..but probably aren’t.
Lamborghini Jarama:
Jensen Interceptor S:
The Jensen in particular is a revelation. We have never really loved the Jarama (nor the Interceptor, for that matter), but the photo above has us re-evaluating the latter. It’s still an oddball, only now an oddball we think we could get behind (albeit to the staggering sum of £75,000).
More of the Interceptor here (worth the click).
Is it weird to say we kinda like it? Certainly, an excellent pic. It’s always a kick seeing big American cars where you’re normally not accustomed to seeing them— the sheer novelty of it. As in, they buy those there? Voluntarily?
Germany somewhere.
Wow— now this gets us excited. We can’t stop staring at this car’s wide rear track, where there normally wouldn’t be any doors.
If only BMW had built this car and brought it to market ten years ago— alas, we all know how that one turned out. We get that the saloons don’t sell as well as the coupés, but it almost seems unfair – nevermind arbitrary – to offer this in the E36 but not the E46, only to offer it again in the E90.
Droolworthy stuff right here. We couldn’t ask for more out of a car.
Sure, our choice of ride would have been different – nothing wrong with a ’58 Caddy, it’s just not our thing (unless we were going to a rockabilly revival dressed in period drag) – but otherwise, you can’t argue with a trip like this. Way to live the life we all want to live, basically.
The story does beg the question, though— given your druthers, and the opportunity, what would you traverse the country in?
Crossing the Country in a Convertible Cadillac
TWO thousand miles into the trip, with another 1,000 yet to go, it was a 30-cent fuse that finally stopped us. But maybe that’s the sort of trouble you have to anticipate when trying to cross the continent in an old car.
Accompanied by my co-driver and longtime photographer-friend, Terry Moore, I started out last fall with a simple goal: drive a classic convertible coast to coast, mostly following U.S. Route 50 because it is one of the most intact, Interstate-skirting east-west roads still on the maps. Just two middle-age guys, wives and worries left behind, the open sun-struck road ahead.
And not in just any old car, but a 1958 Cadillac Eldorado Biarritz, a long-neglected castoff that I bought in South Jersey three years ago and had hauled to Vermont for a rebuild of its engine, transmission and brakes. Otherwise, it remained original — the black paint worn, its red leather tuck-and-roll seat covers splitting at various seams, and whatever mysteries and ailments haunting the wiring, the cooling system and the drivetrain waiting to reveal themselves.
Our hope was for a trip that would reacquaint us with the delights of auto journeys from the days before the anomie of Interstate travel, before cruise control, cup holders and satellite radio became ubiquitous. Radial tires, a portable GPS unit and a third brake light mounted above the trunklid were our only concessions to modernity; a dashboard hula girl named Hulia provided a touchstone to the Eldorado’s era.
We knew that the car would also attract attention — it is not small or subtle — and create opportunities to meet people with stories to tell. It did not take long for the adventures to unfold.
Previously featured here, and one of the best modified examples of an E9 we’ve ever seen. Originally a California car that’s now offered in Virginia, bidding has been active with about four days remaining in the auction. In the E9 forum where the car is also listed, the seller indicates he’s looking for $16.5K, which we think is more than reasonable for the example shown. If only…
Hell of a car for a teenage hoodlum to burgle, a 300SL Gullwing. And we guess he eventually found 1st.
[Ascenseur pour l’échafaud] is an excellent example of “theatre of the absurd”, filmed as a “film noir” suspense thriller. “Theatre of the absurd” posits that the universe is a random entity where nothing is likely to happen as expected. I believe Camus and other French writers of his era were the principle exponents of this view of life. Well, here we have certainly an example (more »).
Hat tip to Jim T. for sending this in!
I first started sketching and drawing cars at the tender age of five, and have always sketched and drawn a “top 12” list of cars that I – an industrial designer and motoring enthusiast – consider to be the best cars ever made. I am a die hard fan of ingenious engineering wrapped in simple, sumptuous curves that give an inimitable driving experience. These attributes are the very essence of industrial design: genuine, accessible, yet highly rigorous in concept, form, and performance. And on this top 12 list of mine sit two Lotuses, the Series 1 Elise and the original 1960s Elan.
..and not because it’s a bad car (it isn’t, clearly), but because of the pesky social stereotypes with which modern BMWs seem to be shackled (though to be fair, it’s not the worst burden to have. Vaguely obnoxious? Yes. Bro car? Not quite, thankfully). And that’s too bad, because by near-universal accounts – professional and non – the E90/E92 drive fantastically, and we’d still love to own one. In fact, assuming we could only own one car, we’d go so far as to say an unassuming gray “stripper” M3 with four doors is the single do-it-all car for living with day in and day out that we’d most want to have, past or present. That’s really saying something.
Our two cents? They look great (or at least good enough). They drive great. They *sound* great. What more could you want? Just ignore the naysayers – we suspect sour grapes, mostly – and enjoy. Like this guy is doing.
Image by Julien Mahiels
Motoring Con Brio 