So for the last couple of weeks, I’ve been playing it pretty safe with my choices. I’ve shown you cars that could easily be driven normally. But I’m kind of tired of them, so this week we’re taking a cue from The Troggs, Maurice Sendak, and Neve Campbell and Denise Richards, and checking out some wild things. We’ll start out old and get newer as the week goes on.
Last week, we started out cheap and got more expensive as the week went on, in an effort to discover how much you have to spend to feel comfortable driving a car daily. The answer, as we determined with Friday’s vote, is between two and four grand. Most of you went for the Mazda, with the Pontiac Vibe coming in second. Only a few brave souls felt that the $700 Chevy could work as a daily driver.
After a little cleanup and a careful inspection, I could happily drive that Lumina. I’ve driven worse. The advantage of a car that looks like that is that you don’t have to care about it at all. Street-park it in the city, blast down a dirt road and listen to the gravel ricocheting off the bottom, teach yourself how to do a J-turn, it doesn’t matter. Owning a car like that is very liberating, as long as you can afford to have something nice as well.
Most cars built after World War II could conceivably still be driven on the road today without much trouble. You’d want to stay off the freeway with a lot of them, but the controls will be more or less familiar, the levels of power will allow them to keep up with traffic, and apart from panic stops and emergency maneuvers, they can all get around fine. That cannot be said of the few remaining cars built before the war, though. Top speeds are often 50 MPH or less, controls range from confusing to downright bizarre, and safety is just not a concept that applies at all. But don’t you want to try driving one, just to see what it’s like? Let’s check out a couple of them.
1915 Ford Model T depot hack – $6,000
Engine/drivetrain: 177 cubic inch flathead inline 4, two-speed manual, RWD
Location: Boring, OR
Odometer reading: Does it even have one?
Operational status: “Runs and stops”
The Model T, by virtue of being the first really affordable people’s car, was put to almost every use imaginable. And to tailor it to those uses, it was built in a wide range of body styles. The frame, drivetrain and everything forward of the firewall remained pretty much the same no matter the use, but the body could take on a variety of shapes: four-seat “touring” cars, two-seat “runabouts,” roadsters, pickup trucks, delivery vans, and even small buses. This Model T is what was known as a “depot hack,” essentially a taxi cab, primarily used to carry passengers to and from train depots.
The Model T’s simple mechanical design was a key to its success. It’s powered by a big, lazy four-cylinder engine that sends 20 horsepower through that weird foot-operated transmission to the rear axle. It uses a magneto ignition and a thermosiphon cooling system, both of which keep the moving parts count low and the reliability high. Model Ts changed a lot over the years; this was the first year for electric headlights, but still a couple years before an electric starter was available, so you have to use the hand crank to start it. The seller says it runs and drives, and more importantly, stops. Eventually. The brake pedal operates a drum brake inside the transmission, and there’s a lever for brakes on the rear wheels, but nothing on the front. Leave yourself plenty of room to slow down.
Most pictures I’ve seen of depot hacks have a third row of seats that this one appears to be missing. It also has no roof. The body has a rough, hand-made look to it, which is not uncommon. There’s a good chance that this car started out with a full depot hack body, but got chopped up over the years and turned into this kinda-sorta touring configuration. The seat upholstery looks surprisingly nice, though; I get the feeling someone redid it.
Fun fact: Kingsford Charcoal started out as Ford Charcoal, and was originally made from the wood scraps of Model T bodies, starting in 1920. Ford’s wood supply came from its own timber land in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan, and the charcoal factory was built right next to the sawmill. The charcoal briquettes were sold through Ford dealers, along with portable grills. Recycling, and tailgating – what’s not to like?
1938 American Bantam Series 60 roadster – $9,995
Engine/drivetrain: 57 cubic inch flathead inline 4, three-speed manual, RWD
Location: Forest Grove, OR
Odometer reading: unknown
Operational status: Runs and drives, I think
The story behind this car has its roots in another, less well-known people’s car, the Austin Seven, introduced in 1922. The Seven was a tiny, tough, simple car that did for British motorists what the Model T did for Americans. It was so popular that it was built under license by none other than Datsun and BMW, as well as the American Austin Car Company. But the Seven was a tough sell in America, being so small, and American Austin went bankrupt in 1935. It was re-formed in 1936 as American Bantam, and in 1940 it developed the first prototype of a four-wheel-drive vehicle you may have heard of. This Series 60 roadster is closer to the old Austin Seven than it is a Jeep, though.
The original engine in this car would have been a 747 cc inline four, taken from the original Austin design. This one has had its engine swapped with a 1 liter unit from a Ford Anglia, which probably makes twice the power (not that that’s hard to do). The original engine is included, if you wanted to put it back to stock. It has also been converted from cable-operated brakes to hydraulic brakes, though the cable system remains intact, if you want to reconnect it. I don’t know why you would, though. From the sounds of it, it does run and drive as it sits, though the ad is a little cryptic.
“This car is meant to be driven by a shorter person,” the seller says. “There’s not much leg room.” I could make a joke about our diminutive founder, Jason, driving and enjoying a Bantam in the early days of this site, but I won’t. (Or actually, I guess I just did.) It does look pretty tight in there, but it’s in remarkably good shape. Again, I get the feeling that it has been redone.
Outside, it’s simply a delight: the curves, the chrome hubcaps, and the cheery yellow paint all make for an impossibly cute little car. There is some obvious body work that has been done, and not terribly well, but considering it’s pushing ninety years old, we’ll let it slide. Fun fact about the Bantam roadster: it was the inspiration for Donald Duck’s car in Disney cartoons.
No, you couldn’t actually use either of these for regular transportation, though I’d love to see someone try. They are curiosities, relics, reminders of an earlier time when you didn’t need to go 80 on the freeway just to keep up with traffic, and you didn’t need a Ph.D. in computer science to fix a car. I can’t imagine anyone here wanting to buy either one of these, so I’ll reframe our discussion by asking a different question: Which one would you rather take for a spin?
I’ve never warmed to Model Ts. The kid across the street restored a ’25 when I we were in high school, and it never really did anything for me. The Bantam is cool looking and as a bonus, it has a starter that won’t break my arm! (This was common enough with Model Ts to become known as the Ford Fracture.) No contest for me on this one – Bantam all the way.
It’s a both kind of day. I’ve always had a morbid curiosity on driving a Model T so I picked that one. An aftermarket actually exists for this car so we can Ship of Thesius it back together. Plus it’ll handle our infinite construction season roads just fine since it was from a time where paved roads weren’t a thing everywhere.
I will take the Donald Duck Car. Old T’s and even A’s are just to much of a hassle to drive really. I doubt I would fit in either comfortably, but the Bantam is rare enough for me to want to try.
Model T no question. Especially since this is an earlier brass one. I’ve always wanted to own a brass-era car, and Model Ts are the easiest ones to get
Model Ts are a riot and a half to drive, and as complicated as a rock, so that is my instant choice.
Bantam!
It’s basically an Austin seven, and there are about as many period correct race parts as for the T.
The T would be fun to take rock crawling if you gave it some rear brakes, but otherwise the only traffic I would want to drive in would be a parade. The T is a marvel of technology and problem solving, but I can’t see driving it much.
The Bantam could be made very drivable, there are a couple I see in Monterey – granted you might see nearly anything being driven in Monterey.
The T is a brass version, and lowering the seats and steering to make it speedster might be fun.
Both or Bantam for me.
While I love T and A (ha ha), I gotta go Bantam! What a beautiful design and has had a ton of work done. While the Model T is iconic and cool, this one is a “hack” (ha ha) that just needs too much work. The Bantam has more substance and would be a blast to own and drive.
“use either of these for regular transportation”
That would be me…
“I can’t imagine anyone here wanting to buy either one of these”
Also me…I’ll take both!
Bantam! It’s ridiculous. Model ts, hot rods and otherwise are still dime a dozen. No problem finding parts but it’s also not going to really stand out. The Bantam looks like a clown car and that’s simply amazing.
I voted Bantam today if only to support more cars having body matched paint for the dash and steering wheel. I know the 500L from a couple weeks ago had the dash but just a boring black steering wheel.
Seeing that rear 3/4 view of the Bantam, I immediately thought of Donald Duck’s car – thank you for confirming my suspicion in the paragraph that followed.
I picked the Bantam, even if they won’t let drive it around pantsless like Donald.
You don’t know until you try.
Bantam for me. And since I’m 5’8″ and not obese, I should be able to fit into and drive it comfortably.
Both of these vehicles come with a spare tire, so they have one-up over modern vehicles.
That Bantham is so darned cute! Supposedly nimble for its day. Upgraded brakes are very reassuring for any vintage vehicle.
So when I was in the 6th grad, I was assigned to write a Limerick. I asked my dad to help. Dad gave me this to turn in.
There once was a man from Boston
Who both himself an Austin
There was room for his seat
and room for his feet.
But his balls hung out so he lost ’em
I had a very memorable meeting with the principal. Ends up, he remembered my dad from the “Golden Screw” incident years before. I got in trouble for not doing my homework and dad’s PTA band was extended.
Obviously, I had to vote for the Austin, even though I doubt I could fit my 5E shoes in it.
You couldn’t write your own limerick? That’s a little bit sad.
Good story, though.
Both me and my dad are engineers. Words aren’t really our thing.
Okay. I can accept that. Own who you are.
That being said, Dad’s PTA ban for the Golden Screw showed he had some serious story telling chops.
In this case, it was my eldest sister that told the story and it was the 1st grade in the 50s. (I’ve shorten it dramatically BTW).
“There was a baby boy that was born with a golden screw in his belly button. The doctors feared removing it and just waited. As the child grew, the screw stayed there and didn’t seem to be doing any harm. In High school, he became a legendary football player and, of course, everyone nicknamed him “The Golden Screw” and the local papers were all about “The Golden Screw Scores 3 TD” and the like. He went to college, and the Golden Screw stuff got even worse. He just wanted to be known as Harold, not “The Golden Screw” for some weird birth defect. Finally, on the night before draft day, he had a vivid dream. An Angel all dressed in Gold came down a golden ladder and used a Golden Screwdriver to remove the screw from his belly button while telling him that the years of his prayers had been heard and answered. It was such a vivid dream that when he awoke, he jumped out of bed…
And his Butt fell of.”
Honestly, if I could draw anything other than Misshapen potatoes, this would make a very high selling kid’s book in the tradition of Captain Underpants and the like. An entire Book about the exploits of “The Golden Screw” with the punch line on the last page. I expect kids would love it as much as the Boomer kids loved it back in the day and I expect the parents wouldn’t use as many pitchforks.
Cheeky!
“But his balls hung out so he lost ’em”
That’s nuts!
I’d like to drive a Model T just for the education/experience, but I had to vote Bantam even though it looks like a child’s toy and likely offers as much protection in an accident as a Vespa.
Re: not being able to use it as a daily driver… you mean because these cars are old, right? Would the CA DMV not let me register a Model T or this Bantam? They were both sold in America at some point, right? I’m sure getting insurance would be a PITA from a regular carrier.
You’d be able to register them fine, and get insurance through Hagerty or another collector car insurance company. But yeah, I would not use these as daily drives because in stock form, they can’t get up to highway speeds and they don’t stop well, or have any safety features whatsoever. You could modify each to be faster though, and improve safety somewhat, although they’ll never be as safe as a modern car. Or even as safe as something from the 50s.
I’d vote that you’d be safer on a Vespa than in the Bantam, so long as you were wearing proper riding gear. I think I’d rather take my chances sliding on the pavement than being trapped in a rapidly collapsing box of thin sheet metal.
Still, I vote Bantam, because I’ve spent time in Model Ts but have never been in a Bantam.
Well, to be fair, if you were trying to daily either one anyplace where there’s other/crazy/lots of drivers, traffic, speeders, you’d be smart to wear a helmet in either the Model T or Bantam. 🙂
Someone should buy the Bantam and take it to the Great Pacific Northwest Microcar Extravaganza June 27 on Sauvie Island! (Not me though, won’t fit.)
When I lived in town, I dreamed about using a Model T as a fair-weather errand-runner, and this would be a good candidate and is close by. They’re not hard to drive and there’s a trick that makes them easy (and safe) to start, and random fun anachronisms make everyone’s life better. But I live on a highway with 60MPH traffic now.
Also: if you are into cars, engineering or just learning stuff, DO A MODEL T DRIVING EXPERIENCE. LeMay in Tacoma WA, WAAAM in Hood River OR, Gilmore in Hickory Corners MI, AACA in Hershey PA, MoAS in Lincoln NE all offer these, they book up fast though.
I’m almost certainly on the end of the spectrum that wouldn’t fit in the Bantam, but… We have a lot of, shall we say, assertive (read: stoned/batshit/nihilistic) drivers in our area, and I feel like the Bantam would be so disarmingly cute and outrageous that driving it around town would almost be safer than in a modern car, because how could you do anything but smile when you saw it on the road? It would just spread joy and peace and harmony.
Or I’d get flattened by the first Challenger driver that decided I was too stupid to live, but at that point I’m not worried about it anyway.
I looked after a 1959 Morris Minor 1000 convertible for a year or so during the ascendance of rolling coal and, while the Diesel Bros certainly enjoyed looming over my old Subarus, I was never tailgated or otherwise menaced by them in the Moggy.
Most people pointed & smiled. Many laughed. I couldn’t take exception to that
Since I visit Kingsford, Michigan regularly, and use Kingsford charcoal all summer long, I’ll pick the T today. There are still plenty of them around there for parts.
Don’t forget Iron Mountain!
I remember my Grandpa taking me to Kingsford to his favorite bar back in the early 60’s.
He knew Ford when he was a little kid, and lived just a couple of houses away from him in the UP.
Good times.
I love anything named Bantam. Such a cool word. Bantam tools, Bantam cars, Bantam CT. So cool.
Bantam Books.
Ironically, Ford sold a mini truck named Bantam for three generations (until the 2010s)
Na na na na na na na na na na na na na na na na) Bantaaaaaam! Bantam! Bantam! Bantam!Da da da da da da da da da da da da da! Bantaaaaaam!
Voted Model T because I would rather drive that. I have always wanted to drive a Model T – I figure I would probably get confused by the controls and crash it, but I think it would be fun right up until the moment of impact. I wouldn’t buy this T, though. These aren’t worth much and you can do way better by spending just a little more money.
I have almost the polar opposite opinion of the Bantam. It isn’t that I don’t want to drive it, but I think it might be challenging for an XXL gentleman like myself. This seems like a decent value for the price, though – I like the upgrades and I like that the original mechanical bits are included.
I am a 5 ft 7 guy so the Bantam is perfect. Yay!
Model T by default. I would not fit in the Bantam. Plus I would like to learn how to drive a Model T, just one of those bucket list kind of things.
Definitely try the Model T, it’s really interesting! Out West, the LeMay in Tacoma and WAAAM in Hood River offer lessons, and I believe there’s places in the Midwest and East that do.
i’ll take benny the cab from who framed roger rabbit. at least it wont be as complicated to drive as the model t. i watched Mr. Regular review one of those once and felt i needed an engineering degree to get it out of a parking lot.
Bantam, it’s interesting. A cheerful little car. I’ve never been in to model T’s. About the most fun thing you can do with them is put one together in a few minutes with a few people.
Bantam, as I’ve already had the chance to ride in a Model T. Sadly, I’m not sure I would fit in the Bantam, but it could still be interesting.
With some Vaseline and a shoehorn, we can make you fit!
Love me some Model T simplicity and reliability goodness.
It would clean up okay, I’m sure, and if you really wanted to spiff it up, you could brush on some fresh black paint. Haven’t ever driven (or even started) one, but I’d sure like to learn how.
Kinda want both, though. I’d take the Bantam to Bonneville and run it on the salt flats. It would be my Ab Jenkins Tribute car (and it’s already yellow), and I’d call it the “Mormon Meteorite.”
Some auto museums (Such as WAAAM a few miles up I-84 from this car) have Model T Driving School sessions, I highly recommend taking one. It’s a great way to explore an alternate branch of automotive evolution.