I Owned Nearly 30 Cars And Motorcycles, Then Sold Off A Chunk Of Them And Have Never Felt Better

Loving cars and getting paid to write about them can be a dangerous mix. There are no guardrails to stop you from amassing a hoard of junk. I mean, hey, you need all these crazy cars, for work! In 2024, I owned somewhere close to 30 vehicles, and thanks to the wise words of an Autopian contributor, I’ve decided to change course. Over less than a year, I’ve sold eight vehicles, gave my wife another, and now I’m canceling my over four-year-long lease at one of my storage plots. Yet, I’m not sad, I feel liberated!

Early last year, wrenching extraordinaire Stephen Walter Gossin and I chatted about fleet sizes. At the time I was sitting on about 26 or so vehicles after having picked up a 2004 Volkswagen Phaeton from a reader. I was never good at keeping track of my exact fleet size, but the number was definitely in the high 20s. During these conversations, Gossin asked about how these cars made me feel. Did I really love those unreliable Volkswagens? Would I feel sad if I didn’t have them? Was keeping them around putting stress and hardship in my life? Were these vehicles serving practical purposes?

To be honest, I never really viewed cars in that light. Sure, I have my all-time favorites and dream cars like my Smarts and the Volkswagen Touareg V10 TDI. But for most of the other cars, I generally bought them because I found them interesting and wanted to try them out. Thing is, I would never get rid of the cars after my trial period was over.

When “Grails” Are Actually Just Cars

At first, I didn’t really apply Gossin’s test to my fleet. The first vehicle I sold in 2024 was my 2005 Volkswagen Touareg VR6. I loved that sport-ute and it was a practical machine, and when I bought it in 2021 it was always supposed to be a heroic beater to tow my Japanese imports home. By 2024, however, the condition of its structure degraded to the point where I no longer trusted it to tow car haulers. It also needed more than twice its value in repairs. So, I got rid of it for a practical reason, expecting to replace it with a more capable Touareg V8 or maybe a diesel cargo van. Instead, I was just happy to get rid of a car, so that never happened.

The first time I really applied Gossin’s test to a vehicle was my “Holy Grail” 2005 Volkswagen Passat TDI wagon. I spent a whole four years looking for a Passat TDI wagon with a bulletproofed engine and a manual swap. Now, I finally had it. But, after talking with Gossin, I sat behind the wheel of that car and really put some thought into it. Did I really love this car? Was it really making me happy? Would I even care if it got bisected by a locomotive tomorrow?

Then I had a shocking realization: I wasn’t nearly into the car as much as I thought I was. To butcher a phrase from BoJack Horseman: “When you look at a car through rose-colored glasses, all the red flags just look like flags.”

When I took the rose-colored lenses that only saw grails away from my eyes, my Passat looked very different. Glasses off, this car was a rustbucket with stupid gear ratios, even dumber blackout window tint, polyurethane engine bushings, an interior that was falling apart, and driving dynamics that weren’t particularly exciting even after a tire upgrade. I then noticed the Passat was actually the last car I’d decide to drive despite its Grail status. It was a moment that left me honestly perplexed. This was the dream! What happened?

My best guess is that I moved on without even realizing it. In the four years it took me to find that car, I drove a little bit of everything from some frankly sweet BMWs to a 700 HP supercharged work truck. Heck, I actually enjoyed driving my Jetta wagon more and loved its more modern interior even better. So, the answer to the questions Gossin gave me were all “no.” I didn’t love the car, it didn’t make me happier, and not having it didn’t seem like a big deal. So, away it went.

This was a turning point. As Gossin theorized, I felt happier to feel more cash in my pocket and less burden on my soul. I didn’t feel sad for getting rid of my grail.

My Own ‘Sign Then Drive’ Event

Still, I wasn’t digging deep enough. Back in the summer, I joined Gossin and a reader in liberating some classic Mopar and a quirky Citroen from a living legend in rural North Carolina. I visited Gossin’s home and learned how he manages his car collection. Gossin has a handful of cars he adores enough to keep under cover from the southern sun. But everything else? He plays with them and repairs them before sending them off to a new home. Gossin doesn’t just keep every car he brings home. That weekend, Gossin told me something along the lines of “Life is too short to drive/own/store/maintain something that doesn’t truly move your soul.”

Upon returning home, I applied Gossin’s logic in earnest and found out that I had a large swath of vehicles that didn’t do it for me anymore. The U-Haul CT13 remains my all-time dream camper, but I didn’t actually like my specific example. I realized that I wasn’t at all interested in restoring a camper. As luck would have it, the guy who lived across the street from my storage lot had been dreaming about my CT13 for over two years. So, I felt it was an improbably great match and sold it to him.

I checked out the U-Haul a couple of days ago and it’s clear the camper is now in far better hands. I’m happy about that. Who knew that I’d be happier seeing someone else enjoy my dream camper?

Then I set my sights on my Volkswagens and BMWs. In 2020, I bought a 2012 Volkswagen Jetta SportWagen TDI while I was on a desperate search for my diesel wagon grail. I’m still not quite sure why I held onto this car for so long. I was never motivated to drive it, but never sold it, either. Then there was the 2010 Volkswagen Jetta SportWagen TDI (the black one below) that I bought in early 2022. This car was the same as the 2012, but had a six-speed manual transmission.

This car was my daily, but then it hit me: I don’t really care about this car, either. Apparently, the fun and joy of this manual diesel wagon wore off a long time ago and I just never noticed. Sure, this car was serving a practical purpose of being the chosen daily, but any car could do that.

I became sort of addicted to this new testing process. I took my Honda Beat, Suzuki Every, Saturn Sky Red Line, Volkswagen Touareg V10 TDI, and every Smart for a spin. I still felt the happy bubbly feeling in those. All of those cars still brought immense joy. Then I drove my VW Phaeton and the smile was wiped clean off my face. A hit-and-run incident turned my expression into a full-on frown.

Meanwhile, the BMW E39 that I bought from the Bishop and gave to my wife was also causing tears. In relatively quick succession, I sold the E39, the Phaeton, and the 2010 Jetta. Heck, the Phaeton and the Jetta sold within 12 hours of each other. Just as the Notorious SWG theorized, I was happier to be rid of those cars than to have them.

On the motorcycle side of things, I got rid of the Genuine Stella scooter that was gathering dust in my warehouse and gave Sheryl my Buell Blast. Like the VWs, it seemed I liked the idea of owning the Blast more than actually riding the thing. At any rate, giving her the bike lifted the burden of insurance, storage, and registration off of my head. I even taught Sheryl how to care for her own bike so I don’t have to do that, either. She’ll probably end up selling the Buell once she hones in her riding skills, but that’s fine.

As of this weekend, I achieved something I never thought was possible. Back in 2020, I rented a 40-foot outdoor storage plot to store my school bus as well as anything else I could fit in the lines. The picture below shows the time right after I moved in:

The owner of the spot had me move my vehicles so he could knock down the old barn, but I was still there. This weekend, I realized that I had no reason to keep the space anymore. I had a car parked there, but it was there just to make sure nobody stole my space. So, I brought the Jetta home, where it’ll hopefully be off to a new home maybe this week or so. Then, I ended my lease on my storage plot.

The picture below was taken as my use for the lot waned as I sold vehicles:

This last photo was taken as the last car was removed, effectively ending an era for me:

More Money, Still A Lot Of Vehicles

I had it for 52 months. At first, it kept a school bus, but then just whatever random crap I wanted to ignore for months on end. Sure, I paid only $4,160 over those 52 months, but it still feels good getting rid of it. I have $80 a month going back into my pockets and now I won’t be able to just buy a random broken car just because I have the room to store it. This might be weird to say, at least to me, but it feels liberating.

So, what are my numbers now? I’m currently sitting at 21 vehicles. That’s seven motorcycles, six Smarts, and eight other vehicles, including the bus. I did buy three vehicles last year. I added the Plymouth Special DeLuxe, the CFMoto Papio SS, and the Smart Fortwo Cabriolet. That means my personal fleet had a net loss of 6 vehicles for 2024. Sheryl’s fleet remained at 2.

I still want to sell other vehicles, but I’m not sure where the final number will land. I do want to buy a cargo van and an Audi A2, but my new storage situation means that cars have to leave before I can do that. I’ve decided I’ll stop selling things whenever I feel “comfortable.” My only real rule at this point is that a car has to be a dream car or serve a practical purpose to stay around. At the very least, getting rid of nearly all of the broken Volkswagens means that my daily driver is a Smart again, which feels a bit more “me.” It also means I now have some freed-up time to work on stuff I actually want to fix, like that Plymouth.

I think through all of this, I just want to say that you shouldn’t be afraid to say goodbye. Also, every once in a while you should ask yourself if a car is still working for you. Who knows, you might learn your interests have changed.