The oldest thing I have driven was a 1959 VW Microbus. A friend of mine had one in college. The reduction boxes had been removed, and the engine displacement increased (by using assorted bits and pieces from other types of old VWs). The top speed of that bus was mercifully higher than its 50-55 mph terminal velocity might have been. I remember pinning the speedometer at near 70mph. Slow, but considering it is a brick punching its way through the air with only a fraction of my Escort's 88 hp to do the job, I would say it wasn't too bad. Then again, I also remember a Geo Metro whipping past us on the long grade up Mount Shasta in northern California, as we struggled to hit 35-40 mph up the grade. I also remember replacing a valve retainer on the road (using butter to hold it into place as we relaxed the spring into place), and morning coffee spent over adjusting the front drum brakes. The radio was upgraded to a nice Pioneer CD player, and if you turned it all the way up, you could sometimes make out what song was playing over the constant DIN of the VW's hopelessly uneven firing sequence. Funnier yet, there was a chipped tooth in the transmission, that would ever so often work its way around and wedge between the gears. That happened on an on-ramp outside of Redding, CA. The bus pitched sideways, and locked up solid. It came to a screeching halt, and the engine stalled. Rocking the car a little bit and working through the gears somehow dislodged that little nugget. Eventually, that trans met its end just 15 miles outside of Bellingham, WA (home at the time). But, it could have left us stranded in rural California. Funny how you don't worry about much beyond how many chips are left in the bag of Ruffles, and if you've got twenty dollars for beer that night, when you are driving across states in your early twenties.