I had a pinto, baby blue. Went forever. I knew people who listened to their Vega rust.
My Pinto was brown, with the base 2.0L OHC four and a 4-speed manual. It originally came into the family when I was about 11, and when I was 13 my dad taught me how to drive in that car (we lived in the country and there were plenty of backroads where a young’un such as myself could get driving lessons without drawing undue attention). During my junior year of high school Dad and I were driving to school one morning (he taught at the HS I attended) and the engine seized. We got Mom to pick us up after school and we got the truck and rope-towed it home, where it sat for a couple years.
Fast forward to my freshman year of college. I decided I really needed a car, so Dad and I rebuilt the engine in the Pinto and I drove it back up to San Luis Obispo. It ran well, but I suspect I didn’t do a very good job of breaking it in; it smoked like crazy, even after putting new valve guide seals on it. Eventually we decided it had to go when I had to add three quarts of oil during a 400-mile drive home.
But since it was the first car that I had exclusive use of, I still remember it fondly.
Vegas would start to rust on THE SHOWROOM FLOOR.