Rose-tinted spectacles. Or maybe beer goggles, except it was more excitement than alcohol that blocked my inhibitions from saving me from this pile.Best photo I have of this thing, by virtue of being parked next to something non-crappy.
Every now and again I get to pilot something new. A group of us piled into my buddy’s GTI and headed up to Tahoe one weekend. I “volunteered” to do the driving. Some of the roads up to the lake would have been well suited to my roadster, but the snow and sub-40*F temperatures we were facing would not have agreed with my Bridgestone RE-11As.
The muck is just from the drive up. It was clean when we left.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Despite looking for something lighter, my “scalpel” as previously mentioned, it wasn’t supposed to be this car. It had a torn top, blown suspension, an ugly steering wheel wrap, and the rear bumper was from a white car with a red smiley face rattle canned onto the passenger side. I was supposed to get my residual, festering teenage idiocy out of my system with this car. I was gonna slam it on cheap suspension, get stupid wide wheels, an annoyingly loud exhaust, and do everything you could possibly do that was annoying to bystanders but secretly kind of fun.
On day one of owning this car I pitched it sideways in the rain, intentionally, something I hadn’t been able to do in the E36 without spinning it. On day six the driveshaft did its best claymore impression while I was trying to show off.
My previous car had been making noises I was afraid to confront, so I decided that replacing it with something newer but in the family would be good. This E36/5 (funky, non-butt having hatchback 3 Series, US Market 95-99) was actually very similar to my now departed E30 in that they shared rear suspension design.Change? Yuck.
My father had a two-door 1985 BMW 318i while I was in middle school . It cemented itself as one of the cooler vehicles I rode around in as a child. In the final months of my Volvo ownership, I began lusting after an E30 (US Market 1984-92 3 Series) of my own. Instead of being a good boy and holding onto my tax return to hold me over between jobs, I went out and bought a clapped out pile of Germanity for less than most people’s insurance premiums. The silliness continued.
The first car that was mine, all mine. A friend’s father sold it to me on a handshake loan and off I went. Blissful ignorance is the best way to describe my relationship with this one. I don’t recall the exact span but it had been some time since the car was last driven regularly. The first night I had it the heater valve blew. Within the first three months I had a tire blow out on the highway, and eventually all of them would need to be replaced due to age. Then the speedometer stopped working.
Complete with JDM angle photo. Ah, to be 17 again.
There are those of us that spend time in places just to soak in the ambiance. For some it’s libraries, others it’s bars, for me it’s usually a coffee shop in the middle of nowhere. Occasionally, I’ll switch to an open track day. Continue reading “SpeedSF at Sonoma Raceway”
