I love driving cars. I always have. And I don’t just mean cars that are rewarding on twisty back roads, but all kinds. You see, I suffer from a kind of automotive ADHD, which requires that I experience driving as many different cars as possible, just to experience that indescribable subjective feel that seems unique to every model. I have enjoyed almost all of them, for one reason or another. There is only one that stands out as a the one that I simply despised every time I got behind the wheel – my college roommate’s ’62 Chevy Bel Air.
My college best friend Dan came from a family that teemed with interesting wheels. His father’s Mopars were new experiences for me, as were the International Travelall and Scout. Added to my father’s tendency towards big FoMoCo stuff and my mother’s family’s stable of late model GM cars, my early driving experience was pretty varied.
In the summer of 1980, Dan told me his father had been in for a haircut and learned that the barber had bought an old car from an elderly customer who had given up driving. It was a white 1962 Chevy Bel Air two door sedan with maybe 80,000 miles on it. The car was exceptionally clean and had clearly been well cared for during its long life. He bought it from the barber for maybe $600 with the idea that Dan would drive it.
Dan needed a car because his ’71 Duster had just gone away. It was a car purchase which I had aided and abetted, but should not have. If cars had the same kind of “life remaining” indicator that cell phone batteries have today, this Duster’s would have been flashing a red 3% the day he got it.
The Chevy was a good car – for Dan. Me? I absolutely friggin despised the thing. Perhaps I should start by reporting that I had only recently let go of a 1959 Plymouth Fury sedan, a car three years older and in about the same condition. The Plymouth drove very much like the late ’60s domestic iron that I was used to. The Chevy was (as we say in Indiana) a whole nuther thing.
First it was the driving position. As I would ooze into a seat with all the support of a bowl of Jello, I sat very, very low in the car. If that wasn’t bad enough, the steering column and steering wheel were really, really high. I felt like a 5th grader behind the wheel every time, as 5’11” me tried to scootch and hike myself up in the seat. I also understood why every little old lady I had ever seen piloting one of these was peering out between the steering wheel and the dash – there was no way anyone under, say, 5’8″ could comfortably see over the steering wheel without a big damned pillow to sit on.
Next came the steering. It would be awhile yet before Chevrolet would invest in a decent power steering system that integrated the power assist into the steering gear. My ’59 Fury was (like almost every other power steering car I had ever driven) set up for a steering ratio that took four complete spins of the wheel to get from full left to full right. The Chevy took six. Think about that, you young folks. A tight parking lot maneuver that requires full steering travel? Close your eyes and start counting the spins . . . 1 . . . 2 . . . 3 . . . 4 . . . 5 . . . 6. This was a car with power steering! I was surprised that the steering wheel lacked those big pegs that any decent schooner should have.
During one of the high-level editorial conferences that we have here at CC, it was pointed out to me that Chevy’s factory power steering used a slightly faster steering gear which provided a sports car-like five turns of the wheel. Some further research makes me suspect that Dan’s Bel Air might have been built as a manual steering car with the slower steering gear (and, according to one source, a two inch larger steering wheel) and that Chevrolet’s highly advanced external assist power steering system was bolted on at some point by the dealer. The happy result being all of the disadvantages of slow manual steering and of numb power steering, conveniently combined in one (not terribly delightful) package. So, in fairness, the Bel Air’s steering may not have been representative of the entire breed. But Dan’s father didn’t find some other ’62 Chevy. And the one he did find had the least pleasant power steering I have ever experienced.
Next came the suspension. Admittedly, my Fury’s torsion bars and leaves were ahead of the curve for an American 1959 car, but the Chevy felt like a 1952 instead of a 1962. Loose, floaty, and body roll that made you physically lean into a turn like a motorcyclist. I think sailors call it “hiking”, where you need lean over from the high side of a sailboat so that your body weight can keep the boat from rolling in the opposite direction. I guess this near-barrel roll maneuver was what they meant by “Jet Smooth”. And smooth it indeed was, unless you hit railroad tracks or a pothole, which made the structure shake and judder more than seemed right.
Finally, there was the combo of the 235 cubic inch Blue Flame Six bolted to the venerable Powerglide. It always started, ran and shifted, but once again, I felt like I had regressed to the early 1950s. The car was slow, slow, slow. But it made up for it by being unresponsive with that 2 speed automatic. What could have been charming in a car from early in the Eisenhower Administration was much less so in a car out of the Camelot years. However much a rev-happy 283 or 327 might have worked with that tranny, the old Blue Flame (which did not even have a full flow oil filter) simply begged for a three speed with a clutch pedal. Of course, adding a manual column shift to the wild gyrations required to steer the thing would have made for an exercise program that could sell DVDs in large numbers on late night television.
So, there it is. It was a good car, an attractive car, and Chevrolet sold a bazillion of them. But it was the single most miserable thing I have ever had the misfortune to operate. Even today, some thirty five years later, I cannot look at a 1961-64 Chevrolet without reliving the sensation of windmilling the steering wheel while leaning sideways with six little blue flames fighting a losing battle against a Powerglide. No wonder so many people drank and drove back then.
But enough about me. Tell us about the car that you have hated driving more than any of the others, and what made you hate it so much.
Datsun F10.
Like your dad, I hated my (bought new) 1971 Duster. One run through a not very deep puddle and I had no brakes at all (drums all around). I tried to ride the brakes in very wet conditions to keep them dry but that did not help much.
And the 225 slant 6 that everyone says was indestructible. The exhaust manifold cracked within 2 years.
And the rear differential started making howling noises just around the time the manifold cracked.
ChryCo, fool me once, shame on you. Fool me what, three or four times and counting, shame on me.
2001 BMW X5 – V8. Mine was the actual LA Show car. It had prototype wheel cladding and front/rear bumper treatments. Without a doubt, it was the bumpiest, most harsh and unreliable car that I have ever owned or heard of. I hope it went to the crusher by now.
Umm, so I am not alone about first gen X5. I test drove it and found similar bumpy and harsh ride, resulting in trading in an 8th gen suburban for a 9th gen suburban.
No, you’re not. My partner’s was not only harsh riding, but the interior materials seemed to be wearing out very quickly during the 36,000 miles that it was leased.
I am torn between a 1999 Chevy Venture, a 2012 Chevy Impala, and a 2014 Smart For two. The Venture is just a sad sack, but at least the seat is comfy plus it served its purpose as a Drivers’ Ed vehicle, the Impala’s lack of leg support for the backs of my upper legs was easily fixed with a pillow. The Smart is the winner by far since the acceleration feels like riding a buoy on a choppy bay, the car cannot tolerate rough roads, and my back hurts after 100 or so miles from the dang seat. I could go on and on.
IIRC, Consumer Reports called the Smart ‘the worst car they ever tested’.
My coworker bought a Smart all-electric model. It combines all the spaciousness, road handling and comfort of the Smart car with a 65 mile range. And there’s no fast chargers for these our on the road. You get 65 miles then you need an all-night charge.
IMHO the electric Smart car takes a prize for the worst, most useless car available.
Worse than the Subaru 360? They rated that one Not Acceptable back in the day.
If you don’t count a rental Ford moving truck with the heaviest clutch I’ve ever driven, inept brakes and no power steering, it would be a tie between a friend’s Mustang II Ghia, V6 automatic notchback, only about 7 or 8 years old but in decrepit condition, and an almost-new rental Cavalier, the last model year before being replaced by the Cobalt. The two most disappointing new cars I ever test drove were the original 1983 GTI and the first version of the WRX imported into the US. Two cars which I fantasized about when they were unobtanium here, but quickly realized my actual driving tastes were very different.
’78 Diesel Volkswagen Rabbit. Not sure if it was because the engine was tired, the tranny was shot or the thing was just deafening to drive. My friend couldn’t understand why his wife hated driving it.
This, only the pickup. Pulling into highway traffic was a life – threatening experience
None. I am not spoiled. The worst ride is far better than the best walk.
I agree. I’ve certainly liked some cars better than others, but I’ve always enjoyed trying out different ones. My first car in the early 90’s was a ’60 Bel-Air (my avatar) with 235 and three in the tree. To this day I find difficult to drive cars more of a fun challenge than a frustration. I can’t think of one that I really truly hated driving.
For me the hate comes over time. A miserable car is okay for a few days. But week after week of awfulness wears one’s patience thin. One dreads driving it and, if you are like me, you start having fantasies about car theft or catastrophic breakdown so one has an excuse to buy something else.
I will agree with that. Some were just more challenging to drive than others. The ones that come instantly to mind are a1950 Chev PU in which you had to move the steering wheel more than 14 turn to have any effect on your course, a 1963 Rambler with no reverse(had to choose parking spaces carefully)and used a quart of oil every 100 miles and a 1956 Chevrolet that the 3 spd column linkage was always getting locked up. Of course these problems are probably related to the fact the total amount of money spent for all three was less than $100.00 during the 1971-75 time frame. Honorable mention goes to my 1962 Ford Fairlane SW that the 3spd manual floor shift had a reverse H pattern, which today would be considered a theft deterrent.
I’ve said it before, my 1979 Honda Accord. Driveability with sags and surges, transmission synchronizers which were rapidly wearing out; a handsome 3 door hatch with a miserable driving experience.
My recently disposed 2001 S10 was no fun either, slow as molasses with lazy transmission synchronizers. It was nowhere near the penalty box the Accord was, however.
I also had a 1989 Accord, with an injected 2.0 (they also came carbureted). The engine lacked significant torque below about 3000 rpm, or any torque below about 2000. Launching required a lot of clutch slippage, and if not done just right, lots of clutch chatter and cowl shake. Lousy brakes, always warping rotors. Exhaust rotted out every couple of years. Seats were firm but flat, not very comfortable. Too-low driving position. The engine did have a sweet sound, as if unbreakable, when run hard, but the chassis flex and crappy brakes didn’t encourage speed. After it had been sold on twice & I lost track of it, it had about 350,000 miles on it.
Its replacement, a 2001 Sentra 1.8, has a higher and very comfortable seat, good brakes, and a torquey engine and unfussy clutch that give drama-free launches from standstill. It requires a lot less effort for normal driving around than did the Accord, while still having decent performance. So, the lowly 01 Sentra bests the 89 Accord, for me.
+1 on the Accord chassis flex – mine was an ’86, it was simply awful in corners, feeling like it was twisting lengthways…
2006 Chevrolet Equinox AWD – 3400 V6.
Part of the school district fleet and assigned to the department I was in during the two years I worked at central office.
1. Seats I could never get comfortable in due to the lack of lumbar adjustment.
2. Terrible wind noise due to passenger side weather stripping that had never been correctly installed at the factory or fixed by the dealer or motor pool.
3. Engine that needed about 50 to 100 more hp for the brick that it was attached to. Merging onto the interstate at a clip that allowed you to flow into traffic would point the tach to a place where you swore the engine would blow up (5,000 plus RPM)
4. AWD but I could always spin the tires when say only the front wheels where on ice.
5. AC that couldn’t keep up with a 90 degree low humidity day in NM with ONE person in the car.
6. Why in god’s name where the power window switches on the console?
7. At 30,000 miles the tire pressure sensors were already malfunctioning
You couldn’t give me a 1st generation Equinox for free.
I can attest, my parents got a 2005 Equinox to replace the 96 Blazer I had as a kid. I don’t remember that car nearly as fondly as the Blazer, especially with the A/C being as miserable as it was. That car was kept for 10 years, by which point it looked like hell, the transmission was constantly slipping, and it was miserable. My sister inherited the car before it got wrecked last year, putting an end to the Giant Gold Cockroach of the Road. It’s true what they say, American cars will run like shit longer than most cars will run at all.
In a fit of irony both my in-laws and my parents own 2009 Pontiac Torrents. Both are more pleasant places to spend time given their higher trim levels but the interior (leather) is wearing out much more quickly than it should in my parents vehicle (dad is meticulous about how he cares for cars) and my Mother-in-law is using a quart of oil between changes. Her’s has always been dealer serviced and oil changes have been done according to the oil life monitor.
1979 Chevrolet Monza Kammback. Built it up as a sport wagon: V-6, five speed, suspension option, biggest tyres available. First off, at delivery, I find out that GM decided to quit making the full instrumentation option (aka, what came in the Monza 2+2) available with the V-6. Fours and eights only.
Then it had carburetor trouble, on a couple of times almost refusing to start (this is with less than 300 miles on the car). Once that was fixed, the paint on the lower sides peeled off during the winter of ’78-79. Once that was repainted, I put up with all other classic problems that drove GM’s customers away during this period.
It wasn’t all bad. When it ran, it was one hell of a back road bomber. This being my third Vega/Monza in a row (the Vega was good, the Monza 2+2 was very good), I had learned how to pick down the options list – even if GM wanted to short me on it.
Oh yeah, during the build process, the dealer gets notified that GM doesn’t want to do manuals with the V-6 anymore, automatics only. I threatened to cancel the entire order it arrived with an automatic. Guess that’s why I wasn’t overly surprised to end up with the cheap strip speedometer instead of the speedo/tach/minor gauges I had ordered.
Kept it for three years, traded it in on an ’82 Dodge Omni (my first automatic – wife couldn’t drive a stick and had absolutely no interest in learning, she hated to drive anyway), and that was the last Chevrolet saw of me for the next twenty years.
And upon rereading this, I guess I didn’t hate driving it; I hated owning it.
I learned to drive on a ’62 Chevy Bel-Air wagon. 283 & Glide. No power steering or brakes. I LOVED THAT CAR!!! It took me so many places, some I should have been, and was rock solid. Red with a white top, white walls, wheel covers and a radio. I wish I could find on that hasn’t been eaten up by the tin worms.
Austin Montego with a broken electric window which made for a very cold drive from London to Manchester in February.Closely followed by an automatic Nissan Micra, fortunately they were both hire cars and I could give them back.
I hear you re the Montego Gem… A good friend had a MG-badged Montego 2.0 Si back in the early 90s. I drove it a couple times and it had by far the worst steering of any car I’ve ever driven. On normal cars going around bends, turning the steering wheel smoothly results in the car turning in a linear fashion. Not so the Montego, smoothly turning its wheel resulted in a jerky and completely non-linear directional change. Rather than go around a bend in a large smooth arc, the Montego would transcribe a series of small, unrelated arcs… My friend went as far as having the steering rack looked at, but the BL mechanic said nope, nothing wrong with it, it was meant to be like that…
I found the steering like you said, it also had uncomfortable seats and was generally badly built. It’s a long time since I saw one
I’ve driven hundreds of different cars but the worst by far was the 1984 Fiero SM4 that I drove back when they were new. The low, uncomfortable seating position and super heavy steering were what you noticed first. How the heck could something with no engine in front have such heavy steering?
Getting it out on the road made matters worse, far worse. These had the Iron Duke which I guess with an A/T wasn’t so bad. But put it in a mid-engined car with manual trans and you learn real quick about NVH in a large displacement, pushrod four. It was one of those cars that actually slowed down the longer you kept it in a gear. There was absolutely no reason for a tachometer.
Then there was that noise. Like a vacuum cleaner combined with a garbage disposal right behind your head. The only way to avoid that was to short-shift into the next highest gear as soon as possible. Unfortunately the gear change was as miserable as the seating position and for maybe the first time ever I was glad that there were only four speeds in the M/T.
You might say yeah but it was an entirely new layout for GM and you drove a first year car. I thought that too until I drove the 1985 Toyota MR2 a year later, which couldn’t have been more different in execution and appeal right out of the box.
Seconded. I drove a friend’s ’84 Fiero from Columbia, MO to Terre Haute, IN, in the middle of the night once. Gawdawful.
I dunno…kind of enjoy driving my ’88 Fiero notchie…granted, the 4 cylinder won’t break any speed records, but it is kind of fun to drive fast on twisties.
The ’88 was a vastly improved model over previous years. GM reworked the suspension and steering, and lots of details. The ’88 Fieros are much more desirable for this reason.
Yes, its infuriating GM finally fixed the Fiero’s problems, only to cease production less than a year later.
I owned an ’84 Fiero. It was in excellent shape except for a blown clutch. I bought it at auction for $160. Only afterwards did I find out how difficult replacing the clutch was. I sold it to a buddy for $400. He had it for a year then (no kidding) sold it to a movie production company. Their special-effects crew blew it up on-screen.
So, if you ever see a black Fiero blown up on a B-grade flick filmed in Toronto in 1998, its mine.
As much as I hate to agree with you, I do. My first Fiero was an ’84 SE with the Iron Duke…a powerplant very aptly described by Paul as “agricultural”. These engines are perfect for those little postal jeeps and actually have served me well…in 6000 sedans, Cieras, Centuries, & Celebrities.
Add a 4.11 final drive ratio 4-speed manual with awful cable-actuated shifter to this non-rev-happy engine and you have one kind of miserable driving experience. My poor car tached 3000 rpm at 62 mph and I think the redline was only 1500 rpm above that.
For some reason, the steering on the ’84 is a high-effort unit — later models had a much better feel. The clutch pedal was a bit stiff also… and it would take ME a few minutes for my leg to loosen up (“warm up”?) before I could smoothly shift the darn thing.
GM worked a lot of the bugs out and things got a bit better in 1985…and by 1986, the V6 – manual cars were a blast to drive…
But oh…those poor ’84 models. Automatic cars would tach 3000rpm at 60mph — oh, the humanity!
UAZ Patriot (not a “car” in American cense of this word, but here we don’t make such a difference – everything designed to carry people, not cargo, is a “light automobile” = car). Unbelievably cramped for such external width, I was literally sandwiched between the door and the center armrest. The whole thing shook and rattled like a Conestoga wagon, fresh air was supplied into the interior right through the door weatherstripping, and reaching 100 km/h was genuinely scary because the front axle seemed to have a will of its own. I’ve never really been into 4×4 body-on-frame vehicles, so maybe that’s just cultural shock, but still. Didn’t have a chance to test it off-road though.
’86 or ’87 Toyota Tercel! It was a companmy car for a place I worked during the mid-late 90s, and it had already been totaled and rebuilt__TWICW, about 6 weeks apart__by our in-house software engineer…[:rolleyes]
Driving through the then 2-lane roads in north Louisiana, you learned to be very strategic when it came to passing lumber trucks.
It was later passed on to another employee (I reverted back to driving my 74-1/2 MGBGT as being far safer) and he turned white when his mechanic told him it was rusting apart where the front and back halves were welded together during one of the rebuilds!! He had taken it in for a shimmy above 60-70 MPH…
My first car, a hand me down ’79 Chevette automatic. Soooooo slow. And felt junky in every conceivable way. Talk about a penalty box.
It could barely get to freeway speed on an uphill onramp, you had to rev the hell out of it but the automatic was very unwilling to cooperate. A truly loathsome car built and offered begrudgingly.
My wife would agree; her 1st car was a Chevette with auto, & besides the limited useful power, it was a total lemon. Hence, her next car was a Camry.
You think THAT’S bad? How about this: a friend of mine had a Chevette where the back floor pans were completely rotted out, the carpet had broken through, and you literally had to hold on for dear life, with one foot on the left door, and one on the transmission hump. But the car wasn’t dangerous, since it never could generate enough speed–multiple cylinders weren’t working, and it was ice age slow in taking off from a stop–people would honk at us at a light to get moving. This was the pre-safety days…..nowadays, that POS would get sent to the junkyard, because the rust issues would have to be fixed before it could be insured.
1971 Ford Econoline Van.
240 ci I6, 3 speed on the column. This was a work van that I drove on the freeways of Los Angeles.
It was actually a joy to get back into my Pacer at the end of the day.
I was going to say almost the same thing, except mine was a 74 and had a A/T, which made it even slower. I got it up to 50 once. Came with an extra starter and I soon found out why. The only good thing was you could change the spark plugs inside.
I’ve never actually hated driving any car or truck, either mine or someone else’s. So I can’t add to this story.
Pontiac Grand Am, not sure of the year but an early one with the sealed-beam lamps. Maybe ’87? It belonged to my girlfriend for maybe 4 months in 2002, and I only drove it a couple of times, but WOW. What a dog. It shook (heavily at stoplights and under acceleration, moderately at other times) and rattled. It was slow as molasses. The steering was vague. It burned oil. The seats weren’t comfortable. If I’m remembering correctly, it had those infernal door-mounted seat belts. And to top it off, it was just ugly. Battered paint, missing trim.
Granted the car had well over 200,000 miles on it, so maybe I should have cut it some slack. But the question isn’t the worst car you’ve ever driven, but the one you’ve most hated driving, and that Grand Am stands out.
1971 Chevy Biscayne taxi cab. Six cylinder and PG. And about a half million miles under its belt, by the time I drove it in 1976/1977. Underpowered, the seats were completely shot, as was the suspension and everything else. It was miserable.
I actually preferred my prior ride, an even older ’70 Biscayne, even though it had manual steering unlike the ’71’s PS. But it was lighter, ran a bit harder, and handled better.
The cars that float to the top of my list were all my Mom’s: the 1971 Catalina 4-door had a 400/automatic, but seemed slower than Dad’s F-100 “small six,” and was super-floaty to boot. The Citation she had for a number of years was disappointing in every respect, but the car she had when she passed in 2010 was simply unpleasant in every respect – a Nissan Sentra (forget the year). Slow, bad gas mileage, and it completely missed every expectation I had for a Japanese compact sedan. It was (and still is – my brother still drives it) reliable, though, which is all the good I can muster for it.
I grew to hate my 1980 (U.S. built ) VW Rabbit. Everything that could go wrong with a car went wrong. I lost count of the clutch plates I had to replace, and the number of times expensive major electrical and fuel injection components went bad. God, what a dreadful car.
I’ve driven worthless junk, but most have had character, and that bit of character usually makes it somewhat pleasant. But the truly worst was a early 2000s Dodge Ram Van 2500, ex-fleet van from Manitoba Hydro. Uncomfortable, awful in any extreme weather; worn out was an understatement. It’s only redeeming quality was that it was a big van good for work. No character, awful to drive, I’m glad they have me a different van at work.
A 1990 VW Golf. This miserable sh*tbox had the nasty habit of suddenly stalling -at any speed- and never wanting to start again. The end came when one day the engine died on the entrance ramp to the highway while I was already late for an appointment. I pushed the car off the shoulder onto the grass and beat the hell out of it. I must have looked like Basil Fawlty. Sold it to the local junkyard later that day and got me a nice Citroën CX GTi instead. Never looked back.
Was it a 1.3 by any chance? My Jetta had the same habit: stalling, and needing a lot of convincing to start again. Then again, it was very old.
Yes. A 1.3 Manhattan IIRC.
The 1999 Chevrolet Cavalier my wife was driving when we began dating. The front seat was not particularly comfortable, and the interior materials looked and felt cheap. The handling was nothing to write home about, and the engine was best at producing noise, as opposed to real power.
The air conditioning system had died at about 55,000 miles (apparently a common problem with J-cars of this vintage), and the engine later died at 113,000 miles. She replaced it with a brand-new, 2005 Ford Focus SE, which we still have.
The worst was an ’85 S10 shortbed stripper pu parts truck. It was only about 3 years old, but had been shown no love. The armstrong steering was a lot harder to turn then the armstrong full size V8 ’70 C10 I owned. Only reason as far I can tell is the much smaller steering wheel diameter. The 4 speed shifter was crunchy, hard to move and had really sloppy engagement. The 4 speed Hurst shifter in my C10 shifted easily and smoothly. In the rain the S10 would spin the rear tires no matter how careful you were with the throttle, and the (cheap) tires were new. The engine sounded like a coffee can full of rocks, although it did have somewhat decent power for a 4 cylinder. The red truck with black vinyl interior combined with no AC was a sweatbox. The Chevy had no AC as well, but it was white and had a cloth saddle seatcover along with decent padding, which the S was also lacking.
Everybody who used that truck would remark how crappy that little truck was.
But, family member has a ’96 GMC Sonoma, also base but with power steering extended cab long bed. It’s very underpowered with it’s 4 cyl 5 speed, but drives 100 percent nicer then that old ’85 S10 ever did.
Thats a shame on the S10. I think a few options would have helped.
I had an ’84 extended cab, with a V6/5spd, upgraded interior and rallye wheels. It was pretty decent. Handling was good and tight, driveline was great, and it could really haul.
Options make a big difference for sure. I had a similar truck, an ’82 S-10 with carbureted 2.8 V6 and automatic as its only options. I don’t know how GM could design such a high-effort manual steering setup but they managed to do a great job. This truck…along with my 1981 Chevy Shorty Cargo Van, is as difficult to steer as my manual-steering steel-bodied P30 GMC Stepvan.
Oddly enough, the 3-speed metric transmission was more pleasant to deal with than the awful 700R4 that was installed in my ’83 S-10.
The “extended cab long bed” Sonoma was just an extended cab. Sadly, no compact pickup was ever offered with anything longer than a 6′ bed on the extended cab models, unless you wanna count a few very early, very rare Toyota Xtra Cab models in the ’80s.
Forgot pic.
Your right. It’s just an extended cab. But the longer wheelbase and power steering, smoother and quieter (though underpowered) 4 cylinder engine along with whatever chassis improvements GM made over the years makes for a world of difference in ride and handling. The ’85 S10 had 0 options.
It wasn’t horrible, but my 82 J2000 was a bit of a pile. The engine made a strange, almost non-automotive sound when it was idling (it sounded sort of like a small scale threshing machine). Shifting through the gears it felt like the gearlever was connected into a collection of Lego-like gears.
The steering was a bit light and had almost no feedback.
The speedometer cable developed a bad rattle at speeds over 35 mph.
As far as assembly quality, various pieces broke or fell off over time. The exhaust manifold split into 2 large pieces, the shift knob crumbled apart, the driver’s side window winder broke. The tires it came with from the factory were an oddball brand/size. I eventually replaced the tires (Generals) with Goodyears a slightly smaller size.
“The engine made a strange, almost non-automotive sound when it was idling (it sounded sort of like a small scale threshing machine).”
Oh man do I remember that sound. It was like a bunch of tiny scissors slicing away with very little lubrication. I was surprised GM went OHV on a brand-new engine like that, until I drove the Quad-4. Then the call on the earlier J2000 and Iron Duke revival made sense as they were much more refined. Was there ever a rougher engine than the Quad-4?
I’ve always liked cars with character so I’ve been a bit forgiving with ones that should have really annoyed me.
That being said, my current ’01 Sable has no character and I really hated driving my grandfather’s ’03 Grand Marquis.
My Volvo 343, can’t understand why I bought it. Gutless (Renault) engine with the DAF CVT to make it seem even slower (and drink fuel like a v8). Hideous handling, just wallowed in the corners. Not a particularly nice interior and unreliable as well. Hated driving it…
We had a few of these in the family. I remember them as being virtually indestructible but, indeed, outdated (rear leaf springs) and extremely thirsty when equipped with CVT.
I have never driven one but thought that it’s architect was handling friendly. RWD with balanced weight distribution courtesy of transaxle; De Dion tube to ensure tire the the ground squarely; Torque tube so softer springs could be used.
Theoretically you’re right, but the reality was terrible. You would turn the wheel and there would be a significant pause before all the car’s weight lurched to outside of the curve and shortly after that it would start to wallow around the corner. Purgatory, every second of it.
Managed to find a photo of the actual car! My parents scanned it for me several years ago and it was sitting in the depths of my email. This is me and my crappy volvo 343, about 1991 I would think.
The end of this car came when I adjusted the tappets. Being a cack-handed novice, I unknowingly tightened the rocker cover down too hard, so the rockers smacked into the cover. Concerned at the noise I got a knowledgeable friend to listen, and he immediately diagnosed terminal engine damage. I sold it to a fiend in the village for 150 quid iirc, and he found the actual problem immediately, which he was very smug about. However, I was happy to be rid of the dreadful slug and experienced considerable schadenfreude when he expressed shock at how much petrol it used, and how slow it was. Although it was a costly mistake, there was significant relief in being rid of the crappy thing.
A 2000 Ford Expedition Eddie Bauer. It was my stepmother’s car, and she insisted that I take it rather than the Saab 9000 I owned at the time on a 2 day run from NJ to Vermont and back, moving some furniture and household goods. In theory it was a sound idea, as it happened to be February, there was questionable weather coming, and the gargantuan size of that misery mobile made for easy crap-carting. In practice, it was a nightmare. I never hated driving anything so much as that vehicle. It did snow and sleet most of the way up there, and the AWD in that Expedition should have been a help, but was useless. As the tires shifted and shimmied in and out of slushy ruts on the highway the AWD system would try to direct power to the non-slipping wheels only to overcorrect what it perceived as a slide, which resulted in the truck kind of lurching itself in and out of the ruts left by semi traffic. I am a veteran of many blizzard road trips, and am hardly squeamish, but when something that big and that heavy goes into a slide a 60 MPH it’s an underwear stain-maker for sure. I’d have been much happier, and truly much safer if I’d just hopped on my trusty 300,000 mile Saab with its four Gislaved snow tires. I delivered teh Expedition back to my father after the trip vowing never to touch that thing again. His response: “Oh yeah, that thing’s a piece of shit….I hate it. Wouldn’t want you to get hurt, but I wouldn’t have cried if you’d totalled the damn thing”. Nice.
A 1977 Mazda B1600 pickup that I owned back in the 80’s, same as a Ford Courier. It had the most uncomfortable seat ever. The heat and defrost were incapable of keeping the windows clear in a ND winter, so I’d have to use a scraper on the inside of the windshield as I drove, and my feet would freeze. I actually installed those stick-on frost shields on the side windows. Terribly underpowered, it was ok in town, but on the highway it was impossible to maintain 60 mph on hilly terrain. And that’s without a load. I’d enter a valley with the pedal mashed to the floor, only to have to drop from 5th gear, then 4th, then 3rd just to get up the other side. People behind me didn’t like that much.
Second place, a 2002 Hyundai XG350. Powerful, smooth, well-equipped, but I could never get comfortable in the seat. One hundred miles is as far as I could ride at a time without a break. And that traction (?) control. When you tried to climb a slippery hill, it would automatically apply the brakes until you came to a halt. I always had to try and remember to disable it before the climb. My wife loved that car, though. I’d probably still have it, except for an untimely timing belt failure.
XG350
You must have had a monday or friday Mazda ute, I towed a 1955 Austin Westminster on a tandem axle trailer from Nongataha to Wairakei with an identical ute thats about two and a half tons all up on the drawbar for 70 miles yes it felt underpowered but when I returned the trailer it went ok as just a ute at least as well as the fleet of them we had at work. It maintained the 70kmh then towing speed limit on the flat thus loaded empty it happily ran at 100kmh.
I have one and it is a work horse and reliable best buy ever!!! Also own newer other make but it don’t come near to my Mazda B1600
Same colour
1999 Ford Taurus SE with the vulcan V-6. What an awful piece of crap.
As a new driver in the late ’70’s I was driving the family Pinto’s. As a young family man in the early ’90’s my wife and I had a Ford Tempo. Our 1993 Ford Taurus LX wagon with the 3.8 V-6 was a terrific car. It’s replacement, a 1999 Ford Taurus SE wagon with the 3.0 “vulcan” V-6 was undeniably the worst car I ever owned and had to drive regularly. Worse than the Pinto’s. Worse than the Tempo’s. At least the Pinto’s had some spunky charm, and the Tempo was simply a very comfortable and honest car that did what it was supposed to do with no fuss.
I honestly to this day cannot understand what I was thinking when I traded in the terrific LX for that absolutely horrid excuse for automotive excrement. As soon as I could afford to, 27 months later, it was history. Traded in on a 2000 Mercury Sable LS wagon with the night and day different and better 3.0 duratec V-6 and a far more refined interior in every way. I never hated driving that one. Just hated owning it after 18 months when various electronic sensors started throwing up on themselves every few months and costing a minimum of $600 each time something weird would malfunction. Coupled with its garage mate, a 1996 Ford Thunderbird that suffered in the worst way from the Jacques Nasser cost-cutting era at Ford, the Sable would be the last Ford product this once diehard Ford enthusiast would ever purchase.
My first car was an incredibly rusty Beetle with dodgy clutch, drum brakes, and engine mounts that made it feel like it might literally fall apart. But I enjoyed driving it. (sometimes)
The worst car I ever drove was a 1st generation Vauxhall Corsa – 1.0, 3 cylinder. They felt solid enough for small cars of that era, but there wasn’t anything particularly appealing, they weren’t particularly good at anything, the clutch action in the 1.0 made life difficult (the 1.2 and 1.4 were fine) and they struggled to keep up with traffic. The whole idea of this engine was it would save you fuel, but you had to drive flat out all the time, and it sounded awful too.
*Edited to say that in 2010 I drove several Great Wall SUVs and utes in a huge storage facility, and each was terrible in its own unique way. They were brand new and felt knackered. The fit and finish was appalling. I would have to say they were worse than any Corsa.
Torsion bar suspension gets way WAY too much credit on this site. A torsion bar is just a spring that flat and twists instead of being coiled n compressed. The main advantage lies in the fact that you can periodically readjust it as sag sets in or make it stiffer (and increase ride height) if you want. Same thing could be done (with significantly more difficulty) by putting stiffer pads between the body and spring mounts on coil sprung cars.
Ill put it this way. The Challenger and Barracuda were sloppy pigs compared to their Mustang and Camaro counterparts despite having this supposed suspension advantage. These days only off road capable vehicles and some commercial trucks use torsion bars in the front. It was an engineering dead end for passenger and certainly sporting cars.
It is true that by the 1970s, GM had really taken the lead in suspension design in the US. But if you go back to the 1957-62 era, the Chrysler setup was as good as it got. GM of that era had the same combination of smoothness and handling that Ford perfected in the 70s – smooth, quiet, and nearly uncontrollable if the going got rough. I am sure that it wasn’t just torsion bars, but the entire suspension geometry. It was good enough that Chrysler could essentially ignore it for 20 years and still have a reasonably decent handling car.
You’re right, inasmuch as torsion bars are not magic. But Chrysler’s suspension generally during the ’57 up period was set up to have better handling, at the expense of some of that Jet Smooth ride. In fact, when Chrysler softened their big car suspension settings for ’66, to make them more competitive with Ford and GM in terms of smooth, soft ride, the handling advantage mostly went by the wayside.
In terms of comparing the Barracuda to the Camaro and Mustang, it’s essential to specify which generation. The A Body Barracuda was universally lauded for its superior handling; go back and read any review. And the gen 1 Camaro was generally panned in that regard, and the early Mustangs were pretty feeble in that way too. They were both better if they had the right suspension options, but the base cars were primitive, given that the Mustang was just a Falcon, and the Camaro a Nova.
The gen 2 Camaro, beginning in 1971, had a revised suspension that put it in a league of its own, and yes, better than the E-Body Barracuda and Challenger.
It’s dangerous to make sweeping generalizations, as “handling” encompasses many different qualities, and any of these cars had a wide range of suspension options along with different size wheels and tires. It quickly gets to be apples and oranges.
Morris Minors had a torsion bar front set up from 1948 onwards and handling is excellent in those especially for a cheap base model car.
Larger versions of that species in Morris Oxford and Wolseley six eighty were ok too same suspension set up.
Ive had a few Aussie Valiants with torsion bars and while not brilliant are ok if aligned properly.
Dad used to rave about his old MO Oxford. The Series II not so much as the Austin engine let him down, though the chassis was still competent. When the badge-engineered Farina Oxfords came out on the Austin platform, forget it!
The MO had the last of the Morris flat heads pretty much unbreakable but not much power havent seen a live one for a long time.
For me, there are two cars that run together, because they shared parts. In 1971, I acquired a 1962 Valiant station wagon. It had the 170 slant six, Torqueflite, and a dealer-added air conditioner. That car was a slug. I repeat: it was a slug. The added-on A/C worked poorly, and made the engine overheat often, so I hardly ever used it. If it rained, the ignition system would crap out and the engine would stall. Still, it got me partway through college until the front end got T-boned, putting the car out of commission. My dad found a 1961 Dodge Lancer station wagon and transplanted the 170 and the rear end of the Valiant into it. The Lancer had the three-on-the-floor. The car was still a slug, just noisier than the Valiant (the Lancer was a lower trim line).
In a class of its own was Dad’s 1961 Mercedes 190Db. It had superbly comfortable seats and a remarkably soft, supple ride combined with great handling. It also had a four-on-the-tree of surprising sloppiness, but that was still livable. It had awful heaters compared with American cars. The capper, though, was the 55-horsepower diesel engine. It was the slowest car I have ever driven, and the noisiest. That diesel clatter was deafening. I’m glad it’s no longer part of my life.
1995 Mazda 626. It had a 4 cylinder and that horrible Ford automatic transaxle (I forget the name) that kept self destructing (I went through 2 in the 3 years I owned the damn thing and it was failing again before I got rid of it.) And the engine, already underpowered, ended up misfiring and only ran on 3 cylinders at the end. Which wouldn’t have been a problem, except that I lived in a city full of hills. So you’d accelerate and almost have the car cut out as you crested a hill and then you’d roll down the other side and back up the next hill. Kind of like The Engine that Could.
Just typing this is making me angry.
1962 Austin Healy Sprite. Whining engine, handled poorly.
I love cars and trucks so I don’t really have one I ever truly despised but I will say the worst qualitywise had to have been the 1984 Mitsubishi Montero that I owned. It constantly broke down despite numerous rebuilds on most of its systems. Freeway speeds had the engine spinning for its life at near 750CC motorcycle speeds 75MPH in 5th gear was around 4500 rpm. But the AC was ICE cold and the truck was still the best off road vehicle I have ever owned. Even better than my 95 Pathfinder.
I also used to drive a
1988 Ford Festiva 5 speed no AC
1990 Geo metro 5 speed no AC
1994 Subaru legacy H4 with AC
1995 Olds Cutlass Ciera V6 with frigid AC
The Cutlass Ciera gets a lot of guff on every automotive forum and in the general public but mine was an absolute beast in regular use. Comfortable with its skyblue bench seat and was so light its 3.1 or 3.4 (cant remember) v6 had no trouble getting it out of its own way. It regularly returned better than 30 mpg on the freeway and was very quiet on trips. The ex wife and I hated its looks but loved actually driving it because it was so comfy. Never once let me down up until it was T boned by some dope head
1984 Mercury Topaz. A well-kept low mileage (something like 60,000) 10 year old car when I got it, it quickly developed a habit of oil consumption where it didn’t burn or leak to obnoxious levels but required me to buy Kmart-brand “Motorvator” oil (then 99 cents/qt) by the case. Handbrake stopped working early on, service brake burst some sort of hydraulic flex hose holding on an incline, driver’s seat backrest broke (it already had those horrible Ford seats that had what should’ve been the lumbar padding behind the shoulders instead, forcing you to slouch whether you wanted to or not and causing excruciating back pain after a few miles of rough road), every week it was something else. Heavy chrome trim around the windows causing glare visible behind the wheel. PS it was easy to “outrun” while parking. Shouldn’t have been a clunker but became one very quickly.
My late and far, FAR from lamented ’86 Corolla. Park-bench-hard seats, glacial acceleration, pinged on even the highest octane fuel (pinging on Ultra 93? What the hell???), and craptastic fuel economy (couldn’t break 30 mpg on a dare). Try several dealers about the pinging, every one said it was normal. Replaced that steaming pile with an ’89 Topaz which was world’s better.
2007 Chevy Uplander. It was a complete stripper model that I had use of for work from time to time. The front door handle broke, the key fob broke, and so many suspension and other bits were worn out well before 80,000 miles that my work sent it to auction.
It also never rode worth a damn, it was awkwardly high sitting and there was hardly any seat adjustments-even for a stripper. Not that it really matters, but I thought it was homely too. The Mopar vans we also have were like luxury cars in comparison, even though they are base models as well. The 3.9L v6 gave it enough pep, but that was about all that was good about that thing. I was not one bit sad to see it go.
The runner up to that one was a Corolla (hell, I don’t even remember what is was for sure, it was such a forgettable car) that I had as a rental four or five years back while my car was in the shop overnight. Acceleration was terribly slow, ride was harsh, interior felt and sounded (already had plenty of rattles and squeaks) cheap. Its the kind of car you wonder why they even bother making-and I always thought Toyota had such a great reputation? I suppose maybe you couldn’t kill the thing, but then, I wouldn’t want to drive it that long anyway. I couldn’t wait to get back behind the wheel of my 2004 v8 Eddie Bauer Explorer.
84 Toyota Sunrader motorhome with a 4 cyl. 4speed manual , no power steering , 5000 lbs. Every hill would slow it way down requiring downshifting. The steering was so heavy. Acceleration was measured on a calendar, also like my 1st car a 62 VW bug, which wasn’t much fun to drive uphill on the freeway with everyone passing me. What I loved about the bug was taking it on 4×4 mountain trails, and driving it in the snow.
I spent 8 years in the car industry in Australia. I have driven so many cars it’s hard to remember what car or van I found most wretched.
Off the top off my head:
EA Falcon auto that decided it was going to murder me by stalling halfway through every T-intersection on busy roads.
Toyota Hiace camper with column manual and 70hp engine that was terrifyingly slow, hideously uncomfortable and had the braking power of a ’47 Buick.
Daewoo Matiz – the a/c compressor cut in while I was crossing a busy main road and immediately killed off all the acceleration. This was the last of many bad experiences with that ‘car’ and I have not driven another one since.
’95 VW Caravelle – This van was designed to make driving as unpleasant as possible. Nothing can prepare you for the sensation of a solid, chunky vehicle that, once on the move, is harsh, weak, and feels like there are rubber bands connecting the main controls to the mechanical parts. At least the seat was nice.
The one I hated most was the one I needed most because it was the company ute. A 1991 Holden Rodeo (Isuzu pickup). The 2.6 litre multipoint EFI engine was absolutely wonderful but…….the seat was agony, the gearshift was all over the place and engaging 5th could only be done with a loud crunch from the gearbox. The interior squeaked constantly, the steering was so worn out it was a matter of just holding the wheel straight and waiting for the front wheels to work out where they needed to be when changing lanes on the freeway. The seatbelt was shredded, the indicators sometimes worked and it went through 3 litres of oil per week.
But DAMN we relied on that thing. It got my boss and I through some tough times.
Easy one. My second car, in high school, a 63 Ford Fairlane sedan with a 170 six and Fordomatic – equivalent of this Belair. Absolutely the slowest, most miserable car to drive ever – a total embarrassment, and a huge purchase mistake. Dumped it within months for another well used VW Beetle that, despite not being the most reliable car, put a big smile back on my face.
Yup, a Motor Trend test of a Comet with the 144 and Fordomatic took 27.5 sec. to 60. Can’t imagine a 170 was much faster.
After a few years, I ended up hating my ’75 Duster 360. It was fast in a straight line and fairly reliable, but I got really tired of the noise, hard ride, sloppy assembly, and the overwhelming A-body crudeness. I was not sorry at all to see it go.
Ummmmm, none.
I also am a car social person and always enjoy meeting and getting to know different vehicles and can get along with most anyone. I even enjoyed the rattly Chevy panel vans I drove at my first job. Two that I could not abide however were a ’72 Matador and an ’86 Cutlass Ciera Cruiser and those were only due to reliability issues. The Matador which we got new when I was a tyke had somewhat of an excuse as Pops hadn’t really maintained it as well as it deserved and it served as a veritable guinea pig in my early wrenching days. It didn’t help that the little 304, although velvety smooth when running right, was woefully weak for a quasi full sized wagon. That Oldsmobile, though, had no defense for its constant bad behavior. It had apparently been well maintained and driven lightly by its elderly original owner. Electrical gremlins quickly presented themselves, however, shortly after we took delivery. It started with the tape player and quickly migrated to the locks, windows, accessories, cooling fan, and engine management systems. It would never pass exhaust testing on the first try and developed a hesitation that could never be completely extinguished. I was forever worried that we would be plowed in an intersection when it stumbled or stalled. Its sole asset was that it was aesthetically pleasing with its light maroon paint, simulated oak side panels and dark burgundy interior which held up quite well during the time we had it. It was the pretty girl (or handsome guy) who over time reveals an unpleasant disposition you eventually come to wish you’d never met.
Geo Metro with the 3-pot engine. I took it for a test ride to see if it would be a car for my wife. After one block and tiny hill I turned around.
Next on the list: ’98 Ford Escort. Again just trying to see if it would work for my wife. The engine combined sluggishness with vibration. The bowed out doors made me feel like sitting in a 55 gal drum and the horrible suspension made me think: “This car is based on the Mazda Protege; leave it to Ford to mess up a good thing!”
A (dis)honorable mention goes to a Mercury Villager. The salesmen wanted me to take a ride. I saw the automatic seat belt and slammed the door shut.
I agree with the 98 escort. A friend was looking at one. I went on the test drive. Awful noisy crap car. My 96 escort wagon was a thousand times better
During my summer stint as a car jockey at the hospital parking garage the car I came to loathe was a Dacia 1300. If was owned by a hospital staffer who often parked in the 3-deep area of the undersized lot which meant we had to move it at least once a day.
First of all it smelled terrible inside, as the lowest ranking parking guy I got the honor of dealing with it. It would just about make me retch just being in it.
Second it had manual armstrong steering and my poor little skinny arms would just about snap cranking that thing around. I was 6 feet tall and about 110 pounds.
Luckily I don’t think I’ve seen a Dacia since that summer…
Dacia was known as the car that made the Yugo seem like it was designed and built by Honda by comparison.
“Windmilling” that Chevy steering wheel brought back memories. In my senior year in high school in Southern California in 1964, I drove a considerable distance on surface streets into Los Angeles High School from the westside for summer school, frequently with a classmate whose father had bought her a ’60 Impala convertible that year. Pretty spiffy car for a high schooler back then. She would pick me up, then ask me to drive, of course with the top always down. Fun times, but I so remember that power steering wheel rapidly and seemingly effortlessly turning and turning, wondering when you were going to get a response. You could turn the wheel in tight spaces by placing your open hand flat on the wheel, then rapidly “palming” it lock to lock, or by sticking your index finger where the spoke met the wheel and quickly twirling it. Not very safe, to be sure, and it seemed so sloppy, but that was my overriding memory of those Chevrolet power steering systems.
My most hated car? Well, two of them, actually, both my father’s company cars, a 1961 Falcon and a 1964 Dodge Dart GT. I learned to drive in that Falcon, even took my driver’s license test in it, but it was the original gutless wonder, no power steering or brakes, couldn’t get out of its own way, you would have to manually choke it to death on cold mornings to get it to start. Awful vehicle. Then he replaced it with the Dart. The frying pan to the fire, in my view. The sound of that slant six starting will be with me forever, my brother can still do a perfect imitation of it. Once again, no power steering, no power brakes. My dad traveled often back then, and I had the use of the car to drive to high school whenever he was gone. But the image of that Dart just seemed so devastatingly wimpy to my seventeen year old ego. My brother and I hated to be seen in it, and always preferred to take our mom’s big ’63 Mercury whenever the family went out. But, hey, the Dart was available wheels, so I would swallow my pride and haul off to high school, parking it as far away as possible hoping not to be seen. Not good memories of that car.
Don, I took my driver’s test in a 61 Falcon as well – and hated the car. It belonged to my mom and I left the keys in it all the time when I got my license hoping it would go away – but no one else wanted it, either. I forgot all about the manual choke – the 63 Fairlane I mentioned above had one as well. I used the Falcon for my driver’s test because it was small and easy to park. Also, it had a manual tranny so wasn’t as god awful slow as the Fairlane with Fordomatic.
One of my aunts had a 64 Dart too but it was a V8 (273) with Torqueflite, PS and PB and nicely trimmed out in an ice blue metallic – and it drove nicely as well. Big difference depending on the way they were equipped. And who could forget those Mopar starters – that whiney sound was so unique you could hear it a mile away. I miss the unique sounds of cars from those days. As a little kid I could identify a Chevy Blue Flame six or a flathead Ford running or the starter on a Buick vs a DeSoto – we all could because they were so different from one another. Try that today in a parking lot.
So you, too, suffered the indignity of the Falcon! Had to laugh, we must have lived in some parallel automotive universe. My dad wanted me to learn to drive and take my driver’s license test in that car for the same reason, small enough to maneuver and park, but slower than molasses and gutless enough to avoid getting into trouble. Even though it was the deluxe model, it seemed like such a cheapo, flimsy vinyl and fabric upholstery, not to mention rudimentary seat comfort, rubber floor mats, dog dish hubcaps, no backup lights, no clock, that manual choke I could never master, even only a single indicator light for the turn signals. At least it had automatic transmission and a radio and heater, probably about all the options you could get. It was such a down market car, even its baby blue color conspired to add to my everlasting chagrin about its image. At the time Dad got the Falcon, my mom’s ’59 Galaxie was still sitting proudly in the garage, looking like conservative big brother to this little upstart whippersnapper.