Guy ‘Guido’ Allen

THIS MAY come down to my claret intake at the time, but one of my mates actually seemed to be making sense the other day. Any of these clowns making sense is right up there with a TV reality show (they should actually be called lab rat shows, but that’s another story...) star being elected president of the United States, or banks actually being nice to their customers, or pigs flying and running air traffic control, as an unlikely event.

But there it was, one of these nitwits I call friends (they’ve been called worse, with good reason) was blurting out something that resembled a good idea. The gist of it was, “I want to have a play on Road X in NSW, and I reckon this would be the perfect car for it,” as he brandished a classified ad he’d found on his mobile speaking trumpet. Actually, brandishing a mobile is more difficult than it sounds. You can wave a newspaper or magazine with a fair old flourish, but it’s much more difficult with what amounts to an undersized pocket computer. And there’s a risk your fingers will slip and send a grand’s worth of really annoying hardware through the nearest window.

No matter...where were we? Oh yeah, the whole buying one for the road thing. And another thing – the reason I didn’t mention which road exactly is because the fun police in NSW seem to have this theory that they can improve everyone’s state of well-being by reducing the speed limit on any bit of tar that looks like it could be a bit of a hoot for anyone who needs a corner to liven up their existence.

They kind of ruined the Putty Road and now there’s talk that use of the Oxley Highway will henceforth require a small child to walk in front of your velocipede carrying a red flag to warn the other thrillseekers. Despite all that, my old mate was serious.

He wanted to buy a car for a specific road in NSW and, well, he lives in Vic. That seems a fair way to drive to enjoy yourself. No matter, quoth he, I shall load my transport of delight on a trailer and tow it up there. It still seemed like an awful lot of trouble and expense.

However, when you look at the collective lives of these clowns, spending tens of thousands of dollars on a single road made as much sense as anything else. Frankly, they’ve wasted more money on chrome and scotch in the past year.

It does actually raise the question of what an ideal car collection looks like. For a while there I was naive enough to think about half a dozen cars woulld probably pull it up.

They are: a ute (obviously – the thinking man’s sports car), a soft-top, a coupe (and I mean a real two-door, not those fourhole whales makers are trying to pass off as ‘coupes’ at the moment), a big sedan/limo, a Citroen 2CV, a spectacularly unreliable old classic and some one-off muscle car that’s deeply overpowered and looks like an angle grinder with wheels. Oh, and probably a sixties or seventies American wagon for the holidays. Okay, that’s seven. One for each day of the week – you know it makes sense.

Those were the good old days when I just hankered for seven cars. Now, apparently, we need one each for particular roads. Where will it end?

Okay, now it’s your turn: pick a road and the right car for it.

What would it be? Drop us a line at uniquecars@bauertrader.