Datsun 620, Travco 220, Suzuki Cappuccino: The Dopest Cars I Found For Sale Online

I get that a friendly little bright blue pickup isn’t exactly spooky, but think about what kind of gremlins might lurk under the surface! Sure, it’s got a ton of fresh work inside and out, but there’s a little bit of surface rust on the front bumper! SpooOOooOOky!

Okay, this week’s slides may not be all that spooky, but remember that this is only the first Dopest of October. We’ve got weeks to get creepier and creepier, until every slide is just Christine. Damn, should I do an Oops All Christines edition of Dopest?

For so long, I never liked the first-generation Mustang. I thought it was trite, played out, overdone. Turns out, what I didn’t like were the Boomer-core restomods and immaculate preservations — I actually love a first-gen Mustang with a story.

This one, unquestionably, has a story. A six-cylinder, three-speed Mustang with no grille badge and questionable paint? That’s a car that’s lived, unlike so many of its ilk that have been nothing but investments. Let your cars live, people.

Speaking of cars that have lived, this Miata has maybe lived a little too much. Apparently it will run if the fuel tank is cleaned out, which I believe based on how cockroach reliable first-generation Miatas seem to be. They’re like two-strokes, you just can’t kill them.

Normally that unkillability comes at a price, but this Miata is almost suspiciously cheap. Maybe it’s the dust, or the work needed, or the racing stripes. Miatas just never look good in racing stripes.

Here is a certified He’ll Yeah Borther vehicle. The lights, the winch, the lift, the wheels sticking out — it’s all just perfect. That’s before you even mention the small block under the hood, of course.

This, perhaps more than anything else in this week’s slides, has the potential to haunt you for years to come. How well does a small block really work in an XJ? One way to find out, I guess. You have to buy it.

OK, maybe there’s competition for the most haunted vehicle in Dopest. I’m not saying a 45-year-old Vespa is guaranteed to be unreliable, I’m just saying... yeah, that a 45-year-old Vespa is pretty much guaranteed to be unreliable.

This P200e does have some beautiful patina, and a service history that includes “a little porting work” within the last year, but is that enough to make it a treat rather than a trick? That’s up to you.

I love that this RV seems to exist in some sort of RV community. Sure, your eye is drawn to this beautifully retro, Snoopy-adorned, Dodge 440-powered camper, but look just past in on the right in the photo — a whole vanlife Sprinter build. What kind of prepper communities are happening in Ohio?

The seller here claims a slew of recent work, including a full transmission rebuild, which is to be expected from someone who keeps their RV in such immaculate shape. Look at it glisten! You just don’t see campers like this any more.

Someday, I swear, I will learn how to tell the difference between an Evo VIII and an Evo IX without just looking at the grille. So far, that’s been my method — body color behind the Mitsubishi logo and it’s an VIII, otherwise it’s an IX — but that’s probably not incredibly useful when you start reaching the world of aftermarket bumpers.

Behind that front bumper, though, this Evo seems to be a very clean build. Some real overnight parts from Japan energy in the engine bay, with HKS and Greddy logos galore, and a big wing out back to cap it off. Team Emperor wishes they had this.

Yeah, I don’t really know what’s going on here either. A C3, a late C3, with a front end extended to accommodate C7 headlights? It looks bad. You should buy it as a bit. That’s about all the salespersonship I’ve got on this one.

This GM product, however, is a much easier sell. Not only is it a Saturn Sky — a better size than the Corvette, and better styled than the Pontiac Solstice — but it’s a Sky Red Line, with the turbo engine. This is a good car, and it really sells itself.

This one in particular has more going for it than just that. With an upgraded turbo and wastegate and a tune to account for the new parts, the seller claims 320 horsepower to the wheels, and even without a dyno chart to back it up that’s a number that’s entirely reasonable for this kind of kit.

Help, I’m thinking about Urals again. I don’t want one, because a sidecar would be more trouble than it’s worth for me, but I don’t not want one. They’re just so nostalgic to ride, even the first time you swing a leg over one. They feel good.

Has anyone ever stripped the sidecar off of a Ural? I asked folks at the company about it, and they claimed the suspension is only set up to work with the sidecar attached. Could you slap some Ohlins on and run it as a two-wheeler? Is that any easier than just buying a BMW airhead?

I’ve really been coming around on the styling of ‘50s and ‘60s cars recently. These old coupes are incomprehensively massive in scale, but look at how clean the lines are! Neither overstyled nor melted-soap smooth, just a fantastically thought-out visual aesthetic.

This Barracuda has such an interesting look even within that era, with the narrow grille and inset fog lights. Sure, it’s a thousand feet long, but you’ve got room to park it. I mean, I don’t, but I assume you do.

This, though, I think I could park. Even here in Brooklyn, where street parking is a privilege to fight and kill over, little kei cars like this Cappuccino can slot right in. Alternate side parking? No sweat.

I don’t really think I’d fit in a Cappuccino, given my past history of being too tall even for Miatas, but maybe I could make it work. I truly hope so, I love these little things. Like a miniature NB.

Vintage Volkswagen shooting brake. Is there a better string of words in the English language? Please don’t jump into the comments telling me that Volkswagen is technically German and thus makes this sentence not English. I will ban you.

I understand, logically, that old VWs are not vehicles to be daily driven. They aren’t reliable enough, parts aren’t accessible or cheap enough, they just aren’t built for that task any more. But, god, look at this body shape and tell me you wouldn’t want to drive it every day. It’s just so pretty.

This body shape I’ve got less of an explanation for. It’s not the only widebody 914 I’ve ever seen, but it may well be the cleanest — it’s not some bolted on affair, purely for the track with no concern for aesthetics, but a truly clean-looking widebody.

Not to say that track rat builds are bad, but just look at how nice this 914 is. Ignore the mismatched paint. And the broken headlight cover. Besides those two things, isn’t this a great looking car? Don’t you want it?

Does anyone want to loan me ten grand? I’m good for it, I swear. It’s for, uh... Something else. Not this.