radical #2: Driving experience Volvo 142

Mindfulness

And then you are amazed at how well it goes. Volvo’s B20 engine is not exactly famous for its revving ability, and 90 hp doesn’t seem particularly wild for a vehicle that weighs 1.2 tons. You shift gears using a stick that feels about a metre long, but that works well too. We have experienced much stickier gearboxes in newer vehicles. And so we drive quite fast along the country road. The inclination in the curves is steep, the tyres whistle – it is a truly beautiful driving pleasure at a speed at which the race organisers do not yet wave the flag. Well, our 1971 Volvo 142 does start to pant a bit on hills, and tight bends are not necessarily its thing either. But the driver keeps smiling, he is in control, needs strength at the steering wheel, shifts gears much more often than in a modern torque monster, brakes much earlier, because it decelerates quite differently than a current model. It’s all still very analogue – like the Swede’s instruments. And because it is, everything is a bit sluggish or not even there (lane departure warning, all the beeping, etc.), it is a very peaceful experience of classic driving pleasure.

You wouldn’t really expect it of the Volvo, but its career began in dramatic fashion. It was supposed to have its world premiere on 17 August, a big event taking place simultaneously in Gothenburg, Oslo, Copenhagen and Helsinki. However, while three crates, each containing a Volvo 144, were being hoisted into the event venue in Gothenburg under the greatest secrecy two days before the event, the Swedish police learned that two police officers who had been shot dead were quietly watching a film in a cinema next door. The area was sealed off, the cinema was evacuated – and the secret of the vehicle, which the press had been speculating about for years, was revealed. During the long years of its development, journalists had even given the new Volvo a nickname, Mazou.

As early as June 1960, the Volvo management under Gunnar Engellau had approved an initial set of specifications for the vehicle with the internal code P660. The fact that development took so long is somewhat surprising given that the new model series came onto the market with the same wheelbase and the same engine as the Volvo P120, the Amazon. But the Swedes wanted to get closer to the premium segment (which didn’t even exist at the time), so they placed particular emphasis on quality and safety – and also built two new plants, one in Torslanda, Sweden, and one in Ghent, Belgium. And there were also new type designations: the 1 for the model series, the 4 for the number of cylinders – and the last digit for the number of doors. This also makes it clear that the 142 is the two-door model (from spring 1967), the 144 is the four-door model (from 19 August 1966), and the 145 is the station wagon (from model year 1968); from 1969 there was also the 145 Express with a raised roofline.

The unmistakable design was the work of Jan Wilsgaard, which was to be expected from a Volvo. Compared to the Amazon, it was a quantum leap: what had been round became angular, what had been baroque became Bauhaus. In the 1960s, automotive design had also come to the realisation that form should follow function. Never before had a car been designed so clearly according to the 3-box system; it almost felt as if the rear and front could be exchanged. Wilsgaard gave the P660 such a clear line that it is still one of Volvo’s design features today; what was new (or at least different) was the generous use of glass, which was very generous for the time. And an interior with significantly more space than the P120, despite having the same wheelbase. However, the cool Swedes did not show particular creativity or even a commitment to ‘Beautiful Living’ in the interior design. The dashboard was padded with plastic not for aesthetic reasons, but to improve safety.

In any case: ‘safety first’. The body and platform of the Volvo 140 were exceptionally torsionally rigid for the time, and the passenger compartment featured calculated crumple zones and an integrated roll cage for the first time. The steering column had a new type of predetermined breaking point, the door locks were accident-proof and the three-point seat belts were also standard at the rear (later even: headrests at the rear too). Other new features included the dual-circuit braking system for the disc brakes (front and rear) and two reducing valves that prevented the rear wheels from locking during emergency braking. Although there wasn’t much need to brake in the beginning. The Volvo 140s were the first to receive the B18 engines from the P120, with 75 hp in the standard version and 100 hp with the double carburettor. From the 1969 model year onwards, the new B20 engines were used, with the base version offering 82 hp. The most powerful models were the 142 GTs introduced in 1971, which had a remarkable 124 hp with fuel injection. And then there was also the 164 with its B30 inline six-cylinder engine with 3 litres of displacement and 145 hp. But that’s another story, it also had a longer wheelbase. In this context, the topic of factory tuning would also be interesting: Volvo sold some very interesting kits under the ‘R-Sport’ label, the sharpest of which was called ‘Stage IV’ and, by increasing the displacement to 2.2 litres, boosted power to 190 hp at 6500 rpm and 229 Nm of maximum torque at 4700 rpm.

In 1974, the 140 was replaced by the 240, which was actually the same car in a different colour. A total of 1,251,371 units of the 140 series were sold in eight years, making it the most popular Volvo to date. And it contributed a great deal to the brand’s good reputation, including internationally – in Germany, for example, six times as many Volvos were sold in 1973 as in 1967. Today, however, they are rarely seen; many had to give up their drive to the much more sought-after P120, and rust ate into them – much more on the Belgian vehicles than on the Swedish ones. Our test subject, a ‘de Luxe’ from 1971, does not have this problem. It looks very clean and not at all as if it is over 50 years old. The vehicle was provided to us by Oldtimer Galerie in Toffen.

And then: total energy balance. This is an important issue for Volvo. They try to keep it under control well down the supply chain, which is not that easy. But the Swedes are much more aware of the potential problems than other manufacturers, they want to know everything exactly. Where others deliberately look away, they look very closely. But that has tradition in Sweden: A Volvo was never just a commodity – it should be built to last forever. Because in the past, you could perhaps afford a new car every 15 or 20 years. And the grandchildren should still be able to have their experiences with the used car.

Even if the manufacturers don’t like reading that today, because they make their money from new car sales, every single car that is not built new is an important contribution to the conservation of resources. So if you take care of your old Volvo, you are doing your part for sustainability. And because the earlier Volvo models are so stable, they cause far fewer problems than vehicles from other manufacturers, even in old age, are easy to repair and remain very, very cool for decades, it is precisely with such vehicles that care is required. And in the end, it benefits the manufacturer, in this case Volvo, again: every classic on the road is an image boost. The potential new customer may feel that she is buying a car that will last for the next few decades.

And let’s not forget: a vintage model like this simply has style. A classic Volvo is always a good choice for men and women. It’s sophisticated understatement.

You can find more Volvo in our archive. This is a story from the Volvo supplement of our print edition radical #2. You can find the table of contents here.