A performance machine does not need to make every journey faster to make it more memorable. Vanderhall’s open-air three-wheelers suggest another approach: change the relationship between the occupants and the road. The company’s Venice, with its exposed cockpit and unmistakable three-wheel silhouette, makes a useful case study. Its appeal begins before anyone reaches for a stopwatch.
That is the strongest idea behind the Vanderhall autocycle: involvement through exposure, rather than performance figures alone. But calling it a sports car with one wheel missing leaves out important distinctions. Using the early gasoline-powered Venice as our example, the interesting story involves familiar driving controls, unconventional packaging, and compromises that deserve as much attention as the spectacle.
Why Vanderhall Took the Unconventional Route
Vanderhall’s unusual layout was part of a broader attempt to make a small manufacturer viable. In a Business Schooled interview with Soraya Darabi, founder Steve Hall described starting with the Laguna and encountering resistance to its premium positioning. Dealers wanted a less expensive vehicle that could reach more customers.
That history gives the Venice a more interesting identity than simply “the strange one.” It represents an effort to preserve a distinctive experience while making the proposition less exclusive. Hall’s account also identifies the California-place-name theme behind Laguna, Venice, and Carmel. The names suggest leisure rather than lap records, an appropriate distinction for vehicles whose purpose is as much about the outing as the destination.
Seen that way, the design is not an argument that conventional sports cars are obsolete. It is an alternative set of priorities. Practicality and isolation are not the principal goals; making the journey feel like an occasion is.
Familiar Controls, Unfamiliar Packaging
The early Venice combined a steering wheel and side-by-side seating with a turbocharged gasoline powertrain and automatic transmission. Vanderhall’s 2018 owner’s manual is the appropriate operating reference for that model year—not a specification sheet for every subsequent Vanderhall.
The front-drive layout is particularly revealing. In Kristen Lee’s September 12, 2017 Venice review, Vanderhall marketing representative Daniel Boyer explained that the company wanted planted behavior rather than a machine defined by rear-wheel antics. The single rear wheel was therefore not the driven wheel.
There is a useful distinction here between visual drama and operating complexity. An automatic transmission does not make a vehicle disengaging by definition, just as an exposed cockpit does not guarantee excellent handling. Those are separate questions. Vanderhall’s proposition is that a driver can use recognizable controls while encountering an environment very different from an enclosed car. The novelty lies in the whole arrangement, not in demanding motorcycle-style operation.
Feeling Fast Is Not the Same as Measuring Fast
Lee’s period review offers a grounded description of that experience. She reported quick changes of direction and said the low seating position amplified the sensation of speed. Those are her observations from driving the Venice, not our own impressions and not instrumented proof of superiority over a four-wheel sports car. Her account also described discomfort around larger vehicles on the highway. Both sides belong in the assessment.
The editorial lesson is that acceleration and intensity should not be treated as interchangeable. A stopwatch records elapsed time; it cannot record how exposed an occupant feels. The script’s emphasis on wind, sound, and motion is therefore more useful than an unsupported claim that a Vanderhall must outperform conventional machinery.
Nor does “raw” have to mean primitive. In this context, the word is best understood as an interpretation of the experience, not a technical specification. A driver might welcome the lack of separation from the surroundings; another might find precisely the same quality tiring. Neither reaction needs to invalidate the other.
The Sports-Car Appearance Has Limits
The most consequential distinction appears near the beginning of Vanderhall’s 2018 Venice manual: the vehicle meets applicable federal motorcycle standards, not the federal standards applicable to passenger cars. The manufacturer also instructs occupants to wear helmets. Familiar seating and a steering wheel should not encourage assumptions about passenger-car protection.
This changes how the purchase should be considered. Exposure is not merely a styling benefit to be weighed against luggage space. It is part of the vehicle’s operating environment. The responsible question is not whether three wheels automatically make it safer than a motorcycle, or whether sporty handling makes it equivalent to a car. Neither conclusion follows from the layout.
Start with the manual for the exact vehicle, then establish the registration, licensing, insurance, and equipment requirements that apply where it will be used. An autocycle label is not a substitute for those checks.
A Legacy Roadster, Not a Fresh Announcement
The gasoline Venice also needs to be placed in its current context. Vanderhall now identifies it as a legacy model and directs interested buyers to its dealer network for remaining inventory, explicitly warning that availability is not guaranteed. An older driving review should not be read as evidence of a current factory order opportunity or a current transaction price.
For an existing example, use the manufacturer’s model-year-specific manual archive rather than assuming that specifications and equipment remained unchanged. That simple discipline keeps the vehicle’s genuinely unusual character from becoming an excuse for imprecise buying advice.
The enduring attraction is clear without declaring the Vanderhall the strangest—or the best—performance vehicle on the road. It offers an unusually direct invitation to treat driving as an activity rather than background transportation. The engineering and ownership compromises do not disappear when the wind arrives. Understanding them is what separates appreciating the concept from merely admiring the silhouette.
Cover: A white 2018 Vanderhall Venice carries participants in the Freedom Festival Grand Parade in Provo, Utah, on July 4, 2018. Photo: Ben P L / Wikimedia Commons. Photographer: https://www.flickr.com/people/88663091@N04. CC BY-SA 2.0: https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/. Indicate changes and license adaptations under the same or a compatible license. · Photo source · Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 2.0 Generic (CC BY-SA 2.0). Original photograph; WordPress may create display-size derivatives.
.jpg){kind=link}
.jpg#Licensing){kind=link}