Hey, Duane here! I became a Supra fan over the five years owning my first Toyota, a red 1982 Supra. Then the next generation sleeker 1987 Toyota Supra was introduced, and my red one seemed dated in comparison.
Pearl White Supra
The new 1987 Supra featured the turbocharged 230-hp 3.0L DOHC inline-6 with four valves per cylinder. Horsepower jumped significantly from 1982, a welcomed power increase, and I wanted one. Strongly motivated by a friend, I traded my five-year-old red Supra on a new pearl-white 1987 turbocharged Supra with 5-speed manual transmission, attractive blue cloth interior, and removable Targa roof panel. Removing the roof panel created a convertible-like experience, and it stored conveniently in the trunk.
This 1987 Supra had much of the practicality of my previous one, fold-down rear seats and usable hatchback, but it was much more of a sports car with more power and the open air feel from the Targa roof. When cold weather arrived, the traction limitations of the performance tires necessitated the purchase of snow tires for the winter months. Once mounted, the new Supra was reasonably suited for snow.
Both my 1987 Toyota Supra and 1969 Hurst/Olds were garaged together at my first house. The Hurst/Olds, offering old-school muscle, was still in great condition. The garage wasn’t heated, but the cars were protected from the elements, so I thought. Overhead was a useful storage platform featuring a ledge upon which I mounted an antique metal sign. Sadly, a couple of years later, I walked out to the garage to find that metal sign laying on the hood of the Supra. The impact creased the hood slightly. It was repairable, but I was dismayed. There would be no more signs mounted in that garage!
Driving the Supra while following a friend home late one evening on damp roads, I thought my driving was fine until I turned left on a green light. There was no traffic and exactly how it happened remained unclear, but the rear tires broke loose exiting the turn. I overcorrected and headed into a shallow ditch several feet from the road. The ground was soft and mud flew everywhere, but I kept driving and returned to the road. I didn’t hit anything, not even a road sign, but I had to turn on the windshield wipers to see the road. That white Supra was covered in mud.
The next morning, I hosed it down, topside, underside, and inside the wheel wells. Mud from the car washed onto the driveway and eventually filtered through the gravel surface. I thoroughly hand washed the car twice that morning, but that poor Supra continued to spit mud for weeks. Fortunately, the only damage was some fine paint scratches from small stones in the mud, most of which polished out. My ownership spanned eight years, and the Supra repeatedly proved itself as a fun semi-practical sports car.
In four weeks meet its replacement, a twin-turbo Supra. Meanwhile, next Sunday experience my westward saga in a stolen Corvette. Thanks, and always drive with allure!