There are many stock phrases in the vocabularies of car collectors. They range from “that’s one of one” to “wonderful patina” to “I never should have sold it.” The one that seems to get me in the most trouble is, “Well, I’m not really looking, but…” You know the drill. You have a vague interest in a certain car. In my case, it was a Volvo P1800, the sports coupe Roger Moore drove in the television show “The Saint.” Not yet admitting that I was sliding down the slippery slope towards ownership, I started asking a few gurus what the best […]
There are many stock phrases in the vocabularies of car collectors.
They range from “that’s one of one” to “wonderful patina” to “I never should have sold it.”
The one that seems to get me in the most trouble is, “Well, I’m not really looking, but…”
You know the drill. You have a vague interest in a certain car. In my case, it was a Volvo P1800, the sports coupe Roger Moore drove in the television show “The Saint.”
Not yet admitting that I was sliding down the slippery slope towards ownership, I started asking a few gurus what the best year and colors were. My Round-Fendered Gang of Four in Portland — Dean Koehler, Peter Eulau, Chris Horn and Cameron Lovre — cumulatively possesses a formidable amount of Volvo information.
The Gang agreed that 1964 was the best year, as it was the last year of the “bullhorn” split front bumpers. It still had Art Deco gauges with striking turquoise-colored centers, and the engine wasn’t strangled by any emissions equipment. It also was the first year the car was built in Sweden. It had been assembled by Jensen in England before that.
From 1965 to the last year, 1973, the now-named 1800S and the later 1800E models had a one-piece, straight front bumper.
Black is a very rare and sexy color, they decreed. Coupling it with a red interior made for the most striking color combination.
I still hadn’t admitted that I was really looking for an 1800S. After all, with the purchase of our 1967 Alfa Romeo Duetto in April of this year, I had very publicly — and not very convincingly — declared that I had stopped buying cars. I was an Alfa boy, and I had acquired the five Alfas I had always wanted that were within my budget. Maturity had finally arrived.
A wag asked about the 1967 Volvo 122S in our garage, and how that fit in with an all-Alfa collection. I explained that that car was “purchased by accident.” Also, since I bought it before my Declaration of Alfapendence, it was grandfathered in.
The Swedish moment
Our having a vintage Volvo is not completely unexpected. I’ve had a variety of Volvos over the years — for reasons that remain unknown even to me. The Volvos include a 544, an 1800ES estate wagon and a 122S that used to belong to a sex therapist in Portland.
After I sold the ES, I put out the word that I wasn’t really looking for a 122S, but if a good one came along…
Soon enough, I got an email from Jim Perry, who races an 1800S and is the retired dean and campus executive officer of the University of Wisconsin-Fox Valley. He had built a 122S for himself, and he said it was in top-notch condition all the way around. What particularly attracted me was that it had been sold new with dealer-installed a/c, which still blew cold.
I bought it, had Perry install a D-type overdrive unit I sourced from Horn, and had the car shipped to Portland from Wisconsin.
It already had Bilsteins and an IPD front bar. I sourced a set of used IPD sport springs at the local Volvo swapmeet, and got a rear bar from Koehler.
I took the car on a summer event organized by the Alfa Romeo Owners of Oregon. The three-day tour covered more than 600 miles, and went from Portland to Pendleton, OR, and back.
I had Bradley in the back seat as navigator, and good friend and Alfa owner Doug Hartman as riding mechanic. Over the three days, the 122S never missed a beat. It was quiet on the road, and the a/c kept us remarkably comfortable — even with 100-degree temperatures outside.
After this positive experience, I decided to indulge in a wine-style “Swedish pairing.” A 122S along with a bull-horn 1800S would make a nice Volvo set.
Falling into the trap
I was ordering some brake parts for the 122S from Mike Dudek, owner of iRoll Motors (www.irollmotors.com) and said the magic and fatal words.
“Mike, I’m not really looking for an 1800, but if you ever come across a black ’64, I could be interested.” Note the “could.” Like all gearheads, I was still in denial that I was seriously in the hunt.
Mike set the hook. “I’ve a got a black ’64 in the shop right now, and I’m looking at it. It’s a two-owner car, has a nice but incorrect red interior, has a sport suspension and rare period black mags.”
You can imagine what happened next. The SCM 1800S, 1964 bull-horn, black with red interior, is now at iRoll Motors in San Martin, CA, just south of San Jose. Mike’s doing a little work to the car, and when it is ready, I’ll fly down and drive it home.
Have I gone back on my word? Why do the images of Richard Nixon proclaiming, “I am not a crook!” go through my head?
As the 1800S is the fifth Volvo I have owned, it’s time for me to admit that I have an affinity for vintage Volvos. I understand what they are — comfortable grand touring cars. Their engines don’t like to be pushed like an aluminum overhead-cam Alfa does, but they have enough power to motor along.
The black 1800S was a rifle shot for me — the exact year, in the exact color combo I was looking for.
Wouldn’t you have pulled the trigger too? ♦