We love rides like this: DIY, labor of love types, usually the only cars owned and built (and driven daily) by wage-limited gearheads as passionate about them today as when they first signed their titles years ago. Some cars are their own stories—high-profile builds based on the hottest platforms, finished flawlessly with top-of-the-line parts, boasting big power—but not cars like this. The flaws are what tell the most about these cars, rather than their lack thereof; each one of a lesson learned, mishap suffered, or any number of unfortunate event to which we can all relate. Here, it’s the custom fabrication or adaptation of parts that becomes more interesting than simply which high-priced aftermarket offerings were bolted up. It’s the character and personality developed over years of hard-fought struggle alongside diehard enthusiasm these cars come to radiate that gives more to their value than simply that of their parts, the trends they set, or how fast they are. Of course, it never hurts to have all those qualities, either.
Meet Edgar Santiesteban. He’s the guy who bought this ’92 Nissan Sentra XE, used, nearly a decade ago, and stuck with it ever since. “It was bad, bro,” he begins. “Riced out to the max—bright yellow Nissan ‘hamburger’ logos all over it, a ‘Powered by Nissan’ banner front and rear, big ol’ stereo system, neon lights . . . It was bad.” Really bad. “It even had blocks in the suspension to keep the cheap-o 17-inch wheels from rubbing. Straight donk status!” That’s not to say Edgar didn’t do his part, too. “I riced it out a little more,” he laughs, owning up to the gaudy no-name kit he added in his first years. “What? I was young and didn’t know any better!” That is, until he met Gilbert Garay.
It was 2001, and the enthusiast community in the Phoenix, AZ, area was in full bloom. Like everywhere, Hondas were the most popular platforms, and “show” the most popular genre of build, but as tuners began realizing the potential of FWD Nissans as Honda performance alternatives, their popularity began to rise and Edgar began looking to take his Sentra in a new direction. “I remember there was this one clean B16A del Sol I used to see at the Auto Zone by my house, but never knew who drove it,” he tells. “And then one day as I was walking out the dude was pulling up and we started chattin’.” Gilbert was a student at UTI, moved performance parts for the Honda market to make ends meet, and was completely obsessed with all things JDM and performance. “He took one look at my ride and was like, ‘It’s . . . aight’,” laughs Edgar. “Never being a dick, even when he probably should’ve been.”
Over the years the two grew close. Edgar’s dad passed away suddenly and Gilbert moved into the family house to help pay bills and keep Edgar’s little brothers in check. Later, as Edgar’s mom gradually left the house to be foreclosed on, forcing him to forfeit a baseball scholarship and pick up another job to make ends meet, the two pitched in on a new house together and hatched a long-term plan. “I took some business classes and Gil was finishing up UTI and wrenching,” he says. “We vowed to keep working, finish up our cars, and one day open a retail/install shop together.”