I have something to admit, restored cars bore me. In these times of over-restored, better-than-factory restorations, cars have achieved a level of perfection that absolutely robs them of their personality. Let me explain.
The Gage Canadian Dictionary defines patina as the “appearance produced by age and exposure on substances…” In the automotive world, it generally refers to cars that wear their histories well. You’ve seen them at car shows; remarkably well-preserved cars, with slightly faded, chipped original paint, exposed stitching and slightly worn fabric on the seats, and scratches in the chrome. You admire how well they have aged, and are intrigued by the story these imperfections tell of their lives.
Well, at least I am. While attending cars shows, you are more likely to see me wandering the parking lot, where patina cars tend to reside in packs, than walking the endless rows of perfect show cars. If I see another “factory-stock” restored split window with a polished, powder-coated floor pan attached with stainless steal hardware, and a body painted with 8 layers of clear coat that have been wet sanded and buffed, giving it that “plastic-fantastic look,” I think I’m going to shoot myself! Or worse, die a slower and less violent death due to boredom. Volkswagen never built it like that, and any story that the car could tell of its original construction or life experience has been erased. Modern restorations are not fountains of youth for old cars, they are revisionist interpretations of a level of build quality that never existed. But I digress…
Before the hate mail begins to flow, let me clarify that I understand most of the old warhorses limping down the highways or slowly returning to nature in backyards around the world are in need of restoration. Many are beyond saving, and I’m amazed at the dedication and workmanship it takes to bring them back from near-death experiences. While I’m impressed by the commitment these owners demonstrate, I nevertheless find the end result – the restored car – uninteresting. I expect recently restored cars to look good, but I am impressed by cars that have survived long lives with nothing more than regular mechanical maintenance.
What really bothers me is perfectly preserved cars that are nonetheless restored due to the owner’s intolerance of imperfection. I regularly see incredibly well-preserved cars being subjected to full restorations because the bonnet “had some scratches,” or the primer on the rear fenders was starting to wear through in spots after 40 years of washing and polishing. Rather than embracing the car as a remarkable survivor, the owner has the entire car repainted. It is easiest in life to do things in an all-or-nothing approach, driving a better-than-factory restored oval window, or a beat-to-hell Ghia. It is much harder, however, to walk the middle line of preserved imperfection.
One of my favourite patina cars is a 1959 Porsche 356 Carrera Speedster, chassis #84950. This hot rod Speedster was one of the faithful mounts of legendary Porsche driver, Bruce “King Carrera” Jennings during the 1950s and ’60′s. Jennings was a serious threat in SCCA competition during that period with his stable of Carreras, winning numerous races across the U.S., despite racing against more powerful cars from Ferrari, Jaguar, and later, Corvette. Jennings won the 1960 and 1964 C-Production National Championships, finishing 2nd in the 1962 B Production National Championship, and continued to be competitive until retiring his Speedsters in 1969.
Jennings’ most famous Speedster, #84461, was eventually bought by the Collier Collection in Florida, where it was over-restored, destroying all evidence of its distinguished racing career. In its restored state, the car is almost as exciting as vanilla ice cream. His other famous Speedster, chassis #84950 (pictured here), was eventually purchased by its current owner, Dave Coleman. This famous car, however, remains unrestored, proudly wearing the history of a hard-fought racing career, and still takes to the track in anger.
I was eager to see this car at Limerock Park in Connecticut during the 2001Porsche Rennsport Reunion. With faded paint, dried Goodyear racing tyres, and a pockmarked face, it was as if it had been sent via time machine to the track, and I couldn’t take my eyes off it. I was equally amazed that, despite the history, most people paid no attention to the car, walking past it straight to the over-restored 356s and 550s, to admire 20 coats of paint and polished chassis.
Friends, who quickly tire of my rant, call me “Patina Plow.” A life-long buddy of mine once said, “you can’t like anything unless it is first covered with a bucket of shit and then driven cross-county!” He has a point.
There is a backlash in other classic car circles towards over-restoring cars, as well as a growing appreciation of cars that have miraculously survived the ravages of use, serving as a time capsule and historical reference point for all of us. I, for one, can’t wait until the backlash reaches the VW scene. Until that time, I will continue to do my part and take up arms in defence of patina cars, driving my car cross-country to spread the message, only stopping at the occasional outhouse along the way to touch-up the patina.
