Car Lust

1986-1992 Saab 9000 Turbo

When Saab debuted the 9000 in 1986, it raised some eyebrows. It's not often that a car garners attention because of its normalcy; but such is the case when a noted oddball carmaker like Saab introduces a car so seemingly bone-stock conventional as the 9000.

Saab had always been known for cars with profiles that could best be described as quirky. From the early 92 and 95, to the swoopy Sonnetts, to the swollen and hunchbacked 99 and 900, Saabs looked different than normal cars and were seemingly proud of that fact. By contrast, the 9000 was clean and attractive but otherwise unremarkable by the standards of 1986. The aero headlights and the smoothly contoured sides were handsome and aerodynamic, but reminiscent of the ground-breaking Audi 5000 and Ford Taurus. Without the Saab grille and insignia, it would be difficult to identify the 9000 as a Saab--while the 900, on the other hand, showed its Saab heritage clearly and proudly. Only the five-door hatchback bodystyle betrayed Saab's quirky tendencies.

In another break from non-conformity, the 9000's platform was the result of a joint development effort with three other European carmakers. The 9000's chassis and, in some cases, body panels, were shared with the Alfa Romeo 164, Lancia Thema, and Fiat Croma. Sharing a platform with the likes of Alfa and Lancia doesn't exactly raise the spectre of awful and irrelevant clones like the Cadillac Cimmaron or Mercury Bobcat, but its conventionality was a bit worrying for this slavish Saab-ite. Had Saab sold out and built a bland every-car?

Nissan Cube

UPDATE: the U.S.-spec 2010 Cube has been unveiled--and it's the mirror image of the Japanese version.  Pictures here.

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Japan seems to be producing a lot of adorably quirky rectangles on wheels these days. Some, like the Honda Element and Scion xB, have become familiar here in the U.S., while others, such as the Suzuki Alto Works, are unknown to these shores.

The most interesting of all is the appropriately-named Nissan Cube. I first learned of the Cube by reading about it in Robert Cumberford's "By Design" column in Automobile magazine. That article focused on the Cube's styling, of course. But while the Cube is interesting for how it looks, that's not the only thing that makes it interesting.

The Car that Sten Built... a Volvo 740?

I want this car. THIS CAR! Not a car like it. This one. Why do I want this ordinary looking Volvo 740? Because this the car Sten built, and it is by no means ordinary.

Who's Sten? Sten was this crazy old Swede, an artiste-inventor, with an amazing sense of humor. Sten had been an engineer who worked for Volkswagen, but he liked Volvos. When Sten retired he had some time on his hands, and turned his attention to this Volvo as a project--or shall I say canvas.

If you are in or around Montreal and you think you have a fast car, be warned--this inconspicuous Volvo will pull the paint off of your very fast ride as it smokes you. Sten liked Volvos, but he also liked F-Body Camaros and Firebirds with a 5.7-liter V-8s and 6-speed manual transmissions. Perhaps you can see where this is going.

1955-1957 Chevrolet Nomad

In general I'm not a big fan of station wagons. This may be familial in origin, since my family never owned one, so I have no warm, fuzzy memories of riding in one as a child. Nor do I recall any of our circle of friends and family having one or ever even riding in one; such is the impression this type of vehicle made on me.

Nevertheless, in recent years a few of them--starting with the Dodge Magnum--have made me take a second look. One that got my motor going (pun gleefully intended) was the Chevy Nomad, specifically the 1955-57 version. Not only is it an incredibly handsome piece of machinery, but it was generally, if not spectacularly, unsuccessful. Thus, combined with its relative anonymity these days, the Nomad is a fantastic example of a beautiful and gloriously dysfunctional car lust.

Lark Wagonaire

Imagine a family "crossover" with third-row seating, an optional high-horsepower supercharged engine, and the load-carrying ability of a small pickup truck--and on top of all that, it's got the world's biggest sunroof! Impossible, you say? Well ...

Here's something for you to see, it's the swingingest wagon that'll ever be. You've never seen any car to compare with the brand new Lark Daytona Wagonaire!

1964 Plymouth Belvedere Wagon

Dad got our 1964 Plymouth Belvedere station wagon in 1965 or '66--he never bought new cars, always used. He and Mom drove the wheels off it until it disintegrated from rust in 1973 or '74.

The Belvedere wagon was about seventeen feet long. That's not hyperbole--it really was seventeen feet long. It was light brown (officially, "Medium Beige"), with a matching interior. The styling was nothing striking, but the straight lines and restrained trim did give it a certain blue-collar honesty, and I always liked how the rear quarter windows wrapped around to the tailgate.

It had an automatic transmission operated by a set of push-buttons on the far left end of the dashboard, which gave it a little touch of that mid-century Drive-the-Car-Of-Tomorrow-Today! vibe. Otherwise, it was a dead-conventional Detroit battleship: big V-8 (probably a 318), power steering, power brakes, leaf-spring live-axle rear end, vinyl bench seats, AM radio. It was comfortable, with a soft ride, but not flashy. No air conditioning, but it had triangular vent windows in the front doors--more of that blue-collar honesty, I suppose.

1978 Chevrolet Monza Wagon

At the end of the 1977 model year, GM discontinued the Chevrolet Vega. For 1978, the General would depend on the Vega-derived Monza to occupy the "compact" spot in the Chevy lineup. Needing a station wagon version to have a complete line, GM fitted leftover Vega wagon bodies with the "Monza S" front clip to produce the Monza Wagon.

I had one, and it was the worst car anyone in my family ever owned.

My father acquired it in 1980 from someone who worked at the Lordstown Assembly plant where it was built. The day Dad brought it home, we found an ice scraper in the glove box, an artifact of the previous owner. It was red, with a GM Assembly Division logo, and had a mysterious inscription: "GM LORDSTOWN MANAGEMENT TEAM - LET'S GET 150!"

It looked harmless enough. As late-1970s domestic cars go, the Monza Wagon was actually rather attractive.

Subaru Forester XT

I've never particularly liked the Subaru Forester. I can't really pinpoint why--after all, I'm an AMC Eagle acolyte, and the Forester is really nothing more than a latter-day Eagle. Like the Eagle, the Forester is a tall, gawky nerd of a car, with a tall forehead, a geeky chrome grin, and a complete lack of muscle. But also like the Eagle, the Forester is extraordinarily useful, with all-wheel-drive traction and the usefulness of a wagon. Both would make fantastic camping rides.

My general coolness towards the Forester might actually stem from Subaru's insistence on calling the Forester an SUV. It's clearly not an SUV, it's a station wagon. It's a car chassis and engine, with a wagon back. It might be taller and have all-wheel-drive, but it's a wagon. I also get annoyed when Subaru refers to its Legacy Outback as an SUV, but to the virtually identical Legacy as a car. I realize it's all marketing semantics, but I don't have much patience for automakers insulting our intelligence.

Whatever the reason, I've always respected the Forester but never really embraced it. Until, that is, the Forester XT debuted, at which point the addition of a turbocharger and some of Subaru's rally mojo created one of the most incredible sleepers the world has ever seen.

1973-1977 Chevrolet Malibu

The mid-1970s Chevrolet Chevelle Malibu lived in a no-man's land for Malibus, coming as it did after the legendary muscle-car Chevelles and Malibus of the late 1960s, and just before the popular ground-breaking Malibus that debuted in 1978. In that context, it's difficult to argue that the mid-1970s Malibus were anything other than gutless, tawdry, disappointing (and, to me, stunningly desirable) dinosaurs so typical of the era. In fact, I made that very point a few months ago in excoriating the Malibu's fancypants sibling, the adorably atrocious Chevelle Laguna Type S-3 454.

It is true that the mid-1970s Malibus were vastly less powerful and purposeful in line than their predecessors, yet bulkier, more wasteful, and more bloated than their successors. Big on the outside, small on the inside, and slow and floaty regardless of trim choice, even a fresh-off-the-showroom-floor 1973 Malibu would be a hopeless anachronism today.

Car Lust--Toyota Prius

In most car enthusiast circles, admitting affection for a Toyota Prius is like putting a "Kick Me" sign on your own back. While I like the Prius, I can understand the antipathy.

I've read an amusing description of the Prius that describes it as powered by a small gasoline engine, an electric motor, and its owners' smug sense of superiority. Fair or not, for many people who love cars, the Prius has become a symbol both of people who hate cars and of haughty environmental elitism. The Prius, as the most famous and visible hybrid, also takes a lot of the heat for the fact that hybrids often are overly expensive, complex, use lots of environmentally unfriendly batteries, and tend not to live up to their EPA mileage estimates. Given the fact that a decade-old Geo Metro can match the Prius' mileage without a massive environmentally unfriendly battery pack, there is a perception that hybrids (and, by association, the Prius) are more a symbol of environmentalism than a useful way to save gas.

Car Lust--Mazda Protege5

For the last two decades, two diminutive titans have towered over the rest of the compact car field, dominating sales, reputation, and mind share. Every friend of mine who has looked for a small car in the last decade has started their search by looking for a Honda Civic or Toyota Corolla, and for good reason--they tend to be durable, high-quality cars.

Overshadowed somewhat by this excellence has been Mazda's small cars, which have ranged from okay (the GLC) to amazing (the 323 GTX) to beautifully refined (the Protege). The Protege has long been one of my favorites; for quality transportation over the last decade, in my mind it has been more of a mentor in its class than a protege, leading the way in refinement, quality, and its driving dynamics.

Our Cars--1983 Chevrolet Malibu Wagon

I've been a bit quiet for the last few days because I wanted to spend the time I needed to get this one right. This car, and the car I'll be featuring tomorrow, are the two cars I've cared most about, and so I want to commemorate them correctly.

In early 2002 I had an empty parking spot, a need for semi-reliable transportation, and $1,500 of cash to spend. In my world, this is a rare and delicious situation ripe with promise.

I narrowed my search immediately to the rare, the strange, and the interesting. I test-drove a Saab 900 Turbo with a broken driver's seat--you had to hold yourself up with the steering wheel. I drove a Merkur XR4ti that still had a lot of punch despite spewing plumes of white smoke in its wake. I drove a first-generation Volkswagen GTI that had a steering wheel that smelled strongly of Cool Ranch Doritos. I looked at, but did not drive, a late-1970s BMW 320 that appeared to have a family of birds living in the engine compartment.

AMC Eagle

In last week's Jeep Wagoneer Car Lust, several commenters mentioned the AMC Eagle as another completely honest, totally rugged, wonderfully faithful vehicle. People, if you're looking for some appreciation for the Eagle, you've come to the right place.

Today, the AMC Eagle looks like an ungainly, unlovely, rolling anachronism, with indifferent build quality and a paucity of style and elegance. But what you have to remember is that, back when it was introduced in the early 1980s, the Eagle was an ungainly, unlovely, rolling anachronism with indifferent build quality and a paucity of style and elegance.

Peugeot 505

Most French cars of the 1980s and before were weirdly styled, horribly unreliable, slow, and possessed a combination of pillowy ride and freak-show interior ergonomics. This combination proved to be either immediately endearing or nausea-inducing to Americans.

The Citroen CX, for example, was such a car--my lust for that vehicle marks me as one of those unfortunates genetically predisposed to French cars. I'm hoping medical science finds some pharmacological help for me before I do something I regret.*

If it is at all possible for a French car to be in the American mainstream--and I'm not at all convinced that this possibility exists--then the Peugeot 505 was it. It replaced the typically strange 504, but set itself apart from the diverse oddness of other French cars.

Dodge Magnum SRT-8

Since I poked so much fun at Chrysler recently with the Inappropriately Named Chrysler Products series, I figure I'm overdue to feature an Appropriately Named Chrysler Product--the Dodge Magnum SRT-8.

Because full throttle easily transforms the Magnum into an explosive projective--one that in certain hands could be used in an anti-social fashion--I think the name is well-deserved.

Such was not the case with the previous Dodge Magnum covered in this space.

Despite Chrysler's recent upheaval, the automaker has been widely hailed for its leadership in returning traditional front-engine, rear-wheel-drive, V-8-powered large cars to the market. The focus of that attention has been the flashy gangster-ready Chrysler 300, the beefy Dodge Charger, or the upcoming muscle-car-revival Dodge Challenger.

Volvo 850 Turbo Wagon

For wagon enthusiasts like me, this decade has been a golden age in which a cornucopia of stylish, incredibly powerful wagons dot the streets--a Bacchanalian feast of wagon goodness, if you will, for every appetite. A Dodge Magnum Hemi satisfies the V-8 set, the Subaru WRX and Forester XT wagons fulfill the dreams of off-road rally wannabes, the Audi S4 wagon is available for fans of fast European cars, and there are many, many other interesting wagons to choose from.

Things were not always so.

Following the 1980s, a time in which the sports wagon concept began to germinate and blossom, the early 1990s were a fallow time. Wagons as a whole were passe--replaced in the American consciousness by the ubiquitous minivan and, soon, the family-oriented SUV.

In this dark time for sports wagons, however, enthusiasts looking for excitement had an unlikely hero-- Volvo. Yes, Volvo, the dour Swedish manufacturer of underpowered and boxy but eminently practical and safe sedans and wagons.

Audi 5000CS Turbo Quattro

In the early 1980s, a car buyer who wanted the space and practical packaging to transport a family in comfort had little choice but to buy a family sedan or a luxury sedan--complete with wheezing, gutless engines and, probably, spongy, wallowing suspensions.

If that buyer wanted effortless performance and a gratifying driving experience, a sports car was the only option, saddling the customer with cramped, impractical quarters, the fit-and-finish of a typical Happy Meal toy, and woeful reliability. If supreme traction in cold and wet conditions was essential, the options were limited to either a bizarre and slow Subaru, or a truck--which in those days meant dealing with a rough ride and spartan accommodations.

And regardless of vehicle class, there was a good chance that buyer would be dealing with loads of chrome, cheesy styling touches, and blocky designs that didn't cheat the wind so much as batter it into submission.

Citroen CX

                         
Today's Car Lust could not be more different than yesterday's; while the Dodge Charger is a blunt object of a muscle car, the Citroen CX is a smooth, slick, sophisticated tourer with a particularly Gallic spin on the curiously bulbous hunchbacked shape that is such a Car Lust favorite.

When it debuted in the mid-1970s, the CX, like the SM and DS before it, was a ground-breaking vehicle. Hugely technologically advanced, with fantastic aerodynamics for the time and with a funky and futuristic interior (check out the single-spoke steering wheel!), it thoroughly modernized the typical French quirkiness into an extremely compelling tourer.

The tiny engine compartment only allowed four-cylinder engines, so the CX wasn't exactly a sprinter. However, its advanced aerodynamics and long-legged nature made it an excellent top-speed cruiser for devouring the Continent. The traditional Citroen floaty ride came courtesy of a self-leveling hydro-pneumatic suspension which made for an excellent ride/handling compromise.

Chevrolet Malibu Maxx SS

Virtually everybody knows what a sedan is. Likewise with a coupe. There's not much mystery behind the identities of hatchbacks, wagons, fastbacks, and convertibles. But a Maxx? What gives?

In the context of the just-completed generation of Chevy Malibus (2004-2007), at least, the Maxx is a blurred mix of hatchback and wagon, generally looking like a four-door hatchback while providing most of the utility of a true wagon. In practice, it's a pretty nifty compromise.

Let me take a step back and provide some context before I get too deep, because I can already hear the derisive hooting. No, I haven't gone off the deep end--if anything, I've always been off the deep end.

The Malibu has long been one of Chevrolet's proudest models. The Malibus of the mid-1960s were stylish mid-size cars that are commonly collected and restored today, and were in fact joined at the hip with the legendary Chevelle muscle cars. Even in the dark days of the 1970s, Malibus were still solid family sedans and stylish coupes. In the late 1970s, the downsized Malibu was both a revolutionary step forward in terms of packaging as well as one of the last hurrahs of traditional rear-wheel-drive American sedans.

Dodge Colt Vista

            

    

This is one of my fiercest, most loyal, least logical automotive loves--and I'm sure this will be the Car Lust for which I take the most abuse.

It's hard to think of a vehicle more unpretentiously useful than the Dodge Colt Vista. With its mini-minivan profile, copious passenger space, massive cargo capacity, and optional all-wheel drive, the Vista was the leading member of the burgeoning "tall wagon" class in the late 1980s and early 1990s.

People pay big money today for crossover SUV/wagons such as the Chrysler Pacifica and Toyota Highlander, or for small SUVs like the Honda CR-V and Toyota RAV4; the Vista did everything those vehicles do, but well ahead of their time. It was a do-everything Swiss Army knife of a car that could handle virtually any task dished out to it. It drove nicely, coped easily with uneasy traction, and could haul everything necessary for a week-long expedition into the mountains.

Volkswagen Squareback

            

    

There's no particularly good reason to love Volkswagen Squarebacks. Their styling was dated even when they were new several decades ago, and they have more than a passing resemblance to the punch-line East German Trabant of the Iron Curtain era. Squarebacks were fundamentally Volkswagen Beetles under the skin, which means even when new, they were incredibly slow, horribly noisy, and absurdly dated.

So why do I want one so much?

My uncle, a slightly daft individual who used to ice-race perfectly good Volkswagen Rabbits--is probably to blame here. Whenever I visited him as a child to gape in awe at his model car collection, or peruse his car magazines, I would encounter in front of his house twin Volkswagen Squarebacks, both in some moderate state of disrepair. Somehow that led to this deep-seated passion.

Audi RS6 Plus Avant

            

    

I'm sure we've all heard the urban myth about the guy who, in the holy pursuit of ultimate acceleration, strapped a JATO rocket to the roof of his station wagon and promptly flattened himself against a canyon wall.

Obviously this man was foolish on many levels--and fictional, to boot--because if he was after ultimate acceleration, he would have been far better off procuring an Audi RS6 posthaste.

The RS6 is one of those rare machines that have no weaknesses--save price, anyway. Its immensely powerful twin-turbo 40-valve V-8 gives it the massive torque and high-end horsepower to bend the mind, blur reality, and give the impression that, rather than accelerating forwards, you've just driven off a cliff. But the Audi, thanks to the miracle of tenacious all-wheel-drive traction, is less likely than the JATO wagon to leave the driver spread all over the face of a canyon wall. And even if our thrill-seeker was accelerating uncontrollably towards a fiery demise, the Audi's aggressive yet subtle styling would ensure he'd look good doing it. The A6 Avant is already an attractive car, but there's something about that hunkered-down stance and those aggressive lower air intakes that make my right foot twitch uncontrollably.