I’ll let you in on a secret within the world of automotive enthusiasts: the less mainstream appreciation there is for older cars, the more affordable they remain for those of us who truly understand their appeal. As we stand on the cusp of an era dominated by autonomous driving, this might just be the final golden age for acquiring vintage vehicles at reasonable prices. The shift is already happening, but it’s certainly not too late to discover the unique charm of classic automobiles.
My advice is simple: find a vintage car you love while you still have the chance. For me, that love is embodied in my 1973 Citroën SM – my automotive soulmate. It’s more than just a car; it’s a genuine relationship, a mechanical companion that offers a depth of connection modern cars simply can’t replicate.
You might think my passion for older cars stems from a recent mid-life awakening, but it’s a long-held appreciation. It’s not about age; it’s about maturity, character, and a certain je ne sais quoi that vintage cars possess in spades. Older cars, much like classic literature or timeless art, offer a depth and complexity that contemporary counterparts often lack. They have history, stories, and a unique personality forged over time. Treat them with respect and understanding, and you’ll find yourself in a rewarding and enduring relationship.
Mon dieu, je t’aime. My SM.
My Citroën SM is not like these modern, mass-produced cars that are designed for instant gratification, readily available for a quick test drive, and easily obtainable through convenient financing. These new vehicles might offer immediate thrills, but they often lack the depth and enduring appeal of a classic.
Does this mean modern automotive engineering is without merit? Of course not. Just as not every new acquaintance is shallow, today’s sports cars still retain a spark of soul. However, a golden rule remains: never buy the first model year of any vehicle. Even with advanced manufacturing, modern cars can have initial design and production flaws. Allowing time for these kinks to be ironed out can pave the way for a more lasting and satisfying ownership experience.
I said can. Not will. I prefer to let others take those initial risks and reap the rewards of a more refined later model.
Sa Majeste. Don’t be swayed by the myths surrounding the reliability of the SM. Admittedly, some of the early models had their share of issues. They could be temperamental and unpredictable, regardless of how meticulously you cared for them. Sometimes, they simply refused to cooperate.
Looking back, it’s clear that those first SMs were too “young” in their development to offer the dependable partnership I sought. It’s akin to that first intense crush – exciting but ultimately unreliable. You might have poured your heart and soul into the relationship, but immaturity and unresolved issues often led to disappointment. Just like leaving a needy car alone in the garage, neglect only exacerbates problems, creating a cycle of frustration that pushes you towards something seemingly newer and more hassle-free.
And so, you might have parted ways with that temperamental, fluid-leaking early SM, opting for a seemingly more dependable and “better” model. It might have seemed like the right choice at the time, but I understand the pang of longing for that lost automotive love. I too, once traded in those early automotive passions for something that appeared more practical and less demanding. I didn’t fully grasp the depth of what I was giving up, choosing a younger, more conventionally reliable, “better” option.
There’s a common term for those fresh, off-the-production-line models, perfect for those – like my younger self – unwilling to invest the time, learning, or patience required for a vintage car relationship. They’re often called Toyotas. This isn’t a slight against Toyota, a brand that has gifted us the Lexus line, but it highlights a key difference. Even the most luxurious Lexus, in the longest, most trouble-free ownership, rarely inspires the same level of passionate envy as a well-maintained classic. Why? Because their accessibility and guaranteed reliability means they lack a certain mystique and demand less unwavering commitment.
“I love you so much,” early SM owners would plead with their cars on a cold morning, “I’ll do anything you ask.”
Silence.
“If only you would tell me what would make you happy. I’ll do anything. Please? S’il te plaît?”
Still nothing.
Because those early models were still finding their way. They didn’t yet know their own needs or desires. Just like navigating early romantic relationships – your first, second, and maybe even several thereafter. It’s likely your standards weren’t yet refined. You probably hadn’t fully defined what you were truly seeking in a partner, automotive or otherwise. You didn’t quite understand each other’s language. But with knowledge comes understanding. With time comes experience. And with both, comes trust.
However, a Citroen SM, meticulously serviced by a master technician like Jerry Hathaway, can be transformed. It can become even better than new. Many vintage SMs lack complete service histories, but a clean bill of health from a trusted expert can breathe new life into these automotive icons.
For every car brand, in every corner of the globe, there’s usually a dedicated expert, or even a community of them. This is one of the incredible benefits the internet offers to us – the first generation of vintage car enthusiasts who can readily pursue that automotive dream that once hung as a poster on our bedroom walls.
In today’s digital age, platforms like Instagram surpass any car posters of the past. The internet has revolutionized vintage car ownership, making research, acquisition, and maintenance more accessible than ever before.
While I’m unsure if the internet has streamlined dating, it has undoubtedly transformed every aspect of owning a vintage car. Imagine if dating sites offered the wealth of information available online about vintage vehicles! Within moments, I can access a comprehensive list of common SM issues. With a bit of online searching, you might uncover similar insights before a first date. Perhaps. It’s certainly less likely you’ll convince someone’s ex to divulge intimate relationship details, unless, of course, things took a dramatically negative turn – in which case, it might just surface in a Google search or a background check. I’ve been there (the background check, that is).
On a side note, an ex once tried to eliminate me, and it wasn’t because I asked her to push-start the SM in heels while I steered. Which she did. Twice. The latter request, I mean. But that’s a story for another time, perhaps in “Cars Part 2”.
Regardless of our deep knowledge of automotive specifications, the casual observer often misses the nuances. They may not grasp the effort involved in creating these machines, or even their actual market value. Perceived value becomes paramount, and over time, this is increasingly dictated by rarity, which inevitably drives up the cost of vehicles no longer in production.
Usually.
This might explain why even my well-maintained Citroen SM is valued at around $30,000, comparable to a fully-optioned Honda Accord. Citroën produced a significant number of SMs, and despite many succumbing to rust and neglect, the exceptional examples are still somewhat overshadowed by the reputation of the less well-maintained ones. I can accept this discrepancy between perception and reality, because ownership provides something truly priceless: respect.
Not respect derived from monetary value, but the mutual respect that blossoms from a genuine and reciprocal relationship. And to those who understand, it’s the respect born from discerning taste.
And taste, thankfully, is free.
My relationship with my SM has spanned nearly eight years, starting with an initial purchase price of $20,000 and 52,000 miles on the odometer. I’ve invested roughly $8,000 in routine maintenance and $14,000 in an engine rebuild. Now, she runs flawlessly. For a total investment of $42,000, with approximately $1,000 annual maintenance costs, I’ve found a perfect, long-term partnership with a captivating French classic. I possess the knowledge to keep her happy, and she’s always ready for a drive to dinner or a weekend getaway. Well, maybe not always ready, and perhaps not for very long distances, but true, enduring relationships are never entirely effortless, especially long-term ones.
But we are both content. True automotive love is out there, waiting in garages and collections, from Alfa Romeos to Porsches, Tatras, and countless other marques whose older models are yearning for the right enthusiast. But time is of the essence.
So, don’t hesitate. Drive with style, but love with your whole heart. The rewards of true automotive love are immeasurable.
Alex Roy is the author of the LiveDriveRepeat blog, President of Europe By Car, the founder of Team Polizei, Editor-at-Large for The/Drive and author of The Driver, which depicts his NY-LA Cannonball Driving Record, accomplished in 31 hours and 4 minutes.
Follow him on Facebook, Twitter and Instagram.
Image sources: roadsmile.com, petrolblog.com, pistonheads.com, autoandrive.wordpress.com, classiccartrust.com, gieldaklasykow.pl, blogspot.com, hooniverse.com, blogcdn.com, influx.co.uk
