Old Cars Were Heavy — But Untamed

A 1960s land yacht weighing 4,200 pounds didn’t feel safe because of weight. It felt safe because it looked massive. Under the hood and under the sheetmetal, there was very little to protect you in a real crash. Tires were bias-ply. Brakes were drums. Steering was vague. Suspension tuning traded precision for that “floaty” feel.

It wasn’t that those cars rode like clouds because they were magical. They rode that way because engineers tuned them to soak up bumps — at the astronomical cost of handling finesse.

Modern cars are heavier for a different set of reasons:

  • Crash structures that absorb energy where people sit
  • High-strength steels and engineered deformable zones
  • Electronics, sensors, and safety systems
  • Better brakes, better tires, better handling

The result is a car that weighs about the same as a big old sedan but stops and steers in ways nothing from 1965 could.

That lack of control didn’t stop people from feeling safe, though. In fact, many still remember those cars fondly. Which makes me wonder: are we remembering the machines accurately—or just the way they made us feel?

We’ve Always Driven Heavy Cars — We Just Didn’t Talk About It

I keep seeing the same argument online: electric cars are too heavy. Yes, people like to complain about range, but that’s another rant.

Right now, I’ve a few thoughts about the weight.

People act like EVs invented vehicle mass. They didn’t. We’ve been driving 4,000-plus-pound cars for seventy years.

A mid-1960s full-size sedan — a Chevy Impala, a Ford Galaxie, a Plymouth Fury — often weighed the same as a modern EV crossover. Heavy bodies, big steel frames, cast-iron V8s. They didn’t need batteries to be massive; that was just how cars were built.

But the thing people seem to forget — or maybe never knew — is this: mass isn’t the problem. Control is the thing.

Of course, weight alone doesn’t tell the whole story. If mass were the real villain, those older cars should have been paragons of safety. They weren’t. Which raises the next question: if weight isn’t the problem, what actually was?

But Electric Cars Don’t Use Gas!

I stop at a gas station with in my EV. Yes, really.

Follow along.

The first time that I’ve ever had to roll up to a gas station in an EV. Interestingly (amusingly? ironically?) the computer in the gas pump that I had selected was out of service.

Eh, there are 12 pumps here, so just I roll around to the next pump.

Wait, it gets funnier.

It took about twelve seconds until some well-educated and fully aware know-it-all screams out over and over and over, “Electric cars don’t use gas! Electric cars don’t use gas! Electric cars don’t use gas! Electric cars don’t use gas!”

No shit? I didn’t know that.

But, let me ask you this: how else am I going to fill my lawn mower, Jackhole?

Should roll it down the sidewalks for two miles, fill its Lilliputian tank with a pint of gas, then roll it back to the house and do that once per week?

watTson

I’m one of those strange people who names cars.

This is the newest named addition to the family and has been many years in planning:

2024 Tesla Model Y, Extended Range, Dual Motor, AWD — with 15 miles on its wee digital clock.

His name is Doctor Wattson. But we are casual folk around these parts, and needn’t use formalities — so just his name will do:

watTson

This is, of course, a very clear and deliberate tip of the old hat-switch to several inspirations — and I’ll leave that as an exercise for the reader to explore.

Not a Fan

I needed to rent a car for a week to ensure I can get to a commitment in Spokane Valley next Wednesday morning. I elected to rent a simple, economy-class car while at home in Spokane to last me a week.

I selected a Hyundai Kona because I’d driven its bigger brother, the Hyundai Santa Fe, last Spring while UPGRAYEDD was in the shop for heavy maintenance.

The Santa Fe was quite nice. Comfortable. Quiet drive. Entirely capable. Therefore, I’d assumed that the Kona wouldn’t be too terribly different than the Santa Fe.

But Enterprise selected instead for me a Ford EcoSport, because it’s “comparable”.

Oh, bother.

I was witnessing the evolution of language and culture before my eyes and ears. This was clearly some strange new use of the word “comparable” with which I was previously unfamiliar.

The Ford EcoSport had difficulty with the most basic of tasks like its handling in a straight line on the Interstate. Its susceptibility to airflow changes from passing vehicles. Its neurotic behavior when taking a deep breath while driving.

God help you if you’ve need for the back seat for actually sitting. It would be unrealistic to expect anyone to fold and contort themselves into the space. Even the Scavenger’s Daughter leaves more room to breathe.

In fairness, this one does have about 39,000 miles on its odometer. A bit of wear in the steering components is to be expected.

I’m also not at all a fan of the UI of the sat-nav, or lack of any logic in its interface. UI and UX are concepts that the designers probably thought were overrated and in no way important to the existence of living beings.

The good news: they did include steering wheel and seat-heat. A pleasant surprise.

Also, it does have power windows and door locks and even an automatic A/C and heating system. No fiddling needed. Just set it and forget it.

If the Ford designers’ goal was to make the occupants want to not be in the car any longer than is absolutely needed to move from one point to another, they’ve succeeded. In fact, I think they’ve well-surpassed that already lofty goal as I don’t want to be in the vehicle at all and even thinking about warming up the Shoe Leather Express to walk to work at 4AM.

The good news is that this is only temporary until Wednesday.

The better news is that the Ford EcoSport was retired from service in 2022.