Renault 10 Reviews - Page 2 of 2

My brother drove the car in the winter w/o antifreeze and the engine had to be rebuilt. I was very young, but I remember watching my dad fix it. He ordered parts from J. C. Whitney that included cylinder sleeves. He had it going again pretty soon and it always ran like a top!

My first car was this '67 R10. Both of my brothers drove it and then it was handed down to me. I loved it and I think it's the main reason I've almost always driven small, foreign cars. It got great gas mileage, was probably one of the most reliable cars I've had, and the seats were the most comfortable things on the planet. The spare tire under the enormous trunk in the front was so cool! You pulled the latch inside the trunk and the front license plate panel under the bumper fell down. The spare was behind it.

I marked the comfort a 9 because I live in Texas and this car didn't have A/C. If you know how much I hate the heat here, you would realize that 9 means more than anyone else's 10.

Speaking of 10's...I would love to have another R10. I got to thinking about mine today and that lead me to an Internet search of them and eventually to this site. I miss that car!

Nothing.

This car is the most comfortable car I have ever driven - bar none. I was in the military when I owned this car and traveled all over Australia with it. A thousand kilometre day was not unusual and it never let me down once.

The fuel tank filler beside the engine was a worry and a lot of garages in Australia at the time would not let you fill up for fear of fire.

The Michelin X tyres would last for ever, but you prayed for no rain.

The boot up front was enormous.

I actually rallied my R10 and had a ton of fun. The trick was to place a bag of cement in the front to cure the under-steer.

Did I love this car? You bet - I am currently trying to find a restorer in Australia for my retirement.

Electrical glitches of every description.

Failed alternator and voltage regulator.

Cracked turn signal housings.

Headlights would turn themselves off at any time, then come back on if I was lucky.

Body rusted at the mere suggestion of moisture.

Leaked oil like an uncapped Iraqi well.

This was my first car, given to me by my wife's uncle. After about the second day, I understood why he wanted to get rid of this little beastie. Even when it was running well, this thing felt like it was being pushed uphill by a couple of little old ladies with arthritic knees. This gutless little Gallic car was barely able to keep up with city traffic, on the highway it was downright scary. NO chance of a speeding ticket with this puppy! The tiny engine - I think it was about 750 or 800 cc's - was mounted in the back and only made 45 or so horsepower on a good day, which wasn't often.

Most of the time, the damned thing wouldn't even start, usually because of an electrical short which killed the battery. I had to disconnect the battery and hook it to a charger every night to have any hope of starting the car the next morning. I rolled it one night while trying to clutch-start it down a hill, and that was that. How lucky can you get?