Harmony in the final stage - memories of a student cart
12/02/2022
It had to be a Citroën AX. Not because my grandmother once drove one, but mainly because it was just standing around in the neighboring town: a special model called "Harmonie" in the elegant metallic shade of Burmese blue for a student-friendly 250 euros. Second-hand, without MOT and with 100,000 kilometers. A set of winter tires was included - without rims.
The B-pillar base was already suspiciously rusty on both sides, the top of the engine was suspiciously oily and the tailgate could only be opened using a home-made cable pull with a wine cork at the end. All four wheels were different colors, the drive shafts knocked eagerly in every bend and the fitting accuracy of the replaced exhaust center pipe was so poor that it could actually have been omitted.
Nevertheless, the AX somehow made it through the MOT and back onto the road without any bribes - which it never left unintentionally despite its youthful recklessness behind the wheel. Although with the combination of 45 hp, 135 tires and a kerb weight of less than 700 kilograms, it was always at the limits of what was physically possible on German country roads, even at completely legal speeds. The AX flew through bends with the ease of a Lotus Elise and the lateral inclination of a poplar tree at hurricane force ten. It roared like an old rally Escort. What a wonderful little piece of crap!
It was just a little afraid of water. After an impromptu rallycross interlude with splashing mud puddles and wheel hub-deep river crossings somewhere in the Rhineland, the battered TU engine first gave full throttle by itself for a while, then died and could no longer be started. Apparently, moisture and control units don't get along so well. But as soon as a Polo hatchback, a helper and a tow rope were organized, the four-cylinder started up as if nothing had happened.
However, the Citroën was probably a little resentful. Because from then on, the game was repeated after every visit to the car wash. Taking the freshly washed car straight back into the dirt of the road? That's only for the hectic! The AX initially wanted to ensure inner harmony for itself and its owner. And that's why it always took its time to dry off and generously gave me the opportunity to eat a vending machine coffee and a baked croissant at the service station.
Then, freshly rested, he would happily roar off again and bring me a little closer to the next unscheduled adventure. It was always economical and remarkably comfortable. Even the most leaden foot never drove its thirst above seven liters of super per 100 kilometers. The seats with their velour-like fabric upholstery are still some of the best I've ever had the pleasure of sitting on. And the four-speed gearbox clacked through the scenery as precisely as that of a Corvette Sting Ray - something I didn't know at the time, of course.
Of course, not everything about a 19-year-old French compact car was perfect. The CD in the radio always jumped a little when there were heavy bumps. The inter-wiper relay clicked as loudly as the blinker relay. And above 130 km/h, it always started to smell a little charred from the ventilation. But the AX did everything that involved little contact with water without complaint. It helped with warehouse clearances, towed fridges and once even pulled two stuck SUVs out of a muddy meadow.
I wonder what the local Maserati dealer thought of me driving his license plate frames around. He probably didn't even notice. And if he had, he would probably have been jealous. Because no Maserati would have survived that kind of treatment. But even the AX had to die in the end. Not a spectacular racing driver's death upside down in a potato field and not a loud cylinder blast on the A6 at a mercilessly excessive 160 km/h. After two years, its rust blisters simply lost the duel against the TÜV inspector's random screwdriver tests.
My AX has been a compressed cube for five years now. And even though I've moved up the automotive ladder in the meantime and now have a comfortable six-cylinder - sometimes I long for a little harmony in my life again.
