Editorial S-Turns

Cool Cars Loved and Lost

By Dave Getchell
PORSCHEFORME Editor

The reason I'm such a car phreak is all my Mom's brother's fault. Uncle Dave lived in Jackson Hole, and got me hooked on cars in the summer of 1971. He'd raced Pikes Peak in a third-hand Ford GT-40—not yet an automotive icon in those days, just another tired old race car.

Uncle Dave also drove a wicked black 911S, and miraculously was willing to let a skinny high-schooler from Maine get behind the wheel. Soon I was flying into a tight corner on some Wyoming dirt road, where I managed to spin the Porsche into the sagebrush--with him strapped into the passenger seat!

He just laughed and said, "Hey, Stirling, nice drive. Bet you can't get back on the road without stalling." He was right; I was shaking so bad my foot wouldn't stay on the clutch. This is how I learned you can't try to brake hard and turn hard at the same time.

Soon I was all lathered up to buy a '64 356C, a happy blue coupe with snappy red seats. "But Dad, it's only $1000," I tried. Dad said, "Buy that car, don't bother coming home." So I rode home on the bus, a formative trauma that triggered a lifetime of car craziness. Cool cars I've loved and lost since then:

71 Capri V6: Piloting this fastback German Ford taught me how to keep a vehicle with too much power and too little traction pointed in the correct general direction. Great fun, except that important pieces kept rusting off.

67 VW 21-Window Bus: My beloved "Wolfgang" was freedom incarnate: rock concerts, camping trips, ski adventures. A friend borrowed Wolfie, then called from the road: "Ah, the engine sounds like a machine gun. But don't worry, I only drove a few miles and pulled over." So ensued my first engine rebuild--in a Vermont woodshed.

74 BMW 2002: A girlfriend bought the Beemer new, and we pedaled it to bike races nationwide. The '02 displayed an amazing ability to cruise 90 mph without the engine--or passengers--breaking a sweat. After we split up, she drove it hard for another 10 years until the rear shock towers rotted out.

78 Saab 99 EMS: A terrific little tank of a car, so agile and predictable on squiggly roads. Sold it to my roommate, and the 99 saved his future wife's life when she T-boned a phone pole.

84 VW GTI: As soon as the original "hot hatch" came to America, a silver one found a home in my driveway. Briefly. Loved the close-ratio gearbox and rev-happy engine; hated the pogo-stick ride and dismal build quality. Within six months, I discovered turbochargers and dumped the Bunny.

80 Saab Turbo: “Ingemar” the black leather Swede had been my Saab mechanic's pet. Rally-prepped with variable boost, water injection, sport springs, Konis, and P6s, the car was addictively fast, but looked utterly ordinary on the outside--a low-profile perpetrator par excellence. Too bad how a couple of overheating episodes blew the engine. Peter the Swedish wrench surveyed the cylinder-head carnage and said, "Ooh, yah, you should-a had a inter-coolah."

86 Honda Civic Si: This arrest-me-red mini mite had a Mugen-ized motor, exhaust pipe big as a coffee can, and fat Yokohamas. Cornered like a skateboard, but rode like one, too. Unfortunately, the red Honda proved to be a much better ticket collector than a hot-rod Saab, though at least the engine never blew.

84 Mercedes 280CE: "Brigitte" was basically a German Camaro: a sleek Euro-model coupe with 195-hp twincam six and five-speed ZF stick. She was turned out in proper Deutsch style--lustrous Polar Silver paint, chrome everywhere, green wool interior and acres of walnut. Drove fantastic, built like a bank. My wife is still mad at me for selling the Benz to buy an old 911.

Car craziness refuses to die...anybody know of a 356 for sale? Gotta be a '64 blue C coupe, red leather seats…maybe from Wyoming?

Dave

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