How can I possibly have enough material for another car post already, you ask? I wrote about saying goodbye to my 1980 VW Rabbit Convertible back in the middle of March. A month and a half later, I’ve already acquired two more cars.
Okay, it’s not as bad as it sounds. I got tired of putting money into my luxurious BMW so I sold it, took a cheap hatchback in trade for part of the value, and bought a really nice 1986 VW Golf for daily driving.
I could write about how incredibly nice and clean my Golf is, how the first thing I did to it was accidentally back into a travel trailer and destroy a taillight, or how I installed a roof rack that came off a van and immediately conked myself on the head with the bar that stuck out a foot on each side of the car.
But that’s just business as usual. Let’s talk about this strange little blue thing.
The car is a 1985 Chevrolet Sprint. It has a BMW badge on the hood, and was built by Suzuki. Already, you must be thinking, this is a rather sketchy car. Well, it gets better.
Previously owned by one of my coworkers, a burly man who at some point was capable of bench-pressing nearly 400 pounds, the Sprint has a custom roof rack hand-welded to it, and the sunroof is sealed with a large amount of rubbery sealant. It’s missing just about every piece of the interior behind the front seats, the radio is held in place with pieces of wood, and nobody has any idea how many times the five-digit odometer has flipped over.
Under the hood, there is a tiny but loud three-cylinder engine, and it isn’t fuel-injected. It’s got a carburetor, which is an unremarkable and boring fact that I only mention because of what I named this series of articles. If you drive behind this sputtering mechanical creature with your window open, you will smell it, a very noticeable gasoline and exhaust smell that is reminiscent of an old lawnmower.
Since my brother is a poor college student who totaled his first car two years ago, this is his new car. He just came home from college, and when I took him to pick up the Sprint, we discovered that after being parked below a tree for the past week, it was covered in bird poop. Which, somehow, didn’t seem to change the image of the car much at all. It’s a hilarious little beater, but it works, and that’s what my brother needs.
But about my Golf…I have to at least include a couple pictures.