My Tortured Relationship with “Survivor” Cars
The traffic on Oregon 26 approaching Portland’s Vista Ridge Tunnels had just started to get a little heavy when a pickup suddenly changed lanes in front of me. Evidently, they were trying to catch the last exit before the tunnel. Traffic came to a standstill at that precise moment, and when the truck jammed on its brakes, the nose of my 1976 BMW 2002 slammed into his bumper. Because of the height difference, the truck’s bumper smacked the vintage Bimmer straight in the twin kidneys. What had been a nearly perfect, original paint, preservation class 2002 was a write-off. And it happened on my watch.
PTSD is way too strong a term for the after-effects of losing an automobile, but that accident happened almost 20 years ago and it has permanently altered my ability to happily own a preservation class/survivor type of car. It made me shift gears more than just a little bit in terms of what I look for when buying a car.
At the outset, it’s probably important to clarify what we’re talking about.
The term “survivor” gets thrown about willy-nilly. In actuality, it’s a trademarked term owned by the Bloomington Gold Corvette people. Roughly translated, a Survivor should have the majority of its original finishes intact on the body, engine compartment, interior, and underside, and those finishes should be well-preserved enough to serve as a template for restoring a similar car.
Although formally applied only to Corvettes, my ’76 BMW, originally from dry Northern California, met all of those criteria. Its Mint Green paint (actually more of a lime green shade) was totally original, the underside untouched down to the muffler, and the interior, save for a removable dash cover (which saved the dash from cracking) was perfect as well. The thing is, I didn’t think much of it. Even by the beginning of the 2000s, it was still just a nice, used car. It wasn’t until a few years later, when I went to Bloomington Gold boot camp, that I realized what I had, and what was lost on that day in Portland.
About 10 years after the accident, I tried to replace the all-original 2002. As hard as I tried to find a similar car, I just couldn’t. I found a lot of once-rusty repaints, all at several multiples of the $5000 that I paid for the Mint Green car. If perfect, unrestored 2002s still existed, they weren’t being offered on the open market anywhere that I could tell, or at any price that I could afford. I settled on an impossibly clean 1989 325i cabriolet with a five-speed manual. I found it in maybe the most unlikely place to locate a rust-free vintage BMW—Lansing, Michigan. Its Alpine White paint looked like it could have been applied the week before, the Cardinal Red leather interior didn’t even have any wear on the bolsters, and the top looked new. The car showed about 50,000 miles, and I remember wondering if any of those had been joyful, given the owner’s over-the-top obsession about the condition of the car.
As it turned out, this was a fairly prescient observation, because very few of my miles in the car could qualify in any way as joyful. My experience in the 2002 made me hate driving in any kind of traffic. The thought of the smallest fender-bender made me realize that I now lived 2000 miles away from the only painter that I knew who could properly match and blend the car’s ancient but pristine paint. And while I thought it would be fun to throw my kids and their car seats in the back to enjoy a convertible for many lovely Ann Arbor summers, the thought of what their car seats were doing to the perfect Cardinal Red seats (even with two towels underneath each) just ate at me. And then there was their habit of climbing into the back seat not by tilting the seat back forward, but by stepping on the passenger’s seat and the center console. That drove me bonkers.
I was becoming Cameron Fry’s dad—the obsessive father from Ferris Bueller’s Day Off who drove his kid to extreme neuroticism because he wouldn’t let him so much as breathe on his car. That thought was terrifying. I didn’t want to be that guy, the person who raised car-resenting, neurotic kids. I sold the perfect 325i ‘vert’, and replaced it with something the same, but very different.
On a trip to LA, I ran across a Dakar Yellow/Dove Grey 1995 E36 BMW M3 convertible with a 5-speed. The car had almost 100,000 miles on it, not perfect, but certainly not a rat. Most importantly, the rear bumper was a shade off the rest of the car, there was a minor blend in the trunk lid, and the grey leather had been nicely re-dyed at some point. This was a car that had already accumulated some bumps, some stories, and some Carfax notes. But my time with that M3 was long, happy, and worry-free. I loved it, and my kids could climb in and out of it any way they damn well pleased. It was all the more fun this way, and fun is the whole point of this hobby, isn’t it?
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I have dash cams on all my cars. Years ago an idiot in a beat up truck drove into the side of my Capri. Cop came and said he could not determine fault as he didn’t witness it. I seldom drive my 98 M3 all original very rare Alpine white with Modena interior to avoid such a situation as the author had to endure. I have no problem driving my 72 Corvette as it is not a top flight car but still very nice. Having Hagerty coverage helps me sleep better.
I guess I just don’t get having a vehicle that I am afraid to drive, for fear of scratching it (or worse). For me, driving is the fun. Give me a nice driver condition vehicle every time.
Back in 2020 I had bought a pristine, one owner 1995 Camaro Z28. It was located in Massachusetts about an hour northwest of Boston. It required 2 6+ hour trips from my home in central Delaware. It was a beautiful black with graphite leather every single option six speed manual with complete documentation from the day he bought it off the showroom floor in New Hampshire just a short drive away.
It was cared for and stored from October to April to shield it from the harsh New England winters. I proceeded to trailer it home due to 20+ year old tires and make it as perfect as possible by using only NOS GM parts and driving it sparingly. After owning it for just under a year, I was crashed into by a Subaru Forester in a supermarket parking lot with enough force to deploy both front airbags. It was a total. The once pristine nose looked like it went 5 rounds with Mike Tyson. The perfect uncracked dash was shattered into many pieces. I did absolutely nothing to cause this but it happened in my care. What once was able to survive 25 plus years I ruined in less than 1. I don’t buy or drive nice survivor cars since that day. I buy shitboxes for a few thousand dollars and drive it like what I paid for it. Other drivers car drive however they want, lest they want to tangle with a body-on-frame ex-DE State Police Crown Victoria. Want to ride my ass with your brand new ride with super bright LED headlamps? Fine. I’ll test my drilled & slotted PowerStop rotors and pads and you can test out your insurance and car rental coverage. Am I bitter? Heck yeah, and you want to drive like an entitled idiot? I got a two plus tons answer to your rude driving…
I bought a 2002 Honda S2000 in August 2018 with 157000 kms indicated. It looked good with some visible RR quarter damage and nearly new wheels from a newer year. A dealer told me that the rotors were aftermarket (vented) and I knew that the brake pads were not Honda stock. The original wheels were included but they need restoration. I bought new tires, changed the fluids, passed the safety check and my wife and I have enjoyed the car as a summer driver around countryside roads for six summers which have added a few bumps and bruises. It doesn’t matter as I intend to keep the car until I can’t get in or out of it (I’ll be 82 this summer) by which time we probably won’t be able to afford gas for it anyway. Keep on driving!
Through the years I’ve had several cars that provided great driving memories, but I had no idea what I would do if wrecked, including a 1965 Maserati Mistral that the original owner warned me had a fiberglass coated aluminum body…I assume he was correct. I recently sold my very original 1979 TVR 3000S and bought a 2007 BMW Z4, which Is making my recent driving more carefree.
First collector car bought in 1996, 69 GTO convertible, survivor car. service replacement 400, all correct dates etc. she’s been in continuous service since I’ve owned her. Family owned 68 Camaro convertible since 1977 4 speed 350, rare, one year color. completely original all numbers matching. Low mileage C5 bought from an Inlaw in 2014 second owner, 68 Firebird four speed HO 350 drivelines all original app upgraded it to four-wheel discs QA one front, shocks and 2” drop spindles. my retirement present to myself is my 22 ZL one Camaro. I drive the you know what out of all them. I understand your pain, Beamer guy. One of my dailies got injured the other day a drunk in a parking lot backed up and wounded the bed of my 03 2500 HD pick up. It’s a hell and back truck with over 200,000 miles on it. I understand the garage queen thing a bit, it’s just not for me. fun article! by the way, the engine is sick on the 68 Camaro. I have another 350 ready to go-the numbers matching motor will get a restoration quality rebuild. I don’t think I’ll reinstall the original factory air-conditioning we don’t use it anyway and it looks a lot nicer without it… I do keep all original parts removed when I modify my cars just in case somebody down the road wants to preserve originality.
I can totally relate; I have a ‘61 Cadillac Fleetwood 60S with 27k original miles, and original everything. But the cloth on the drivers seat is getting a bit threadbare in places. I could have the seat redone, which would make the interior look perfect, but destroy the originality. So when not show/displaying I sit on a thick bath towel when driving., at least until I sort out this dilemma.
A car is meant to be enjoyed. Pristine or not, enjoy it and put many happy miles on it.
Today I dropped off my 1992 Miata with just over 40,000 miles at the body shop. Purchased this clean and original Miata in August of last year. One week later someone backed into it at the gas station. I believe in driving old cars but I wish the SUV drivers talking on their phone while navigating a crowed parking lot would stay at home. The body shop assures me they can easily match the paint. I’m anxious. We’ll see on Friday!
I got into Corvettes about forty years ago, and my current ride is a 2013 C6, Grand Sport Convertible. I spent about two years looking for this specific car, and it only had about 12,000 miles on it when I bought it in 2018. Since then I have only added about 2,000 miles as I find myself not only afraid to drive it for fear of something happening to the car, but also don’t want to put additional miles on it, in order to keep it more original.
I have owned many “original” cars in my life, and they have all been drivers, including a 1964 GTO with a 421 and tri-carb setup, and 1967 GTO, as well as a 1974 BMW 2002tii, a 633csi, and a 325csi. Up until now, I have not been at all reserved about driving my cars, and after reading your article I have realized that the reason that all those cars are special to me was because they were all drivers, regardless of their condition, or value. So, I think I’m going to start getting the C6 out of the garage, and put some miles on it instead of saving it for someone else to enjoy.
Thanks for the article.
Dutch
Poor Kermit! What a bummer that was, Rob.
in 2000, I bought a pristine ’66 Corvette Coupe with a 327. It just seemed to be a well restored car to me. It turned out to be the fully matching numbers, never hit car. It had been repainted but, was spectacularly clean and undamaged. I had it for six years and put under 500 miles on it, all to and from car shows. I finally gave up, sold it and bought a ’72 Corvette 350 convertible. It was nice but not perfect. I drove it and enjoyed it. I’ve finally completed that trajectory; bought a then-new C8 in ’22. I’m driving it like it can be replaced because, it can be.
I couldn’t agree more with this article. When my kids were little I owned a near-perfect 1992 Z28. Never knew how big of an ass I could be about a car until I saw them pulling wagons and walking their bikes next to it. Sold it after 9 months, most of which it was stored in my garage for the winter. 19 years later I found a sub-7K mile example and bought that one too, but it was way too nice to drive. I dropped it like a hot potato again 9 months later and used the proceeds to fund a year of college for one of those previously little kids who used to threaten my first pristine Camaro. Much better choice. Probably done with Camaros, but give me a pre-scratched car any day of the week.
I would have saved that ’76 and made it a long-term project to restore. But, separate from that, if you want to ever consider another ’76 that is stored and original; I have a close friend who bought hers new and my son maintains it for her. Not specifically for sale, but I would see if she would let me send pictures or make time for a visit. Bought in Minnesota when at Mayo, brought to California when at Stanford, now in SoCal where she is retired. Perhaps Hagarty can allow you to contact me.
Separately, if you want another “survivor” story/article, I can provide one.
Thanks, Rob. Sorry for your loss… Survivor cars were fun when they were cheap. My principle has been to sell anything that appreciates as soon as it reaches a value I would not be happy to lose, and to replace it with something I can actually afford to own (and lose, if it comes to that) on my more than adequate but not lush income. Since I have lived most of my adult life in places very far from the major car markets, I have bought what was available that appealed to me without trying to seek out my “all-time-favourite” cars (such as a Roundie BMW 2002, or a Jensen FF), since I was not going to be able to find a decent example anywhere accessible to me anyway. I did let a very, very clean survivor Maserati Ghibli get away for CDN$22,000 in around 2001 because it had an automatic and that did nothing for me — I sure wish I had bought it! I would long since have sold it by now, of course…