Wild Cars, Episode 4: Wild Horses

There was a period of my life that can in retrospect only be called "The Mustang Era", because after wanting a shiny new pony car for many years, I finally got three in a row, a linear stampede of color and chrome that lasted seven years.

I guess I was lucky in the timing. Gas was still relatively cheap then, and I got one long stretch of muscle-car euphoria before I went back to the displacement-challenged, more practical cars of today.

My first 'Stang was a 1996 GT, all decked out in purple with three shades of gray inside. I really wanted a convertible, but it's a $4,000 bump and you can't even consider buying one here in Michigan without all manner of would-be advisers reminding you that "it's not worth it because of the short summers here". Hmpf.


But my first Mustang was exhilarating after so many years of huffing, underpowered asthmatic econoboxes. It was so fun to drive that I slid right from that one into an even more powerful screaming yellow GT in 1999. Still no convertible...$4,000 plus grief from the weather-fun-killers, remember.


Finally, for 2001, I bit the bullet and ordered a red GT convertible, and I was SO glad I did. Turns out we have quite a long drop-top season here in Michigan, at least for those of us with functioning circulatory systems. So it turned out the naysayers were wrong after all. Go figure. And Zach just loved the thing. "Pop the top, Daddy" he would say every time we rolled away from the curb amidst a chorus of thundering V8 exhaust notes.


In case there is any doubt in your minds, NO, I didn't even consider getting automatic transmissions in any of these cars. That would be the highest form of sacrilege. There is nothing in this world as fun as a hot car with a V8-powered stick shift...it's just you and the road.

Oh, there were compromises to be sure. Mustangs don't have much trunk space when they get done cramming in those two big subwoofer amps, and that room shrinks to almost nothing when you bite out a big chunk for a convertible roof mechanism.

And winter driving was always at least challenging, and often downright dangerous. Road-wrinkling torque, rear-wheel drive, and Traction-Lok axles do not play nice with snow.

But the ponies were worth it, every minute. It doesn't get any better than rolling down Woodward Ave on a hot summer evening, top down, music up.

Not a care in the world. That's what you're really buying, not mere transportation.

Wild Cars, Episode 3: The Dart Game

My first car was also my sister's first car. I bought it from her in 1983 for $500. To say I was excited to have my own car is a pretty big understatement. And it was a cool sleek thing with a V8 and a moon roof. Rolling sexy, on regular gas.

The Dodge Dart Sport was a "Duster-ized" version of the shoe-box Dart. Originally called the Dodge Demon, the model was renamed to Dart Sport in 1973 after religious groups complained of the name Demon and the cute little red guy with pitchfork emblem (incidentally, why can't people just not buy something when they don't like it, why ruin things for everyone else? I really liked the name Demon).

Grr. Anyhow...

Mine was a 1974, the last year before the introduction of catalytic converters and unleaded gas, so this thing smelled poisonous on the exhaust end. It was Lucerne Blue metallic, with a big black stripe and black vinyl half-roof. The moon roof never worked right, opening or closing it required the equivalent effort of wrangling a large steer to the dirt. And the heater linkage was broken so the heat was on all the time.

All that and AM radio...Woohoo!

But it was mine, and I loved it. I remember driving it to Pentwater one summer with my brother and a couple of friends, all loaded down with sweaty people and canvas tents. I felt alive and in control. The open road. Freedom is a rare and precious thing when you're a teenager.

And then there was the time I was going to the music store to buy concert tickets in the rain and I was hit by a bald-tired New Yorker as it slid through a red light. The passenger side was crunched like a used yogurt lid, but eventually we fixed it and it was good as new.

I had the Dart for a few years, and then sold it to a friend of mine for $450. He promptly got in a bad accident and totaled it.

I often wonder where my old Dart Sport is, probably rotting in some junk yard. Or, just maybe, I have since re-bought part of it in a new car, recycled into a fender or something. I hope that's the case, because my Dart is the only car I've owned that I miss.

Wild Cars, Episode 2: Vitamin K

In our relentless drive to be super-cool, and just coming off the studliness of the Plymouth Horizon, we ordered one of the very first K-Cars, a shiny red 1981 Plymouth Reliant. As we were told by every car magazine, this was the car that would save Chrysler. This is what they spent all that loan money on. And it did save them...the first time. Chrysler has been saved a few times since then of course.

Our Reliant is pictured here, on the street behind our Charger 2.2, as it tends to look better as background scenery for cooler cars.

The first indication that we had a brand new car in its first week or two in production made by a company circling the drain was the missing emblems. Not sure what happened there, but my guess is:

Chrysler Manufacturing Engineer: "Sir, we're all set to start production on this car that will save our company but the dang plastic emblems haven't come in yet!"

Chrysler Manager: "Ship the damn things without them then you friggin' idiot! Nobody will notice."

And this car had worse issues. It was totally and completely uncool, to the point of actually oozing big drops of uncool onto the road. It was so square it made a brick look sleek and sexy by comparison. Even the trimmings of the high-end model we had couldn't hide it's anti-coolness. As they say, you can't polish a turd.

And it was severely, even dangerously underpowered. You did not want to pull out into heavy traffic in this car. I remember the first time I drove it I thought it was slow compared to the Horizon! I guess that was a blessing in disguise though, because it had really bad torque steer that would have been much worse had the engine produced any actual torque. In the winter, the airbox would often ice up and further reduce the power. I remember not being able to top 35 MPH once on the freeway. In Motown, that is a scary situation.

But it was good on gas, and my dad was all about that. And aside from all this bad news, it turned out to be a pretty reliable Reliant.

The one K-Car story that sticks in my mind is the time my father didn't realize that Brian was not yet in the car and drove over his foot. Brian was yelling and screaming and going on about it and my dad, a little embarrassed at having run his son over, just reminded us all that this was a pretty light car and that one corner couldn't have weighed much more than 7 or 8 hundred pounds. I'm sure that made Brian's foot feel better, knowing that.

Wild Cars, Episode 1: New Horizons

We were the first on the block with an econobox. The year was 1978, and that was about the earliest any of the auto companies could respond to the severe gas shortages of 1973. And the Omni/Horizon still used many European parts, including a Volkswagen 1.7L engine fresh out of a Rabbit. But it was the first real competition to the imports and won the Motor Trend Car of the Year award.

My dad was eager to get a car that got good gas mileage, after years of big V8s that drank gas with a fire hose straw. Our Horizon was a sort of medium blue, and about as square and utilitarian as a clothes dryer, and with the same sex appeal. It had an AM radio for entertainment, and was our first car that ran on unleaded gas.

I remember this car very well, because it is the car we had when I learned to drive. It was actually peppy compared to the GM X-cars we had at driver's ed.

But my greatest memory of this car will always be the time I raced my friend Mike Kollenberg south on Coolidge avenue between 13 and 12 mile roads. It was at night, and he was driving a big creamy-yellow V8 Chevy Impala wagon. My little Horizon kept right up with him, and ended up passing him late in the race for a win. I was very impressed, my perception of the little blue box improved considerably that night. I drove my winner with pride after that.