They sit in the driveway, looking forlorn, covered in snow. The days of getting an occasional wash and wax long gone. There are more than hints of rust now with a hole here and there. Some have that color scheme where the fender or hood is a different color than the rest of the car. Purchased for no more than $1000, no one really cares what brand they are. In some cases you can't even tell as all the emblems and badges have fallen off. They have a vague shape that seems recognizable. There are no wheel covers or fancy alloy wheels, just plain steels with a set of mismatched winter tires. Despite the appearance, they'll start every time, albeit with a bit of grinding and a few puffs of oil smoke, but they will start. They are the ugly ducklings of the automotive world. They are the “winter beater.” The winter beater is a fairly common addition to the automotive “collection” for those of us who live in a truly northern climate, if one cares to actually admit to them and include them on the list. Now I'm not talking about having a “runabout” car in some place where you get the odd snow storm with a total accumulation of five inches. I'm talking about those places where if you don't get snow on a particular day, you think spring is coming. It's these places where the snow starts in November and it still exists somewhere at the bottom of the seven foot-high piles beside your driveway at the start of April. We are talking about places where it stays cold all winter. No February thaw. So cold that there is no possible way to wash off the salt and sand used to provide at least some semblance of a drivable road surface. That same salt and sand that would take the paint right off the nose of that new C-Class if you would dare to take your pride-and-joy out of its winter slumber. And the whole reason that the winter beater exists. The winter beater obviously caught on because it's a reliable but cheap alternative to having the car of your dreams dissolve into a pile of iron oxide after only three years. Of no particular preferred marque, the winter beater invariably is of exceptional reliability, despite appearances. Costing no more than a decent spring detail on your “real car”, it receives only the bare minimum of maintenance; but never fails to deliver the driver to their destination through the worst snow storm in 50 years. And amazingly, these cars never seem to be found stranded in a ditch where their mismatched set of worn snow tires would seemingly place them. They just go and go, regardless of the treatment they receive. It seems it is their last hooray before they are hauled off to the junk yard or placed permanently in the weeds of the Back Forty. Perhaps they feel that if they put in this last heroic effort, they will be saved from the scrap heap graveyard. 
I will only admit to one winter beater. It was a '73 Audi 80. A perfect example of Audi's design philosophy of weight being the enemy. Made of cardboard with wiring made of a single strand of some kind of mysterious conducting material, it was a disaster when I attempted to use it as a reliable second fun car. As soon as it was given the task of winter beater, it became a thing made of dull red armor, impervious to any abuses thrown at it by road or season. One oil change a year and the cheapest set of used winter tires I could find was the extent of the attention it received. In the off season it would reside, completely forgotten, in the weeds behind my barn. Yet every fall with a good charge on a battery of unknown age, it would fire right up and continue to do so until put away the next spring. Its only fault was a slight tendency to build up carb ice on the three rare days of above freezing temperatures, in March. The car would still run, but wouldn't pull any load. So, off would come the air cleaner cover to reveal a hunk of ice nearly closing up the carb throat. But it would still run.
Now that spring has arrived, celebrate the winter beater and if you care to admit to it, what was, or is, your favorite winter beater?
About the Author: Uilleam Ross
Uilleam (Bill) Ross is a 60 year-old retired 30-year veteran of the IT industry and a 45-year car guy. Living in Western Head, Nova Scotia, he now indulges his passions for landscape photography and cars, principally Volvos and Land Rovers.
