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Wyldeman
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« Reply #9 on: February 07, 2009, 07:59:30 AM » |
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I found the artical you where talking about and pasted it here for others to read.
Side Glances
A guide to collectible sleepers of the lowest rank.
By Peter Egan, Editor-at-Large
June 2006
Just yesterday, one of my favorite classic-car magazines arrived in the mail, containing a list of "10 future collector cars you should buy now." Sitting back with my morning coffee and looking over the list, I was appalled to find it contained both an AMC Matador and a Chevrolet Chevette Diesel.
Well, not appalled. There's an element of offbeat good fun in stumbling across cars like these in your neighbor's backyard, but I can't see anyone actually "collecting" them on purpose. Still, I suppose this list was inevitable.
After all, we live in an age where car auctioneers are wringing seven figures out of old muscle cars that — let's face it — are, for the most part, indifferently constructed American sedans with big engines that allow them to spin sideways and smack fire hydrants, while delivering fuel mileage that makes a Hummer look like an Earth First plot against Exxon.
Not that I don't like these cars myself.
I, personally, would be willing to spend about $16,000 on, say, a nice 1968 Hemi-powered Dodge Charger, but when auction prices shoot past $100,000 my attention wanders, and I start thinking about the 1956 World Series or wondering if I left the coffee pot plugged in before we sold our last home. In 1990.
An MGA for $32,000? These are lovely cars, granted, and I've always liked them, but isn't that rather a lot for a car that my roommate in college bought for $650 because he couldn't afford a used Triumph motorcycle?
Anyway, you can see my point. As auction prices on genuine "blue chip" classics continue to climb, those of us without Ferrari GTB or Cobra money — indeed, without even Pinto money — will begin to look farther and farther downstream, as the crossbar is continually lowered until it's positively subterranean and only those with excavating equipment need apply.
Luckily for the readers of R&T, we have someone on the staff who is highly qualified to get the jump on the market and compile a sleeper list for the sad day when all those Matadors and Chevette Diesels have been snapped up, and that would be me.
Yes, as one who spent 10 years as a professional foreign car mechanic during the 1970s (a truly terrible era of car design) — and one who spends way too much money restoring the wrong cars for all sorts of shaky reasons — I believe I am uniquely positioned to reflect light on this short and badly soiled end of the automotive stick. As is my friend and former employer at Foreign Car Specialists, Chris Beebe, who owns about 50 really odd cars and helped me compile this shopping guide.
So here's a list of Next Wave sleeper collector cars that hardly anyone has ever sought. Until now. Remember, you saw it here first.
1. The Austin Marina. This car looked good on paper, as it was a simple, basic sedan with an MGB short block. Unfortunately, the head used a single Stromberg carb with an overly complex electric choke and smog plumbing and a distributor with severe built-in retard. These cars simply could not be made to run right, nor to produce anything recognizable as horsepower. Also, the single-rail gear selector fell apart and dropped into the transmission, and rear axle bearings failed. These very features, refined to the point of total debilitation, turned up later in the Triumph TR-7. I haven't seen a Marina anywhere in 30 years, so now must be the time to snap one up, before values skyrocket into the stratosphere, or even the biosphere.
2. The Sabra. This was a sports car made in Israel, with a fiberglass body and (Chris recalls) a Vauxhall Alexandria engine, named after a city whose library burned. The steering wheel was sawed in half to make the car feel more like a Beech Bonanza, and the raw tubular edges had rubber "chair feet" to protect the owner. I've seen and driven only one Sabra, and it was admittedly quite worn out, but the car almost defined the word "loose." Everything rattled, moved and shifted around. If you can find a Sabra, run, don't just shuffle morosely, to the bank.
3. Kaiser-Frazer. What do you do when tank production stops after World War II? Make more tanks! My dad bought a maroon 4-door Frazer (which is the first car I can remember) shortly after I was born in 1948, and Jay Leno has one that looks exactly like it, donated to his collection by an admirer who wanted it to have a good home. Maybe it's even our old car. My own nostalgia for one — and Jay's tacit approval — are bound to make these things almost unobtainable in the coming several decades or more.
4. Austin America. I hate to pick on Austin here, but these cars — intended as a slightly larger and more modern version of the original Mini — had all the problems (and then some) of a Mini, but without the good looks. Think about that. Our local Pizza Pit bought seven of them with automatic transmissions, and they all disintegrated in exactly six months. Yours could, too, with plenty of TLC. To avoid paying too much, look for one with a faded "Pizza Pit" on the door.
5. Rover 3500. My friend George Allez bought one of these and was then somewhat distressed when an identical car, painted gray, kept turning up as a staff car for the East German secret police on the TV series Mission Impossible. His car spent most of its time in the repair shop, and was then sold for a fraction of its purchase price. It's only a matter of time before Tom Cruise uses one of these in a Mission Impossible flashback and values go right through the basement ceiling.
6. Triumph TR-7. British Leyland made an all-too-common mistake here, thinking that "ugly" and "modern" were exactly the same concept, a misapprehension that has also haunted public architecture since the 1950s, when everyone read Ayn Rand. The doorstop styling might have been forgiven if the car had been screwed together better and differentials hadn't failed at low mileage. They also shared the Marina plague of transmission and axle bearing ills. Still, they handled okay, so these cars may be out of our bottom-feeder price level. What I do in this case is find a fatally rusty example and laugh all the way to the bank, if I get that far. Look for a car where the left front tire rubs on your clutch foot.
7. Pontiac Aztek. There's still time. There will always be time. Well, maybe not. It's possible a new-generation Dana Carvey and Mike Myers are being born right now and will do for the Aztek what they did for the Pacer in Wayne's World. Remember, ugly stuff always comes around again, while beauty seems impossible to recapture.
8. Datsun 210. These cars were pretty good in most of the country — simple, serviceable and reasonably lively. The California smogged version of 1980, however, was slow almost beyond belief. Barb and I unsuspectingly bought one as a new car when we moved to the Golden State. Pulling out onto the highway, you'd shift the Datsun up into 3rd gear and it would actually go slower. Depressing the throttle had exactly the same effect as dangling a donkey in front of a carrot. Anyway, the sleeper model of this car is the California version. Don't be fooled into buying the high-performance 49-state job, which makes literally dozens of horsepower and is way out of our price range here.
9. Fiat 850 Spider. I know a lot of people who liked these cars and claim that Fiat always gave you a lot of value for the money. Well, so do chorus girls, but they don't rust out. I worked on these cars as a mechanic and have not forgotten, even though I can't remember where I put my glasses or who directed La Strada. The basic driveline was pretty stout, but there were chronic problems with kingpins and axles. And rust. I can't help feeling they belong in any comprehensive list of sleepers a person such as myself should be able to afford, in a just world where no individual is discriminated against just because he has poor financial skills.
10. A Renault anything. Take your pick, from Dauphine to Alliance. "These cars seemed to work okay in France," Chris told me, "but something happened to the metallurgy when they crossed the Atlantic. Also the Great Lakes…and the Wisconsin River…God help you if you lived west of the Mississippi." Chris bought a new LeCar on a cold winter day and it wouldn't start the next morning. When he attempted to open the hood to spray some starter fluid into the air cleaner, the hood release, hood handle and wing nut for the air cleaner all broke off in his hand. Other Renaults? "The Dauphine had a plastic reverse gear that always failed," he said, "and you couldn't jack up the Caravelle without all the doors closed or you'd twist the chassis." Most of these cars have disappeared now, but the wise shopper might still be able to find an Alliance rotting behind an old building somewhere, just waiting to accrue unanticipated future collector value beyond anyone's wildest dreams.
There are many, many more I could mention, but I want to do some scouting and see if I can find cheap examples before I start a stampede of savvy collectors like myself. Good luck.
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