In our garage.

The 4-door GS was introduced in 1970 to fill a market segment that Citroen was absent in- midsize cars. They had the high-end DS and the economy 2CV and 2CV based cars (Ami8, Ami Super, etc) but nothing in between. The GS was a well engineered and successful remedy to that. It was awarded the European Car of The Year award in 1971, a testament to the technology (for its time) that went behind this car. Citroen introduced a wagon version in 1972, making an already versatile car more versatile. The air cooled flat four under the hood was originally a Panhard design and was available in either 1015cc, 1129cc, 1222cc or 1299cc. Worth mentioning that Citroen also experimented with a rotary powered GS that sported a Wankel engine. Production of that was very short and few remain today.

It was finally replaced in 1979 by the 5-door GSA. The styling was essentially the same with minor differences, the biggest one of them being the addition of a hatchback. The GSA was also better put together inside and better rust-proofed, though you can still hear it rust if you listen.

By 1986, this once futuristic design was seriously dated and it was replaced by the BX, a boxier looking GS that wasn't as successful as Citroen had hoped.



I got this 1983 model from the grandson of the original owner. The grandpa took great care of it and the grandson never drove it so it only has 76,000 kilometers. Except for some dings and dents that are standard on a car that's spent its whole life in Marseille, it's pretty flawless inside and out.

It has the 1129cc engine and being a base model, it has a 4-speed manual transmission. More expensive models had a 5-speed and they even offered a pointless 3-speed automatic transmission that often had a mind of its own. The best way to describe it is that it drives like a faster 2CV and rides like a smaller DS, the reason being its Hydropneumatic suspension, a system introduced by Citroen in 1955 on the original DS to create a smoother ride.

Like many cars of this segment and era, most of them have rotted into oblivion or have been junked and good examples like this one are fairly cheap but also fairly hard to find.

The interior is unmistakably Citroen and unmistakably French- the speedometer is a rotary drum, the single spoke steering wheel is inspired by the DS, the handbrake is where the radio should be and the radio is in between the front seats, right by the control for the suspension. There is no turn signal stalk and no horn on the wheel, those functions (and more) are found on the two pods visible behind the steering wheel. The tach above the instrument panel is aftermarket (not my addition), base cars didn't come with one originally. The seats feel like something you'd find at RC Willey with a triple digit price tag; add the all-absorbing Hydropneumatic suspension and it's more comfortable than a lot of new cars:




Outside, it takes some design cues from the DS including an unpronounced rear wheel arch. Compared with the GS, the GSA has less chrome on the outside. While its small engine meant acceleration wasn't brisk, its aerodynamic shape meant it could reach high speeds if you spend enough time with your foot on the gas:





Under the hood, you'll find the familiar green suspension pheres found in the DS and the SM and being a flat engine, there is room for the spare, too. Fuel finds its way into the combustion chamber via a single downdraft carburetor:

The Golden Age of Automotive Advertising

Ok, it's winter and to be honest, there's a bit of a lack of things to post on here lately. As a result, we've come up with the "Great Automotive Failures" editorials and other such things for your enjoyment. But now for something completely different (sort of)...

The 1960s and 1970s had some truly 'great' automotive advertising. Many of them unashamedly grabbed males' attention from a gut level (or maybe lower) without the use of too many things like words or information. Let's have a look, shall we?

British Leyland had a pretty good grasp on this concept:

The TR-7 was a little scary. I don't blame her for hiding.

Ah, the 1970s was a colorful time indeed. Driving a boxy European economy car, combined with loud apparel is sure to get you some girls...

I'm assuming this girl's RO-80 had a major rotor seal failure right where it's parked. Might as well get a tan while waiting for the tow truck.

Before Volvo's became boxy:

And perhaps best of all, are these fine examples here...

Beautiful landscape in this Zastava ad. 

 
... and then they just stopped trying. I believe they taped a photo of the car to a page out of an Eastern Bloc adult magazine and went to press...

Not a car ad, but still, same concept. 

Great Automotive Failures: The Aston Martin Lagonda

Like many small-scale auto manufacturers during the 1970s, Aston Martin’s finances were looking drearier than a late winter afternoon in London. On the verge of bankruptcy, A-M embarked on a radical plan to make some fast cash and thus, the Lagonda was born. The Lagonda was the company’s attempt at an ultra-exclusive, ultra-expensive, and ultimately ultra hideous, luxury sedan.

The car was designed by William Towns. His primary design experience prior to penning the Lagonda’s laser-straight lines, had been such prestigious components as door handles and seats for various British firms. He later went on to dream up some of the UK’s more horrid looking econo-box concepts after he fell in love with the 180° angle while working with Aston Martin.

The aside from its controversial looks, the Lagonda had some very appealing characteristics on paper. A hand-built 5.4 liter V8 producing 280hp was respectable for the day, and highly innovative electronic LED instrumentation gave it a proper dose of 1970s futuristic flair. The first of these cars were sold before they were even built as orders for the door-stop sedan came in after its conceptual unveiling in 1976. Aston Martin was happy to have the funding of course.

One thing to keep in mind however is that the Lagonda was a hand-built car made in England in the 1970s with electronics that were more complex than even the finest Soviet space craft. Need I say more? Furthermore, while Aston Martin spent unfathomable sums of money developing the electronics for the interior, they neglected to figure out how to fuel inject that carefully constructed V8 engine (which was fitted to a Chrysler 3-speed automatic). Weber supplied the four carburetors needed per engine. Also interestingly, it wasn’t until after its release that the car received opening rear windows.

The finally rolling off the assembly line in 1978, first batch of these sedans were known as the Series 2 and the Series 1 was actually a later designed coupe. Aston Martin realized themselves that the complex LED instrumentation was more or less a flop. But not giving up on complexity, in 1984 (with the Series 3) they introduced instrumentation via Cathode Ray Tubes that would make anyone familiar with early black and green Apple computer screens feel right at home. Later, on the Series 4, some styling changes were made also, such as doing away with pop-up headlights, rounding off of some hard edges, and yet another set of instruments - this time in the form of vacuum fluorescent gauges. Power was increased later on as well to 289hp for this car, which now weighed about two and a half tons.

By 1989, Aston Martin ended production of the Lagonda. While quite out-of-this-world, less than 650 were produced in its lifetime. Many of them have suffered from extensive electrical issues as one might expect, significant rust problems, and even heavily worn engines. The opulently appointed interiors have also been known to wear considerably as well, and all of these things are, of course, very expensive. Perhaps the only logical reason to purchase one of these cars today, would be if the vehicle’s once fabulously rich owner from the early ‘80s had neglected to remove all the cocaine hidden in the rocker panels before getting rid of the damned thing. At least that stash might be enough to pay for some new wiring. 

The One(s) That Got Away [or, Another Saab Story]

As some readers may recall, I purchased both of my beloved Saabs from a Dodge dealer in North-West Pennsylvania. This part of the state isn't exactly brimming with European cars, and surprisingly, despite the seemingly endless amount of Chrysler products running around the county, the dealer went bankrupt last year. Anyway, what was so unique about this dealer of Chrysler machinery was that the owner had a strange love for Saabs. Hence, how and why I found my specimens there. When the place was still up and running, I drove by one day to find two Saab 96s parked across the street in an abandoned lot. Naturally I had to stop and look and also inquire about purchasing them. One was a Monte Carlo 850 in rather rough, but restorable shape, and the other a standard 96 that was in largely original condition and very restorable and likely drivable as-is. Unfortunately, when questioned, the owner assured me that the vehicles were not for sale and were to be her personal projects. Before they finally disappeared for good, I snapped some photos. (These are about 4 years old now... I found them in my archives)

Mexico's love affair with air-cooled Volkswagens.

Unless you have one as a driveway ornament, air-cooled Volkswagens are a distant memory of the past for most people. Maybe you drove one in college or maybe your parents had one when you were born. In Mexico, however, this archaic but time-proven design is still used daily. In fact, Mexico stopped production of the Beetle in 2003. The basic design is the same, it still uses a type 1 engine (though it's fuel injected). Some other changes include an updated dash, an alarm, bumper-mounted turn signals in the front and in some cases the headlight trim is body-colored. A lot of taxi drivers in Mexico City have a Beetle although the city is pushing them to get rid of them because of the pollution they emit. As a side note, another good alternative for taxi drivers is the Nissan Tsuru, the early 1990s Sentra that is still in production there.

I spotted several of these delivery vans:

And, while most Beetles you see in Mexico are fairly new, the old ones are still represented. The huge car culture there means that most cars seem to stay on the road which is great to see:

Buses are still around but they don't all fit into the "air-cooled Volkswagen" category. For the Mexican market, Volkwagen started using the water-cooled 1.4 in the early 1990s. Mexican production stopped but they're still built in Brasil. The ones designated for export (mostly to the Mexican market) are water cooled but the ones built for the Brasilian domestic market still use the type 1, air cooled engine. Interesting thing is, in Mexico, they still use Buses as, well.. buses. The collectivos are sometimes Buses and various private enterprises use them to shuttle people (like the red one pictured, which we took to go from downtown to a river). The radiator in the front is a dead giveaway that you're looking at a water-cooled Bus.

The Volkswagen Brasilia was built in the 1970s in Brasil primarily for the South and Central American markets but they were also sold in Mexico. It was an attempt at creating a more versatile Beetle- the body ressembles a type 4 body but it uses a type 1 engine. Other parts were borrowed from VW's parts bin, including taillights pulled from a type 4. They're around but by no means common and I was often in taxis, buses or friends' cars so photographing one proved to be hard but here's a rather clapped out one:

Lastly, this was an interesting find- a very early Bus that still has semaphores.

Photos were taken in Mexico City, Oaxaca and San Cristobal.

Great Automotive Failures: Ford's Merkur Brand

The Merkur brand, which Ford introduced to the North American market in 1985 could have been great. However it has fallen into relative obscurity like so many other attempts to sell unique European cars Stateside.

Ford’s then V.P. Bob Lutz saw some potential selling European market Fords as a separate brand in the US and Canada. The “Merkur” brand was cleverly named after the German spelling of Mercury, and was offered at select Lincoln-Mercury dealers. The first of these vehicles to cross the Atlantic was the XR4Ti – a re-worked version of Ford of Europe’s relatively popular sporting version of the Sierra, the XR4i. Karmann in Germany assembled the model. Unlike its European counterpart, which used the 2.9 liter “Cologne” V6, the XR4Ti used a turbocharged 2.3 liter, 4-cylinder engine like that used in turbocharged Thunderbirds of the era. Transmissions were either a 3-speed slush-box automatic or a 5-speed manual. Performance of the Merkur wasn’t bad and was duly noted by the automotive press, though it wasn’t necessarily an earth-shattering model compared to its competition.

Still seeking to build up the Merkur brand, the larger, more luxurious, Scorpio model was introduced to North American market in 1988. This model was also a German-built version of the Ford Scorpio, which had actually been named European Car of the Year in 1986. This model did utilize the Cologne V6, which performed decently; unfortunately, the Merkur version received a ‘softer’ feel to appeal more to the American market. The result was a neutered version of one of Europe’s more successful executive sedans at the time.

By the time the 1989 model year rolled around, the Merkur division wasn’t quite living up to Ford’s hopes. The high-performance Cosworth versions (as offered in Europe) were never offered on either Merkur model. Sales were less than stellar and the cars were expensive. Furthermore, despite being sold by Ford, the Merkurs were not a well-known brand compared to the other European competition from BMW, Volvo, Saab, Audi and so-on. The Scorpio also resembled much less-expensive models Mercury causing somewhat of an image problem. The cost of importing the vehicles was high, and finally, when more strict safety legislation came into effect for the 1990 model year, Ford opted not to bother re-tooling and continue sales in North America. So ended Ford’s attempt to sell some of it’s more interesting vehicles to its home market. 

Type 2.

I've been after another air-cooled Volkswagen since I sold my 1962 Bug in 2007. I found a replacement (more or less) last week when I picked up this 1973 Bus from a shop around Provo, Utah. I don't know much about its history but it was last tagged in 1997 in Washington, plate number 315 HCP. It was brought to the shop for repair but the customer never paid and so it sat until they were able to get a title for it.

It runs and drives and it's not too rusty but it needs a lot of electrical work, very little works on it presently. I'll update this as the project progresses.