Building one good car out of two damaged or questionable ones sounds easy enough: just figure out which one is the “good” car and which is the “parts” car, and start swapping parts over. But I’ve tried it, and it’s a lot more work than I ever want to do again. But for someone with more enthusiasm and less wisdom, either of today’s choices would do a great job of filling your garage up with clutter for years.
That teal Saturn won again yesterday, but you know what? I’m sick of writing about it. So I’m calling an audible. The mystery car came in second, so I’m giving it the win and using it as one of today’s choices. That Saturn is cool and all, but you can overdo a good thing. (Looking at you, Marvel.)
I’m surprised that MR2 didn’t do better, actually. Sure, the interior is rough, and the title is branded, but it’s a cool little car. It is a little expensive for what it is, I suppose.
So, what was the Bishop’s mystery choice? A Renault Fuego, of course. Two, actually. This complicated things, because I had to find another pair of cars. Luckily, I remembered that I had seen a pair of Alfa Romeos recently, so I just had to track them down. Let’s check them out, and see which two-fer is the better option.
1984 Renault Fuego plus 1982 Fuego parts car – $2,999
Engine/drivetrain: 2.2-liter OHC inline 4, three-speed automatic, FWD
Location: Ypsilanti, MI
Odometer reading: 37,000 miles
Operational status: Runs well, needs brake and transmission work
Of course it’s a Fuego. What else would it be? The Bishop has similar taste in cars to me, or at least a similar appreciation for the unusual and unloved. And cars don’t get much more unloved and unusual than a Renault Fuego. Sporty coupes were big in the ’80s, but the Fuego just missed the mark. Its build quality and reliability weren’t great, its handling was lacking, and its styling wasn’t for everyone. Not many were sold, and very few survive today. When one comes up for sale, it’s usually scruffy, low-mileage, and just pulled out of storage. Like this one.
The Fuego was available with a couple of different drivetrains. You could get a 1.6-liter engine, a 1.6 with a turbo, or, starting in 1984, a 2.2-liter four, which this one has. It also has an automatic transmission. This probably makes it a rarer car than the turbo models, actually; I’m not sure I’ve ever seen an automatic Fuego. It starts and runs fine, and it’s kinda-sorta drivable, but it has a leaking front brake line, and there’s some mention of a toggle switch to shift the transmission, which makes no sense to me.
Apart from some faded paint and a couple of popped seams on the seats, it’s actually in really nice shape. I don’t see any signs of rust or damage, and it rides on a nice set of Alliance GTA wheels. The cloth sunroof opens and closes, but it needs new seals, so it’s duct-taped shut. Can you still get sunroof seals for a Renault Fuego? I have no idea.
This is the parts car, a 1982 non-turbo model, which means it has the wheezy 1.6-liter engine. The seller says it has a nice interior, but we don’t get any photos to back up that assertion. Two spare transmissions and a whole stack of service manuals are also included.
1977 and 1979 Alfa Romeo Spiders – $4,000
Engine/drivetrain: 2.0-liter DOHC inline 4, five-speed manual, RWD
Location: Ridgecrest, CA
Odometer reading: 79,000 and 81,000 miles
Operational status: “Both ran within the last 3 years”
Italian sports cars are never not going to be special. Whether or not they’re worth their often high prices, or the hassles involved in keeping them on the road, is up for debate, but they’re always going to be cool. And while some enthusiasts are able to spring for big-ticket Italians like Ferraris and Lamborghinis, for the rest of us, there are the Spiders. Both Fiat and Alfa Romeo sold a bunch of little convertibles here in the US, and a surprising number of them are still kicking around. Restored examples are getting expensive, but rough ones are still pretty accessible. This pair of rust-free Alfa Spiders is going to be a lot of work for someone, but if you just have to have your Italian car fix, they’re a pretty cheap way to start.
The Alfa Spider was in production for an astonishing twenty-seven years over four generations. The body style stayed largely the same, but you can always tell the generations apart from the rear. These two are from the second generation, with a Kamm tail but no big black rubber spoiler like the third generation had. Both of these cars have been sitting in an airplane hangar for a decade since the owner passed away. Unfortunately, they passed away without telling anyone where the titles were, so these two are being sold with no titles. Jump through enough hoops at the DMV, and you can probably get them titled again without too much trouble.
They’re both reasonably clean outside, but rough inside. One has no top at all, and the other needs its top replaced. One has a new exhaust, the other was tuned up shortly before they were put in storage, and both have allegedly run within the past three years. Both need new brakes. Both of these should have the 2.0-liter engine with SPICA mechanical fuel injection, and you should have no trouble finding parts or advice to get them running.
Interior stuff could be harder to find. Better join an owner’s club that can hook you up with a source for parts. I’m sure someone has a barn full of Alfa Spider parts, including an entire interior for at least one of these.
And thus ends the whole “mystery car” experiment, at least for now. I’ll probably try a variation on it again later, but for now, we’re going back to two known cars each day. One thing you’ll never see again, however, is a “neither” option. You have to choose. Will it be the oddly-styled French coupes, or the derelict Italian roadsters?
Going take the risk on the Fuegos. They at least make fun yard art. And I can do fun activities on them, like sit on my Fuego while eating an Eggo and drinking some Faygo. I could enjoy my Faygo and my Eggo on my Fuego while playing with Day-Glo Legos.
I definitely would have chosen the Saturn again.
I’ll have the Fuegos, I guess. They don’t really do a lot for me, but neither does a pair of roached Alfas with no titles, so might as well not have to do any weird paperwork.
So the house is changing the rules of the game mid-play? Not cool.
Those of us letting it ride on mystery cars for the week should still have one more car behind door number 3 that might be worth taking home.