Ring Rulers

The Little Giant That Redefined the Road

In the 1970s, the world was bracing for change. Compact yet robust, simple yet stylish, the Toyota Starlet emerged like a beacon of innovation. This was not just another car; it was a paradigm shift. It whispered a promise that Japanese automakers were here to stay.

As the first subcompact from Japan to flaunt a high-performance variant, the Starlet married power with practicality. From 1973, it was more than just a car, it was a statement. Designed like a “Baby Celica” and carrying the spirit of the Publica, each curve and contour was meticulously crafted to capture the imagination of drivers worldwide. Its coupé lines were birthed from the sketches of the legendary Giorgetto Giugiaro, proving that even small cars could captivate with beauty.

Here is the part the brochures never told you.

This little giant put performance within reach. The high-performance models offered between 1986 and 1999 defied expectations. The Turbo S, GT Turbo, and Glanza V had heartbeats of their own. Engines that dared to challenge the status quo, culminating in the turbocharged 4E-FTE, a power plant that lifted its humble frame to near legendary status.

Yet, it wasn’t just about the adrenaline. The Starlet was the first in Toyota’s passenger lineup to feature the advanced rack-and-pinion steering and a carefully tuned suspension, ensuring its agile handling could keep up with its sprightly engine options. Whether it was gliding through the curves of the Japanese countryside or carving its niche in European cityscapes, it exemplified the idea that small could be mighty.

But this story took an unexpected turn.

The Starlet wasn’t just a road warrior; it was also a racing hero. It etched its place in motorsport lore by clinching class wins in events like the WRC Acropolis Rally. It was proof that even the smallest contender could rise to greatness. The EP81 made its mark in the Indonesian Touring Car Championship, rallying across the Caribbean, forging a path for driver and machine in disciplines few imagined they could conquer.

Despite its retirement in 1999, the Starlet’s legacy endures. A treasure trove of memories and mechanical mastery that the world still cherishes. The Starlet wasn't just a car. It was an ethos, passed down through generations.

A compact dream. A giant legacy. A car that redefined roads.

The Unsung Engine That Changed the Game

In the world of automotive engineering, true genius often lurks in the background, quietly shaping the future. The early 1970s were a time of transformation for the car industry, and Datsun, with its Cherry model, was at the forefront of this evolution.

A distinctive transmission whine filled the air, leaving an indelible auditory footprint that enthusiasts remember even today. This sound was the hallmark of the Datsun Cherry, a vehicle that captured the spirit and struggles of an era — both in design and in ambition.

With its debut in 1970, the Cherry was Nissan’s first foray into front-wheel drive, a layout that promised better handling and efficiency. Born from Prince Motor Company's pioneering concept and released post-merger with Nissan, it was truly cutting-edge. Its four-wheel independent suspension and the innovative transmission-in-sump layout — inspired by the Mini but modified with separate housing — made it a compact revolutionary in a world dominated by rear-wheel drive giants.

But here is the part the brochures never told you. The Cherry, with its unassuming size and unpretentious design, ignited a British sales surge in the early 70s. Over 30,000 Cherrys found owners in the UK in just a year, representing more than just cars sold; they were paving the way for the Japanese automotive presence that would soon dominate the market.

Market dynamics were shifting. The British loved their Cherrys, and their resilience to replace the model quickly spoke volumes. While other markets swiftly transitioned to newer models, the original Cherry held strong in the UK, a testament to its charm and capability. This compact car was more than a mode of transport; it was a beacon of reliability and innovation during uncertain times.

What elevated the Cherry's status was not just its engineering but the emotional connection it forged with its owners. In a poll by Motor magazine, a remarkable 76 percent of Cherry owners expressed loyalty, the highest recorded at the time. It was a sentiment once reserved for iconic models like the Volkswagen Beetle.

As the years rolled on and frontline models took the spotlight, the Cherry quietly stepped back, its name eventually being retired in Japan. But within the layers of automotive history, it remains a pioneering spirit. The Cherry was not just a car; it was a movement.

"The Underrated Glory Behind a Luxury Sedan"

The whirr of engines, the sheen of polished chrome, and the soft, comfortable ride — Nissan Laurel was more than just a car; it was an experience. Picture yourself in the late 1960s, a time when luxury came packaged in compact forms. The Nissan Laurel emerged as a promise of opulence without pretense, a perfect blend of comfort and performance that carried drivers through decades of innovation.

A symbol of triumph encircled in a laurel wreath, the Laurel was Nissan's response to the craving for elevated driving experiences. Developed by the Nissan Tsurumi team, this sedan took the luxurious essence of the Gloria, added the precision of the Skyline, and carved a unique niche above the Bluebird 510. It was a car that offered a taste of the executive class, without the executive's paycheck.

But here is where the story turns.

Despite its luxurious offering, the Laurel never quite captured the market traction it deserved. Why? The design's ambiguity with the more budget-friendly Bluebird played a role, as did shifting market conditions. Yet, beneath its elegant veneer lay a powerful lineup: the G20-series engine, a harmonious balance of single or twin-carb performance. This wasn't just a car; it was a statement of intent, kept alive by yearly tweaks and loyal fans.

Throughout its life, the Laurel silently carried the heartbeat of Nissan’s innovation. The C130-EV emerged as one of the world’s early electric vehicles, paving the way for future technological leaps. The idea of a luxury sedan turned electric was revolutionary—even president-level. The Laurel was forward-thinking, just like the minds that crafted it.

For enthusiasts, there was a special charm about the 2000GX with its synchronized sequential rear turn signals. A unique feature that echoed its individuality — a nod to style trends of the era, with finesse only true aficionados could appreciate. It was luxurious and sporty, classy yet daring.

The Laurel was more than metal and upholstery; it was the embodiment of an era when driving meant more than just getting from A to B. It was about the journey, the craftsmanship, the nuanced thrill of being behind the wheel. The name Laurel may not be whispered as often in halls of fame, but among those who know — it is revered, cherished, and forever longed for.

A car that sparked imaginations. A journey that deserved more recognition. A legend faded but not forgotten.

The Definition of a Kei Car: Honda's N360 Journey

In a world where compact was king and efficiency reigned supreme, the Honda N360 emerged as a disarmingly simple, yet revolutionary machine. The late 1960s were a time of transformation, and Honda’s leap from motorcycles to cars wasn’t just a bold move—it was the dawn of the kei car era.

With its small stature, the N360 was a breath of fresh air in the automotive world. It stood as a testament to Honda's ambition to create an affordable, reliable vehicle for everyone. Imagine a two-door sedan with a 354 cc engine, air-cooled and derived from motorcycle technology, powering a car that obeyed kei car regulations but dared to be more. It was the people’s car, with a personality all its own.

But here is where the story turns. Amidst the roar of bigger engines and fiercer models, the N360 offered something unique: front-wheel drive and a parallel twin engine design, packaged in a two-box form. This unassuming automobile, born from the passion to innovate, paved the way for the Honda N-One and other homages decades later.

Honda's journey with the N360 wasn't just about creating a car; it was about redefining expectations. The N360’s air-cooled engine was a piece of engineering finesse, reflecting efforts shared with the more robust Honda 1300. It showcased Honda’s ability to marry simple design with high-functioning mechanics. The engine was bold and efficient, delivering 31 PS while keeping vibrations at bay with a CV carburetor setup.

The N360 was also a pioneer in its own right, being one of the first kei cars with an automatic transmission through the N360AT. It was more than a vehicle; it was a canvas for Honda to experiment and innovate.

As the years rolled by, cultural shifts led to the introduction of the water-cooled Honda Life, but the impact of the N360 was indelible. It had opened doors, both figuratively and literally, to a world where anyone could own a piece of the future.

It's not just about the numbers; it's the legacy. A modest 65 mph top speed or the broad market appeal didn't capture the heart of the N360. What did was its pioneering spirit and its ability to touch the lives of ordinary people, to make car ownership accessible.

Decades later, the N360 is honored not only as a vehicle of its time but as a symbol of accessibility and innovation—an icon that deserves to be remembered.

The year was 1972, and the automotive world was about to shift with the introduction of the Honda Civic. It whispered revolution with every turn of its wheels, a testament to Honda's leap from motorcycle grandeur to automotive legend. This compact marvel, with its transverse-mounted engine and minimalist design, sang a new song of efficiency and practicality.

The heart of this little dynamo was a 1,169 cc engine, modest yet mighty, delivering power with a whisper rather than a roar. Here was where the Civic stood distinct — it thrived on simplicity. Its engineering pivoted, just as the oil crisis hit, turning what was efficient into what was essential.

But here is the part the brochures never told you.

The Civic did more than just save fuel; it saved Honda. Against the backdrop of an energy-starved world, this small car with big ambitions became a beacon of reliability and affordability. It didn't just meet emissions standards; it surpassed them with its CVCC engine, offering choices others could not. Unleaded, leaded—it didn't matter. This was freedom on four wheels.

In America, it quietly outmaneuvered giants like the Chevrolet Vega and Ford Pinto, not by brawn, but by brains. When the British market opened its doors, it embraced the Civic’s practicality, a cultural shift amid rising Japanese automotive influence.

Yet, the Civic wasn’t without its scars. Rust marred its early reputation, leading to one of the largest recalls the industry had seen. A lesson in resilience, Honda faced it head-on, honoring commitments to those who placed their trust in this humble machine.

The Civic’s understated brilliance lay in its ability to democratize the road. Its debut was not just the birth of a car but the birth of a movement. A silhouette not easily forgotten, it paved the way for generations to come.

A budget car. A legend in its own right.

A wide-eyed child might have stared at its sleek silhouette in a magazine, dreaming of someday gripping the wheel. In its seventh generation, the Honda Accord transformed from a reliable staple into a European sensation, blending precision engineering with an irresistible touch of luxury.

Here lies the heart of the story.

The Accord, a name synonymous with dependable motoring, underwent a metamorphosis in 2003. Uniting the European and Japanese models was more than a strategic move; it was a bold step into the D-segment battlefield. Europe craved sophistication, and Honda delivered, presenting a vehicle perfectly poised between performance and elegance. With sedans now a testament to aerodynamic design — flaunting a drag coefficient of just 0.26 — this Accord was no ordinary commuter car.

But here is where the story turns.

For the first time, Honda introduced a diesel engine option exclusively in Europe, cementing the Accord's reputation as a well-rounded contender. This wasn’t just about functionality; it was about redefining expectations. And redefining Honda's image, too. The Accord Euro, a moniker adopted for Australia and New Zealand, became a staple of understated luxury, shedding its utilitarian past for a future of plush interiors and advanced technology.

In Australia, this Accord soared to the top of the sales charts, breaking barriers and earning its spot in automotive lore. Meanwhile, Japan embraced the Euro R variant, a high-performance marvel that ignited hearts with its 220 PS engine and agile handling.

Yet, beyond the specs, figures, and trims, it was about something more profound. The Accord captured a feeling — a shift in perception. Standing as a bridge between continents, it seamlessly combined European flair with Japanese innovation, creating a car that didn’t just travel roads, but spanned worlds. A legacy born from fusion, precision, and audacity.

A silhouette that drew dreamers. A car that transcended boundaries. A legend conceived in steel and ambition.

"The People's Car That Set Japan in Motion"

In the late 1950s, ambition took shape in the form of a tiny frame that promised mobility for all. The Subaru 360 wasn't just a car; it was a ticket to freedom for a post-war nation seeking revival on the roads. Born in an age where larger-than-life American machines ruled, the 360 danced to its own tune — light, agile, and unapologetically economical.

Nicknamed the "ladybug," the Subaru 360 emerged as Japan's beloved runabout. Its design was a testament to Japanese ingenuity, crafted with a monocoque structure and rear-mounted 356 cc engine. Despite its modest 16 PS output, which later grew to 25 PS, the 360’s charm wasn’t about speed. It was about making car ownership possible for a country built on tight alleyways and bustling city streets.

Here is the part the brochures never told you. It was more than just steel and wheels; it was a culmination of dreams. Engineers from the former Nakajima Aircraft Company infused it with innovation – a fiberglass roof to save weight and rear-hinged "su***de" doors to stand apart. And as Japan evolved, so did the little Subaru, spawning variants from station wagons to sporty models like the Young SS, which boasted a perky 36 PS, defying its tiny size.

Beyond its technical specifications, the Subaru 360 enlivened communities, weaving itself into the cultural tapestry with every mile it covered. Imported to the United States by Malcolm Bricklin in the late '60s, it faced its own trials, branded by some as "Cheap and Ugly." Yet, it was Malcolm's daring venture that whispered the dream of Japanese automotive prowess across oceans.

The Subaru 360 was more than a car; it was an icon of democratized driving. A vision of accessible mobility that paved the way for future automotive dynamos. A tiny powerhouse. A symbol of rebirth. An enduring legacy.

"The Ingenious Loophole That Made the Subaru BRAT Legendary"

Welded into the heart of the Subaru BRAT lies a story of clever adaptation and audacious automotive design. Born out of necessity and driven by innovation, the BRAT wasn't just another truck; it was a symbol of Subaru's tenacity and inventive spirit. From 1978 to 1994, this quirky coupé utility rolled off the line, etching its unique place in automotive history.

In the late 1970s, Subaru faced a challenge: how to pe*****te the competitive North American market dominated by giants like Toyota and Mazda. The solution? A clever evasion of the notorious "Chicken Tax," a punitive tariff on light trucks. By equipping the BRAT with welded-in rear-facing jump seats in the cargo area, Subaru transformed it into a "passenger car," slashing import tariffs by a staggering amount. It was a daring move—a masterstroke in design and strategy.

Here is the part the brochures never told you. The BRAT was more than just seats and tariffs. It had a robust four-wheel-drive system, initially powered by a 1.6-liter EA-71 engine, evolving later to include a turbocharged version producing 94 horsepower—a rarity among its peers. Its rugged design was influenced by the needs of its diverse markets, spanning continents from Australia to the United Kingdom. The rear jump seats, a makeshift workaround, became a defining feature—a characteristic quirk that enthusiasts remember fondly.

As the 1980s rolled on, the BRAT not only embraced new stylistic cues but also saw a targa top version that further cemented its unique appeal. It was a vehicle designed for export, never intended for Subaru's home market of Japan. And yet, rather humorously, the BRAT became a sought-after import back into Japan, an ironic twist for this export child.

The BRAT's narrative wasn't solely written on roads and in sales figures. It gripped the imagination of popular culture, making an unexpected appearance on the legendary "Top Gear" in 2018, when Freddie Flintoff chose a BRAT for an electric vehicle challenge. It even found a place in desert racing, proving the resilience and versatility of its design.

Despite its discontinuation in 1987 in North America, the BRAT continued to capture hearts overseas until 1994. It laid the groundwork for the Subaru Baja in 2002, an indirect successor that tried to rekindle the same adventurous spirit.

The Subaru BRAT stands, decades later, not just as a product of its time, but as a testament to the brand's ingenuity and fearless approach to car manufacturing. A passenger car. A smugglers' delight. A beloved icon.

"The Car That Put Japan on Europe’s Map"

In the realm of the 1960s automotive scene, few could predict a Japanese marvel would soon captivate the European market. The Isuzu Bellett, a creation of understated brilliance, arrived on the scene in 1963 and swiftly became Japan's proud export. It was more than just a subcompact car; it was a movement, a quiet revolution engineered to surprise and enthrall.

An emblem of ambition and agility, the Bellett was Isuzu's answer to a changing world. With its sleek lines and varied configurations, from sedans to coupes, it offered versatility and elegance. The 1.5L gasoline engine, with options extending to a 1.8L diesel, demonstrated Isuzu's commitment to durability and performance. And when the racing spirit was set ablaze, the GT variants emerged. A standout, the GT-R, became the first Japanese car to wear the "GT" badge, leading a motorsport charge with victories and accolades across circuits.

Here is the thing that should stop you cold.

The GT-R's 1.6L DOHC engine, borrowed from the revered Isuzu 117 Coupé, powered not just machines but aspirations. This formidable racer conquered tracks and hearts, forever immortalizing its black-hooded persona in Japanese automotive lore. With only 1,400 units produced, its rarity only amplifies its mystique. Still today, its echoes can be found roaring in the virtual racetracks of Gran Turismo, capturing imaginations anew.

While it was mechanically innovative, the Bellett also found cultural significance. It was the first Japanese car to be regularly imported to Sweden, Finland, and beyond—casting a spotlight on Japan’s automotive potential. Its presence in rallies, like the 1966 1000 Lakes Rally, where it finished a sensational tenth, revealed its competitive spirit and established Isuzu's global standing.

The Isuzu Bellett was more than metal and mechanics; it was a vessel of dreams, a testament to determination, and a celebration of engineering excellence. A car that was both an export and an ambassador, leaving behind tales of speed, innovation, and triumph.

A giant-killer. A racing icon. A timeless legacy.

"The Kei Car That Captured Hearts and Minds"

In the world of Japanese kei cars, time delivered a marvel—a small, vibrant flash known as the Suzuki Cervo. This wasn't just a vehicle; it was a cultural marker, a symbol of ingenuity wrapped in a tiny, elegant package. Favored by style-conscious drivers, it fused practicality with a dash of the extraordinary.

The Cervo held magic beneath its hood. Released in the late 70s, it defied expectations with a bold move into the sports minicar market. Initially launched with a 539 cc three-cylinder, two-stroke engine, it carried the echoes of its Giugiaro-designed predecessor, the Fronte Coupé. But it wasn’t just about the performance numbers. The Cervo, while no longer a mini GT, found its new identity among city streets, whisking through traffic with grace and flair.

In 1983, Suzuki set hearts aflame with a turbocharged version of the Cervo that boasted 40 PS and a lightweight frame that could dart and weave like no other. The turbo not only injected power but painted a picture of a dream—a bold, zippy ride that stood out in a bustling market.

But here's where the story turns. Despite its vibrant character, the market for kei sports cars was shrinking. Competition intensified from rivals like the Daihatsu Leeza and Mazda Autozam Carol, each vying for a slice of the road. Yet the Cervo persisted as a symbol of Japanese automotive creativity, a piece of history that refused to fade away quietly.

An automotive journalist, LJK Setright, became one of its enthusiastic champions in the UK. Nicknamed the "Whizzkid," the SC100 version appealed to British sensibilities, capturing imaginations and leaving a minor classic status in its wake. The car sold thousands in Britain alone, a testament to its quirky charm.

Though its production ended in 2009, the Cervo continues to hold a cherished spot in automotive lore. From its debut to the day it exited the stage, it served as a heartfelt reminder of an era defined by innovation, style, and a longing for the freedom of the open road. A kei car. A cultural icon. A timeless love affair.