Check out that snazzy steering wheel and two-tone interior!

I'm guilty of neglecting these cars in this series; I see them all over the island, but this is only the third R107 so far (after this '82 and this '87; we've also seen this W113 SL convertible). I found this very clean example parked on the block that gave us the '71 Evinrude and the '80 Datsun 280ZX.

In '82, the SL came standard with a 3.8 liter SOHC V8 that made 215 horsepower; that may not sound like much, but by Late Malaise Era standards it was quite impressive. The '82 380SL also came standard with a $38,993 price tag (86 grand in 2009 bucks), which was about $2,000 more than what you'd have paid for a brand-new '82 BMW 633CSi and approximately three times the cost of an '82 Mitsubishi Starion LS. Which would you have taken, the Benz, the 6 Series, or three Starions?

And that wasn't all! How about a '77 Chevrolet Malibu, a '77 LTD Brougham hardtop, or a terrific '77 Mercury Marquis… all for 2,188 bucks apiece? Or would you take a brand-new Ford EXP instead?

I'd always assumed that Nissan just liked cool gadgetry so much that they'd gone ahead and used $1,278 worth of first-gen Mesoproterozoic Era solid-state digital audio circuitry, no doubt with a shoebox-sized brain packed with 128 whoppin' kilobytes of data.

But no! They created a miniaturized, shock-resistant phonograph, using a 3" white plastic record cut with six parallel grooves (one for each voice message, including "Left door is open," "Right door is open," "Parking brake is on," "Fuel level is low," "Keys in the ignition," and "Lights are on."), and a super-precise stylus that drops in just the right groove when triggered by the device's control circuitry. We're talking about the very pinnacle of analog automotive devices here, and I never knew it existed until a recent junkyard trip. That's when I found an intriguing box labeled "Audible Warning - Don't Drop" under the dash of a 1982 Datsun 810 Maxima.

The Datsun 810 aka Nissan Maxima and the 280ZX could be purchased with this system. You had a dash switch to disable it, in case you found it more maddening than gratifyingly futuristic.

Naturally, I had visions of rigging up this fine retro device in my Civic (or maybe hardwired into the Junkyard Boogaloo Boombox), but the vast number of wires coming out of the thing meant that I couldn't get anywhere without a wiring diagram. $10 later, I'd purchased a factory shop manual on eBay and got down to business.

Sadly, the friendly Japanese Audible Warning Box seems to be garbooned; I've wired it up in a manner that should convince it that it's still in a Maxima, but the stylus arm never moves when I trigger the "door switch" or "fuel level sensor" conditions. All I get is a forlornly spinning phonograph record and some little clicks from the mechanism. The only thing I'm not certain about is the mysterious item labeled simply "Audio" on the schematic; I'm guessing it's a circuit in the stereo that cuts the music during announcements. I've got these things on my junkyard shopping list, so I'll make one work yet!

Even with countless real-world cautionary tales to warn us, we persist in being tempted by terrifyingly complex German luxury hot rods of the 1980s and 1990s. Why, even after having all your fingers roasted down to charred stumps by the merest touch of a cheap Porsche 928 or V12 BMW project, when you see one priced at just a grand… well, maybe you won't get burned this time! That's why we can't help but keep returning to these two fine machines, though we've seen them in the Hell Garage before.

This is a photograph of one of the Porsche 928's electrical panels. Looks complicated, doesn't it? The sort of thing that might be a bit intimidating when you have to puzzle out the cause behind some bizarre malfunction… but hey, maybe this 1982 Porsche 928 (go here if the ad disappears) will be 100% reliable for you! Just find a new transmission for it- 5-speed, of course- and you'll be well on your way to building your very own lightweight 928 track car. The seller would like to get $999 for it, which means that this Porsche has depreciated a head-clutching 98.8% (adjusting for inflation) since 1982. How can that be? At that price, we suggest you pick up a couple of parts cars, because what are the odds that all three of your 928s will have the same broken stuff?

You'd enjoy driving that 928, if when you got it in driving shape, but let's say you're in Tonopah Las Vegas (having just taken Nickel Nick's Hot Slots And Guaranteed Ptomaine Free $1.99 Buffet the Bellagio for $17.43 $88,000 at the keno board high-rollers-only baccarat tables) and you spy a couple of scurrilous meth-addicted teenage runaways attractive young ladies (or men, depending on your proclivities and/or gender) who appear willing to do anything for a sawbuck ready for a night on the town. Do you make one of them crawl into the Porsche's back seat, like a rat crawling into a hole gnawed in a hot-sheet flophouse's bathroom baseboard, or do you get yourself a genuine V12-powered four-door car? The latter, of course, and this 1988 BMW 750iL (go here if the ad disappears) is just calling your name! We're pretty sure that BMW's marketers didn't target the 750il at buyers who would refer to their pride and joy as a "nice ass rare car," as this seller does, so we're pretty sure this isn't the car's original owner. There is definitely might be something terrifyingly expensive challenging wrong with the engine, as the seller states in this subtle poem:

its starting to blow white smoke
from the exhaust and
i dunno
if sumthings going bad
thats y im
selling it for so cheap

While you're dealing with that pair of cracked heads minor tuneup, you can start shopping for some really cool-looking wheels, because this seller is giving you the opportunity to choose the most beautiful wheels in the world for your new 750il. That's right, "all u need to do is bring some wheels cause it doesnt have any and then u can take it home."

Alameda actually has plenty of Mk1 Rabbits on the street, but I just haven't been paying enough attention to them. So far in this series, we've seen this '81 diesel pickup and this '83 4-door LS. Perhaps I'm just having flashbacks to the miserably underpowered dual-brake-pedal-equipped '77 diesel Rabbit that my high school used for driver-training classes; driving instructor "Coach Bob" took sadistic pleasure in making total beginners enter the Nimitz Freeway via the fiendishly short 16th Avenue onramp in the 47-horse Rabbit. But I'm over that now (not really), so we'll be playing Golf Catchup for a while.


American car buyers didn't have many affordable convertible options during the Late Malaise Era. The MGB was done in 1980 and the last TR7 came in 1981; the Mustang convertible didn't return until 1983. The Rabbit convertible sold for $9,340 in 1982. That was $2,358 less than a new Chrysler LeBaron convertible and $2,950 less than a Fiat Spider. This one has the rare "laptop keyboard glued to dash" option.


Here's a view of the Rabbit from the Evil Skylark, which lives just down the street.

Yes, that's two separate questions, and we're only interested in the latter one here; we're assuming that all but the most obsessive ardent Maserati purists will allow for modifications to the not-so-sacred Quattroporte, anyway. As was the case with yesterday's NPOCP Skoda wagon, this car has been for sale since North America was part of Pangea, and we've been getting tips about it for almost as long (thanks to Franzouse for the most recent tip). So, the car: 626 horsepower plus supercharging plus manual transmission plus Maserati nameplates definitely registers a reading in the red part of the Badass-O-Meter™, and we must observe that Las Vegas is the perfect home for it. We won't speculate on performance figures, but they must be truly scary. So, think about what kind of machine you can buy for 43 grand, and then ask yourself: is that a good price for this car?
[eBay Motors]

We saw a '77 Accord in this series not long ago, and it was startling how many readers had never seen a first-gen Accord on the street. Now we're going to look at an example of the early 2nd-gen Accord, which was still quite small (2,076 pounds) and was the first Accord to be built in North America. Horsepower was up to 76- yes, those weight and power numbers would be considered laughably small nowadays, though these cars drive just fine- and Honda's rep for reliability was really getting entrenched in the American consciousness by this time.


The price back in 1982? $8,449 for the LX, or $1,050 more than the base Accord hatch. Clearly, the cachet of the LX badging wasn't enough to stop some vocab-challenged vandal from keying "ASS" into the hood paint.

Callaway Cars held their first annual open house on the second weekend of October at the company’s headquarters located in bucolic Old Lyme Connecticut. Saturday was a spectacular, New England autumn day, bright, sunny, and warmer than normal, just right to showcase some of the rarest automotive creations that were ever made. This was also a chance to take in the essence of an organization, which grew from a one man business that was conducted in a garage in his home, to a well respected engineering and production company with three locations worldwide. I knew I would feel a little out of place, milling about between the owners of these rare cars and the cars themselves, until I came across one of the earliest Callaway Scirocco.

This 1982 Volkswagen Scirocco was not a show car by any means. The Black finish doesn’t shine as brightly as it did when it was new, the front and rear bumpers have taken on a silver gray hue from years of sitting outside, and the interior took on an aged, and weathered look, with the many wrinkles and cracks that are easily covered up on an aging Hollywood starlets face, but are proudly worn as a badge of honor on this car. You see, this car still has the Callaway Turbo window decal still in place, along with the set of Centro Wheels that were standard equipment with the package, and while it may not be a concourse winner any time in the future, it is a historical tribute to the Callaway name. And there it sat, among all those beautiful Stock, and Callaway modified Corvettes, commanding attention, almost as if the car was saying “Hell yea, I belong here too”. And it did.

The car is owned by John Kulp from Malvern Pennsylvania. While the car probably doesn’t produce anywhere near the 117 HP it once produced when it left the Callaway location all those years ago, it will get out of its own way. The car traversed to Old Lyme from PA, and according to John, it was comfortable, quick, and economical, just the way he imagined it would be all those many years ago when the car of his dreams was introduced in the early 80’s. John always wanted a Callaway equipped Scirocco, but could never afford one. That all changed when this car popped up on an Ebay Auction from a Connecticut Saab dealer, and soon enough, he was the owner of a well worn, but still hugely relevant VW Scirocco by Callaway.

To coin a phrase from Hemmings, this is a “Drivable Dream”. There is over 80,000 miles showing on the odometer, and it needs a great deal of work to become show worthy. The biggest problem John discovered is how pervasive the rust problem is. While the car s relatively rust free from the “B” pillar forward, almost everything back has the dreaded tin worm. One problem can be traced to the aftermarket electric sunroof installed by the original dealer, in which the drain holes never seemed to work correctly, collecting water within the roof panel, and support structure. The other problem was neglect, as if the car was parked in the mud, because the rear chassis and lower body is almost nonexistent. The one good thing about owning a unique vehicle based on a corresponding production one is that there are plenty of cheap, spare parts to replace components such as doors, fenders, and chassis parts, and this type of surgery is slated in the future for John’s car.

I asked John how he felt being the only participant to bring an early Callaway Scirocco into an event dominated by so many factory and modified Corvettes, and he said it was what he expected, except that instead of feeling like an outcast, he was totally embraced into the Callaway Family. So, as I bid farewell to John Kulp, and took the last set of images of his newly found pride and joy, maybe I shouldn’t feel out of place in which there is such a gathering of historical and ground breaking cars. And from that point, I didn’t.

It's had an engine upgrade and a ton of new parts, the interior is authentic Malaise Turquoise, and the whole package looks great. No doubt about it, this is the nicest example of a Rabbitamino we've seen in a long time. But… $12,000? What do you think?

[Craigslist San Francisco, thanks to Casadelshawn for the tip!]

There are ordinary Project Car Hell vehicles, and then there are the heavyweights. The projects that, in the words of the prophet John in Revelations 20:10, will have you "thrown into the lake of burning sulfur, where the beast and the false prophet had been thrown. They will be tormented day and night for ever and ever." In fact, the Book Of Revelations is the only shop manual you'll need with a PCH Heavyweight, and quite a bit of it is devoted to the V12-equipped Malaise Era Jaguar. In '82, you could buy a new XJ-S in the USA for $32,100 (about 72 grand today), but some pollutin' folks decided they wanted the 299-horsepower UK-market engine instead of the emissions-friendly 262-horse unit and imported their own. And, of course, those buyers headed right to the DMV, where Franz Kafka himself was waiting for them behind the counter. Fast-forward 25 years, and we find this '82 (go here if the ad disappears), which has a steering wheel on the left side and a price tag of just $695. Whoa, that's just over $50 per cylinder! Only 37,000 miles on the clock, never titled in the USA… is that the deal of the century or what? In a sentence that pretty much sums up Malaise Jag ownership, the seller states that he or she "Had running once but not run in the past few years." Perhaps the Prince Of Darkness fuel injection (PODFI) system is a contributing factor to the non-runningness, but you'll sort that out. Thanks to Delsysdsoftware for the tip!

We never get tired of V12s here, and we also never get tired of the Mercedes-Benz 450SEL 6.9. It's got a big hairy V8, it's got a Citroënesque hydropneumatic suspension, and it's got Top Mob Boss Grade luxury. In 1977, you'd have spent $39,377 for one. In 2008 dollars, that's about $141,000… but some folks don't understand the real value of these machines, which is why depreciation has gnawed away an astonishing 99.7% of the inflation-adjusted value of this 1977 Mercedes-Benz 450SEL 6.9 (go here if the ad disappears). That's got to be some sort of record, and you can be the beneficiary of this madness. Fainthearted types might think the seller's statement "this was a parts car i didnt use very many parts off of" is on the disquieting side, but the engine is (allegedly) good! We'll admit the transmission is bad, but the junkyards are full of V8 Benzes, and maybe the transmission out of a non-6.9 will bolt right up and not explode immediately. As for the suspension, how hard could it be? Hey, you can probably get this car for less than 400 bucks; in fact, "whatever you have to get it out of my yard" will take it away.

This car is owned by the man I consider to be the King Of Alameda BMWs; not only does he have a '74 E9 on the street, he's got a turbocharged 745i and who knows what other droolworthy Bavarian steel in the garage and scattered around the neighborhood. We'll be seeing the rest of his cars soon enough, but today it's the E24's turn. He picked up this '82 633CSi cheap when its previous owner despaired of ever getting his PCH running. It needs some work, but the body is straight and it now runs just fine.


It's tough to find an example of car-quality-per-dollar quite as good as you get with these things nowadays; the going rate on a nice E24 is down in 100,000-mile Civic territory, and this is a car that sold for the 2008 equivalent of 84 grand when new! The junkyards are chock-full of parts, too. BMWs don't usually get me too worked up, but I've got to admit that I'm seriously tempted to get an E24.

Eventually, the rarity of the early-80s coupes in North America sold me; back in the early 80s, what self-respecting wealthy car buyer craved the sportiness of a big Benz coupe, yet was willing to put up with the 120 horsepower of a rattly, smoky diesel? OK, the OM617 was actually quiet, didn't smoke, and was probably the most reliable automobile engine ever made, but Americans who look for stolid reliability tend to want four doors.


I'm not sure this is actually an '82; it could be as recent as 1985. The feds didn't change bumper requirements or any other obvious stuff during that period, and I'm not willing to piss off car owners by trying to read the VIN on the dash. What I do know is that the W123 coupe is so much better-looking than the sedan that the Reagan Administration should have passed a law outlawing the sedan version from our shores.


The list price on one of these babies ran pretty close to 35 grand back in the day. A couple thousand more and you could have had a brand-new, gasoline-burning BMW 633CSi. Say it's the early-to-mid 1980s, you're a crooked S&L functionary or importer of certain Colombian delicacies, and you're shopping for your Teutonic dream coupe. Which one would you buy?

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