My God, it started right up and ran.
Five years after “Rodney” killed the clutch slave cylinder while borrowing it (how ironic), and more than two years after I towed it out of a barn, I popped the hood, put the jumper cables on, and cranked it. Don’t ask me why I let it sit in my garage since March of 2011 without starting it. I’ve been busy.
With just a few thousand dollars’ worth of repair, the little guy would be completely ready to go. But the reason I started it was because I had an offer on it, and another car I’m preparing to buy… What to do?
As some of you know, I’m running a freshly-built Mercedes 450SLC in the Houston LeMons enduro at the end of this month, together with my brother, TTAC managing editor Derek Kreindler, and multiple SCCA national champ Marc Pfannenschmidt. It’s unlikely we will win, but we are certain to have the most awesome car. Unless you don’t consider an R107 hardtop awesome…
THAT’S RIGHT. I thought so.
In any event, I have a chance to pick up an absolutely gorgeous R107 560SL, in the right color, with all the right options, in the right condition, for peanuts. Then I can drive it down to my father’s place in Hilton Head and swan it around with the top off. This is a capital plan. The 560 is the one to have and it can knock on the door of 140mph.
There you have it. Race a 450SLC, drive a 560SL to the South. What could possibly go wrong?
Well, one problem is that I already own four street cars and one race car. So something has to go.
Town Car? I need it for the kid.
Boxster S? Baby momma is using it to go on dates, oddly enough. I’ve driven it once in the past few months.
I have a buyer for it. He’s willing to give me solid 944 money — in other words, about 25 cents on the dollar. And he will make it disappear. But he wanted me to start it first. So I did that. And then I sat in the passenger compartment, and I let John crawl in there with me.
“Daddy, I like our old Por-sha,” he said.
“I like it too, but I think we might have to sell it.”
“So we can roll around here like Robert Wagner.”
“Who is that?”
I think he’ll come around to the idea. But when I see those flared fenders poking out of the garage, when I slide behind the low-slung wheel and experience the general perfection of the idea that was the early Porsche 944, when I look at the real Fuchs wheels… I wonder if I could hold on this and do the SL?