In my early 20s of car enthusiasm, the prime thing to do to a car is to lower it. The wheel gaps from the factory always seem to be a tad high. Of course then the first modification item I bought for my purely pedestrian Toyota Corolla was a set of lowering springs.
In my now late 30s of car enthusiasm, I have no desire to do the same to my current Golf GTI. Yes, the wheel gaps are rather enormous on it too. But with experience comes wisdom, and what starts at lowering springs can quickly spiral into many unintended consequences.
So let’s say the car is lowered. Job done, right? Well now the wheels look kind of sunken into the body. You can remedy this by either putting on wheel spacers to punch out the wheels a bit, or go the full route and buy an entirely new set of wheels with a lower offset specification. That’s money you didn’t intend on spending, but soon as you put on lowering springs, you’re already in quick sand.
Lower offset wheels creates a new problem: rock chips. The wheels sticking further out means less of the existing fender work can protect the debris being constantly flung. The car’s lower rear quarter panel gets pummeled. You can either live with stone chips, or put paint protection film onto the quarters. Ah yes, more money to spend.
A lowered car naturally means the bottom of the bumper is closer to the ground. Poorly graded driveways are now the worst enemies. Leaving a gas station onto the road is an exercise of angular contortion to avoid scraping the front. Meanwhile, that normal person in a stilted SUV simply drive straight without a care.
These days I want my cars to work without any fuss. Driving should not be stressful! Limiting NVH - noise, vibration, and harshness - matters greatly to me, as if I’m a boomer retired grandfather. The GTI rides relatively superbly from the factory, with an excellently insulated cabin space. The last thing I want to do is to begin ruining that by installing shorter springs and stiffer suspension components, purely for looks.
Three-step process.
