SAAB - interesantni tekstovi / price

[Carlsson]

Kada nesto citate a ostavi neki utisak na Vas,a ima veze sa saab-om,samo sibnite ovde link i tako cemo imati takve stvari na jednom mestu


Odlican tekst i zanimljive slike [link_open=http://www.petrolicious.com/this-is-why-i-drive-fast]KLIK[/link_open]

[AERO]

Super pricica......kad uhvatite vremena uz kaficu,obavezno je procitajte ......[link_open=http://www.ft.com/cms/s/0/3ba64a08-74ea ... z2dqeljBAG]KLIK[/link_open]


...... Rüdiger Hossiep, a psychologist at the ­University of Ruhr in Bochum, concluded this summer that Saab drivers have the highest levels of “psychological involvement” with their cars: more than 10 times the passion of the average Volkswagen driver.

....."mi smo saab frik manijaci"

Evo celog teksta ako link zeza ...

Why the Saab inspires intense feelings

It was January 2 2008. I was in Camden, sitting in my girlfriend’s car, and we were going into town. It was her mother’s car, in fact, an old white Citroën 2CV shaped like a pretty hat with blue stripes ­running down the back. Inside, though, it was like a brittle, creaking fridge. There was a gap in the floor, and when I looked down I could see tarmac blurring under my shoes. We were talking about New Year’s resolutions and I announced I was going to buy a car. I had finally learnt to drive a year earlier, almost bankrupting myself in the process, and didn’t want to let it all go to waste. “What kind of car?” My girlfriend asked. I hadn’t thought about it. I’d never thought about what car I would like to own. “What about a Saab?” she said.

My girlfriend says I looked vacant at this point, as if I didn’t know what a Saab was. But in fact I was in a ­reverie. My grandparents owned Saabs, so when anyone said the word I pictured their old car, which was beige throughout; I would see my grandfather’s gloved hands and smell my grandparents, their spaniels and the ­Somerset life they lived. And I would know that their Saabs are gone. My grandfather, who is 89, had to stop ­driving a few years ago after he crashed his last car into the wall of a neighbour’s house.
So we decided to look out for Saabs – the old, funny-shaped ones that I remembered – but we didn’t have any luck. That was, until we parked. And there it stood, on the other side of the street: a white, boat-like thing, pointing up the hill with its long, sloping back towards us. It was, I later learnt, a Saab 900 from 1992, a car known in Sweden as “The Finland Ferry” for its splendid boot. My girlfriend started taking pictures on her mobile phone. “Look at your Saab!” she kept saying. And then the door of the house behind opened and a man with bright blue eyes was looking down from the steps. His name was John. “Would you like to buy the car?” he asked. My Saab cost £500.

A lot of people have strong feelings for their cars. Even so, I was surprised by my closeness to my Saab. Perhaps it was because I had never owned a car before, perhaps it was because I learnt to drive relatively late, perhaps it was because I broke up with my girlfriend soon after the most romantic purchase of my life and I was determined that it had been a good idea, it really had, and that I had wanted a Saab all along. Who can say? But in the year after I bought it, the car inveigled its way into my life. It was never my car; always The Saab. I drove it for stories. I drove it into the country­side to write. I drove it down to show my grandfather and scratched a piece off the side. I steered it through the pouring rain, my sprung seat automatically warmed, the curved dashboard arranged around me like a cockpit, feeling improbably alive. More than once I drew up especially close to the car in front so I could see the reflection of my Saab – its leaning, Swedish eyes, its friendly, curious brow – in someone else’s paintwork.

Like many Saab drivers, I did not realise the company was in desperate trouble until earlier this year. On February 20, General Motors, which took a 50 per cent stake in Saab in 1990 and bought the company outright in 2000, announced that it was letting the maker go. Before then, I had only been aware of a vague malaise at Saab, hearing the common complaint that new Saabs weren’t Saabs any more, that under GM’s ownership the cars had become increasingly generic, Vauxhalls by another name. Now there were some hard facts: Saab, officially, was for sale, but really it was about finding anybody willing to take on around $1bn in debt. To make matters worse, the company last turned a profit in 1995, hadn’t produced a new model since 1997 and sold just 93,000 cars last year, 30 per cent short of what it needed to break even. In the weeks that followed, Saab entered Swedish bankruptcy protection, known as “reconstruction”, where it remains and Sweden’s fairly new, right-of-centre government declined to bail it out. “The Swedish state is not prepared to own car factories,” said Maud Olofsson, the enterprise minister. “This is not a game of Monopoly.”
Olofsson’s coldness was shocking to Saab owners. The company may never have been a conspicuous financial success, but its cars have always overflowed with feeling. Like Rolex, Apple or Harley-Davidson, there is something mysterious – albeit modest and Scandinavian – about Saab that, over the years, has transcended its marketing and publicity materials and been appropriated by the people who drive the cars.

The very first Saab, produced at the close of the second world war by aircraft manufacturer Svenska Aeroplan Aktiebolaget, on display at the Saab Museum in Trollhättan

The phenomenon has even attracted academic attention. Albert Muniz, an associate professor of marketing at DePaul University in Chicago, has written repeatedly about Saab in his work on “brand communities”. Examining the behaviour of Saab drivers, he has ­discovered hierarchy, also known as “Snaabery”: often defined by owning an original, pre-GM Saab; rituals and moral responsibilities: flashing your lights at other Saab drivers and helping them out of trouble; oppositional loyalties: despising BMWs; and myth-making: notably “How Saab saved my life” stories about crashes in which the cars lay down their lives for their owners. The fixation is apparently international. After studying 1.2 million postings on “Motor Talk”, ­Germany’s ­largest motoring web forum, Rüdiger Hossiep, a psychologist at the ­University of Ruhr in Bochum, concluded this summer that Saab drivers have the highest levels of “psychological involvement” with their cars: more than 10 times the passion of the average Volkswagen driver.

For many Saab enthusiasts, therefore, the past few months have been uneasy, if not rather emotional. The company has certainly been caught up in it. In February, Jan Ake Jonsson, Saab’s chief executive, decided to begin his momentous press conference announcing the split with GM with a soupy Swedish pop song called “Release Me”. “I am a rolling wave without the motion,” goes the song, “A glass of water longing for the ocean. I am an asphalt flower breaking free...”
I started looking differently at my Saab too. I became curious about what was happening in its motherland. I realised I had only the dimmest notions about how it worked or where it sprang from. And what about other Saab owners? I began to wonder what their cars meant to them, and if we shared any of the same feelings. What did they talk about when they talked about their Saabs? What had they fallen in love with, and why?
Such things are not easy to explain. When I asked Hossiep, the ­German psychologist, what lay behind the feelings of Saab drivers for their cars, I almost heard him shake his head down the phone. “It is not objective,” he said. “It is not realistic. Really there are no facts for it.” So I went to my garage to see what they had to say.
. . .
Two Stroke to Turbo is on a small industrial estate near Royston in Hertfordshire. The bodies of old Saabs lie outside, gnawed for their parts, a few resting on each other like strange, metallic jawbones. Micky Struebel has owned the garage since 1988 and he introduced me to the basics of the Saab mystique while my car was being serviced one morning in May.
Struebel took his first Saab apart, piece by piece, on the day he bought it in 1973. “I started on the brakes, then the engine came out,” he said, as if this was a natural thing to do. He explained that Saabs have two main sources of appeal. The first is mechanical. The one thing that people tend to know about Saab is that it was originally an aircraft manufacturer: Svenska ­Aeroplan Aktiebolaget. Founded in 1937 to build planes for the coming war, Saab only turned its attention to cars in 1944 when it was wondering what to do in peacetime. Cars were chosen ahead of boats, ­prefabricated homes and kitchen appliances, and from the first prototype, the “Ur-Saab”, the vehicles were marked by a kind of engineering mania. The Ur-Saab, built in 1946, was one of the first cars to be tested in a wind tunnel, for example, and was as aerodynamic as a modern-day Honda Accord. In the 1950s and 1960s, Saab took to entering its cars in international rallies, often with few modifications and driven by its own engineers. The early popularity of the cars, at least outside Sweden, was built around the extraordinary success of the Saab 96, a small car with a noisy two-stroke engine that routinely outperformed larger, more powerful rivals. In the 1970s, a string of innovations, including the heated seat (1971), climaxed in Saab’s finest moment: the introduction of the turbo-charger in the Saab 99 in 1977, the first time the technology had been used in a production car.
For Saab owners who know how cars work, proof of their engineering prowess is important. Struebel was pleased to tell me that the disc brakes and front-brake callipers in my car came straight from aeroplanes. But I noticed over the following weeks that nearly all Saab drivers, mechanically literate or not, have some cherished thing, a detail of construction that gives them joy: the way the door overlaps at the bottom of the car so your trousers don’t get wet; the little gasps the heating system makes; the night-lit dashboard that makes you feel like a pilot; the pronounced, unapologetic bumpers.
Some of these homilies touched on what Struebel described as the other main quality of Saab – and that is to do with design. If rallying got the cars noticed by the world’s mechanics and serious drivers in the 1960s, then it was their bubbled bodies and uncompromising functionality that made them fashionable among European and American product designers and architects in the 1970s and 1980s. The Saab aesthetic, from the first prototype onwards, was determined by Sixten Sason, a great Swedish industrial designer, who also helped shape the Hasselblad camera and Electrolux kitchen appliances. Although he died young, in 1967, Sason’s work was ­carried on by his apprentice, Björn Envall, who continued as Saab’s head of design until the 1990s. Saabs from those years are the work of subtly alien minds. Everything you would expect to find in a car is there, just not where you would have thought of putting it. This quality of surprise – from colour schemes such as my grand­parents’ beige, to unusual gearboxes – attracted many people for just that reason, and they, in turn, celebrated the cars’ oddity. Saab stories are often celebrations of the absurd, or of non-conformism: of the original 16 men who built the Ur-Saab, people like to say, only two knew how to drive.
. . .
Individuality – a kind of Swedish, unpretentious individuality – therefore lurks in many conversations with Saab owners. Tom Barnicoat, the former chief executive of Endemol, the Big Brother production company, has driven Saabs for 25 years. He ­rhapsodised about one of Saab’s signature eccentricities – the ignition key set in the floor (“It’s so fantastic! It needs no explanation because there is no explanation!”) – before describing Saab as an “anti-brand brand” for ­people who resist easy categorisation.
The commercial drawback of being an “anti-brand brand”, of course, is that many people drive Saabs precisely because other people don’t. ­Originality abhors a crowd. On the plus side, however, the cars can end up being whatever their drivers want them to be, even political statements. Jonathan Powell, Tony Blair’s former chief of staff, is one of Barnicoat’s oldest friends. Powell switched to Saabs in 1994, when he started working for Blair. “It is a suitable car for liberal left people,” he told me. “It’s that kind of car. Not just because it’s Swedish, but because of the sloping back and the history of it.” Do you really mean that? I asked. I had not previously considered the political significance of my car’s sloping back. Powell was adamant. “God, you’d never have a right-wing person driving a Saab. They couldn’t. Could they?”
Powell made me wonder whether it was all a mirage: maybe Saab ­owners just see themselves in their cars. What about people with an even deeper attachment to Saab, those who were more than just enthusiasts? In the UK, that meant talking to Erik Carlsson, an 80-year-old former rally driver often known as “Mr Saab”.

Erik Carlsson, whose success as a rally driver helped make Saab’s name in the 1950s and 1960s. He was referred to as “Carlsson on the roof” because of his propensity for flipping the cars

Carlsson was born opposite the Saab factory in Trollhättan. He became a test driver for the company in 1954 and the first great star of rally driving. It is hard to know where Saab stops and Carlsson begins. In the 1950s and 1960s he toured the world, mainly in a Saab 96, winning races and doing more to raise the car’s profile than anyone else. He met his wife, Pat Moss, the sister of Sir Stirling, at the Swedish Rally when he passed her an apple through the window of her car and she – the world’s leading female rally driver at the time – joined Saab too. In 1988, the company named a special version of its Saab 9000 after Carlsson, and many people think this is the ­finest car it ever built.
Carlsson and Moss retired to England, and he lives in a bungalow near Luton, a great big man in a cardigan. The last thing Carlsson ever looked like was a racing driver. He showed me a book made for his 70th birthday and it was filled with pictures of him in his prime – in Athens, in Monte Carlo, on the African savannah – a huge, smiling greengrocer’s son, crammed into a dinner jacket or a tiny, sporty car. It was all slightly incongruous. A photograph from Mexico in 1969, where Carlsson raced Steve McQueen through the Baja California desert, shows him hunched at the wheel, tearing through the cacti like a man who has taken a mighty wrong turn and is rushing home for his lunch.

That was the point about Carlsson: he embodied effort and self-­deprecation rather than any particular grace. He was the human version of the plucky Saab. “I never thought I was a better driver,” he told me. “But I tried, and tried, and tried.” His real nickname, the one that everybody uses, is “on the roof”, partly because of an Astrid Lindgren children’s character called “Karlsson on the roof” about a mischievous boy who could fly – but mainly because he kept flipping his cars. One of the best-known images of ­Carlsson is from a Swedish soft drink advert in 1962. At the peak of his powers, he sits glumly by the side of the road, a little portly, his famous red Saab lying on its roof in a ditch.
Those were the tales, his old hands turning an imaginary wheel, that Carlsson wanted to tell. “The first really proper rolling I did outside ­Stockholm,” he began. He was happy to talk – his days have been quiet since Pat died last October. But Carlsson could not explain what Saab signified to him. “I couldn’t really tell you what the hell…” he began, then he faltered. I looked at him. He was tapping his heart. “There has been this Saab,” he said. Carlsson’s finger was tucked inside his cardigan. “My Saab. Saab somewhere in here it has been.”
When we said goodbye, I asked Carlsson how he would feel if Saab went under. “I would be very upset,” he replied. “No, in fact, I would think, ‘It can’t be true.’ I would not believe it.” Carlsson was the first person I met who talked about the company like that. Other drivers had been curious, but not upset, about Saab’s financial troubles; it was somehow separate to the cars. But Carlsson’s voice was the voice of ­Trollhättan, home to Saab since the beginning, where the population marched under torchlight to show their need and love for the company back in February, and where Saab is not just a significant accessory but a defining force in people’s lives.
. . .

I arrived in Trollhättan the day after General Motors declared bankruptcy. It was evening and I made my way to the town’s locks, whose construction in the early 19th century allowed ships to pass for the first time from Sweden’s west coast to its largest lake, Vänern. The locks, and the building of a hydroelectric power station in 1910 on the Göta River, made Trollhättan an early centre of Swedish industry, a prosperous town of saw blades, turbines and locomotives. Those factories are gone, though, and down by the river people were jogging.
In the 1990s recession, unemployment in Trollhättan reached 19 per cent. These days it is 9 per cent and rising, and Saab, along with the local government, is the largest employer. Around 4,000 people work in the grey and blue Saab plant that covers the northern end of town, about half of whom live in the municipality. More than 10,000 jobs, as well as the local technical college, depend on the company.
“The Saab is Trollhättan and Trollhättan is the Saab,” said Peter ­Jonsson, the town’s Social Democrat MP – Trollhättan has been Social Democrat since 1916 – when we met the next day in his constituency office on the high street. I asked Jonsson to describe the mood in Trollhättan and he said: “Nervous.” That week, the town was alive with rumours about ­possible buyers touring the plant, including Koenigsegg, the ­Swedish supercar maker that emerged as Saab’s new owner a few weeks later. But people did not seem to be able to picture what the future for Saab might look like, still less, a world without Saabs. That’s because they are everywhere in Trollhättan. The roundabouts are like queasy Saab dreams. The oddity rules the roads.
Here, Saab meant something very different. Rather than being quirks – badges of unorthodoxy – the cars are the town’s common endeavour. I noticed in Trollhättan that people talk about “The Saab”, as in “The Saab will survive” – as if it was some kind of wounded, local god.
But I had also come to Trollhättan to see if I could find the essence of Saab, the particular thought in the mind of the cars’ creator that had made them connect so deeply with people. I hoped that Björn Envall, the one-time apprentice of the great Sixten Sason, and the man who designed my car, might be the one who could explain everything. Envall’s name had come up early in my reporting. As Saab’s chief designer from 1969 to 1994, he was responsible for what most people consider the apogee of Saab: the classic Saab 900, the company’s bestselling car. But when I heard about Envall, it was just as much about the man as his work: how he turns up at the Saab Museum and gives out free drawings; how he was the maverick forced out by GM, an early, symbolic casualty of the eventual takeover.

Björn Envall, Saab’s chief designer from 1969 to 1994, pictured under the bonnet of a customised Saab 92, at his home in Vänersborg

Envall lives in Vänersborg, about 20 minutes north of Trollhättan, in a red and white house set back from the road. I arrived on an afternoon of spitting rain. He is 67 and mostly bald. When he opened the door he was wearing a lumberjack shirt, baggy ­trousers and socks. “Now you are here,” he said. “You can relax.”
I could recount some of the stories that Envall told about Saab over the following three hours – about the first head-rest, known as “the elephant’s condom”; about how the heated seat was invented for a colleague who had trouble peeing in winter; about the most luxurious Saab he ever designed and how it was bought by a farmer to carry around dead pigs – but it wouldn’t really convey what the conversation was like. It’s not that Envall didn’t talk much about Saab, or that he wasn’t happy to. It’s that Saab turned out to be just a jumping off point for all the other things that Envall wanted to talk about: Winston Churchill, Charles Darwin, Scandinavian cheese, Tokyo, North Korea, glass-blowing, Roosevelt, you name it. Envall’s anecdotes, jokes and fixations flew around the central question of Saab like butterflies that would momentarily alight.

As time went on, and Envall talked, I began to realise that, beyond a certain level of satisfaction and polite curiosity, he was not really interested in what I or other drivers thought about the cars he had designed. He was scathing about focus groups – “it came to be a fashion to ask people about what you should be” – and when I asked Envall if he had ever tried to design a car for a particular kind of person, or to give them a particular thing, he shook his head. “Neh. I just do it by heart or something, greed.” He tried out the word. “Greed,” he said again, and grunted happily. “To see that I can do something which fits me.”
At times Envall seemed as baffled as anybody that Saab had such a devoted following. “The bloody Saab has been surviving in all these strange circumstances, ups and downs, many bosses, many directions. It’s strange, isn’t it? There must be something to it,” he mused. Then he said: “I think that people still want to be surprised.”
And that turned out to be Envall’s favourite subject: the times when he was surprised. There was the occasion in Krakow when he came across an enormous, perfect sculpture of a tree; or when he stumbled across the graduation show at the Royal Academy in 1982 and saw David Mach’s ­“Silver Cloud III” – a Rolls-Royce made out of books; or the day he came back from his military service in the 1960s and discovered that Sixten Sason had redesigned the front of the Saab 96. “Being up in Lapland with the army, and then I saw all of a sudden, I saw the future. It was absolute!” He described his joy at learning the oddest things. A few years ago, for instance, Envall found out that France was developing an unmanned aeroplane. “That excited me, you know, because I was wrong-thinking,” he said. “Do you know what I mean? This parallel, the unthinkable… That is what I like, the feeling of not knowing.”
Envall said that this was what he tried to put in his cars. “You take care of the surprise and try to mould it,” he said. And it is also the reason why for him, of all people, Saabs do not hold that mystery, that unlikely affinity. Apart from knowing all the secrets they contain, being the maker of surprises meant Envall spent his time, and still spends it, looking for inspiration in other places, anywhere but Saab. In fact, when Envall spoke about the cars he had designed, it was with more than modesty, it was with a sense of never quite realising the ideas he had had in mind. He still drives a black Saab 9000 Aero – the one marketed under Erik Carlsson’s name – but his pride in it was tinged with regret. “I just happen to think it is one of the best cars we ever did,” he said. “And the rest is compromise.”
But Envall is not finished. He found it hard to conceal his excitement about what was happening to Saab this year. “I believe in chaos I must say. Don’t you think chaos is good sometimes?” He was still freelancing for the company as recently as 18 months ago and as we spoke, he started dropping hints that he had a new design that he wanted to show me. “I show you a facelift, which no one has seen,” he said. “It is full size, in my garage, of the coming Saab.” Then Envall led me out in the drizzling afternoon and pulled open the door of his garage. Ahead of my visit, he had unscrewed the front grille of his ancient Saab 92 and replaced it with a set of cardboard teeth. I had no idea what to say. “The Troll­hättan troll bites back,” said Envall, delighted. “You didn’t expect that, did you?”


Sam Knight is a regular contributor to the FT Weekend Magazine

[Astrotrain]

odlična ideja!

a još bolja informacija :D

i m in love with my car :D

[AERO]

Road to greatness

1936

Sweden decides to strengthen its airforce and build a domestic aerospace industry. Svenska Aeroplan Aktiebolaget, or Saab, is founded the following year.

1944

Saab puts aside 200,000 Swedish krona (£12,000) for “Project 92”, its first car prototype. The resulting model, 92.001, or “Ur-Saab”, is tested in summer 1946.

1950

The Saab 92, Saab’s first production car, goes on sale. Nicknamed “The Toad” and “The Sliced Pear”, 35,000 orders are placed for 1,246 cars.

1958

Saab makes 12,000 cars. The US emerges as its main export market. A survey reveals that the cars appeal to “highly educated members of the liberal professions”.

1960

The Saab 96 is introduced. Sales rise 44 per cent in Sweden in a single year and the car proves an instant success on the rallying circuit. Erik Carlsson wins the Monte Carlo rally twice in a Saab 96; his victories are celebrated on a Swedish stamp. Saab makes the 96 until 1980.

1968

Saab merges with the truck and bus manufacturer Scania-Vabis. Both are controlled by the Wallenberg group of companies.

1971

The Saab 99, Saab’s second all-new car, now features innovations including headlight wipers, an electrically heated driver’s seat, self-repairing bumpers and side-impact door beams. In 1977 the Saab 99 becomes the first production car to have a turbo-charged engine.

1978

The Saab 900, Saab’s bestselling car of all time, goes on sale. Based on the floorplan of the Saab 99, it features a distinctive, long nose and becomes popular around the world in the 1980s and 1990s. Seinfeld drives one.

1990

GM takes a 50 per cent stake in the automobile division of Saab-Scania, which is re-organised as Saab Automobile AB. Despite the success of the 900, the new company loses $848m that year.

1993

The first “GM Saab” is launched – the next generation of the Saab 900 – and has teething troubles. But production efficiency increases dramatically under GM and Saab turns a profit. Sells 70,000 cars.

1997

The all-new 9-5 is unveiledat the Frankfurt motor show. The 9-3, a successor to the 900, is introduced the following year, and they are still the only models sold by Saab.

2000

GM takes full control of Saab. Sales rise over the following years to a record of 135,000 cars in 2006, but updated models are greeted with muted enthusiasm as they increasingly resemble other GM cars. Sales fall to 93,000 cars in 2008.

2009

February 20, GM announces that Saab will be sold off as an independent carmaker. The company enters Swedish bankruptcy protection with debts of $1bn. Hopes rest on three new models, including the all-new 9-5, which will be introduced over the next 18 months.

2009

June 15, GM announces an agreement to sell Saab to Koenigsegg Automotive AB, a consortium led by the Swedish supercar maker, Koenigsegg. The deal includes $600m in funding from the European Investment Bank, which is guaranteed by the Swedish government. Saab is expected to emerge from bankruptcy in August and cut all ties with GM in 2010.

[Kolja]

I just happen to think it is one of the best cars we ever did,” he said. “And the rest is compromise.”

To cika Enval kaze za 9K

Isti ja

[AERO]

Isti ja

[link_open=http://www.dodaj.rs/f/3e/iv/4JVTKUZ7/12 ... 958915.jpg]KLIK[/link_open]

[kd23se4]

@Aero - sjajan clanak! Zadovoljstvo za cítanje

[AERO]

@Aero - sjajan clanak! Zadovoljstvo za cítanje

Hvala Kd ....imam vec sledecu pricu ali ce mi trebati tvoja pomoc ....nemacki jezik

Poslacu ti materijal na PP,pa ga ti samo iscitaj (kad stignes) ,pa svojim recima ubaci tekst.....ja cu ti napraviti podlogu sa slikama i uvodom,pa se ti samo nadovezi

....

P.S.

Ostali - nemoj samo da mi citate - niste u biblioteci .Radite nesto...

[AERO]

E dooobro....evo sledece price.....zapravo ja cu vise slike,a Kd (kad ugrabi vremena) napisace jedan post iz materijala koji sam mu poslao.....Hvala kd unapred u ime celog foruma

Dakle ovako......

Jedna renomirana Nemacka SAAB autokuca i serviser (Lafrentz iz Kiel-a),koja je na saab sceni vise od 25 godina,bila je jedan od organizatora internacionalnog saab festivala 2013te,koji je odrzan u Trollhattanu-u od 31. maja do 02. juna ove godine ...



Koliko je tako jedan "hepening" interesantan za ljubitelje saab-a,naravno netreba spominjati,ali ako jos na to dodamo i odlicnu organizaciju - onda mozete misliti kako je to bilo lepo



Ovo dosad vam deluje skroz ok,i nista spektakularno,jer znamo da takvi skupovi figuriraju godinama unazad.Medjutim,obratite paznju sad.
Skup svih zainteresovanih posetilaca skupa iz Evrope,bio je upravo u auto kuci Lafrentz 30.05.,tu je bio koktel u svabskom fazonu,prigodni pokloni,uplata kotizacija itd.....i odatle (iz Kiel-a) u ORGANIZOVANOJ koloni
saab-ova....pravac Trollhattan



Znaciiiiii luuudilo .....najstariji model iz kolone je bila 93ka iz 1953ce
Tamo su ih sacekale Swede.......i svi sa te strane (Norvezani,Danci itd - kojima je bilo blize da idu direktno tamo),a iz Nemacke su isle svabe,holandezi,swajcarci i ostali sa ove strane vamo.....Tamo je organizovana pijaca polovnih i novih delova (kacio sam ja par slika odatle na forum) i svasta jos nesto.......Jednom recju VRH ZEZANJE !!!!!!

E sad ,posto sam ja "tanak" sa Nemackim jezikom...ja krecem sa slikama, a KD ce nastaviti sa pricom kad iscita materijal.....

Idemo redom:

Deo Lafrentz tima




Organizatori i fotografi - spremni



Pocetak okupljanja ispred auto kuce....













Docek,kotizacija,kartice za ucesnike,neki pokloncic,nalepnica i znate sta vec ide u tim prilikama...

[AERO]

U organizovanoj koloni se vozi do ferija (trajkt - feribot kako ga ko zove)











...i kolona stize ispred muzeja



Tamo ekipa neo-brosa predstavlja svoj projekat (imamo ga vec na forumu)



...i ko ce drugi nego "deka Carlsson" da skida ciradu



I sad sledi "zilion" slika gde su se slikali po modelima auta,pa onda na onom brdascetu gde stoji SAAB znak sto ga nas Gripi drzi ([link_open=http://www.dodaj.rs/f/T/10n/2wQGDR0k/53 ... 710953.jpg]KLIK[/link_open]) ....pa onda ovakve fore sa otvorenim gepek vratima



...i tako redom.....do one pijace sa delovima [link_open=http://postimg.org/gallery/cb4wopl8/]KLIK[/link_open] (stavljao neke slike pre par dana na forum).

Evo uzivajte ako ima nesto sto Vam se svidja

[AERO]

...e da.

Videli ste sliku gde su na jednom mestu bili clanovi [link_open=http://www.saabsunited.com/]SAABSUNITED-a[/link_open]



pa je bio onaj sto je okrenuo preko milion km (znate ga - spominjali smo ga)



Pa je bio onaj "napucani"i njega smo kacili na forum.....



...ima jos slika ali me mrzi da kacim

Eto ...to je u principu to dok KD ne doda jos nesto i stavi tacku na ovu pricu ......Ovakvi dogadjaji su stvarno jedno prelepo iskustvo,druzenje i zabava/razonoda,i ko god nije imao priliku da dozivi nesto slicno (u ma kojoj varijanti-automobil,motorcikl) - stvarno nezna sta je propustio.
Nezelim da prejudiciram stvari ,ali vec dosta dugo razmisljam da organizujem
nesto slicno prilagodljivo nasem dzepu.
Dakle pogoditi vikend,bukirati one super jeftine avionske karte po 30evrica sest meseci unapred,iznajmiti tamo autobus BEZ vozaca [link_open=http://youtu.be/CSGg-5z1Wjs]KLIK[/link_open] ,organizovati bungalove za spavanje,i klopu da mi nebudete gladni,organizovati posetu muzeja i nekoliko odpada (da pokupujete sta vam treba za DZ),i ako se nas Troll(a cujemo da je i nordic jak na tom polju) sete da nam srede neke Swedjanke da se malo ovajdimo
To sve mora da stane u 100e po "lobanji" ,i minimum mora da bude 35 interesenata (avion tamo vamo,dva nocenja,najam busa,nafta za njega da mozemo da se "djidamo" ,ulaznice za muzej,i leb i pasteta da ne poriknjavamo od gladi)

Ako uspem - Carlsson i Troll nose kofere svima i prave sendvice .......ideja ostvarljiva za sledecu godinu (ovo vreme) ako sve bude kako treba ..... sve mora odande i tamo da se organizuje

Ajd sad - laku noc

[kd23se4]

@Aero ako idemo po otpadima bolje da idemo kolima i podelimo pare za gorivo i sl.

Inace 900CD koji se vidi na slikama sa Frankfurt tablicama [link_open=http://postimg.org/image/ah456le5t/]KLIK[/link_open] je jedan od clanova nemackog foruma. Momak je kola nabavio u Spaniji, auto je dugo stajao u garazi i bio je skoro perfektno ocuvan.

[nik 900t]

ja bih da idem u SWE........

[Viggen 93]

Konačno, i to slučajno nađoh tekst gde se govori o SAAB-u, kakvog ga ja vidim. Stvar je u tome da za mene auto(SAAB)predstavlja nešto što volim, deo zivota, pa iako ga još nemam, osećam to.Ono što mene privlači jeste uzivanje u voznji(zvuk motora, ukratko autosport za moju dušu), a retko sam vidjao da neko takodje voli spremanje automobila koje podrazumeva ogoljen enterijer bez radia, klime i svih ostalih stvarčica.U ovom tekstu apostrof je na tome da ste ovde samo vi, put, SAAB, zvuk motora i sloboda, koja je nazalost ovde ograničena cenom goriva. Pročitajte ovaj tekst i shvatićete me zašto to volim, a jedna rečenica koja je ostavila veoma veliki utisak na mene jeste.Ako stvarno i iskreno volite svoj auto(SAAB)u regularnom stanju sa svim opcijama poput grejanja sedišta, klime, tempomata i svega ostalog, zapitajte se da li bi ste ga isto voleli ogoljenog(bez tnavedenih dosadnih stvarčica), kada od svega toga nemate ništa, ali zato čujete svoj automobil i dalje imate karoseriju o kojoj ste uvek maštali da imate.Ako ga i tada volite, onda je taj automobil, ne samo automobil, nego i deo zivota.Da ne duzim, evo teksta:
[link_open=http://crsaab.blogspot.com/2011/06/bare ... e-and.html]Link do teksta[/link_open]

Bare-Naked Driving
I am, by nature and training, a deconstructionist. I enjoy the intellectual rigor of
examining a situation, problem or thing and dissecting it into its component parts. This is helpful when one is not overly bright, for it affords me the ability to analyze situations I would otherwise find baffling. Much of my time at conservatory was spent doing this sort of analysis, on both music (I am one of those few freaks who actually enjoyed music theory and analysis and took every course I could) and performance at the instrument. People of immense talent and genius do not do this; they don’t have to.

When assessing the driving experience of a car, there is, of course, how said car feels in total. This is very important. I also like to look past that and gauge my reaction to the various systems. However, as cars have become more integrated, more digital, more “of a piece,” this has become increasingly challenging. Thus it was with great analytical interest that I approached my first drives in the newly unleashed 1985 Saab SPG Hillclimb car built by sons Marcel and Pascal for the Climb to the Clouds race at Mount Washington.

Construction of this car essentially involved stripping it to a shell, throwing away everything that doesn’t contribute to making the car go, stop or corner, and then putting it back together again. Sunroof? Gone. Power windows? Gone. Stereo, comfy seats, heater, AC, insulation, door panels and cruise control? All gone. After being taken to the car’s essence, there are some additions: this is a race car, not an exercise in automotive asceticism. Hence, better suspension, lots of go fast stuff on the engine, racing seats and a full roll cage are fitted. Is it like driving a 900? Unmistakably.

While the ignition key assembly between the seats is gone, the array of switches to
activate various circuits, and the pushbutton starter, are all on a custom console in its place. Nice touch. Once started, the exhaust note, amplified from the large exhaust and absence of sound deadening inside the car is unmistakably 900 turbo. Sitting in a racing seat is not. I adore Saab seats, and while the Sparco seat and 5 point harness aren’t bad, even after 90 minutes in the car, I missed my real Saab seat. Another thing I missed was the 900 smell (every C900 owner knows what I mean). Apparently that does reside in the fabrics, and not in the bones of the car. Once I pulled off, the driving experience was at once familiar.

I was immediately at home in this minimalist 900. Delicious clutch (even with upgraded bits), strong brakes, wonderful steering, and handling that was completely predictable and sure footed, even on modest street tires. When I think back to my parents’ first new car, I recall that it had no radio, a rubber floor mat, crank windows, and not much else. So it was with the SPG. It got me to thinking—do we really need all that junk in a car? I realize that this SPG is not a viable daily driver if only for the noise level, even with ear plugs, and I’m talking road-noise, not exhaust.. When you get rid of all the toys—the NAV, the audio system, the sunroof, the SID, the trip computer, the cruise control…..the only thing you’re left with is driving. Now there’s a novel thing to focus on in a car! It’s like removing all the sauce and stuff on a plate and having just the piece of meat and eating it unadorned. This may not be for everyone, but a real meat lover will like nothing better. Thus, I found myself, even when loafing along on the highway in the right lane in the SPG, very much enjoying the experience.
[link_open=http://crsaab.blogspot.com/2011/06/bare ... e-and.html]Link do teksta[/link_open]
Could I drive a bare-naked car every day? Almost. A C900, which I drive now, isn’t that far removed when compared to a modern car, so I think I could. I would want to keep some insulation, normal seats, and a heater and defroster are a must. I do like a sunroof but could live without one Likewise I could also do without power windows, locks, cruise control, AC and carpeting. Yes, I would also like to have a radio and clock. But not much else. The realization in all this to me was that if you like a car, then reduce that car to its bones and still like it, then you know that your passion for the car is deep-rooted and goes to that car’s essence. Toys and luxuries are nice to have, but applied to an uninspiring set of bones is like (pardon me here) putting lipstick on a pig. I bet that a lot of Saab drivers would feel the same. Take a Lexus, say, and strip it down and ask Lexus owners what they think. I bet the reaction would be a bit different. I believe that many Saab drivers would love driving a Saab sans accoutrements—not that they’d give them up for good—and this may be why we are so passionate about these cars.

[ahsirob]

Ima na facebook stranici ali nema ovde:

[link_open=http://www.saabplanet.com/old-saab-factory/]Old Saab factory (link na saabplanet.com postavljen 4.11.2014.)[/link_open]

Saab production Moments…

“Saab Automobile”, Trollhätttan…

[nik 900t]

strasne fotke bravo

[goransaab]

Svima je favorit onaj dečko u šortsu :) inače, u fabrici je bila neverovatno opuštena atmosfera bez tenzija iako su imali targete, ali sve je bilo toliko optimizovano da nije bilo ptrebe za žurbom.

[devet-pet]

Evo sam se jutros baš ugodno iznenadio, članak u e-novinama:

Saab u Autoklubu

(ako nije za ovu rubriku, molim prebacite post)

[boresky]

Nije losa900tka,svidja mi se.Jos samo da nadjem tog Elija da cujem kolko racuna radni sat(ako zatreba,nedo Bog).

[kd23se4]

Jes da su u tekstu pogresili za obrtni momenat, ali sta zna dete sta je 255Nm

[Slavisacs]

Evo nas clan Marko Petrovic...
http://www.saabplanet.com/new-age-retro ... for-saabs/

Послато са Lenovo A606

[VladimirS]

Hoću da uradim to, video sam na prolećnoom skupu, ali nikako da budem načisto da li mi se sviđa sa takvim farovima ili ne. Sigurno osvetljava bolje, samo još estetski da raskrstim.

[devet-pet]

Evo opet jednoga...u autoklubu

Saab 900 cabrio