G CAR
My uncle was ocular and preferred not to drive, leaving my aunt to do most of the driving. He lost his left eye in a milling accident. When Deisenberg’s were fading in popularity and Mercedes were built to last, my aunt drove in a, Grand Prix. She loved driving, more than anything; and, was always impressive with her shiny jet black cars that had flaring nostrils and pronounced beaks. Once, while we drove past City Hall my aunt told me she had purchased it and I believed her. When 150hp meant allot, my aunt liked to demonstrate just how much it meant. Truly, she drove with confidence and I really enjoyed sitting on plush seats in a car that seemed to float. Perhaps it was a false sense of security that lead me to enjoy riding.
I’ve ridden in lots of cars and worked on my fair share over the years. I rode in cars that had panoramic views – there were rust holes in the roofs and floors. In one car, Mom’s door came off while we were riding – she would have fallen out to a most certain demise down a river embankment had it not been for, Dad’s heroic deed. He grabbed her coat sleeve. Shortly after that, he bought a Willis. From that time, we always had Jeeps.
We were farmers and I was driving a tractor while I was still too young for grade school. My first vehicle was a pick-up that we hacked out from an old Ford car. I drove it mostly on dirt roads and in isolated areas. We used it as a farm vehicle, hauling logs and produce from fields and woods. Driving older cars meant lots of time spent working on them. They were also expensive, so I turned my attention to motorcycles. I built two; Daytona 500’s and once owned a, Kawasaki 500cc. Nevertheless, my real attraction was for sport and performance cars. While some prefer ground hugging, springless, bone-jarring suspensions, my dreams included comfort.
The late 60’s and early 70’s spawned the era of muscle cars. I was most impressed with the limited, Pontiac Judge. It had a muscular build and equally impressive motor/transmission hookup. I was mesmorized with the leather wrapped interior, and it came with a Hurst shift. It was smooth, yet powerful when the wheels grabbed pavement, but tires were expensive. That was my friend’s only car. He kept it for a lifetime.
I once test-drove a Corvette Stingray and that was fast but squirrelly. My theory about the perfect car is one that looks pleasing and relatively tame with a strong motor that grabs the road without leaving rubber behind. The perfect car is comfortable over long distances, with a quiet, comfortable interior. I like a car that has back seats for lounging.
I like to enjoy driving without thinking about it. Imagine having a car that factors math like a computer, where each wheel thinks for itself, adjusting for each corner and you do not have to use brakes. Most of today’s cars are capable of reaching above highway speed limits. They can all be competitive on the highway. Traffic manipulation becomes a skill to match with quick acceleration and stable maneuverability. Matching those attributes to a car that can self-adjust to driving conditions makes driving more relaxing and enjoyable. My favorite dream car is a family sedan with a smooth exterior and Batman technology under the hood, with electronic shifting, quicker than one can shift manually. Forget paddle technology, unless you are practicing for Grand Prix; just remember to steer.
I enjoyed personalizing cars. Shiny chrome and a bit of pin striping was a simple operation to make a car look pleasant. Having older cars taught me skills that I might not otherwise have developed. I learned how to work on motors and perform some cosmetic repairs. Working on old cars was less a passion and more necessity. If given a choice, I preferred a low maintenance dependable ride to high-end sport cars, but sport cars are fun. Imagine combining both good attributes.
My first car cost me, $150. I made it reliable and maintained it. I gave it to my sister for her wedding present. She kept it for years, and always thanked me for it.
I owned a TR4 while in the service and it was a thrilling ride. I took pleasure in hi-speed corners while sitting inches above the highway. It was as close as I came to owning a go-cart. The interior was less than Spartan. There was none. The cockpit contained two seats divided by a column and gearshift. It also had a glove compartment. I preferred driving topless, even when it rained – the roof leaked anyway. The idea of rain flying within inches of my head without touching was a marvel – just do not stop! It took several minutes to raise the ragtop, but it was modern for its time. It had glass side windows, unlike some other cars that used button on plastic for windows. That car might have been my loudest car interior, having zero insulation. It probably started the ebb of my hearing. Who cares about hearing anyway, when you’re having fun! I was born half deaf and never felt remorse, except when hit by a bully. That did not last long. Folks learned that some flowers have thorns.
I did a brief stint with a racing, Sab. That was fun and aggressive. I burned through three motors before trading it. Banks were not loaning money to young men, even veterans, to buy used cars. I did not have enough cash for a car. They made me buy a new car. Their reasoning was it would last long enough for them to repossess it, or for me to pay it off. Anyway, my credit rating was on the line. I bought a Vega, and it lasted for one year before collapsing into its own rust. That car took me three years to pay for, all while walking or taking a bus – so much for bank logic.
Walking is limited. You can only walk so far in a day, I know, I once hiked cross-country. I bought a Honda 360cc Scrambler. It was affordable and more efficient than walking everywhere. At sixty miles an hour, it would get eighty miles to a gallon of gas. I could travel comfortable in urban and suburban environments while making an occasional trip. Motorcycles provided me with an affordable way to travel. They limited my attention span for riding. Many cold wet leather jackets and pelting rainstorms that inflicted thorough soakings convinced me that I could do better. I prefer owning an all weather vehicle for daily driving.
The dawning of, Suzuki Side Kick was my idea of ultimate freedom. It had a custom, stainless steel side body that worked effectively against rust when combined with Rustoleum. It got 25mpg, in four-wheel drive. I spent many snowy days and evenings looking for excuses to drive it on country roads where it was a joy. It was slow to accelerate -- about like driving a Mercedes diesel (few people remember their station wagons). I liked its efficiency. It was firm but not uncomfortable and could hold adequate luggage with forward folding seats. It reminded me of, Dad’s old Willis -- and it was about as fun to drive – perhaps more dependable. It was practical and affordable, lasting well and with low maintenance for years. They quit making them that way. Newer cars with more power got less mileage. It was practical to drive utility type vehicles, as is for farming and children. My dream car always eluded me, for a truck type of vehicle. My only respite from mundane driving was reading car magazines.
About the time, Isuzu stopped exporting cars and trucks to this country, Infinity came out with the AWDG-sedan. They have smooth rides with quiet leather wrapped interiors. They are comfortable and efficient. I would have settled for the last year’s model, a front wheel drive that was just about as good. My sweetheart wanted the current model and preferred all wheel drive. Interiors were white, black, or brown on the lot cars. She wanted beige. We ordered the car with a beige interior. It just happened to come with a sport-tuned suspension.
We had invested in a retirement fund that accumulated wealth over the years. It was my idea to use dividends to purchase the car. I reasoned that we were making as much or more than the car payments. It seemed logical to invest in a real good car that we could keep for many years. I thought that we could continue to receive dividends after the car was purchased and it would enhance our retirements. My plan worked well, but not like, I expected. About the time, we had the car paid off, the market crashed and the fund tanked. That left us with about what we had invested into the fund, but it could have been worse, if we had not purchased the car.
I parked the car in the garage where it spent most of its time, and the exhaust rusted while it was set there. That was depressing. I cannot understand the logic of having a great car with a self-detonating exhaust. Neither did my wife. How could anyone make such crap, she wanted to know. Were exhaust not made of stainless steel? Why would it rust in a dry garage?
I did a poor job of trying to explain my theory of how humidity in the air might cause it. That did not appease her and she would not buy it. It became my job to sort it out and sift through.
Off I went to the Infinity dealer. He told me they used standard exhaust pipes that year to shave weight. Somehow, I could not believe that. I think that stainless steel might be lighter. It made no sense to replace the system with the factory standard rust-bucket issue. Somewhere I learned about, Stillen exhaust systems. They are custom made of stainless steel. At that point, I was willing to do about anything for a more permanent fix. It sounded like a good idea.
I spoke with a technician for advice. He suggested that I might, get better performance and gas mileage by modifying the intake and with polished headers, or something to that nature. It sounded good to me that a bit of polish and modified intake/exhaust would solve my problems. I was willing to do what I could for a rust free solution – if it added some power and better gas mileage as an added bonus, that would be good as well. They claimed to shave about twenty pounds from the car. If you think about it, one could gain that much weight with groceries in the back. Racecars usually do not carry groceries.
I was unprepared for the transformation. Infinity is normally a fast car. Whatever they did, made it wicked fast with an attitude, and sounds of woof and vroom, depending on acceleration. It became a talking car, encouraging other cars to move over. A friend tried it in a quarter mile run and said it took about twelve seconds. I never timed it and left it to his imagination. It sounds a little loud but not too much, until the tachometer passes 2,000, and it rises rapidly up the decibel scale to almost a deafening roar. It matched the expressway speed limit, entering the highway off the ramp. With light traffic and a heavy foot, I meshed the throttle along a quiet stretch of the expressway. That was a first in a lifetime experience to witness triple plus digits, within seconds. I was afraid to see just how fast it could go. Whatever that is, I reason is too fast for me. I was amazed to hear what sounded comparable to a jet engine and gear smacking snarls as it meshed into every set. You could drive a quarter mile in just three or four gears – fifth gear does not connect until after 120, and the tachometer remains pegged as it continues gathering speed. I entered an S curve with a 45mph advisory at 80 and exited the final twist over 100mph without much breaking action. The wheels somehow compensate by applying break pressure or transferring power to other wheels. You just point the wheel and it goes there.
They said I might notice some gas mileage improvement. I set the cruise control slightly north of 70mph on a trip. It averaged thirty-one miles per gallon. Many cars get that kind of gas mileage today. Some hybrid cars can do better. They also cost more and are usually heavier and slower. Small cars that have four cylinders do well also. They cost less money too, but they are not as comfortable, or as stable. Most economy car drivers prefer affordability to speed. We could have bought a comfortable economic vehicle for less money. The market could have continued rising and we might get a pleasant dividend each month to supplement our retirement. The opposite happened. It was not my intention to soup up the car. My wife encouraged me, insisting on a rust free cure for a headache – the one she gave me over the car! I try to have a positive attitude. Few cars look or sound as good to me as our sleeper that barely sleeps. It is audible from blocks away, while deceiving many with the gentle look of a well-manicured car.
I kept quiet around home, admitting that the car sounded a little louder. It was better to wait and let my sweetheart drive. She could decide for herself to like it. There are faster cars. Most of them sport summer tires and are seasonal. Some are racecars wrapped in street gear. After a long drive it can feel like riding on a log. Their owners sometimes trailer them to the tracks. Most cars designed for all seasons, will not mimic racecars while on the highway. They are heavier than racecars. Their interiors are luxurious when compared to carbon fiber racing seats and they are much more comfortable for trips. Rarely do both attributes become an amalgam of quality, comfort and performance, with the gas mileage of a lamb.
