Gorillas in the parlour, spyders in the mist. They seem confused, much like anyone who thinks that convertibles are a good idea. I’m entitled to my opinion as much as confused car owners are entitled to theirs, and the aim of this bit is to clearly illustrate where I stand on the matter. Which is probably fairly apparent already, but there’s more, so let’s head on down the road, shall we?
Cruisin’ down the street in my ‘64… rag to be exact, bitches by my side, and bitches in the back, their hair whipping about in the wind like a death-metaller on meth. Top dropped as we roll, requiring that, in order to be heard at all, one must scream at full volume. Now everybody within a two-block vicinity knows who sells the best weed around and where they live. And any other semi-private details we’ve all been shouting at each other.
Geez, it looks like it’s about to rain. Better hope the technician actually fixed whatever mechanism keeps failing to retract the roof. You’d think three grand would be enough to have remedied the issue. Nope! Quickly find somewhere covered to park before the interior suffers serious water damage, again.
Spyder in the Mist
The joys of owning cars without permanent roofs are… limited, in my opinion. I personally don’t understand the draw whatsoever. In any way.
If I want to go motoring while sitting outside, I’ll climb aboard a motorcycle. At least there’s the option of jumping free of it during a crash. Which occurs often whenever I ride motorbikes, as I prefer the off-road kind. Trying to exit a crashing automobile, on the other hand, is not generally recommended, and rarely even possible.
The thought of being strapped into a roofless, three-tonne coffin as it leaves the road, probably due to excessive speed, appeals to me about as much as driving nails through my own kneecaps. Though the kneecap option likely has a more favourable long-term outcome.
Although the structural integrity of a complete automobile is a compelling enough argument against spyders of all types, it is by no means the only one.
The unreliability of removable or retractable roofs is certainly something else to avoid. All of them leak in time, and all of them eventually break as well. And the fact that any lowlife with a knife can gain access to the interior of any rag-top, even if only long enough to grab whatever is immediately at hand before running off, is definitely a strike against having a tent for a topper. And now the tent has a huge cut in it and needs expensive repairs. Ouch!
I’ll not likely sing any praises of the removable roof, but some models do seem more sensible, and even sexy, than others. Take the Porsche 918 Spyder as an example, or any other modern Porsche convertible for that matter. Ferraris, Paganis, McLarens and many more of the detachable hardtop variety come to mind, cars where the section removed is more like a narrow band than the entire upper structure of the vehicle. It feels like you’re still inside of a car rather than sitting on top of an overpowered death sledge. There’s a good chance of avoiding decapitation in the event of a rollover.
Still, I’ll opt for a Berlinetta over any Spyder any day. No question.
As far as I can tell, the reason people buy spyders is to show everyone around that they have a convertible. They’re crap, and when balancing logic against ego or nostalgia, (or some other purely emotional reason to suffer a spyder), logic undoubtedly takes a severe thrashing.
That being said, I fully comprehend what it means to throw all vestiges of logic to the four winds and make silly choices based on emotion. I do salute roadster enthusiasts and other aficionados of the open-air automobile. I get the fact that, especially where sporty cars are concerned, sensibility rarely factors into the decision making process. I wish you no ill will. In fact, I wish you all the best, and may you return safely home from your windy, noisy, possibly cold and soggy journeys for years to come. Just don’t ever expect me to cross the tracks and join your silly club.