Last week’s COAL on my Datsun 510 ended ignominiously in the Catskills when I borrowed my boss’s car and drove from Vermont to New York to retrieve my belongings from the deceased Datsun. My boss loaned me his 1975 Saab 99 EMS and days later as the summer of 1981 was waxing the Saab became mine.
I don’t recall having any awareness of Saabs growing up in Ohio, but in the latter half of the 1970’s they were abundant in the Peoples’ Republic of Vermont as they combined a unique esthetic with incredible winter capabilities. The 99s were just reaching an age where those of modest means – a ski bum/college student like myself – could acquire one. At $1,200 the used Saab was the most expensive car I had purchased to date. It also represented something I greatly admire – an iconoclastic product from a company not compelled to follow the automotive pack.
My boss at the ski area, Bob, had always been a bit of an iconoclast himself. Originally from the Midwest like me, he had seamlessly transitioned from school teacher to lobster fisherman to ski patroller to running a major New England ski resort. He typified the Saab customer – someone who, with apologies to Apple, was not afraid to Think Different.
Bob had purchased the 99 EMS two-door coupe new in 1975. The fuel injected EMS (Electronic Manual Special) was the sportiest of the 99 models. It featured a normally aspirated 1.985 liter in-line four-cylinder engine that made 108 horsepower and a four-speed manual transmission. Like all Saabs it was front wheel drive but Saab was not afraid to compare its handling to more conventional rear wheel drive sport sedans of the day. The car was peppered with small technical details not found on its competitors. It had four-wheel disc brakes but the emergency brake operated on the front wheels, not the rear. Safety fanatics, the Saab engineers put the ignition on the floor and not on the steering stalk as they felt the incidence of driver knee injuries from bumping against the key in an accident was too high. Consequently, the ignition lockout locked the transmission not the steering. Saab was not alone in having a front-hinged hood, but the feature was not exactly mainstream.
During its later General Motors years Saab was not afraid to remind us they were “Born from Jets”, but that was obvious to me in 1981. The instrument cluster was all function and featured a soft orange glow at night that made me believe I was alone in a jet fighter at 40,000 feet. The rest of the Saab interior was equally unique, a modern Scandinavian environment that Volvo was never able to capture as well in its cars.
The seatbelts had no buckles. Instead the belt itself clipped directly into a retaining mechanism between the front seats. If you were to watch the uninitiated’s first drive in the 99 it would start with confusion on how the seat belt worked followed by a period of puzzled searching for where to insert the key.
The space, oh the space! With a total length of 171” the 99 was just 4 ½” longer than the BMW 2002. But front wheel drive, an upright driving position and the first fold down rear seat I’d ever experienced meant the Saab was cavernous and could swallow bikes and ski equipment with aplomb.
The Saab proved a blast to drive in good weather and bad. In summer its road manners and its unique cockpit environment made every drive special. It was even more fun in the winter where Saab’s rally heritage could be tested. By mid-winter Vermont dirt roads would develop a washboard surface. While this would result in an uncomfortable undulation at low speeds, I discovered that the car would plane out and ride smoothly above 50 miles per hour – a most satisfying solution. Cornering methodology also changed during Winter months when tightly packed snow berms lined the dirt lanes. When cornering you could steer into the inside berm and hold tight against it through the corner. Apex? We don’t need no stinking apex!
Naturally there were mechanical issues foremost of which was the brakes. The Other Michael and I decided to rebuild the Girling calibers. This makes it sound like a proactive decision, but as is usually the case the car decided for us and we were left to execute its directive. Vermont winters are hard on a car. When we think of rust we think of damaged rockers and deteriorating fenders, but we forget that the salt equally abuses any exposed mechanicals. After six years the biggest issue in refurbishing the brakes was unbolting the Girlings so that we could service them. They were attached by 18 millimeter bolts. The Other Michael had always purchased Sears Craftsman tools. They were good quality, reasonably priced and guaranteed for life. At his suggestion I had picked up some Craftsman sockets myself. Between the two of us we had four 18 millimeter sockets. We broke three of them removing the calibers. The Sears representative, cheerful but perplexed, replaced all three sockets.
Even with properly functioning brakes the Saab had a propensity to eat through front brake pads after about 3,000 to 5,000 miles. My informal survey of other Vermont Saab owners found that their results were slightly better at 7,000 to 10,000 miles but still significantly less than most cars. After changing front pads the miser in me would store the used ones in the trunk. This proved to be beneficial one time when the Other Michael and I were driving from Vermont to Philadelphia after a week of skiing during my Spring break. I was giving a ride to another student from my school I had connected with through the school’s ride board. She lived on a rural dirt road high up on the Killington/Rutland pass in Vermont. After picking her up I began a spirited descent down to Rutland. Midway I heard and felt a crunchiness from the front pads that indicated they were shot. No problem. A quick stop in the Rutland A&P Supermarket parking lot to swap in slightly less used pads and in 20 minutes we were on our way.
Overall parts proved expensive. After following the Other Michael, now the owner of a Porsche 914, through an intersection with a steeply crowned cross road I achieved more lift than was optimal. The end result was that the Saab’s suspension extended so far during my short flight that one drive axle pulled out of the transmission and was damaged. I don’t remember the cost of the replacement part, but I do remember the Other Michael chiding me that it significantly more than his father had paid for a similar Mercedes part.
At a certain point the 99 EMS needed a full top end rebuild – a common issue with the model – and as usual I lacked the funds. I stored the EMS in a friend’s barn and sold it sometime later.
That was not the end of my Saab story, however. In 1988, married and now living in Maryland outside of Washington, DC, I got a hankering for another Saab. My wife Debbie and I did not yet have children, but we anticipated some would come along in a few years and cringed at the thought of becoming a suburban mini-van family. We preemptively and whimsically purchased a 1971 Saab 95.
The Saab 95 wagon, and its 96 sedan stablemate, were predecessors of the 99. The 95 wagon and the tear-shaped 96 were direct descendants of earlier Saab automobiles the first of which was the Saab 92, first manufactured in 1949. As Saab had previously only manufactured aircraft the Saab 91 was a plane. Early Saabs featured two-stroke three-cylinder engines. The 95 wagon went into production in 1959 and the 96 sedan went on sale in 1960. The biggest change during the wagon’s run, which extended to 1978, was the introduction of a 1.5 liter V4 four-stroke engine beginning in 1967.
My 95 wagon featured a three speed manual transmission with a vague column shifter. The Saab’s most anachronistic feature was the transmission’s freewheeling ability. The freewheeling feature would essentially allow the engine to spin separately from the transmission when coasting. This functionality harked back to Saab’s two-cycle days when the lubricating oil had been mixed in with the gasoline. It prevented the engine from running dry on lubricants when descending. In a descent you might not have your foot on the gas but, with the car in gear, you would nonetheless be revving the engine. Activating the freewheel thus allowed the car to descend at speed with the engine at idle assuring that the lubrication rate and engine speed were in sync. The wagon was a seven seater as in the back it had a rear-facing third seat accessible through the rear lift gate.
My 96 wagon never really made it into the daily driver rotation but it did entertain us on weekend spins around town and it was the car to have for a young married couple transporting a newly purchased futon couch. Children particularly loved its rear facing seats and all occupants were always guaranteed to smile.
With minimal use it provided zero mechanical problems. After a couple of years, I decided the wagon deserved a fuller life and sold it on to a good home.
Coincidentally, my Saab era ended about the same time as Saab lost its independence in 1990. Lacking the scale and financial strength needed to develop the next generation of cars Saab needed a partner. Saab’s automotive division was spun off as a separate company and General Motors took a 50% stake. Subsequent Saabs would share components with other GM divisions such as Opel and Buick but the Saab engineers continued to think different. With each new shared model, they made sure that the Saab editions were nearly as iconoclastic and over-engineered as always. While this assured a certain continuity with predecessor Saabs it was ultimately their undoing as these extra engineering costs were spread over such a small volume of cars that GM eventually deemed Saab financially unviable. GM sold Saab to specialty vehicle manufacturer Spyker in 2010 and they proved to be uniquely unsuited to reviving the marque. The last Saab as we knew it rolled off the assembly line in 2012 and at that moment the World become just a little less interesting.
Next week – Beaters be gone! The beginning of my modern era.
Last week – 1971 Datsun 510 – It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.
Related Saab reading:
CC Saab 95 – Saab Shows Ford How To Make The Shortest Three-Row Wagon
What a hideous and bizarre looking car. Why anyone would want one is beyond me. It’s ugly and Uncomfortable and expensive to fix and ways breaking down. Glad to see them go out of business. Loosing a carmaker that only built ugly temperamental expensive cars is no loss unlike mercury, Plymouth, Oldsmobile and Pontiac.
Any theories why Saab went out of their way like Subaru does to purposely build hideous blobby cars???
Hey-now. Don’t be mean; we don’t have to be mean, cuz, remember, no matter where you go, there you are.
– Buckaroo Bonzai
Different strokes for different folks. I’m not the biggest fan of Saab’s design aesthetic but I admire their quirkiness and practicality and the automotive world is poorer for having lost Saab.
Also, regarding Subaru, again I must say different strokes for different folks. And while Subaru’s design language has had some bad years, the current crop of Subarus are mostly handsome. Have you seen the new Outback? Very nice looking wagon.
I think you also have to keep in mind re: Saab that, like many other European brands, any reputation for unreliability seems to exist moreso in North America than in Europe. Maybe its different maintenance schedules or driving styles or driving environments.
I get you don’t like Saabs and boy, were they not for everyone! But that is such a negative series of remarks to make :/
Warren; below is the UrSaab. One of the first modern applications of aerodynamics in a passenger car. Probably more DNA from this shape in the modern car than from any other vehicle produced in 1949 – Tatra aside. Ugly? Maybe. Significant? Yes. And to many like the founder of this site and the author of this piece and even myself, that is a beauty in itself.
So stick around. Share your point of view with a consideration of others. Try to be persuasive with your argument, and see if you can bring us along for the ride. Hey, maybe you’ll even learn something yourself.
Or don’t stick around; no one’s going to care, no one’s going to miss you. But keep up with that attitude and you’ll just find your comments deleted.
Here’s the DKW F9, which Saab copied practically everything from to create the 92. In fact, the 92 used DKW mechanicals under its skin, as Saab built it form scavenged DKW parts. There are reasons Saab still needed Ford and Triumph to provide their engines twenty years after the 92. Oh well. At least now Saab has joined DKW on the scrap heap of history, so fewer people will go around giving Saab credit for ripping off other people’s ideas.
And this is a 1937 KdF Wagen, which spurred DKW to come up with the F9…
The KdF was a rear engined car. The F9 contained all of Saab’s ‘innovations,’ since the 92 was literally a reskinned DKW with DKW inspired styling.
…when DKW’s range looked like this.
and whilst the VW and DKW were evolutionary steps, the UrSaab was perhaps a greater evolutionary step, owing as much to their understanding of aeroplanes as it did to its predecessors. DKW did not invent the internal combustion engine, either. Whether Saab stole or borrowed their version of it is now moot as both brands are no longer in existence.
I could not disagree more vehemently that the 92 was more of an evolutionary step than the DKW it was based on. After a decade or so of Saab car production, the 96 even looked more like the clever F9 than it did the first-effort-at-copying-the-F9 92.
No need for vehemence. The origins of the F9’s shape are self evident above, and that’s before we even get back to the Tatra link. But I maintain that the UrSaab was a more significant step from the F9 than the F9 was from the KdF. Perhaps agreeing to disagree is the best way to walk away from this discussion.
+ 1
Gentlemen, you’re wasting your time trying to “educate” Warren. He has previously professed his profound love for the styling of the Lincoln MkVI, a car that might well generate similar feelings (if not the actual words) from many of us. He is obviously a Ford man, especially the boxy ones, as well as other domestic big iron.
His comment stands as a perfect example of what I’m asking folks to avoid, since in this case he’s not only putting down the Saab, but also the author, by association (“why anyone would want one is beyond me”). And I’m going to leave it up for that purpose, but if he indulges in that again, I might not feel so inclined.
Interesting as just this last week I ran across two of those late 1970’s Panthers with the flat , slanted taillights ~ they were very popular when new , I never liked the way they looked but it was nice to see two in the flesh in VGC shiny paint and clean still plying the streets of Los Angeles .
-Nate
A fairly new Lincoln Continental sedan based on the Mk VI was my ride to the junior prom in the 80’s. I thought it was a nice car….well equipped and I loved the opera window. The only thing is the cassette player ate the just released Bon Jovi tape I was using to impress my date who happened to be a die hard Bon Jovi fan. Ah…New Jersey in the 80’s!
You are entitled to your opinion even if it is wrong LOL.
The handbrake working on the front wheels should have clued you into its real function its a parking brake not primarily an emergency brake and having it partially on all the time is probably why you went through brake pads at such an alarming rate.
Nope – it was the way I was driving the mountain passes in Vermont.
Old rumor- Swedish gummint “suggested” that SAAB move the handbrake from the back to the front to prevent “SAAB turns”. Handbrake lever was quite prominent + convenient in pre-99 SAABS.
I’ve owned and loved both of them, I still own the 95, great vehicles!
I never really “got” Saabs of this era but reading your account makes me realize that perhaps, had I been living where you were living and doing what you were doing, I would have really embraced Saab.
Two great vehicles. Totally agree that the world lost something with the failure of such a nonconformist automaker. I also really liked the two door roofline of yours more than the Wagonback hatchback 99. Although a wagonback might have been better for your ski stuff.
Did SAAB ever build a mid-wing radial twin that looks like the one on its old logo? All I can find, in addition to their more famous fighters, is low-wing turboprop light airliners.
I always liked SAAB cars, but from a distance.
Neil, to answer your question, the Saab 90A-2 Scandia.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Saab_90_Scandia
Thanks; that looks like a clone of the Convair 240, which was also intended to compete with the DC-3, a hard act to follow esp. given postwar surplus.
I’ve flown in a Convair 580 [turboprop], a solid old workhorse like the DC-3.
Oh man, that 95 wagon would have been the best! Saab 96s have been on my search list for awhile, but their parts availability is just not good at all…I still love ’em though!
And that 99 interior is soooooo cool. Maybe I’ll have to watch a Bergman movie today or something.
Great write-up! I love Saabs…had a ’90 900s hatchback and a ’96 900s convertible. A kid up the street from me had a 99 EMS in a salmon-silver color, it was too cool.
I have never driven a 9000, but I would really like to get one.
If you can find a 9000 that’s been well maintained and hasn’t been modded to death, buy it and never part with it. A ’93 9000CSE remains my all-time favorite car. At 365,000 miles I literally shed a tear the day I had it flatbedded away when it just didn’t warrant another $1200 repair. The little family-owned upstate NY Saab dealership that took it as a “token trade” on its replacement mined it for bits and pieces, and when I picked up my new car it was on a lift being picked down to a near shell, still to live on as parts of who-knows-how-many organ recipients. Wonderful car.
The 900 convertible and the 9000CSE were the 2 cars that cemented my deep desire for a Saab; it took quite a few more years but my weekender is an ’04 Aero convertible. It’s lines are gorgeous, and a weekend doesn’t go by where I don’t get a compliment. Repairs are expensive (I’m the opposite of mechanical; the HVAC fan went out and that was $600), and it’s old school technology, but the car makes its occupants feel special. The 6-speed and Borla don’t hurt either.
The 99 did shake up convention somewhat…there is nothing stylish about it. But the weirdness wears off when you recognize the intention of the design and idiosyncrasies. I used to think boxy Volvos were visually impairing too, yet here I am admiring that distinctiveness and wishing they’d go back to that shape.
I’m sorry Warren doesn’t get it, but everyone doesn’t need to.
Funnily enough, the ‘youngsters’ today don’t what a Saab is but will often positively comment. “Sabe” is what the car wash attendant called it the other day after he asked where to put the key. I was just glad he knew how to drive a stick.
The writer didn’t mention for some reason that the V4 in his wagon was a Ford.
I don’t think Saab ever did their own clean-sheet engine design. The early two-stroke motors were based on a DKW design. As you note, the V4 was a Ford motor.
The turbo 4-cylinder mill that Saab is best known for started life as a Triumph engine. (These were actually bought from Triumph initially, but the usual British quality-control issues raised their heads. Saab brought production in-house where they made numerous improvements over the years.)
The last-generation Saabs used GM engines.
True. When Saab switched over to the V4 it was a German Ford. Likewise the inline 4 used by the 99 was originally manufactured by Triumph in the early years, but Saab brought production in-house due to quality issues.
British consultants Ricardo were closely involved as well, for both SAAB and Triumph, but only Triumph got the 16v/single camshaft head use din the Dolimite Sprint
In 1966 (IIRC) Pops bought a SAAB wagon , two stroke engine , he loved it , it was bright red and was extremely good in the New England snow .
A Dealer mechanic wrecked it during service , Pops was crushed .
Different cars to be sure , wonderfully comfortable for young me , my tall and skinny Father , his Wife and so on .
Different looking but not every one liked Chevies back then , hard as that may be to believe .
I worked on a few of these later model ones , really tight to get one’s hands in the routine alternator replacement etc. but fun driver’s especially the turbo models .
-Nate
The Spyker disaster was only the penultimate chapter in the history of Saab thus far. After bankruptcy, Saab was licensed to a Chinese-funded startup company, National Electric Vehicles Sweden, which had big plans to revive Saab and for new designs into the future. The first phase reached fruition, as production of the GM-derived Saab 9-3 resumed in late 2013. But NEVS was to become merely the next disaster. After less than a year of slow, hesitating production, NEVS lost its license and Saab died again.
Dead is dead…I was reading a book the other day about the history of Studebaker, another company that built very sturdy, thrifty cars that were tough as rocks, but just didn’t have the money to compete in the automotive market (and made some dumb decisions with paying out large dividends, buying Packard, etc). It’s just part of the ongoing consolidation among auto manufacturers.
Better to let Saab die with its reputation largely intact, than to continue as a GM brand with no real,Saab DNA…putting the ignition switch on the floor doesn’t make it a Saab.
I might argue that Subaru is the closest thing to a Saab replacement in the market today…smallish car, quirky, and not cheap.
Volvo soldiers on as a badge on a Chinese car. I suspect they’d be better off dead too.
The key on the floor made sense from a safety and security perspective, but the reality is that I saw quite a few that were gummed up and stopped working after food and drink spills when I worked at a Saab dealer. Saabs often had the filthiest interiors of any of our customers’ cars. Now it doesn’t make sense to put the ignition switch there because cars in what was Saab’s market segment rarely have keys or mechanical shifters. The Audis my recent employer leased had many controls mounted horizontally on the cockpit in front of the worst drink holders in the business. One wonders what else Audi can’t foresee.
The 99 and original 900 had the lock cylinder basically at the bottom of a funnel, any spilled liquid or debris at all in the cockpit would find its way in there!
Interestingly the Saab 9000 had the ignition key in the more conventional spot next to the steering wheel. The GM-based models moved the key back between the seats, but on a raised section which reduced the funnel effect.
The 900 shared a lot with Fiat, Lancia and Alfa, so that may have driven the key location
CJinSD: you’re wrong about Volvo. Volvo is working on its own and with great success, too. Volvo Car Corporation is owned by Geely, but operates as an independent company.
Germans still don’t understand drink holders, I think – I’m covering some Audi’s in future weeks.
I concur with CincyDavid. Having owned 4 SAABs over the years, beginning with a well used but fantastic ’86 900S, I became hooked because these were brilliantly engineered cars.
By the early 2000’s when I was driving a 9-3 SE the brand had been watered down and bastardized. The equivalent, in my mind anyway, of an Olds Alero with a hatchback, a Turbo and some scandinavian-inspired design cues and switchgear, my last Saab completely lacked the spirit of the marque. Granted, many of the eccentricities of the earlier cars might have been necessarily ‘bred out’ of the brand through globalization, but by the time the core-model 9-3 morphed into a 4 door sedan with very Audi-like features and a re-branded GMC Envoy was being peddled at Saab dealers the writing was on the wall.
I recall sitting in a service department waiting room, sleek and very white, replete with Ikea quality pseudo-scandinavian furnishings, warming up my credit card while sipping a complementary espresso to ease the pain of GM parts priced at 1.5 times the retail at a Chevy dealer and thinking, “This is over”.
I remember my first experience with a Saab. I was in high school. I had a job bagging groceries at Bi-Lo. One of the cashiers had an 87 900 S. She left her windows and sun roof cracked. Of course it started to rain. She gave me the keys and asked me to close it up……. Five minutes later it was pouring and I was soaked and so was her car. She didn’t tell me where the ignition was. I found it when I dropped the key’s between the seats.
It was a nice car. I love the way it looked. The 99 looks like a pre puberty version of the later 900. Kinda tall and gangly looking but grew up to be a pretty one.
My memories of Saabs from growing up in northeast Pennsylvania in the ’60s:
The nearest dealer to where we lived was over an hour away in a small-medium sized city. The building itself was on the less traveled road of a non-major highway intersection (sort of like the cars themselves?). Clustered around the building were about 3 or 4 Saabs but also about a dozen British roadsters which were what I was interested back then (and still am).
Neighbors had a 95, a dark green with the V4, probably a 68 as it was festooned with “extra” side lights. As small as that car was, I really could not believe it was capable of carrying 7 people for any distance. 5 ? Maybe, but 6 or 7 ? No way.
Really liked the EMS model and those funky wheels some of them had (soccer ball?), but especially liked that almost pumpkin orange paint job used on some Saabs.
I wish I could find the print ad I once saw of a cutaway of the 95 seating at least six people. It was clearly an ‘artist’s conteption,’ and clearly the people were drawn in a much smaller scale than the car.
I can verify, and have photographic proof (somewhere), that the 95 is surprisingly spacious and so well designed it will fit 6 adults, but if memory serves it will be so slow that time, distance, and gradient, become exaggerated.
I couldn’t find the ad I was thinking of, but here’s one where they make the 1963 SAAB 95 look as big as a school bus by filling it with tiny people.
http://www.vintagepaperads.com/1963-Saab-95-Station-Wagon-Ad–Take-a-Critical-Look_p_44601.html
I see what you mean about seeming as big as a school bus in that ad.
The reality is tall and skinny more like a Mazda 5 mpv, or a three row Honda Fit. Amazing packaging in that old Saab, I even slept in back rather comfortably, more than a few times, with the seats folded.
I’m familiar with Saab 95s. They are packaged very well for something that has vestigial separate fenders, but it is still about putting several people into a small car. 169 inches long is pretty short for three rows. It’s about 4 inches shorter than a Honda Fit Shuttle, which is a small three-row vehicle with the tall car design philosophy, The Fit has about half as much of it’s length dedicated to its hood, but of course the Saab’s dashboard is much shallower than the Honda’s. I found a 1963 Saab 95 TV commercial where they talk about all the capabilities and about its 42 hp engine. They rated it for 1,000 lbs, but 3,000 lbs of car and passengers is a lot for 42 hp to haul around. The Ford V4s used in later US market Saabs were rated at 55 hp, whether they displaced 1.5 or 1.7 liters. One might hope that the rating was net instead of gross, but that still isn’t much power for a full complement of passengers.
When my boss sold me the EMS he kept the soccer ball wheels, unfortunately.
Excellent story and great subjects! My first Saab drive was in a friend’s ’79 900 Turbo, of which several parts of this story and these pictures reminded me of, not least the seatbelts as well as the very 70’s Scandinavian velour interior. I’ve had a respect for Saab ever since and owned several. Unlike the original respondent, I mourn Saab’s passing much more than I do that of any of the others he mentioned.
I’m fairly sure your ’71 95 V4 would have had 4 on the tree–my ’68 95 V4 (my first car) did. Two-stroke Saabs (other than the Monte Carlo) had 3 on the tree standard, 4 on the tree optional.
in the late seventies after driving my friends vw golf, i swore off front wheel drive cars. the under steer was horrible. when my father bought a saab 900 in the eighties, i was prepared to be similarly disappointed. surprise! it was one of the best handling cars i had ever driven. it put my mother’s volvo 240 to shame and the 240 was very good.
p.s. love the photos of your wife with the saab wagon
Great stuff. Yes, SAABs are different but when you take the time you realise a lot of the differences make sense, especially in the harsher (than many, not everywhere) conditions of Sweden. A truly valid alternative to other premium brands, and one thta arouses a lot of loyalty, and whose disappearance is a regret
Buying a 95 after a 99 EMS because of the The Urge marks you down for the CC Medal of Honour!
Yes. EMS was the early start of the eventual demise of Saab. Great car then. Still love it. Try to find one???? Ha ha.. I’m a Saab fan but it means nothing… Enjoyed it . When it was new.. great car.. when it had years/miles on it…. it was junk.. Still loved the brand.
Always loved Saab. Too bad it had so many issues. It was fun to drive when new and felt great as a BMW… Great in the snow as well. But problems came up often…Electrical were many. The 96 was probably the better car, the 99 ok, but the 900 went down hill over time.
The 95 was quite the packaging effort, but that rear view…so odd-looking!
I *love* the interior of that 99 EMS, on the other hand. It’s perfect Scandinavian Modern. My next-door neighbor mentioned to me a couple of weeks ago that he had owned an EMS years ago. I had to look it up as I’d never seen one before! 99’s are rare here, and the EMS seems to be completely extinct. He said that it was a great car to drive and had advanced features for the era, but that it was quite expensive to repair which is why he got rid of it. Nowadays he’s a Honda man.
Great piece! While I’ve never driven a Saab 99, as a kid, reading Car & Driver in the 70s, it sounded like a “neat car”. Even though I noticed, that the 75-76 EMS were about as quick as the 77 Turbo 99, and the (new for) 1978 Saab 900 was a tad slower due to the exta weight, I still thought they were great. Back then, FWD was a ‘positive’.
A pal in college had an 83 900 Turbo 16V…I have fond memories of him flying down Route 378 at triple-digit-speeds.
If the US (and later European Union) had been content to simply regulate tailpipe emissions, Saab might have survived as an independent. For a country of less than 10 million to have not one, but two auto manufacturers in the 70s speaks volumes about the innate goodness of their cars..
Sadly, the nanny state killed one, and has taken away the other’s independence. And the autodom is poorer for it
With the new Federal rules making it much easier for low-output car makers to put out replica cars from the past, e.g., DeLorean, could there be a market for replica 96 and 95 cars? I suppose that NEVS owns the intellectual property of the former Saab Automobiles, but getting permission from the former parent SAAB AB for the use of the Saab name is problematic and probably futile. Still, drop one of those Ford 3-cylinder engines in a replica bathtub Saab and have some serious fun.
If your going that route I’d like to see the 78 EMS Turbo coupe, or a Sonnett sports car.
I know someone who put a Saab engine into a Triumph TR-7, it was basically the same block.
I started driving in 1976 at age 16. My first 3 cars were Mustangs. A 67, 68, coupes and a 70 fastback with 302V8. Then a friend in tech school let me drive his 78 99EMS. I was hooked. That 4 cylinder outran my 5 liter V8 Stang.
I had to have a Saab. I sold my 70 fastback and bought a 76 99 Combi. I swapped as many parts as I could to make it into an EMS. Then I was smitten by the 82 HO GT Stang sold my Saab for the GT. A divorce forced the sale of the GT. But that turned into a blessing when I purchased a 78 Saab EMS Turbo that was rebuilt by a Saab fanatic. It had alcohol injection, the boost cranked up, got cold air from the deep front spoiler. Had non-dot approved Avon Turbo Speed Tyres on Saab Aztec wheels. That car screamed. I had it about a year, painted it Porsche India Red. Then a friend at work offered me a 70 Mach-1 351-C with Hurst 4 speed, so I sold the Saab and bought the Mach-1. I really miss both. I restored the Mach-1 but painted it like a Shelby GT-350.
A baby called for a safe car. Leased a 87 Saab 900 5 speed. Worst Saab I ever had. It was a dog. Final Saab came when my wife & I owned a photo studio and a high school aged boy came in with a 77 coupe that had been meticously maintained. I asked him to sell it to me. He declined. Called me a week later ready to sell, he had a front end accident. I bought it for $250 in 1998. Bought a new hood and radiator and was in business. Was out enjoying a fresh snow and was rear ended. I didn’t know the rear was rusted bad, it crumbled like an accordion. The body was shot, but the drivetrain was in excellent condition. So I found a garage that dealt in old 99’s. They put my drivetrain in a 76 EMS Combi body. It took awhile to work out the wiring bugs. The body sat in a barn for years and the wiring connections were all corroded. I cleaned it up and drove it for 3 years. Our studio name was Say Cheese Photography. We painted the Saab screaming zonker yellow with vinyl Swiss cheese holes. It became our CheeseMobile. I reluctantly sold it on the net to a young man from Maine. I was told 3 years later that someone saw the CheeseMobile still on the road in Maine. It had almost 250K miles when I sold it. I’d love another 99 or Sonnette. I agree with the original writer, with the orange dials, and the rows of toggle switches I too felt like I was in an airplane. My current cars are a like new 96 SVT Cobra Mustang garage queen and a 2003 Subaru Outback. Subarus are a close cousin to Saabs.
I had 1978 99. Best and worst car ever. When it was running it was awesome. But it broke down alot. However that wasn’t SAABs fault
. I beat that car like a red headed step kid.
It was lowered, lumpy cam, wheels and tires from a Mustang GT. Air dam and rear spoiler.
I eventually blew the trans going 80kph sideways. Hit a bump. Tires stopped spinning and overloaded the gears and they let go.
I still covet another if the boss would allow it.