Car enthusiasts are emotional creatures. Sure, we love to talk spec sheets non-stop, but at the end of the day, we still buy cars largely based on emotion. I am one of the worst at this. I have something like 23 vehicles in total, and let’s be honest here, I don’t even need 22 of them. I could get by with a single Smart as my only transportation, just as I did only 9 years ago. All of the extras are owned purely because of how they make me feel. So, cars can have a lot of emotional power. Which car left the greatest impact on you emotionally?
Now, I could take the easy way out here and start talking about my fleet of six Smart Fortwos. The Fortwo was my teenage dream car, alongside the Volkswagen Touareg V10 TDI, first-generation Audi TT, and first-generation Audi R8 V10. Sure, my first Smart was only $16,200, but that was a huge deal for me. I was a “glass half-empty” type who couldn’t even see a year into the future. That car was proof that I can make dreams come true.
But I’ve now told that Smart story maybe a dozen times. This time, I want to talk about a car that hit me particularly hard recently. That car was the Lotus Emira.
Yes, I know, being in love with a high-dollar sports car isn’t particularly original. But for me, it’s different than that. If you’re a longtime reader, you know I am a champion of tiny cars, big cars, weird cars, old cars, pickup trucks, commercial vehicles, and basically any vehicle with an engine that’s not necessarily a car. Sports cars and supercars are typically far outside of my purview.
Then, last October, Matt Hardigree tossed me the key to a Lotus Emira while I was in Los Angeles for the wicked Galpin car show. I wasn’t even supposed to drive this car, as it was a loaner originally destined for Thomas, but he was sick and wasn’t present. My ride was the company’s self-accelerating Pontiac Aztek. I think I had the Emira for barely over 24 hours, and it was the ride of a lifetime.
This car was an emotional rush. Here I was, the big truck, tiny car, and train chick commanding a car with greater handling prowess than anything I had ever driven before. There are journalists out there who do drive McLarens, Lamborghinis, and Aston Martins with surprising regularity. I’m not that person, and I’m not sure I’d even want to be. But this Emira was a taste of that dream I had when my biggest goal in life was just getting a driver’s license.
That Emira wasn’t just a brilliant driving machine, but it was a mood booster and one of the high points of my life as an enthusiast thus far. I felt like a million bucks and I further understood why some guys will buy a new Chevrolet Corvette or Porsche 911 and treat it as gently as they would a newborn. This wasn’t so much showing off for other people, but like when you play a classic video game at home and hit a new “personal best” score. So, yeah, if I ever run into $100,000 of free money, I’d probably head to my Lotus dealership.
How about you? What car hit you the hardest emotionally?
Top graphic image: Mercedes Streeter
BMW E3. And you did not read that wrong. And this was not any stock 2800 or 3.3 this was a 3.3 with a Marine block and L-jetronic and öhlins rally springs and dampeners all round… Went where most RWD BMW go, round a pole after a turn and some wild spins… Still miss it.
The air-cooled Beetle. I watched the Herbie movies as a kid and fell in love. My dad had a friend with Beetles who used to give me rides around the neighborhood when I was little. And when I was 11 I got a 1972 Super Beetle that I still have today, 21 years later. I’ve always been a car guy but getting the Beetle allowed me to put all the things I’d read about cars into practice. It didn’t end up being a father-son project like I’d hoped, as my dad got too busy with work. So I learned and did everything myself. That was the foundation of my automotive knowledge, and I built it out from there, learning about more complex systems on modern cars as I got older. If it weren’t for the Beetle my passion for cars would look much different!
Honorable mention: my Honda S2000 track car. I didn’t build it, my dad had a bunch of track-focused work done when we both drove the car. He has has since upgraded to a C8 Corvette as his dedicated track car, so the S2000 is mine now, more or less. The way the S2000 sounds at full throttle down the main straight as you change gear near 8k RPM… magnificent. Hoping Dad can retire here soon and we can get some more track time together!
Man, the Herbie moves really were car indoctrination for so many of us, weren’t they?
~~1970. Mid Michigan. Citroen DS. I thought it was a space ship.
Probably the ‘78 T-Bird (second one) I had years ago. The car itself wasn’t that special, but I was young with expendable income, and wanted something to soup up. My first car was a 78 T-Bird with a 351, I thought it would be fun to build up a 460. Before taking the first one apart one of my friends at the time located a second that wasn’t driving. Long story short, the feeling and sound of that big block firing up for the first time was an exhilaration I’ll never forget. Especially starting with a dead car in a field and a motor someone had sitting on a tire in their garage, I wasn’t completely sure it would all work out.
Not me, but my brother. In high school (1982 or 1983) he bought a used 1975 Chevy heavy-half truck. The odometer had rolled over at least once. The holes in the floor (both sides) were big enough to Fred Flinstone the thing. Cab corners rotted, rocker panels rotted, holes in the bed around the wheel wells. But it had a 2 barrel 350 V-8 and a three-on-the-tree transmission. Dad and brother talked the guy down to $700 from $1000. Old galvanized ductwork made do for patches (pop riveted in place). Totalled out when he was making a left turn and some dude behind him in a K-5 Blazer with no brakes and no insurance tried to pass him on the left. The driver door was crunched and the front inner and outer fender on the driver’s side were pushed in against the exhaust manifold. He bought it back for salvage cost from the insurance company and we re-positioned the cab by lifting it with the front loader on the farm tractor, then replaced the door and fenders. I recall some frame straightening witha porta-power as well. Fast forward and a buddy of his is getting rid of a 3/4 ton 1976 Chevy 4×4. He put his old cab on that frame with the running gear from the 4X4 and his engine (which he had rebuilt by that time) and viola! A 4X4 Chevy with a wooden flatbed. He still has it, most recent major repair was replacing the rear axle because it had rusted through. There are so many more stories associated with that truck I could write a book. He will NEVER. PART. WITH. IT. We joke (but I don’t think it’s actually a joke) that he will be buried in it.
The Ferrari in my garage. Every time.
This was a hard question actually,so many of the cars I have experienced left a impact on me. The greatest though are probably my Oldsmobile just for being a great machine and my fathers SAAB 9000 turbo because that was the coolest car I as a fresh driver had access to,and drove for a longer period. Also my first engine swap.
All of them?
If that list is too long, or if it reflects a sincere lack of effort that I offer a few:
1974 Lamborghini LP-400, chassis no. 1120010 & 1965 Ferrari Lusso (both owned by my childhood best friend’s dad and the first super cars I got to enjoy close up)
1963 Chevrolet Corvette (it was featured in the I. Magnin Christmas display in San Francisco in 1983 and I still remember how it made me feel)
1972 Super Beetle (my first car)
1967 Imperial Crown Coupe (my first classic)
1974 Ford Econoline (my first restoration)
Porsche 914 in Ravenna Green (my reward for besting cancer-still need to pick this up)
Fellow survivor- Happy for you. Stay positive and live life to the fullest. 🙂
Same to you, my friend. Same to you. This November will mark 6 years with my buddy NED (No Evidence of Disease).
Tough call between two for me. Option A would be my first 500 Abarth. The first car I touched with my own wrench, the first car I really, truly meshed with. He was my boy through and through and his death was very traumatic. Option B would be my Lancia Scorpion. Again, a car I’m happy to turn a wrench on and a car I just really mesh with. But also she’s the car that made me feel like I was “leveling up.”
For me, it was the 2005 Elise I purchased new and owned for five years. It was the superlative driver’s machine, and despite what many might say, was the perfect daily driver, even over here on the US east coast. It really showed what a car could do and left a perpetual smile on my face during my 53K mile tenure of ownership. I was not afraid to drive the car at all. It had plenty of stone chips low down in front of the rear wheels (no StarShield fitted on my base model “stripper”, paint choice being the only option) by the time I sold it. Rain, snow, you bet I drove it. Wasn’t coddled, but thoroughly enjoyed. Did all work on it myself; it was just that simple a car and relished every moment.
1995 Mercedes W124 with the non-turbo 6. After personal financial crash #2 I had to let go of my 2008 dream garage, a 1999 BMW 328is and a 2004 Volvo V70R. I had been driving an old Windstar for the last two months, one that had been tossed behind the barn by some random family member. I happened to see a classified ad and jumped on the chance to get the Merc for $2k. It had 200k miles and the prior owner had given up on all services about 50k miles before. AC was out, seats were ripped, the steering wheel was coated with makeup. But she had good bones and no smoke on startup.
Changed all the fluids, cleaned her up inside out, tires brakes belts, and sewed in strips of old denim work pants into the seats to keep the kiddos from picking out foam. Drove her everywhere – everything from church to massive earth moving jobs. Returned 40 mph in the summer, 30 in the winter. No power but handled great.
As we paid off the unexpected debt I found that I wasn’t eager to get out of the Merc. She was showing signs that the end was near. When she had 320K on her I left the office one day to find my beloved Merc was now shaped like a banana. The rust had eaten enough of the middle under the undercoating that she let go, sagging a couple inches. I used the key to roll down the windows without opening the door and drove her to the local old merc mechanic, hoping she had one last mile in her. The mechanic assured me she would live on as a parts car. But I practically teared up at the loss.
My stupid piece of shit Tracker is the one I refuse to retire. I picked it out for my sister originally, when her little Ford Escort shit the bed, and she needed an AWD/4×4 car for mountain passes. She worked her ass off all summer in order to buy a Subaru, but came up short. I remember how devastated she was she couldn’t get a Subaru, and was almost angry at the ugly little Tracker. We bought the little thing at about 10 years old, with about 90,000 miles on it. Well she drove it for 4 years, and 40,000 miles. She decided she wanted something with an Auto (and less hideous) so she bought a beautiful Cherokee Classic. She passed the Tracker on to me for $1000, with the expectation that the little turd would only last a few more years.
I’ve had that little bastard for over a decade, and well over an additional 100,000 miles. In that time I’ve slowly transformed the little thing to an even more capable adventure 4×4 than it’s lowly appearance would suggest, and have had countless fantastic memories made in it. I’ve even purchased (and sold) potential replacements for it, including “LE HOLY GRAILE LANDCROOZER” but it just does exactly what I want it to without too much fuss.
It’s certainly outlasted whatever Subaru she would have bought, and has given far less trouble than that Jeep has. (She still has the Jeep, but it’s off the road with some electrical issues).
I love my little Trashcker.
Yes, I’ve become a cliched statistic. My answer is the Miata. I test drove a 2001 Miata on a lark to kill some time and I was immediately smitten. Up to that point I had been drooling over stats and horsepower for my next car, but the Miata proved to me that a good driver’s car didn’t need to be fast and expensive. My wife laughed at the idea of getting a Miata until she test drove it too, and then we were sold. I dropped the top in that car at every opportunity and 99% of the time I arrived at my destinations happier than when I started.
In London circa 1971. (I know: prehistory). And saw 2 cars that did it for me. An orange Porsche 914. And a BRG Lotus 7 with a big old 7 in white circle in the sides. I managed to buy a 914 2.0 later in life and I loved it till my chiropractor said get the F out of that driving position or spend many many $$’s on my services. The 7? At 6’2” and wider than I was in 1971 that car was a fools errand, hell I can’t even fit in a Miata. But the fantasy of the unbearable lightness of being in a 7 seems like the optimal experience without spending an entire 401k
“unbearable lightness of being…in a 7.” Nice.
My MGB GT, and not in a good way, and it’s not done yet. It was a childhood dream car of mine, and when I finally got a chance to buy one, I was over the moon. But I’ve loved it for nine years, and it has never, not once, loved me back.
You remember Charlie Brown and the football? How Lucy keeps promising she’s going to let him kick it this time, and then jerks it away at the last second and he falls flat on his ass? I’m Charlie Brown, the MG is Lucy, and the football is just one good drive. Except that the MG is even more cruel; it has given me a couple of good drives over the years, between long bouts of gross mechanical failure.
But even then, it’s not half the car dynamically that the Miata that it replaced was, a car I thought I had no emotional attachment to but enjoyed immensely. Every time I drive the MG, I’m afraid to push it too hard, worried about something breaking, being overly cautious with its mediocre brakes, so I don’t really enjoy it. I’m left with a question I can’t answer: if I love this car so much, why don’t I like it?
And now it’s broken again; the clutch won’t release, so you can’t put it in gear when it’s running. I replaced the hydraulics, but I fear it’s a bad throwout bearing or release fork. There’s a nasty vibration in the clutch pedal when the engine is running. Clutch work is an engine-out job on an MGB, and I don’t have the eqiupment to do it properly, nor do I have the gumption to put that much work into it.
It breaks my heart, but I’m going to end up selling it as-is, for far less than I want, just to have it out of my life. It feels like a failure, especially after dragging it all the way across the country, but I don’t think I have a choice. That car has defined my life for nearly a decade, and I feel like that’s long enough.
This seems like a great excuse to put David through hardship again.
“Can DT make MT love an MG again?”
2004 Chevy Astro. The emotion: distaste for anything GM. Coming from two Toyota pickups, the Astro was a total piece of junk. You will not be able to convince me to own any future GM product. *Distaste is the rather watered down version.
In terms of cars I haven’t owned, I’d have to say the Tesla Model S… it’s the BEV that proved you can make a BEV that people want to buy and can be sold at a profit. It basically caused a paradigm shift and effectively put an end to any chance of hydrogen cars having any chance of success and helped accelerated ZEV mandates across the world. It also did more to refute the BEV naysayers than anything anyone could say.
It also is responsible for me investing in TSLA shares and making some good money off that stock until Elon’s success caused him to lose his mind and align himself with The Deplorables.. causing my plans to eventually own a Model S to get kyboshed until the day that Elon Musk is separated from Tesla.
So the Model S is easily the one car that stirs up a variety of emotions for me.
Now if we only look at cars I’ve owned… then I’d have to say the 1990 Ford Festiva.
It was my first car. And my Festiva had a 900W stereo that cost me CAD$1500 to buy and have installed (the Festiva itself cost me CAD$2000 back in 1996). I did a lot of road trips with friends with it. So it has a lot of emotion not because it was a great car, but it was my first car and lots of memories tied to it before my life filled up with responsibility.
Had one in red. Had a guy cut the roof open for a giant sunroof. Loved it
I think my parent’s BMW 2000 was formative for all of us since that got them subscribing to Road & Track and going to races.
The next most important cars were my 78 Scirocco, because it was the first car I bought, and the first car I worked on. I also still remember the rented Landrover Defender 90, since I had wanted to drive a Landrover since I was in grade school.
The BMW R90S is also a big influence since it kindled my love for Cafe racers, and is why I have an R100S
My third car, a 1972 Datsun 240z bought from a professional Backgammon gambler in Los Angeles in 1986. I too had never heard of high-stakes Backgammon, the car had been lost in a game and the winner wanted it gone. And what a peach it was as I later discovered: a 2.8l block converted to SU carbs, headers, a cam, lowering springs and Koni shocks all for $2,100. For two glorious years I drove that sublime beast both in California and on my college campus in Louisiana.
An uninsured redneck drunk driver plowed into it parked on a quiet Winter Haven FL neighborhood street going at least 60mph. Glad I wasn’t in it, I wouldn’t be writing about it if so.
My Lotus Europa was probably the most fun car I’ve ever owned, and I’ve owned a huge number of cars. It was just so well balanced, even if I never got in or out of that car gracefully. Number two would be my Citroën SM, not as good a handler as the Europa (not surprising), but you could waft along the highway at very high speeds. It was also really good in the snow (I drove it for one New England winter).
Renting/driving a Ferrari 458 Italia through the Maranello countryside for about 20 minutes. Still feeling pretty good about that one 10 years later. If I ever am lucky enough to get there in life, that’s the Ferrari I’m buying.
Wow, that’s a hell of a goal. Best wishes, truly!
I bought a used Evora and it is everything I could ever want in a car except the maintenance.
I love the way the Evora looks – what makes it a maintenance headache? I would assume the engine at least is pretty reliable (given that it’s a Camry V6 IIRC).
Early Evoras have various little issues, but the one that really sucks is the clutch. Mine went out about a year ago, and I still haven’t replaced it. I just don’t have the time. It’s an engine out job, which is a lot of work. Word on the street is $20k for a dealer to do it. I’ve been plugging away at it here and there, but there’s no end in sight.
Good lord. That is a hell of a lot of work to get at a damn clutch. Is there genuinely no way around it without dropping the engine?
I’m not sure. I’ve heard that it can be done by just pulling the engine out a little bit, but I’m not quite there yet.
My 2006 GMC Sierra 2wd crew cab. It wasn’t initially an emotional reaction or purchase. I bought it because I needed something reliable, and had been burned quite badly on the late model CPO vehicle I traded in on the truck. What has made it emotional, is it’s longevity in my life. I brought it home in the last week of my first teaching job. I took my wife on our first date in it. We were standing next to it when she told me she loved me for the first time, on a warm spring evening. We drove away from our wedding in it, complete with a smashed bedside and the lower front bumper flapping in the breeze, because I could not at the time afford to fix them. It’s been with me through job changes, buying and fixing up our home, brought home both of our children from the hospital, endless hours and tens of thousands of miles carting my family around both in day to day life, and on long road trip vacations. It’s been the rock of reliability that has always allowed me to get to work or pick up my kids, no matter what. Freeing up time, money, and energy for having fun questionable vehicles as well, because I never have to worry about my truck. I’m now two decades into this teaching career. And while I’m sure it won’t be a daily driver when I do finally retire, I fully intend to drive my truck to the last day of school ever for me.
I’ve loved every vehicle I’ve ever owned. Even, and sometimes especially, the the unreliable and/or objectively terrible ones. But my truck is the only one I’ve ever developed a sentimental attachment to. I’ll never sell it. The second owner will be whatever junkyard takes it, when the frame finally breaks in half. And only after I pull the 4.8 LS out to put into something else. Possible something objectively terrible 🙂
We’ve the ’05 single cab version with the 4.8, bought from a kid blathering about putting a diesel engine in it then “losing interest” (realizing he had no clue what he was doing). Once we fixed the deferred maintenance it became a peach of a truck – and I don’t even like trucks. We bought it out of necessity and now it’s a prized member of the fleet. People who think they have to buy a new truck because warranty are just clueless.
That generation of truck is particularly durable and reliable. Parts are super cheap too. I’ve never had a repair bill north of $600, except for when I had the rusty rocker panels redone.
My 1995 S-10 was like that.
Chevrolet… Like A Rock.
Bob Seger said it best.
I was hoping somebody would pick up on that 🙂
Alfa Tipo 33 Stradale – I have been lucky enough to attend the Amelia Island Concours d Elegance several times over the past decade and one year they had a late 60’s Alfa Romeo Tipo 33 Stradale that arrived to its display space under its own power. The curves, the smell, the sound, and diminutive size left an impression on me that remains a high water mark to this day.
In high school, my dad had a ’76 MGB that was fun to drive (when it worked). A friend’s dad had a Mercedes 450SL, and then another friend’s dad had a ’78 Alfa Spider. We would trade every now and then, and while the Mercedes was amazing, it was too smooth and too much for high school me. The Alfa, however, immediately grabbed me in an emotional way; it was rough, fast, loud, and tons of fun. Now, a thousand years later, I’m in the middle of a big restoration for my ’69 Giulia Super and it will be my “forever” car, haha
In the late 90’s I had a Moto Guzzi Le Mans III that I had worked on turning into a flashy cafe racer. It was big and agricultural, and fun to ride behind all my other friends who were riding Ducatis. One day I got to ride a friend’s F1-B, and it was a revelation. It was light, revvy, and essentially a rocket compared to the Guzzi. As soon as I got home I started looking for one. I’d still have it, but it was a tight fit for a tall person (and the 16″ front wheel was a bit funky)
The LeMans is an epic ride all unto itself. But the F1-B? That is what I envision as my “forever” bike and will one day be mine. From the first time I saw a used one and I couldn’t afford it ($7500) next to the 750 Sport (same weird 16″ wheels) I have desired it. I think I would take the tri-color over the Montjuich and Laguna Seca versions!
I actually ended up with an F1-S, which as I remember was essentially the same except for the exhaust? I was able to find a Montjuich exhaust for it which was *amazing* (I’m not sure the neighbors thought so though…). By all means do it though. You sit very upright with not a lot of space between the seat and pedals, and so having shorter legs helps!