––What was the first trip you took in this car?

Clinch: I drove, in the time-honored tradition of young men everywhere, to see my girlfriend in New Jersey. This was maybe a six-hour drive from my parents' place in upstate New York, and I wasn't entirely confident that the Vega was up to the rigors of the trip. I remember now (I have kept this a secret from everyone on earth, often even myself, until this very moment), that somewhere along the Northeastern Extension of the Pennsylvania Turnpike I pulled over and opened the hood so as to let the engine cool off. A state trooper, recognizing the universal symbol for engine overheating, stopped to check on me, and I told him that I was merely airing out that mighty 70-horse engine. Just in case. As Bugs Bunny would have it, "What a maroon." The trooper kindly refrained from shaking his head before getting back into his patrol car and zooming off.

Siegel: I took it on a camping trip, of all things, with a bunch of college friends. I didn’t have a tent so I planned to sleep in the car—the front seat was as big as a couch; I could completely stretch out on it, and a friend of mine took the back seat. But during the night I kept rolling into the horn, which was unbelievably loud, the brass section of some kind of gigantic dream orchestra. No one slept too well, even the squirrels. But I wouldn’t leave the car. I had latched onto the idea of sleeping in it as some kind of self-conscious gesture of cool.

Strauss: Since we were in the middle of nowhere, going to the mall was considered a road trip. Though after college, we'd take long weekends and drive up to the Hamptons, the Berkshires, Vermont and Woodstock.

Wilsey: I drove it on the autobahn. Eventually I took it up to the maximum speed of 140 mph and tried to set the cruise control. (Not possible.) At that speed you could actually watch the gas gauge tick to the left..