Five Guilty-Pleasure Cars That Are More Fun To Drive Than You'd Expect

By Sam Barer

Sound Classics

I ran a story on my Four Wheel Drift site recently titled “Five Classics That Aren’t Nearly As Fun To Drive As People Think They Are” that proved to be pretty controversial. Call a baby ugly and evidently you’re bound to be read the Riot Act from a number of angry parents.

To even out my Karma (or Car-ma, as the case might be), I’ll let CarDomain readers know that there are also five guilty-pleasure cars that are much more fun to drive than people think. We’ll see if you all agree with my picks.

Dodge Neon: Let’s get something clear: the Neon was (and will always be) a lousy car to own. Only Chrysler (well, maybe Fiat, as well) could sell something this poorly built with a straight face. Pretty much every component on the Neon was engineered to the same quality levels as a Chinese elementary school.

On the upside, though, Dodge Neons are simply a blast to drive really hard. Even the base versions with the single overhead cam 132-hp two-liter inline-four are peppy enough, but the DOHC 150-hp version is even more fun. Handling is ultra-nimble for a compact sedan. Steering and brake pedal feedback is so much better than other Chrysler cars that it makes one wonder how it can be this good on a built-to-a-price car, but so numb, sloppy, vague, and squishy on more the expensive 300C, Charger and Challenger.

For years Neons were my rental car of choice when on business in congested cities. The scrappy little Dodge turned turnpikes and Times Square alike into an autocross. If only I had a chance to rent the later SRT-4 Neon, that would have been the bomb.

1956-1962 “Solid Axle” Corvettes: How and why can I include the C1 Corvettes on a list of guilty pleasure cars? Go ask any collector or enthusiast what they think about first-gen Corvettes and chances are they’ll quickly start ranting that C1s drive like trucks and are horrible to live with…even if they’ve never driven one.

I’m here to tell you that ’56-’62 Corvettes are infinitely more fun to drive than any 1968-1982 third-generation car. Chalk it up to many things. First, the C1 is over a foot shorter overall than a C3, but has a wheelbase that is about four inches longer. Secondly, GM’s atrocious power steering that makes driving any so-equipped C3 akin to a shouting match with Helen Keller didn’t debut until the 1963 C2 Sting Ray. Thirdly, the body lines don’t distort the view of the car’s corners, so hitting an apex is far less of a guessing game.

Lastly, there’s an intangible quality that makes a C1 more exciting to drive hard–I’ve never been sure if it’s the large (yet comfortable) steering wheel and slightly clunky gearbox or maybe the way the car’s cart-like suspension tells you exactly what it thinks of you. Putting a solid axle Vette into a four wheel drift is quite easy…and it feels positively magical as the car rotates using your vertical smile as an axis. Although ’63-’67 Sting Rays build and improve upon C1 dynamics, after owning four C3s (three big block cars and one small block) somehow with similar underpinnings to C2s, they still felt dangerously out of their element when the limits of lateral adhesion were compromised.

Mazda Miata: You say “it’s a girl’s car”. I say “yes it is, as long as you’re talking about Denise McCluggage, Pat Moss, Desire Wilson, Danica Patrick, Janet Guthrie, Lyn St. James, Donna Mae Mims, or any other go-fast estrogen-based life form.”

What Miatas lack in straight-line speed, they more than make up for in otherworldly handling, spectacular brakes and wonderful transmissions. The bottom line is that if you don’t have fun driving a Miata, you’re either not driving it hard enough or you have a different definition of fun than the rest.

VW Beetle: Forget the New Beetle, I’m talking about the original people’s car. It’s slow, its weight balance is all wrong, and it sounds like a blender full of clam shells, but driving a Beetle is fun–certainly way more fun than it should be.

The unforgettable Beetle driving experience includes the blast-screen-esque view through the upright windshield. There’s also the light, yet direct steering that still lets you know what those skinny tires are doing. During it all, you’re wondering how there’s so much interior room in such a small car.

Triumph TR7: The TR7 is one of the unloved icons helping to represent the failure of Triumph, its British Leyland parent company, and pretty much the entire British automotive industry. Drive one anywhere and it’s just a matter of time before you’ll hear the jokes and jeers–usually from someone who has never ridden in one.

But here’s where it gets more complicated: I included the TR8 on my list of cars that aren’t as fun as people think they are. The TR8 is basically just a TR7 with a V8, right?

Well, yes and no.

I’ll quickly debunk the typical TR7 myths. Quality was indeed really bad for 1975-1977 cars, but a shift to a different plant in 1978 resulted in quality and reliability as good as (or better) than the average 1970s import. While it is true that the original standard four speed transmission was horrible, most cars received the always optional (and later standard) five-speed unit. As for reports of the unreliable engine, the same overhead cam slant-four had been used for years in Saab 99s with no complaints. Headgaskets were noted for leaking, but in reality the failure rate was certainly no higher failure than something akin to leaks from composite intake manifolds found on millions of General Motors vehicles.

Journalists had three gripes, which included the lack of a convertible (rectified when the roadster appeared in ’79), and ditching the TR6’s six cylinder engine and independent rear suspension for a slant-four and a live axle. On the road, though, the 90-hp TR7 actually outruns the 104-hp TR6 to 60mph by nearly two seconds. The slant-four revs two-grand higher and the whole car weighs 150 pounds less.

The TR7’s solid (by contemporary standards) unibody and great suspension geometry translates to what can only be described as handling like a poor-man’s Lotus. Steering is direct and quick. The car is always balanced and communicates quite well. It’s nearly impossible to get into trouble as the 13-inch tires scrub off extra speed entering a corner, and all available power goes to the pavement after the apex. Despite overwhelmed brakes, the TR7 can annihilate any previous TR, as well as just about any other comparable contemporary import roadster around a road course. Plus it’s extremely comfortable with plenty of luggage space.

The TR7′s goofy “shape of things to come” ad slogan and maligned image are always in the back of your mind. You could drive the more respected and nearly identical looking V8-powred TR8, but that isn’t the right move. You can read “Five Classics That Aren’t Nearly As Fun To Drive As People Think They Are” to find out why.