Opinion: What lockdown taught me about cars and driving

The comprehensive effects of Covid-induced lockdowns on human populations remain largely unmeasured, but has anyone else noticed a drastic shift in their automotive interests over the past year and a bit?

Melbourne’s recent ‘circuit-breaker’ restrictions were a sharp reminder of the dire times in 2020, during which I realised that; in terms of the road-going vehicles I spend 90 per cent of time dreaming of owning, for the first time in my life, I’m not concerned with speed.

That feels like a big thing. Everyone here seems to know me as the ‘JDM guy’, or the ‘track day guy’, but in the midst of strict stay-at-home orders, my need for speed seems to wane like the very tempo of life.

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And it’s not like I was getting my fix elsewhere. Beyond the cars I’m so gracious to turn wheels in professionally, the notion of working for MOTOR wasn’t even on my radar this time last year.

I did, of course, have access to my heavily turbocharged 1990s imported Nissan sitting in the garage, but I think I only drove it once over Melbourne’s exhausting 112-day lockdown last year – simply to top up the petrol tank and make sure the tyres hadn’t gone flat. I needed to re-park at the fuel bowser three times because I had forgotten which side the filler cap was on...

Had my passion for cars diminished? Not so at all. The desire to drive, of course, was there; but with movement limited to ‘essential reasons’ within 5km of home (10km, for this most recent bout), the need certainly wasn’t.

I’m sure many fellow Melburnian car nuts can relate to emphatically volunteering for any ‘essential’ grocery run; any excuse to hop in, fire up the machine, and go for a short drive.

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On those occasions, though, I’d forgo my beloved old Nissan as the slow-to-warm nature of its forged-internal inline-six meant it took longer to reach operating temperature than it did to physically reach Woolies.

Luckily, I had another steel chariot awaiting me: a 1970 Chevrolet C10 pick-up, the old Unique Cars shop truck whose keys were tossed at me as we were all sent home from the office on that fateful day in March.

Now, the small-block Chevy pick-up is possibly the most un-MOTOR car ever. Recirculating ball steering means a third of steering lock was needed before the squarebody so much as thought about changing direction, it would occasionally stall, and – even with a 5.7-litre crate engine under the bonnet – performance was not what you’d call brisk.

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However, that 50-year old workhorse was a bright spot on an otherwise dark year, the perfect lazy companion for lockdown life in slow motion. It really seemed to reframe my automotive enthusiasm, too. I’ve always prided myself on appreciating all aspects of our four-wheeled fascinations, but I’d never yearned to own a properly old car like that before. It taught me to look for different things from a recreational road car which, up until this point in my life, has been all about speed.

Modern cars are faster than ever, but our road laws haven’t moved in line with the progress. So there’s certainly something to owning an older, slower, but perhaps more soulful machine. A booming second-hand car market indicates that many others have come around to this way of thinking, too.

Is there more at play here, though? Many are quick to point to a lack of international travel as the leading factor in a buoyant used car market, and they’re likely right. There was also a large cultural shift, too, as many sought solace in nostalgic things of the past as people rushed to old music, old movies; naturally seeking comfort from an unfamiliar new world in an era gone by.

The spirit of MOTOR is entrenched in the endless pursuit of progress and admiration for the most cutting-edge technology of today – a spiritual celebration of the act of driving. But is there a space in the MOTOR universe for cars like that old Chevy C10? If Covid has taught me anything it’s that perhaps there is joy to be found in slowing down.

Here’s to a very deliberate pause.

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