Weekly Motor Fix: the daily driven 1992 Peugeot 405 Mi16

16 March, 2016

If I said “’80s hot hatch”, I’d suggest invariably that the Peugeot 205 GTI would pop into your head.  If I then said “fast ’80s sedan”, I very much doubt that the Peugeot 405 Mi16 would register in the first hour. But it should, if only for the name. While the boxy lines of the 405 now more closely resemble that of a Russian tank, the Mi16 was actually a very good car. 

With a 7200rpm redline, 1.9-litre motor (apparently costing upwards of £3000 per unit at the time of manufacture), the Mi16 puts out 165hp and sprints along to 100kph in just over eight seconds. While these numbers are not going to impress modern-day high-performance sedan owners, the 405 still drives well. Once you get some momentum up, it even feels a bit like a proper sports car. The Mi16’s party piece was its stiffened chassis and independent suspension making for excellent handling.

This particular example in ‘Bordello Red’ (it’s not actually called Bordello Red) belongs to the writer of this very article you’re reading. 

I have had some previous experience with quick, relatively unknown Peugeots, as one of my first cars was a 309 GTI — the 205 GTI’s less-popular brother. Unfortunately, the 309 decided it had an itchy back whilst on a spirited drive through the Waitakere Ranges late at night. Luckily, the only injury sustained was a minor one to my neck when I forgot that the car was upside down and took off my seatbelt without bracing against the roof. It took me around 15 years to take a bold step back into Peugeot ownership following that event. 

I bought the 405 with the intention of turning her into a 2K Cup car (by turning up at the event with a tank of petrol on board). In the meantime I just enjoy looking at what is essentially a competitor to the E30 M3 sitting in my driveway for less than $2000.

Lunch with … Cary Taylor

Many years ago — in June 1995 to be more precise — I was being wowed with yet another terrific tale from Geoff Manning who had worked spanners on all types of racing cars. We were chatting at Bruce McLaren Intermediate school on the 25th anniversary of the death of the extraordinary Kiwi for whom the school was named. Geoff, who had been part of Ford’s Le Mans programme in the ’60s, and also Graham Hill’s chief mechanic — clearly realising that he had me in the palm of his hand — offered a piece of advice that I’ve never forgotten: “If you want the really good stories, talk to the mechanics.”
Without doubt the top mechanics, those involved in the highest echelons of motor racing, have stories galore — after all, they had relationships with their drivers so intimate that, to quote Geoff all those years ago, “Mechanics know what really happened.”

ROTARY CHIC

Kerry Bowman readily describes himself as a dyed-in-the-wool Citroën fan and a keen Citroën Car Club member. His Auckland home holds some of the chic French cars and many parts. He has also owned a number of examples of the marque as daily drivers, but he now drives a Birotor GS. They are rare, even in France, and this is a car which was not supposed to see the light of day outside France’s borders, yet somehow this one escaped the buyback to be one of the few survivors out in the world.
It’s a special car Kerry first saw while overseas in the ’70s, indulging an interest sparked early on by his father’s keenness for Citroëns back home in Tauranga. He was keen to see one ‘in the flesh’.
“I got interested in this Birotor when I bought a GS in Paris in 1972. I got in contact with Citroën Cars in Slough, and they got me an invitation to the Earls Court Motor Show where they had the first Birotor prototype on display. I said to a guy on the stand, ‘I’d like one of these,’ and he said I wouldn’t be allowed to get one. Citroën were building them for their own market to test them, and they were only left-hand drive.”