Alternate Universe David Tracy: Chrysler Doesn’t Get Bailed Out In 1979, AMC Thrives And Builds A 4WD Hatchback, David Buys A Junky One Decades Later

Here we go again. The following story is a pure fabrication. It was NOT written by actual David Tracy. Also, the car that imaginary David Tracy will purchase in the tale never existed, since Chrysler Corporation did NOT go bankrupt and out of business in 1979 (but in reality, they were this close to dying). Still, we all enjoyed David’s recent wrenching and driving adventure in a World War II Jeep so much that I figured another one would be fun, even if it’s just fan fiction by me. Besides, a dreamed-up road trip would be a lot better for David’s sanity and marriage than another real one right now. At least until the Jeep parts are out of the living room.

What would I, David Tracy, be without Jeeps? Visualizing that is akin to imagining the sound of one hand clapping. Hardly anyone in the automotive community can think “David Tracy” and not picture a Jeep. Well, that and rust. Lots of rust. I’m obsessed with these things, particularly Jeeps from the late eighties when American Motors was at uts creative peak and the execution did justice to the ideas. Such an addiction is hard to hide when you’ve owned or almost bought nearly a dozen of them over the years; you’ve read about my absurd adventures on this site saving derelict examples of these masterpieces.

Still, now that I’m a practical family man, I’ve made a solemn vow to not purchase yet another Jeep from the American Motors lineup of 1987. That era of my life is over. You’ll notice how my vow did not include non-Jeep AMC 4WD vehicles, didn’t you? That means an ultra-rare off-roadable turbo diesel American Motors compact is fair game for purchase, right? I’ll take that as a “yes.”

[Ed Note… I don’t… I don’t even know w hat to say. -DT]

Mopar Turns No Car

Why was American Motors so successful in creating irresistible products during the decade of decadence? Well, it all goes back to the fall of the once-venerable Chrysler. In 1979 the lesser of the Big Three found itself in hot water with poor quality, uncompetitive products in the face of a changing market that wanted better, smaller cars. Disastrous, costly recalls of their Aspen and Volare compact accelerated the demise of the already-cash-strapped firm.

When the U.S. Government refused to guarantee loans to bail out Mopar, the company was forced to declare bankruptcy and cease to exist. This opened a door for American Motors, a company that once struggled to find buyers for their innovative small cars now had the right products and the right time to fill the void.

[Author’s note: obviously, in the real-world timeline the government DID bail out Chrysler and Lee Iacocca in 1979 by guaranteeing 1.5 billion dollars in loans, but more than a few critics at the time were against it. I mean, did they bail out Studebaker? Chrysler paid back the loads ahead of schedule, but in hindsight that did seem unlikely from a 1979 viewpoint.]

Suddenly a profitable venture now that Chrysler was gone, AMC worked quickly to update its aging products with help from part-owner Renault. That lineup also included some exciting Jeep vehicles launched on the cusp of the SUV boom, a few of which I’ve had the pleasure and pain of ownership recently. First, I bought a strange AMC-branded and egg-shaped YJ-based 1987 Jeepster. My next acquisition was a full-sized 1987 SJX “OffRoadster” pickup with a TechForce 360 V8 and five-speed; the successor to my departed SJ. I narrowly avoided buying a 1985 Jeep FC Grand Teton forward-control pickup:

I did, however, purchase a little 1987 Jeep Mighty Mite Rascal with an animal inside that I wasn’t aware of until halfway through my drive home with it:

Ultimately, none of these rides stayed with me that long; all of them went on to new owners that had the time and money to bring them back to their former glory. Considering that I go to all the trouble trying to rescue these misfits but never keep them, would I really bother doing it again? Well, when a rare 1987 AMC Adaro 4WD hatchback with a turbodiesel and a five-speed manual appears on the List of Craig, you can be damn sure that I will.

Ren-No Way

At the time of Chrysler’s passing in 1979, the only product that Mopar had that was worth keeping was the French-developed Golf/Rabbit clone called the Dodge Omni and Plymouth Horizon. AMC took over and continued to build this not-bad subcompact in the Belvidere factory until they could get their own product up and running.

Naturally, Renault had their own new product for this segment that debuted for 1982: the Renault 9. The boxy-looking sedan replaced their earlier Renault 14 hatchback. A quick side-by-side look at the 9 versus the 14 and you, like many critics of the time, might wonder which one was the “new” design. The boxy 9 is rather awful while the 14 looks fresh even today.

Reportedly, AMC design chief Dick Teague saw the squared-off Renault 9 and took a pass. Sure, he had no choice but to use the mechanicals of that car on the new-for-1984 American version, but he chose a rounded style far more like the earlier 14. This would fit better into the lineup of AMC products:

As luck would have it, the squared-off appearance of the 9 would become dated quickly and choosing the more “aero” looking direction would pay off in a design that looked fresh for far longer. Here you can see a closeup of that now-three-year-old car, the Adaro, in the lineup of AMCs for 1987:

The “compact with the friendly face” was supposedly influenced not only by the Renault 14 but also the earlier Pacer and even the front end of the cool AM Van concept that Teague’s team presented in the late seventies.

Some might say that the Ford EXP’s “eyes” also played a role, but Teague claimed that wasn’t the case.

Ford made the mistake of adding deep “hoods” over the lights that erased much of the “cuteness”, while the AMC interpretation of the look took on a modern-Pacer appearance. It might have had a lot of French blood in it, but the car was purely American in terms of design and production. Actually, it was made at the Brampton, Ontario factory so as the Bishop told me, “it’s as Canadian and eighties as sharing a two-four while watching Kim Mitchell’s Go For Soda on MuchMusic.” Whatever that means.

Adaros were available as two and four door hatchbacks, as well as the needed notchback sedan to compete with the likes of the Jetta, Mazda GLC, or Corolla which had that popular body style. The Radwood types really like the VW GTI-adjacent “GTA” model today.

source: The Bishop

Powering the Adaro at first was a wheezy 1.4 liter four from the Renault 5 / LeCar that pushed out 64 horsepower; a later 1.7 version with fuel injection managed a still-weak 77.5. However, for 1987 AMC finally upped the ante to compete with the class-leading Escort, but they did it in a surprisingly French way. You see, while the early motors were transversely mounted to drive the front wheels, the new 108 horsepower 2.2 liter Douvrin engine was mounted longitudinally in the car, requiring a “power bulge” in the hood. Jason reported on how the Renault 21 did this odd flip-the-engine-90-degrees-in-the-same-car trick as well.

Also, despite the lack of interest in diesels by now in America, AMC inexplicably offered an 88 horsepower turbo diesel 2.1 liter version as well. Hooked up to a five-speed manual, the diesel Adaro proved about as popular as vegan haggis (or any haggis really). Naturally, that’s the powertrain I’d want.

Oh, but it gets better.You see, when AMC saw that north-south motor you can imagine what their first thoughts were: we gotta make this thing four-wheel drive! I mean, why not? One of the few other longitudinal front drive compacts made at the time- the Toyota Tercel- offered a version with a driveshaft coming off the back of the transmission to power the rear wheels as well as the front. There’s no way that the owners of the Jeep brand could let that Tercel stand as the sole four-by-four econobox.

Here’s a photo and illustration from Toyota that gives a far better description than I could in thousands of words:

American Motors copied Toyota’s layout, including the Tercel’s switch to a live rear axle on the 4WD version instead of the standard independent setup; they upped the ante with a two-speed transfer case. Here’s a vehicle that I wanted the minute I became aware of it, so naturally you can guess what came across my craigslist feed one afternoon while I was deciding to sell off my fleet.

So, will my wife kill me or just make me live in this thing when I pull into the driveway?

Adara-ble Junk?

Opportunities need to be taken when they arise. Of course, not everyone would could consider the chance to purchase a 176,000 mile 1987 AMC Adaro 4WD Turbo Diesel five speed with what the ad described as “some electrical gremlins, clutch slips, and interior a bit shot” to be an “opportunity”. Still, when a mere 876 were sold in this configuration forty years ago it would be easier to find a Ferrari F40 than one of these. Plus, that Ferrari wouldn’t be listed today for “$3800 oboe”, though I don’t have an oboe to trade. I might be able to find a saxophone.

My long-suffering colleague Griffin drives me to the middle of nowhere outside of Lancaster, well over an hour north of our offices. We turn behind a somewhat dilapidated industrial park and immediately see the object of my desires sitting there:

Griffin has a dumfounded look on his face; I imagine that he’s as overcome by the beauty of this Kermit-green egg as I am, but that might not be the case.

How could you not love that face? The factory graphics look awesome, and the chunky “Alpine” alloys under the Sport Package flared fenders look comically tough. In back, there’s a wraparound glass hatch and TURBO DIESEL branding that the exhaust oil-stained paint makes rather redundant.

Oh, but the inside of Adaro is where things start to get less-than-American. The funky Gumby-with-folded-arms seats taken from Renault Fuego are part of that Sport Package as well.

It’s at the dashboard where it starts to go off the rails. Cubic shapes culminate in “satellite” switch pods for driver controls on one side and climate buttons on the other; this Sport Package also model gets the altimeter and inclinometers sticking out of the top center of the dash.

Controls are scattered all over the place, with a digital clock, turbo boost gauge and an odd diagnostic panel buried low in the console. A power door lock button lives down there too; front window switches are on the facing surface of door armrests where you can’t see them, and the rear window buttons live on the console. Very weird. I bet it’s going to look like a 1980s Sony boom box when all lit up at night.

Here’s those strange switch pods in detail:

The owner lists the issues from the ad and mentions that there’s probably “other sh*t he’s forgetting now”. Yeah, that’s called foreshadowing. Regardless, the thing fires up after a few cranks and billows out a healthy cloud of blue smoke. “Burns some oil, too” quips the owner. I’ll bet.it does I hand him three grand, get the title, and pull away once the clutch decides to engage. Performance is sort of “fast glacier” level; I’m used to slow cars, and this one is hardly the worst I’ve driven or even owned. Other than the muffled grumblings up front it’s rather quiet and rides well enough, but don’t forget that I’ve just driven for days in an authentic World War II Jeep as a frame of reference.

Heading west into the setting sun, I pull down the sun visor, not expecting the next event. Either a volcano has just erupted and made everything dark and dusty, or the visor has collapsed and taken the decrepit, dusty headliner with it onto my face. I’m rendered essentially blind while piloting what was already a relative deathtrap at sixty miles an hour.

Luckily, I pull over safely, throw the visor in the direction of the back seat and tuck the headliner out of the way. Next stop needs to be for some duct tape to hold it and oil to replace stuff going out the tailpipe. Pulling into an auto parts store parking lot, I wonder how many parts they’d have in stock for a 1987 Adaro as I yank the hand brake and sort of put the rubbery shift lever in gear before I hop out and head into the store. Besides the oil and tape, I grab a tree-shaped air freshener that the Adaro’s interior desperately needs as I check out. I’m sure I’ve forgotten some essentials as I leave the store, but it turns out there’s nothing that I need now: the Adaro is gone anyway:

Okay. Getting a car stolen in my first hour of ownership is a new one for me, but thankfully a cop with lights going is on the other side of the street. He appears to be investigating a car that’s gone off the…oh, wait.

Yeah, that’s my Adaro in the bushes. So apparently a hand “brake” that doesn’t hold well was one of those things that the seller was “forgetting now”, and the finicky clutch meant that what felt like “sort of in gear” was not actually “in gear”. At some point during my time in the store, the Adaro tried to make a break for it backwards and into the culvert across the street, narrowly missing a guard rail.

The officer looks perplexed; “I saw this striped, green egg thing backing itself into the road with nobody in it”. The Adaro is sort of wedged in a culvert with no body damage but looking up a steep incline. “You’ll need a tow truck more than likely” says the policeman, but I have to at least give it a try. Hopping in, I fire up the old diesel, engage 4 LOW, hope the clutch still has some bite and tach it up. “Pocketa Pocketa WHAAAAA…” The old tires spit dirt and fight for traction while the Adaro slowly but surely extricates itself from the hole and back onto the road.

The officer doesn’t know how to react to this dopey-looking once-driverless little-car-that-could. It just did something usually reserved for Wranglers. He slowly walks back to his Explorer, kills the flashing lights and drives away, like a guy that’s just witnessed a UFO and simply wants to deny what he saw. Damn, I love this car.

Darkness is starting to settle in now, and the headlights are underwhelming even for rusty sealed beams. Trying to decipher that strange instrument pod, I’m able to find the comically large high beam button. I hit it and for the second time today I’m plunged into total darkness at highway speed.

As an engineer and skilled troubleshooter, I do a level-headed assessment. Actually, I bang repeatedly on that weird-ass alien ship switch pod thing while yelling, and the feeble fireflies-in-a-jar low beams eventually return. Yeah, don’t touch that button again, David. “Electrical gremlins” is right.

Thankfully, the lights decide to behave and I make it back home under the cover of night; I can wait until morning to cautiously reveal my new acquisition. While driving the last few miles, I have an idea to secure its place in my fleet. In the cargo area is a spare wheel the seller provided which does not match the Alpine-style alloys at the four corners. I remove it, place against the car, and head in for the night.

As morning arrives, my plan works, but maybe too well. I don’t know if kids under two can experience a heart attack due to excitement, but I felt like I was about to watch one happen. My wheel-obsessed child wobbles outside and is about to explode upon seeing two of the most exciting wheel designs he’s ever witnessed in his short life. He’s pointing, screaming, jumping up and down. I mean, can you blame him? Mom, can we keep this cute pet Adaro for a while?

Wait Until I Start Hoarding $3000 BMW i3s

I’m guessing that at least a few former owners of some Jeeps in my life have since passed on, and that really got me thinking. With classic rides, we’re just custodians of them for a time; “ownership” is too strong of a word for something that could very well outlast us. Will the Adaro 4WD Turbo Diesel stay in my fleet for long? I really don’t know, but my guess is that if it does my wife will transfer me to “deceased former owner” status as well.

Regardless of what happens, I’d do it again with the Adaro or any of these odd 1987 AMCs and Jeeps. The fact that I could save them from near-certain deaths so that others can enjoy them as much as the people that drove them off the AMC/Jeep lot brand new decades ago means far more to me than having my name on the title.

topshot underlay: Renault and Buffalutheran (wikimedia commons)