Quick — think of a world class European GT with a rear engine. Now think again. Although the Porsche 911 may come foremost to mind, Alpine, Renault’s sporting division since 1967, had created a legendary rally car with its A110 Berlinette, and the Alpines that followed the A110 were considered worthy peers of the 911. Yet while Porsches still fill the parking lots of racetracks, country clubs, and dentist offices, Alpine retired its line of rear engine sports cars in 1994 after a series of corporate decisions left the brand behind.
Alpine’s introduction of the car that would succeed the A110 couldn’t have been better timed. When the A310 debuted at the Geneva Auto Show in 1971, A110 Alpines had just placed 1-2-3 in the rally of Monte Carlo at a time when the older car had been engineered to its limit, and though still competitive was beginning to look dated. Not so the A310. Strikingly angular, and boasting six Cibie headlamps, the new Alpine both hinted at its rally heritage while it aimed for a more luxury-oriented market, namely Porsche’s. Any benefit of the A310’s debut was lost, however, because the car was slow getting to the marketplace, and when it did the oil embargo quelched enthusiasm. Early production was just four cars a day at the Alpine factory in Dieppe, France.
From an engineering and design standpoint, Alpine had produced a good machine. The initial engine offering was a tuned 4-cylinder producing 125 hp. Like the A110, the A310 had a backbone chassis and a fiberglass body with a rear engine. Further improvements came in 1976 when the car was restyled, losing the striking six headlamp design in favor of a cleaner front end, and sporting a new engine developed by Peugeot, Renault, and Volvo. Available in displacements of 2.6 or 2.8 liters, the PRV engine produced 150 or 193 hp, respectively, and the 2.8 would later see use in John DeLorean’s stainless steel DMC-12. Unfortunately, the larger displacement engine left no room for air conditioning in the A310, a point that wouldn’t be overlooked by Porsche shoppers.
In addition to the two engine choices, two body styles were available. The base model was svelt and devoid of flash other than its inherently pretty shape, but the GT version added side skirts, flared fenders, and a deep front spoiler. Rather than being installed as add-ons to the base car, the GT was an entirely independent fiberglass mold. Stylishly foreshadowing of today’s boy-racer effects, the GT actually had increased drag and was slower than the base model.
Journalists of the day loved the A310, and compared it favorably to its rear-engine rival, the 911. The clutch and gearbox were smoother and easier to operate than a 911’s, writers claimed, and the interior ergonomics were logical and comfortable at a time when the 911’s interior had sprouted buttons wherever there was space.
Alpine had a Porsche beater, but they could not capitalize on their achievement. Renault didn’t seek out the American market, and only a trickle of cars were federalized by entrepreneurs. The United Kingdom was shut out as well — all A310s were left hand drive. Over its production run from 1971 until 1984, about 11,500 A310s were produced, and the majority of those were PRV 6 cylinder cars.
In 1984 Alpine dropped the A310 and began producing its successor, the V6 GT, using the same PRV engine, and a year later added a turbo version called the V6 Turbo. In 1986 Alpine finally introduced an American version called the GTA Turbo.
But the American attempt was muddled with corporate strings and mismatches. Despite Alpine’s engineering heritage, it was still the competition and sport division of the much larger Renault, which had entered into a marketing agreement with the American Motor Company, or AMC, which was known for Jeeps and Gremlins, not highly tuned European GTs. Only select AMC dealers were given permission to sell Alpines, and one can assume that salesmen used to dealing with CJ-5 and Pacer customers would be in a little over their heads when representing Alpine. And the spotty dealer network detered buyers leery of service.
Forces at AMC struggled with the Alpine’s place and direction. Some managers wanted to target the Corvette audience, while others sought the traditional European enthusiast market that would otherwise choose between Porsche and Lotus. The Corvette crowd wanted better low-end acceleration at a cost of unbalancing high speed handling that a Porsche or Lotus driver might prefer. Alpine had always been good at taming rear-engine weight bias. Drivers reported that there was no indication of the engine’s placement.
To make corporate headaches worse, Chrysler bought AMC in 1987, a year after the American Alpine was released. Already in control of Maserati and eager to market the product of that marriage, the Frankensteined Chrysler TC, the new executives saw no need for the Alpine. Ironically, the revisions that made the latest Alpine, the A610, better than its V6 GT predecessor were largely due to efforts to bring the car into the states. Only the roof was the same, and the A610’s engine produced 250 hp, a full 50 more than the Turbo GT. By the time the A610 was dropped, with no replacement, 818 cars were produced.
Each generation of Alpine compared well with Porsche’s offerings. But the sports car business is not only about sports cars; it is also about business. From an early reluctance to explore British and American markets, to the latter meager attempts, Alpine’s corporate parent, Renault, and its step-parents AMC, and Chrysler, floundered while Porsche was developing a brand and a legend. If you couldn’t afford a 911, there was the 914, and if you already had a 911 there was the 928. Porsche’s logo was on everything from posters to ball caps to sunglasses. Alpine made a good car, but ultimately failed to reach a large audience, and the only places an Alpine logo is to be found are on a few tattered key fobs of enthusiasts, and outside of the factory in Dieppe, where one still hangs.
–Chris Dykes