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My Dad had an 1850 Maxi, in the favoured soiled nappy beige, it became my first car for a princely £300. It had a gear change like stirring a bucket of stones with a stick. It didn't go wrong until the engine finally seized 3 years later and would carry five riders plus bikes to a race. Fond memories might be pushing it a bit (my next car was an 80 sport quattro), but I almost mourned its death.
Poverty spec in the USA in the 70s equates to millionaire status here.
I remember Austin Maxis - not something I think too much about now!