Great White Whale

Every true car enthusiast has their automotive Moby Dick. That ultra rare beast they're always on the lookout for that they simply must own someday. It may not be the best car out there, but something about it calls to you. Some of us have even owned our great white whales at one time or another, hell some people are so obsessed they collect them. But regardless of our situation we all have that one, often rare, often specific car that defies all logic. Yet for some reason, we must have it.

This is mine.

1988-1989 Toyota Celica All-Trac.

As I hinted at earlier, I've actually owned a Celica All-Trac, which greatly contributes to my lust for this vehicle. In fact, it was my first car. As a result, I've got many amazing memories of my 1988 Celica All-trac. At the same time, the car suffered greatly at my hands, as any first vehicle does (should?) It was eventually sold shortly before I left the country for a year.

But my love of all-tracs goes deeper than simply wanting to re-aquire my first car. I love what the car represents historically. I love it's place in the automotive mosiac of the past century. It represents the height of 80's technology. It represents homologation rules that have given us many of the best streetcars to ever be built. It represents a time when Japan could do no wrong. And it represents the greatest form of motorsport ever created.

At the same time it was both a harbinger of the future and a spectacular sales flop. It was a WRX long before the U.S. knew it wanted a WRX.

With only about 1500 ever imported to the U.S. it is a rare beast. Whenever I see one it brightens my day. But I know, like a serial killer, that fantasy eventually won't be enough. I've gotta have one. It's my great white whale.