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Currently, two of TTAC's regular writers are I love Canada. It's really… big. It's big. Sure we discovered insulin and invented the pacemaker and created that game that's a bit like hockey except there's some baskets and a big orange thingy that you bounce around (can't remember the name, tip of the tongue), but really, all true sons and daughters of the North are proud of one thing above all else: Canada's the biggest country in the world. Apart from Russia, of course. We do things big up here. We've got great big hairy bears; sprawling, desolate arctic wastes; vast, unchartable offices filled with incompetent bureaucrats; and huge tall trees – even your own Mitt Romney has remarked, "I love Canada, they got tons of trees up there." Indeed we do: we've also got the longest highway in the entire world. (Except for Russia, or course. And the Australians – but they cheated, the bloody convicts).
As I write these words, I am standing at the beginning (or the end) of the Trans-Canada Highway: mile zero at the foot of Douglas street where it joins Dallas road in a t-junction. Below, the Pacific laps gently at the cliffside shoreline; behaviour that befits its name, the peaceful ocean. Eight thousand kilometres away lies the road's terminus (or its beginning), the capital of Newfoundland, St. John's. Let me just say that again: eight thousand kilometers. Seven time zones. All ten provinces. If I was to jump in my car and drive day and night at an average constant speed of 100km/h – the nominal national speed limit – it would take me three and a half days without an hour's sleep. And I'd still be in the same damn country! Not that you'd notice. Roll into Newfoundland in a car with BC plates on it, and everyone will assume that you're there to sell marijuana. Pull into Victoria in a car with Newfoundland tags and… well nothing much, I suppose. Someone will try to sell you marijuana and then not understand your weird accent, duuuuude.
It's a glorious highway, crossing the majestic Rockies, the billiard-smooth and monotonously boring prairies, the lake-studded Canadian Shield, alongside the Great Lakes, through the national capital of Ottawa and then down through the close-clustered maritime provinces with their brightly coloured fishing villages and clusters of close-harmony coal miners. This year, the Trans-Canada celebrates its fiftieth anniversary, meaning that you've been able to drive clear across this vast nation since the very first MGB hit the road. The road officially opened in September, amidst the towering peaks of the Rogers Pass in my home Province of BC. Prime Minister John Diefenbaker joined representatives from each of the ten provinces in declaring the road open for travel, which was a bit cheeky, considering that a full third of it remained gravel and dirt. It took twenty full years to complete the Trans-Canada properly; it was fully paved by 1970 at a total pricetag of over a billion dollars, or approximately the cost of running our publicly funded medical system for 2.5 hours.
Mind you, the road was still bloody dangerous: dozens would die over the years as the result of icy weather, animal collisions, or just plain falling asleep at the wheel when driving through Saskatchewan, the rectangular-est province. Slow, incremental improvements have improved safety, but the responsibility for upgrades rests not with the federal government, but with each cash-strapped individual province. More than a road, it's a mountain. Any number of charitable causes have been supported by people attempting to cycle, run, walk or propel a wheelchair along its endless length. Perhaps the best-known journey is one that was never completed.
Terry Fox lost his leg to cancer at the age of nineteen. It would take his life in a New Westminister hospital bed at twenty-two. After diagnosis, amputation, and chemotherapy, he came up with the idea of running across the country to raise money for cancer research: his "Marathon of Hope". A stubborn, hitching gait got him from St John's to Thunder Bay, a distance of 5300 kilometres. He would have had four provinces and the Rockies still to conquer. Today, Terry is a national hero, his legacy a lasting one. The road itself is just as important, an umbilicus that connects us all as we huddle against the 49th parallel for warmth.
Most of us will never drive the whole thing. It's too daunting and onerous a task, compared with the relative ease of developing deep-vein thrombosis while entering the fifth hour of being parked on the tarmac in one of the fine aircraft operated by our national airline. The Rockies may be majestic, but the prairies will have you reaching for the fast-forward button, and then there's the long drive back, unlike the Australians with their circular route. Still, there at my feet is mile zero. The first step on a journey that would take me through the land that my immigrant parents chose for me. I'd see things, meet my fellow countrymen, explain to them that I wasn't holding with an apologetic shrug. Someday, I'll make that trip. Not today though, there's a Rita McNeil special on, eh? from The Truth About Cars http://www.thetruthaboutcars.com | |||
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Saturday, June 30, 2012
Fifty Years of the Trans-Canada Highway
Hammer Time: Finding A Cheap Ride
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Most auto auctions will have an 'inop sale' right before the regular sales begins. Inop sales consist of vehicles that don't run for one reason or another. It could need little more than a battery or a fuel pump. Or it could be that the electric system is fried, the engine is toast, and the car is truly worth more dead than alive.
You always take a risk when buying these vehicles. On the worst side of the equation, the car becomes crusher fodder and is sent to an auto recycler for its impending death and dismemberment. About 30% of the vehicles I get from these sales wind up as either junkyard scenery or Chinese raw materials. However if the repair is something simple and cheap… you win!
Last year I managed to get a 1996 Dodge Intrepid with only 28k miles for $400. A couple hundred in repairs, a no reserve sale on Ebay, and I was looking at a surprising $2800 profit. Over the years I've had Subarus that were cheaper than the average monthly finance payment. Old Volvos that found a second life with a new enthusiastic owner, and now, a 1994 SAAB 900 S that… well…
I can't figure out what to do with it. On one side of the equation, an old beater always appeals to the 'cheap' side of our personality. A 'good' cheap car? Even better. Good.. cheap… and Saab? That's a tall order. But lo and behold, there it was in all its Swedish glory.
This particular Saab received more thorough and intensive car than 90+% of the older vehicles at the auctions. You name the part, it works and I have about $6000 worth of maintenance records in the glovebox that back-up the prior owner's almost sadistic level of loyalty. Poor guy.
Even the central dashbarod display that is usually de-pixelated by the time most Saabs hit the decade mark, is picture perfect. I managed to get this car for only $300 plus a $40 auction fee. It was an absolute steal that appears to be as mint as an 18 year old can be. I was lucky. No doubt. But experience in this business has also taught me one important reality of finding good cars on the cheap. When it comes to getting these types of vehicles you have to pretty much, "Hit em' where they ain't."
An 18 year old car from a defunct automaker, base model, 5-speed, in the saddest shade of unmarketable gray represents an awful lot of ain't in this business. Ain't gonna move fast off your car lot. Ain't gonna be drivable for 80+% of your customers. Ain't gonna be coveted by most of the other remaining car shoppers. What also helped was that the inop sale took place far away from the 60+ dealers who regularly attend the sale. Only two dealers other than me watched this vehicle get sold.
It was one of those right place, right time deals. Heck the brand new tires alone were worth close to $200 used and the rest of the car could be crushed and parted out for far more money. As I started the vehicle up and looked around, it was obvious that it was well kept. No obvious engine sludge. No interior stains at all. Not even the typical wear marks that come with an 18 year old runabout.
Given that the name of the vehicle is almost synonymous with expensive repairs, the two other dealers didn't even give it a second glance. The auctioneer 'held' my bid at $300 (I put a fist to my side showing that I would hold him at that price). One of the other dealers started yelling out "$200! $200!" while laughing with his dealer friend, and about seven seconds later the car was mine.
All it needed was a clutch and a shot of freon. A $65 tow. $160 for a new clutch on Ebay. $215 for installing it. One $10 can of freon. A $5 car wash, and it was as good as an old Saab can pretty much be. So my $300 statue of a car is now an $800 fully mobile beater. Which is great, except that it's still an 18 year old base model with 180,000 miles.
Who wants it? Well, maybe me. I could sell my 2001 Honda Insight for $5500 and drive the old Saab until it transforms itself into a piece of highway landscape architecture. Would it last 10,000 miles? 20,000 miles? 50,000 miles? As it is I'm only driving the Insight 5,000 miles a year. The economics of ownership heavily favor the Saab… unless I decide to make my Insight the equivalent of a family heirloom. Since it's a 5-speed Saab I'm probably looking at about $1800 retail. So my opportunity cost in keeping this Saab is only about a third of the Honda. Alternatively, this car can be financed and I could get a bit more than that retail price. But I think I would be pressing my luck given that an old GM Saab simply can't take much abuse. So what's the best decision if you only drive, say, 5,000 commuting miles a year?
To keep a well maintained, cheap, orphan car that you have little money in? Or to drive a more valuable, better engineered hybrid, that will inevitably require an expensive overhaul once the hybrid battery runs out? Keep in mind I'm talking strictly about commuting miles. There is little joy in Atlanta traffic. So what says you? If some distant relative bequeathed a beautiful beater on your driveway, would you use it for your boring tasks and 'cash up' that late model car you drive right now? Decisions… decisions…                 
from The Truth About Cars http://www.thetruthaboutcars.com | |||
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LeMons Arse-Sweat-a-Palooza BS Inspections: British Leyland, Rootes Group, and Searing Heat
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This Week's Most-Read Stories
| The average cost of repairing a vehicle has fallen over the past year, to about $333.93, according to CarMD. Continue reading about repair costs, and our other most read topics of the week, with the links below. 1. Californians: Watch Your Ride from KickingTires http://blogs.cars.com/kickingtires/ | |||
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Junkyard Find: 1980 AMC Eagle Coupe
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The Eagle has landed… on all fours. Huh?                         from The Truth About Cars http://www.thetruthaboutcars.com | |||
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The 
See, purple and red stripes! After 
Members of the 
It was 106 degrees in Denver when I shot this photograph, and even the valve cover looked comfier than this scalding brown vinyl.
The good old AMC 258-cubic-inch L6, the most famous version of a family of engines built from 1964 through 2006. One of the better engines to come out of Detroit, er, Kenosha.
While cars don't rust much in Great Plains Colorado, what with the single-digit humidity, the high-altitude sun is murder on vinyl tops. Someday I'll add a selection of Peeling Vinyl Top images to my 
Because most drivers are just confused by the choice between two-wheel-drive and four-wheel-drive, AMC used a center differential in the Eagle and left it stuck in four-wheel-drive at all times (later versions could be purchased with an optional selector that enabled a fuel-saving rear-wheel-drive setting). This is a four-speed car, but it has "Automatic 4.W.D." according to this dash emblem.
Even by the tolerant standards of 1980, this was a homely-looking car. But try taking your Fairmont or Cutlass up a 45-degree grade in the mud!