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Writer cruises through Canada's motoring history

This Canada Day, Commander Chris Hadfield released a song called "In Canada," that joked about wintry winters and long-distance summer camping trips, and all the other best bits of living in this great country.

This Canada Day, Commander Chris Hadfield released a song called "In Canada," that joked about wintry winters and long-distance summer camping trips, and all the other best bits of living in this great country.

The video immediately went viral, not least because Hadfield is pretty much how Canadians wish to see themselves: good-natured, talented, self-deprecating and able to pull off the mustachioed look.

When it comes to our driving natures, we follow much the same tack. We like cars that are good-looking, but nothing too flashy. We love utility. We often aim for the less-expensive end of the sliding scale (call it an affinity for the stripped-down, acoustic performance), and we only buy as much horsepower as we actually need.

The motoring history of Canada is really rather interesting, starting off in urban areas, and gradually spreading across the land as the Trans-Canada highway finally snaked its way from sea to shining sea. We had steam-powered cars as early as 1867, some years before Karl Benz would patent his combustion-powered car.

The first car, called the Taylor Steam Buggy, was built by Henry Seth Taylor in Quebec. As these were early days, he forgot a thing or two - namely, brakes - and immediately crashed it.

Slightly later on, as the mass mobilization of the Model T clattered its way across Canadian soil, Canada Post started employing electric carriages to deliver the mail in city centres. These batterypowered, mostly silent machines were harbingers of a future for the electric car, and they started showing up more than a hundred years ago.

In rural areas, wheeled transport needed to be a bit more rugged. One enterprising postmaster in Alberta rigged up a chain drive for his Model T, linking the wheels together and steering by way of moveable skis. It worked so well, the car functioned as the town's taxi during the long winter months.

Not commonly known now, the McLaughlin-Buick motor company can be celebrated for furthering Canada's link to the Monarchy. Samuel McLaughlin, heir to a large carriage-making company, founded his motor business and entered into a partnership with Buick.

Buick provided many of the engines, but these long, luxurious cars were designed and assembled in Canada, and one was used by Prince Edward on his 1927 tour of Canada. He was so impressed with it that he ordered a custom-made one to carry him and "a passenger" (Wallis Simpson) around London. Eventually, McLaughlin-Buicks would ferry around King George VI and Queen Elizabeth as well.

Because of restrictive Canadian importation laws, Canada often got vehicles that were mostly identical to United States marques, but were built here, occasionally under different branding. Examples include the Model T (ours had two doors), and the entire Meteor line (actually Fords).

We also got a different sort of Pontiac than our American cousins did, slightly smaller and built to a simpler spec. Apparently the RCMP's highway patrol would eventually get pursuit-specification versions of these with bigblock 429 V-8s and disc brakes all around.

Possibly because of large influxes of immigrants, Canada always seemed to be the test market for new foreign companies. The VW Beetle arrived on our shores in 1952, several years before they started showing up in the United States, and Volvo would eventually establish a factory here.

We loved both the rugged air-cooled Bug and the tough little Scandinavian cars. Volvos would be the cars of choice for some early Canadian rally drivers, built to a simplicity and durability that you don't really see today in any manufacturer.

Before the signing of the Canada-United States Automotive Products Agreement in 1965, Canada was full of automobile factories. Most were in Ontario, but there was a GM plant in the prairies before the Second World War, and that Volvo factory out in the Maritimes as well. Even after cross-border imports became more common, brands like Fargo and Studebaker soldiered on in Canada.

We also had our own unique automakers, with some really wild ideas. The Bricklin SV-1 was conceived by Malcolm Bricklin, who brought Subaru to America, as a safer alternative to the Corvette. Fitted with electrically-operated gullwing doors, it was built in New Brunswick.

Design issues relating to its fibreglass construction meant that it didn't make the grade, and the company went bankrupt in 1975. The SV-1 was never officially sold in Canada, but more than a few have made their way North, back home.

Another failure was the Manic GT. Built in Quebec, this fibreglass-bodied, rear-engined car was very similar to the successful Renault Alpine, and for a good reason. Renault had subcontracted a young Montrealer named Jacques About to see if the Alpine would sell well in Canada. The surveys said "Yes!" but Renault couldn't be bothered.

About decided to take things into his own hands, coming up with a lightweight design that offered inexpensive, durable performance. The Manic GT was based on the relatively simple Renault 8, and should have been a success. Regrettably, problems with the Renault supply chain meant that the company failed with just 160 built in total.

Today, Canadians assemble all sorts of machines from Chevy Camaros to Dodge Caravans, and we can buy cars like the Micra and the Orlando that the Americans can't get. We have some small domestic manufacturing that builds massive SUVs like the Knight XV, and of course the snowmobiles of Bombardier.

Then there's that Trans-Canada, a paved umbilicus linking the provinces since 1970. This summer, get out there and put a few of its 8,000 kilometres under your tires. You know Commander Hadfield would.

[email protected] @brendan_mcaleer