There are so many reasons that could be offered as to why a car shouldn’t sit in a garage its entire life. From dead batteries and flat tires to rodents and seized engines—none of this is good for the car or your pocketbook. My 308 GT4 sat for a quarter of a century untended, so when the fifth owner bought it, he invested well over $40,000 to get it back into drivable condition. The 1980 Porsche 911SC that sold on BAT for $123,000 is just another example. It clearly sat for a number of years based on the milage (12,000!!), title registration status, and the fact the seller had to spend $43,000 dollars to get it into a sellable condition. But, wait, holy wow! Only 12,000 miles?? It must be PERFECT!! I’m here to tell you that low miles does not always equate to great car… but that’s a whole other story for another time. I want to talk about why you should drive your car.
Owning a vintage car takes a special person, someone who knows and loves the car, and someone who’s going to take proper care of it. The problem is, when the market is down and the cars are cheap, people buy the dream cars of their youth and quickly discover the romantic idea of owning that old car isn’t quite the same as actually owning it. These are the folks who only looked at the cost of entry and didn’t take into account the battles one might face when searching for parts, costs, upkeep, and maintenance. Suddenly, the romance is over. All of that is just part of owning a fine piece of art that also happens to be a piece of history too. There is something else that’s an even bigger piece of the ownership experience, and that’s joy.
There’s all types of joy a classic car can bring you; the joy you get from keeping that historical piece of art in good shape, the joy you get when finding that rare part you’ve been searching for the last few months or years, the joy you get from fixing a small or big problem, and the joy you get from driving the car. Some of that is incomparable to anything else you may ever experience in your life, and there’s not much that could compare with the feelings I had when I drove my 308 GT4 home for the first time. The emotions it evoked while driving were something I’d get to experience over and over again. But… there’s another kind of joy that’s far more powerful than any of the others, and that’s the joy it can bring to other people.
Part of owning a vintage car is sharing it with others, that just comes with the territory and there’s no way around it. It doesn’t matter if you own a Ferrari, Porsche, Lamborghini, or a Mustang, Triumph, or VW, if it’s old and you’re out in it, people notice. Granted, some cars are more noticed than others, and I don’t think I quite counted on the “celebrity” status one acquires while driving a 308 GT4. Driving the car can make you feel like a celebrity given the amount of attention and paparazzi that tends to surround the car. My car is a recipe for attention: it’s an eye-catching color, a crazy wedge shape design, and a rare car from a world famous manufacturer, yet no one knows what it is. They get more confounded when they can’t spot a recognizable badge or name plate on the car either.
I often take my Dino out on solo drives through the beautiful back roads of Sonoma County. Along the West coast, through the mountains and forests, and through dozens of small towns. I can’t even tell you number of times I catch people taking a picture or filming, how many folks say something like “nice car!” as I’m at a light or driving by, how many kids scream and holler, how many folks wave, stop and stare, and smile. When I stop to take a quick break, that’s when the real magic happens.
It’s almost a guarantee if you drive a 308 GT4 and you stop for any reason, people will approach you and ask about your car.
Is that a DeLorean?
Is that a Lamborghini?
Is that a Maserati?
Is that a Lotus?
Is that an Alfa Romeo?
That’s usually how the conversation starts. On my most recent drive I passed through a small town called Cazadero. I had only planned on stopping long enough to get a drink and snack, then get back on the road. The cashier was chatting with a customer, looking out the window and taking guesses what kind of car it was. I finally interjected and told them what it was, they both got big smiles and were elated to see the car and speak to its owner, all the while complimenting on what a great looking space ship it was. When I stepped outside I sat on a little bench and ate my snack, drank my water, and watched a few people take pictures of my car.
Two guys on Ducati motorcycles pulled up and stepped over to check out the car, they saw me sitting there and asked if it was mine. Of course, I came down to talk with them and tell them all about it. While we were chatting, three more people appeared, a man parked his truck across the street just to come see the car, a young couple walked up, and before I knew it the car was surrounded by 11 people and I was giving a presentation on the history of the Dino marque, the 308 GT4, and my experience of owning it… oh, and how to pronounce “Dino” (most people read the badge and pronounce it like “Dinosaur” without the “saur”). What I found even more fun, more fulfilling than that, was several folks shared their car stories with me—one man told me of a VW he had growing up, another told me of an old Triumph, another talked about the “Magnum PI” Ferrari a neighbor used to have when he lived in Chicago. Eventually the excitement started to dwindle and after 45 minutes of chatting with complete strangers, I let them know I had to leave and got in the car. There was an eruption of applause, cheers, and laughter when I gave two quick honks of the horn and a wave as I drove off.
This story isn’t uncommon, in fact, this happens every single time I drive the car. This particular instance was the longest I had chatted with folks, but it’s fairly common to spend anywhere from 15 to 30 minutes with complete strangers while chatting them up. They’ll readily share moments of their lives with you, and you’ll do the same, and that’s when you realize just how special cars like this really are. They transcend being just a car, or an old car, and become a part of the lives of everyone you encounter. An excited child went home that day and showed pictures of the “cool car” he saw at the General Store. An old man went home that day and told his wife of the vintage Ferrari he saw and how it reminded him of his youth. A young couple took a selfie with the car and shared in on social media. A few people learned of the rich history that surrounds this car and its marque. And I hope at least one of them spoke kindly of the man who owned the car and spent all that time talking with them.
Of all the reasons why you need to drive your car, I think this is the most important and most fulfilling one. You’re not just living the dream, it’s nothing as egotistical and self-centered as that. You’re an ambassador of vintage cars everywhere, you’re piquing the interest of someone who may have never noticed cars before, you’re cultivating car culture by sharing your love and enthusiasm (and it’s contagious). And sometimes you’re the bright spot in someone’s day. Bring joy to someone’s life—get out and drive! And remember, a car with low miles has no stories to tell.
One response
Great story Chris. I too found that bringing a classic car somewhere in the wild, or even to a car show with like minded enthusiasts, often turned into a story sharing session where I got to learn about their past experiences–which made the whole thing feel like a shared experience. It happened everywhere I went and I thought it was surprising at first and now it’s the thing I enjoy the most about taking my cars somewhere and interacting with others.