With this recurring series, the goal is to share real-world ownership experiences from cars in the family fleet. This is a primarily Audi household, and the rotation tends to be fairly regular. The intent is to offer insight into ownership and upkeep, along with driving impressions from living with each car over time.
For this first update, the focus is simply to introduce the current mix of cars. Deeper backstories on each will follow in future installments.
1972 AUDI 100 Coupé S V8 quattro
Chalk it up to a pandemic purchase. When I spotted the Coupé S V8 maybe for sale on a Facebook group during that strange, shut-in period we all endured, I made an impulsive decision. It also helped that I knew Jamie Orr — a close friend with a knack for importing vintage European cars into the U.S.
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Fast-forward a couple of years, and garage space has become a serious challenge. I’d since left my role at quattro Magazine, where I’d planned to feature the car as a major project — one that would ultimately make its way to SEMA.
I’d made a few changes, though far too few. I don’t wrench on cars; I write about them, plan them and create renderings to visualize them. My “improvements” were limited, consisting mainly of period-correct “Coupé S” and “Audi” vinyl decals to replace the tired old badges while giving it a subtle muscle-car vibe. Since Pennsylvania allows vintage tags, I tracked down a Liberty Bell plate stamped “9X8 100” — a math joke, as 9 × 8 = 72, matching my 100 Coupé’s 1972 model year. Add a vintage Vasek Polak Audi plate frame for solid nerd cred, and I’d scratched some small part of the itch.
I’d created renderings of course. Digging into the legends and lore of the Porsche 928 drivetrain mules wearing Coupé S bodywork, I began to build a car from historical fiction. This car was sold new long before Audi Sport existed, at a time when Porsche was running V8 test mules in the desert and racing bonkers Porsche + Audi branded race cars in Can-Am. Vasek Polak arrived their first with his 917 PA Spyder. Penske came later with the Sunoco-branded 917-35.
In as much, Porsche and Can-Am themes were heavy in my head when I imagined where it could go. How would it look in Sunoco Blue or perhaps a Porsche color like Viper Green? Would a 4.6-liter Porsche V8 from Cayenne fit under the hood where the Audi 4.2 now resides… or perhaps a high-revving 4.2 from a B7 RS 4?
I added 917 replica wheels to the images. In Gone in 60 Seconds, the star car Mustang “Eleanor” wears Le Mans-spec Ford GT40 wheels. Why couldn’t a German muscle car like this one run on 917 hardware? That seemed right. You could even name the car after Bernd Rosemeyer’s aviatrix wife “Elly” (Beinhorn) – #ellyaudi.
What I lacked in mechanical skills and restoration progress I seemed to be making up for with endless ideation and renderings.
The truth, though, is that for this car to feel truly sorted, I’d need to address at least the exhaust and fuel system. That would make it easier to enjoy regularly, but it would still be far from finished with just these changes.
The dad in me watching time fly by feels split. On one hand, like most people, my wife and kids think the car is cool as hell. On the other, the rational side — the one that doesn’t do major mechanical restoration and knows there are two daughters with college tuition ahead — looks at it and sees the cost of getting it where I really want it to be and recognizes the signs.
Oddly, I’m also not in love with the green. I know. Everyone else thinks it’s incredible. It’s wild and distinctive, but I’d have preferred something different. Everyone else, however, considers the idea of a color change a crime against the car.
About two years ago, I moved the car to Audi Wilmington, freeing up garage space and with a plan for a major overhaul — the one that would have led to SEMA. Progress was slow, then effectively shelved when I left quattro Magazine at the end of last year.
While I could build the car and document the process here, this site is still young and its audience small. The income isn’t there yet to justify that kind of project — and even if it were, it would have to share the spotlight with the patina ur quattro that’s also part of the fleet.
Maybe I’ll regret that decision, but I’ve found a buyer, and we’re just finalizing details. I expect the car will be gone by my next update. The new owner, based on the West Coast, has the skills — and a brother with the skills — to tackle the restoration himself, plus a shop and lift at his disposal.
That math joke vintage plate and Vasek Polak Audi plate frame will remain, finding a spot on my garage wall.
There’s no doubt this car is one of a kind. So far as I know, there are just two quattro-swapped Coupé S examples in the world. The other, a 5-cylinder turbocharged example, is owned by a friend in Greece. This one is the other, and it’s a V8. Even the last known example of the V8-swapped Porsche 928 test mules burned up in a fire at Hamburg’s Prototyp Museum several years ago, so until any of the other 928 mules surface or some other crazy enthusiast successfully swaps one, this is the only V8.
I’ll miss both it and the possibilities imagined in those renderings, but sometimes you have to be honest with yourself about your capabilities. Otherwise, you risk becoming a hoarder while the car languishes in storage. I wish the new owner the best and can’t wait to see it resurface at West Coast events — finally living the life it deserves.
PHOTO GALLERY
