Oh gods, those are shit with four wheels. My family used to have one, and quite frankly, I’m surprised that your bucket of bolts didn’t collapse into a million pieces in your driveway three months after the warranty ended, like everyone else’s did. It’s the only vehicle we ever owned that we shudder to remember.
I’ve only ever had one car of my own, and I like that one quite a bit. Even though it can be a pain in the ass sometimes.
I’ve been pretty lucky so far with my cars, but my brother on the other hand…case 1: Fiat Spider- I know, your thinking “Fiat! well, duh!”. It looked really nice, but it was evil. Lots of electrical problems(opening the air vent disconnected power to the fuel pump) which kept him busy until the mechanical problems set in. Finding parts was like searching for a grail. Eventually traded it in for case 2: Chrysler Lebaron convertible-not the good kind, the K-car kind. It talked (“A door is ajar”) and had more electrical problems. He had an engine fire in the McDonalds drive thru:
McSurlyTeen employee: Welcome to McDonalds, may I help you?
Santino’s Brother: Do you have any fire extinguishers?
McTeen: Did you say Fire Extinguishers?
S’sB: Yes, could you hurry?
McTeen: Is your car on fire?
SB: Yes, I believe it is.
McTeen: Please drive PAST the 2nd window!!
I have two candidates, a 1971 VW 411 and a 1975 Chevy Chevette.
We got the VW in Germany through the Canadian PX from a dealer in Kaiserslautern. The thing was a big square back. I think it was not sold in North America but there were a fair number or of them in Europe. The car was not designed for winter on the northern prairie. By reason of quality German engineering the air intake was just above the exhaust pipe. When it was really cold the first burst of warm moist exhaust was sucked into the air intake and into the engine where it promptly frosted the spark plugs. The only way to fix it without towing the car to a heated garage was to remove the spark plugs and take them to a warm place. One time warming the spark plugs involved sticking the frozen hunks of metal and ceramic in my pockets for 15 minutes. No fun at all in a remote parking lot in the middle of the January freezes up.
The Chevette was under powered and under weight. With two 200 pound guys and a stiff head wind it would top out at 45 mph. If parked where it was at all slippery and there was no passenger or Helpful Charlie around, it was necessary to put the car in gear and get out and push it your self, in the hope that you were quick enough to catch up with it before it hit anything. On top of everything else it was pumpkin orange and genuinely uncomfortable.
Well my worst car would have been my first, a clapped-out '65 Buick Wildcat 4-door purchased for the lordly sum of $350.00 in 1973 dollars. Known derisively to my friends as “the brown submarine”. Four bald snow tires and a funny smell inside. That would be mildew; the area around the windshield was rusted out, so when it rained outside, it rained inside as well.
OTOH, the 'Cat’s massive 455 V8 was healthy, so it wasn’t all bad.
And that thing was a peach compared to some of the hideous vehicles my poor beknighted parents have owned. Consider this hall of shame:
'66 Ford Country Squire (light blue and fake wood do NOT go together)
'67 Renault Dauphine (bought new, junked at 22,000 miles)
'71 Fiat 850 Spyder
'72 Chevy Vega
'74 Chevette (in yellow yet; looked like a clown car)
'79 Chevy Citation
'85 Chrysler LeBaron (the tarted up K-car)
Plus a long series of used Ford and GM beaters that always seemed to develop some major life-threatening fault within a month of purchase (meaning they were probably that way on the lot). We finally had to sort of force my father to stop making the car purchasing decisions.
I’ve only had two cars and they’ve both had their problems.
The Subaru can be forgiven, I suppose, because I paid $50 for it. But it had horrible brakes even after I had most of the system replaced, the 4-cylinder engine was so incredibly weak I couldn’t go over 30 up a hill, and the exhaust system… well, the straight-pipe had holes in it that the previous ownher had patched over with what looked like tinfoil or something, and the muffler was held on with a clothes-hanger. It fell off a lot before I finally went to the farm next door and borrowed some hay-baling wire to stick it up with. It died when the motor literally burst into flames while I was driving to work one August day.
The Cavalier is what I drive now. It’s a z-24. Looks like this only black.
Things that have gone wrong with this car:
It has a digital dashboard with speedometer, odometer, gas gauge, oil temp, oil pressure, outside temp, battery indicator and the standard “check engine” lights. Of those, only the outside temperature, speedometer and odometer function properly. Both oil gauges are completely nonfunctional - they don’t even light up - because the connectors in the engine compartment are made of plastic and have melted from motor heat. Since the fuel gauge doesn’t work, I have to judge when to refuel based on my gas mileage.
The starter died, slowly and fitfully. A couple times I was stranded far from home with an automobile that refused to start; I’d call my parents to rescue me, Dad would show up with his pickup, get out the tools and start to look at my car, and it would start right up, leading me to believe that I was just a moron who didn’t know how to start her own car. Nope, it was a real problm, and it eventually died completely and had to be replaced.
Incidentally, while the starter was dead, someone broke into my car and apparently tried to steal it. Their efforts f***ed up my steering wheel - the tilt wouldn’t lock. My father is getting the steering wheel fixed next weekend.
The death of the starter, of course, wreaked havoc with the rest of the electrical system. I didn’t notice at all because the symptoms were so slow. In fact, I didn’t know anything was wrong until the night I took my friends to the mall and on the way home the car died on the highway - the battery and alternator had gone over.
That night was also marred by the realization that my fuel pump had a dead spot which, combined with the electrical problems, made it impossible to accelerate at all or decelerate past a shifting point. Somehow the fuel pump problems made my transmission not realize it was supposed to downshift at certain points. That ride home was an anxious one, as we were stuck driving over 60 the entire way home… finally I managed to slow down to 45, and then the whole thing stalled and we were stranded in a small town ten minutes before we would have been home safe.
We replaced the battery, starter, alternator, and fuel pump. The car ran well. Then the exhaust system needed to be replaced, because my 2.8 V6 was starting to outdrown my neighbor’s 8cyl race car when he ran motor tests.
Finally all the mechanical problems were taken care of… now it leaks. The sunroof leaked when we bought it and the whole car smelled musty. We resealed and resealed and adjusted and resealed the sunroof and it still leaked. Finally we just gave up and caulked it shut. It still leaks when it rains really hard, but I’ve found the leaky spot and we’re going to caulk over it again. The trunk leaks too, and we haven’t found that leak yet. We’ve tried every trunk-sealer-leak-preventer thing in Wal*Mart, Pep Boys and Parts America, without any luck.
The crazy thing is that I still love that car.
A 1977 Ford Thunderbird. It was bad, really bad. I don’t even want to talk about it. Whatta lemon.
My parents bought a Ford Pinto. You’d think it couldn’t get worse. It did. They gave up on the Pinto and traded it in… towards a Plymouth Volare. One day we’re rolling down the road hopin’ and prayin’ that no one hits us. The next, we’re thinking, “A good rear-end crash would probably improve this thing.”
You know it’s bad when you’re happy to hear they’ve sold the heap and put a down payment on a Ford Escort.
The only car I’ve personally owned that has been trouble was an '88 VW Golf… and that wasn’t the car’s fault, really. The previous owners had pretty obviously abused the poor thing. No wonder it was dirt cheap.
Well, I’ve been pretty lucky compared to most of you. When I was about 16 my father bought me a 1975 Lincoln Mark IV. This would have been around 1987ish. It was completely rusted out. It had the typcial vacuum leaks so the headlight covers were always up when the car was off. The doors were about 6 ft long and weighed about 300lbs each. It was HUGE. It also had a big-ass 460 to go along with it. I remember once my dad took me out for a spin (I didn’t have my drivers licence yet). We were going up a hill and he floored it. That big 4bbl carb opened up and there was a hearty roar. Then it happened… the dual exhaust promptly fell off and we were dragging 2 mufflers and tailpipes from the ass end of the car. Of course, this also happened at night so it looked like Halley’s comet was racing up the hill.
And man, without those mufflers it was LOUD. I sold it for $500 and then bought my 1979 280ZX. It was 20x the car that POS was.
Mine was a 1983 Oldsmobile Cutlass. What a tub o’ crap. It had a V-5. Luckily I was able to fix it and make the sixth cylinder fire. 200,000 miles. Rust everywhere. I got it for free. My grandma’s neighbor said, “If you can get it to start and get it out of the driveway, I’ll give it to you.” I had to smack the starter solenoid with a hammer to get the starter to engage. And because of the earlier mentioned misfire, it stil took me three hours to start.
Ah memories!
im sitting here trying to think of which car to pick and i have it narrowed down to 2, when it strikes me: THEY ARE BOTH JEEPS! (JEEP= Junk, Each & Every Part or Just Empty Every Pocket)
65’ waggoneer or 73 commando
i really cant blame either one, cause i bought them in “project stage”
the 65 i literly pulled out of the forest, abandoned. i made it run, and the next day set off for vegas. took 17 hours (5 1/2 is normal) plugged radiator. actually got it running pretty good, then lent it to a girlfriend who proceeded to distroy it. sold it to an “optimist”
the commando strands me with depressing regularity, but i like the challenge. when it is running well, it is unbeatable off-road. when it is not running well, i end up walking alot. i really do like it, though.
I keep reading these posts and automatically thinking, “What do you mean, rusted out?”
You snowpeople have it bad. Around L.A. you can see original 60s Mustangs on the road, and no, they aren’t restored.
[Counts blessings]
1988 VW Fox. I bought it so that my daughter could have my '93 Grand Am SE. POS from Day One. I have a thing for VW’s, BTW. Spent waaaaayyyyy too much money keeping it alive. I now have a '94 Escort Wagon. I bought it with 114,000 miles. Recently had a vacuum leak fixed and it runs like a top. A slow top, albeit, but a top nonetheless. I’m getting 28 MPG. Until my ex-mechanic dies, I’ll never buy a used VW again unless a restored '68-'74 Karmann Ghia convertible comes along.
Mmmmmmmmmmmmm…Karmann Ghia convertible…
Without question, my biggest heartache was my 1967 Eldorado. I was a fool. It was sitting on a lot, all polished up, looking like a million bucks. For 1,500 bucks it sure seemed like a good deal.
Driving it home from the dealer, the calipers locked up on the rotors, causing the break lines to snap, and spray break fluid all over the red hot rotors. After putting out the fire I spent 6 weeks searching for parts to repair it. I quickly learned about the little issue with this particular make & model. It seems Cadillac decided to make the 67 El Dorado their first FWD vehicle. For whatever reason the abandoned this concept for a few years, so suspension & break parts for the 67 were effectively 1 of a kind. After the fire it was 1 suspension issue after another. I even ended up having leaf springs custom fabricated for me. Overall I spent tens of thousands of dollars on this POC just to keep it on the road.
One day, after hitting an especially large bump, the shocks gave way, and the entire frame of the car crashed down. All 4 tires were shredded, and ended up ripping up the paint around the wheel wells. It was a disaster. In fairness though, the few times it was running without issues it was tough to beat. It cruised on the highway like nobodies business.
good evening friends,
i have driven a long line of junk.
1972 pinto, bought new. about a year later, all of the paint fell off of one side.
1979 chevy malibu a 267 v8. harder than chinese algebra to work on, and handled like a pig on roller skates in the snow.
1979 datsun 210 station wagon. actually a mechanical wonder. very reliable, always started and ran. it just rusted out so bad that the body fell apart.
1975 opel manta difficult even now to talk about. it came with a spare transmission.
1980 (or so) chevy silverado pickup. every part i replaced on this truck had yellow junk yard info on it. i think the former owner put it together like a jigsaw puzzle. who would buy a heater core from a junkyard? a new one was $12.50 it never ran well, and the driver side door quit opening a few weeks after i bought it.
i now have two vehicles. a 1983 ford 4x4 f-150 not bad for the $1000.00 i paid for it, and a 1977 chevy nova with less than 50,000 miles. inherited from my mom. the nova had never been parked outside over night until mom died.
when i am very good, my wife lets me drive her 2001 toyota rav4.
It had an aluminum engine with a 50,000 mile warranty.
Mine melted down at 51,500 miles.
Spooje:
You don’t really need a van for great sex. Any car with a tilt steering wheel has plenty of head room.
(1982) My 1978 Saab turbo. POS to the max. In the shop more than out. While the Saab Story was in the shop, yet again, for 6 weeks waiting for parts, my friend, a car dealer loaned me a 1980 T-Bird. That POS caught on fire twice, and actually died in my driveway. When I told my friend, who is a supermechanic, that it wouldn’t start he came over and tried to get it running. He couldn’t. He hauled it directly to the salvage yard on his car hauler, and parted it out. (1984) The Saab died on the side of the road near Texarkana Arkansas. I had it towed to a garage in Texarkana. I took the plates off, took the registration, and left it there.