How's the driving experience?
I bought my first speedster on an ebay auction in November of 2000. A guy in CA had put one together like a GC: he farmed out this and that to various places. It had a Vintage Speedster stay-fast to and vinyl interior, but no side-curtains, etc.
I knew nothing about these cars, and had mine shipped by the lowest price carrier I could find ($600) back to the midwest. It was open, but what did I know. The car took three weeks to arrive, after sitting with no side-curtains in every freight yard in the SW US. It spent a week or so riding around in the Rockies, dodging blizzards (somewhat unsuccessfully).
I received the car in a dimly lit parking lot, with the sky spitting sleet. The driver of the day had a 15 year old 1 ton Ford, and was pulling what looked to be about a 25 ft flat-bed with my car and one other. He dropped it off the ramps backing off. Somehow the car was undamaged, but we had to put it back on with a floor jack from my garage pushing off the gravel of the lot.
When I had it sitting on all fours, the guy drove off, and I jumped in. I was soaked to the bone. The sleet was changing to snow. I had to wipe 3 weeks worth of salt off the inside of the windshield to see out. I had my first plugged idle jet, and was hitting on 3. The headlights were a cruel joke, Illuminating the parking lot 5 ft in front of the driver's side, and every squirrel that might be wintering over in the trees beside the parking lot on the passenger's. There was not a seal on the body. The shifter was more vague than anything I'd ever driven, and I came of age driving anything with wheels. I found what I thought to be first, but which was really third, feathered the clutch and was underway.
I got half a block and started laughing like a maniac. It was ridiculous. This thing was no more a "car" in the commonly accepted way, than I am a "businessman". Yes, I own a small business, and yes, this thing had 4 wheels and a licence plate. But I always felt like I was a interloper in the marketplace (being a high-school educated pipefitter), and it seemed like this thing was more fun that ought to be legal on the street. It was rough as a cob, and more fun an a barrel of monkeys.
My car now is infinitely better than that first one. But the guts of the thing is really the same. It's raw and the very definition of visceral. But when the weather is just right, and the road is unrolling in front of me, it's pretty hard to beat. There are hundreds of faster cars for sure, and almost every other car built in the last 75 years rides better. But I've never been in a vehicle that makes my wife throw up her arms in the wind like she's on a roller-coaster whenever we get to an open stretch of road.
It's pretty close to perfect.