By Dean Sprague

It was late summer of 1967 during my college days in Miami Florida.  I had purchased a white 1963 Triumph TR4 several months earlier.  See the photo of a virtually identical car except for the license plate.  The car was not my first choice primarily because of the color was white.  I had solicited help from my grandfather to help find the perfect car.  We visited a local BMC dealership in South Miami.  They had the MG, Austin Healey and Triumph franchises.  I was looking for a good used Triumph.  I found a beautiful power blue 1963 Triumph TR3b.  Unfortunately, this car didn’t meet my grandfather’s minimum standards.  He said, “This is one very pretty, very tired Triumph that will give you more pain than pleasure”.  Then he steered me toward this TR4 parked near it. He told me, “Never buy by color always buy by condition”.  Of course if left to my own devices I would have put myself behind the wheel of that TR3b; youthful exuberance.  Obviously he was right the TR4 was a one owner with only 30 thousand miles on the clock.  It was in great condition, it also had overdrive, an AM/FM 8-track plus new tires.  Since my grandmother was loaning me $600 that was the cash difference between my trade, an unreliable Sunbeam Alpine and my meager savings my grandfather’s approval was a condition of the loan.  Therefore, I became the proud owner of a white 1963 TR4.

I spent most of the summer working two jobs so I could pay my grandmother back before I did anything fun.  Fun included a trip to the 1967 World’s Fair in Montréal, Canada.  I already had my regular part time job as a stockman in a grocery store and I got another temp job at a filling station pumping gas (remember when they did that?) and doing service work to make all this happen.  The plan was to jam everything in before university resumed in the fall.  I even moved back home so I could save every penny and some how I did it.  My grandmother was amazed when I paid her back.

My future first wife then girlfriend had gone to Seaside, New Jersey with a friend during her summer break to work at her Uncle’s theme restaurant on the beach.  They drove her 1962 TR3a.  I remember spending about a week working on it so it would be strong enough to make the trip up, serve as transportation while there and get them home again.  Somehow I convinced her to terminate her employment two weeks early and go with me to the World’s Fair.

Since my debt obligations were resolved I immediately quit my temp job and took a holiday from my stockman job and left the very next morning for Seaside, NJ.  I drove straight through stopping only for fuel, food and tolls.  It was so hot on the way up I had to put the top up and roll the windows down.  All went well until I stopped at a tollbooth on the New Jersey Turnpike and suddenly realized that my tuned Abarth exhaust, which only included the rear muffler, was so loud it left me with a ringing in my left ear so loud I could barely hear.  This was my only issue though the TR4 ran great.  The car appeared to be as strong as my grandfather promised.  Of course my gas station job gave me the opportunity to “over” service the car, which probably didn’t hurt.

 When I arrived my girlfriend was already packed and ready to go so we quickly got something to eat, loaded the Triumph and without rest we hit the road.  Oh to be that young again.  I did sneak a nap or two when she drove however.

We rolled into central Maine the next afternoon.  We stayed with my Aunt and Uncle in Belfast (my home town) so we could visit, rest a day or two and then go on to the fair.  Our strategy was to camp while in Canada to save money.  When my cousin Brian (their 15 year old son) heard what we were planning to do he desperately wanted to go with us.  My Aunt was not pleased about this and felt he was too young to be supervised by college students.  I’m still not sure how we convinced her but I think my Uncle was very influential. 

It was an interesting picture.  The trunk (boot) and the luggage rack were fully loaded with camping gear and bags.  Brian had to sit in the limited space behind the seats.  He referred to this as his “jumper” seat.  Unfortunately, he only really fit when the top was removed with his feet sticking out one side and his head on the other.  He used our pillows for cushions.  The good news, it was a sunny all the way into Canada.  We quickly found our campground, which was near the World’s Fair and set up the tent and planned our week.

We arrived at the Fair the very next morning.  It was called Expo 67 and consisted of a general exhibition with 90 pavilions from 62 Nations around the world.  I’ve included a photo of the US Pavilion.  Brian had never been outside the State of Maine so he was astonished by everything there (actually so were we).  We spent a very busy week seeing it all.

One issue did surface however.  It seems Brian had never eaten some of the unique and interesting foods found in this forum.  He developed gastric issues that lasted for most of our visit.  In fact Brian became a source of humor carrying a roll of toilet paper everywhere we went.  He said he couldn’t risk being without it and who was I to argue?

All went well until we headed back to Maine.  I noticed when I shifted into #4 the tachometer rose faster than the speedometer especially at speeds above 70 mph.  The clutch was slipping.  Also while not critical, the overdrive started engaging very slowly.  We made it back to Maine OK but the clutch was getting worse.  My uncle looked at it and we decided there was oil on the driven plate.  He suggested I push it against a tree and let the clutch slip until the oil burned off so I tried it.   Smoke came rolling out of the engine bay but when it cooled the clutch improved noticeably so we packed, said our goodbyes and headed for home.

My mother called from Miami just as we were leaving to remind us that we were supposed to register for fall semester in 2 days.  That meant we have to drive straight thru from Maine to Miami.  We did it in 36 hours!  We took turns driving and stopped only when refueling.  All went well until around Georgia when the clutch began its slipping thing again.  Triumphs are tough though and we still averaged over 60 mph as we rolled into South Miami.  Just in time to register.

A week or so later I pulled the transmission, replaced the seals, had the flywheel resurfaced, the over drive rebuilt and changed the clutch. That fixed almost everything except the color.  I decided it was too much work to repaint it so I continued to drive it and look for the next “best deal of a lifetime” and before you knew it along came another British car…