1967 MK 1 Morris Mini Cooper S Type R - Driving Impression

It would be easy to conclude that Colin Baines isn't quite right. The security engineer has owned 69 Minis in 27 years and his current collection includes a six-wheeler, two saloons and a pair of pickups. He originally built the six-wheeler 20 years ago in his mother's garage, only to find that it was too wide for the driveway.

"I just waited until she went away and then I hired a builder's disc cutter," he explains. "I cut into the brick work to get the car out, but it turned out to be a supporting wall. It was at the end of a terrace and the whole street had to be evacuated. My mother said it was me or the Mini and gave me a week to make up my mind. So I moved across the street."

The six-wheeler still sits in his back garden, but Baines has become preoccupied with another new toy. Sitting in his driveway is a 1967 Morris Cooper S replica. The old English white exterior, original roof rack and "Italian Job" leather bonnet straps have all been faithfully recreated, and a nodding dog sits quietly in the rear window.

The car would be thoroughly unremarkable were it not for a 90mm extension to the front wings and bonnet. Engineered by the UK-based Mini specialists, Watson's, this extension was necessary to accommodate a B-series Honda Integra Type-R engine and gearbox. Boasting 1800cc and 200 bhp, this is one of the quickest Minis ever produced.

"I guess it's a mid-life crisis car," reckons Baines. "I originally thought of buying a motorbike, but most of my biking friends reckoned I'd be dead within a month. So I decided to build the Mini." The basic shell was plundered from a 1985 Mini automatic, which Baines bought for just 30 ($54), but the engine proved trickier to find. "Eventually, I found one in a broker's yard. The car had caught fire and some of the engine had melted, so they let me have it for 1,763 ($3,157)."

The engine and donor car were taken to Watson's garage and subjected to a six-week makeover. After stripping the donor vehicle, Geoff Watson welded the front wing and bonnet extensions and introduced a new front subframe. The engineers were then faced with stuffing an 1800cc engine, five-speed gearbox and radiator into a space normally filled by a humble 1.3. To describe the installation as tight would be an understatement.

Having shoehorned in the engine, Watson set to work on the structure. Old Minis have all the crash worthiness of a paper bag, so Baines insisted on the introduction of a six-point FIA roll cage, which also does wonders for the car's rigidity. Accommodating the roll cage meant ripping out the rear seats and the Mini's once fabled practicality was further compromised by the introduction of a second fuel tank in the tiny boot. Other components, such as the brakes and steering rack, were plundered from a plethora of old Rovers.

The conversion work, which is a triumph of improvisation, cost Baines 6,500 ($11,639). Add on the engine, the donor car and the other paraphernalia and the overall cost of the car rises to around 12,000 ($21,487), which is roughly the same as a UK-spec Ford Focus. That's not bad for a 200-bhp car that's capable of 0-to-60 mph in a Porsche-baiting 4.8 seconds.

The absence of a rear bench means you sit further back in the Type-R Mini than you would in an original. The seats were borrowed from a Civic Type-R, but Baines is planning to swap these for more traditional Cooper S chairs. He's anxious to make the car look as authentic as possible and this passion extends to the bespoke Magnolia instruments-redlined at 10,000 rpm-and the quaint Mk 1 S door panels.

The only sops to modern technology are a pair of four-point racing harnesses and a Super Snooper alert system, which provides advance warning of the speeding cameras that pollute the UK's highways. Baines hasn't bothered with an ICE system, relying instead on the aural entertainment provided by the Honda engine. And it's certainly loud. While the current Civic Type-R makes a token gesture toward sound insulation, the Baines Mini amplifies the four-pot's music with a Super Sprint exhaust system.

Grasp the Motalita Cooper wheel-angled more to the vertical than the Mini norm-and slot second gear. The Watson conversion retained the Integra's gear ratios, but the switch to 13-inch rims has left the Mini horribly undergeared. Baines accepts that first gear is suitable only for burnouts, but he's planning to change the final-drive ratio to affect a solution. As things stand, it's possible to pull away in fifth gear and accelerate all the way to 138 mph.

Baines registered his 0-to-60-mph sprint time at a dragstrip, and initial impressions support his claims. The Mini has yet to be weighed, but even with the introduction of a 81-pound roll cage, it shouldn't tip the scales at more than 1,870 pounds. A power-to-weight ratio of 235 bhp/metric ton places it comfortably in the supercar league.

In a straight line, the 175/50 Yokos do a remarkably good job of transferring this power to the road. The Mini sprints from 40-to-100 mph with an alacrity that catches other road users by surprise.

"I had a race with an Impreza Turbo the other day," says Baines nonchalantly. "He was trying so hard to keep up that he ended up spinning at a roundabout. I also have a lot of fun with the Aston test cars that emerge from the workshop near my home. It annoys the hell out of them when I out-accelerate a 600-bhp, 2-ton Aston in a 12K Mini."

But while his car has plenty of thrust, it proves less adept at stopping. The tiny wheels necessitate tiny discs and the rear makes do with drums. Pedal feel is noticeable only by its absence, and so high-speed stops require plenty of forward planning and ice-cool nerves. Baines is hoping that a change to the front brake pads will improve their performance.

Given that the steering rack, front and rear suspension systems are all bespoke, it's impressive to note that the kart-like steering feel of the original Mini has been retained. It still reacts like a startled hare to the merest twitch of the steering wheel.

Less impressive is the effect of the conversion on the handling. Much of the compliance that made the original Mini such a hoot to drive hard has been lost, to the extent that the Type-R becomes a real handful on a bumpy backroad. And the problem is exacerbated by the armfuls of torque steer that greet the application of power midcorner. Such foibles are to be expected in such a bizarre hybrid, but you suspect a talented chassis engineer could retune the springs and dampers to improve the driving experience.

The Type-R-engined Mini is an eccentric concept that became an eccentric car. It might not be the last word in dynamic sophistication, but it's huge fun and the impact of its performance is enhanced by the subtle aesthetics. As we draw to a stop, Baines insists on opening the bonnet one more time to show me a tiny gap in the engine bay.

"That's where the supercharger's going to go," he explains with a grin. "I'm hoping to install it this summer." Crazy car. Crazier guy.

InteriorHonda Civic Type-R front seats, Safety Devices six-point FIA cage and door bars, 130-mph Magnolia clocks and 10,000-rpm tach, Newton period Mk 3 grey Cooper S trim, Sabelt four-point harness, Motalita Cooper steering wheel, Mk 1 heater, no rear seats, Super Snoopoer SR6 Neo Safety Alert System, nodding dog