Auction Time

There are times when I’m glad I’m not a Rich Bastard (a.k.a. Powerball winner) because I just know that after I’d bought a decent house, traveled a bit, bought a few guns (stop laughing) and settled down, I would undoubtedly get drawn into the world of car auctions.

So here’s this weekend’s “just suppose” game, assuming that your circumstances are as above.

You have several (hundreds of?) thousands of dollars that are burning a hole in yer wallet, and one day you come across this fiendish event.

Wait awhile to browse this page, while I outline what we’re going to be talking about today.

One of the things I like about events of this nature is the variety of stuff to be auctioned, because it takes away the usual “Which Ferrari would I pick?” question.  Here, you could indulge your taste not just for the exotic, but for the historic, eclectic, or even weird, e.g.:

And so, Gentle Readers, the only question to be asked is this:

In order of preference, which five cars or motorcycles would you bid on?

Remember, money is no object — we’re talking about scratching a lifelong itch, or checking off an item on Ye Olde Bucquette Lyste.  So go ahead and make your selections, and assume that all are in roadworthy condition and could be driven home, if need be.  You could decide on five supercars;  one supercar, two vintage and a weird car;  three saloon cars, a supercar and a one-of-a-kind car;  or a campervan, two sports cars and two motorcycles — whatever, the five choices are all yours.

(Note:  if you click on a car to read about it, you have to use the “Back” ( <– ) button to return to the main page.)

Starting on Monday, I’ll be revealing my five choices one at a time, one per day, with reasons.

Come Onnnn Powerball

Oh good grief.  Just when I thought I was over my Alfa Romeo infatuation comes this creature:

“Now Kim,”  you may well ask, “WTF were you thinking about — if Alfa Romeos are generally unreliable, pre-WWII Alfas practically define the genre!”

Aha.  But this isn’t  a pre-WWII Alfa.  To paraphrase the sales brochure:

Factory-approved recreation with 1968 Alfa Romeo Giulia underpinnings (1,570-cc inline four-cylinder; five-speed manual transmission).  Beautifully outfitted with retro-inspired aluminum coachwork by Zagato.  Finished in striking Rosso over Nero leather.

In other words, all you have to worry about is 1960s-era  Alfa unreliability.  That’s so  much better.

Anyway:  no airbags, no useless fucking doodads like lane change warnings, electrically-operated wing mirrors, and all that modern computerized shit that adds cost but not much else.

Like me, this Gran Sport is completely and utterly useless in today’s oh-so modern world.

I don’t care.  I’ll drive it, and die like a man.  With my pre-WWI gun strapped to my belt.

Want.

Little Beauty

Loyal Reader Dave S sends me this missive from his gun-filled bunker deep in in the wilds of The Old Dominion:

“In your quest for beautiful sports cars I’ve always wondered why you’ve never mentioned what is for me the epitome of the class, that unlike its British brethren runs, isn’t a mechanic’s hobby, and hasn’t lost itself in the American quest for Moar Power:  the Honda S2000.”

And it’s a damn good question, for which I have no answer except increasing senility.

The little S2000 was, I think, one of Honda’s best-ever cars, with a loyal and devoted fan base;  and to this day I cannot fathom why they stopped making them in 2009 — especially as Mazda still makes their Miata to this day,  to the delight of many.

I don’t accept that S2000 sales were anemic, by the way, if that’s given as the reason.  I think that S2000 was killed by the Dreaded Bean Counters (may they all sprout assholes in their elbows and shit in their food each time they reach for the salt).  These bloodless pencil-pushers looked at the numbers and decided that unless a car sells more than million units a year, it should be done away with.  “Why,”  they would exclaim, “should the mighty Honda corporation cater to a few fools who want to drive with the wind in their hair, when all said fools need to do is lower the windows of their Civics and Accords to get the same result?”  (Maybe it sounded better in the original Japanese.)

I’m not sure that’s what actually happened, but I’ll bet it’s closer to the truth than saying that Jeffrey Epstein committed hara-kiri.

Herewith a few more S2000 pics, to make up for my earlier omissions:

2008 Honda S2000

Fie on them.  If Honda still made this little beauty, I’d have it on the shortlist for New Wife’s next car, well ahead of the Miata or the Fiat 124 derivative.

And of course, this wouldn’t be the first time Honda discontinued a fine car for no apparent reason (NSX coff coff coff ).


Reader Dave sent me a pic of his own S2000, but the pic included his hot wife with her hair and clothing all windblown and tousled (no doubt because of a long trip taken in the Honda) so I used pics off the Innerwebs instead.  I’m old-fashioned that way.

Okay, Okay… You Win

After last weekend’s post about my “modern” dream car was roundly mocked in Comments, I’ve decided on my modern dream car — and it’s a 2020 model withal: the Mercedes Benz G550 Geländewagen:

Let’s recap:  it was originally a .dotmil truck, the civilian version of which was first released back in 1979, and has continued more or less unchanged ever since — the longest production model in Mercedes Benz’s history.  (I know:  the 1981 modifications added frilly stuff like automatic transmission and A/C, but that’s all water under the bridge now.)  So technically, the G-wagen is a 1980s car/truck which while modified over the years, has never relinquished its true ethos.  Try saying that  about any other car, I dare ya.

Tech specs for the 2020 model are:  a 4.0-liter twin-turbo V8 engine which delivers 416 horsepower / 450 ft-lbs torque, outrageous off-road capabilities, and fuel consumption which gives the Greens sleepless nights, largely because… wait for it… it wasn’t designed by some fucking wind tunnel sycophants.

It presses all my buttons:  a storied heritage, an unchanged appearance (why change it when you got it right first time?), massive power, virtual indestructibility, and political incorrectness.

And because I’m an Old Phartte (First Class), I love the interior luxury as well:

Finally, it has enough room to carry all the gun gear I’d ever want to:

Yeah I know:  the G550 costs over $130 grand (which, considering that the Maserati QP it replaced in my affections costs well over $160 grand, means I’d actually be saving money to spend on a new shotgun).   It’s not as roomy inside as, say, a Chevy Tahoe, but I don’t have to schlep teenage kids around anymore — it’s me and New Wife + guns/groceries for 99.99% of the time.  And yes, it’s a bit of a hassle to get into because of its high ground clearance —  hence the addition of retractable step rails (a 1990s modification).

And no:  I’m not interested in the souped-up AMG version because I don’t need the additional power and concomitant stiffer suspension/less comfortable ride.  I’ll leave that option to the Kim Kardashians of this world who seem to enjoy jiggling around.

I swear to you all:  if I win the stupid lottery in time, I’ll arrive at Boomershoot 2020 in one of these.  Just watch me.

Finalists

Loyal Readers will recall that I reported a shattered dream (in that my #1 Dream Car, the Maserati Quattroporte was decisively debunked by a guy from Maserati), and that later, I confessed to being unable to decide on a post-1970 car in this fantasy exercise.

Slowly but surely, my foggy brain and confused thoughts are starting to crystallize towards a car made after 1970 that I would love to drive for the rest of my life, and about three are starting to break away from the pack.

To nobody’s surprise, none of them are modern (21st-century) models — most modern cars are as ugly and overweight as Lena Dunham — and I flip the bird at all the “safety” and “economy” features that Gummint has mandated, all of which make driving as much fun as steering a sofa down the driveway, or less.  So my “modern” (post-1970) dream car is going to come from an earlier era, and only just ahead of the 1970 rule.

Anyway, here are the finalists, in no specific order of wanting:

 1) 1976 BMW 3.0 CSL (3-liter straight-6, 4-speed manual)

I love absolutely everything about this Beemer:  looks, performance, comfort, handling, the lot.  Unbelievably, this was a loaner (!!!) from a repair shop that was fixing my own BMW (see below), and I had it for three happy days…

 

 

2) 1986 Alfa Romeo GTV6 2.5 (2.5-liter V6)

I drove one of these once, on a long-ish trip, and the owner nearly didn’t get it back. What a beauty.

 

3) 1984 BMW 318i (with 5-speed manual) (This was the E20 generation which replaced the earlier 1800/2002 line.)

Alone among the cars featured today, I’ve actually owned  one of these — okay, it was a company car, shortly before I left South Africa — and I bitterly regretted having to exchange it for a 520 (POS) when I was promoted.  If I could have kept it, I’d still be driving it today.  It was no racer;  that little 1800cc four-banger wouldn’t stand a chance against the other cars listed, but I loved driving it.

 

4) 1985 Jaguar XJ6 Series 3 (4.2-liter straight-6)

If I wanted to eschew any kind of quickness and nimbleness in favor of pure, luxurious comfort, this model Jag would get my vote, every single day of the week.  And two  12-gallon fuel tanks.  But if I wanted something equally comfortable, but far more reliable:

 

5) 1976 Mercedes 350 SE (W116, 3.5-liter V8)

Zur

My Dad had one of these, we went on countless road trips in it, and I still think it’s one of the classiest-looking Merc sedans made since 1970.

Those are the finalists, so far.  I should also point out that as I posted each of these, I wanted it badly, until I posted the next one.  Looking back up the list, I would take any one of them, any day of the week, without looking back.