An insurance ad I saw earlier today which was attempting to induce some nostalgia (hey, remember your first car??) got me started thinking about this.
My first car was kind of a POS (a 1983 Dodge Charger), but it wasn’t my least favorite. That was the car that came next. It was an ugly-ass 1986 Subaru GL hatchback, beige. Like this:
Besides being butt ugly, it was seriously underpowered. One of my worst memories of it was cramming three other people into it for a trip from Cleveland to Gettysburg, PA. The hills were torture – slow lane all the way. And because I didn’t have the money to replace it, I had that car for 7 long (slooow) years.
I blame its purchase on the Charger, since I needed something quickly after it blew up, and I couldn’t afford much.
I replaced the GL with a Subaru Impreza which served me long and faithfully. I had a tear in my eye the day we had to say goodbye.
I’m the Will Rogers of the car world. Never met one I didn’t like. I guess if I had to pick one under duress, the '69 Jeep Waggoneer was pretty rough. Had a ton of fun and lots of memories, but it was… problematic.
Pulled it out the forest in Northern California, got it running and headed off to Las Vegas. Problem was, the radiator was pretty clogged. Carrying lots of water, the trip took about 18 hours. Had lots of fun out in the desert over the years. Lent it to a girlfriend, and she pretty much blew it up. Sold it to a guy who wanted something to tow his boat. I told him this wasn’t the droid he was looking for, but insisted. Oh well… I also was firm on the price.
I had an 82 US Ford Escort that I ended up not being entirely fond of. It was an OK car with a little bit of "fun to drive a slow car fast’ element to it. But I ended up spending an entire spring break figuring out how to replace its steering rack when it failed. That car was not meant to be disassembled or really even worked on.
Several years later, I was driving it home from work and the check engine light came on. I knew the check engine light on that car was a combo water temp/oil pressure light. I could afford another car, but since I still lived at home, I feared if it was repairable my dad would insist that we fix it. I had had enough of that CVH 1.6, and the cramped engine bay it lived in. I drove it until that engine fused.
You don’t see many of that era Escort on the road these days, and I can see why. It could have been worse, my sister had its near twin. Same year, same color, but an auto transmission and a tendency to vapor lock.
'67 Chevy Chevelle, a.k.a. “the limo.” Big, ugly, 3-on-the-tree; it had some minor body damage that nevertheless told others to stay away because the owner didn’t really care about the vehicle. I think it was bought for $250, driven for about ten years and sold for $75 because it was leaking oil like crazy and the gear shift had broken off. I do not regret seeing the end of that car.
Least favorite would have to be a 2004 Saturn Ion I “inherited” when Mom gave up her driver’s license (at age 95!) What a piece of ticky-tacky crap. Only reason it got driven was that the A/C was out in my truck and I was too cheap to get it fixed.
My first 2 cars and the Saturn are the only non-Nissans I’ve ever owned.
Probably my first car, a '77 Malibu Classic
that was a going-away present from my folks. It was a big, ugly gas-guzzling piece of junk. When it blew it’s transmission, I bought what is (so far) my favorite car, my '86 Mustang GT convertible.
The fourth car I owned was also my first new car; a 1986 Mazda pickup. It was literally the cheapest new vehicle you could buy at the time ($6K including tax and license). I hated it. Horrible ride, lousy turning radius, brakes needed to be done after 20K miles, clutch after 40K. It leaked oil since the first year I owned it. After a year, I would have traded straight up for my previous car; a 1973 Pinto.
My first car was a '63 Chevy Nova wagon and it was awesome–easy on the gas slant six, plenty of room to sleep in the back, great car. However, when the transmission blew and I asked my dad if he could have the mechanic’s shop that supported his racing car rebuild it for me he unilaterally decided to “gift” me his giant '69 Impala and he took my Nova off and probably it was junked. Goddammit. So instead, right as the first oil crisis hit, I went from an easygoing 6 cylinder that took regular gas to a Chevy 350 8 cylinder that required premium. I was on fucking welfare, FFS, who the hell could afford that thing? Plus, no more camping, shitty equipment loading and capacity and ugly as fuck–that beetle green, bleah, with poky torn up vinyl upholstery. What a piece that thing was but I was stuck with it.
I also had the only Toyota pickup in human history that had no durability to it–it demonstrated every single type of headgasket failure that engine was capable of and I was glad when I parked it and replaced it with something more reliable. Didn’t sour me on Toyotas or pickups but that was a pretty piss poor example of the type. I hear it ended its life by catching on fire on the lower deck of the Fremont bridge which was exactly what I’d expect of that ridiculous drama queen of a vehicle.
I’ve had some unquestionably bad cars in my life (a Mustang II, a clapped out Beetle) but even my bad cars had some likeable characteristics. The one that ranks lowest on my list is there because it was so forgettable that I remember almost nothing about it. The exact year, model and color are lost in time. But it was a 2003-ish base model BMW 3 series, that much I recall. We bought it in a hurry when we prevailed unexpectedly quickly in a lemon law claim.
I recall not liking the cheap feeling fabric interior, the anemic base stereo, the weird angle of the steering wheel, the relatively gutless performance. I barely recall driving it, and can’t think of a single trip my wife and I took it on. In fact, I can’t think of a positive thing about it other than we relatively quickly traded it in on a 5 series that was really nice.
I can’t say I really hated any of the cars I’ve owned. I suppose if I had to pick one under duress the 1995 Saturn SL1 I had for quite a long time was the slowest car I ever owned. In the mountains it was pretty much relegated to the slow lane; it could barely go faster than the trucks up a grade. And the interior had lots of annoying rattles. And after I moved to California it kept failing the smog test. But on the positive side it was fairly dependable, and it got amazing fuel economy. And with a stick shift it was kind of fun in the “fun to drive a slow car fast” way @scabpicker mentioned.
I’ve had some truly bad cars, including an F100 that only had two forward gears (neither was first), and a heater that could not be turned off (but no worries, the windows didn’t roll up!), but the king was definitely the Chevy Vega. Not only did you have to drive practically lying down (for sportiness I suppose), but while you were lying there you had to remember to keep your hand on the gearshift knob or it would vibrate so hard it would fly off. That car was such a dog. It was given to my husband as a college student. So it wasn’t really ‘my’ car but I endured it for some years.
My first car was a 1972 Ford Pinto, bought right off the showroom floor. As you may recall, Pintos became known as deathtraps on wheels due to their ability to explode on impact. That had to be my least favorite.
Got rid of that when the lawsuits began piling up and bought a 1979 VW Rabbit, one of the first manufactured in America. It was an oil-burning lemon. That would be my second least favorite.
My parents gave me a car of theirs, a 1976 Chevy Nova, in the mid 80s. It was a comfortable car but awful on any kind of snowy or icy roads. That’s my third least favorite.
After that my luck ran better. I then switched to Nissans, which were pretty good, then to Hondas, which I’ve driven ever since. My 1992 Civic lasted over 20 years and had 305,000 miles on it. I loved that car.
Mine will be the first not driven in the US: A Honda in Okinawa. This was 50 years ago so I don’t remember the model – it was not exported – but it was a sports car bought for $800. It was a front-engine, rear-drive with a manual transmission and your standard driveshaft and differential going to an axle. The driveshaft for reasons I was never able to discern was short, putting the axle about 18 inches in front of the independent rear wheels. The distance in between was taken up by a pair of sprockets and a motorcycle chain on each side at about a 2:1 ratio.
It was not very reliable, starting only when it felt like it and hard to shift so after about six months I decided taking the bus was a better way to go. I drove it to the junk dealer a half-mile down the road and offered it for 10,000-yen, about $150 at the time. The guy refused. I would up giving it to a fellow sailor I didn’t like very much after full disclosure. More than one I heard him drive it past the barracks, the chains purring.
My husband bought a crappy Toyota (a Tercel, I think) when he was stationed in Japan in the 1980s and abandoned it at the Atsugi air station when he left.
American cars were not covering themselves in glory when I bought my two least favorite cars, a 1980 Ford Fairmont and 1985 Chevrolet Cavalier. The Fairmont had a lousy paint job, an uncomfortable seating position that became agonizing on long drives, and some fault in the electrical system that made starting when the engine was hot a coin-flip proposition. The Cavalier was possibly even less exciting than the Fairmont, but there was nothing actually wrong with it, and I consoled myself that I was really driving a stripped down Cadillac Cimarron.
