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The Daily Vroom

MARKET LEADERBOARD

💰 The figures shared below don’t count any other sales such as car seats, memorabilia etc… All online auction sites are analyzed to put this leaderboard together.

I only include websites that have sold 5+ vehicles in the chart below.

YESTERDAY’S TOP 3 SALES

Want to dive deeper into any of these listings? Just click on the car to take you directly to the listing.

2003 Saleen S7 $900,000 (1,910 miles)

2006 Ferrari F430 Spider 6-Speed $485,000 (23k miles)

2025 Porsche 911 GT3 RS Weissach $480,000 (2,364 miles)

💡 TDV Tip

If one of today's cars has caught your eye, don't just look at the hammer price.

Importing? Check here the true landed cost.

Buying within the U.S.? Get a free shipping quote (with our tool) in under a minute. No email. No phone number. No sales calls.

I Made A Huge Mistake

A few days ago I made a mistake. I clicked on an Instagram ad for one of those garage apps. You know the type. Add your cars, upload your photos, watch your collection's value, all in one beautiful place.

Since then my feed has become a parade of them. Not the same app. Different ones. Lots of different ones, each a slight tweak on the same idea. One click and the entire category found me, and honestly, I had no idea there were this many.

This isn't a shot at any particular company. There are too many of them for it to even be about one company, which is kind of the point. Somewhere, a lot of smart people decided that what car owners really want is to maintain a digital museum of their own vehicles. And I keep looking at these apps and asking the same question.

What do I actually get? I know my cars. They're in my garage. I can see them. Why do I want to pay to keep an electronic record of things I own and look at regularly?

The answer these apps all give is the same one: so you can keep an eye on what they're worth.

And that, for me, is the worst part of the whole pitch. Because the values are never right. Not sometimes off. Never right. I've written about this before and I'll keep writing it: you cannot put a single number on a collector car. A range, sure. But a range is nearly useless, and a chart of a made-up number moving around is worse than useless, it's a story pretending to be data. I say this as someone who genuinely loves data. The charts are too much even for me, because a beautiful chart of a wrong number is still a wrong number.

Now, let me be fair about the part that does make sense. Service records. A documented car is a better car when it's time to sell, every serious seller I know says the same thing. If one of these apps is genuinely how you keep your maintenance history straight across a few cars, that's real, and I get it.

But that's not what the ads sell. The ads sell the number. And the deeper thing that bothers me is what these apps ask of you. You do the work. You add the cars. You update the mileage. You maintain the records. You curate the collection. You do all of that so the software has something to show you. It feels backwards to me. I don't want another thing to maintain. I want things that do the work and then leave me alone.

Rant over 😃 But maybe that's just me. Genuinely, maybe it is. So I'm asking.

If you love your garage app, I mean it, tell me why. I'm asking because I might be missing something, and the comments on these polls have taught me more than the votes.

No Reserve Auctions To Keep An Eye On

I know this isn't technically a car, but I saw this little 1970 Honda CT70 Trail and couldn't help myself delving a little further. Just look at it. It's absolutely brilliant.

There's something very Boomer culture about the whole thing. This was being sold when Nixon was president, and to me it's one of those little icons of an age that somehow instantly takes you back there, even if you weren't actually there yourself.

And it's Honda all over. Nothing particularly complicated. A tiny 72cc four-stroke engine, three-speed semi-automatic transmission, 10-inch wheels, folding handlebars and a little chrome luggage rack on the back. Basically everything you need and absolutely nothing you don't.

This one isn't perfect, and the commenters have already been doing what BaT commenters do best. The green isn't apparently an original Honda color, the engine doesn't appear to match the frame and the speedometer seems to have come from a four-speed bike.

But quite frankly, I don't think I'd care. It's showing 2,800 miles, has recently had some mechanical attention and, most importantly, just looks like an enormous amount of fun for something so small.

I'm certainly not suggesting everyone suddenly needs a 56-year-old Honda minibike in their garage.

But tell me this wouldn't look fantastic sitting in the corner next to your car.

After the little Honda CT70 above, I couldn't resist this one. A 1993 Suzuki Cappuccino. And quite frankly, you could probably put both of them in your garage and still have room for another car.

These things are brilliant. Less than 11 feet long, under 1,600 pounds, a tiny 657cc turbo three-cylinder, rear-wheel drive and a five-speed manual. Basically Suzuki took everything you actually need to have fun and shrunk it.

This one's far from perfect. It's done around 94,000 miles, has been repainted, there's some corrosion underneath and it's been modified, including what the seller says is an aftermarket turbo.

Do I care? At $3,000 with seven days to go and no reserve, not particularly.

I'm not expecting it to stay near that number, but this is exactly the sort of slightly ridiculous car I love seeing come up for auction.

63hp, three cylinders and probably more fun than half the cars with ten times the power. And it takes up almost no room. What's not to like?

After the little Honda and an even tinier Suzuki above, I thought we should probably leave some room for an actual car. And this will do very nicely.

A 1999 Ferrari 456M GT, with a 5.5-litre naturally aspirated V12 up front, a six-speed manual in the middle and, most importantly for this section, no reserve.

Apparently only 688 of the updated 456M were built with the manual gearbox, and this one is Argento Nürburgring over red leather, has covered just over 65,000 km and was originally delivered in Monaco.

I've always liked the 456. It's from that period when a Ferrari could be properly fast and expensive without needing to shout about it. And quite frankly, a V12 Ferrari with four seats and a manual gearbox sounds even better to me today than it probably did when it was new.

This one isn't perfect either. The cambelt history has already come up in the comments, although the seller says the belts will be done before delivery if it sells, and there's been some back and forth about getting a Ferrari inspection done. All things I'd want to get comfortable with before getting too excited.

But there's another reason I picked this one. It's in France.

And that's normally the point where anyone in the US who's been quietly thinking I really like that starts wondering what on earth it's actually going to cost to get it home.

So rather than me giving you the answer, have a play with our Import Calculator.

Put in the Ferrari, where you want it delivered and whatever you think the final price might be, and it'll work through the estimated shipping, duties and other import costs.

With seven days still to go, you can keep changing the purchase price as the bidding moves. Just don't blame me if you start convincing yourself this is actually a very sensible idea.

After a Honda you could practically carry into the garage and a Suzuki that barely takes up any room, a manual V12 Ferrari feels like a pretty good way to fill whatever space is left.

Want to know the best place to sell your collector car, or even find the right PowerSeller who can handle the whole thing for you? GoAskSam. It took us a year to build, takes you about a minute to use, and it’s completely free.

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