Love the Beast

Recently, I watched Eric Bana's documentary, Love the Beast.  It chronicles his history with a 1974 Ford Falcon xB Coupe that he acquired as a teenager.  As he grew up, got married and became a movie star, he kept this beloved car with him.  He rebuilt it twice with his friends, and, after his film success, had a professional turn it into an unabashed race car.  Thousands of dollars and thousands of hours were spent in this complete transformation.

The highlight of this history is the Targa Tasmania Rally.  It's a 5 day event of flat-out racing across over a dozen stages.  In 1996, he ran the rally with the car before its transformation.  He finished third in his class, when his goal was to simply finish.  Ten years later, with a totally transformed car, he returned to the Targa Tasmania.  It now sported over 500 horsepower and was aptly called The Beast.  The first three days passed without incident.  Day four, however, turned out differently.  A sharp turn suddenly came up, and Eric and his codriver careened off the road.  Both were uninjured, but The Beast had quite a bit of damage.  The Targa was over for Eric and the Beast.

A month after the rally, Eric got the postmortem.  It was not good.  The Beast would have to be totally rebuilt to be drivable again.  There were so many custom parts that he would essentially be starting the restoration over from scratch again. Crushed by the news, Eric struggled with the decision of what to do with this car that he had possessed since he was a teenager.  He talked with Jeremy Clarkson from Top Gear, Jay Leno, and even Dr. Phil about it.  They were unanimous.  That car has been with him longer than his wife.  Although other things matter far more, they realized that a car that he had kept for over twenty years and brought through three restorations was worth saving.  And they told him to build it again.

The documentary really struck a chord with me.  Five years ago, I saved money on the side for over a year and paid off debt early primarily to afford a 350Z.  On October 31, 2007, I drove away in my brand new 350Z in San Marino Blue.  I had worked for it.  I had dreamed about owning it.  I drive a 350Z in Gran Turismo and Forza Motorsport.  When I moved to Michigan, I got a winter car, just to avoid getting it rusty.  It sits in my garage in the winter, and I wipe snow off a 13 year old car that sits in the cold.

Recently, I began one of my dreams in earnest.  I actually got to compete in my 350Z in real life.  My first five or six events, I was just happy to be pushing my car to its limits.  I was happy to be doing something that other people only dream of doing.  I was happy to learn how 10/10ths is different than 8/10ths.  I felt the butterflies of the rear end sliding, only to catch it gracefully.

By the end of the year, however, I faced a dilemma.  I kept hearing the phrase from experienced autocrossers: "The 350Z is not competitive in your class."  Thanks to an accident in early 2008, I no longer had the original wheels that came with the car.  So I was in the "Street Prepared" class.  And I was beaten regularly by three to four seconds on a 60 second course.  That is no trivial amount.  Better driving would only have reduced my times by a second at most.  The siren call kept whispering, "Sell the Z.  Get something competitive..."

I knew that the Z could do much better within the class, but it would be outshined, so long as it faced cars that weighed significantly less and had more horsepower and torque.  Unfortunately, the 370Z, weighing 200 fewer pounds and 30 more horsepower, stock, is classed exactly the same.  So, the odds are not in the 350Z's favor.  It also faces off against the Mitsubishi Evolution and Subaru STI wunderkids.  If I put race tires on it, it would suddenly be facing a certain Corvette that has repeatedly set the fastest times of the day at autocrosses.  This Corvette likely has 500 horsepower and certainly has gigantic race tires.  It is definitely a beast. Ideally, the Z would top out at 350HP in either class.

Yet, another question lingered in my mind.  "Should I even be contemplating spending $10,000 or more to make a fast car even faster? Shouldn't I be a good husband/Catholic/homeowner/financial planner and save money for things that matter?"  Now, I knew that money would be spent over the course of a number of years, but the expenses of home ownership and the prospects of a family may even make owning a 350Z prohibitively expensive.  I have to have a winter car, and as the sports car slowly transforms into race car, that winter car becomes the "daily driver."  Selling the Z is an even worse prospect, fiscally, unless the other car does double-duty.  Financially, I could sell the Z and the BMW, and get a new sub-compact that has room for babies, and have plenty left over to make it competitive for a stock class.  All 100 HP of it.  But, it would do well in its class.

Yet, I think in the end, Love the Beast provided the answer.  I'd been told "You'd regret selling the Z."  When I saw the pain of loss on Eric's face as he gazed over the wreckage of his beloved Beast, I knew that the Z was MY car.  It may or may not wind up being competitive, but I'll have a blast trying.