Minneapolis Street Sighting: Volkswagen Rabbit L Diesel

In the heat of the rising gas crisis, foreign cars took America by storm--and that gas crisis was only the beginning of what would happen. In 1975, the Volkswagen Group brought out a new small car that would eventually replace the Beetle--and develop a following of its own. With the rise of the Volkswagen Golf, came all of its Variants (okay so that one came a bit later. There was the GTI for the performance minded, there was the regular three and five door, and then there was the legendary diesel. In 1975, the Golf came over to the US as the Volkswagen Rabbit; in its first iteration, there were two doors, four doors, automatics, and manuals, and the hot-hatch favorite, the GTI. Throughout the models' ongoing history, the basic formula stayed the same--a premium compact car with enough value to wow even the most meager shoppers, but have enough engineering gusto to impress the motoring press. Since the car's introduction to the US, it has always been called the Golf--expect the first generation, which was badged as a Rabbit in the 'States. Briefly, it returned sometime in the last ten years but I don't care to remember exactly when. This vehicle I'm showcasing here is an example of the often-rusted-to-death first generation three-door diesel. In L trim, this one was not quite the most expensive model offered. For that reason, the L was stuck with a lethargic 1.6 diesel that pumped out a tune of either 52 or 68 thumping horses. Worse yet, was the torque rating. The 52 horse engine made do with 69 ft/lbs of torque, while the 68 horse version had a whopping 88 ft lbs. Not terrible for a vehicle this light, but I'd think something with less than a 100 ft lbs wouldn't scoot along very fast--and it didn't. Gas mileage was decent, though, as long as you consider sub 40 mpg decent. In its day, the diesel got 48 mpg highway, and 33 city, which equates to 43 highway and 35 city. Not terrible, but definitely not what I was expecting. Still, though, one could do worse when it comes to economy motoring.

As I explained up top, this version of VW's wondercar is far from the fast version; so to see it still in tidy condition is no big surprise. No rust, no dings or other mishaps mar the straight panels--heck, the original wheels are still on it. I don't think I have seen a first gen Rabbit this decent since the green one I blogged awhile back. Oddly enough, that green one I've seen multiple times since I shot it. Sadly, I've only seen this one once. I'm quite intrigued about the life this one leads, because I've never seen it parked at this house again--though the Mecury lynx I see parked there I see driving from time-to-time. I'm also curious to see how this little guy fares in the winter. I know older diesels aren't known for surviving the cold very well, and I do know that skinny tires do better in the snow. Will winters eat this thing alive, or does it have enough to make it through? I can only hope I get to witness it puttering through snow to find out. Till then, happy VW days, be safe Rabbiting along the roadway!

Minneapolis Street Sighting: AMC Concord DL

Quite a number of my findings hail from GM, Chrysler, and Ford when it comes to the domestic front; but as a disconcerting auto enthusiast, I appreciate cars from all marques-- mainstream or not. Lately, I've been fascinated with AMC--honestly, I've always been fascinated with AMC--but lately I've been getting into the Javelins, and their much hotter AMX cousins, as well as the Hornet, and all of its offspring. The Concord can trace its roots back to the AMC Hornet lineup, which was introduced in 1970. This lineup included hatchbacks, two and four door sedans, and a wagon; as enthusiasts know, the Hornet wagon morphed into the AMC Eagle, and the Hornet sedans found new life as the AMC Concord.

  As far as non-collector Minnesota cars go, this little Concord was pretty clean; aside from the obvious saggy-ass syndrome. In true Minnesota fashion, the maroon hue displayed here is far from pristine; it likely would be so if the owner spent a day with a good claybar, though. No obvious rust, and no major dents mar the body--surely a sign of quality care taken by its owner. The only thing I see visibly wrong--and I wouldn't necessarily wrong per se, just odd, are the selection of hubcaps. These hubcaps look like those off of a same-era Chevrolet Celebrity. I didn't get to see inside, but I imagine the inside was just as well taken care, if not showed signs of daily use. A far cry from the badass performance AMCs, this little Concord sure serves someone well--and why shouldn't it? It's a normal, run-of-the-mill sedan that just happens to have an interesting path. Shame, though, that these haven't really garnered an enthusiast following. Then again, I don't see people running out in droves to collect Ford Fairmonts either. All in all, a very good spotting; not only is this a relatively rare car from a forgotten automaker, but its a vehicle that can be picked up on the cheap, and saved from death--if you know where to look, and if you want to be the kind of car guy (or girl) that prefers individuality over common themes at car shows.

Minneapolis Street Sighting: Chevrolet Impala

Chevrolet's Impala and Caprice have been--and continue to be--some of the most common classic nameplates on the road; they're enthusiast favorites no matter what the automotive circle. Donk riders, muscle car enthusiasts, and douches who just want a "badass car" all love them. They're about as American as a Ford Mustang when it comes to cliche American cars--and that's not a bad thing. Surviving since 1958, the Impala is the longest running Chevrolet nameplate for cars; it's been through tumultous times such as the gas-crunch of the 1970s, and it for the last 15 years, it has been a front-wheel-drive family sedan that does battle with the Honda Accord, the Volkswaen Passat, and the Toyota Camry among others. Before it became saddled with the honor of being a front-wheeler, the nameplate had a prestigious history as a rear wheel drive sedan, coupe, or convertible that sat at the top of the chain, as far as full-size Chevrolets go. By 1977, the big cars of yesteryear had given way to the smaller B-bodys, and by 1985, the Impala nameplate was gone again. The big car (well, relatively, compared to the much-smaller Malibu, and smaller-yet Cavalier) slowly phased out and was replaced with the identical Chevrolet Caprice. The car pictured here is a 1977-1979 example that is in far-from-impeccable shape, but I thought the mood depicted in these shots sums up how I feel about the weather right now.

 

I know this example is far from pristine; it's probably one of a select few from this generation I've ever bothered to shoot, though. To be honest, I am a fan of the "donk" body cars, and the '86-'90 Caprice instead of these. I dunno; these just look weird. Something about the ass-end doesn't quite sit well with me. Maybe that's why I chose this beater as my only blogged example? Honestly, I don't think that was intentional. I think this car has enough character that its interesting  at least.
I'm not sure what's up with the funk hood ornament, but other than that, this poor old Impala looks like a good candidate for a B-movie car chase through a small town in the desert--and maybe a car chase through downtown Minneapolis in the rain, too.
Ah, hell, it looks like it already has gone on a few car chase--or at least been hooned a few times. I'm curious as to what did the minor front end damage, and judging by the overall condition, it appears that the hit occurred when this smallpala was relatively new.