I keep coming back to this—and it’s really bugging me.
I see something like the Colt up above (image: Ed Frank, clutchpics.com, HT: Zimm) and I want it. I want it bad.
It’s not particularly fast, I bet, but I know it’s a blast. Rowing those gears, hearing the big four-pot bark and snarl into the apex; a real life Matchbox car leaning into sticky rubber before being tossed into the next corner.
Yeah. That’s pure motoring pleasure right there and I want.
But I’m tired of dicking with old, neglected vehicles. I’m tired of constantly worrying about squeaks, rattles, smells, and sketchy gauges. I’m tired of holding back on planned repairs because—every time—something else fails and blows my budget to shit while simultaneously inconveniencing my family. It used to be something I was proud of. Now it’s more a constant embarrassment and reminder of shortcomings.
Don’t want the monthly payments associated with buying something new(er) I like. Don’t like anything with monthly payments that I could begrudgingly live with. Don’t want to keep spending time and money on old, neglected shit.
Am I still a gearhead?