QOTD: Towing Trouble?

Depending on your lifestyle, hanging something off the rear bumper of your car, SUV, or pickup might be a regular occurence. Maybe you’re a member of the horsey set, hauling thoroughbreds to and from the tonier enclaves of Southern California or Kentucky. Perhaps you’re a road trip buff with a family to lug around. It could be that boats and ATVs consume every minute of your waking thoughts, and the contents of your garage show it.

Or, just maybe, you’re the owner of an old Mazda B-Series who searches in vain every week for just enough scrap metal to keep the lights on at home.

At some point in your towing experience, did something go terribly awry?

Your author has no such tale to tell, as compact, manual-transmission cars are not the best way to lug heavy objects over great distances. My urban lifestyle has no need for a traditional hitch or fifth wheel, though a friend recently bought a mint 2004 Toyota 4Runner in order to haul a dilapidated 1980s trailer up to a secluded spot near a creek. I’m envious of the 4Runner, the trailer, and the creek, and I want everyone to know that.

A story passed down to me from my late father does involve towing, however, and it’s one that feels like it should have taken place in Britain, possibly as the plot of a comedy show. It involves a British car, you see. One that tackled a great challenge and lost.

Well, sort of.

Back in the early ’60s, my grandfather (who once worked at Ford’s Chicago Assembly but never seemed to take a shine to the brand) purchased a family car. It’s important to note that at the height of the Baby Boom, British imports were still going strong in Canada. Tempted by a low price, granddad bought a Morris Minor 1000 to haul around his family of five… as well as a trailer meant to house that family when they visited their camp spot at a lake 2 hours distant.

While dad’s story doesn’t specify whether the Minor 1000 carried Morris’ 948cc or 1098cc inline-four, it’s probably safe to point to the larger of the two mills (which set up shop in the model in 1962). This powerhouse cranked out 48 horsepower and 60 lb-ft of torque — a far cry from the previous 37 hp/50 lb-ft.

Car, family, and trailer made it to the lake. They made it back, too, but not before the little Morris broke two connecting rods and nearly deafened its occupants with pinging as those now freewheelin’ rods attempted to claw their way to freedom. And they almost did.

Wouldn’t you know it, granddad managed to pilot the suddenly vastly overloaded vehicle back to the city on two sluggish cylinders, eventually performing an engine overhaul in his shed that amazed the local British import dealer. The Minor’s mini mill topped factory specs after that.

It’s not boats-passing-drivers-on-the-highway kind of stuff, but it’s an amusing tale nonetheless.

What’s yours?

[Image: Ford]