What Makes You a Car Guy?

Happiness, plain and simple! A car can drive you to the depths of insanity (L322 Range Rover, any Alfa). These cars try their hardest to make you crazy with impromptu breakdowns, random light shows on the dashboard, inexplicable self rectifying electrical collapses. But the day the heavens align and you get that moment of pure happiness whether its on the perfect road, plodding through the mud Green Lane-ing, all is forgiven!

It isn’t about power, torque, or handling individually. Its a combination of so many different things. The real beauty is that its all in the eye of the beholder! Where one person loves the power, another loves the mechanics of the engine and the next person just wants to stare at the lines of whatever car it happens to be!

Drive what you want, just make sure you are happy in that little chunk of metal!

Since the earliest memory of looking at a car in lust, I remember underneath the cool lines, power and beauty of the vehicle, it was always about the freedom a car delivers. Especially as a teen, the idea you could be free of your family with a simple turn of the ignition was intoxicating. That feel of the open road and not a care in the world is what drives us each day. Of course, the pretty cars are a great bonus too 🙂

The first car I purchased was a 1961 Fiat 1200 Roadster, the body was in mint condition but the motor on its last leg and only lasted two months. I was working for minimum wages and could not afford another junk and fortunately my roommate had a full set of Craftsman tools, amazing car skills and said he would help me if I got stuck rebuilding it. I did work on bikes in the past but did not know much about cars so he told be just to keep everything together, clean, bag and box junk in groups as I removed it and everything would be okay and it was!

I drove the car on and off for 3 more years getting 36 mpg in 1979, it seemed to blow head gaskets like clockwork about every 4 months, always at night and in the middle of nowhere. Rather than get rid of it I just stocked up with mail order head gaskets from the JC Whitney catalog and always kept two along with a torque wrench and flashlight in the trunk. I could change one out in about 20 minutes on the side of a dark road anywhere in Northern California. It did almost break my car spirits once while on a trip from Mendocino to Santa Barbara with my brother to pick up some much needed cash diving Sea Urchins on the Channel Islands. Near San Jose on Highway 101 it lost fuel pressure, we pulled over and I tore apart the fuel pump only to find that a small spring had cracked, no problem just a quick walk miles down to an auto store, dig through some bins and we would be set. After a 5 mile walk on a Sunday evening only to find everything was closed, only enough cash to pay for the gas to get to SB, we were walking back pretty disgruntled, looking for a good place to set out our sleeping bags for the night near the side of the highway. About 10 feet from the car I noticed a crusty ball point pen in the dirt and remembered that they have small springs in them, after a minor cut with my buck knife and some emery cloth it looked like a Factory replacement, my brother could not believe it when the engine started up on the first crank and the spring ended up outlasting the car. This was the moment I suppose…

Since then I have always seemed to have the older rides while my wife drives late model in comfort, even now I am driving the most beat looking VW new beetle 313K miles with a junk yard engine I put in it, no heat or AC (other stories) in the South, winter is not bad and when the gates of hell open in the summer as long as it’s moving I’m good. String holds the power steering reservoir in place ( a roadside repair 5 years ago, the door panels rotted so I added homemade plywood panels covered with gas station Mexican blankets and brass cabinet handles. The paint was rotted so now it gets a fresh coat of canned spray paint primer (various colors about every 4 months). I always get plugged as to why I drive it and no one will get into it with me, I try to explain that it seems to be like a part of me after so many miles, fits like a glove but just can’t explain that feeling I get listening to it still buzz as I run through the 5 gears, screaming to ever so slowly get up to any speed!

Here she is :

http://www.adamsviews.net/art-in-the-winds/242-gonna-catch-a-southbound

You know you are a car guy when you spend your lunch and spare time reading the Porsche forum threads for no real reason but to know what is breaking on everyone else’s car so you are prepared when it breaks on yours.

I guess it was growing up with a father who was a car guy and always having interesting cars around rather than the usual Holdens, Falcons and Valiants. In no particular order, a couple of Citroen IDs, four Mercedes (the last one was a 6.3), Peugeot 504 then 505, Triumph MkII 2500 PI, Rover P6, Morris Mini, Lancia Beta coupe. And they were just the everyday cars, there were also pre-war cars – Alvis Silver Eagle, Lagonda M45 saloon, Ballot 2LS, Lagonda LG6 and MG P-type, the last two we still have.

I recall Vintage Sports Car Club two-day rallies huddled in the back of an open car with my siblings while dad drove and mum navigated.

Modern cars are better in terms of their capabilities, comfort, etc. but not so much in terms of character. I may feel more tired after a drive in an older car than if I’d done the same drive in a modern, but it’s more enjoyable because of the engagement – you really feel as though you’ve “driven” the car rather than having it perform for you.

I was 15 years old in a classroom in Japan when a school administrator walk into the classroom and escorted me to the office. My father had called and said we have 30 days to get my affairs in order to move to the US. I did what a 15 year old would do… started getting names, addresses and whatnot… In Japan, driver’s licenses start at 18 years old so to my shock, I arrived in my new home enrolled in “Driver’s Education”. Mechanical aptitude? Well, yes. Cars? Pffft. Building models, collecting STP stickers. Scant knowledge of some cool cars of the day; Datsun 510. Mazda Cosmos. That Nissan Prinz the guy across the street used to race in Japan.

Here’s “the deal”, my dad said; we’ll buy you your first car but my job was to maintain the family fleet. I took to tune-ups, muffler changes and oil changes pretty quickly… an then there was Don, my next door neighbor. He took mechanical aptitude to another level as a shipfitter in the nearby shipyard and gearhead. The mid seventies saw the van craze in full swing as I got my first “car”, a 1970 Ford Econoline (party) van. A very used Montgomery Ward delivery van. I wasn’t seventeen but Don had me cutting springs, painting it, lowering blocks and putting my hard earned money on some sixty series wheels and tires. A hotrod van was not a bad way for a kid in a strange land to assimilate and make quick friends.

Don passed away too early in his life, but I will be indebted to him forever.

When everyone around you tells you not to buy a certain car ( Alfa Romeo), you ignore them, you buy it anyway, two months after the timing belt snaps and you have to tow it to the mechanic from 1 meter of snow because it`s January, you throw all the money at the reparation costs instead of a week at a mountain resort, and after that you still ignore mechanics when they say every single time you should sell it because it`s an Italian piece of crap (although secretly they love the Alfa)

Of course it`s a true story, and you can replace Alfa Romeo with any other car, because it would amount to the same thing.

I don’t know why it started, but my mom fueled the fire with her talk of Porsches. When she bought a 911, I was hooked.

Me wife and I, whilst dating too young and all that, headed out from her parent’s farm in a ratty ’79 Buick that I had purchased just to figure out turbos. I had rebuilt the carburetor that day, using her father’s parts washer. We made it to the end of the lane before the motor shut down with a mighty backfire. After a few moments to collect me thoughts, I lifted the hood, twisted the electric choke by hand as lean as it would go, and hopped back in to fire it up.

It was reported that her father observed the whole event, shook his head slowly, and announced to his wife “They’ll be OK. He’s a car guy.” Which, to him, was high praise. His world was split evenly in two – worthless people, and those that could fix things.

taking a $300 VW and replacing almost every component you could think of. Why? Cod my brother needed a car he could rely on. You wouldn’t believe how many times I was told “you want a X part for one of those? It’s probably not worth it..” Well… After the hours of effor replacing suspension, belts, tensioners, cooling systems, gearbox, clutch, electrical issues and even sourcing a AC compressor it’s about to go for its roadworthy. I can’t wait to hear how much he loves it and how many adventures it’s going to go on. All it took was love to rescue it from becoming 3 hyundais!!

I just love driving. I can get behind the wheel of anything from wheezy economy car, muscle car, farm truck or a track prepped 911 and have fun. I like to find the soul and character of a car and kind of synchronize with it. I love getting in an old car and being mentally transported into a bygone era. I love that feeling when you know a car so well it’s like you can put it anywhere on the track and know exactly what it’s going to do. As if you are hardwired to it. I can find a way to enjoy almost any car. Accept maybe that ’84 Corvette I had the displeasure of driving once. I wanted to drive that car off a cliff for the sake of humanity after the first 5 blocks.

I got into cars when I was 16 (I’m 20 now). my vow was too restore a car using all my own money as opposed to just having my parents buy me a car. The car that got me into cars first was actually and Opel GT I saw for sale. The price tag was $2500. I had previously thought that classic cars were out of my price range, so when i saw that price I started wondering what else I could get. My dad had a nice 1973 Corvette back on Hawaii that he had to sell to get a mini van back in the late 80’s, so I decided my first car would be a C3. I tracked down a ratty 1976 Corvette from a guy who lived down a logging road at the base of mount Rainier. That’s an excellent story for another time, long story short I talked him down $2000 and had the car home that same week.

The car had been sitting for 9 years do to the engine smoking. That was the least of my problems, since I had previously overlooked the fact that the driver side window had been rolled down probably the entire 9 years. The entire interior was unusable. We were able to get the engine to fire after all that sitting and immediately decided to rebuild the engine. What had happened was the guy welded a tow hitch right onto the fuel tank support (completely destroyed the fuel tank) and was towing his fiberglass speed boat with all 195 horse power of one of corvettes weakest years. I ended up putting $6000 into the engine and got it to fire, then sold the car since it would cost much more to get it even drive able.

My next car I tracked down was a 1971 MGB that a guy had out in his barn in Stanwood, Washington. That was an awesome experience, the car needed a lot of work but was solid and came with all the parts. We drove the car back to our home in Edmonds and began “Restoring” it from the ground up with my own money. I had always wanted to rebuild a car to bring to the Edmonds car show one year, so that’s what we ended up doing. Mine was the only MGB there, and they put my little British car in between a restomodded 1957 Bel Air and a fully restored 1963 Corvette split window. My car had the most attention of the two from people who had owned it or knew someone who owned it, lots of great stories. I still have that car and don’t plan on selling it.

Since i’m not planning on selling the car, I figured it might be helpful to get a second car since the roadster was no good in bad Washington weather. I tracked down my favorite 60’s design, a 1967 Barracuda fastback. When I initially looked at the car, it looked better then it actually was and ended up buying it. I then discovered that the engine probably hadn’t had maintenance done to it in the past 20 years. So after an engine rebuild, I ran out of money to restore the rest of the car. Plus it kept breaking down, I think it was a timing thing. I ended up selling the car to a 16 year old for a cheaper price. From what I have heard the car is now running strong and they are working on all the things to get it road worthy.

To me, what makes a car person is a willing to teach and enjoyment of the hobby, whether that be a Max wedge Savoy, Peel P50, MG Midget, Ferrari, Bugatti, ralley racing, vintage racing, prewar cars or 80’s tuners. as long as you like cars and are a nice person who wants to talk about cars, you’re a car person. I don’t care how much your car costs or from what period it came from, as long as it’s fun.

The first time I drove a friend’s car to and around a round-about. I just loved handling the gear changing and the balance between the clutch and the accelerator (it was a manual car). It was a spontaneous coast-line trip, my friends had driven all night and stopped to a shitty restaurant. I drove along the coast with the sea on my right, for about 200 yards 😉

I always knew I was a car guy… owning a car with 1.5cuft of trunk space was my badge of auto-hysteria.

I think the point of no return when I convinced four professors to allow me to look at car brochures for my doctoral dissertation. 3 years, 75+ vehicles, hundreds of pages later, I was no longer a car-guy… but rather Dr. Car-guy

I think it started when I was very little. We all had our hot wheels. I was fortunate enough to also have some HO slotcars purchased for me. It was a Dale Earnhardt and Richard Petty stockcar set. Because of that set I decided to watch a race and look for that shiny Black #3 car on TV while I watched. I don’t know who won, what race, wheere it was held or what position that black car finished in, but it was the start of something. This was my entry into cars, racing and “The Man in Black” Dale Earnhardt.

I would become entrenched in finding a spot on the couch every Sunday from spring to fall, watching the cars and drivers change over the years until I was old enough to start thinking about my own car to drive. Being as my father was employed by one of the Big 3 I was not going to get a choice in brand. As it would turn out I would not have say in the model either. I learned to drive a minivan and took my road test in a sub-compact. 2 weeks later I would end up being gifted a Jeep Wrangler, which sadly I abused to an inch of it’s life but in my opinion that’s what you do to cars, you enjoy them.

When that wranglers time was up, I acquired another but it was to be short lived. The car was stolen 3 months after I got my hands on it, stripped and dumped in an alley in the city. It was a sad day that would lead me to hopping into temp cars all while the sport-compact scene began to explode. The loss of that jeep allowed me to get on the bandwagon and in the end I found myself behind the wheel of a sport-compact car and during my time with my Jeeps I had taken auto mechanics and auto body classes. My newest little car was a lease so it kept me from getting too in depth, but at the same time this is when the car bug was imbeded in my soul. I found myself buying a project car for $400 in hopes of having it ready for the road as a raped ape by the time my lease was up. It was a great plan in theory.

This little car would prove to be a complete bear. It would be the source or many tears, lots of sweat and many a drop of blood on the concrete, both mine and it’s own. We would go through a few engine tear-downs, dozens of sets of headbolts and more oil and coolant than I care to think about. It was the best terrible decision I ever made because when it ran it was a oil-smoke, road hugging, ovearheating, hot as hell, manual rack, short-shifting dream. Sadly when it died for the umpteenth time, I was in no position to fix it. I was forced to sell it for parts to an acquaintance. But what that little car taught me was invaluable. Cars are forever. Cars are a part of you, and with enough wrenching you become part of it.

I would go on to own a few more cars but I have never been anywhere near as invested in wrenching as I was with that little car. I will always look fondly back at it. I will always have a passion for the style, the feel, the smells of cars and hope that I will continue to enjoy the ability to drive them, admire them and dream of them. So what makes me a car guy? I love cars.

Because I can.

I honestly can’t remember a time I wasn’t in love with cars. I had forgotten how far back my obsessions went until the day I heard my wife and mom bonding over tuning me out when I’d get started talking about cars or bikes. I remember playing games on the bus on my way to grade school – one was to be the first to recognize cars by their headlights or taillights and the other was who could spot the coolest car during the trip; our bus used to go past a Rolls Royce and pre-owned exotic car dealership, so there was always something amazing to see.

To this day, I still get a rush from just seeing cars on the road, that though I might have no desire to own, are rare and special. From a 70’s Corolla to a TR6 to an ’89 TTA; and all the way up to genuine exotics and old American muscle. I feel the world is a better place with more rare and even oddball cars on the roads.

I changed a cyl. head gasket on my 57 Plymouth once when I had a broken leg. Not so easy to wrench when you are standing on one foot using crutches.