Microcar Mania at the Lane Motor Museum
Tiny cars are huge funIt's not hyperbole to call the Lane Motor Museum the world's greatest collection of eccentric and oddball automobiles. Located in a warehouse district of southeastern Nashville inside what was once a Sunbeam Bread bakery, the Lane is delightfully free of glossy floors and garish automobilia. It's a place where Tatras, Alpines, DKWs, and a cornucopia of other cars you've probably never heard of can shine.
We've come to this glorious celebration of automotive obscura to sample the museum's extensive collection of microcars. As part of its annual media drive, the Lane graciously allowed us behind the wheel of some of its strangest, rarest, and most interesting pint-sized wonders. To be clear, we're not talking about the contemporary Mini Cooper, Fiat 500, or Smart Fortwo here. These cars will redefine your idea of small.
Despite the categorical implication of the term microcar, the segment is nebulous and hardly definitive. Although the vast majority of these tiny terrors are motivated by engines less than 1.0 liter in size, the Lane considers any small car with an engine checking in at 0.4 liters or so to be part of the microcar family.
Wee stature and microscopic engine displacement aren't their only unconventional aspects. Some microcars even sport fewer than four wheels, thanks to some clever legislation. In Great Britain, three-wheelers aren't considered cars at all; you need only a motorcycle license to operate them. In several European countries, vehicles that fall under the legal microcar definition—no heavier than 937 pounds, a 50cc engine with no more than roughly 5.4 horsepower, a top speed not exceeding 28 mph—do not require a license to operate, earning a reputation for attracting the elderly, the young, and in some cases, the serial drunken drivers with revoked licenses. These so-called voitures sans permis (cars without permit) are particularly popular in France, where an entire industry supplies these machines to city dwellers, penny pinchers, and barflies.
After almost dislocating a joint or two climbing inside, the P50 proved as gleeful to drive as it is to look at.
Not only were classic microcars cheap to buy, they were inherently thrifty to operate. Fuel, brake, and tire consumption were minimal, and the engines were usually two-stroke, one-cylinder thumpers ripped out of scooters or motorcycles. To manage what little power there is, you'll find a potpourri of transmissions in microcars, including manual, sequential, continuously variable, and automatic.
My tiny-car tour began on the Lane museum's grounds, where I snacked on a selection of cars too fragile, temperamental, or short-legged for the open road. These vehicular hors d'oeuvres began with a pair of bright red Peels, a brand that's recently become the face of rising microcar popularity.








