1995 saab 9000 aerO (TUned)
OWned sinCe Mileage sinCe lasT repOrT TOTal Mileage laTesT COsTs
SOctober 2015 1000 miles 174,912 £366 (MoT, electrics, tyres)
ince September, it feels like I have spent less time with my Saab than Donald Trump has with common decency. And it has punished me for this error relentlessly. Getting it through an MoT proved more difficult than staying awake during the Cricket World Cup and after the certificate was handed across the problems didn’t stop.
First, there was the exhaust system falling apart followed by several electrical gremlins, with a side order of automatic choke and idling issues. Oh, and to cap it all the brakes decided to go on strike, all of a sudden too.
However, now these niggles have been dealt with, the miles have been dispatched in spectacular fashion. Despite having sat in the family farmyard for seven months, more than 1000 miles have been covered by the Saab without really trying since I retrieved it from Scotland. The urge to take the 340bhp beast out for a drive after work has been too much to ignore and several poor souls have come along for the ride.
First, there is Pam Webster, one of the office managers at work, who clambered into the jump seat for a lunchtime ‘spin’ and still hasn’t quite recovered. Then there was my ever suffering housemate Liam who braved the backroads of Oakham for several night runs to test the handling. After several cattle grids appeared without warning he now has an appointment with a chiropractor to realign his back. The suspension offers little in the way of movement.
However, the victim suffering most is CCW contributor Richard Gunn’s partner, Dianne to whom I give a lift to work. Every morning and evening she utters a few Hail Marys before we set off up the A1.
It’s not that the Saab is dangerous or held together by hope – as the Mini currently is – it’s just that the power delivery is savage, pushing you back into the great leather seats so violently that you risk a nose bleed. The best part, however, is that the exterior offers no clues to the steroid-laden lump lurking underneath the sloping bonnet. The paintwork is porridge-like and the exhaust rattles, leading to general bewilderment as I power away on a shunt of raw adrenaline. There is a particular souped-up BMW that enjoys terrorising the A1 around the same time that I commute into the office – cutting up other drivers. However, after sitting on my bumper for several Office manager Pam enjoys a soothing trip to the shops. Interestingly, Calum’s expenses provoke a similar reaction. minutes, I caught one glance of his shocked expression in the rear view mirror as the Saab left him for dust, firmly putting him in his place. The A1 is already a better experience, if not necessarily a safer one. Saab produced one hell of a car with the 9000, but Abbotsport definitely made it better.