(first posted 5/15/2013) Poor Saab. They had such a dedicated fan base for years, but lack of funds meant only two “real” Saabs were built over its existence: the 92/93/95/96 and the 99/900. Once GM got their hooks into the tiny, quirky company, all bets were off. They still looked like Saabs–more or less–but they were more an Opel in a Saab suit after 1993 (though a few Classic 900 cabriolets were sold as ’94 models, the last were built in March 1993). I still see a “classic” 900 here and there in town, but anything older than say, a 1986 model is nonexistent. So you can understand my excitement when I found this cool 95 (no, NOT 9-5) wagon thanks to a tip from my dad.
image: saabmuseum.com
So what was the 95? Well, it was basically a 96 wagon. Think Volvo 244 sedan vs. Volvo 245 wagon. Instead of the cute little airplane-without-wings look of the 96, the 95 longroof got squared-off rear flanks and, believe it or not, a rear-facing third row seat! The first ones appeared in 1959.
Early 95s got the three-cylinder two-stroke engine, just like their sedan counterparts. Despite their light weight, most two-stroke Saabs had a rather leisurely 0-60 time of around 24 seconds.
image: seriouswheels.com
But Saabs were a big part of racing in the ’50s and ’60s, especially with Erik “On The Roof” Carlsson, and with the proper tuning and mechanical bits, the 95/96 could cut that time to 15 seconds and below. I just love this picture. “Ah well, I’ll remember that curve next time.”
In 1967, however, the 95 (and 96 sibling) could be had with the new Ford Taunus-sourced V4 engine. Displacing 1.5 liters, it produced 55, 60 or 65 horsepower. In a 95 wagon with seven Swedes aboard, acceleration might well have been as bad as a VW Type 2. Has anyone here on CC ever sat in the third row of one of these? I’m interested in how spacious or cramped it was.
Well, seven people in a 95 probably did not happen too often, and besides, the 95 and 96 were nice, light little cars, with a 98.4-inch wheelbase and an overall length of 169.3 inches. In ordinary circumstances, they could be right zippy with an experienced driver aboard.
image: cartype.com
A stock 95 or 96 GT850 two-stroke could go naught-60 in 18 seconds, and a 95 with the later 1.5 or 1.7L V4s could do about the same. Tuning could bring that down considerably–check out this site with vintage Saab 0-60 times for proof. And keep in mind we are spoiled today with 300-hp Impalas and Altimas. What is considered slow today would have been quite respectable 40-50 years ago. That is why a new Accord can suck the doors off a ’60s Camaro SS or ‘cuda. Technology marches on.
Like Volvos, Saabs of this period were not prone to excessive fillips, or Brougham frippery. Yes, these cars were very, VERY different from most cars of the period in the U.S., where most folks bought Ford LTDs, Plymouth Fury IIIs and Chevrolet Caprice Estates–especially so in the Midwest.
It took a special sort to buy a Saab in the ’70s, and if you lived between Green Bay and Nashville back then, you probably wouldn’t have seen too many of them–perhaps none at all. Unless you happened to live in a college town. Yes, true to the stereotype, many professors and college types saw the appeal of unusual European rolling stock.
With St. Ambrose, Palmer College of Chiropractic and Augustana College in the Quad Cities, there were probably a few of these about in my neck of the woods back then. Indeed, some English professor in Davenport might well have purchased this CC new. Strieter Lincoln-Mercury in Davenport sold Saabs for quite a while, finally giving up on the marque in about 1999.
Oh yes–did I forget to mention that these mini-wagons had fins? Well, they did come out in 1959. And quite subtle fins they are, for the time. The Saab fins held forth on 95s all the way to the end of production in 1978. U.S. imports ended after the 1973 model year.
image: griffinmodels.com
One interesting thing I found while researching this car is that in certain European markets, a panel van variant sans rear seat was also offered. While they were never officially imported to the States, I wonder if any made it into the country as Saab dealer parts haulers?
Last summer, my dad told me he saw a cool old Saab on River Drive. A couple of days later I went over to see if I could find it and had no luck. As Dad had seen it in a parking lot and not curbside, I thought maybe it was an office worker’s mode of transportation and he/she had left for the day, as it was early evening when I went searching for it. I mentally filed it away and promptly forgot about it.
Fast forward about three months. I was in traffic and spotted this well-kept 95 and promptly forgot about where I was heading. Wow! A Saab 95! Must photograph! Fortunately I did not drive off the road or anything. It was only after I had taken several pictures that I realized I was in the part of town where Dad said he had seen an old Saab…oh, this is that car! For some reason I pictured a 99 when Dad told me about the car he spotted. But a 95 was so much better.
As your resident CC Swedish car guy, I had to share this car with you all, despite Paul’s excellent CC on a similar car. These things just aren’t seen in the Rust Belt. It really made my day to check this little wagon out–the first 92/3/5/6-model Saab I’ve ever seen in the metal. How cool! I wish nothing but the best for this car and its owner.
Great piece! I’ve never seen one of these before. Pretty amazing!
My dad has a story about riding in the back seat of this car’s older brother, a twenty-year-old Saab 92 (think UrSaab) in the 1970’s. he said it was smelly, smoked oil like a chimney, looked like a shoe (was ugly) and was extremely cramped. There is your Saab backseat story, Tom.
I do love me a Saab 95. But since you mentioned it, the 9-5 wagon was pretty sweet too. It made zero sense as a new purchase–but as a few-year-old used car worth 15% of its original value, the gravelly turbo Four and plasticky interior wouldn’t matter so much, and you could concentrate on the airy cabin, big cargo area, throne-like seats, planted FWD chassis, and semi-upscale feel, all the while rowing a highly unlikely manual transmission. Not a ‘real’ Saab, perhaps, but a real neat car. OK I’ll stop, way off-topic now…
These were pretty rare even in the part of the Northeast where I grew up (NJ). Maybe they were more common in New England where it actually snows a fair amount and the FWD would be a help. The only one I can remember being based in my hometown was owned by a doctor whose family had some money behind it (what a way to break the mold of doctors all driving Buicks or maybe Chryslers!).
Anyway, good find. I’ve never seen any old SAABs here in the Detroit area, but then around here cars are pretty well shot by the time they’re 15 years old (road salt and lack of maintenance because a 15 year old car is only deemed suitable for the poorest of the poor). Anything older is a garage-queen collectible that only comes out on summer Sundays.
St. Ambrose! My Dad went there, class of ’65. The priests were still pretty old-school then, doubt there were any Saab drivers among them. Maybe by ’75?
I have tried after getting my driver’s license in 1967, but for the most part, I just could not wrap my arms around the majority of European automobiles. After all, I learned to drive in dad’s 1960 Impala.
Perhaps it’s the classics I grew up with and drove and got used to – big, beautiful, American cars – that quirky, tiny by comparison, even flat-out goofy designs that were typical of “foreign cars” were viewed with disdain by me.
Disdain, indeed – until in 1969 my buddy got his 1959 Volvo PV-544 and I got a chance to drive it. My “disdain” for many of the “foreign” cars slowly began to abate as they proved to be fun to drive and were much more efficient than most of the domestic cars at the time.
I wonder if my feelings would be the same had I been able to drive one of these Saabs? I suppose I’ll never know…
We saw lots of these early Saabs – the wagons and roachback coupes – all green, it seemed – that were among the goofiest. Still, these were goofy in a way that attracted me to them and I wish I would have had an opportunity to drive one with either a V4 or a straight-3 just for the fun of it!
Of all the European cars from that time so long ago, the Saabs, along with certain Volvos, these were my favorites.
Nice article on one of my favorite goofy cars!
Cool find. I had no idea that they made these so long. The car just looks wrong with a/c vents in the dash and the black plastic steering wheel hub.
If I were to do one of these, I think I would want the 2 cycle. If you’re gonna go oddball, do it right. I can’t imagine that a V4 would be a very pleasant engine to live with, but then I have never driven one.
I think we are going to have to wait until folks in the Pacific time zone wake up before we get much in the way of real experience with these. 🙂
Tom,
You don’t consider the 9000 to be a “real” Saab? I know they used some Italian chassis parts but I think they were still a Saab through and through.
That platform was jointly developed and shared with Lancia, Fiat and Alfa Romeo. I have met some Saab fans who consider the 9000 the last real Saab, and others who do not. Something on this platform would make for a very interesting CC. If we have done one, I don’t recall it. I know a guy still driving a 9000 Turbo as his daily driver. Maybe I need to track him down.
Actually I do, but it’s kind of a gray area with its Lancia and Fiat corporate cousins 🙂
Bedding down with three stylish, frisky Italians might not be a bad thing for a sensible Swede! I’d welcome those influences in my SAAB, over GM’s gray, tired genes.
The SAAB 9000 was a wonderful car, all the car(s) most folks would ever need. Fast (mine saw 135mph, stock, effortlessly), practical (carries five people, or two plus a fridge), rugged (ground clearance of an SUV), economical (28 mpg overall), safe (look it up) and elegant (that interior!). And made in Trollhatten, by trolls…
I’d buy a brand new one today, if I could.
Hey guys,
I bought my second 9000, the 2.3 liter full turbo version with 225 hp and long transmission, my fourth Saab, brand new in January 1999. It must have been one of the last ones off the line as production ended 1998. It’s now got over 300,000 KM on it, and aside from a replaced head gasket and timing chain, no major repairs. Runs like a champ, still passes just about anything on the Autobahn, and could theoretically smash most US speed limits without leaving 3rd gear. Love its look, tight drive and all that space. Yes, it’s a real Saab (my other Saabie is an ’89 900 cabrio with 12,000 miles . . . nice!)
…that would be me, too!
I drove a 9000 once and I owned an Alfa 164. They were the same car, but at the same time they were vastly different cars. Both were nice in their own way. I can’t speak for the Fiat and Lancia versions of this platforn at they never were officially imported. And I got so tired of Alfa nuts saying it wasn’t a real Alfa so I sympathize with the 9000.
Nice article. Very cute car and probably very quirky. Their I said it. Looks like a cool little hauler too. Anybody notice the Chevy parked next tot the Ford Expedition in the first picture? Someone should do a head to head of those two.
My aunt and uncle had a ’60 type 96 in New Hampshire, and in 1965 gifted the car to my two older brothers in the Chicago suburbs. Eldest brother took it to college at Champaign-Urbana and managed to roll it into a cornfield after
a few too many beersstudying for finals. The engine from the ’60 got transplanted into a ’59 with a blown engine, and eldest Bro found a ’65 type 95 that he drove for a year or two (later replaced by a ’65 Mercury Monterey–that one would be harder to roll….).As I remember, there was a Saab dealership west of Chicago, Carol Stream or so. Kind of a grotty garage/shop, no fancy showroom (not unlike the Lotus dealer in Downers Grove a couple years later), but it fit right in with the two-stroke “mystique”. Definitely a few Saabs in the area; I suspect as grocery getters for the housewife, or as a car for the kid. I recall seeing a fair number of 96s and a few 95s in Urbana in the early ’70s. (There were also a couple of Lotus Europas, but that’s another CC.)
Regarding the photo of the car on its roof: Nowadays the tires are fat and the drivers are skinny.
Yes, I’ve ridden in one of these, and in all three rows. An elementary school friend’s family in Iowa City had an old two-stroke 95. They were stereotypical owners: academics; the dad going back to school for an advanced degree at the University. They lived in one of those tin-can quonset huts that so many married student families lived in back then.
Given that I was a bit smaller then, I found adequate room in any of the rows of seats, but obviously, my preferred spot was to ride shotgun, which I only pulled off a couple of times (his mom drove a bunch of us to orchestra practice). I wrote about that here:https://www.curbsideclassic.com/curbside-classics-european/curbside-classic-1970-saab-95-saab-shows-ford-how-to-make-the-shortest-three-row-wagon/
I mostly remember the smells in that crowded 95: a heady mixture of oil and body odors,
I first saw what I think was a Saab 96 Sedan in NJ in possibly 1964. I was about a 10 year old school kid and thought it was really sharp. My only exposure to 2 stroke engines before it were Lawn Boy lawnmowers.
Saabs were pretty common in New York in the 80s, at least until they rusted out. True to type the only 95/96 owners I personally knew in the area were a high school teacher and an engineering grad student.
Fun factoid about 2 stroke Saabs; the racing cars ran a very large amount of distributor advance and occasionally engine vibration would cause the distributor to go over center and the engine would start running backwards.
That’s a 1971.
Those aren’t AC vents; that’s the later cabin ventilator. Earlier 95/96 had a lever under the dashboard, like on old trucks, to open & close the vent.
Up until 1973, 96s had adjustable rear seat. 95s didn’t; the spare tire was under it, well, the center seat.
V4 was a nice engine to live with; it was part of the Ford family of engine including the Capri V6. V4 had a balance shaft. Carbs were enough of a problem that the owner’s manual had a section on how to fix them; I found that more interesting than all the lawyer stuff in modern manuals.
No mention of the freewheel?
I think the back end of the wagon has a very French look to it. The straight edges don’t seem to go with the curved lines of the rest of the car.
My college girlfriend’s father had a 1966 96 Monte Carlo 850. Great thing to drive on snowy Illinois backroads. But the car did not like cold weather. It would start but zero degree F temps would freeze up the wheel bearing grease and the thing wouldn’t move. The Monte Carlo had a high compression engine that required constant blipping at Chicago traffic lights to keep the plugs clean. The two strokes produced a lot of carbon which the roller bearing crank did not like. Required a new engine on a yearly basis. Girlfriend’s dad wasn’t a college prof but rather a psychologist at the dingaling academy in Manteno. Same demographic.
Never a common or popular car here a 2stroke Saab would be an absolute menace on our roads the Transit powered versions were more popular coz at least parts existed, there are a few later models for sale locally cheap but being an extinct brand means the cars will never be worth much.
My parents had a ’67 two-stroke wagon when I was little. I recall one memorable trip in the very back seat: For my sixth birthday in 1968, we loaded it up with my parents, my little sister, me, and probably 4 or 5 of my 1st grade friends (including one who was, um, corpulent) and drove an hour or so to a Howard Johnson’s. (I loved the fried clams and the black raspberry ice cream.) It was known ever-after as the “sardine birthday party”.
Interestingly, one of my father’s co-workers had a slightly newer V4 version at the same time – odd for such an uncommon vehicle.
We traveled all over the northeast in it, from the Philly area to Rhode Island at least 5 times per year and on up to Maine for summer vacations as well. It was unstoppable in the snow, which was great for us as our driveway was quite steep. But it really did not like the rain. If it got even the slightest bit wet, it would often stall out. I recall standing by a toll plaza in Connecticut waiting for my uncle to come rescue us one November.
They were known for safety even then. On a family trip to Maryland my father got rear-ended by a drunk going 70 in a 45. (The cop said it probably saved the drunk’s life – otherwise he would have driven off the road into a tree.) The back door of the Saab was crushed, but it drove just fine and actually got us home to Philly a few days later. The barge that hit him was definitely out of commission though.
i love this saab video: http://youtu.be/DKKudxE1wGA
a saab 9000 is a real saab but the purists never warmed up to it.
in addition to the 92/93/95/96 family don’t forget the sonett iii sports car variant.
the best were the 900 series. my father’s sacrificed itself to save him from serious injury when he slid on ice into a guard rail.
The Saab 9000 was a badge engineered Fiat Croma. Here’s a picture:
http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/0/06/Fiat_Croma.JPG
That wasn’t the only Fiat family Saab either, just the only one to make it to the US. In Sweden, they sold the Lancia Delta as the Saab 600.
http://www.saabhistory.com/2008/12/01/the-saab-600-1980-1982/
Tom’s right Saab only ever developed two of their own cars, unless you count the Sonnets as being separate from the 90 series cars they shared mechanicals with.
In the same way that the Chroma was just a rebadged 9000. They were developed jointly, from the start, IIRC. It was a shared platform, on which the four partners developed bodies and installed their own engines and suspensions. Only the 9000s offered hatchbacks and 4-cylinder engines.
So yes, the 9000 wasn’t a pure SAAB project, but it wasn’t an adaptation of someone else’s car, either.
Wrong… SAAB cooperatively had input on the original design then extensively re-engineered the 9000’s body and mechanicals to meet their own safety and performance standards, it was hardly a badge engineering exercise in any sense of the word.
In 1985 or 86, I had a ’67 95 with the V-4. Tan in color. I’m not a professor or an engineer, but it was the third Saab I owned. Sorry to disappoint, but I never took the opportunity to sit in the rear-facing seat.
I had a lot of work to do on this one. The V-4s still used the ‘slant transmission’ (it was installed at an angle) that had been used in the 2-stroke. So it was a weak link. I had to rebuild the one in this ’67.
I should have kept track of the number of washers, shims, spacers and other round objects with holes through the center, that kept everything properly lined up. It would have been worthy of Guiness. There must have been hundreds. It was a real bitch to get back together.
In my experience, Saabs (the real ones) are actually alive and have human-like personalities and sensitivities. This particular one knew I loved it dearly and so, like many similar human relationships, it did everything in its power to cause me pain.
I sold it before it finally did me in.
There were, over the course of about fifteen years, two Saabs of this vintage in my neck of the woods. One was a two-door sedan (hatch?) owned by an older friend of a friend of my older brother’s. This guy would have been about eight years older than me…drove a buzzy little Saab two-stroke around. My mother used to make jokes about cars that make their owners saab…he didn’t get a whole lot of status out of it in the 1970s Cleveland environs.
The other…was just buzzing around town. Don’t know what year or two or four, three or V4. But it was a wagon…caught my eye. Just like the above reprobate’s car, but a wagon! Geez, do they have station wagons in Sweden, too?
Both eventually disappeared, as all quirky-car daily drivers do.
To answer your question, yes, there are CC readers that rode in the wayback of a Saab wagon… although the last time I did I was 10 or 11… and not the 6’3″ 50 year old I am now LOL.
Piękna Sabinka, i ten silnik V4.. beauty
The first car I owned was a ’72 95 and I loved that car. Yes I sat in the rear facing back seat and at 6’2″ its a tad bit cramped. It had plenty of room to lay down in when the seats were folded down though. I’m trying to find one for sale to fix up that won’t break the bank. Either a 95 or 96. Thanks for the article
Had a few. A 2-stroke, A V4 96 and 2 V4 95s. Did you mention the amazing freewheel device? – a clutch that disengaged when you lifted your foot off the accelerator and kicked in again when you put foot down. Enabled you to change gear without using the clutch, prolonging its life. Also to coast, improving fuel economy on what was a very heavy car. Also freewheel was very good for driving on snow and ice.
I had the ‘rear-gunner’s seat’ in both the estates/wagons/shooting brakes, taking 7 people on a 240 mile round trip from Manchester (UK) to North Wales. Guy in the back said “It’s like driving a bubble car (google Isetta/Heinkel) very fast – in reverse!” The bonnet/hood was made out of very thick steel. Let it slam you could break a finger.
Altogether it was one of the toughest cars I’ve ever had.
You can see ‘Buttercup’ my second 95 parked in front of the racing dinghy.
My dad had one and the rain problems were due to the distributor position(clear nail polish and plastic wrap notwithstanding). The freewheeling was actually a feature to help prevent lubrication insufficiency when no throttle down hill runs occurred with the non oil injected engines.
During the summer of 2012 I was hiking the Appalachian Trail, and quite
by chance fell into friendship with a retired University lecturer; It took maybe a week of hiking daily together to discover we had both owned Saabs ( he a round nose two stroke, me a long nose V4; both 96’s) For days we hiked the AT talking and remembering our beloved old Saabs of yesteryear and their lovable quirky traits. He had actually driven coast to coast (USA) in his Saab, whereas mine went much shorter distances up and down the UK ( I’m British)
Then one day as we sat outside Dann & Whits, Norwich, Vt. Enjoying an icecream & what should happen along but a nice little 96 locally owned; Absolutly made our day !
We had two mid-70’s Saab 95’s with 3-stroke engines when I was a kid – one a warm, light grey in color and one a darker grey. Mom’s was the light colored one, and Dad’s was the dark colored one. Eventually, Mom inherited the dark grey one and Dad got a diesel Peugeot. I rode in the way-back seat on a regular basis (there were 5 kids in the family), and we took a week long car camping trip with the car fully loaded, cooler and family dog on the floor, and tents and sleeping bags loaded up on top. For anyone over the age of a junior high school student, the way-back was cramped.
I learned to drive on Mom’s car. I remember having to hand the gas station attendant a pint of outboard motor oil before filling up the gas tank. I remember learning how to shift without using the clutch, which came in handy when the clutch wore out and we couldn’t get it fixed right away. I remember the crappy acceleration from a stop. I remember the neighbor kids yelling, “PUTT, PUTT, PUTT!” after me as I drove down the street. I remember really liking the car and its quirkiness.
Correction, I meant 3-cylinder, 2-stroke. Wish I could edit my post. 🙁
Saabs were not sold in Canada as early as in USA so we did not see these often. About 1960, when I was quite young, my brother and I were driving north with my father for our annual fishing trip when my dad suddenly pulled into a service station on the other side of the road. He had spotted a Saab 96 with American plates and he wanted a closer look. He was a mechanical engineer and a member of SAE, so he was very intrigued by the design of the car and the engine. I still remember his telling me it only had 7 moving parts. It made his day. He would have loved CC.
Great article, but you stopped short. The best of them all, the (model 97) Sonett. Identical drivetrain, brakes, and suspension as the 95/96, and partially the same floor, but with a two seater fiberglass sports car body. Lower and lighter, it handled great, and I still have the trophies from morethan a dozen years of ice racing. My ’68 Sonett V4 has the freewheeling 4 speed on the column, the ’70 and ’71 are floor shifted. I still have all three, although I sold my ’85 900 Turbo SPG and my brother’s ’74 Sonett.
Ah yes, ‘Carlsson på taket’ – he was a legend when I lived in Sweden 40 years ago.
My dad had one and the rain problems were due to the distributor position(clear nail polish and plastic wrap notwithstanding). The freewheeling was actually a feature to help prevent lubrication insufficiency when no throttle down hill runs occurred with the non oil injected engines.
The first car bought with my own money was a ’67 SAAB 96 2 stroke from Schwing Motors of Baltimore, in the summer of ’71. Loved it’s quirky nature and amazing performance in the snow, but flat out being about 68-70 mph driving it on the Beltway was a scary experience. The wife’s ’67 Volvo 122S was a far better highway cruiser so that became our trip car. When the 96’s clutch went out in Feb of ’74 we traded it on our only new car ever, a left-over ’73 SAAB 99 in Verona Green. We drove it out West camping all over the US, and it loved cruising at 90+. I got a warning ticket from the Montana State Police outside Miles City at 105mph. Wish I still had that one!
Ah – “A real Saab”. – Really ? Or “Born from DKWs” ?
I don’t think I’ve ever seen a ‘real Saab’ in Vancouver, which is puzzling. Perhaps they never made it over the mountains or across the border in the more localized car markets of the time.
Love the photo of the Saab on its roof! It reminds me of a YouTube video I can no longer find – black & white film footage, probably from the ’60s, of Saabs and Volvos being gloriously abused on dirt road rallies in Sweden. Fun stuff.
I was a SAAB mechanic in the 70s and 80s–strokers and V-4s, 69-78 (first turbo). 79. The ’78 also had electric side mirrors. When it rained and then froze they were trashed when you tried to use them. The wiper mechanism in the early 99s consisted of cables and cams and a whole bunch of unnecessary hardware instead of the handy electric motors and direct drive everyone else was using. They were designed by aircraft engineers who never turned a wrench. The freewheel control often died and we developed an easy fix, though you couldn’t use the freewheel after that. The alternative was to pull the power unit and disassemble the engine. The pinion nut tended to loosen in the transaxle–good bye transaxle. The strokers had what we called the overhead shaft radiator fan. The engine was so light you could cart it around like a suitcase. The radiator was located behind the engine–who thought of that little gem. The strokers had a brilliant feature–connect the generator (that’s right) to the water pump so when the pump leaked the generator also died. Yeah, the distributor was located in the lower left-hand corner of the engine compartment. Great idea, huh? The snout of the air cleaner was pointed down so there was a chance you could suck puddle water into the combustion chambers. Bye bye engine. Which had ball bearing bearings. I had several of these beasts, one of which I drove across the country with my first, long-suffering wife, and our little-bitty son. Had a quite a few V4’s, too. Ford sought to quiet the valve train with a fiber rather than steel crank wheel. Guaranteed to strip. My third and so far final wife almost broke up with me when drove up to Vermont to see her in my orange (yuk–same color as the Sonnet) ’74 99. She claimed bait and switch because at first I was driving a ’67 V4, the best in my opinion. The two liter SAAB engine was a honey except you needed a special tool to take out the water pump, which ran off a balance shaft. Without the special too you broke the shaft and, yep hand to pull the engine. The earlier 99 Triumph engines–1.7-1.85–had single link chains and idiotic tensioners that failed and that was the end of those engines. The engines also boasted of head-studs instead of head bolts–the heads were aluminum and the studs were steel. Add a little coolant and you have use a torch to get the damn head off. I could go and on, which I am doing. It was a knuckle-busting love affair with a truly captivating and ridiculous automobile.