Daihatsu!

For many years my stepfather has owned a 1992 Daihatsu Rocky SE. The SE stands for suicide engine. The Rocky is roundly considered to be the unsafest vehicle on the road.

I don’t know where Daihatsu is headquartered, but whatever Asian country houses these terrorist engineering mavericks is having a good laugh at the expense of all the other countries foolish enough to import their vehicles. Translated to English, Daihatsu means ‘suspension and accurate steering are for girls. And we drown our girls in the river.’

If the Rocky was a Transformer, its name would be DeathTrap (as it is often named anyway). Its two forms would be a precariously balanced 4-wheel-drive and a dirty pile of scrap. The pile of scrap would actually be the more useful of the two forms. At least then the other transformers could chuck it at enemy robots.

The Daihatsu Rocky draws inspiration from Rocky Balboa, the Sylvester Stallone character you may remember from such films as Rocky, Rocky 2, Rocky 3 and Rocky 4. I could go on... but won’t. You know how in the beginning Rocky is an out-of-shape nobody who trains hard and ends up a champion? The Rocky is kind of like that, but only the out-of-shape bit.

Pictured here: what people don't do when they realise the full capability of their Daihatsu Rocky.

In a way, the Rocky is the manliest car in existence. It takes every corner like it’s being driven by Jason Bourne and he’s late for work. On a completely straight, completely flat road it bounces around  as though the San Andreas fault line has a personal vendetta against it. The simple act of accelerating – or any kind of incline – will cause the Rocky to bellow like a wounded bison. These features combine in a wonderfully retarded way to make the Rocky seem more than the sum of its parts. I was filled with an almost irrepressible desire to scream “Yeeeeee-ha!” as I drove it. The psychological toll of driving The DeathTrap was staggering; it was almost as though I had lost the will to live. I certainly lost the will to drive safely. My wife will tell you that after a week of driving the Rocky I began to think of myself as something of a stunt driver. My driving conscience had devolved to the point where I treated other vehicles as nothing more than obstacles to my long-distance reversing. I have heard it said that you should avoid getting your ultimate car too soon in life, because then you have nothing left to look forward to. The Rocky works in a similar way. You should never drive the Rocky until you’re absolutely ready to give up the misconception that road safety is anything more than a tragic oxymoron.

Another thing the Rocky doesn't care about: No Parking signs

Despite all this, my stepfather steadfastly refuses to sell the Rocky. He also refuses to clean it, which may actually play in my favour. Because one day it will have enough dust and crap on it to make a better bonfire than vehicle. And on that day I will be there with marshmallows. 

The End