Hafner's $2,500 Used Car Challenge, Part 2--The Evaluation
Hafner's $2,500 Used Car Challenge
Part 1--The Search
Part 2--The Evaluation
Part 3--Final Decision
Part 4--1986 Audi Coupe GT
Part 5--Life With My Car Lust
In Monday's installment, I described the circumstances of my search for a $2,500 occasional family car and the three finalists--a 1978 Fiat X1/9, a 1986 Audi Coupe GT, and a 1990 Saab 9000 Turbo. Today I'm going to describe the adventure of actually getting to know these three cars and the shocking turn the search took just as I thought it was over. Next I'll reveal the winner and discuss my life with my new personal Car Lust.
Evaluating the Contenders
After all of the initial work and research, I was ready to actually drive some cars. I picked a weekend, set up some appointments, and was on my way.
1978 Fiat X1/9
This Fiat was first on my list, but it was awkwardly located in southern Washington, two hours south of my home in Seattle. Some friends and I were planning on driving to Portland that weekend anyway, so I volunteered them to transport me to the Fiat and to wait while I checked it out.
A few logistical problems immediately cropped up. The seller was extremely responsive to my questions and had given me her address, but, despite multiple queries, she hadn't given me her phone number. Also, while the Fiat was relatively close to the freeway as the crow flies, it could only be reached by following a series of sinuous rural two-lane roads through pleasant farmland--a fact that I hadn't adequately researched or discussed with my friends.
This caused me some problems with my compatriots. The unexpected 20-minute drive from the freeway annoyed one friend, who had an appointment in Portland for which we were already late. The other friend is a city boy who breaks out in hives whenever confronted with rural America, so he was thrashing and mewling like a beaten animal as we drove through the pleasingly green pastoral landscape.
So it was with some relief that I spotted the silver X1/9 gleaming next to a barn on a llama farm. It was a striking sight; this tiny angular Fiat sports car looked as out-of-place as a spaceship in those bucolic surroundings. The only problem was that we were separated from the car by a power-operated gate; barking dogs were watching us for any sign that we would hop the fence. After a minute or two, nobody appeared at the door; I checked my phone, found that my contact had in fact sent me her phone number via e-mail in the previous half-hour, but of course at her house I had no cell service with which to call that number. I could feel my companions' discomfort and irritation waxing over the next few minutes of awkward waiting, but finally, thankfully, the seller appeared.
Once given access to the car, all of the annoyance dropped away--I fell deeply into the Fiat's thrall. I had seen X1/9s before, of course, but this time I was especially gobsmacked by its tiny proportions and designer styling. It had presence; and it was obviously in really good condition. The paint wasn't perfect, but it was very good for a 31-year-old car. The interior was fantastic, with new carpet, gorgeous upholstery, and all original and very clean. Not everything was perfect--there was some rust under the windshield and a few dents on the right side--but overall it was extremely clean. Even the front and rear trunks were pristine and rust-free.
I was even more impressed after chatting with the owner. She was only the second owner, and she had kept absolutely every maintenance record in a binder, along with the original owner's manual and even printouts of the X1/9's Wikipedia page. She had performed a great deal of mechanical maintenance, especially on the ignition system. She had meant to upgrade to electronic ignition; she wound up not completing the upgrade, but she still had the parts to include with the car. She also planned to include the original radio in its box.
So far, so good. If somebody is deranged enough to buy a 1970s Fiat, this is the perfect situation in which to do it--a well cared-for car, meticulously documented, sold by an engaged owner. Unfortunately, things quickly turned for the worse.
First, I was a little disappointed when I found the engine warm to the touch. I was hoping to get a feel for how the Fiat's carbureted engine started and ran when cold, but a warm engine would prevent me from experiencing its starting and idling idiosyncrasies. The cynical among us might even suggest that she warmed up the engine prior to our arrival to mask those issues. That impression was strengthened when she jumped behind the wheel to start the car and started cranking before I had a chance to do so.
Unfortunately, in her haste, she ruined my lovefest with her car. I was standing behind the Fiat, looking at the engine, when she yelled back at me, "So, do you know how to start carbureted cars?" I replied that I did, having learned the complex tap dance necessary to start my '83 Malibu, but after my reply I was transfixed with watching the gasoline cascade through the engine's transparent fuel filter.
The owner was pumping the throttle prior to starting the car, which wasn't really advisable with a warm engine. But she wasn't just pumping lightly; she was stomping at it like she was trying to kill a mouse hidden under the pedal. And then, of course, the car didn't start. She cranked, cranked, and cranked until the battery began to wilt, even as I told her that it was probably just flooded.
I felt awful for her; she was living through the nightmare car-selling experience, and I could see the utter dejection on her face. The funny thing is it didn't really deter me from the car that much; for one thing, I have a remarkably low IQ, or I wouldn't have been there in the first place. And after all, it's a 1970s Fiat; the occasional non-start is part of the experience, and everybody floods the carburetor once in awhile. The car obviously was capable of starting and running, or the engine wouldn't have been warm in the first place. If anything, I actually liked the car more after having seen it live, and I figured that if nothing else the unfortunate event would give me some negotiating leverage.
Still, it was a blow. We didn't have time to wait; I had already made my friend late for his appointment, and both friends were eager to get on our way. That left me without the chance to actually start and drive the car on this trip, and it's hard to be serious about buying a car without engaging in those activities.
Plus, the impracticalities of the Fiat, hitherto ignored, were becoming more real. For one thing, I'd need to actually drive the car before deciding to purchase it, which would require another trip to the remote location in southern Washington. For another, while I wasn't perturbed by the incident, my wife certainly would be. She is used to simply turning the key and driving away, and this episode certainly drove home the point that the X1/9 just isn't that car. My wife's concerns about the car's size and suitability for, say, transporting my daughter picking up the dry cleaning, had me thinking as well. The Fiat is just tiny.
So, with a lot on my mind, I left the gleaming X1/9 and its distraught owner with the promise that I'd check back in after my trip.
1990 Saab 9000 Turbo
As you'll recall from last time, I have always liked the 9000 Turbo's combination of high speed and cavernous and hatchback-accessible space; this example was alluring because it was in my price range, had some performance modifications, and was being sold by an extremely passionate Saab fanatic who called himself "Captain Kirk." It sounded like my kind of car.
Unfortunately, it wasn't--and I might as well disclose that up front as I explain that the pictures shown here aren't of the actual car; it's a similar car that was recently for sale in the Seattle area.
Things started promisingly enough. From a distance, the 9000 looked low-slung and grimly efficient--much the opposite of the cheery Fiat. When the seller emerged from his house, he gave off much of the air of a mad scientist or a possessed soul on the verge of speaking in tongues. He was barely able to contain his own energy; he had buggy eyes, rapid speech, and an immediately apparent encyclopedic knowledge of, and ardent love for, Saabs. I liked him immediately, though I kept expecting him to tear off his clothes and begin sprinting naked down the road.
Captain Kirk was selling his car, along with virtually everything else he owned, so that he could join his brother on an extended and indefinite spirit quest. He needed to sell the Saab so that he could help fund the trip and to fuel their quest vehicle, a large 1980s Ford Econoline van.
While the 9000 was impressive, the good captain didn't get his funding from me. He had obviously done a ton of work to the car, but it was completely different from what I would have done. For example, the car sported a large rear spoiler and a skull shift knob--not quite my taste.
I was intrigued by the performance add-ons--the captain had installed a new performance computer, pumped up the boost, added a pop-off valve, alcohol injection, and more--but the whole thing wound up turning me off. He had disconnected some of the systems to pass emissions, and the rest seemed really intimidating and unrefined for a guy as mechanically disinclined as I am. As an example, the pop-off valve wasn't sufficient to control all of the boost, so the driver needed to watch the boost needle like a hawk to avoid blowing the engine like a hand grenade. Um, yeah--it seems a bit unreasonable for me to scold my wife to watch the boost gauge when she's trying to merge.
I drove the car anyway, and it was certainly quick--though not amazingly so. And it just felt a bit unfinished. The complex and unrefined nature of the performance upgrades made the car 9000 seem like a big crap shoot, and there were other important components that had been neglected. For example, the electronic climate control system was haywire, meaning you couldn't control the velocity, temperature, or direction of the incoming air. That seemed like a problem to me.
The whole thing made me think of our Resto-Modding Round Table, in which I wrote that the problem with buying a car with wholesale modifications is that the car is no longer a blank slate upon which you can project your own vision. And in this case, while I liked the guy, I just didn't really care for the car built to his vision.
1986 Audi Coupe GT
Immediately after evaluating the Saab, I drove about 20 miles north to take a look at the 1986 Audi Coupe GT, a car that on paper slotted between my other two candidates in almost every way--speed, age, space, and practicality, for example.
By the time I fought through traffic, the sun was setting and twilight was beginning to fall. That's not the ideal time to evaluate a car--darkness hides issues that are more obvious during the day--but the Audi looked fantastic in the waning light. Compared to the heavily customized Saab, the Audi looked as if it had rolled right off the showroom floor. The original gunmetal gray paint gleamed dully in the darkening sky, and the black leather interior looked absolutely pristine. The dashboard and instrumentation looked brand new, and the original wheels shone forth in their 1980s glory.
A few issues were immediately obvious--the sunroof didn't anchor in the closed position, though the owner swore that it didn't leak. There were a few spots of rust on the driver's side A-pillar, and there were some faded spots on the paint. But overall it was impressively stock and original.
In fact, my biggest disappointment had more to do with my own ignorance than with the car itself. You see, I asked the owner to pop the hatchback; but he then gave me an odd look and popped the trunk instead. I say again, the trunk.
I'm not exaggerating to say that my entire world shifted on its axis. I had always imagined that the Audi Coupe GT, like my other most beloved 1980s sports coupes, the Saab 900 Turbo and Alfa Romeo GTV-6, had a commodious hatchback. After all, just look at that hatchback profile--everything about it says hatchback. The Coupe GT even has a rear windshield wiper, a feature most usually found on hatchbacks and wagons. But no--instead of a hatch, it has a small trunk, hinged at the bottom of the window.
This revelation almost caused me to throw up my arms and leave, but after a few seconds spent mastering my emotions, I jumped in the Audi and took it for a test drive. The car was cold, but it started up readily and didn't require any great feat of talent to keep running. According to the owner, the car never once refused to start--the beauty of the Audi CIS-E fuel injection and engine management system at work.
Compared to the Saab--and, probably, the Fiat--the Audi felt as rock solid as a Mercedes sedan. It drove nicely; its steering, brakes, suspension and engine all worked as one would expect, and it handled some nearby twisties with ease. A few things gave me a bit of concern--a really high clutch engagement point, a slightly sticky shirter, and the telltale buzz of a major exhaust leak--but the car drove really well. And then, on a beckoning straightaway, I dipped into the throttle and fell in love.
It's not that the Coupe GT accelerated like a rocket ship. It had decent torque, but with only 110 horsepower on tap the Audi didn't have the muscle to accelerate with the Saab or the modern sedans I'm used to driving. No, it wasn't the speed that entranced me--it was the sound. When it crested 4,000 RPM, that Audi five-cylinder began to moan and then bellow, with an odd harmonic reminiscent of a V-12 or a V-10. I have heard screaming four-cylinders and bellowing V-8s many, many times, but I had never heard that glorious five-cylinder moan before. I was instantly hooked.
The Audi certainly wasn't perfect. As I mentioned, it had an exhaust leak, slightly worrying gearbox/clutch behavior, the sunroof didn't seat, it smelled of old car (exhaust? oil? old seats?), and the owner was a young hot-rodder who had only owned the car briefly and didn't have any maintenance records at all. But it was very clean, original, and pretty--and it drove well. Combine that with my long-standing Audi Coupe lust, and, well, I had a decision on my hands.
The Decision
So there I was, torn between the Fiat X1/9 and the Audi Coupe GT. I had already fallen in love with the Fiat at the very beginning of the process; it had a clear puchase on my heart. But to buy the Fiat, I'd need to overcome a variety of difficulties--the distance and logistical hurdles, my wife's concerns about practicality, its suitability as a potential daily driver, and the psychological damage of having had it fail me before I even bought it.
Over the following few days I was beginning to lean towards the Audi, when I received a note that seemed to settle the issue. The Fiat owner wrote me to say that the X1/9's starting problem wasn't as simple as flooding and that she was taking it off the market until she got it fixed.
It was actually a relief. The decision was made, and I was free to begin my new life as a very happy Audi Coupe GT owner.
The Development That Changed Everything
That very evening I was buying dinner for my daughter when I received an e-mail from a woman who read my breathlessly enthusiastic Car Lust post lauding the 1986 Saab 900 SPG. In that post, I decalred my undying allegiance to the '86 SPG as my favorite car of all time, a car that, despite its extreme rarity, I had always dreamed of owning.
Well, as luck would have it, her retired father was selling his immaculate and beloved 1986 Saab 900 SPG and wondered if I might be interested. The attached photos revealed an SPG that looked absolutely perfect, with good paint, a straight body, even, amazingly, an uncracked dash. I have never, ever seen a 1986 SPG in this condition and assumed it would sell for something like $10-$12.
I wistfully looked at the photos of this wonderful SPG, chuckled wryly, and wrote back that I doubted I could afford it. Within minutes, she replied that the car was being offered for $3,500--only $1,000 above the top of my price range. And, what's more, the car was only five hours away from me, in Walla Walla, Wash.
With that, everything changed.
--Chris H.
Next--The Final Decision
Julian Santa-Rita on December 02, 2009 at 01:55 PM
YAY!
I cant wait for the rest!
these stories reminded me of trying to find a sporty convertible for my mother in law. I test drove an Alfa Romeo Spider that looked Aces until I drove it...after a few spirited minutes on the backwoods highway the throttle butterfly stuck open.
I spent the next miles going between neutral, in gear and killing the power to keep revs under the limit, while not going off the highway or getting rear ended.
I found a safe spot to engineless-ly roll to a stop, fixed the stuck butterfly with some moving of the cables back and forth, and drove it back to the dealership...
"no thanks, she'd kill herself in this."
Needless to say, she ended up with a well sorted vette instead of the little Killer Italian.
Anthony Cagle on December 02, 2009 at 02:25 PM
"I received an e-mail from a woman who read my breathlessly enthusiastic Car Lust post lauding the 1986 Saab 900 SPG."
You know, I once wrote about the '56-'57 Continental Mark II that I WOULD LOVE TO BUY FOR LIKE $3500.
I mean, if anybody out there wants to get rid of one. . . .
Ain't it strange how fate works? When I read the title of the first post I thought "He's GOT to find a Saab 900 somewhere."
kenny on December 02, 2009 at 02:30 PM
I test drove a late 80's Bertone example in the early 90's. A used car dealer in San Jose had a pretty clean black one.
I recall LOVING the handling, and never in my entire life hearing more squeaks and rattles in ANY car I have driven. I owned a 74 Pinto, a 75 Beetle convertible, and I drive the 87 Sprint/92 VW GTI now...so I have had experience with less than quiet interior qualities. This Bertone (with low miles mind you) was a chatter box from HELL.
Felt like a glove, but NOT built like one!
There is a mid to late 70's example, that is in pristine, rust free shape... in the SE Woodstock area of Portland. The owner is a mechanic and he went through the whole car.
It is PRETTY. Like a time machine, really.
Great post. Cool car. But I would probably have bad blood pressure on constant anxiety attacks if I owned one.
Cookie the Dog's Owner on December 02, 2009 at 03:04 PM
I understand that it's not all that hard (relatively speaking) to drop a Honda engine and transaxle into an X1/9's engine room. That would give you a 1970s Fiat that would start reliably every time and run as long as it had fuel.
David Colborne on December 02, 2009 at 03:33 PM
It's at times like these that I ask myself the following:
Why, oh why, do I not live in Seattle?!
Your choices were heck of a lot more compelling than mine, that's for sure. Gah.
Rob the Audi guy on December 02, 2009 at 04:32 PM
Awwwwww sheeeeaaattt. Chris, I always associate you with SPG, hence why I commented in the other thread about a low mileage SPG for sale in hemmings. Seems like the cosmic forces aligned if you and that car found each other. :)
David Drucker on December 02, 2009 at 05:38 PM
Chris, the picture of that SPG brought back a flood of memories -- flashbacks, really -- of road trips to Dead shows in my friend Tom's then-new black de-badged 900 Turbo. I sure do hope you buy the SPG.
Shawn on December 02, 2009 at 06:00 PM
In honor of our $2500 Challenges AND Top Gear naming Lancia the manufacturer of the largest quantity of 'Great Cars' this week, I present what could've been a contender: http://cgi.ebay.com/ebaymotors/Lancia-Beta-Zagato-1981-Lancia-Zagato-Clean-Low-Mileage-Time-Capsule_W0QQcmdZViewItemQQhashZitem3ca75ada95QQitemZ260505787029QQptZUSQ5fCarsQ5fTrucks
Sure, the Lancia Beta Zagato doesn't exactly qualify as one of their masterpieces, but somebody got a steal here! What a lusty car for just $21 over our target price.
...m... on December 02, 2009 at 08:32 PM
...funny, i pointed a 900 SPG seller chris' way just a couple of weeks before he posted the used car challenge - glad he appears to have found a good example as a final contender in his price range, regardless of whether or not it ended up being the final decision...
RocketRobinHood on December 02, 2009 at 10:13 PM
Great read, thanks for this.
I'm loving the X1/9's interior and upholstery, although I think I would alter the shifter boot. I can't help being repeatedly reminded by my brain that that is what I imagine a prolapsed colon would look like. (thanks brain! and kudos for the crap writing, brain, we're going to be pals, I know it.)
I'm digging on that Saab, too... memories of my dad's 1985(-ish) 5-speed 900 two-door. Hard to believe that beautiful, leather-clad, seriously sporty (to my 15 year-old eyes, accustomed to all my pals' used Chevettes, Horizons, Vegas, Darts, Comets, Matadors and used-up Beetles) European hatchback may now be worth only a couple grand. The fact that he sold it months before I got my license clearly shows why I thought I was the least-favourite child.
...m... on December 03, 2009 at 04:51 AM
...well, my favorites of the lot are the x1/9 and 900, better judgement be damned - for some reason audis have always felt soulless to me...
epilonious on December 03, 2009 at 05:34 AM
Loved the post, loved the twist at the end, and looking forward to the next one!
I can completely understand the feeling of expecting the Audi-coupe to be a hatch and then finding out it's only got a butt-flap. I'd be like "have you heard of anyone chopping the roof to make it a proper hatch?" just to make the seller think I was crazy and call off the sale...
kenny heggem on December 03, 2009 at 08:07 AM
or Cookie....one could get a 87 Toyota MR2 as well ; )
Cookie the Dog's Owner on December 03, 2009 at 12:26 PM
Kenny: If you have a "Mister Two," everybody around you knows you have a car with impressive performance. If you have an X1/9 with a properly hotted-up Honda drivetrain, they'll be snickering and taunting you with cries of "Fix it again, Tony!"--right up to the moment you open 'er up and blow their doors off.
Phil on December 03, 2009 at 12:33 PM
I had an X1/9 back in college, a bright yellow 1975. What a horrible little car. There was always something wrong with it, not little things either, big things that kept it in the driveway with me laying under it, tools in hand. It was a thing possesed, and I would chase the daemons till they settled in something annoying but non-crippling, like the latch for the rear hatch. I replaced every major system on the car. My girlfriend said that FIAT stood for "F" It And Thumb.
No one would buy the thing off me, and the mild steel tubes running the coolent from the mid engine to the radiator in the front rusted out, and since they are buried in the frame with no access I finally just scrapped the thing.
And stuck out my thumb.
CosmicConservative on December 03, 2009 at 01:03 PM
I for one hope your Saab 900 opportunity works out for you. I "fell in love" with an immaculate Audi A4 1.8 Turbo and have never regretted a car purchase more in my life. The car is an absolute joy to drive. It feels rock solid and the Quattro 4WD is as solid as anything I've ever driven in snow, ice and mud. It's roomy and has a large trunk.
But every time I take it in for maintenance, it ends up costing me at least a thousand dollars. The cup holder can't manage to hold anything heavier than a hummingbird. The glove compartment fell apart within a few months. The console could not deal with the weight of my arm and now angles like a ski slope. The wheels simply won't stay in alignment. It eats light bulbs like potato chips. Now the engine light has come on and the dealer tells me it needs a $3,000 new turbo unit.
This car has very nearly bankrupted me.
I would not own another Audi in this lifetime.
Johnthe SaabOwner on December 03, 2009 at 01:03 PM
First time poster. Thank Instapundit.
Go with the Saab. I've recently joined the cult of Saab and I must say it's enjoyable. Even though I own a GM Saab, there is enough Swedish DNA that I understand the lust for these cars. That SPG looks great.
Although the Fiat looks nice do you really wanted to be burdened with the X1/9's reliability? I had a college professor who had the throttle stuck in open at the same time the brakes refused to work. This was on a country road in the winter. He got lucky and, if I'm remembering correctly, once the car heated up enough the car eventually went back to normal.
Besides, you can fit the family in the Saab.
Seth on December 03, 2009 at 01:39 PM
wow, what an entertaining series! I wasn't gaga over any of the three finalist, but that Saab... I'm pullin for ya Chris!
tim on December 03, 2009 at 01:42 PM
I had an '88 9000 turbo, after four 900's earlier. If you didn't buy this SPG let me know and I'll buy it. Absolutely a great drive. NOT an appliance,but it will carry one. More like a mistress!
dennymack on December 03, 2009 at 02:23 PM
Nice cars, but how about mixing in a 91 Sentra SER with under 100K miles, good mechanicals, and only a leaky sunroof and lousy paint as negatives? Quick and reliable. Handles like my old Datsun 510, only with suspension.
It's just outside Portland.
Come on, you know you want it!
CheapSkate on December 03, 2009 at 04:43 PM
I bought a 1997 Ford Escort for $1500- add $300 for new tires. So far I am pleased with it.
Georg Felis on December 03, 2009 at 07:38 PM
I bought a 99 Ford Taurus that was used as a Government Vehicle. High milage, but regular maintenance, starts every time I turn the key, stops every time I hit the brake, holds an amazing amount of stuff. Only thing is you need to flush the cooling system every year or Bad Things will happen to the heater. And flush it several times (with force) if it won't heat.
kenny heggem on December 04, 2009 at 12:13 PM
Touche' Cookie...
Has anyone ever successfully massaged a 1.6 Toyota 16v into a X19?
Then, you have the litany of electrical issues anyway, so I guess the Toyota wiring would be a worthwhile consideration to boot.
roger on December 04, 2009 at 12:16 PM
I recently picked up a 1990 190e with 125K mi for $2250. It is very clean - and the engine is immaculate.
Michael Alexander on December 04, 2009 at 07:04 PM
Ha. That's funny about the Audi Coupe. I had the same "surprise" happen with one of my all time favorite cars, the Subaru SVX. You look at it and just know it is a hatchback. But when I went to test drive one a few years back, I was shocked... SHOCKED... when the salesman at the used car dealer popped the key in and opened perhaps the most tiny useless trunk I think I've ever seen. It was horrifying! What could that thing possibly be designed for! I play bass guitar and there is NO WAY it would fit in there. I'm not sure my backpack, emptied of some of my college books, would have gone in without some jiggering and twisting. I am, after so many years, finally over the shock, and I still would love to have an SVX. I will just have to have my bandmates haul around my gear!!! :-)