There’s a popular phrase: The heart wants what it wants. Most of us have done things for love (or lust) that we knew ahead of time were terrible ideas, but that we just couldn’t resist, from indulging in a rich dessert that’s guaranteed to cause indigestion to getting back together with a lunatic ex because the sparks still flew. The automotive world is of course full of imprudent temptations that you know full well would just strain your nerves and empty your bank account if you gave in — but for a few of them, you still would if you could. Here are two of mine.
Alfa Romeo Montreal
Take a Tipo 105 Giulia GTV platform, fit it with a racy all-aluminum DOHC 2,593 cc (158.2 cu. in.) V-8 derived from the Tipo 33, drape it in show-stopping Stilo Bertone concept car styling, and you have … a headache, most likely.
The great automotive writer Michael Lamm, who owned one for nine unhappy months in 2007–2008, described the Alfa Romeo Montreal in Chapter 14 of his 2012 “Unauthorized Auto-Biography” as “an intemperate ferret: aggressive, aggravating, high-strung, complicated and hard to live with.” Lamm’s car was in rough shape when he acquired it, and the mechanical complexity of the car and its SPICA injection system made it sorting it a nightmare. Lamm wasn’t impressed with the styling, which he called “clichéd,” or the performance, which he thought weak even when the injection and ignition systems were more or less in order. So, he gave up after less than a year, later calling the Montreal “my least favorite car.”
I still would — though maybe not in orange.
I freely admit that the Montreal has an abundance of nonfunctional styling gimmicks, the workmanship leaves much to be desired, and the customary Italian long-arms-short-legs driving position is awkward if you’re not built like Doc Savage’s ape-like assistant Monk Mayfair. The chassis wasn’t quite sorted, the brakes were heavy, the ZF five-speed gearbox was notchy, and it wasn’t outstandingly quick even with 200 PS DIN in a 2,900-lb car. (Autocar recorded 0–60 mph in 7.6 seconds, the quarter mile in 15.4 seconds, and 137 mph on top, while burning 101 RON super premium at an alarming rate of 12.4 miles to the U.S. gallon.) As Lamm found, the Montreal is also a pain to repair or maintain, and is full of minor annoyances.
But, but, but: The Montreal is also a dazzling showpiece, an exuberant Op-Art confection like something from a Jim Steranko Nick Fury, Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. comic book. When it’s running properly, the injected V-8 is one of the world’s most charismatic engines, burbling and growling rhapsodically in that intoxicating way that used to be the stock-in-trade of Italian cars. If the details were better-sorted, the Montreal would be completely irresistible even if it meant always having a vintage Alfa specialist on speed-dial — a car to make you look and feel like a rock star.
Paradoxically, that’s ultimately the real dissuader: Stylistically, the Montreal is a car for people who look like Milla Jovovich (and have Milla Jovovich money); if you don’t, there’s a very real risk of looking like a prat. Still — considered as an objet d’art, something to look at and listen to, the Montreal remains terribly tempting, for all its flaws.
Mazda FD RX-7
Not so very much different from the Montreal in size (it’s about 2 inches longer overall on a 3-inch longer wheelbase, but of about the same width and similar weight), the final Mazda RX-7 of the 1990s is significantly different in character. To my eyes, the 1992–2002 FD RX-7 still a knockout — lean, muscular, and purposeful — and it’s not nearly as frivolously indulgent as the Alfa. For the FD, Mazda trimmed something like 200 lb compared to the last FC RX-7, so the twin-turbo version, with 255 hp, was ferociously quick for the ’90s, and still respectably fast today. It’s also sharp-edged and responsive, with very strong brakes and bundles of grip, at least on a dry road. A serious driving machine.
The downsides, though: It was fragile (on early cars, even the paint was easily damaged). The twin-turbo 13B engine ran hot (tending to cook itself, its wiring and vacuum hoses, and the occupants). It was very thirsty, and it had some weak spots that need to be dealt with if you want to keep it healthy. (Allegedly — allegedly — the FD can be reasonably reliable if you upgrade a few problem areas and if you know how to know to properly maintain it, but do you really?) Also, as impressive as the RX-7’s dry-road performance can be, very sharp handling was a double-edged sword in the days before stability control, and wringing out an FD RX-7 without ending up sideways down a canyon or wrapped around a utility pole requires a non-trivial degree of driving skill.
There again is the weak link in the fantasy: I can’t drive like Keiichi Tsuchiya any more than I look like Milla Jovovich, and if I’m being even halfway honest, I have to concede that a new MX-5 Miata RF would have a much more viable fun-to-terror ratio while probably being far less hassle. (I talked myself out of buying an RX-8 years ago on a similar basis and don’t regret it.)
Even so, I wanted one of these awfully badly when they were new, and when I see an FD now, I can’t help thinking, “Aww, man, if only …”
So, the question for the group:
What’s a car you covet even though you know better?
It would have to be a ’59 Chevrolet Biscayne, the shape for me suits less trim than the Impala although I’d take a Bel Air at a push. The down sides are; price, these have become very expensive cars, crash protection, these are not sturdy cars, rust and of course more rust, these were not designed to be durable cars.
In the exotic category, it’d be a Lambo Espada, (partly because I can’t ever have that Marzal). And before the recent meteor rise in old car prices, they could even be called a very pricey toy, rather than the decent-house priced objects of today. A Citroen SM likewise, and likewise.
In the more likely world, I too would be getting a Series 2 or 3 Jag XJ. Every thing about it genuinely good, (except ownership, natch). In theory, it’d be a V12, though in practice, I’d balk and be quite happy with a six. Or, likely, quite unhappy with either.
Possibly, if a Jag wasn’t to be found, a Rover P6 3500 manual might have to do, though that’s the whole list of Brit cars right there. Oh, perhaps adding the exhaust note – nothing else, please – from a working Triumph Stag. Why on earth lever-arm damped, cart-sprung leak-fests like the Midget or MG-B’s appeal to anyone is beyond my ken.
A Montreal? Even for the reasons listed, no. If exotic, it’s got to be outstanding in some way, and isn’t. The Mazda always looked to me like a boiled sweet some kid spat out, and to find here that it’s unreliable means the kid had a point.
I concur with the Espada, SM, XJ (S3 only though), and P6. But I’d add add an SD1 Vanden Plas, and the entirety of the Stag to the list, as well as a lightly broken Range Rover of some description.
KAR 120C. Those of you who have eclectic tastes in television will know what I mean.
The one license plate I will always recognize.
My choice is totally influenced by past experience: A 1973 Chevrolet Vega GT, only this time with the optional interior and any color except silver with the black stripe.
Yes, my first modern car (first car was a 1937 Buick Special two door, but that was for AACA shows), and I have very fond memories of it despite wrecking it once, and three seasons of SCCA B-sedan autocross. It was actually reliable, although a lot of that was because it was traded-in on a 1976 Monza 2+2 at the three year point. And I could see the first wisps of oil burning coming out of the exhaust. I feel sorry for the second owner.
Alternatives: Rover P6, four cylinder version. Renault 5 (I test drove one with intention to purchase, it caught fire). Saab Sonnet III. Any Citroen DS/ID. No, I don’t have the nerve to even consider an SM.
Agree with so many of these. Two more I covet despite knowing better:
– Fiat Dino Coupe
– Iso Rivolta
Tell me I’m wrong, please.
My Aztek. The quirky looks, utility, and Pontiac name sold me back when they were introduced. Perfect to haul the baby, my wife and plenty of junk. Didn’t purchase one then due to the fact my father-in-law would have had a hard time fitting his size 14s between the B pillar and rear sear base to get in. Fast forward to 2022. The same things sold me on a low miles 2003 front wheel drive unit to replace my Accord. Not a ding or dent and a near perfect interior, but oh the hidden rust! No biggie, I fabricated panels, welded them in place and painted to match. Beautiful. Lower intake manifold gaskets replaced to fix over heating issue, tires, brakes, and bad front wheel hub replaced. Runs great for a few months and I start chasing a continuing engine temp fluctuation, leaks and such. I understand that a 20-year-old car needs fixin’ but at every turn, poor design fought me. Change the thermostat? First remove the throttle body/ & air filter housing-near impossible. Swapping the battery required removing a cross brace, fuse box and sidepost terminals with no room for any tool. Rear spark plugs? Forget it. Curious George couldn’t reach em’. Steering column had to be dropped to replace dash mounted head lamp switch Even after fully sorted, still rode poorly and creaked like a wooden boat over bumps. A NVH nightmare. Happily, sold it to another starry-eyed fool after full disclosure but I still love them.
93-97 Ford Probe GT
01-02 Mercury Cougar V6
Fiat 500 (1960s) or even better Autobianchi Bianchina Cabriolet.
1950 Studebaker Starlight Coupe
Tatra T77
Or more realistically a1964 Corvair Monza Convertible with 110 hp engine and 4 speed.
Here’s a few ‘unsaleable yet strangely appealing oddball cheapies’ discovered lurking and unloved, hidden deep in the back row of small used car yards in the early 1970s. The type of otherwise sale-proof bargain that for some reason you find seriously temping to buy, if not for hearing the whisper of providence. Yet which remain as lurkers in memory to haunt, as one of those now unanswerable ‘what ifs?’
Audi 100LS.
Morris Isis.
Jaguar Mk1 3.4 (rust).
Daimler Majestic Major SWB.
And from the ’80s a Triumph TR7, further blighted by a Dolomite Sprint engine.
I like the first generation Landrover Discovery, even though they all the reliability of a Series II Jaguar XJ6 and they rust, I also like the Jaguar XJ and the VW Phaeton, although knowing what I know about Piech era VW if I really want a V12 sedan I’ll buy a Toyota Century.
I also really want a hydropneumatic Citroen
Jaguar Mark 2
Alfa Romeo GTV from the early ’80s
Studebaker Hawk
Hudson Pickup from 1940s
Interesting question!
Maserati Bora’s kind of lovin’ is my kind of lovin’… almost.
Don’t know enough about exotics to know any better. Not many exotics really caught my desire to own. Yet, if I had to name one it would be one that I once rode in and was impressed. That car was a 1974 Guilia Nuova Super. New, but Alfa so would be far more nervous with that over time than with a current Porsche 911 like my father owned. In the end I would be happy with a first gen Shelby GT-350 or a 68 Cougar GT-E. The Cougar must be the 427 and not the 428.
Early 911 Porsche
Citroen SM. Needlessly complicated, notoriously unreliable, but oh so beautiful and unique.
Alfa Romeo GTV 3.0 from 98 to 2003. Drop dead gorgeous, but unreliable AF
I want several, but mostly an old B-body Mopar from the late 60’s. A Roadrunner, Super Bee, Charger, GTX, etc. 440 and an auto with an added overdrive, at minimum, and preferrably a 6.4 liter out of a present day Scat Pack, backed with the awesome ZF 8 speed automatic. But having drove these cars in their best first days, the awful brakes would need upgrading, and doing that that would invoke hating from unknown numbers of old geezers like me who would claim that the brakes were “fine”, and I was butchering the car with all the stuff I would do to it. No, they weren’t fine, not at all. All I would need is money to solve almost all it’s issues!
Next would be to get another ’77/78 Macho Power Wagon. My ’77, like this one, was a total POS. It caught on fire TWICE and I stupidly saved it. I should have let it burn, taken the check and bought the Chevy K10 I should have bought and almost did. No A/C in Vegas? I must have been drunk! Every weld on it was badly done, the wiring issues started almost from day one, and I spent huge bucks fixing it, even though I did a lot of the work myself. And the leaks, rear and front end, valve covers, intake manifold, front engine seal, they never stopped. That yellow paint is what sucked me in. I figure all these years later, the survivors must have the bugs out of them by now.
I’m a Mopar fan and there’s a few cars from their stench-of-death years in the late 70s/early 80s that I’d take risk with: a Dodge Mirada, a Diplomat coupe, an Imperial or a Dodge St Regis. I had a ’79 Volare and it was a good car so they weren’t all turds.
An early Vega coupe with a small block. There’s probably none left with their original engine anyway
An 80s BMW 6 series. As collector cars go, theyre affordable but theres no such thing as a cheap German car
An early Pantera. No explanation necessary