Bramble Motors - The Company From t'North

Bramble Motors (often shortened to simply Bramble) is a car company located close to the Yorkshire town of Middlesbrough.
Established in 1947 by Robert ‘Bob’ Chamberlain, a demobilised member of the British Army’s Royal Engineers, with assistance from childhood friend Samuel ‘Sparks’ Moore, Bramble Motors has built up a reputation for the unusual, and their reliance on steel has propped the local economy up considerably.

This is an example of their work - the 1977 Bramble Peak in it’s ‘sporty’ Scarfell trim. Using a 1.7 litre transverse I4 powering the front wheels, known by its purring idling sound as the kitten, the Peak Scarfell had an unusual futuristic design, and still looked modern into the mid '80s.

With a light body and high revving engine producing 99hp, the Scarfell was a surprisingly nippy vehicle, and it quickly found a home among both boy racers (if they could afford the £6800 asking price) and legitimate racers, although it quickly lost popularity with the latter due to the more powerful, if slightly heavier, Talbolt Sunbeam.

The Peak Scarfell was incredibly successful regardless, but had one drawback from it’s light weight - it was horrifically unsafe. While it had all the standard safety equipment for the '70s, a small body and a tendancy to oversteer it’s short wheelbase meant it only just got accepted into sale into Europe and the USA. Despite this (or perhaps because of it), the car is regarded as a classic in it’s time, and regularly gets compared to other hot hatches of the era, despite it’s lack of fuel injection, using a carburettor until the end of it’s production in 1983.

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30 years before the Peak, Bramble was launched onto the scene in the bombed-out ruins of Northern England. So the first car to come out of the factory, the one that would go down in the company’s history as it’s genesis, was a small van using a transmission from an old Jeep, and an engine that croaked more than it roared.


What?

(Shown are the two colours available, Barely Black and Bracken Green)

The Pheonix, The ‘Wheels of the North’, The ‘Bread and Butter Car’, the list of names goes on for this dimunutive vehicle. But don’t let apperences fool you, the Pheonix was perfect for Britain. Named after the mythical bird reborn from ashes, Chamberlain and Moore aimed to ride the automotive world’s own rebirth after the ashes of war, giving the public a small, cheap and reliable utility vehicle just when people started to get back to their daily lives.

First, that body. Sticking with simplicity being best, the rear lights were the same size, making a repair job less expensive due to interchangable parts. The ladder chassis enabled the Pheonix to, at various points in it’s life, become a ambulance, fire engine, police van, army command post, and mountain rescue vehicle, along with many others.

Four wheel drive was the Pheonix’s only real peice of technology - the interior was as basic as the outside - and rumor has it, was ‘borrowed’ from the Willy’s Jeep - completely legally of course. This, coupled with the kerb weight of just 632kg, enabled the Pheonix to go places most road cars could only dream of, and with a top speed of 65 mph, it wasn’t exatly slow for the time either.

But the centrepeice of the Pheonix was it’s engine. The Frog Mk 1 - named after it’s idle sounded like a croak from the animal - may have only produced 33hp, but produced a amazing 38ib ft of torque. With a weight of just 106kg, the engine was perfect for the Pheonix, and it’s economy of 22mpg didn’t hurt either.

Overall, the Pheonix was bought in droves, and could be seen wherever there was - or wasn’t - a road. From these beginnings, Bramble Motors was born, but for a few years, they could look on in pride, as the ‘Little Tyke’ soldiered on, easily the most popular off-roader in North England well into the 1950s.

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It’s 1967, and the swinging sixties are in their prime. In the middle of this comes Bramble Motors’ unconventional project, codenamed ‘river’.

This is the Tees Mara, a small two door coupé with a 1.8 litre engine, producing just over 100 hp at 5400 rpm. A front wheel drive setup, with a light fibreglass body, meant the Tees Mara was very agile and could surprise many of the more powerful cars of the era.

However, the Tees Mara had several problems. A front wheel drive setup was good for control, yes, but the camber required for the tyres meant servicing them was a bit more of a chore than it should have been, and while torgue steer was helped by the hydraulic steering, it wasn’t what you’d call…reliable. This, plus the frankly pathetic power figures of the engine, meant the Tees Mara wasn’t as popular as first thought, although it wasn’t bad for Bramble’s first effort into the sports car market.

All that changed when Samuel Moore found out about an event in 1969 commencing the next year called the International Championship for Manufacturers. Suddenly, the Tees found a new lease of life…

The Tees Astar was a completely different prospect to the rather tame Tees Mara. The inline 4 cylinder in the Mara was bored and stroked out to make a 2.4 litre, 165 hp beast, all still going to the front wheels - as you can imagine, the torque steer was ferocious, as this was using 1960s technology to put power down that even early 2000s hot hatches wouldn’t sniff at. To make this more terrifying, the active steering was thrown out to save weight, reducing the kerb weight of the Tees from 755 kg to 725 kg, while a few bonnet holes and a larger grille were needed to cool down the ‘Fab 4’, as the engine came to be known as.


A Tees Astar privately rallying on the Isle of Mann, date unknown

There was no denying that when a Tees Astar arrived at the startline, two things could occur - it would either set lightning quick times, and the driver would end up exhausted from fighting the car, or it would end up retiring as the driver lost his or her battle. As a result, the Tees Astar came to be known as a monster, but would never win a single rally on the international stage, and would end it’s competitive life in 1973, fighting both the competition and it’s driver the whole way.

Luckily (?), the car needed to be homologated, and so 500 Tees Astars were made, selling for the price of £10,600. some ended there life wrapped around a tree (well… more shattered - fibreglass isn’t exactly the least brittle of materials), but those left regularly fetch high values to this day.