Is All Fair in Love and Vintage Cars?

If I’m interested in a car and make contact with a seller but it’s not a drop-everything-and-show-up-with-cash-and-a-trailer situation, I’ll often say, “Let me think about it. If it sells, it sells. All’s fair in love and vintage cars.”

It’s a throw-away line, but it raises the question: What is fair? I think most of us would agree that there’s a special place in hell for people who sell a car out from under us when they’ve agreed to show it to us and we’re already on the way, but there’s even some gray in that.

The question was shoved to the forefront last week in an interaction over a 1971 Lotus Elan +2 (often written as “Plus 2”). The way it spun out left a bad taste in my mouth.

If you don’t know what an Elan +2 is, it’s a cool car. While the 1962–73 Lotus Elan was the 1500-pound, fiberglass-on-steel-backbone, front-engine two-seat roadster whose look was cribbed by the Mazda Miata, and while the Lotus Europa was the polarizing but well-balanced mid-engine two-seat coupe built from 1966 to 1975, the Type 50 Elan +2 of 1967–75 is a car that many people don’t know exists. It got the “Elan” name, and it’s sort of a stretched Elan. It’s two feet longer and about eight inches wider, and it uses the same basic fiberglass-on-steel backbone, with four-wheel independent suspension and four-wheel disc brakes. Power comes from the same iteration of the front-mounted Lotus-Ford Twin Cam engine, but the +2 is a completely different car; the frame, the fiberglass panels, the glass, and the interior and trim parts are not interchangeable with the Elan roadster. I think the 2000-pound Elan +2, the “family man’s Lotus,” is a beautiful car, particularly the ones with the two-tone roof. And, unlike my Europa, the Elan +2 looks good from every angle. I saw one for the first time when I drove my just-resurrected and barely-running ’74 Europa Twin Cam Special to the Lotus Owners Gathering in Sturbridge, Massachusetts, in 2019, and I was instantly transfixed by both the car’s lithe, unique exterior lines and the quintessentially British dashboard. And if all this sounds a bit familiar, I did write about it when I had a look at a drivetrain-less Elan +2 a few years ago.

As was the case with the Elan roadster, there were iterations in the +2’s trim and the power of the twin-cam engine. The Elan +2S succeeded the +2 in 1968 with nicer cabin appointments. In 1971, the +2S received the same so-called “Big Valve” twin-cam engine as the Elan Sprint and the Europa, and the new version was designated the “+2S 130,” which represents the engine’s 126 horsepower rounded up. This is a bit misleading for U.S.-spec cars, though, as the Federal version of the so-called “Sprint specification” engine was detuned with lower compression, I believe different camshafts, and emission controls. Further, the U.S.-spec engines had Stromberg carbs instead of Webers like the Euro cars. And the carbs couldn’t simply be swapped, either, as different intake manifolds were actually cast into the head. In fact, a substantial portion of the power boost reportedly came from modifications to the Weber-specific intake runners. The totality of these difference resulted in the Federal-spec “Big Valve” engines having a reported 113 hp. Lastly, there’s the uber-rare Elan +2S 130/5, the only +2 with a five-speed gearbox, all of which were reportedly right-hand-drive cars. In total, about 5200 +2s were built, with as few as 153 +2S 130 cars reportedly sold in the United States. So it’s a rare car—and a desirable one for Lotus nuts..

However, one of the problems with having resurrected a 40-year-dead 1974 Europa Twin Cam is that I know how much it cost me to do so, so there’s no fooling myself in thinking that reviving a dead Elan +2 would be any different. The Lotus-Ford Twin Cam engine is a wonderful little mill with a surprising amount of midrange torque for a 1558-cc four-banger, but the fact that it has a boutique Lotus twin-cam head on top of a Ford Kent pushrod block means that the entire front timing case is unique to the engine, and it includes a water pump that’s integrated with the cover instead of being a simple bolt-on part. This means that replacement of the water pump requires removing the front timing cover, which in turn usually means pulling the head and the pan. At least, though, in the Elan and +2, the engine’s in the front, so you don’t have to pull the engine as you do in the mid-engine Europa. This is one of the reasons Lotuses developed their “Lots Of Trouble Usually Serious” reputation—many of these cars developed a leaky water pump from sitting, and when the owners learned the cost of replacing it, the cars were parked, often for decades. When I saw the needy +2 a few years ago, I decided that, to make the numbers work, I’d need to get it basically for free.

So, with that backdrop, you can see why I was excited by the following ad on Facebook Marketplace. The ad said “Elan,” but the photos clearly showed a +2:

“Posting for my dad (who is not a tech savvy guy): For Sale: Lotus Elan Project or Parts Car. Are you a classic car enthusiast or a restoration expert? Here’s a unique opportunity to own a piece of automotive history! Car: 1972 Lotus Elan. Condition: Non-Running. Title: No Title Available (not needed in RI due to its age). Ideal For: Project Car or Parts. This iconic Lotus Elan is perfect for someone looking to embark on a restoration project or in need of rare parts. Though it doesn’t run and comes without a title, it boasts a solid fiberglass body and numerous original components. Location: Rhode Island (RI). Transport: Buyer must arrange own transport after purchase Price: $1,000 or best offer.”

The ad had been up for just 26 minutes, making it possible that I might be the first one to respond. However, although the price was appealing as hell, the poor cell phone photos showed a basket case—the body was rough and the car was sitting outside in the dirt.

The one bad pic of the interior showed a dashboard with much of the wood veneer peeling, wires hanging, and a missing door panel.

Still, “$1,000 or best offer” is as close to free as you’re going to find an Elan +2. I messaged the seller (well, the seller’s daughter), explaining that I was a vintage Lotus owner up in Boston who could come down immediately, could make decisions quickly, and had cash. She said she’d forward my message to her father, and gave me his cell number. I immediately called and left a message on his voicemail as well as texted him the same info.

While I waited to hear from him, the wheels spun in my mind. Realistically, the car was likely a mildewed, mouse-urine-reeking wreck from sitting outside. The engine was probably seized, and the lack of a title would be problematic in Massachusetts. However, if the seller had an old registration, that would be enough to register the car here. But who knows? If the +2 had all three of those strikes against it, it made no sense, but maybe I’d get lucky and it had only one or two. And maybe I’d open the hood and find not only the “Big Valve” lettering on the valve cover, but Webers and no emission controls, indicating the car was a true European +2S 130. I’ve learned that you never know until you actually lay eyeballs and hands on a car. It may speak to you in surprising ways. Of course, in speaking to you, it may do a Gandalf (“Fly, you fool!”).

I never heard from the owner that night. Or the following morning. A few hours later, the ad was taken down. Shortly after, I received a two-word text from him: “It’s sold.” Sigh. On the one hand, like I say, all is fair in love and vintage cars. But on the other hand, I’d answered the ad when it had been up for 26 minutes. How fast do you need to be? I posted the episode on Facebook, along with the pics of the ratty car. My friends jumped all over me for even considering such a basket-case and universally agreed that I’d dogged a bullet. Even my endlessly supportive wife commented, “Whew!”

Then, just one day later, the car was back up on Facebook Marketplace. I was stunned to see it advertised by a different seller—for eight thousand dollars. The ad showed the freshly washed car outside a repair facility in an industrial park and read: “Storage fresh 1971 Lotus Elan 2s 130-5. Car is complete, motor turns freely. Rare car less than 1000 of these made low production tag number #159. Fiberglass body steel frame dual cam 5spd. Spare and tool kit is complete. Fiberglass is in good shape frame has no rot. Car needs full resto!!!”

Okay. First, “Storage fresh” my butt.

Second, to use my own words, was this “fair?”

I have to say, I was pissed. To be clear, it wasn’t as if the car was sold out from under me. The owner had never contacted me, so I’d made no appointment. And I can’t say I would have even bought it. But I really wanted to go see it and make that judgment for myself. The guy who snagged it was in a town much closer to Rhode Island than I am. He likely responded just before or just after me and probably said “I will be there in 30 minutes with a trailer and cash and will buy it,” which is not something I would have said (too risk-averse) or could have done (no trailer).

But two things really bothered me. The first is that, to me, someone swooping in, buying the car, towing it to his business, washing it, verifying that the engine wasn’t seized, looking up enough information to flag it as an Elan +2s 130, taking 21 admittedly better cellphone pics, and reposting it didn’t come close to being enough work to justify octupling the price, particularly when the car had no title either before or after the flip.

The second is that there are thousands of cars out there for flippers to flip. Emotionally, spiritually, big-circle-of-automotive-life-wise, I feel in my bones that a car like this really should have gone directly from the owner to someone who will love it. I posted this second episode with the car to Facebook, and the near-universal outcry was “flippers are scum and are ruining the vintage car world.” The lone dissenter was the guy I nearly bought the TVR 2500M from last summer.

Then again, who knows? Maybe that first seller wasn’t even the car’s real owner. Maybe he bought a house with the car sitting on the property and just wanted to get rid of it. After all, he didn’t know enough to even have his daughter list it as an Elan +2. I do have the owner’s cell number from when he messaged me “it’s sold,” but he wasn’t communicative with me when I was interested. I don’t want to waste his time or mine trying to be a journalist getting to the bottom of something.

I have to admit that the flipper’s photos did show a few new things, so he did add some value there. Not seven grand worth of value, but some value. Crucially, his ad had underhood pics. The engine photos showed a ribbed valve cover with the “Big Valve” lettering visible, so it was an S130 car. However, it also clearly showed Stromberg carburetors, not Webers, and it had the pair of metal “crossover tubes” connecting the exhaust and intake manifolds, all of which indicated that this was a Federal-spec +2S 130, not a true 126-hp Euro car. Since my understanding is that all of the rare five-speed 130/5 cars were non-Federal-spec right-hand-drive vehicles, I think it’s likely the flipper is mistaken about the five-speed part. And the radiator is missing, lending credence to the tie-in between the Lotus acronym and water pump failure.

Oh, the car also had a smashed front windshield, and the interior was even worse than I thought.

As annoyed as I was that the buy/no-buy decision had been taken away from me and that this guy was trying to make windfall money from a bag-and-drag, I had to admit that the evidence was tipping in the direction that, had I seen the car, I would’ve been sane and walked away from it. And that let me think about the whole thing in a different way.

I became curious enough about the flipper that I looked at the other ads he was running on his Marketplace profile. I saw several with titles like “Muscle cars wanted dead or alive” and “I buy muscle cars and unwanted classics.” One of them read “Muscle cars and classic WANTED ANY CONDITION Barn Shed Garage Woods finds. Buy a piece of property? Inheritance? Storage unit? CASH Paid hassle free sale.” So there’s no question he’s doing this as a business. He had a bit of a mixed reputation in the Marketplace ratings, with some folks complaining about curt language and cars being sold before they came (his reply to one was simply “first come first serve”), but others said they thought he was a straight-up guy.

The more I thought about it, the less annoyed I was. I’m a car person, he’s a car person. We do different things. I don’t flip cars. If a car lives with me for a while and I can make it a better version of what it is, write about it in the process, and then sell it at some point down the road, great, but purchase-and-sale itself isn’t a source of income for me—writing is. Vive le différence. Hate the flip, hate the flipper, but he’s a car person. It’s still difficult for me to see what value someone like him brings to the vintage car community, but I can definitely see how some sellers simply want a car gone, without the thousand questions and no-shows that accompany the process.

So, other than wondering how I’m ever going to beat everyone to a deal again if a 26-minute-from-posting response time isn’t fast enough, I’m good.

But “storage fresh?” Give me a break.

***

Rob’s latest book, The Best Of The Hack Mechanic™: 35 years of hacks, kluges, and assorted automotive mayhem, is available on Amazon here. His other seven books are available here on Amazon, or you can order personally inscribed copies from Rob’s website, www.robsiegel.com.

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