donald Healey creation, the “100,” was debuting at £750.

BACK TO THE DRAWING BOARD: THE FIRST TR

A prototype was built in just eight weeks and the public had its first look at the new 20TS (later known as TR1) at the Earls Court Motor Show in 1952. Reviews were mixed, but all agreed on three things: high potential performance, the striking front end and radiator opening, and something had to be done about the stubby rear end and exposed spare tire.

The simple nose with recessed radiator opening was the most popular design element of the car. This could be termed a happy accident because it was a result of cost-saving measures. A true grille would cost extra to produce, but a hole was cheap. A coarse-grate screen was eventually added to the back of the opening.

The cutaway doors (later nicknamed “kidney coolers” in some circles) were sporty (in the style of MG T-Series and Jaguar) and a cost-saving measure. Attaching the fenders with nuts and bolts was the least expensive route. The seams between the body and fenders were covered with a metal bead that was originally body color, but later changed to chrome, which gave the car a distinctive look. The no-nonsense cockpit featured two bucket seats and a full array of gauges to emphasize the seriousness of the sportiness.

The directive for a small and light car meant minimal overhang at the front and rear, which is why the tail of the car cuts off so abruptly. The exposed spare tire was an effort to blend an element of MG and Morgan into the car.

The stubby form was bolted to an out-of-the-parts-bin Standard Flying Nine chassis. The 7-foot 4-inch wheelbase was well-suited for the sports prototype, but the frame itself was limiting, to say the least. It wasn’t terribly stout by sports car standards of the day and rear suspension travel was limited by the side rails. The rear axle was held in place by half-elliptic leaf springs, but the rear axle sat on top of the main frame rails. The rails limited travel severely and rendered the lever-arm shock absorbers nearly useless.

At the other end, the more modern tubular shock absorbers used in the Mayflower were the obvious choice for the front suspension. Additional reinforcements were necessary at all mounting points.

The mandated Vanguard power unit was nestled low in the front of the frame. It was counter-balanced at the rear by the fuel tank and spare tire. The 20TS had a very low center of gravity that eliminated the need for anti-roll bars. More cost savings!

Again, the cosmetics of the new car were thoroughly analyzed in the press, but no one could comment on performance because no one had driven the car.

BRM team driver Ken Richardson had recently joined Standard-Triumph and was asked to test the 20TS only a few days after the show. Richardson had a long affiliation with Standard during the war years and, after the war, Standard was doing machining work on the BRM V-16 engines.

In an interview with Triumph Over Triumph magazine in 1997, Richardson said that he found the car to be an accident on wheels after only a few minutes on the road. Specifically, he noted that the car wallowed, shook, and even jumped sideways. The front suspension flexed under load, steering was imprecise and unpredictable at speed, and the brakes locked easily. “This caused several moments for me that can only be described as very unpleasant adrenaline cocktails,” Richardson said. In summary, he went on to describe the prototype as “a complete dog’s breakfast.”

When writing up his evaluation for Sir John, Richardson thought to himself that it was going to be the end of his job at Standard-Triumph. Instead, Richardson played a key role in polishing the diamond-in-the-rough into a real production sports car. Of course, there was no time to spare because Black demanded the revised car be ready for the Geneva show, a mere four months later.

As feared, the Flying Nine chassis was the root of the prototype’s shortcomings. Richardson’s team went to work building a new frame. Dimensions from the original form were retained, but an all-new chassis was designed with stronger steel, greater boxing, and relocated cross braces with additional gussets. Richardson road-tested the prototype tirelessly with every change until he was satisfied that it would pass as a production car.

Meanwhile, Belgrove was busy re-styling the 20TS. The front portion of the car was left intact except for relocating the indicator lights into the front apron. The tail of the car was completely redesigned. It was lengthened by 10 inches and given a normal trunk with a proper closing lid. Belgrove came up with the nifty idea of locating the spare wheel in its own compartment below the trunk floor with an access door on the rear panel. He also designed a stylish, removable hardtop using the revolutionary new glass fiber material. However, it was deemed too expensive and tabled until 1954.

Optimism at Standard-Triumph grew with each improvement, but the pressure was on as word of a new MG TF came from Abingdon, and Healey was already in production with the Austin-Healey 100. Then a shot rang out that startled them all. Rootes announced that its new Sunbeam Alpine had broken the 100-mph barrier. The official top speed of 120 mph was achieved by noted rally driver Sheila Van Damm. Focus immediately moved to the Vanguard powerplant; 71 bhp would never do. The edict was power with reliability.

Compression was raised to 8.6:1 from 7:1, which had immediate results of delivering 80 bhp. Intake valve size was increased by 5 percent, valve lift was increased, and camshaft timing was changed for 10 degrees of greater overlap at Top Dead Center. These tweaks yielded an additional 4 bhp. Finally, the twin 1½-inch constant-vacuum down-draft SU carburetors were fitted with new needles that resulted in 90-bhp output.

With each engine upgrade, Richardson dutifully flogged the car on the test track, pushing the engine well past the recommended 5,000 rpm. Cylinder heads cracked, bearings broke, and camshafts bent. Engineers responded to each incident quickly. A redesigned head gasket coupled with extending the head bolts deeper into the block cured the cracking. Lubrication systems were improved to protect the main bearings and a heavier metal in the crankshaft cured the ills.

Power was transmitted through a 9-inch dry clutch to the unchanged Vanguard gearbox. A Laycock de Normanville overdrive was bolted to the rear of the box but was only useable in top gear. The transmission posed no problems during development and was left untouched throughout the process.

After Richardson was regularly and reliably hitting the century mark on the test track, Black ordered him and the TR2 to the Jabbeke Road in Belgium for a speed run. The highway, located in the northwest of Belgium, was something of a Bonneville Salt Flats of Europe where many speed tests were conducted in the 1950s. What made it so desirable then was that it was a brand-new, smooth concrete highway that was long, straight, and incredibly flat.

The prototype 20TS later became the TR1 that launched the iconic TR line of sports cars. The TR1 shown here at the Brussels Auto Show was unveiled at the 1952 Earls Court Motor Show after just eight weeks of gestation. It was created on a very small budget; many of the styling cues seen here were carried over to the final production model. (Photo Courtesy Revs Institute, Karl Ludvigsen Collection)

On May 20, 1953, a TR2 trimmed with a single diminutive Brooklands-style racing windshield, metal tonneau cover, metal undertray, and rear fender skirts made its first official run. Triumph legend suggests that the seat was removed and Richardson was sitting on a cushion to get as low in the car as possible.

The 20TS is shown in Coventry on a break from testing by Ken Richardson. The grit and grime of the proving grounds is evident on the side of the car. This view also reveals the sharply curtailed rear end and the exposed spare tire. With the exception of the fender-mounted turn signal indicators, the front section of the car was retained in the final design. (Photo Courtesy British Motor Industry Heritage Trust)

Here, Ken Richardson is all set for his speed test at Jabbeke Road in Belgium in 1953. The TR2 was modified to reduce drag by removing bumpers and including a metal tonneau cover, rear fender skirts, and a belly pan. The full windshield was removed and replaced with a small aero screen. To get as low as possible in the car, Richardson removed the seat and sat on the floor. The TR2 was clocked at 124.889 mph and went into the record books with the highest top speed of the day for a 2-liter production car. (Photo Courtesy British Motor Industry Heritage Trust)

The first two-way run was clocked at just over 104 mph. This was a credible run, but was disheartening to the Triumph crew because everyone felt the potential was much greater. With typical British aplomb, Richardson suggested to the engineers that the car might do better running on all four cylinders rather than three. A plug wire was quickly replaced and on the ensuing run the TR2 topped 124.8 mph, thereby officially launching Triumph’s new sports car.