Car and truck auctions are popular among dealers and traders, but sometimes the general public gets a shot and the results are not always pretty. Peter Martin with details:
The car was listed as a ’79 Z/28. That was all we knew—no trip to a mechanic, not even a minute in the driver’s seat, let alone a test drive—and that was enough. Chin translated the confusion, bidding and telling me the price as it went up in smaller and smaller increments. But I didn’t want to reassess what the car was worth to me every time he checked in. I wanted the car. I said as much to Chin, and after a few more wags of a finger or drops of that monster chin to his chest, the car was mine.
The result? A lesson learned.
Turned out I was the new owner of a ten-mile-per-gallon, 400-horsepower beast with a broken speedometer and a racing clutch that took all my strength to get to the floor. We drove the thousand miles back using the tachometer and the flow of traffic to gauge our speed. And sure, blue smoke started somewhere in North Carolina, but we somehow found a Kmart with a service bay open on Sunday, and a guy willing to replace the oil-sending unit even though he had already clocked out.