At the moment, I do not have an extensive collection of cabinets and storage units for the purpose of collecting vast amounts of tools. Therefore, I like to make sure the few automotive utensils I do possess work well.

Imagine, then, my displeasure when I went to swap a set of  snow tires onto the E30 a few months ago and found that my existing lug wrench would not do the job. This was an all-hands-on-deck, standing on the breaker bar fiasco and the lugs still had more resistance than molasses in January. If you want to feel useless in the garage, try calling your friends and asking if they’re sure it’s lefty-loosey righty-tighty. That’s when you’ve reached rock bottom, when what little confidence you have is completely destroyed by a seemingly simple seasonal tire swap.

Of course, the lug nuts aren’t the problem – it’s the pitiful amount of torque my existing lug wrench was capable of emitting. Therefore, I turned to my friends in the reviewer community at Amazon and sought out their pick of the litter, a lug wrench that was a lady in the streets and an all-out vampire in bed. Enter the Gorilla 1721 Power Lug Wrench.

I’m here to tell you this story isn’t finished yet. I had just enough time this weekend to run the E30 up the street and kick off a hubcap to twist a lug nut. Oh. My. GOD. The lug turned with such ease I thought I had just stirred a batter of vanilla pudding rather than attempted to move a salt-encrusted nut air-drilled to hell by the mechanic who swapped the wheels after my failings months earlier.

I’m actually counting down the days until I can set aside some garage time and get those ugly, skinny, crap-handling tires off and swap the summer set back on. But this time, it’s not for the improvements in handling or looks – it’s for the excuse and ensuing joy of using tools that work.

So, I read an editor’s column last night in a magazine I once interviewed for a position with. This gentleman is the publisher of a popular motorsports outlet that caters to the weekend racer and DIY’ers. Although he speaks my language in many ways, he’s also a bit more hands-on than I’ve ever been in the garage. Credit that, along with a few other lifestyle decisions, that led me to not taking the position I was offered over a year ago.

The column focused on a number of topics related to the success of the publication, as well as his lack of success in recruiting the right talent to fill positions in editorial. I wondered as I read it if he was talking about me, when he referenced how some candidates were “prima donnas” and that certain interviewees had the courage (or audacity) to ask if they could telecommute. You know, I get it – he’s in a much warmer location than I am, surrounded by desirable machinery and in an affordable part of the country where wages aren’t much of a concern. Maybe he wasn’t even talking about me, but it gave me pause as I digested those words.

The bottom line is, I made an important decision when I turned the position down, which was that I was confident I could someday find the opportunity to write professionally about the hobby of cars in a way that fit my lifestyle, which takes many forms – from where and when I’m ready to move to a new city and if I’m confident the position will be more than just a test of my ability to translate the weekend’s project car assignment into riveting copy. Although I felt some pangs of regret for passing on what could have been the only opportunity to write for a successful motorsports magazine, I also experienced a bit of relief I didn’t cash all my chips in on the first opportunity that came my way.

Sometimes that works out. My E30 was one of those situations, but it made sense for the crossroads I had reached. Disappointing relationship, horrible (but good paying) job, and an overall sense of disillusionment with where life was. The E30 reflected this rock-bottom perspective but it represented a tangible mechanism for improvement, for looking at something pitiful and saying, “This will improve. This will be exactly what I want it to be someday.” Could I have waited for a better car to come along? I could have, but that’s not what I needed at that point in time. I needed the quick fix. I needed to see potential in something.

Like I’ve said before, I draw parallels from my vehicles that have served me well in many ways. If I was a prima donna, I would have scoffed at the E30 the second I saw the first photos of its ratty interior, oil-stained engine block and mismatched side mirrors. But instead, I saw the potential, which is far harder to find in most situations, whether it’s a job, a relationship, or a new project car. Potential is what keeps us coming back to the well, and wanting to take the steps necessary to ensure there is always more to uncover.

As I closed the magazine last night, I did so with little internal conflict. Do I still want to write for a car magazine some day? Absolutely. Do I feel there is no better occupation for me? With little doubt and much conviction. Will there be other opportunities? I sure hope so.

If I use the E30 as my yard stick, I’ll only grow doubtful at the potential of this career path the day that car is fully restored, from stem to stern. And even then, if the editorship of a lifetime still hasn’t revealed itself, I’ll at least have one heck of an E30.

Seeing a car that has been lost, abandoned – heck, not even titled by its current owner – leaves most car-shoppers checking the box next to ‘not interested.’ For me, I see a wounded critter, a vehicle that could some day be great if someone hadn’t grazed it with some buckshot, or possibly, a mallet. That is why today’s project car find is none other than a MK2 Volkswagen GTI.

Why do I like this car? Well, it’s cheap – as in, $1,000 OBO cheap. The motor has already been swapped out for a lower mileage 2.0 8V, which, although severely overmatched by the MK3 platform it was made for, supposedly works well in the lighter MK2 shell. Plus, it’s largely bulletproof and responds well to a turbo kit, so you could do far worse.

I don’t care for the hood graphics (we get it, you bought a German car, long live the king, or Hitler, or someone), but that’s a quick fix with some rattlecan paint. In fact, why not just paint the whole thing flat black in your backyard, preferably on a breezy day with a high pollen count? Ya know, to give that paint some texture.

Minor minuses come with this car, such as the lack of a title, or history of any kind. Plus, it looks like it’s limping, thanks to some finely-cut springs. But hey, we’ve all seen an attractive girl wearing a cast – amirite ? That metaphor may not work in this case, since eventually a cast comes off and there’s a brand new arm underneath; this car’s prognosis may not be quite so rosy.

Enough with the back and forth: it’s $1,000, likely cheaper when you low-ball the guy with various offers of cash and used kitchen appliances. It’s got a motor, seats, a roof and some killer single-round H4 headlights, so you can see the deer in the road right before you total your uninsured purchase and Bambi gleefully limps away.

Check it before you wreck it – 1991 VW GTI, German flag on the hood, for less than the price of some Apple products.

Well, as it turns out, I’m not getting as impressive of a tax return as I had hoped. On the flip side, I don’t owe the federal government any significant sum of money. So, while I won’t be stepping up to a Koni adjustable suspension for the E46 any time soon, I have put together a few more budget friendly plans representing both cosmetic and performance upgrades.

• Hella 550 stone shields: I’ll never know why, but I’ve been obsessed with how cars look when they’re adorned with thick black-and-white covers for various lighting accessories. I have to cut them down to size to fit over the E30’s stock fog lamps, but I’m fairly confident it will look pretty killer. Thanks, Amazon gift card from Aunt Laurie! 
• UUC 19 mm rear sway bar: Thanks to the kindness of a friend, I was able to sell some fairly valuable BBS centercaps for an early Mazda Miata on eBay and turn those profits into a significantly larger rear bar for the E30. This will replace the E30 M3 14.5 mm rear bar, which I can then sell for a decent profit (especially after getting it during a special 50% off sale at a parts yard that was going out of business.)
• OEM mudflaps: There’s no reason I should be so excited about these. Other than knowing the rear mud flaps for the early E30s are MIA and no longer available, I also just plainly love mud flaps.  And when the Euroweaves go back on, they’re going to make the E30 that much chunkier, complementing the added offset nicely. I’ve got another pair that I’m going to sell that are in worse condition but I grabbed out of fear I’d never find another pair, anywhere. Not sure how mud flaps got so irreplaceable, other than getting shredded to bits when the mounting points rot out. Fortunately, mine are intact.
• DISA valve replacement: Apparently, that rattling sound I hear upon cold start-up of the E46 is due to some butterfly/flapper valve located on top of the intake that controls the length of the intake runners. It also apparently can cause significant damage when it goes south, which is right around my current mileage. This isn’t a tomorrow purchase, but it could be next month. eBay knock-offs are fairly cheap.
• Refinishing ZHP wheels: Ugh. This has been on my list for quite some time and I’ve been avoiding it like the plague. It’s expensive and it involves carrying four 18 inch wheels down three flights of stairs. Next month for sure, if not the month after.

Fingers crossed nothing creeps up in the meantime that thwarts these largely financially-responsible plans. See the entry under “Legacy GT” for what I’m talking about.

As a follow-up to this week’s $150K bundle of joy, I’ve now struck out for a lineup that’s near and dear to my heart: beaters. Except, like a comfy sweater with a few holes or an old beach towel that’s bleached by the sun, beaters don’t necessarily have to be beaters. In fact, most of my selections are just the affordable versions of some once kick-ass cars.

Daily driver: 1990 Ford Taurus SHO – $4,000

I spend too much time making up bad puns involving the word “show” to not thoroughly enjoy driving this piece of 80’s goodness. Take a mundane family sedan, call up a few Asian pals who normally make sportbikes and outboard motors, and then ask them to build you a hotrod. I’ve always heard cocaine flowed like a river in the big hair era, but it must have been squirted out of air fresheners at Ford’s headquarters. And then to give it a manual transmission? Mercy. I’ll take mine with the slicer alloys.

Track rat: 1987 Isuzu Impulse Turbo – $3,000

Oh, yeah. I went there. A damn ISUZU. Actually, think of it as the fairer twin of the VW Scirocco, except it’s rear wheel drive, came factory turbocharged, Lotus breathed on it (or in its general direction) and it’s an ISUZU. I have loved these things for as long as I can remember, and it’s frightening to think that someday I will likely chase someone down, screaming “HERE, TAKE MY MONEY!” should I find one with all the trimmings and most of its sheet metal still intact. It also is the epitome of 80’s logic, of which there was very little. Might explain why Isuzu doesn’t sell cars here anymore.

Rock hopper: 1991 Jeep Wrangler Renegade – $3,000

Oftentimes, I wish I born a few years sooner. The early 90’s seemingly captured everything I love in a car today, from mesh wheels to fender flares and average vehicles becoming a little less average. Best of all, that even included monstrosities like the Jeep Wrangler Renegade. LOOK AT IT. It’s got a factory wide body, kick-ass moniker WITH its own pinstripe, monster fog lamps, multi-hole alloys, inline six, five-speed – oh yeah, and it’s four wheel drive because it’s a FREAKIN’ JEEP. When’s the last time you heard “Jeep” and “body kit” in the same sentence that you didn’t convulse with fear, anger, or likely, both? Well, the 90’s called and left a message saying thanks, you’re welcome, and have a nice day.

That does it, kids. The SHO and Renegade are on eBay right now – just need to get an “Impulse” to say bye-bye to the E46.

What I did there, do you see it?

This is not easy. $150K to spend on three vehicles when most of what I want to own can be found for $20K or less. But, like any addict, those afflicted with the disease of gearhead can always find new ways to enhance their addiction.

Everyday car – 1998 Porsche 911 C4S ($50,000 + $10,000 annual maintenance):

This, to me, is the epitome of the enthusiast car. Collectible for being the last of the air-cooled 911s; classic for its strict adherence to the original design; useful for its four-wheel drive configuration, aided by the rear-mounted engine for additional traction; and just plain awesome for numerous other reasons, from its classic interior to its performance to its (relative) reliability. To drive one of these every day is to have truly made it in life, and is deserving of respect from gearheads everywhere.

Utilitarian transport – Land Rover Defender 90 ($45,000 + $5,000 annual maintenance)

If the snowfall renders the 993 useless, this is the next best thing – a classic Defender 90. Anything that looks good wearing big, honkin’ Hella fog lamps is usually going to find a warm place in my heart, and the limited-production Defender 90 is the ultimate paradox of barely warmed over military-grade transport that you can still drive while wearing your best suit. Obviously, its off-road prowess precedes it, but the abstract qualities it possesses – looking as good parked on Newbury Street as it does up at Killington – make it a must-have for me.

Classic – E28 BMW M5 ($35,000 + $5,000 annual maintenance) 

Some might say this should be reversed, with the M5 taking the honors as the every day vehicle. But really, if this is a fantasy, I’d want to drive the 911 daily after so many years of using sedans for commuting purposes. The E28 is one of my favorite generations of the BMW family, and the legendary qualities of the M5, from its limited production to the Ronin-esque images it conjures every time you slip behind the wheel, deserves to be treated with classic status sooner than later. The 993 is not far behind in that department, but at this moment, the original Q-ship is already there.

I saw the first of what will surely be several previews for the upcoming Fast and the Furious movie, number six or seven in the popular franchise. It immediately conjured up memories of the very first film, which came out around my junior or senior year of high school. Although somewhat laughingstock today with its stereotypical bad boys and street racers who make up for their lack of intelligence and driving ability with loud cars and louder body graphics (tattoos on both the car and the driver for the uninformed), the original film left a lasting impression on me.

As a student split between accelerated and standard classes, I oftentimes walked the line between the kids going to Harvard and the ones who barely cared enough to graduate. It’s an expansive gulf between the two, and one I was able to bridge by way of my interest in modifying a third-generation Jetta. With this car, I gained some sort of quasi-acceptance from a crowd that I held about as much in common as an inmate does with a librarian. They were the ones who owned the Hondas with motor swaps, the Mustang 5.0’s with deleted catalytic converters, or even an old land barge like a Q45 that looked – and sounded – the business with tinted windows and a system. They were the ones whose fathers owned collision repair shops and had more interest in hitting the marijuana pipe than the books.

So, where did that leave me? With a Jetta that slowly transformed with the right modifications, and had just enough kit on it to at least earn a subtle nod and permission to park in the back of the lot with the other tricked-out rides. To this day, it’s an accomplishment that I hold as high as anything else memorable I did in high school.

What I remember most about opening night for Fast and the Furious was how overwhelmingly united I felt with every other guy who loved his car more than life itself. Who wanted it to be fast enough to race stoplight to stoplight but also knew the paint had to be perfect for catching eyes when idling in the school parking lot. The first movie to define a generation of car enthusiasts wasn’t memorable for its poor story lines, horrible casting and God-awful CGI; no, it was, for better or worse, the American Graffiti for Generation Y, and the only franchise to bring to life a new story every other year featuring cars representing a wider and more varied audience of enthusiasts.

While I will never tell my offspring that Vin Diesel was an actor of any merit, I will relay to them how that night in the theater, surrounded by friends of all backgrounds and the evening of cruising that followed, was one of the fondest memories of my youth. And I hope  that some day, there is still a director out there who realizes how much it means to be young and to love cars.

So, my daily finds for project cars have little rhyme or reason to them; really, it’s about what I find within a few minutes of searching that strikes me as the perfect project at that moment in time. Today we have Japan’s answer to Subarus with a snail; none other, of course, than the Toyota Celica All-Trac Turbo.

I know, I know – a Japanese car? A dreaded appliance??! But really, I don’t consider this what one might label today’s bread-and-butter people haulers that have about as much character as a cup of Earl Grey tea paired with a piece of rye bread and lukewarm butter. Or something. So please, leave your Avalon references at home – this car comes from an era when the tiny country that is today known for global dominance of all things green and economical actually gave a damn about performance.

There’s a lot I love about this Craigslist listing for what appears to be an ’86-’87 Celica All-Trac Turbo. The seller says don’t bother asking what’s wrong with it, because there’s nothing to tell! A few bumps to the bumpers and nothing a bit of spit and polish can’t fix. JUST DON’T BOTHER HIM WITH YOUR SILLY QUESTIONS ABOUT MECHANICAL INTEGRITY. Harumph.

The seller might consider trades. In fact, he even lives in a town from Connecticut that is famous for accepting swaps (at least according to his information under ‘Location’). And don’t worry – although this is described as a project car, it can be daily driven with ease! Don’t ask its current owner if there’s anything stopping you from driving it anywhere, ’cause there ain’t. So quit the interrogation – can’t you see men are working here, trying to buy his All-Trac?

I don’t mean to chastise the guy, but since when does 1980s + turbocharged + all wheel drive + manual transmission + pop-up headlights + an actual professional rally driver who drove a near-identical car on the world’s greatest stages (in other words, hoon impressions likely) = Camry reliability? I think not. But I still want it.

Hell, according to Mr. All-Trac, all I need to worry about is a cracked mirror.

Some days, I wonder why I do it.

After doing a fair amount of driving in my E46 this weekend, and taking the E30 out for its first spin in weeks, I had to ask myself – what’s the point of driving an older car? Why I stare through a pock-marked windshield with 85,000 miles on it (because it’s the OEM BMW glass); why I slow down to 5 m.p.h. over potholes (I need to replace the shocks); why I drive with the foglights on at all time (due to the factory bi-xenons losing their intensity over time); and so forth.

The E30 – where do I start? A driver’s side window that only works when the door is open, coolant that seems to never stop leaking, A/C that long since left this world – the list goes on. It’s the project car, so there’s some slack to be cut. But one cannot spend too many hours at the wheel before you start wondering just how much abuse your teeth can take from the rock-hard firmness of the suspension.

But all it takes is looking at the E46 head-on. Seeing those fenders bump out from the horizon of the hood, or its reflection in a truck tailgate with the center-pod daytime running lights and fog lamps illuminated. Or just being able to hear the sound an inline six makes when its cold. It leaves me numb to things like Hondas and factory-fresh (or factory-muted) Mercedes-Benzes.

The more I think about it, the more I realize what a blessing it is to own a car with quirks, or what some would call “issues.” It teaches you that not everything – or everyone – is perfect. And although both cars require professional attention on a near-monthly basis, I am far more satisfied with my ongoing project-status transport than anything that can sit near-silent and never have a need for tinkering or improvement. Let’s face it, we find people more interesting when there is discourse in a discussion or a tweak or two needed to get them to a better place – like an injury that stems from overusing a muscle in a race. The same can be said of cars (just replace discourse with swearing).

So, get used to the kick panels with years of shoe marks and the suspension bushings losing a never-ending battle with winter’s weary roads. There’s nothing out there that interests me more than a good project.

So, around this time of year, the notices start coming out about autocross schedules. I, in turn, start daydreaming of how this is the year I’ll actually be competitive and rise to the top of my class standings, all while doing so in a relatively stock E30.

Yeah. Hasn’t happened yet. But that hasn’t stopped me from pre-shopping, much like a woman who chooses her furniture before she’s ever sat in it. eBay is my drug of choice, as it’s filled with new and used parts that are sure to make me look like a better driver. So, what’s on my list right now?

1. Bigger rear sway bar: I tried going OEM with this the first time, snagging a 14.5 mm rear sway off of a 325ix for cheap. Didn’t do squat for rotation, so I’ve got my eye on a 19 mm UUC rear sway bar.
2. Replacement Motometer odometer gears: OK, this has nothing to do with performance. But it would be nice to see how many miles I actually rack up commuting to the course in Ayer.
3. Re-manufactured alternator: I’m 90% certain my 1987 325is still has its original alternator, or at least one that is going on ten years old. It certainly needs a fresh unit for some added juice.
4. Performance chip: I’m a bit on the fence with this one, as my already fragile car does not need its fuel map and rev limiter messed with. But the E30’s M20 straight-six is sorely needing a few more horsies as it makes its way around Devens throttle-heavy sections, so it may be worth exploring.
5. Used A/C compressor: Already scored this for the price of free, and it would make the drive to and from the course more bearable. That is, if it even works….

All of this takes money, which is sometimes allocated towards other expenses. Right now, I’d be happy to find out the compressor works and to add the beefy rear sway bar.