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.

Minneapolis Street Sighting: Chrysler Lebaron Convertible

In the 1980s, Chrysler was recovering from severe bankruptcy; the company nearly lost it all, and wedged its hopes on a new platform that would underpin an upcoming people mover--and so much more. With the launch of the K- platform in 1981 model year, the K-cars quickly become Chrysler's fastest (figuratively) sellers--and with good reason. Every bodystyle, from two-door formal coupes, to five-door wagons, and the conventional four-door sedan was offered. Turbo, non-turbo, four, and six cylinder powerplants were offered as well as a choice between automatic and manual transmissions. So why are these K-cars so hard to find today? Rust--and Chrysler's awesome transmission problems--and paint problems. In the 1980s, all three domestic automakers had serious problems with their paint. Be it the clearcoat coming off in droves, or paint simply peeling after a year or two, and straight up random fading, domestic cars were terrible at remaining the same color they were when they left the factory. More often than not, Chryslers of this vintage have either had a cheap respray or two, or the owner simply doesn't care and they're showing signs of significant surface rust, and bare metal.

Since Chryslers of this vintage are fairly rare around here to begin with, seeing a pristine one is that much more of a lucky find; I've always been partial to the odd variations of common cars, and these bread and butter Chrysler convertible fit the bill quite nicely--and in this case, literally. I seldom see Lebarons of this era, and I can't really seeing more than one or two other convertibles; neither of which were in very good condition. The paint on this early example is immaculate, as are the wire hubcaps and other chrome bits. The grille marks this example as a 1983 or 1984 car, which are apparently a tad bit less common the post-1985 examples. Odd, because all the ones I've seen are 1983-1984 cars. I applaud who ever owns this particular car because they're doing a damn good job taking care it, especially in one of the worst states for cars as far as rust and natural environments go. I normally wouldn't flock to 1980s Chryslers, much less convertibles, but this Lebaron was so clean I couldn't help but not pass it up--and I hope it stays clean as long as possible. Congratulations on a well-kept, and seldom seen car.

Fuck You

This new blogger interface is IMPOSSIBLE to use. I hate it, and I hate the way you now have to upload pictures manually, one by one. This is ridiculous.

Minneapolis Street Sighting: Volkswagen Quantum

Growing up in the early 1990s, Volkswagens other than the common Jettas, Golfs and classic Beetles were pretty scarce to me; maybe it had something to do with the fact that I lived in Northeast Kansas, but I never saw many VWs outside of those three nameplates. As I got older, though, I began to notice a variety of Volkswagens I hadn't seen before. I've heard of them, yes, but it wasn't until much later that I knew much about them.
I've been a longtime staunch fan of the Volkswagen Passat, and it remains one of my favorite Volkswagens to this day. In 2012, a multitude of versions are--unfortunately all sedan because Americans apparently don't understand the concept--or the ideology-- behind a good station wagon.
Originally offered in both a sedan and a wagon, the Quantum offered something that only Subaru and the more copact Toyota Tercel and Honda Civic wagons had at the time; 4 wheel drive. Sure, it was available on Audis too. but they were much more expensive that even the Quantum.
 In 1990, the Quantum finally became known as the Passat in the US, like it had been known as outside of the US; the rest is history, and proof that once you stick to a good name, do not change it. Volkswagen seemed to have forgotten that when they horribly attempted to rebadge the Golf as the Rabbit once again. I would laugh if VW renamed the Passat the Quantum again after its next redesign.


I've always been a fan of obscure German cars--obscure cars in general, too, but.. hey.. who's counting. I don't think I have ever seen a Quantum in recent memory on the road; the only one that stands out was spotted in U-Pull-It a few years ago in the wintertime--and that one was a wagon. I don't think I've ever seen a sedan, so this one was a treat for me. Parked in a shitty neighborhood that also housed random GM H-bodies, I had to do a double-take to be sure I was, indeed, seeing a Volkswagen Quantum.
As far as niceties go, I have no idea how this one fares; its the first one I've seen, and it's in okay shape; obviously the paint isn't terribly glossy, and it has a few nicks and scrapes here and there, but its over 25 years old. What Minnesota vehicle won't show signs of age by then? Although, I can't bash it too much, this is a decent example. The wheels are still the factory wheels and all the trim is there.
One thing interesting that I noticed about all sorts of VWs is that before the days of the S, SE, SEL nomenclature, there were numbers designating special features. This particular car is badged as a Quantum GL-5, signifying the number of gears in the manual transmission. It also sports styled wheels similar to those on the much-loved GTi, once again signifying the GL-5 as the most sporting of the Quantum line. A sports car it obviously is not, but a sporty car it is--for 1980s standards. I guess the modern equivalent is the VW CC R-Line with a stick? I guess once a sporty four-door always a sporty four-door.
This is honestly one of the more mundane vehicles I've shot, blogged, and written about, but I guess since I'm a closet VW fanatic, it only makes sense, right? After it, this thing does count as a classic--and it isn't hellaflush or stanced either, thus rendering it one more stock Volkswagen roaming Minneapolis' streets.

Minneapolis Street Sighting: Porsche 944

I lust after 944s--I really do. They bring back memories of my childhood, for better or worse. I had plenty Matchboxes of them, and they're one of the first oddball Porsches I liked--and still do. I can't help it.  But, for years, I have lambasted the Porsche 944--okay, not really.
Like many other 1980s sports cars, the 944 has earned the reputation as an engine swap candidate. To help it earn that reputation, let me start off by saying that even when introduced, the 944 wasn't the most powerful two-door sports car offered. Surely, the Turbo was decent, but what about the base model?
Well, it was what it was; I've written times amany about the 944, and how its roots are from the 924, which was anything but a Porsche, and how the 924 was a dawdling piece of crap not worthy of the Porsche crest-- but that doesn't mean I don't like them.  As with any facelifted car, I can see past the facelift, and see past the new wheel trims, the rear spoiler, other styling alterations; to me, the 944 immediately looks like a 924 with changes--which it is. But it's not a bad car. It's just a bad Porsche.













This example is probably the nicest 944 I've ever seen parked on the street; gleaming paint in a dreary sky, spotless teledials that do not sport one little ounce of curb rash, and black trim that looks immaculate, I could go on and on.
The 944 is often a "forgotten" Porsche, and therefore many examples are abused, hacked into track cars, or simply neglected. To see one in pristine shape in the middle of the rustbelt is nothing short of amazing. I could not find one fault with this car--and that says something. I'm generally pretty picky about cars that are still somewhat common.
As it stands, this is the nicest 944 I've seen--and I would gladly sport it. Would I like a 951 more? Absolutely. But would I cherish it as much? Probably not. I'd drive the wheels of it whilst I cherish and covet this one. Base 944s are getting more scarce, and the possibility of them being the next "collector Porsche" is very real. And I bet "resale red" only helps the cause.

Minneapolis Street Sighting: Ford Ranger

I've always been a bit of a Ford fanboy when it comes to pickup trucks; granted, I like GM's offerings too, and a fair bit of Dodges offerings, but when it comes to domestic trucks, I fall into the Ford camp. Case in point--the Ranger. I've always liked it. I don't much care for the newest rendition, but the little truck looks great in any year, 1983 to 1992. There's something about the small Ford's styling that's got an edge over its GM competitor. Be it the "small F-150" styling cues, to the rear fenders and bedsides that looks great in almost any wheel/tire combination, or the front end with its eggcrate grille on the early trucks to the Explorer face of later first-generations--there's really no way to mess these up without visibly hacking them to bits.
Growing up in the rustbelt in the mid-1990s, the custom minitruck trend was in full swing; I saw hoards and hoards of these first-generation Rangers that have succumbed to ill-fitting wheels and tires, body modifications that look absolutely horrendous, and even worse yet, fitted with front clips and fascias from entirely different vehicles.
In Minnesota, things are vastly the opposite; as of 2012, the custom minitruck segment is all but dead, and the sheer amount of fully custom rides is quite staggering--at how uncommon it is. Most trucks of this era that have been modified are usually in various states of disrepair languishing behind a body shop, or used as second-vehicle transportation in lower-income areas. Better yet, some continue to roam the streets, their faded paint and curb-scuffed Billet wheels serving as a rolling testement to vehicle customization from about twenty years ago. But not all custom trucks are rolling reminders of what once was the mainstay in automotive trends.









I've always been a fan of the early Rangers, and despite the somewhat-iffy mods, this example looked pretty good.  I normally despise yellow--or any other bright/off colors on domestic pickup trucks, but not here.  The only two things on the exterior that I'm not really a fan of are the Mack (I think) hood ornament and the purple/blue/whatever stripe running the length of the truck. I mean.. c'mon.. yes, this looks badass for a Ranger, but it isn't quite ballsy enough for the hood ornament. I'm a sucker for Ansen (and lookalike) wheels on about anything pre-1990s and American Here, the wheels look awesome, and dramatically change the little truck's appearance.  I'd normally scoff at the side-pipes too, but here this minor piece of hot-rod nostalgia somehow...works. I can only hope that there's more than a 2.3L four and a 3 speed auto to back up the looks though.
As it stands, I'd probably drive it; I'd do burnouts in it, I'd get it sideways in the wet, I'd flog this little turd through every snowstorm I could; in other words, I'd hoon the hell out of it. Why? Because I can. And because a Ranger can take that abuse.