20 years ago this week, Rover Group pulled out of the US new car market.

Why? Because the business strategy was to sell upwards of 30k cars a year over there and it never achieved anything like that.

Factor in appalling J. D. Power initial quality results, plus the resultant cacophony of bad press, and it’s not hard to see why Rover fled with its tail between its legs.

The whole experience was one of great intentions but failed execution. Historically, British cars had always sold reasonably well in the states, particularly the sports cars. Rover wanted to revive this, and enjoy useful returns from what was then the world’s largest car market – first with executive models and later with an all-new sports car.

Add in the fact its launch car, the Rover 800, was actually a Honda Legend – a car already sold in the US as the Acura Legend (and thus already homologated) – and the logic was unfailing. Austin Rover Cars of North America (ARCONA) was duly established in 1986, selling a 2.5-litre V6 Rover 800.

Well, not quite: the cars were actually marketed under the Sterling brand. Thus, the launch car was actually a Sterling 825. With real wood veneer and lush Connolly leather, it was every inch the trad-modern British car.

US buyers agreed, with initial sales matching the well-established Honda/Acura: no mean feat for Rover, given the high standing Honda had in the US.

Being British, though, the company of course snatched defect from the jaws of victory.

Because, the rot quickly began to set in. Those J. D. Power survey results flowed… and, frankly, damned the Sterling brand mercilessly. Electrical problems, paint problems, corrosion, unreliability – the whole sorrowful lot was revealed by disenamoured US owners. The headliner was morbidly amusing: leather turned green in the sun. Not funny if you were an owner, though. A tragedy if you were Rover.

Overestimates, overproduction

It was all going wrong. In October 1989, recalls AROnline, 1800 people were laid off at the Cowley production plant. Weeks of work were cut in November, December and January. Plant turnover was 900 cars a week: it was geared up to do double. All the preparation work for those glorious US sales was going to waste. The US wasn’t buying.

Desperation set in. Rover released an image of the Rover 800 Coupe in 1990, a full two years before it was due to go on sale. All to try and rouse interest in the flailing US division – after all, the Coupe was designed specifically with the US market in mind.

Mind you, Rover’s admirable pricing stance was not helping things: the firm refused to discount. In a country that takes car discounts for granted even without the rampant price war that was underway at the time, this was misguided. Yet, in the early days, Sterling dealers couldn’t budge. They had their margins set in stone and they didn’t allow for much movement.

Well, I say ‘dealers’. In another sound idea turned sour, the 160 Sterling dealers weren’t actually stand-alone outlets. They were multi-franchise dealers, and thus, shared floorspace with Cadillacs, Buicks, Jeeps, even Daihatsus.

As the brand was selling a couple of cars a month, salesmen didn’t give it time and didn’t bother to learn the nuances. There was no loyalty. Sterling simply couldn’t gain traction with the people who were meant to be selling it. Another black mark.

Glimmer of hope?

Rover USA did eventually do something right: it installed Graham Morris as president. Former man behind the TR7 plant, he spoke very sensibly in late 1989 to Autocar, acknowledging the division’s failings and vowing to put them right.

By then, the company was renamed Sterling Motor Cars, Inc. It was trading with incentives, including $5000 cash back (mainly to shift all the unsold cars). Its dealers were happy and said quality was improving, after 44% of them told J. D. Power they’d be happy to leave a year earlier.

It was still bloody – 14k sales in 87 had dropped to 9k in 88 and would struggle to hit 6k in 89 – but Morris was saying the right things.

His business model? Range Rover in the US. That also used a multi-franchise dealer model. It worked. How? By being a niche maker with a desirable image. Sterling would achieve them same.

But then, bang. In August 1991, Rover pulled out, for the third time in 20 years. Chief executive George Simpson said it was all down to economic conditions, but disastrous sales pretty much saw to it anyway. They hadn’t picked up in 1990: 4015 were sold. 1991? 1878 to the end of July. It was disastrous. It was maybe inevitable.

But it was something that should not have happened.

How was it possible to fail when selling Honda engineering, which US buyers liked, topped off by British design and luxury, which US buyers liked, through a broad-network multi-franchise dealer network, which US buyers liked? Anyone?

The painful ache of irony

Ironies continued after the brand’s departure from the US. That’s because the US market was never to get the R17 facelift car, launched in 1992. This in itself was tragic, for it was a car that would surely have at least stated the US turnaround.

It was, remember, the first modern ‘aero’ car to bring back the traditional chrome grille, brilliantly integrated by Woolley. Remember the fuss it caused over here? Imagine how that would have gone down in the US.

The R17 also benefitted from many of the lessons learnt in the US. Rover, in fairness, had listened to all those complaints, and waded through all the J. D. Power statistics. The engineering department was duly charged with ensuring electrics didn’t go pop, leather didn’t turn green. The R17 was the quality-leap product of all that engineering. Which was was never to make it to the market that led to it

Nor, indeed, would the Coupe. Presenting Rover with yet more problems. Goodness, Europe certainly didn’t want a large 800-derived Coupe: but as there was no other home for it, lumbered with it we were. A tragic, complete waste of resource that once again showed how misguided the US pullout was.

The more you look at it, both the harder yet the easier it is to believe. But, given how Rover Group is no longer with us, maybe it’s also a lesson in how not to do things?

I do, however, have a treat for those of you who are particularly wistful and upset. Here is the last Sterling 827 sold in the US. Buy it and savour the memories…

Do you have any views on the failed Rover US exploration?

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Rover underwhelmed the world with the 1995 Rover 400.

There were many cars that could have marked the point where the more recent Rover rot set in: I point to this overpriced, bland-looking, too-small replacement for one of Rover’s top-5 best cars ever.

The reasons for its mediocrity are much, much-discussed elsewhere. Even so, there were surprises and delights that could be gleaned from the launch: tediously dull it sure was, but it still had its moments.

MOMENTS

The 400 was the last Rover-Honda co-car. As with the 600, author Steve Cropley explained, it was basically a Honda with Richard Woolley-designed Rover clothes. Doors were common (what IS it with BL cars and shared doors?) but all the other panels were different.

It was 6 inches shorter than the Vauxhall Cavalier class of cars Rover intended to pitch it against. A lot smaller, in other words.

Why the apparent naively in stealing such a large slice of Ford Mondeo sector sales, then? Well, because it was 4 inches longer than the old Rover 400 – and as that car had proven surprisingly successful in the large family car market, so Rover’s plans may not have been so misguided after all.

HONDA CONSTRUCTION

It was launched with 1.4-litre and the then-new 1.6-litre version of the K-series engine. Rover was reluctant to give a date to Cropley for the launch of the 1.8-litre version, “although they admit proving work has begun”. Was it proving, even back then, that the head gasket was weak?

The build of the bodies was of interest: they were all built by Honda’s plant in Swindon. The Rover creation happened at Longbridge; conversely, it turned into a Honda Civic at Swindon.

The all-steel body was an impressive 20 percent stiffer than its predecessor, which Rover said allowed it to optimise NVH. It also allowed it to improve the ride quality over even the Honda it was derived from. Rover recalibrated the dampers, too – so successfully that Autocar was told it set “a new comfort standard for Rover cars”. Rover benchmarked it against the ‘supple’ Peugeot 306, apparently, rather than ‘stiffer’ German hatchbacks.

The Longbridge firm fitted more wood and its own-brand seats inside: these were actually new-look versions of those in the old Rover 200/400. The steering wheel was also carried over from before. Good ol’ British enterprise.

BULLISH

Rover was bullish: Cropley was told Longbridge had been equipped to build more than 200,000 of them a year. Double the number of old Rover 400s: the usual eye-watering BL trick of sales optimism had clearly returned.

Even so, Cropley reckoned the design, manufacturer and quality control showed the “lifesaving” influences of Honda: significant traits he’d noticed, given the foibles of British cars of the past. Rover qualities were, he reckoned, the shape, the engines and the suspension refinement, proving “Rover had accumulated expertise of its own”.

Sage words: Rover engineers continued to prove this in future years, too – but Cropley had picked up on a key point. With the loss of Honda, after 16 years, Rover lost a partner to design and productionise all-new cars.

Cropley actually revealed the downfall of Rover, years before it actually happened. It may well have boasted ample expertise of its own, which the wonderful Rover 75 proved to aplomb. But, with the loss of BMW, Rover lost the ‘lifesaving’ influences in design, manufacture and quality control that would provide the raw materials the skilled engineers could work from.

The final irony is the fact this same Rover 400 was still on sale a decade later, as the Rover 45, in the company’s dying days. Being orphaned meant Rover simply couldn’t replace it. Mediocre it may well have been, but the Rover 400 was also a landmark car – the last all-new volume family Rover be launched (the 75 was a sector above and not a volume car to the same extent; the Rover 35/55? They, alas, were never to arrive…).

It wasn’t rotten, but it wasn’t good enough, even when new. See why I think it’s a rotter?

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ROVER’S unveiling of the 200 made for a fascinating news report by Julian Rendell back in ’95.

He was reporting from the London Motor Show, at which he spoke to the car’s designer, David Saddington. There, the Rover man explained the internal soul-searching that had been preoccupying all at Longbridge for months.

Apparently, it was a question of grille or no grille. They tried all sorts, eventually setting on a body-colour version of the chrome grille. This would appeal to the younger buyers Rover was targeting – while remaining ‘recognisably Rover’.

‘We’re stretching the perceptions of Roverness so the grille is very important to establish the Rover credentials.’

Younger buyers? Apparently, then-boss John Towers wanted 20s and 30s, rather than 40, 50 and 60 year olds. People like me, then: had I been older, I’d have been receptive to this ‘significant message in a new era of Rover products’.

People such as me are the reason why Rover fitted extra-long seat runners: boosting it for those up front, and sacrificing rear space. Mind you, a properly shorter wheelbase than the 306 Rendell compared it with was also a factor here. Also led to a small boot.

As we know, the R3 project cost £200 million, through using bits from the parts bin, and making sure 3dr and 5dr use lots of common bits: front end, roof, rear hatch and glass are the same for both. Only the side pressings and doors are different.

Rendell also pointed out the front bulkhead forwards was the same as the R8; new press tools built an all-new floorpan.

Suspension, he explained, was modified 200 struts at the front, and a H-frame rear torsion beam we now know is from the Maestro. Despite grannies driving that, the firm tuned it for handling: project chief Bill Owen told Rendell it ‘just turns in and grips.’

Neutral rear steer tuning for the rear combined with ride comfort ’very similar’ to the 400 over smaller bumps. Over bigger bumps, it was just behind. Roll bars make an interesting comparison, tool

•    Standard: 19mm f, 16mm r
•    Diesel: 23mm f, 16mm r
•    Vi: 25mm f, 18mm r

Why the big jump for diesels? To counter the extra weight of the engine: unlike the all-alloy K Series, the then-new L-series was decidedly ferrous. Diesels came in 86hp or 105hp: electronic control for the injection system gave the more powerful one its boost.

More tech: the 1.6-litre got a CVT, from Belgians VCST – the same chaps who made it for the Metro CVT. Impressive example of scaling-up here: indeed, it would also later appear on the 1.8-litre MGF Steptronic.

Overall, Rendell was most impressed with the 200. Should see queues forming outside dealers, he reckoned. See: even as late as ’95, Rover could still do it.

A decade later, alas, it would be no more.

Land Rover’s ride quality secret

Ride on time

Rover rides with NASA

So, as you know, I’ve been looking back at old road tests in Autocar. The Mayfair one was revealing. While the 1997 Cooper one properly got me going.

I asked the question, wonder if the Mayfair’s still on the road? Tom Rowan answered it – probably not. He did a canny registration search, and discovered the potentially bad news.

Well then, I thought… if it worked for that, why shouldn’t it also work for P 752 KWK, the 1997 Rover press fleet car?

To the DVLA link I duly went. Whence, I got back some very interesting news.

The car still exists.

But it’s currently declared SORN.

Why? What’s it doing? Where’s it living? Has it been crash-damaged, and is currently being repaired? Is it a restoration project? Has the owner discovered its famed provenance, and is keeping it safely stored in a lockup somewhere?

I don’t know! But I would love to… see, if this is a car in ill health, that the owner wants to move on for minimal bucks, I’d definitely be interested. Hey – owning an ex-press car… what a thrill!

It could even be the same car my boss Peter Burgess had down here on loan all those years ago. It could be the same test car my mates at Autocar thrashed around the track. Providing me with the delights to pour over a few weeks later.

It’d be nice to find out. Anyone out there recognise it, and can help? If so, let me know.

Because, staring at the images, a metallic orange Rover Cooper on 13”s would do the job quite nicely, I think…

Can you help me buy a Mini in 2009?

Mini search over already? If I’m lucky

What can I expect from a Mini?

OK, I’ve been ploughing the Autocar library again, seeking out tests from back in the day. 22 January 1997 doesn’t sound *too* far back in the day, even though it is, actually, 12 years ago. Gawd, etc.

Anyway, Autocar Road Test no. 4228 is of the Rover Mini Cooper, by now with airbag, seatbelt pretensioners and side impact bars.

The radiator’s on the side, damping pads are fitted in the roof, there’s an extra exhaust silencer, and the final drive is longer. All helping the 1275cc meet the 74dB noise limit.

Fear not, says Autocar. It’s still a Mini, and thus, unlike any other car on sale. Encouragingly, the 63bhp A-Series is now ‘evergreen’, taking nearly 10secs off the Mayfair’s 0-60mph time. It’s still unrefined, though.

The ride also remains bouncy – ‘burying drivers’ heads in the roof’. The key is finding a smooth corner. There, says Autocar, four-wheel drifts are the norm. Intimate, if crude, feel through the steering helping you achieve ‘perplexingly high speeds’.

Needless to say, the interior is as dated as ever (despite a two-speed fan!). It’s very cramped, doors are tiny, and tall people simply have to bend their knees. Buttons on the dash are unlit (I didn’t realise that) and the boot is highly awkward.

Once again, Autocar’s objective terms write the Mini off as from another era. But, of course, it is! That’s why it’s so great! And thus,  ‘as an object of basic desire, it’s still up there with the best of them.’

Couldn’t have put it better myself…

I have yet to drive a Mini, but am getting more eager by the day. Until I snare one, I’m having to get my fix from virtual sources.

Hence, me turning to Autocar, 23 August, 1989.

Here, the magazine subjected a 998cc Mayfair to the rigors of its full road test, as a celebration of 30 years’ production.

What did Autocar make of it? Well, I took from it the following impressions:

•    Engine
It’s slow. The Mini is substantially slower than the original 1959 test car, says Autocar. Sure, it weighs 10 percent more, but the engine’s also bigger. 0-60mph in 22 seconds sounds slow to me, a top speed of 78mph below my everyday cruising speed.

It’s also, says Autocar, slower in the gears. This is because the gearing has been raised over the original, by 20 percent. At least that means you don’t have to rev it; there’s a ‘cacophony’ near the 5750rpm redline. But, it lugs smoothly through the rev range and, says Autocar, isn’t as unrefined as has been made out. Unlike the gearbox, which whines, is obstructive and agricultural.

•    Driving impressions
Autocar loves how the Mini handled. By modern standards, the turn in is almost too sharp; the communicative steering means you place it inch-perfect every time. It’s also throttle-adjustable.

The ride isn’t as bad as feared. It’s nervous in town, with the short-travel suspension easily caught out. But it’s very stable on motorways, dealing with low-frequency undulations well.

•    Interior
The car is dated from behind the wheel, with switches out of reach. Visibility is fantastic, but the driving position has ‘serious problems’. Space is ‘inadequate’, noise levels high and the seats, while not uncomfortable, are lacking in lumbar and lateral support.

Even Mayfair trim is sparsely equipped. However, it feels sturdy and strong, with the doors shutting cleanly and solidly. The paintwork would be favourable on a car costing twice as much. Alas, minor items are shabbily assembled, and the keys are difficult to put in the locks.

•    Summary

It is slow, unrefined, cramped, and modern superminis are in a different league. Doesn’t matter. It’s still easy to make a case for the Mini, concludes Autocar. It’s great fun to drive, and stands out in a world where cars look ever-more anonymous.

All that criticism’s to be expected. All that we can take. We buy Minis not for rational reasons, but emotional ones. Autocar’s modern-perspective take has only served to reinforce that… now then, does anyone know if F 21 RKV, the reg of the test car, is still out there?

… I saw a heavily cloaked test car a few weeks ago on the M42. Looked like a Jaguar, beneath the disguise. It was – the new XJ, which Hilton says will be unveiled in June.

It was going to be a reskin of the current model, but is much more than that. Jaguar’s taken the lessons from the XF – a rehashed S-Type – and applied them here, for an extensive overhaul using the same air-suspension wheelbase.

Styling will wow. Jaguar designer Adam Hatton stressed as much over a beer late last year, at a function in the Cotswolds… and I believe the Malvern-dwelling dude (who rates the Citroen C4, but doesn’t like the new MINI).

There’s even going to be an all-glass panoramic roof.

Jag’s 3.0-litre V6 diesel will feature: this is so powerful and eco, it makes the V8 diesel redundant. Range Rover only for that, then? Seems an expensive way of doing things.

… VW’s said it’s planning a Bluesport range of green performance cars. Like Bluemotion, but faster. Raking in more profits, then.

… Mercedes will sell a diesel version of the next SLK, due in two years. As it’s based on the fine current C-Class platform, expect the brilliant C 250 CDI engine to feature.

… Sweden is not to ban petrol and diesel in 2020. It will ban them in 2030 instead. So that’s why Saab and Volvo are so big on biofuels…

… Top VW product man Ulrich Hackenberg says customers are prepared to pay more for Bluemotion ‘green’ cars. That’s because they’re 5-10mpg more economical. Win-win for VW, then. It gets more cash for each car, which customers are happy to buy in decent numbers.

With such a business model, why would it thus apply the Bluemotion changes to all models, cutting such a profitable revenue stream?

VW’s rivals may snipe and say that ‘all our cars are green, not stand-out green specials’ – but they ‘aint getting the profits of VW. That’s why Bluemotion’s here to stay.

Hackenberg also says customers are understand that they must look at engine technology, not size, to gauge performance. Good news for the downsizing trend.

… Next year, MINI will start selling patterned soft-top Convertibles. Not easy to productionise down at Oxford, but extremely lucrative, I’d have thought.

… Renault reveals the Megane Renaultsport 250’s carryover platform has been re-engineered to take a short-shift 6-speed gearbox. Why go to the trouble? Unless there are future transmission developments we’re not aware of…

… The Golf R32 will lose its heavy V6 for a more eco four-pot turbo. Probably the TTS’s 268bhp unit. It’s for handling as well as emissions, says VW.

… the origins of the TTRS’s five-pot turbo are revealed. It’s actually a tuned-up version of an engine seen in the US-spec VW Jetta. Not, as Audi claims, half a Lamborghini V10. Ahem.