2004 Mitsubishi Eclipse GTS Spyder - On a Mission from God

No sooner had I sold our 2006 Chevrolet Tahoe that my wife and I found this 2004 Mitsubishi Eclipse GTS Spyder after a test drive of a 2013 Honda CR-V at a Honda dealership just west of our home near Cleveland, Ohio. More than half the price of the Honda with none of the quirks of an early hybrid and ten times the fun, although it's probably not the best vehicle in a "snow-city" (at least it's front-wheel-drive), we're madly in love and the plan is it will (eventually) replace my medieval 2002 Dale Earnhardt Chevrolet Monte Carlo. Replace an old car with one that's almost as old? Dave Ramsey would be so proud of us. 

She was not perfect. Couple of parking lot dings, the driver's seat was worn pretty bad and the trim on the driver's door (above) was badly scratched. The driver's door wouldn't stay propped open either. Still, with only 61,000 miles on her seventeen-year old digital odometer and not a hint of rust anywhere, she was quite, dare I say in an insane used-car market, the bargain. And I was determined to make it the most perfect 2004 Eclipse GTS Spyder it could be be. 

It wasn't easy. Mitsubishi hasn't made this generation of their Eclipse since 2005 and "new-old-stock" (NOS) parts are not available even in dealerships. Sundries like disparate engine and transmission paraphernalia, perhaps, but replacement seat covers, interior baubles and what are referred to as "hinge-checks" so doors stay open aren't even available at Autozone; the gang at Autozone didn't even know what hinge-checks were. Would I have still bought this car had I known all this prior? It's convenient for me to say "no" at this point but what good would that do? We're stuck with this now. Good thing we like it as much as we do. 

First things first since it was a real thron in my side - the worn driver's seat (above). I called my upholstery guy before I bought the car and he said if I could find seat covers the cost of them plus the install would run around $1,500. I used that as a bargaining chip and, in retrospect not so amazingly, it worked; the dealership knocked about a grand off the asking price. Go. Me. I mean, how hard would it be to find replacement seat covers, right? Turned out, again, impossible. Well, to find "new" ones. 

I found what I thought was this luscious but dirty all-black leather interior out of an Eclipse I found in the Pull-A-Part lot in Cleveland. I could have had this for under two-hundred bucks (!)  but my wife insisted we stick with the black and blue motif our car has. 

That left me scrolling through Facebook Marketplace and Craigslist for an Eclipse with an interior the same as ours that wasn't torn up. And in a car that wasn't going to cost me a small fortune. Good luck with that, right? 

Akin to searching for a needle in a haystack, after weeks of fruitless searching I found this '03 Spyder  prostrate after a collision with...a cow; the poor thing was upended and landed on the hood crushing it; explains what ever this hideous blue replacement thing is. The radiator got knocked out too and the frame behind the front fascia took quite a wallop. While not sold as a parts car, for $999, I thought it a good deal seeing if I bought it, took the interior parts I needed and then junked the whole thing I'd be ahead of the game. I offered the seller $750. He countered with $800 plus a $50 tow to where I needed it taken. Within reason. 

Things got interesting because the car was in Moraine, Ohio, a suburb of Dayton; a brisk three-and-a-half hour drive southwest of us. The seller said "no" to my parting it out where it was and $50 wouldn't cover his tow guy hauling it up here. AAA would cover two-hundred miles of the two-hundred fifteen mile jaunt as part of my membership, but they charge approximately twenty-five bucks a mile above two-hundred. Ugh. Still, might be a reasonable investment considering how nice the interior of this car is but I couldn't make the math work in my head. 

Unfazed by logistical details, I called my old friend Pete who lives in the bucolic hinterland between Dayton and Cincinnati and asked if he'd mind if I had a "parts-car" towed to his house that I'd gut and have towed away. He obliged although I could tell that he and his wife Charlotte thought my plan hair-brained if not slightly crazy. Objectively, I couldn't disagree but my rabid focus on fixing my car's interior, particularly since I saw a means to an end, turned me into a Rube Goldberg-esque madman. I was on a mission from god and this had to get done.  

The drive to Moraine was a breeze on a freakishly warm, mid-autumn central-Ohio day. I'd made it countless times visiting our older son at the University of Dayton and the route through there my wife and I had taken on traipses to see Pete and Charlotte as well as on dashes to Nashville and beyond. Things got a little sideways, though, when I got to the "house" or compound of sorts where the Eclipse I wanted to buy was and the seller was nowhere to be found. The "tow-truck" driver was, his name was Raymond, but he had no idea he was to be towing anything that day let alone the car I wanted to buy. At that point my emotional micro-processor went into over-drive trying to rationalize that I wasn't wasting upwards of eight hours of my life. 

Thankfully, Raymond was friendly and amenable. Especially after I told him I was to pay him fifty-bucks to haul the Eclipse I wanted some thirty miles south. He contacted the seller who was out notarizing the title and apologized for not looping Raymond in on what was going on. Raymond and I cleared his trailer off of car parts, lawn furniture, animal traps and leaves and we loaded "my car" on it. I paid the owner $800, he gave me the notarized title, I paid Raymond $50 for the tow and off we went. 

I thought about asking Raymond himself what he'd want for a tow to Cleveland but after seeing his "truck", I knew it was best I hadn't. A 1999-ish Chevrolet S-10 pickup with a 4.3-liter V-6 that sounded like it was running on four cylinders, five at the most and with a nasty knock, I knew it was best I didn't ask him. He claimed the noise it made was from a "Borla" muffler and the knocking was from a "spun rod bearing" that he hadn't "gotten around to fixin' jus' yit". Best was, he had me tail him to block the chance a cop would "pop him" for driving with an expired temporary tag. Would my knowledge of such make me complicit? 

With his exhaust blaring, the engine knocking and his transmission screaming as we bobbed up and down the rolling hills of back-roads southern Ohio, we arrived at my friend's house about forty-five minutes later and way later in the day than I originally planned; the activities prior to us leaving Moraine sucking roughly three hours out of my afternoon. That meant I'd be fighting darkness to dismantle the car. First, though, I had to flip the title over to myself. 

That was important because I promised Pete and Charlotte the car would be gone as soon as possible and to even junk a car in the state of Ohio, the "owner", that would be me, has to have the title in their name and the title notarized with the name of the buyer on it. Thankfully, there was title bureau nearby and there was all but no line. 

 

How I missed our cavernous Tahoe as Pete and I stuffed my Monte Carlo with way more parts off this thing than I needed. After about three hours of wrenching, I thanked him and Charlotte for their generosity, passed on dinner and hit the road northeast, title-in-hand, having no idea how I was going to get rid of the junker sitting at the end of their driveway. I told them I'd figure that out first thing in the morning.  

In the morning I off-loaded my bounty and marveled at my accomplishment. Sure, it was a lot of work and it took an entire day, but I had my replacement drivers seat, door-trim, and hinge-checks. I got greedy taking the passenger front seat and rear seats, although I have no idea what I'm going to do with that stuff. Bonus, the junker had a pair of JVC 6X9 speakers that would be a significant upgrade to the factory "Infinity" speakers my car had. So, all in for $800 plus the tow and the title office bilking me to flip the title, I was still in the black as far as I was concerned. 

Just as I was about to call a junkyard near Pete and Charlotte's house to get the particulars on getting rid of the car, Raymond, my tow-truck driver, called me and said he'd offer me $300 for the "shell" that I left behind. Well, that was near double what a junkyard would pay me and I jumpedon on his offer. I got his last name and address and promised to "over-night" the notarized title to him as soon as he paid Pete and Charlotte cash for the car. Which he promptly did. Pete Venmo'd me $300 and that, anti-climatically, was that. 

One last challenge was the seat out of the "donor car" was manual while my seat was "power". I called my upholstery guy who said he could flip them over for a hundred-bucks. After doing so he said the leather was dry-rotting and I needed to treat it with saddle-soap and the same conditioner you'd use on a high quality leather coat or sofa. And be sure to let everything dry thoroughly before sitting on it. Good to know. The fruits of my labor are above. 

By the way, I have no idea what ever happened to the poor cow. 

 

1964 Mercury Comet - Blame it on the Bossa Nova

Much like Dodge's "Dart", when I think of a "Mercury Comet", I first think of a small-car. Not surprising since I grew up in the 70's and a Mercury Comet when I was a kid was a compact car. And my first car was one of those "little" Comet's too. 

That wasn't the case in the 1960's as the Mercury Comet, while based on Ford's new-for-1960 compact Falcon, was a pretty big car; not full-size by the standards of the day but at one-hundred ninety-five inches long stem-to-stern, it was hardly what you could consider tiny. I literally ran into this red-on-red '64 the other night in the upholstery shop where I had work done to the driver's seat on my "new-to-me", 2004 Mitsubishi Eclipset GTS Spyder. It's either the smallest big car ever made or vice-versa. 

I'm not a Ford girl and perhaps it was the red-paint, the lighting, my excitement about getting my seat back, the cozy environ or the bossa nova, but I was all but slobbering over this thing like a five-year old on Chrustmas morning. 

The first "Comet" was actually slated to be a 1960 Edsel known as the Model B and was based on a one-hundred fourteen inch long version of the Ford Falcon's one-hundred nine inch base. The Edsel Model B was also more than thirteen inches longer than a Falcon. However, when Edsel went belly-up after model-year 1959, the car was rebranded as simply "Comet", similar to "Valiant by Chrysler", and was sold through Mercury dealerships. It was christened officially as a "Mercury Comet" stating in 1963. 

Ford, err, Mercury, redesigned Comet for 1964 using the same chassis the previous model used. Less than an inch longer than the "original" Comet, it's lack of tail-fins and straighter flanks gave the illusion that it was larger than it actually was. Which, somewhat ironically given that Comet was, for all intents and purposes a "smaller car", meant something back in the day when the size of a car supposedly mattered to American's. Was the Comet a big small car or a small big car? Personally, I think it's sized perfectly and a lot of buyers back then felt the same way; Comet sold pretty well. For a Mercury anyways. 

Our lovely red-head being a Comet "Cyclone" meant it was born with a "high-performance" 289 cubic-inch V-8 similar to the "Hi-Po" 289 cubic-inch V-8 of Mustang fame. In 1966, Mercury moved the Comet to the same intermediate chassis Ford used to under-pin their Fairlane. 

Comet became the awful Ford Maverick based turd of my childhood starting in 1971. Even back then I felt as though "my Comet" was a come-lately to a party that was quite the rager. Based on this '64, turns out I was right. 

About the only thing I learned about this car was that it was originally white, it was "frankenstiened" up the ying-yang and was in the shop getting a new headliner and rear seats to match the previously restored front buckets. 

The rest of my conversation with the shop owner was about keeping old leather in good shape. By the way, he recommended I use saddle soap and the same leather conditioner you'd use on a high quality leather jacket or sofa; never use Armour All or any leather cleaner you'd find in an Autozone or what not. Let the saddle soap dry completely before sitting on it too. 

1983 Buick Electra and Oldsmobile Delta 88 Royale - High School Reunion

Ran into some old friends at the Pull-A-Part the other day while I was there "pulling" a fender off a 2001 Chevrolet Malibu to replace the crumpled one on my son's 2003. I also searched in vain for a power antenna for my wife's '95 Lexus SC400 and my new-to-me '04 Mitsubishi Eclipse GTS Sypder. 

 

First was this 1983 Oldsmobile Delta 88 Royale Brougham coupe I stumbled on when I was walking to my doner. 

Part of GM's downsized class of 1977, they were shorter than what they replaced by about a foot-long. They were still huge and in a sea of relatively diminutive modern cars our 88 here looks like beached whale. 

No takers for its fairly historic engine. This mill being, technically at least, the last vestige of Oldsmobile's venerated "Rocket" V-8's that started the whole "muscle-car" hoopla back in 1949. 

I rummaged through the interior looking for the factory radio to slide into my 1977 Corvette. No dice, dag-nab it. 

Next up on the "look-who's-here-at-this-impromptu-class-reunion" was this 1983 Buick Electra Park Avenue. 

Doesn't seem like that long ago that these were the choice of the wealthy who didn't want to really show off they had "it". 

In Park Avenue trim, this big dog was the top-of-the-line Buick for '83. Frankly, the only thing top-of-the-line was the price tag. For its princely sum, you didn't get much more luxury than you'd have gotten in a Chevrolet Caprice.

She too still has her Oldsmobile 307 V-8 engine. Buick never built a five-liter V-8 so when they needed one, they used five-liter mills from Chevrolet and Pontiac from 1977 through 1979 and eventually going exclusively with Oldsmobile's 307 when Olds started building them in 1980. Fun fact, Buick got out of building V-8 engines altogether after 1980. 

I plowed through her interior as well looking for a AC Delco radio. Just as much luck. 

I've spent a little too much time in this yard lately. That's what happens when you have a fleet of cars as old as mine. Nice to have a little diversion every now and then. 

1986 Chevrolet Corvette - Don't Meet Your Idols

How many times do I need to be reminded not to meet my heroes and idols? 

I was quite enamored of the "new-Corvette" when it first came out for no other reason than it was finally a Corvette that looked to be really all-new. For years prior Chevrolet touted the subtle and not so subtle changes made to the old Corvette, the star-crossed third-generation or "C3", as being substantial, world-changing and world-beating, Oh, how we longed for something all-new. Careful what you wish for.  

History the cruel judge it can be, we fast-forward the better part of four-decades and we find there's less respect for early fourth-generation or "C4" Corvette's like our burnt-orange '86 "drop-top" here than there is for "C3's". In particular the later ones like my 1977. Styling being the main culprit for certain no one would argue that a C3 of any year belongs on the same track as any C4. 

Most of the sins of the C4's styling, through my foggy goggles, were forgiven when Chevrolet came out with a convertible model in 1986. Built in partnership with the same talented folks who gave us the convertible 1982-1985 Buick Riviera and 1983-1985 Cadillac Eldorado, all the half-baked awkwardness of the fast-back was gone, replaced by a silhouette, top up or down, that's pure Hollywood. 

I found this one not far from my office. With only 43,000 on it's thirty-five year old ticker and a semi-digestible asking price of $10,500, the wife and I kicked its tires on a Saturday afternoon about a month ago. 

It's been years since I've driven a C4 and I've forgotten how hard they are to get in and out of. My '77 is certainly not as easy to get into as most SUV's or even a sedan but this thing is ridiculous. The "sill" so wide I had to take a giant stride to get over it then grab the steering wheel as I swung myself into a ball and plopped myself down into a seat that was somehow simultaneously rock hard and softly enveloping. 

My tiny wife had to do the same only her immediate reaction was different than mine. "Smells like (cigarette) smoke", she said. Sure as hell did. It was also filthy inside then again the salesman said it hadn't gone through service yet. Hmm, ok. 

The seat was too low and too far back and it wouldn't move. Then I noticed the manual was a 4+3; GM's goofy transmission that skips 2nd and 3rd gear when you're going slow to save gas. The engine has enough torque that you don't really need 2nd and 3rd when just cruising casually; when you're getting on it 2nd and 3rd are magically available to you. I've driven these before and thought nothing of them but sitting as low as I was, I felt as though I had to reach up to shift the comically long shifter. Awkward. 

Sitting as far back as I was, pushing the clutch in was a real joy. And it's heavy and long play didn't help matters. Finally I got the engine turned over and the big old L-98 didn't disappoint. It's growling manliness reminding me of the way engines used to sound. Actually, it sounded a lot like the L-48 in my '77 but...I digress. 

Then I couldn't find first gear. Or was that reverse? No, wait...isn't that fourth? I hoped and prayed I was in some forward gear when I let out the clutch and...I stalled it. Subsequent tries weren't much better until finally after maybe the sixth try, I got the thing to move.  

I tried in vain to shift out of first with about as much success as getting it in there; the sales guy must have thought I'd never driven a manual before as I herked and jerked it. It's been a long time since I'd driven a manual with as clumsy a gear box and with a clutch that might be failing too. 

I never left the dealer lot. 

I put it right back where I found it pulling through a parking space so I didn't have to attempt to find reverse. I popped open the clam-shell hood to peak at the engine and the passenger side hinge was collapsed; it took both me and the sales guy to prop it open. The wife had long given up and was sitting in our car playing Words with Friends. 

He called me nearly three weeks later after it "went through service". I thanked him for the call and told him I wasn't interested in getting another "project car" like the one I had already. Interesting how a dealership would sell such a rough car "as-is" especially with an asking price of $10,500. Did they service the transmission, fix the power seats and replace the hood-hinge? I didn't ask lest I give the impression I was still interested in it. 

Amazingly, as put-off by this car as I was, I wasn't dismayed. Well, maybe just a little as I think if I was to get one of these I'd opt for an automatic. I'm still casually looking for an L-98 powered, C4 convertible and I know if I put my mind to it I will find one. Only, again, not this one. 

 

1963 Ford Galaxie 500 XL Convertible - Thunderbird Pixie Dust

Amazing what you find when you're not looking for it, yknow? I "found" this 1963 Ford Galaxie parked in the transmission shop across the gravel lot from my office in bucolic Youngstown, Ohio the other morning and I made a mental note to take a closer look at it later in the day when it would hopefully be a little warmer. That I did despite the temperature hovering around forty god-forsaken degrees. 

No sooner had I started snapping these photos when the very friendly owner of the shop, he called himself "Duke", came out and told me to make an offer on it; apparently the owner wants it gone. 

I didn't ask what they would want for it but seeing how hyper-inflated the market is right now I'd venture to guess it would be north of ten-grand. I told the guy that if it was a '63 Impala I might make a serious stab at it. That was pure b.s. but it kept the conversation going and got me a tour of the inner workings of his shop since he's a Chevy girl himself.  

If I just told him I was only interested in this Ford it to blog about it I think he would have told me to beat it. Thrown a socket at me and called me a geek too.  

He had just finished "freshening" the transmission so he's been all over this thing. He said the frame is solid which is amazing seeing it's allegedly spent it's fifty-eight years on earth here in road-salt encrusted N.E. Ohio. The body does need a little work, though and the yellow-ish paint does the lines of this thing no favors. A fresh coat of white would do wonders and would play off the navy blue-convertible top that's in pristine shape despite being twenty-some years old. 

Interior's kind of rough although it does have buckets and a console in a lovely shade of blue. Seats need to be redone and that can get pricey. And no, it's not something I'd do myself; I know my limits and working on upholstery is not in my wheel house. 

No idea what happened to the rear bumper. Darn thing probably couldn't withstand a twig falling on it without denting anyway. Good luck finding one affordably and in good enough shape it wouldn't need to be "re-dipped"? 

Playing off of America's facination with space at the time, Ford first introduced the world to a "Galaxie" in mid-year 1959. It was their new range-topping trim-package above the Fairlane 500. When Ford switched the Fairlane nameplate to their new intermediate range for 1962, all big Ford's became "Galaxie's" and that was the case through 1966 when the LTD became the top-dog Ford. 

For 1963, there was the base Galaxie, the Galaxie 500 and the Galaxie 500 XL like our tranny-shop find here. "XL" standing for either "extra-luxury" or "extra-lively". There was never a "XXL" or "XXXL". Four-X, anyone? 

She's got an "FE" (Ford-Edsel) 390 cubic-inch "Thunderbird" V-8. In the late 1950's and through a good chunk of the early to mid '60's Ford sprinkled Thunderbird pixie dust on many of their models. A pox on me for not getting pictures of the engine it when I had the hood open. I also thought I got more pictures of this thing too before Duke introduced himself. 

My phone rang halfway through my tour and Duke and I parted the closest of friends.  These old Ford's are not my cup of motor oil but I'll take any excuse to get outside in the middle of the day. Making new friends over old cars making it so much the better.  

Genesis GV80 - The Ghost of Christmas (Yet to Come)

One of the many problems Hyundai had when they first launched their luxury brand "Genesis", was they came with sedans instead of an SUV or cross-over in an age when folks in general, not just the well-heeled or those wanting to be perceived as such, were jumping out of cars en masse. Well, that's all but a memory as here we have one of three cross-over's from Hyundai, err, Genesis. Ladies and gents, behold a Genesis GV80.  If you're like, excuse me. A what? Well, you're not alone. 

It's Hyundai's top-of-the-line "Genny" and it's been around since 2020. I guess I missed that press release about its release when I was hunkered down in quarantine in the early days of the pandemic. It's probably most famous for being the vehicle Tiger Woods was driving when he had that horrific accident last spring. Based alone on Tiger not getting killed in the multiple roll-over and subsequent slam into trees at eighty-seven miles per hour, it's apparently one robust vehicle. 

Our '80 here shares the Genesis side of Hyundai showrooms with the similar looking but smaller GV70 and all-electric GV60. Have to imagine that a "GV90" is in the works that will be styled similarly to the elephantine Hyundai Palisade and Kia Tuluride. Unlike Honda, Toyota and Nissan, Hyundai didn't set up a separate dealership network for Genesis. Yet?  

The GV80, which is based off the Genesis G80 sedan, looks like a mash-up of Acura, Lexus and Infiniti cross-overs with some Audi, BMW and Mercedes thrown-in. The end result is a puree of disparate styling details that simultaneously sort of works and comes up short. Perhaps "Generic GV80"  would be a better name for this thing although that doesn't quite have the same ring. "Genericis", anyone? 

The interior is a different story. It's fabulous. These are stock photos; I learned a long time ago not to photograph the inside of people's cars. I want to rub my face all over these things. Lick them too. They look delicious enough to eat. 

This interior wouldn't look out of place in a Bentley or Rolls, not surprisingly it was designed by a former Bentley staffer. This makes the interior of any modern Mercedes-Benz of Bimmer look dowdy. But I have to remind myself, Chuckie, baby, this is still a Hyundai. 

Fun-fact - Hyundai's not targeting their "Genesis" brand at the well-heeled "BMW customer" but rather younger millennial's and Gen-Z's who aren't brand loyal to anything let alone BMW, Mercedes-Benz, Audi and the like and to whom the value proposition of the Genesis brand makes sense. Those kids with money to burn and a long runway before retirement see a nice looking widget and don't have any preconceived notions about it. 

If you can wrap your mental bumper around that you begin to realize the entire world doesn't revolve around you, your opinion and your generation and that Hyundai might be onto something. Personally,
"The Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come" in me doesn't see a bright future for Genesis but time will tell. 

Auto scribes giving the Genesis GV80 high-praise for it's performance capability and build quality falls on my tone-deaf ears; I simply don't care. Again, I'm not a fan of anything Hyundai stemming from a piss-poor experience with one decades ago and even an Elantra my wife and I rented recently failed to impress me. Bottom line, I think Hyundai's are junk and there's no telling me different. That's just my two-cents and my opinion is probably worth less than that. 

With a base sticker of $66,000 that supposedly undercuts the tonier makes and models it obviously emulates, it's still a ton of money for a vehicle that has an atrocious resale value. At the end of the day that fact should tell you all you need to know. If you're so inclined, be as smart with your disposable income in the ways that got you in the fortunate space to be able to afford a vehicle this expensive; lease these suckers, don't buy them.