Accelerating up a hill along a glacial lake in rural Sweden, outside of Gothenberg, I downshift the four-speed manual transmission into second and peg the throttle. The 1979 silver-blue 1985 Volvo 244 D6 I’m driving is a basic sedan, with navy velour seats, hubcapless steelies, manual windows and door locks, and shaming blank plates where the radio and tachometer might have gone. But it is equipped with a 2.4-liter straight-six diesel, a motor the Swedish automaker purchased from VW to service the North American market, where Mercedes had made luxurious inroads in the era with oil burners. So as I floor it, it belches an unctuous blat of inky smut. A young family is picnicking on the shore of the lake, but instead of choking and flipping me off, they turn and cheer, throwing thumbs-ups as I clatter pass.
This particular D6 happens to be the first diesel 240 that rumbled off the local assembly line, and it belongs to Volvo’s extensive heritage collection. But that wouldn’t be something a bystander (bysitter?) could discern as my Arctic Ice sedan belched by, shrouded in NOXious effluent. They were applauding because, like many people, they loved the Volvo 240, a car that, despite having none of the characteristics that typically evince a vehicle’s collectability—speed, rarity, sensuousness, toplessness—has become a desirable classic. A couple years back, it even made Hagerty’s Bull Market List, an annual compendium of vintage vehicles projected to appreciate in the coming years.
So, what is it about the 240—which appears to have been drawn with a T-square, upholstered by JC Penny, and powered by squirrel burrow—that makes it so alluring?
“I think, in part, it is the anti-design that it really stands for,” says Hans Hedberg, a lifelong Volvo fanatic and veteran Swedish automotive journalist who now manages the brand’s heritage cars and activities. “It’s about functionality, or transport. It was never done to be fancy. And in that way, it’s very authentic, and people are attracted to that.” Hagerty echoes this, stating that “Square is now cool, and über-utility holds as much appeal to younger buyers as sexy lines and sporty handling had for Boomers.” Of course, I already knew this, having owned a battered manual Volvo 265 wagon back in the 90s.
Volvo produced the 240 series for almost 20 years, manufacturing nearly 3 million units, so it had an extended lifespan in which to imprint on people, extending its desirability across generations. It was also a nameplate that incorporated all manner of distinct models and modalities—two-door, four-door, five-door, limousine, slammed coupe, ambulance, police car, hot rod—so there’s a something for everyone. And this doesn’t even take into account its specialty uses.
“In 1985, we won the European touring car champion with a flying brick, a Volvo wagon race car,” Hedberg says. In 1980, Red Cloud, a standard Canadian 245 wagon driven by Garry Sowerby and Ken Langley, set the speed record for driving around the world. “We even had 4x4s in the 70s, in the 240, prototypes that never went into production,” Hedberg says.
Moreover, its blank, tank-like, rectilinear design enunciated its intention: coupling innovatory versatility with Methuselahian longevity, obdurate durability, and unerring safety. This has made the 240 an exemplar of brand equities. “Everyone knows what a Volvo is: Boxy. But it’s not the ugly boxiness, it’s just the functional boxiness,” Hedberg says. “For me, it’s an icon.”
Part of what provides icons with their status is their preternatural elasticity, their ability to be and become different things to different people. 240s can thus occupy a broad variety of contemporary identities, even broader than they did when first constructed.
“You can have the treatment of 240s go low and high,” Hedberg says. In Sweden, one end of this spectrum includes subsets of the “Raggare” Redneck/Rockabilly culture, which fetishizes vintage American vehicles, as well as reprehensible iconography like the Confederate flag, with common local lovers swapping an American V8 engine into their 240s. At the other, it compels lovers of the Veemer, which Hedberg describes as “a Volvo converted with a BMW drivetrain,” typically a Bavarian 3-liter inline-six and gearbox.
Other popular builds include utilization of the Volvo I-6 “White Block” engine, tuned versions of the indestructible Volvo I-4 “Red Block” engine, and even electrification. Also, increasingly, overlanding. “A lot of young people put a roof tent on 240 wagons, and use it for camping, or for going for festivals,” Hedberg says.
Hedberg knows this category, having built a soft-roader from his 240 wagon 15 years ago, featuring a 30 mm lift, a roof rack, and extra driving lamps, as well as graphics denoting it as a Cross-Country. Though this was Volvo’s own copyrighted moniker for its jacked and clad vehicle line, it did not sue for infringement. “I did a tour from the north to the south of Sweden in one day without stopping,” he says. “So that’s a true Cross-Country.”
Other previously utilitarian vehicles—like the Land Rover Defender, Ford Bronco, and Chevrolet Blazer K/5—have recently become popular templates for six-figure luxury builds, coupled with upgrades in powertrains, suspensions, materials, and technology. We haven’t seen that approach with 240s, yet. Though Hedberg cites historical precedent for adoption.
“Monsieur Dumas, the CEO of Hermes, converted a 240, and it’s still in their collection in Paris, in the dungeons of Hermes,” he says. The chairman of the exclusive French ultra-luxury fashion and leather-goods maison took a classic 245 Turbo Wagon, slathered it in alpine green metallic paint and outfitted it with a buttery Hermes cowhide interior. “He could have picked whatever car he wanted—he could have taken a Rolls-Royce—but he took a 245 wagon to drive on the streets of Paris,” Hedberg says. “I think that is a statement. It’s like the haute couture of Volvo.”
I kind of like these in wagon form, they seem really long.
The 740 and 940 are my faves though.
I actually just ordered a “Basically the same thing” shirt from Blipshift – a Volvo wagon next to a Countach towing a box trailer.
I do love the 1979 1985s.
Growing up, my parents had a 240DL in maroon for many years. When I got to driving age, my Dad bought a red 240DL for me to drive (at that time it was a 15+ year old vehicle). It had well over 200K miles and was an absolute tank. It was affectionately named “two tons of love” within my social circle. I frequently keep my eye out for one, but the right deal hasn’t come along. With the popularity of these now I am not sure it will, and that’s ok. So it goes.
Among the first cars I drive was the family ‘83 245 diesel wagon. Yep: diesel, longroof, brown, manual.
When I was away at college a mature oak fell straight down the middle of the car, crushed the roof down to the cargo area. My mother had some Jamaican shade tree mechanic pound it back up, replaced the glass and hatch, and she drove it as her Home Depot getter for another couple of years before selling it to one of her contractors. Probably still running around somewhere.
My Dad used a 140 series as his work vehicle for years. It wasn’t until the late 80’s that he finally got a proper constructions workers truck, an F150. That old 140 ran like a champ though.
Speaking as a boomer old guy: form should follow function and (not exactly related) more power to the kids.
I had a 85 Volvo 245 in college, blue on blue 4 speed manual with overdrive. Bought for around $1200 in 2015 It was the perfect college car. A bit of a beater, but lots of room for moving furniture, people and the occasional keg. I never had to worry about street parking it near campus because it wasn’t nice enough to lose any sleep over. Could be used for donuts in snowy parking lots. Was very slow but had a charming demeanor about it.
Went on 2 cross country road trips with it and a good friend of mine. One trip required a spark plug change in Flagstaff the other required fixing a coolant leak in Dallas.
I sold it shortly after graduation, I loved that car but it had served it’s purpose and it was time to move on. It had various gremlins that would pop up every now and then but more concerning was the rust which had consumed the floorboards and was chewing it’s way through the rockers. Someday I’ll have another more pristine example.
Back in the early 90’s Esquire’s Stanley Bing ( Fortune magazine’s Gil Schwartz’s Pen name) talked about buying a Volvo as an Upper Executive car, because you could look good and go fast for a lot less money. This was back when they were turbo charging everything, and had the Black Monochrome look.
The 240 is an object lesson in how Instagram car hipsters can make an unfashionable car trendy, despite them having no redeeming features whatsoever.
Find me another car designed in the 1960s with near 50/50 weight distribution, and a 3 star safety rating in North America into the 2000’s. Oh, that also dominated actual sports cars in group A racing, while also serving as an ambulance and tractor. Ya.
Sure, hipsters love 240s, but so does everyone else.
No one loved them until until edge lords gaslit everyone into thinking they’re a Swedish three series.
I agree, Instagram car hipsters have no redeeming features whatsoever
There are no glacial lakes outside of Gothenburg…. unless you go very very far outside…
Volvo – They’re boxy, but they’re good
Jaguar. Men – Get hand jobs from beautiful women you hardly know.
Volvo 240: Have actual intercourse with beautiful women who want to know you.
Any woman who lusts after a Volvo 240 is not for me.
The thing with the 240 is they aren’t lusting after the car- they lust after a man with the taste and good sense to drive one.
This brings back memories. My dad had an 85, then (I think) 91 or 92 sedan, my 1st driving lessons were in the latter one. Funny as a car enthusiast looking back I can’t recall the exact model #s, but at the time, even as a budding enthusiast mostly interested in muscle cars and classics, these seemed the antithesis of an enthusiast car. I’ll have to ask dad, I’m sure he’d remember the details.
I Bought a new 244 DL in 1976 and it was a POS. Running a fuel pump wire under the rubber mat with a splice in the trunk without screwing down the splice is POS eeee and good luck keeping the HVAC blower motor running for more than a year. Oh yeah and it rusted like a 70’s Toyota.
My mom drove an ’83 sedan (in white) back in the late 90’s as our family’s second car (my mom usually drove the beater since my dad usually had to commute long distances). Compared to anything else we ever had, the thing was rock solid and just oozed personality despite being what most would consider boring. I would love to own one someday, but like the article said, nice ones are getting reeeeeaaaaaly expensive.
We’re a long way from 1979’s Shibumi and its literal Volvo-bashing.
Finally read that about a year ago, interesting yarn. Finally connected the dots on my dad telling me about people hitting their own Volvos (book was from his extensive collection of 70’s/80’s paperbacks).
It’s campy fun, I’m pretty sure the writer started out trying to satire the genre and ended up going, “here, this is how we do it properly.”
Sweet lord, Warner Brothers has a movie in development!!!!!!
I was a major online seller of 240 parts from about 1998-2005. Parted out 50+ cars. If you Google my government name and Volvo 240, there are still quite a few hits. I would love to have a 245 again. Best cars I’ve ever owned and driven.
I don’t think there ever was a 2.7-liter version of the D24? The car appears to even say 2.4-liter on the front quarter-panel.
At any rate, been on the hunt for one of these for awhile, in basically any sort of running condition. There’s still a few over here in the US, but they’ve gotten rather rare over the years.
That’s what irritates me, too …
In addition: The diesel 240 were built until the end in 1993. It seems no one had proofread the article. A shame, considering he had an expert with him on the tour.
Also:
Well, why should they? He was acting as a private person.
On the date part, I’m willing to concede that ‘that particular factory’ may have quit producing them in 1986. But, difficult to check on that one.
That jumped out at me, too.
You are right about the lack of “proofreaders” at the Autopian. I have raised this issue a few times in the past and pointed the errors in the articles a several times before.
1983 Volvo 240 Turbo Evolution “Flat Hood.” Built to homologate the 242 Turbo for Group A.
Want. A lot.
https://silodrome.com/volvo-242-group-a-homologation-flathood/
https://flathood.saliv8.com/history.php
I’ve owned an 86 245, a 92 245 and an 89 745. The 240 series is perfect – you can make it the car you want it to be, and I did.
Lifted (ish, with overload springs) and did my grad school field work through 6+ inch deep muddy haul roads on a landfill in Maine, then served as a camping rig throughout new england, then dropped with all the ipd swag and a robustanual trans that was fast enough to be fun but not fast enought to get in trouble. Then a bad driver rear ended me while I stopped for a school bus. The 92 245 was a hauler – moved a lot of friends apartmets, hauled lumber to rebuild a 1940s boat house on a lake. Then dropped it on 850R voland and self installed an exhaust – while building a complete parts kit for a turbo swap and manual trans swap. Then it blew a freeze plug and killed itself on aong drive.
Learned what cars can be – learned to work on them, improve them for my needs utility over all. Best cars ever. I want to own one again
Mom had a 1983 Volvo (244) DL Automatic.
Back then, there was so little stock in the US that it wasn’t a matter of ordering the color you wanted unless you wanted to wait months for the boat to be loaded in Sweden with the car you wanted and sent to the States.
She told the salesman she wanted a Blue one.
He said “I have a Yellow one and a Sand Beige one coming in”
“I want Blue”
“I have a Yellow one and a Sand Beige one coming in”
“I’ll take the Beige one”
Years later in the early 90’s when it came time to replace the DL after my Sister was rear-ended, Mom got her Blue 240.
After she bought the new one, she wrote Volvo a letter thanking them for building a safe car that protected my Sister and that she had just purchased a new 240 – just like the ads of the time.
In response, Volvo sent her a letter and a small Orrefors bud vase.
Almost 10 years later when Mom and Dad retired and decided to spend their next years traveling the continent in their new 40′ RV – they needed to sell the Volvo in favor of a Saturn that could be towed behind the coach on all 4 wheels.
She cried the day that Volvo was driven away.
Damn good story. This place has the best comments.
Now THAT was a transmission to learn to drive manual on.
I learned to drive manual in a 1971 144S 4 speed – the last year for the gooseneck gear selector which sprouted from the floor beneath the dashboard.
I’ve owned 4 Volvos, and cherish my current V8-powered one as my daily driver. I get why folks like these, but even when I was shopping for the late-’80s/early-’90s turbo Redblocks I couldn’t being myself to like the 200-series. 100s? Adorable. 700/900/90-series? Yes, please, and I owned two of them, one of which was for nearly a decade.
The 700/et al just seemed like such better overall vehicles comparatively. This would be especially evident when I had to do repairs on them (notably on friends’ 240s that would have weird electrical issues not unlike a British, Italian, or German vehicle).
Am I missing something?
Yes.
Perhaps. But at least the 700/et al had the fuel door on the driver’s side.
How many times did you open your door into the fuel pump when getting out?
And did you need to climb over the hose when returning to your seat for something while the car is fueling?
Are you left-handed?
These are the reasons I like the filler on the passenger side.
To answer your questions: 1: none because I can gauge where my door will open and park so that my doors open between the pump and the pillar where the windshield scrubber station is mounted. 2: If I’m cleaning my glass with said scrubber then I need to walk all the way around the car and/or get over the hose regardless of the side it’s on. 3: ambidextrous, not that I’ve found that to be advantageous or not when using a fuel pump.
My current and most-previous Volvo have the door on the wrong (passenger) side, as did my (Volvo-based!) Mercury Montego. The sole advantage I’ve yet found with it is when I come to a more-crowded gas station and the layout of vehicles allows one with a passenger-side filler to fit.
Volvo says they started doing it so if an operator ran out of fuel, they could refuel more safely. In my mind, it’d be better to, I dunno, make it so that the user doesn’t get to the point they run out of fuel and refueling is convenient.
That all said, driver’s side fuel doors are soooooooo much better, especially in winter. Open door, step out, fuel, step back in, done. Less exposure, faster, and the car (and if it’s windy) and the open driver’s door do great to reduce wind exposure. Same with summer, to the opposite degree (almost literally). Also from a security standpoint it’s less risky as only the driver door needs to be open and the operator can keep an eye on their door while fueling, and/or make a quick escape if something bad happens.
Every gas pump in my state has a sticker explicitly reminding users to NOT get in and out of the car while refueling, especially when cold.
“When you exit and re-enter your vehicle while refueling, there is the potential for sufficient static electricity to build up that a spark can discharge between your body and the fuel nozzle. In rare circumstances, the spark can ignite gasoline vapors around the fill spout, causing a brief flash fire.”
It has never occurred to me to reenter the car while refueling, and if I have to do it on the side of the road then I would very much rather not have my body IN the road while I do it.
I fully agree with the sticker. I specifically did not say to get back in the vehicle when fueling. Notice the procedure went “Open door, step out, fuel, step back in, done.” in that very specific order.
I’m well aware of the possibilities of static discharge, and I worked at a gas station for nearly 5 years back in my college days.
While I agree with your driver side is best side take, I absolutely never ever ever get back into my car while fueling. Why? I’ve seen 4 separate incidents of cars were the overflow shut off has failed and the car is literally spewing fuel onto and around the vehicle. Every single time the person was inside there vehicle instead of near the pump. Don’t be an idiot, the weather won’t kill you the five minutes it takes to fuel up.
It’s irrelevant where I am anyway. You have to hold the pump handle for it to pump gas, so you CAN’T get back in the car (not that you should anyway) unless you want the pump to stop too. A neighboring state takes it even further….. you can’t pump your own gas at all, full serve is the only serve.
As for the rest, clearly the cars of my youth had it best, put the fill behind the rear license plate. Park on either side, use whatever hand you want, etc. Unfortunately everything else about that spot (and most of those cars) sucked.
*Not responding to you because I disagree at all, you’re just the last post and I’m lazy. FWIW, driver side all the way.
I specifically did not say to get back in the vehicle when fueling. Notice the procedure went “Open door, step out, fuel, step back in, done.” in that very specific order.
I’m well aware of the possibilities of static discharge, and I worked at a gas station for nearly 5 years back in my college years.
While the Lego-like interior pics take me back to my childhood, I’m also reminded of the very cool Randy Pobst, an SCCA world challenge GT series champ who proudly campaigned factory-supported Volvos.
His column is the best thing about the SCCA magazine by far, and he’d often sing the praises of racing such an oddball choice.
My 1990 245 wagon gets lots of compliments wherever I go. Lots of “my mom used to drive one” and the like. It’s a fun car for Los Angeles- no rust issues and no real need for 4 wheel drive. The kiddos would rather ride in the Volvo than our much nicer and newer BMW.
I tried to get a 240 wagon several times around the turn of the century, but they were either on their last legs or way too pricey. Then I found old diesel Mercedes could be bought most days for $500 in reasonable shape.
I sometimes rub salt in that wound by watching vintage rallys : love watching them flicked through gravel