Old Car Feelings

I bought an old car, even older than the 1977 911 Targa.  It’s a 1969 912 Targa.  The engine is a naturally aspirated four cylinder beast that could be used to power a large lawn mower.  It has power nothing.  Even the windows have cranks. And, oh yeah, it’s got little windwings you can push open for ventilation.  The car came with two keys.  Not a key and a spare key, but a key for the door locks and a separate key for the ignition.  I’ve had it for a week, and still cannot find the air conditioner, which apparently never got put into the car.  There is no power assist with the steering or the brakes.  I actually have to think about turning and stopping before I turn or stop.  And I feel the road through my hands and feet as I drive.  Not the artificial electronically intelligent feelings I get in todays cars, but real, linear, tactile feelings.

The steering wheel is huge by today’s sports car standards, and I must really turn it to make a tight right turn.  There is no traction control or antilock braking.  There is a four speed manual transmission.  The car has carburetors, pre-millennial devices that squirt fuel and air into the engine cylinders, that apparently need to be adjusted frequently and give off the distinct odor of gasoline, an odor that has been eradicated for the most part by technological advances in gas pumps and fuel injection systems.

The Targa top comes off by hand.  There is no button to push on the dash to make it happen.  The gauges are somewhat imprecise devices, designed to have no significant digits and be generally correct, not absolutely right.  They also take up a lot of space because there is no multi-function display to save real estate on the dash.  The aftermarket radio which was installed about 20 years ago is the only digital device in an otherwise analog car.  It is so  far away it is almost out of my reach.  And forget about reading what the buttons say.  The only navigational aid is the small map that may be in the glove box or the Thomas Guide that may be under the seat.  This car will never be part of the Internet of Things.  The car does not have a single computer chip, as the car, despite its state of the art engineering in 1969, was built before computer chips were invented.

It was very disconcerting when I sat in it to drive it the first time.  I felt the 50 mile drive home would be daunting on many levels.  I had to take the freeway.  I was uncertain about the car’s mechanical reliability.  I had nothing to occupy my mind while I was driving.  I had no cell phone to dial or speak on.  I had no text to read.  I had no radio telling me which artist was singing which song.

The first part of the drive was stressful.  I left the gas station intending to putter around the neighborhood for a few miles before I got on the freeway.  I felt that way for a quarter mile.  Then I said the hell with it  and entered the freeway onramp.  It was a little nerve wracking but I did it anyway.  Interestingly enough, by about halfway home I was feeling better.  The car was able to attain freeway speeds, though I knew better than to try to do quick lane changes or fight for position in the line of cars.  I lost the urge to dial the cell phone.  I lost the need to know who was singing while the song was playing.  Hell, I even lost the urge to change the radio station, which was playing some form of modern rock that was out of place in my head.  Of course, I had no idea how to change the station anyway.  Just adjusting the volumne took work.  I liked the way I listened to the wind and focused on the various aspects of driving the car.  When to shift.  When to brake.  How to avoid having to come to a complete stop.  By the time I got home, I was hooked on driving, I mean really driving, this car.  It was fun.  I felt alive.  I felt I added to the experience more than the car did.  I felt connected to it in a way I have never felt connected to a more modern car.  Even though I was still leery about its mechanical reliability, driving it was …..  relaxing and fun.

Speaking of mechanical reliability, I was pretty pleased with the car during my ride home.  Everything but the clock seemed to work pretty well.  Of course, reality hit about 15 minutes after I parked the car in the driveway.  That’s when I noticed the oil leak.