sigh Mine, of course, is base model... which means it has never cost much to insure, has always gotten surprisingly good gas mileage (30mpg on the freeway) and has always weighed a hair over 3000lb while comfortably seating two adults and a week's worth of luggage. I initially bought it because it could fit two duffel bags and a Pelican 1650, which I used to take everywhere because taking pictures involved 75lbs worth of gear. I got it because I was disgusted with the offerings in 2002 and did an informal poll of my friends to see what they saw me in. Over half of them (and I asked like 20 people) said "Dodge Stealth." They were incredibly right. The thing is awesome. If I could buy a 2016 Dodge Stealth I'd buy the shit out of it. Unfortunately there hasn't been a Stealth since '96 (or a 3000GT since '98) and outside of Maserati and Jaguar, there aren't any 2-door sports coupes that aren't throwbacks to the '70s. Well, there are, but... Hyundai? Gimme a break. BMW/Porsche/Audi? No thanks; I lived in Los Angeles and I never want to be associated with German car culture. I went as far as test-driving a Cadillac CTS Coupe. Know what? It rode a lot like a Cadillac. I may have to revisit that decision when I can find a dealer that isn't so viscerally repugnant but I suspect that "non-viscerally repugnant used Cadillac dealer" is a rare species indeed. For now? It's fine. I've put 120,000 miles on the car in 13 years. Mostly I ride motorcycles. We've got an '09 fit that does most of our driving duty; it has the advantage of fitting a car seat and an adult, as opposed to or an adult. The back seat on the Stealth is hilariously nonfunctional to the point where when I move it back far enough for my legs, I could look my daughter in the face. Rear-facing car-seats in that thing jut halfway into the front passenger compartment. And I'll have some sort of booster for the next presidential administration. It also has numerous advantages: - Costs nothing to insure - Costs little to maintain (now that Bosch no longer makes its parts - it went through 5 water pumps and 4 alternators because fuck Bosch) - Looks pretty goddamn good on the financial aid application for my daughter's preschool There will come a time when I can be a big enough asshole to support the assembly, care and feeding of a Factory Five GTM. At least, that's what I keep telling myself. It will still mostly only impress teenaged boys.
See, I feel like you've mentioned your Stealth before, but I was under the impression that it was a Dodge Shadow I now see how silly I was.
the last one I drove in didn't even have a radio in it - I'm not even sure a radio CAME in the base model car.
Oh, god. It's that awkward thing between the Omni and the Neon. I'd forgotten that era existed they were so loathsome. That awkward period between when everything was a K-car and when everything was a Mitsubishi. Nobody bought those - if you had to have a chrysler product at the time it was either a truck, a Ram Charger or a Daytona/Laser. All of which were terrible, but not as terrible as the Shadow/Sundance, which literally never made it onto the road in most places. I remember the Shelby CSX as being the indicator that Caroll Shelby was a money-grubbing whore because what the actual fuck.n 1966, Shelby created a special line of Shelby Mustangs for the Hertz car rental company. Shelby repeated this method in 1988 with the creation of the CSX-T for the Thrifty rental company. The CSX-T was only sold to Thrifty. All 1,001 units produced were white with grey and blue trim.
He was Iacocca's friend, who was head of Chrysler at the time. I'm sure he was trying to do him a solid. You know, at the risk of his own reputation. I can understand actually overseeing performance versions of vehicles, but letting your name be attached to cars you don't have anything to do with just sounds crazy. I remember the Shelby CSX as being the indicator that Caroll Shelby was a money-grubbing whore because what the actual fuck.
I love that there are cars that were SO BAD that you have some sort of trauma-related memory blank. Another friend of mine had a Dodge Aries wagon: by the time it died you had to enter through the passenger side door because the driver door's lock was fucked, it started with a screwdriver, and didn't put on the parking brake DEAR GOD DO NOT USE THE PARKING BRAKe because if you did it would refuse to un-parking brake. Which someone inevitably did, at which point it stayed in one spot for 3 months until it was set on fire by an ex-girlfriend (not that we could prove she did it). my friend had a new-to-them car by that point, so we lamented the loss of the Sleater Kinney, Yeah Yeah Yeahs and Relient K albums (the irony of the Relient K album was not lost on me) and moved on. RIP dodge aries.
My sister had that exact car, that color and everything. For an 18 year old in 1993, I'm sure it was a fun little car.
Oh man, if kleinbl00 actually had one of these as a DD, he'd have my never ending admiration for his tenacity and dedication in keeping it running. I'd also wonder what in his life drove him to act in such a crazy manner. Shit, for all his ragging on British sports cars for being mechanical nightmares, they'd probably be a peach to work on compared to these. At least you can still find parts for those.
What's that? Tell a shitty car story? Okay. So in high school I got it into my head that a TR-7 would be cool. This is literally the one I had - same awful orange, same horrible stripes, no sunroof - but I bought it out of a junkyard with no engine, an empty axle housing and only one front wheel for like $500. That's because (1) I fully intended to put a Buick 231 V-6 in it (an easy conversion) (2) I intended to build that 231 strong enough to warrant a Ford 9" (an incredibly difficult conversion) (3) there weren't a lot of Triumphs in New Mexico. I bought it out of the weirdest junkyard I've ever found; the only licensed Ferrari mechanic in the 4 corners area had a bizarre collection of strange and wonderful machines in various states of disrepair, including two Lotus Super 7s (not Caterhams), a Lotus Sprint, assorted MGs, a couple Abarths and, perpetually under repair, an Aston Martin Lagonda: Not that that's relevant, but you are now aware of the worst Aston Martin you've never heard of, so there's that. once the car was secured, the next step was of course the rear axle (which was a weekend-long adventure to procure, considering the junkyards were two hours away) and the engine, which came in the form of a non-running '77 Buick Skylark purchased out of the Little Nickel for $125. My father in his infinite wisdom decided it would be easier to determine what was wrong with the Skylark motor with it in the car than to just pull it and rebuild it. Famous last words. What was wrong with it was a miserable front main seal, which Buick had made out of wax-impregnated sisal fiber (because fuck Buick). This led us to discover that the oil pump had been installed backwards (because fuck Buick) which, once the radiator is out, is an easy fix. So then I had a fully functional Buick Skylark which I drove while in the process of outfitting a full-race Ford 9" rear axle on a Triumph TR-7, in the snow, under the trees, at 7,000 feet in New Mexico. The project stalled, as you might imagine. Engine swaps are challenging when you have cover, heat, and a reasonable home life. When you're exposed to the elements, taking 4 Honors classes and sleeping in cars because your home life is so dysfunctional you find such swaps challenging. But hey - I still had the Buick. Which didn't handle well. Which revealed itself in a characteristically-bad way when I blipped the car around an animal at 50mph, thereby causing the piece of shit to spin out and smash into a parked Volkswagen. My passenger ran home to change his pants. The parked Volkswagen drove away unscathed. The Buick had its driver rear door punched in a good 18 inches because that vehicle was such a piece of shit. My father, in his infinite wisdom, determined that the first remedy was to pull the dead door off. Which, a reciprocating saw, a come-along and a crowbar later, we did. We then discovered that the frame had bent at least 3/4" from the accident and a new door wouldn't fit. So January 1992 I had me a 3-door Buick as my daily driver. Meanwhile I'd decided to turn the 3.8L powered Triumph TR-7 street rod into a 4.3L powered Triumph TR-7 4x4. After all, I wanted a Jeep and my father, in his infinite wisdom, decided it wouldn't be too hard to shorten the frame down and put a Triumph on top of it. That's a whole 'nuther story. The important parts are (1) it is too hard (2) I did it anyway (3) It ended up with a 400CI full-roller V8 but it took until September 1994. During which time I was still driving the 3-door Buick. I also found somewhere to work - my grandparents' house, a mere 30 minute drive away - that had heat and an FM radio. So my life, for about 2 years, involved climbing into the 3-door Buick, listening to industrial music on tape, then spending 12 hours working on cars while listening to country music (thou shalt not touch the knob), then climbing back into the 3-door Buick and listening to industrial music on tape. I even drove clear to San Diego and back (to see Ministry, Sepultura and Helmet) in the 3-door buick. The plan had been to take a friend's car. I had 5 tickets. All 4 friends bailed on me. It snowed the entire way there. In addition to being a really shitty car to begin with, I had no appetite for improvement on it. I put used tires on it. They blew out regularly. I had that thing blow the right front on windy mountain roads twice in one day. It also had a brake proportioning valve with a screw loose or something, which didn't improve the already-shitty brake response. If you had to brake in a hurry there was a one-in-three chance that it would lock up the front left and rear right (causing it to veer right), a one-in-three chance it would lock up the front right and rear left (causing it to veer left), and a one-in-three chance it would lock up all four. I got good at panic-swerving - nothing to the left? Dive. Nothing to the right? Dive. Either side blocked? Well, hope his bumper is tougher than yours. I only rear-ended maybe three people, never hard enough to do any damage. Except, of course, to the Buick. It actually came up in a County Council meeting once. Some council member had an axe to grind against derelict vehicles. He walked up to the podium and presented a picture of my car (this was on Public Access) and said that something needed to be done about these unlicensed, undriveable vehicles. Someone piped in from the audience "no, there's a kid that drives that thing every day." Kind of derailed the presentation. I had a cop pull me over once for "improper condition of vehicle." Because it was Espanola, though, and because I was white, he backed down when I asked him what part of the code required doors. There isn't one in New Mexico. Had a deal with a local junk yard owner. We'd bring him cars, he'd give us parts. I drove that fucker into his lot a dozen times looking for 4x4 Triumph parts and every time he'd stare at the buick and say "that's going to be mine, soon." I never contradicted him. My dad hung onto it for a year after I left. I've never really known why. Inertia, I guess. But yeah. I put about 30,000 miles on a 3-door '77 Buick Skylark V-6 4-door sedan. In sleet, snow and dark of night. And in the end, I got away before it could kill me.
