Ever wondered how to snag a Cadillac racing car without draining your savings? Yeah, me too. So I rolled up my sleeves and went hunting. Here’s exactly what went down.
The Wild Goose Chase Begins
First, I hit up regular dealerships. Big mistake. Walked in, all hopeful, asking about V-Series or track-ready models. The sales dude just blinked. “We don’t carry those here,” he said, pointing at a family SUV like it was candy. Total dead end.
Digging Deeper Like a Madman
Pivoted fast. Started pounding the keyboard: forums, auction boards, obscure racing groups. Scrolled till my eyes burned. Found a hot tip: niche resellers who specialize in ex-track beasts. But how to tell legit ones from scammers? Red flags:
- No service history paperwork? Run.
- Seller avoids calls? Ghost ’em.
- Price seems unreal? Spoiler: It is.
When Luck Grabbed Me By the Collar
Almost gave up. Then, at some random car meet, I bumped into a mechanic with grease up to his elbows. We’re chatting over burnt coffee, and he drops gold: “Know a guy unloading his race-prepped CTS-V after the season.” Got digits. Called fast, heart pounding like a drum.
The Nail-Biting Haggle Tango
Drove 200 miles next weekend. Saw the car parked rough in a dusty garage – scratched but snarling. Started poking around:
- Checked frame rails for cracks (ran hands under like a surgeon).
- Demanded cold start (he grumbled but obliged).
- Stared down tire wear patterns.
He wanted $65K. I choked. Pulled up comparable sales on my phone, griped about refurb costs. Two hours of back-and-forth – me sweating, him sighing – settled at $52K cash. Shook on it, still not believing it.
The Aftermath: Grins & Groans
Had it trailered home (no way I was risking that engine). Spent weeks:
- Flushing fluids (old oil looked like tar).
- Replacing stripped bolts.
- Swearing at stubborn brake lines.
Total damage? Time and $8K in parts. Now it growls in my garage. Wife thinks I’m nuts. But sitting in that bucket seat? Zero regrets. Hunt right, and treasure hides in the weirdest corners.
