Four-Door Never Sounded So Sweet
I'd waited a long time to drive the new Quattroporte, or at least it seemed like a long time considering my self-proclaimed Maseratisti status. This, of course, makes me a little biased, a problem that most people would have for people or products that they have a certain affinity with.
For me, it was a regular mid-'70s Saturday with my Dad, having gone downtown to do some inconsequential task we stopped off at the local exotic car emporium to ogle at the latest, greatest cars the world had to offer, or at least the best available in my neck of the woods. There were Jaguars and Porsches, a white Lotus Esprit Turbo on display and I seem to remember a brilliant blue Lamborghini Espada in the corner with a sold sign in the window. But the one that caught my eye was a metallic gray Maserati Mexico, with red leather hides and more wood paneling on the door, dash and centre console than I'd ever seen in the cabin of a car before. I sat inside while my father was caught up in some other interest, breathed in the smell of pigskin, wool carpeting, and high-test gasoline, a mixture modern cars sans carburetors can't emit, and fell in love.
I suppose that's why I just had to have a certain 1967 Maserati Mexico when it went up for auction some twenty years later. Me, fresh out of a marriage and desperately looking for every means of escapism life had to
offer, successfully bid and acquired one of the rarest vehicles to ever grace this particular auctioneer's stand. Not only was it one of about 250 ever made, and that over an eight year model cycle, but my particular version featured the top-line 4.7-litre dual-overhead cam V8, a five-speed manual transmission and real pigskin hides - an expensive option in 1967.
Although I was leasing a relatively new vehicle already, the Mexico became my constant companion that summer. The sound of its refined V8, a unique combination nearly as bullish as a 427 Cobra yet almost as mechanically melodic as a V12 Ferrari, the Maser delivered phenomenal road manners for its era and the safety of four-wheel disc brakes and retro aircraft-style seatbelts. How could I leave it parked in the garage?
I'd waited a long time to drive the new Quattroporte, or at least it seemed like a long time considering my self-proclaimed Maseratisti status. This, of course, makes me a little biased, a problem that most people would have for people or products that they have a certain affinity with.
 |
| I'd waited a long time to drive the new Maserati Quattroporte. (Photo: Ray Watson, Canadian Auto Press) |
I suppose that's why I just had to have a certain 1967 Maserati Mexico when it went up for auction some twenty years later. Me, fresh out of a marriage and desperately looking for every means of escapism life had to
 |
| The Quattroporte looks somewhat out of place on grass, but it's a nice setting for a photo nonetheless. (Photo: Trevor Hofmann, Canadian Auto Press) |
Although I was leasing a relatively new vehicle already, the Mexico became my constant companion that summer. The sound of its refined V8, a unique combination nearly as bullish as a 427 Cobra yet almost as mechanically melodic as a V12 Ferrari, the Maser delivered phenomenal road manners for its era and the safety of four-wheel disc brakes and retro aircraft-style seatbelts. How could I leave it parked in the garage?