Supercharging has interesting roots (pun intended) in the automotive world. The idea of pressure-feeding air into an engine for a car is only a few years younger than the automobile itself. The first production examples were available on Mercedes models in 1922, and it has only become more popular since. As with many examples of technology, there were some interesting attempts at supercharging that didn’t last and ended up on the side of the long road that is automotive history. One such example is the Latham axial flow supercharger.

Supercharging an engine relies on the crankshaft to drive on a compressor that forces air into the intake, effectively increasing the volumetric efficiency of the engine by cramming more air into the cylinders than it would pull in on its own during the vacuum created by the intake stroke. The most common forms of superchargers are centrifugal, roots, screw, and scroll. Before the market settled on the common types we’re familiar with today, there were several efforts to create the next best thing. Norman Latham of West Palm Beach, Florida, hoped his new product would be a must-have performance bolt-on.

Latham’s idea was to create an axial supercharger. This is essentially a turbine, where the supercharger housing contains “fans” that can create positive manifold pressure. Latham’s design went into production in 1956 and was sold until 1965. It was radically different than a roots or centrifugal supercharger, yet also combined a few of the better parts of each. A centrifugal supercharger was a bear to tune 70 years ago because carburetors were still the most popular way of mixing the air and fuel entering an engine.

Carburetors rely on the incoming air to pull in the fuel into the airstream from the float bowl. If the throat of the carburetor is under pressure rather than vacuum, that fuel draw doesn’t work very well. This made centrifugal superchargers finicky. Roots-style blowers could more effectively be set up to draw air through carburetors, but the size and location made packaging tough. Latham used the long and low design of the axial supercharger to put the blower low and further forward with the carbs off to the side, keeping a lower profile. The air and fuel are drawn in through two or four carbs, depending on the model, before being compressed through the turbine and then fed into the intake manifold.

The problem is that axial compressors tend to be less efficient than the more popular styles of supercharging. Their peak efficiency orrurs during a very narrow window and prefer steady-state running at that speed rather than changing RPM quickly like most automotive engines tend to do. It was a solution, but we know now that it was not the best solution.

The design still caught people’s attention though. After an eight-page spread in the June 1956 issue of Hot Rod things seemed to take off. Over 600 Latham superchargers were built and are now highly sought after. The company was sold in 1982 and transitioned to producing a modern interpretation of the axial design. The vintage units stand as an interesting reminder of the times when its innovation was almost as rapid as the cars it was going into.

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The Volkswagen Thing played many roles during its relatively brief lifespan: proto-SUV, funky runabout, oddball off-roader. But with a Beetle Type 1 driveline and a Transporter Type 2 suspension, VW’s so-called “Thing”—Type 181, internally—was nobody’s idea of a high-performance vehicle. That might have changed this past weekend when a car known as “Lunatic Fringe” debuted in unfinished form at the Grand National Roadster Show in Pomona, California.

Built at Ron Jones Garage, a premier hot-rod and restoration shop (and authorized Hagerty repair facility) in Windsor, Colorado, Lunatic Fringe is a VW Type 181 crossed with a Porsche 911. “Our vision was, this was what Porsche would have done it if had built the Thing,” says Gunnison Jones, the 24-year-old son of shop owner Ron Jones.

Instead of the asthmatic four-banger in a stock Thing, Lunatic Fringe gets an air-cooled Porsche 3.0-liter flat-six punched out to 3.2 liters and sprinkled with hot-rod fairy dust: lightweight rods and rockers, titanium valve hats, a custom-ground cam, even a full-on MoTeC wiring harness and ECU. The Porsche 911 bits include the front diff, sourced from a 996-generation 911 Turbo, and the transaxle, out of a 997-generation 911 Turbo.

To be honest, there’s not much original Thing in this beast. It looks less like a spunky, slab-sided VW than something you’d see crawling over boulders in King of the Hammers. “Every single panel on it except the windshield frame has been hand-built,” Jones says.

The truck rides on a stout chromoly tube frame fabricated by Colorado Sand Cars. The long-travel suspension incorporates Fox shocks and coilovers. The build features a host of billet pieces machined on a CNC mill and other components designed with Solidworks software. Inside a custom housing, eagle-eyed observers might recognize headlights out of a Polaris RZR.

Ironically, Lunatic Fringe doesn’t display evidence of Ron Jones’s main specialty—paint. The truck was displayed at Pomona in bare metal, sans doors, roof, spare tire, or even a finished interior. Its pair of old-school bucket seats were upholstered in a throwback three-tone fabric. When Lunatic Fringe officially debuts at the SEMA Show in November, it will be painted Robin’s Egg blue and fitted with custom wheels.

The project seems like an odd fit for a restoration shop that focuses on rods and customs; the builds showcased on the company website include a pair of pugnacious 1950 pickups, a vibrant 1953 Chevrolet Bel Air race car, and a stanced 1967 Chevy Nova SS packing a blown LS3. The Thing was parked at the Roadster Show next to another outlier that the Ron Jones Garage brought to Pomona: a stunning 1937 Type 57S Bugatti drophead coupe with a supercharged straight-eight and the sinuous, elegant coachwork emblematic of French coachbuilders of the era.

“They only made 12 of them, and this is one of two with Corsica bodies, and it’s the only one with a nickel finish,” Jones says. “This was the first pre-war car we’d ever done. It was also the first Pebble Beach [Concours d’Elegance] car.” No problem. In 2021, the Bugatti won its class at Pebble Beach and was the runner-up for Best of Show.

Still, Lunatic Fringe scratches a different itch—the hot rodder’s perennial quest for something totally different and unmistakably personal. “We tried to talk the customer out of the Porsche engine,” Jones admits. “I wanted to do something crazy like a turbo LS. But he had to have the air-cooled motor. So we ended up with something that’s super unique.”

There are plenty of Bugattis out there, even Type 57s. But there’s only one Porsche-powered Thing out on the “lunatic fringe.”

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One of the most memorable show rods in the custom car world has been unearthed and will be restored to its former glory by Galpin Motors’ Beau Boeckmann.

“Uncertain-T,” a wildly proportioned hot rod that debuted in 1965 and made the car show rounds for several years before falling off the map in the 1970s. The fiberglass-bodied car was built on a custom chassis by Steve Scott, who started the build in his parents’ garage when he was just 17 years old. Strangely enough, the car, which was built in Reseda, just a few miles from Galpin’s dealership headquarters in North Hills, California, was rediscovered nearby.

“This time, the Uncertain-T found me, I didn’t find it,” said Boeckmann, president and CEO of Galpin Motors. ”While this historic hot rod has been a worldwide phenomenon, with its whereabouts unknown for so many decades, I love that it was built and found in the San Fernando Valley right down the street from Galpin Ford.

“What makes it even more sentimental is the connection between the previous owner, Dick Nickerson, and my father, who all worked on the Mach IV four-engine Mustang Funny Car together in 1969.”

Started in 1960 and debuting in 1965, Uncertain-T was an immediate show-winner. Show promoters paid Scott to have the wild car on display at shows, knowing that it could draw a crowd. Its forward-canted cab looked like a cartoon come to life and its absurdity resonated with custom-car fans of all ages. It was on magazine covers, spawned tribute cars, and even became a Monogram 1/24-scale plastic model.

As with many of Beau Boeckmann’s historic hot-rod finds, the restoration will be managed by Galpin Speed Shop guru Dave Shuten, who will be tasked with returning the car to its show-winning 1965 configuration. While he certainly has his work cut out, the car appears to be rather complete: It still has a Buick Nailhead V-8 with mechanical fuel injection as it did when it debuted in 1965.

The restoration process will kick off this spring. In the meantime, the car will be presented in its as-found condition at the Grand National Roadster Show in Pomona, California from February 2–4 and at the Detroit Autorama from March 1–3. Hopefully, it will return to those venues in the near future looking as fresh as ever.

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You’ll run into all sorts of interesting cars in Wendover during Bonneville Speed Week. Naturally, there are race cars of every shape and size on the salt, but nearly as many interesting hot rods show up in town, their drivers there to pay respect to the hallowed racing ground nearby. We spotted this eye-catching Track T at a Speed Week car show and had to wait in line to talk to the car’s caretaker, Benny Bennett, to get the story on the race-inspired ride.

In the early 2000s, members of the Slo Poks Car Club, in Vancouver, Washington, helped fellow member and accomplished drag racer Nick Nicholson gather up the parts necessary to build the car. The concept was to create a street-driving version of the race car that Nicholson would have loved to have campaigned in the late 1950s or early ’60s, given the chance. The late land speed racer Bruce Geisler, a staple of Southern California Timing Association (SCTA) events for decades, was one of many who helped secure the right speed parts and decals to fit the late ’50s vibe.

Eventually, Nicholson retired from racing his other cars, and the roadster, which had been sitting for years, was difficult to climb into, anyway. Bennett told Nicholson that he’d relish the opportunity to be the car’s “caregiver” and ensured him it would stay true to his vision. Bennett, a 24-year member of the Slo Poks himself, took over that role in 2018. “I absolutely loved the car, the way it sits, how it looks,” Bennett explains. He’s not alone, as the roadster constantly had a group clustered around it in Wendover, admiring the details and asking questions. After purchasing the car, Bennett spent several months going through it and making it roadworthy.

Perhaps the roadster’s biggest draw is what’s under the hood. It wouldn’t be strange to see a 255-cube flathead V-8 powering a salt racer of the era, but this vintage flathead goes above and beyond with its induction and its cooling. A crank-driven 4-71 blower is mounted on its side in the nose of the car, where you’d normally expect to find a radiator. Driven 1:1 off the crankshaft, the blower pulls air through two Stromberg carbs on the driver’s side and pushes air and fuel out the passenger side and into a plenum that has two tubes, one feeding each cylinder bank of the V-8. The flathead uses an Isky cam and a set of ported Edelbrock heads to make better use of the boost.

Of course, with no radiator up front, Nicholson had to get crafty with the cooling system. The V-8’s water pumps are turned around to move water to the back of the car, where a trunk-mounted aluminum radiator kicks out the heat. From there, an electric pump pushes water forward to the engine. Even with 14 gallons of coolant in the system and a more modern radiator, the arrangement isn’t perfect, but Bennett has modified it to be more effective than its original iteration, which was what led to the car sitting for so long before his acquisition.

Now that the bugs have been worked out, Bennett can drive the roadster, even in the Arizona heat of Lake Havasu City, where he has relocated since the purchase. In the summer, the car can reach 185 degrees. “It’s pretty warm for a flathead,” Bennett admits. “This one’s been cooked a couple of times.” When he takes the car out, its racy nature naturally has onlookers asking how fast it is, but Bennett isn’t concerned with finding that answer. Rather, he’s more interested in “holding onto a piece of my car brotherhood history.” Besides that, the powerful flathead would probably get itself into overheating trouble if it were asked to go wide-open for miles at a time. “I don’t drive it like I stole it,” Bennett says. That doesn’t mean that it’s not fun, however. “It’s very visceral and straightforward. Lots of feedback.”

Passersby are naturally drawn to the engine, but Nicholson also put some ingenious engineering into the suspension. Both front and rear use torsion bars, pirated from a pair of Mopars. The torsion bars make for compact packaging and would have been cutting edge for the early ’60s racer this car was built to embody. The torsion bar connects to the radius rods, and you can spot it in the photo above; it’s the polished rectangular bar.

Bennett says that the car was an expensive paperweight for a few years, that it puked out all its coolant on the mile-long drive to his home after he bought it, and that even after some tinkering and problem-solving, it can be temperamental. Still, he has no regrets. “I want to tell the story,” Bennett says, and be a good steward while it’s in his possession. “A lot of times, cars like this get sold and the mission is lost. Nick’s goal was for people to look at the car and be able to reminisce on that era of racing,” says Bennett. It has succeeded in that regard. Although he’s had offers to purchase the car, he’s still enjoying being its caretaker, but eventually he hopes to pass it along to someone who shares the passion for preserving this homage to land speed racing’s past. Until then, Bennett will keep bringing the roadster to Speed Week, where he hopes to get out on the racing surface this year, get some salt in his teeth, and enjoy the car as it was meant to be.

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The post This Retro Model T Roadster Captures the Spirit of Salt Racing appeared first on Hagerty Media.

Sometimes I enjoy challenging my co-workers here at Hagerty Media to come up with a radical notion for the next installment of Our Two Cents. More to the point, I think this one is a high watermark for the series.  The question is, what’s the perfect Frankenstein car?

We all remember the character from Mary Shelley’s famous novel: an elegant, intelligent, and humble creation born from the mind of Victor Frankenstein is not unlike many of the “frankensteined” restomods you will see below from our staff. Except Frankenstein’s Monster went off the rails and eventually disappeared from sight, another notion that you, dear reader, might wish upon our creations. Especially the last one. 

Hellcat-swapped, Chrysler Imperial Frank Sinatra edition

I wanted to see what my co-workers would come up with if I told them that money was no object and their hearts were free to do whatever the heck they wanted. To get the ball rolling, I threw out three examples:

• Hellcat-powered Frank Sinatra Edition Chrysler Imperial
• Coyote-powered Jaguar XJ
• Delorean with a Tesla swap

Guess which one I truly wanted? I think The Chairman of the Board would approve of my take on his baby blue-hued rolling tribute to “Rat Packing” at its finest. Considering that this Imperial (J-platform) traces its roots all the way back to Chrysler’s famous A-platform, it wouldn’t be too hard to Hellcat-swap it like a proper 1960s muscle car. It’s been done before, but perhaps I am overselling the ease of the swap.

No matter, that’s what I want, and Frankenstein’s Monster is gonna do it my way, baby. 

Cummins-swapped Rolls-Royce Phantom II

Video Director Matt Tuccillo took my budget-exempt question to a logical extreme. What’s the most luxurious vehicle out there, with a front end worthy of a Mack Truck, and doesn’t it need a diesel engine by that extension? Or as he put it:

“A lovely marriage of high-brow/low-brow and a way to roll coal with a level of civility when leaving the local country club. Champagne flutes in the back reserved exclusively for use with High Life, of course, to keep the theme going. And it has to be the Phantom II, so I have Apple CarPlay too.”

LS-swap Mosler Consulier

In contrast, our Special Projects Editor Steven Cole Smith made a simple request: “I’d like a V-8 in my Consulier, but it would probably double the weight.” He’s close, as 270-290 pounds is needed for the Consulier’s 2.2-liter Chrysler turbo mill, while 460 pounds is needed for an LS-1.

2JZ-swapped Volvo P1800

Executive Editor Eric Weiner shows Volvo some love, with a 2JZ-swapped P1800. He’d put the power down with KW coilovers, keep it flowing with an Akrapovic exhaust, and stop it all with a modern brake package. I too like wasabi-infused meatballs, Eric!

Vortec L52-swapped third-gen Camaro

Associate Editor Chris Stark really knocked my socks off with this request: a Vortec L52 five-cylinder (from a mid-2000s Chevy Colorado) with a big turbo, slapped into a 3rd-generation Camaro. Or as he put it, “the idea of Group B Quattro sounds coming from a Camaro makes me giggle.”

Miata-swap MG MGA

Hagerty Media Editor Kyle Smith is almost logical in his line of thinking. Well, at least compared to the rest of us:

“I’ve been thinking a lot about the ’69 Austin Healey I let go two years ago, so your question leads me to think I really need to follow through on my plan to Miata swap an MGA. It’d be turn-key reliable, have great parts support, sport nice five-speed transmission, and possess classic style to spare. It’s not a ground-breaking swap, so I actually stand a chance of finishing it and enjoying a lot of miles behind the wheel.”

K20C1 (Civic Type-R) swapped fifth-gen Honda Prelude

Hagerty Media Writer Matthew Fink keeps it brand loyal with a fantastic motor and a stunning machine from Honda. He wants a last-generation Honda Prelude (1996–2001) up-fitted to a “Type R” spec for modern times:

“Instead of the 200-hp motor, it would have something like the Civic Type R’s turbocharged mill 306-hp engine, 6-speed, a small functional hood scoop, upgraded brakes, and definitely a rear windshield wiper (because all cars are cooler with a rear windshield wiper). Boom, instant collectible.

Sorry I guess that’s not too Frankenstein-y, more of just a dream.”

Incorrect, Matt! This is exactly the kind of Frankensteining we want to see.

Prius-powered Ferrari 250 SWB

Managing Editor Stefan Lombard takes us to new levels of Frankensteining. Perhaps he said it best:

“I’d sawzall the top off of a Ferrari 250 SWB, add thick duct tape racing stripes, and fit it with a Prius powertrain. Uncommon style and earth-loving mobility all in one.”

Coyote-swapped 1969 Plymouth Roadrunner

Senior Editor Brandan Gillogly asks us to consider a 1969 Roadrunner with a Coyote V-8 swap. No, not the iconic Coyote Duster air cleaner on a 426 Hemi. He wants you to embrace the idea of a Ford 5.0-liter Coyote V-8 in said Mopar muscle car. Wow.

And I’m done, as I cannot top Brandan’s “Coyote Roadrunner” with a witty comment. See you all next time, on our next episode of Our Two Cents!

The post Our Two Cents: The perfect Frankenstein car? appeared first on Hagerty Media.

Welcome to Homegrown—a limited series about homebuilt cars and the ingenuity, diligence, and craftsmanship of their visionary creators. Know of a killer Homegrown car that fits the bill? Send us an email at tips@hagerty.com with the subject line HOMEGROWN: in all caps. Enjoy, fellow tinkerers! -Eric Weiner

Every now and again, some automaker will construct the odd twin-engine car for racing (1935 Alfa Romeo Bimotore), limited production (1958 Citroen 2CV 4×4 Sahara), or auto-show spectacle (2005 Jeep Hurricane). But a car powered by THREE engines? That’s something else.

Unbridled curiosity is part of what motivated Jim Noble of Azalia, Michigan, to spend 15 painstaking years constructing the show-grade homebuilt featured here. This retired truck fleet owner calls his creation “666,” not because he’s a devil worshipper but because the moniker most succinctly sums up what propels his rad pickup.

Introduced in 1929 as the “six for the price of a four,” Chevy’s “Stovebolt” six had a long and fruitful life. After engineers perfected its combustion process, it proudly wore a Blue Flame ID label celebrating what shot out the exhaust ports.

Noble gave his engines an 0.030-inch overbore to increase displacement from 235.5 to 239.5 cubic inches per block, achieving an awesome 718.4 cubic inch total. Fitted with dual-carburetor intake manifolds, tubular headers, and mild Isky cams, this 18-cylinder team delivers 550 horsepower by Noble’s estimate. Not to mention enough torque to rotate the Earth on its axis.

The center six stands tall, while the two outboard engines are each canted 22.5 degrees to make space for intake and exhaust manifolds. Among the premier virtues of any inline-six is the impeccable smoothness and balance inherent to its design. At idle, the Noble trio growls and whirs more like an angry electric motor than any automobile engine. Motorcycle drive chains tie the outboard engines to the center mill’s crankshaft, which spins a Hydramatic 700R4 automatic transmission. One cylinder fires every 40 degrees of center crank rotation. When the six Carter-Weber throttles are blipped, torque gushes forth like water from a fractured dam. Because stealth was not a Noble priority, his six-pack of exhaust pipes wears restrictors but no mufflers.

“My rectangular steel tubing frame provides ample torsional and bending stiffness,” Noble explains. “A step at the front accommodates rack-and-pinion steering and my unequal-length control arm suspension equipped with QA1 adjustable gas-pressure dampers. The rear axle carries a heavy-duty Dana 70HD 4.56:1 motorhome differential equipped with an Eaton E-Locker limited-slip, and there are four trailing links and a Panhard rod.”

A substantial disc brake sits at every corner. The front tires are Cooper radials size 205/65R-15, while the towering rear meats are 455/55R-22.5 Michelins originally intended for semi-truck use. Their cost: $1000 apiece.

666’s handsome grille and cab began life in the same 1954 Chevy pickup truck that contributed one engine to this cause. “I chopped six inches out of the top and four inches from the cab’s bottom to help the engines dominate my custom’s presentation,” says Noble. His homemade cargo box carries a scratch-built 24-gallon fuel cell. The massive aluminum radiator is another prime example of quality craftsmanship; Noble sprayed the Martin Senour base-coat clear-coat paint in a patriotic scheme he conceived at the beginning of this project.

Inside, comfortable bucket seats straddling a massive transmission tunnel are supported by the sheet-steel floor pan. A hinged moon roof brightens the mood and G-Force 5-point racing belts hold the driver and passenger in check.  The 2-foot-long shift lever also came from the Chevy pickup donor. The skull knob topping it a period piece from the 1950s hot-rodding era.

After warming his engine cadre, Noble brake torques 666 to light its rear tires. Because the crankshafts in these sixes are supported by only four main bearings, he’s hesitant to top 5000 rpm. Thanks to the 0.69:1 overdrive ratio in the transmission’s top gear, that modest redline is still enough to hustle this rod to a theoretical 190 mph.

The view through 666’s windshield is like peering between Manhattan skyscrapers. Noble sacrificed three windshields  to the fabrication gods before successfully trimming to fit without cracking. Given that there are only 40 miles on the odometer since departing the fabrication bay, the 666’s acceleration runs during our thrilling ride-along were limited to quarter-throttle. Following our test sprint, Noble shared his prize at the revived Meguiar’s Detroit Autorama held in March of this year.

Asked what he’s got invested in 666, Noble admits to keeping receipts for purchased parts but never adding them up. Nor did he log the thousands of hours spent here. “Thankfully my wife Cindy is all-in,” Noble emphasizes. “Maybe that’s because we’re both horse aficionados. I pursue horsepower through internal combustion and she competes in equestrian dressage with her Belgian Warmblood Adonis.”

Adonis being a figure of Greek mythology associated with death and rebirth, we pronounce this hot rod born from three Stovebolts legendary indeed.

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What vehicle comes to mind when you imagine a hot rod? Some conjure up an image of a ’32 Ford coupe, others may go to a drag-race-prepped gasser, while others have an entirely different image that’s far from the norm. That’s the beauty of hot rods; they are entirely up to the builder to define. Here are five hot rods from Hagerty’s Marketplace that you could drive as-is or make your own. If one of the following vehicles made its way into your garage, what would you do with it?

1927 Ford Model T Roadster

Asking price: $20,000

This track-nosed T roadster is powered by a 2.8-liter V-6 pirated from a Capri. While it doesn’t have is the V-8 soundtrack; there’s not much metal to move around here. We’re sure it more than gets out of its own way. We especially love how the frame and body blend together nearly seamlessly, and the DuVall-style windshield is a great look for such a sleek, low ride. It features some fabulous scallops, but the color choice is a little too subdued in our opinion. Our very own Sajeev Mehta, brown car aficionado that he is, may argue that it’s a lovely rootbeer float of a combination, but we think that a racy roadster needs something a bit bolder.

1929 Ford Model A Roadster

Asking price: $32,000

This rather monotone roadster might not be an original Model A, but it is steel. Brookville bodies have a great reputation among hot-rodders, and this one looks fantastic. It has a ’32 grille shell and, hiding under those full fenders, is an independent front suspension. Its Chevy TPI V-8 dates it a bit, as those were the hot swap when those unique-looking engines were new in the ’80s and ’90s, but the overall package is still quite appealing. We’re sure that torquey engine would be a blast in such a small package.

1930 Ford Model A Sedan

Asking price: $17,500

A Ford Model A with a flathead V-8 is a quintessential hot rod. While a coupe or roadster would look racier, this sedan has a real Ford steel body, a ’32 grille shell, and a ’53 Ford flathead V-8 with a trio of what look like Holey 94 carbs atop an Edelbrock manifold. That’s not a bad collection of parts at all. It has an interesting look with its swoopy fiberglass front fenders, but it could also be the start of something entirely different. We see lots of potential here.

1956 Chevrolet 210

Asking price: $60,000

Tri-five Chevys make fantastic hot rods, and this traditionally flamed two-door certainly looks the part, almost like it rumbled in off the set of American Grafitti. The yellow and orange flames lick down the black body, and there are no emblems, trim pieces, or door handles to distract from the car’s clean lines. Of course, a hot rod needs plenty of performance, and this ’56 delivers there as well. Under the hood, you’ll find a Chevy 454 big-block decked out in chrome and topped with an Edelbrock intake manifold. That’s a lot more engine than any factory ’56 ever had.

1992 Jeep Cherokee

Asking price: $32,500

You probably didn’t expect to see a Jeep Cherokee in a list of hot rods, but when we were browsing through the Marketplace and came across this V-8 swapped machine we couldn’t deny that the hot rod label applies. This two-door Cherokee ditched its factory inline-six for a Chevy LS2 V-8 to more than double its power. Considering how light these unibody Jeeps are, 400 hp should be quite fun. The owner notes that the SUV spent most of its life in California and therefore wasn’t subjected to road salt, keeping the undercarriage from rotting away. If you’ve got an itch for a unique off-road plaything, this XJ might be the one for you.

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Bobby writes:

I have a stock 1930 model A, nicely restored. I love the wire wheels, but when I want to show it as a hot rod, nobody can tell me if there is any Mag or chrome style wheel that will bolt right up. Looks like an easy five-hole swap to me. So many confusing answers out there. None have really helped. What’s your take on it?

Sajeev answers:

It is indeed an easy swap, as the Model A uses the 5-on-5.5-inch bolt pattern shared with a several generations of the Ford F-series and older Jeeps. The only confusing part of this answer is the sheer volume of wheels available at your disposal. Because of the Model A’s simplistic body/brakes/suspension, most any narrow-width Ford truck wheel (7-inch wide or less) in any offset should both work fine and not visually drown out the Model A’s modest dimensions. A tape measure for offset calculations never hurts, but there’s a lot of wiggle room on a Model A.

One last notion remains, and that’s the matter of taste: if you’re gonna take in another “confusing answer” from the Internet, may I recommend the 15×7-inch alloy wheels from a 1992 Ford Econoline? Of course, I’m kidding … even though I’d roll in a Model A “Chateau” to a car show harder than a Time Out Doll rocks their denim overalls. 

Fact is, you don’t take the advice from a 1980–90s Ford Collector (with his own advice column) very seriously. Luckily a far more rational member of my team owns a Model A, and he recommended getting Jeep GPW wheels. In his words:

“Personally, we had a few sets of Jeep steel wheels from GPW-era stuff that looked pretty cool, and they’re ‘period correct’ hot-rod style. It’s just a basic steel wheel though … but GPWs are also 5 x 5.5-inches.”  — Kyle Smith 

Kyle is definitely on to something. I would do 16-inch GPW steel wheels, paint-to-match the body, add chrome beauty rings, and finish it off with a beefy set of chrome lug nuts. That’d be sweet—a perfect blend of hot-rod style in my book. Clearly, Kyle did a better job than yours truly, but what’s your take on this question, Hagerty Community? 

Have a question you’d like answered on Piston Slap? Send your queries to pistonslap@hagerty.com, give us as much detail as possible so we can help! Keep in mind this is a weekly column, so if you need an expedited answer, please tell me in your email.

The post Piston Slap: A Hot-Rod wheel for a stock Model A? appeared first on Hagerty Media.

The Omaha Coupe, as it has come to be known, has a long history of land-speed and drag racing throughout the United States thanks to a handful of hot-rodding clubs in and around Omaha, Nebraska. The car has used various engines, suspensions, and paint schemes over the course of its racing career, but it has been out of the spotlight and off the streets and race tracks of America for more than 50 years.

Here’s how some very determined hot-rodders brought it back.

In 1990, Tommy Secora and his high-school friend were riding their bikes through an alley in Omaha and came across a ’33 Ford coupe that stopped them in their tracks. The car was built to race, with a drastically chopped top, laid-back windshield posts, and a deck lid chock-full of louvers. The coupe sat in a garage, but as best Secora could tell, no one had been working on it recently. On a return trip, the pair saw that the coupe was out of the garage and parked in the alley. On their fifth trip, the car was gone—but Secora wouldn’t forget it.

In 2005, married and finally with some garage space of his own, Secora sought out the car from the alley. He visited the home where he’d seen the coupe, knocked on the door, and asked the current owner if she knew who owned the place back in 1990. Unfortunately, she had just bought the house. She put Secora in touch with the property’s previous owner to see if they could help. That led to a dead end; that owner was at least one more link away from the family that owned the Ford coupe.

Undeterred, Secora visited the county assessor and found that the family’s name was Thomas. “It might as well have been Smith,” he says. Even exasperated, he had to chase down the lead. “I went to the phone book and went through every Thomas that had an old-school address.” He wrote hand-written letters asking if they were the Thomas family who owned the coupe back in the early ’90s. No replies.

The trail went cold.

Months later, one of Secora’s family friends who lived in same Omaha neighborhood found an old roll of film, had it developed, and discovered it was from 1957. The photos included 20 or so shots from that year’s Bonneville Speed Week, an annual drag-racing competition held on the salt-encrusted bed of an ancient lake. (That event, and others, are still held today.) The shots revealed the coupe, its 1957 Chevy tow vehicle, and its race team—but no luck. Even with new-found information, Secora wasn’t able to get any new leads.

Unable to find his dream car, Secora bought a ’32 three-window Ford coupe from a friend. It was a serious project—the car needed a roof and a door, among other things. Even so, another buyer, Gene Morgan, persistently offered to buy it from him. Secora told Morgan that the car really wasn’t for sale, but that he would consider trading it for a ’33 or ’34 coupe, “preferably chopped so hard you can’t get your arm out the door.”

In 2019, Morgan found an unchopped Ford coupe. This car had solid floors and was missing its doors, but the cowl was intact; there was enough left to start a project to clone the coupe of Secora’s dreams. Would Secora still make the trade?

By the 2000-teens, additional period photos of the Omaha Coupe had surfaced on various forums online. On a whim, Secora asked Morgan if he knew about it. Not only did Morgan know about the Omaha racer, but for the last six years, he’d been talking to the family that owned it. Morgan was eager to buy it but, if he ever persuaded the Powers to give up the car, he’d be willing to sell.

“Well, I’m your buyer,” Secora told him. He explained to Morgan his decades-long search for the car. The two teamed up. Secora told the Omaha Coupe’s family his story and made a case that he’d give the car the treatment it deserved.

In September of 2020, Secora got word that the Powers were ready to sell. Secora’s friend bought the Omaha Coupe, and Secora traded his ’34 project for the long-sought hot rod. A 30-year search had come to an end.

The origins of the Omaha Coupe

Through the course of his research, and after meeting with the surviving members of the Jacks car club, which raced the car in the ’50s, Secora has been able to piece together quite a bit about the history of the coupe. Going back as far as he could, Secora learned that Don Chase bought the 1933 Ford coupe in the early ’50s for about $5 because it had front-end damage.

Chase didn’t remember to whom he sold the car, but it was likely Bob Hartwell, who had worked at Chet Herbert Cams in California before moving to Omaha in the early ’50s. (Chet Herbert’s shop was one of the first to develop aftermarket roller lifters and matching camshafts for American V-8s. Roller cams lift valves faster than a traditional, flat-tappet design, thus allowing an engine to breathe more efficiently and make more power.) Hartwell had rumbled into town driving a hot-rodded ’40 Ford that would soon lend its Oldsmobile V-8—a fabled street-racing engine—to his newly acquired ’33 coupe.

The coupe was in Hartwell’s possession when it went under the knife, its roof receiving a nine-inch chop. Since Hartwell had lived in California, he was likely inspired by the Pierson Brothers coupe, an iconic racer that also featured a radically shortened roof. For two years, the car raced as part of the Undertakers car club before Hartwell started the Jacks in 1955, taking the coupe with him. Hartwell had already earned a reputation as the owner of one of Omaha’s fastest cars with his Olds-powered 1940 Ford. The local hot-rodders running flatheads—a far more primitive engine design—simply couldn’t keep up. It’s unclear exactly when Hartwell swapped the Olds V-8 into the chopped, ’33 coupe, but the record is clear on the result: With the burly V-8 in an even lighter package, the “Omaha Coupe” became a fearsome racer.

Not long after, rumor has it that Hartwell ran afoul of the local constabulary for running amok on the streets in the Omaha Coupe. He left town, leaving the coupe in the hands of fellow Jacks club members—minus that big, bad, Oldsmobile V-8 engine. Howdy Williams bought the car from Hartwell. Williams, along with fellow Jacks member Bob Sugar, bought a Chevy 265 Chevy crate engine from a Chevy dealership. They ran that engine in the coupe in 1956, including a trip to Bonneville when they did not compete. By the time the Jacks had returned to the salt flats in 1957, Williams had purchased the Oldsmobile mill from Hartwell and reinstalled it in the coupe. Unfortunately, the Olds crankshaft was not happy with the engine’s overall state of tune and the fact that it was running on nitromethane. It went to pieces during Speed Week 1957.

Not long after its Bonneville mishap, the coupe was sold to Bill Hanna from the Omaha Rebels car club. One of the Omaha Rebels worked at or adjacent to the city works department and “procured” some Omaha Orange paint, a shade that still adorns the city’s fleet of dump trucks to this day. The coupe was repainted and became the Orange Crate, which was flat-towed to drag strips across the Great Plains.

As far as Secora’s research reveals, Gary Sheer was the car’s next owner. Sheer used Olds power in the coupe while he owned it, from 1961 until the mid-1960s when he left to serve in Vietnam. At some point along the way, Sheer sprayed gray primer over its orange paint. Secora isn’t sure how many more times the coupe changed hands, but not long after Sheer sold the car, Rick Powers—of the same family through whom Secora would finally buy the car—discovered it at a service station in Benson, Nebraska, on the northwest side of Omaha, in 1970. A hot-rod collector had already come across the car. He had bought some of the most desirable speed parts, including the Kinmont brakes, but passed on buying the rest of the beat-up old racer.

Rick Powers, who was just 10 years old when the high-schoolers in his neighborhood were building the Omaha Coupe, bought the car in 1970 and took it to the garage in the alley, where a teenage Tommy Secora would come across it for the first time twenty years later. (Secora’s original trail had gone cold because Powers rented, rather than owned, the garage and the house attached to it. The elusive “Thomas” was Power’s landlord.)

Powers put a slightly newer Olds V-8 into the coupe and swapped the cut, welded, recut, and rewelded ’33 chassis for a ’32 frame that was in a lot better shape. He worked for an airline and moved at least five times, taking the car with him each time, eventually moving his family and his coupe to San Antonio, Texas. He never found the time to give the Omaha Coupe the attention it needed to get back on the road and on the race track. Eventually, health concerns forced Powers to sell the prize of his collection. He passed away in 2022 at the age of 78.

The strange repetition of the cycle isn’t lost on Secora. “I’m just a caretaker,” he says. In the many videos he publishes documenting his process of rebuilding the Omaha Coupe, Secora doesn’t hide his struggles or his mistakes. “I hope some kid is watching … if just one of those videos changes one kid’s perspective on building something … all this BS is worth it.”

For now, one thing is certain: The Omaha Coupe is back where it belongs.

Check out the Hagerty Media homepage so you don’t miss a single story, or better yet, bookmark it.

The post Retired for 50 years, Nebraska’s storied Omaha Coupe returns to the streets appeared first on Hagerty Media.

Ringbrothers, the Spring Green, Wisconsin custom-car builder, has unveiled its latest creation—a bespoke 1964.5 Ford Mustang convertible known as “Caged.” The design objective was to evolve and modernize the original Mustang’s lines while honoring the aesthetic of Ford’s original pony car. The result, the Ring brothers say, is an icon of the 20th century with the technology of the 21st.

Born from an original, 1964.5 Mustang convertible, nearly every component is a Ringbrothers-built one-off; the only factory Mustang parts are the center caps for the wheels. The Ringbrothers team did extensive metalwork converting the Roadster Shop Fast Track chassis back into a unibody, as well as widening and lengthening the bodywork by one inch. The BASF Glasurit “Burgundy Brave” finish was then applied.

“The client was highly involved in the process and adamant on maintaining a subtle, stock-like appearance,” says Ringbrothers co-owner Mike Ring. “Everything was cued off the Mustang’s original design, but we sharpened the lines and added a number of 3D-printed details to make it truly unique.”

“Every piece of this car has been touched and updated with the original design cues in mind, down to the iconic Mustang taillight bezels, gas cap, and running horse emblems,” says Ringbrothers co-founder Jim Ring. “There’s a lot of nuances that went into the design, and we’re proud of that aspect of the build. Only the expert eye will be able to discern the subtlety of the differences.”

The new front grille is set back two inches and feeds air into a Ford Performance 5.0-liter Coyote V-8, mated to a Ford 10-speed automatic transmission. The suspension uses Penske Racing Shocks coilovers front and rear, an independent rear suspension, and a set of Baer Brakes for stopping power.

“In all, more than 4200 hours were invested in bringing ‘Caged’ to life,” says Jim Ring.

We’d be happy with just one behind the wheel.

The post “Caged” latest Mustang build from Ringbrothers’ stable appeared first on Hagerty Media.

Jack writes:

How about a “guide” on how to add power steering to a 1960s Dodge Power Wagon?

Sajeev answers:

Well then! Perhaps this is a good time to talk about a conversion to electric power steering?

The benefits of these systems over traditional hydraulic systems are plentiful: no accessory drive modifications, no extra hoses, and there’s often no chassis/suspension modifications needed. The vast majority of changes happen between the steering column and the steering box (or rack, depending on application). While high-performance purists may disapprove of the feedback offered, let’s hope that particular concern is irrelevant in your average Dodge Power Wagon.

We’ve previously discussed the conversion using Toyota and GM donor cars, but universal applications are available and might make this primer a little easier to cover. While not germane to your era of Power Wagon, all vehicles should be converted to run on 12-volt electrical systems first.

Be it junkyard parts or a pre-engineered kit, the high level overview of this conversion starts with installing the power assist motor between the steering column and the steering box/rack, finding a home for the computer, and wiring it all up neatly under the hood and behind the dashboard. Of course I am not gonna ramble on about the details, as this video explains the process pretty well.

But this is not applicable to Jack’s power wagon, and I have yet to find a drop-in conversion for his Dodge. Instead of trying to explain how this could be implemented in his rig, how about proof that a video is indeed worth a thousand words?

And if that video is too much labor to make it all work, how about converting to an aftermarket steering column with provisions for electric power steering?

While I would love to install a junkyard power steering kit on the factory steering system on a vintage Dodge truck, kits like this one from Ididit are likely to make it a whole lot easier. Ididit is known for making its steering columns work for any vintage vehicle, so contact the company if so inclined.

But which option is the right one for you, dear reader? Kinda irrelevant for me to guess,; the point I’m making is that you have options. I’d never dissuade someone with the time and technical skills to DIY this with junkyard parts, and I’d encourage everyone to buy an engineered kit to support a company that supports our diverse hobby. I just wish to steer (sorry) everyone into making this conversion a reality for their manually-assisted vintage vehicle, so just do it.

Have a question you’d like answered on Piston Slap? Send your queries to pistonslap@hagerty.com, give us as much detail as possible so we can help! If you need an expedited resolution, make a post on the Hagerty Community!

The post Piston Slap: A Primer on electric power steering upgrades? appeared first on Hagerty Media.

Seeing a Ford Transit at the Goodwood Festival of Speed is, on its own, nothing remarkable. How else would all the chairs and tents and displays get there, to say nothing of the mechanics’ tools and race marshals’ safety equipment? This year, however, spectators at Goodwood were treated to the sight of a Transit in a different kind of action, blitzing up the hill on a surge of all-electric power.

Boasting four electric motors for a total of 1973 hp, the Ford Electric SuperVan is capable of getting to 60 mph in under two seconds. With Le Mans winner Romain Dumas at the wheel, it made short work of Goodwood’s hillclimb. Naturally, you may be wondering why the Blue Oval crammed so much performance into a cargo van. You may also be surprised it isn’t even Ford’s first go-round with a SuperVan.

2000PS Ford Electric SuperVan flies up the #FOS Hill.

We think @forduk have taken everyone by surprise with how incredible this thing is. Just look at it. That aero similar to the Ford GT is sublime. #FordSuperVan #EV #gw_ford pic.twitter.com/UfuLDsmRmq

— Goodwood Road&Racing (@GoodwoodRRC) June 23, 2022

For starters, it bears mentioning that while the Ford Transit badge has made it across the Atlantic into North America, the van’s European reputation hasn’t yet made the trip. Americans likely associate the Transit with the plumber that comes to fix your sink. Across the pond, Transits are likewise the tools of tradespeople, a tradition dating back to the mid-1960s. Brits in particular are familiar with an archetype known as “white-van man,” characterized by an overalls-wearing fellow in a white Transit with a ladder strapped to its roof. “White-van man” sits three inches off your rear bumper at eighty-five miles per hour on the freeway. The U.K. may be full of Astons, Jaguars, and Bentleys, but no nameplate is driven with greater ferocity than a working Ford van.

Perhaps as a nod to these working-stiff wheelmen, Ford has periodically dabbled in building its own hot-rod SuperVan. The concept is always simple: Van go fast—really fast. This new electrified version is just the latest iteration, following a trail blazed by these four predecessors.

Supervan 1: Delivery-spec GT40

The original Transit debuted in October of 1966. In the same year, Ford broke Ferrari’s winning streak at Le Mans with a Mk II GT40. You can see where this is going.

The idea of a super Transit can be traced back to a couple of freewheeling Ford apprentices at a company trade school in 1971. Students managed to stuff a V-8 into the space where a Transit’s V-6 would normally go, and got it roaring around at a trade show. A Ford publicity exec clocked the admiring crowds and promptly called up an engineer named Terry Drury.

Drury had first-hand experience with the GT40, having personally raced one in the 1967 British Sportscar Championship. Under strict instruction to keep the build looking as much like an ordinary Transit as possible, he lowered the entire bodyshell of a van over the chassis of a GT40.

The engine was a 4.0-liter V-8 with Gurney-Westlake heads and was good for an estimated 435 hp. That’s over four hundred horsepower, in 1971, in a massive steel box. Some Jaguar suspension parts went into the build, but Supervan 1 was otherwise not much more than a tuned-up GT40 that could haul around staggering number of toilet plungers.

Add in cartoonishly wide tires on 15-inch wheels, and Supervan 1 resembled a BBC cartoon for children. But this was no toy; owing to the GT40-sourced five-speed ZF gearbox, the first Supervan would do over 100 mph in second gear with a theoretical top speed of 168 mph. It sounded like Le Mans, went like hell, and looked like a window-cleaning service.

Obviously, everyone loved seeing this thing leaning over in the corners and squatting under acceleration. The V-8 thrust was sufficient to lift one of the front wheels when powering out of a corner. First shown at a race event at Thruxton in the U.K., the Supervan had a long career as a demonstrator. It even made it to the Nürburgring, where it laid down a 9 minute, 13 second demonstration lap time, faster than some of the actual competitors there to race.

Popular as it was, the Supervan’s GT40 components proved too valuable in the end. It was broken for parts some time in the late 1970s.

Supervan 2: Greatness built on failure

A key figure in making sure the original Supervan happened was former BMC competition manager Stuart Turner. Turner was trained as an accountant, but he was a racer through and through. He was present all through the golden era of Mini rallying and won three national-level co-driving championships. Ford made him director of motorsport in 1970 but then sent him to run the public affairs department. By 1983, Turner was back running motorsport for Ford of Europe. Supervan 2 came out one year later.

While the first Supervan owned that quintessential, built-in-a-shed British charm, Supervan 2 took a more modern approach. A design group called Auto Racing Technology consulted on the project; these were the same engineers that helped Ford create the mighty RS200.

One of the two engineers that made up Auto Racing Technology was Tony Southgate. Southgate had previously been called in to consult on the Ford C100, a Group C car made to challenge the Porsche 956 in the same way the GT40 took on Ferrari. He reportedly wasn’t very impressed with the C100, and neither was Turner. The latter canned the C100 program as one of his first actions upon assuming control of Ford motorsports in 1983. So the C100 wouldn’t work at Le Mans; could it work as a van?

Supervan 2 was 7/10ths the scale of a road-going Transit, its body built of aluminum sheeting and fiberglass. The monocoque was aluminum and carbon fiber, and the mechanical parts were straight from the C100, including a 590-hp Cosworth-built V-8.

Apart from the grille and the overall shape, Supervan 2 was a more radical reimagining of what a Transit could be. However, the top speed wasn’t a guess this time. At Silverstone, it was successfully run up to 176 mph. It was parked in a museum relatively shortly thereafter, but it wasn’t the end of the story …

SuperVan 3: The fastest-ever mail van

In 1994, Ford launched a facelift for the Transit, which was still only in its second generation. Seeking some positive publicity, the idea to dig the old Supervan 2 out of mothballs, and breathe new life into it, gained favor.

On the outside this amounted to little more than a visual re-skin, with a new nose and doors grafted on to what was basically the same van (the v in SuperVan was now capitalized). The powertrain, on the other hand, was straight-up Formula 1 hardware: a Cosworth-developed Ford HB 3.5 V-8.

Where both previous Supervans had used endurance racing engines, SuperVan 3 got a motor that was the same as found in Ayrton Senna’s McLaren MP4/8. “If you no longer go for a gap that exists, you are no longer a” Ford Transit driver.

In SuperVan 3 spec, this engine was good for 650 hp and 13,000 rpm. The sound of it! (And also the operating expenses!) A Formula 1 heartbeat means F1 running costs, and SuperVan 3 cost a fortune. It was retired in 2001.

But not before a celebratory run at Brands Hatch in its final year. At the time, Ford had just been awarded the contract to supply the Royal Mail’s delivery fleet. As a celebration, SuperVan 3 was kitted out like Postman Pat’s bright red van, and went scorching around the circuit.

SuperVan 3 was re-engined for the Transit’s 40th anniversary, this time with a much tamer 3.0-liter Cosworth V-6. Power was way down, now at about 300 horses. On the other hand, the change did make it possible for more drivers to get behind the wheel of SuperVan 3 and get it out in front of admiring crowds more often.

Bonus SuperVan: TWR XJ220 Mule

Let’s not leave things on that (slightly neutered) V-6 note. Instead, witness the six-cylinder power of one of the fastest road-going Transit ever made: the Walkinshaw Racing XJ220 development mule.

In order to develop the engine for Jaguar’s 213-mph XJ220 supercar, Tom Walkinshaw Racing (TWR) needed a disguise for motorway shakedowns. The ideal fake-mustache was a Ford Transit. A van was common enough not to draw attention, the large storage area provided easy access to the mid-mounted engine, and it had a rear-drive layout. Let’s not forget that a 540-hp Ford van is simply hilarious.

After the XJ220 project ended, the Transit Mule served as the parts delivery truck for the Benetton F1 team, which is even more hilarious. Eventually, it ended up parked and neglected.

Enter Don Law Racing, an XJ220 specialist father-and-son firm in Newcastle (charmingly, their mailing address begins “The Old Cheese Factory”). Not only did the Law family bring the van back to life, they set about improving it. And they did so with a very British sense of humor.

Power was cranked up to 640 hp, and the suspension retuned to get better translate that power to the road. Then came the ladder, firmly attached to the roof, and the logo on the side reading “Goodwood Estate Repairs and Maintenance.” Fast food wrappers and smutty mags were glued to the dashboard. It’s cheeky fun, but the Transit made seriously good time up the hill and hit a top speed of about 170 mph.

Any of these SuperVans would be a crazy dream machine for any U.K. white-van man. Because whether combustion-engined or packed with batteries and electric motors, a rapid Transit is a delightful thing.

The post These 4 Transit SuperVans predate Ford’s electric hill-climber appeared first on Hagerty Media.

Thinking in reverse; it’s a particular kind of logic that painter and lately-turned linocut printer Etienne Butterlin performs when conjuring up a new hot rod linocut design. Rendered in dark plum, deep red, and moody blue inks on brown paper made from wood pulp, they are striking, dynamic, and hand-pressed in limited runs.

To begin the process, Butterlin sketches a heavily simplified line drawing of the vehicle he wishes to depict. In contrast to the super-realist approach he applies when creating one of his acrylic on canvas automotive paintings, keeping the linocut form free from fussy details is key to success. It’s at this stage of composition that the backwards “brain gymnastics” commence, because Butterlin has to decide which parts of the car need to be carved out of the lino block. Once he’s committed to it with a gouge, there’s no going back.

“Everything I remove will be the color of the paper, and what remains of the lino will be inked and printed,” explains Butterlin, who must flip the image before transferring it on to the lino plate to ensure the finished print appears the same way around as his original drawing. Then, allowing elements of the design to evolve organically as he etches, Butterlin relaxes into the more organic and experimental act of engraving.

Bold and directional “speed lines” bring prints, such as his one of the iconic Pierson Brothers’ 1934 Ford coupe to life. With details such as tire tread omitted, other striking features of the car—most notably its sweeping laid-back windshield—are given permission to stand out.

Reminiscent of Gus Maanum’s ink drawings (a post-war artist who made his name in America producing illustrations of competitors’ hot rods for inclusion in souvenir racing programes and booklets) Butterlin’s prints are stylized to reflect the automotive artwork that emerged during the early days of land speed racing.

“Hot rodding had already started to grow before World War II, but the post-war era offered an incredible space for the development of this phenomenon,” explains Butterlin, who lives in France. “It was such an exciting period, there was so much creativity and empirical intelligence, everything seemed possible.”

It’s still in its infancy, but Butterlin hopes his linocut series will allow people to access his art at a more affordable price point. It’s his astonishingly realistic acrylic paintings (and charcoal drawings), however, that he is best known for at present.

Focusing predominantly, but not exclusively, on “poor boy vintage race cars” (that’s hot rods from the Forties and Fifties to you and me) Butterlin’s pieces have featured some of his favorite customized and classic car rides. There’s the Rolling Bones 232B, the Rolling Bones Hot Rod Shop’s famous 1929 Ford Model A—which had a starring role at the 2021 Goodwood Revival, and a vehicle which Butterlin had ridden shotgun with its owner on a 3100 mile pilgrimage across the USA—as well as the Mercedes-Benz and Auto Union Silver Arrows.

Each is a demonstration of Butterlin’s incredible trompe l’oeil technical ability, and he’s open to commissions that will allow him to expand his repertoire. But it’s his painting of the “Monkey Pecker,” a 1934 Ford coupe built by the famous Texan hot rodder Brian Bass, that puts a twinkle in his eye: “The metallic blue color was a challenge, and I think I succeeded in recreating it.”

At home in his dedicated studio-cum-office and library, Butterlin likes to paint and print to the rhythm of jazz, blues, Fifties Rockabilly or Western Swing, but he doesn’t find comfort in the familiar. Artistic technique, he believes, should evolve in response to the challenges that depicting different subjects presents.

“At the beginning, my paintings were darker, probably because I’m a fan of Renaissance painting, and chiaroscuro,” says Butterlin, whose apartment lies 18 miles from the Bugatti town, Molsheim. “I’m trying to bring more luminosity and complex lights into my paintings. My style has really evolved since working on a salt lake series a few months ago, but there is still a long way to go to get to where I want to be.”

Working from photographs, and often returning to images many years after he first captured them, Butterlin frequently combines several images that he has taken using Photoshop to compose the scene he has in mind.

“Sometimes I add what is missing, such as drivers and a background,” he says. “The photo is a starting point, on which I can rely, but from which I must escape. Once it is composed, I transfer it on the canvas, and start to paint. When the image is a composition from several photos, the light and the atmosphere is created while painting, as well as the speed effects.”

Butterlin hasn’t always lived for, nor tried to earn a living from, his automotive art. This journey began in 2019 when his ten-year tenure as editor-in-chief at the French hot rod and custom magazine, PowerGlide, came to an end in his mid-forties—an age he feels is particularly challenging in which to make a career change. It’s not been an “easy adventure” but with a degree from the Strasbourg School of Decorative Arts behind him, and years of experience working as a photographer and graphic designer, Butterlin channelled the same give-it-a-go attitude that compelled him to start drawing cars at the age of 14.

“In my teens, I fell in love with everything about the ’40s and ’50s and started to buy vintage and American car magazines. In a 1989 issue of the French magazine NITRO, there was an incredible article about the English Low-Flyers car club and the traditional ’40s hot rods they drove. It included a series of pictures that were shot at an airfield in the U.K.”

At this time, Butterlin feels, the hot rod scene was dominated by “’90s street rod crap,” which he says was characterized by garishly colored cars, digital dashboards, and billet aluminum wheels. “Seeing these guys with flat black flathead powered cars, low key in-progress hot rods, and wearing WWII jackets was a true revelation for me; I discovered the ’40s roots of hot rodding.”

Convincingly, Butterlin insists the act of building his own hot rods helps him to “paint them more easily”, and as he settles down to work on his current restoration project: a 1929 Ford roadster powered by a flathead V-8 that he keeps in a rented barn beside his Chevrolet-powered modified roadster. “I love the creativity that hot rodding offers,” he says, assuming a comfortable demeanor. “It’s a restoration job, like for any old car, but it leaves much more freedom and creativity.”

Whether it’s with a wrench, a paint brush, or a gouge, Butterlin will always find a way to channel his passion for these hopped-up ’n’ stripped-down cars.

Via Hagerty UK

The post Etienne Butterlin’s hyper-realistic hot rods dazzle in paint and ink appeared first on Hagerty Media.

Little did I know that in 1984, a Jaguar XJS-HE touring coupe with dealer-optioned Dayton wire wheels was destined to be attached to my life for the next 38 years.

The HE is a high-performance version of the XJS, with a 291-hp V-12 and a three-speed automatic. It was built for high-speed travel, and it was something elegant and aesthetically appealing I could afford. I loved taking long, comfortable cruises up the Pacific Coast Highway—and the occasional perilous ride across the Ortega Highway.

Time wore on and so did the Jag. The car’s Lucas “Prince of Darkness” electrical system did its insidious worst on everything with 12 volts running through it. Gas consumption was about 2 gallons to the mile, and some of the tow truck drivers around town knew me by my first name. I shouldn’t have been surprised when, at 112,000 miles, the engine seized. At that point, I bought a Mercedes, and the Jag was put to rest in the garage.

Just after my retirement in 2007, my wife suggested I do something with the Jag, so I started thinking of a project. Now I had something to do instead of playing bingo.

An XJS conversion is nothing new, and at last, the upgrade began with a donor Corvette LT4 V-8 and a five-speed manual transmission. Everything was redone from front to back, top to bottom, and the final touch was new paint.

Jaguars are not always easy to find parts for, so I spent countless hours online, on the phone, and in salvage yards searching for little bits. In the end, a donor XJS was the answer.

Although it is no longer as quiet, the Jag is still silky smooth and continues to be an awesome touring coupe. I’m not finished, however; in my ongoing quest to avoid bingo, I’ve begun a new phase to replace the current drivetrain with a 430-hp LS3 and six-speed.

I cannot wait to ride again through those canyons and up the ever-beautiful PCH.

The post This 120K-mile Jaguar survives thanks to a Corvette appeared first on Hagerty Media.

With the action afoot at Mecum’s Kissimmee sale, the annual January auctions are already underway. With thousands of cars to choose from, there promises to be something for everyone. Rare and obscure muscle cars always find an audience at these events, but there are also tons of modified and custom cars to choose from.

Since the beginning of car culture, people have been trying to coax as much performance out of their vehicles as possible. As time progressed, the nature of modifications have evolved both according to technology and enthusiast taste. For a sample of the flavor variety out there, let’s take a look at six modified and hot rod machines up for auction this month.

1932 Ford Roadster

Barrett-Jackson, Lot 1102

Few vehicles embody the golden age of hot rodding like the 1932 Ford. Over the years they’ve been featured in countless movies, magazine articles and the subject of the famous Beach Boys song which has catapulted the car to stardom. Enter the ’32 Ford offered by Barrett-Jackson in Scottsdale this month. This is one of those cars that has done it all and seen it all. The car was built during the golden age of hot rodding by Sam Conrad, who was a founding member of the L.A. Roadsters car club. The build was featured in countless articles by the likes of Hot Rod, Motor Trend, and Road & Track. These articles detailed the build, which acted as a blueprint for the DIY hot rodder. It was also featured in a promo shoot with the Beach Boys in 1963 in front of Capital Records and was later featured as an extra car in the film Hot Rods to Hell.

Today the car appears much like it did in the early ’60s. The main difference is that the Oldsmobile Rocket V-8 with multi-carb induction is long gone, and a small-block Chevrolet sits in its place with a single four-barrel carb. While the Chevy engine is certainly period-appropriate, Flathead Ford, Oldsmobile, and Cadillac power were staples of the time period. This is a wonderful example of the cars to come out of the golden age of hot rodding and made all the more interesting for its role as a blueprint for many contemporary DIY builds.

1972 DeTomaso Pantera

Barrett-Jackson, Lot 1352

If you went to the 2013 SEMA show, if you hadn’t heard of the Ringbrothers shop, you did by the time you left. The outfit’s build nicknamed “Adrnln”, was a 1971 DeTomaso Pantera that took home Best in Show honors and captured headlines in automotive publications for weeks after. It is certainly one of their more famous builds next to Ringbros’ 2017 SEMA entry, “Defiant!”—the Hellcat-powered 1972 AMC Javelin.

A Pantera is a very unorthodox choice for a full-on custom build, even though modified Panteras are pretty common. The standard 351 Cleveland engine responds well to upgrades, but that was tossed aside in favor of an LS3 making 600 horses. Nothing on the car, inside nor out, was left untouched. A unique two-tone interior renderes the whole driver side upholstered in black and the passenger side in yellow. Much of the body was re-molded and shaped, and the engine bay has a clean and minimalistic look bringing attention to the LS3 and polished exhaust system. Adrnln remains as wild of a custom today as it was when it was unveiled nine years ago, and it’s without a doubt one of the most memorable builds in recent memory.

1957 Chevrolet Bel Air Gasser

Mecum Auctions, Lot W283

In the late 1950s, the gasser burst onto the drag racing scene. These wild machines were normal passenger cars stripped down and given a beam type front axle and leaf springs raising the car in an aggressive reverse rake. The idea being that the high front would better transfer weight to the rear wheels upon launch at the track. This would be a popular style of race car through the early 1960s but would stick around though the early ’70s until Pro Stock took a hold in drag racing. While there is a passionate group of racers who still campaign gassers at nostalgia events, builds are few and far between.

The 1957 Bel Air offered at Mecum is more intended as a show car than a race car. but that makes it no less cool. A 283-cu-in V-8 would not be competitive at the track, but the Comp Cams Big Mutha Thumper cam its packing with ought to give it the idle of a tweaked-out race car. Most interesting is the contrast of the red paint with the white chassis peeking out from under the front, which is usually obscured by a front bumper. For someone looking for the gasser experience without the discomfort of an actual race car, this car ticks all the right boxes.

1961 Chevrolet Impala “Double Bubble”

Worldwide Auctioneers, Lot 63

Autorama is one of the most prestigious custom auto shows around, with owners and builders pouring countless hours and dollars to create a masterpiece in hopes of taking home the coveted Ridler Award. Case in point: this highly customized Impala with a unique roof line completely fabricated as a nod to the Chevy Nomad station wagon. This custom build ran the owner a whopping $1.5 million to build, but that effort was rewarded in the form of the Ridler Award back in 2016.

Under the hood resides a 473-cu-in big-block engine based on the architecture of the 409. It’s topped by a set of eight injection stacks and sits in a smoothed and shaved engine bay. The car sits on a custom Art Morrison chassis, which was painted to match the color of the car and has a polished stainless exhaust tucked underneath. The attention to detail on the interior is simply astonishing. The speedometer has been moved to the center of the dash and gives the appearance of a classic radio. The build is truly majestic, one that would need to be seen in person to be truly appreciated.

1932 Ford Pickup

Mecum Auctions, Lot  T285

Love them or hate them, the patina look has garnered quite a following over the years. The idea flies in the face of the expectation that all custom or modified builds should be clean, fully restored and no expense spared. This is a world where patina, weathering and use of repurposed materials the better. In a way, a well-built hot rod with patina is closer to the original concept of the hot rod than many being produced today. Hear me out with this: In its infancy, hot rodding was about making an old, unwanted vehicle go as fast as possible using as little money as possible. Somewhere in the subsequent decades the concept got lost amongst high-dollar builds for shows like Autorama, AMBR, and SEMA.

This ’32 Ford has just the right amount of patina and has been done up as a race car hauler, complete with race car and faded advertising. The drivetrain is a tried and true small-block Chevy and TH350 automatic transmission. While not renowned for its power, the 305 offers far more power than anything available in 1932. The rear axle has been upgraded to a Ford 9-inch and coilover suspension. The entire truck has been touched as little as possible, however a new wood bed has been installed and blanket upholstery used on the seat. The tow behind race car is non-running and intended as a display, but it completes the look. Patina might not be everyone’s cup of tea, but if it is, this truck really stands out as a tastefully done machine.

1994 Nissan Skyline GT-R

Mecum Auctions, Lot F70.1

Japanese cars are a newcomer to mainstream modifieds. In a way they still have trouble shaking off the image of auto salon show cars The Fast and the Furious movies. The hobby has long moved on from that style and we are starting to see some truly detailed builds become more popular in the U.S. While Japanese cars are by no means a large percentage of the modified cars in the country, the genre is gathering steam with enthusiasts, especially in the Gen-X and younger crowds. We are also starting to see builds by respected garages in Japan, like the legendary Top Secret, make their way into the country.

This R32 GT-R was built as a demonstration by Auto Gallery Yokohama, a garage in Yokohama, Japan. Built for street and time attack racing, the car boasts a stroked 2.7-liter RB26DETT engine making a respectable 550-horsepower on pump gas. The suspension has been upgraded with a set of Blitz adjustable coilovers and Cusco strut braces to enhance cornering. Exterior modifications include a carbon hood, Voltex GT rear spoiler and the addition of front splitter and canards. The most notable feature has to be this car’s paint. The choice of blue is reminiscent of Champion Blue on the R33 LM Limited but lighter. A car like this at a Mecum auction is without a doubt a fish out of water among the usual array of muscle cars, but it does demonstrate how the Japanese market is edging into the mainstream.

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Barnfinds.com has once again found an interesting car for sale on eBay, this time a 1937 Plymouth coupe built with a more modern powertrain. Located in Dixon, Illinois, the hoodless, fenderless ride uses a four-link in the rear, rack-and-pinion steering up front, disc brakes all around, and has a Mopar 360 small-block linked to a Dodge Dakota five-speed manual providing ample power.

Hiding under the small, round air cleaner atop the 360 is a Holley Sniper fuel injection system that does a decent job of looking like a four-barrel carburetor. Overall, the rusty coupe has a decent stance and sort of reminds us of our 1937 Ford project that was once a dirt track race car.

This stripped-down Plymouth has received some knocks from the Barnfinds.com commenters due to its “rat rod” looks, but at least this coupe wears what looks like genuine sheet metal, and it hasn’t been thrown together purely for the sake of looking ratty. There’s nothing tacked on unnecessarily, and it seems to fit the spirit of a true hot rod that favors performance over appearance. The interior, (un)finished in bare metal, features bead-rolled door panels, a simple Hurst shifter, and a six-point roll cage that appears to tie into the front of the frame.

Of course, there are a few things that might need to be addressed if authenticity is a concern. The high-back aluminum racing seats are not a great fit for the overall look of the car, and the throttle-body-injected LA small-block, while stealthy, is also an anachronism. An early Hemi would be perfect, but pricey. Perhaps a 318 Poly instead? The shrunken head hanging from the mirror? That can stay.

With three days remaining, the price for this car has crept up past $5000, but the reserve still has not been met. What do you think the final price will be when the hammer drops?

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We met Vince Weatherby at his San Diego County property, where many of his vehicular projects are housed. There’s a ’68 Firebird in a garage along with most of what looks like a Jaguar XK120, but the bulk of his collection is older and decidedly less curvy. Weatherby is a WWII historian and has an affinity for military vehicles, so there are flat-fender Jeeps, a Dodge command car, a Chevrolet G-506—the single-rear-axle version of the common GMC deuce-and-half truck—and, partially covered by a huge tarp, an amphibious DUKW. Despite this fascinating variety of metal, it was another piece of history in Weatherby’s care that brought us to his garage.

The Dick King roadster, as this ’29 Ford Model A came to be known, has been through several iterations. It first gained notoriety when it hit the California car show circuit in the early ‘50s. Dick King belonged to the Vallejo Rodsters car club and owned the roadster starting in the late ‘40s. King was an avid hod-rodder and racer and eventually became an engineer. One of his lasting legacies, however, is this car. Aside from its timeless cool factor, it marked a seminal moment in northern California hot-rodding and no doubt inspired many early hot-rodders to build cars in a similar vein. The generous publicity it received was a big help on that front. Blending traditional hot-rodding tactics of swapping mechanical parts with the show car methods of the era, like pirating aesthetic bits and bobs from other vehicles, puts this car into the rare territory of a race car with show-winning looks.

Early photos show it as a rough-and-tumble hot rod with a ’32 grille shell but without a hood or hood sides. In just a couple of years, the car evolved to be sleek, trim, and polished. It featured a wonderfully shaped track nose and rode on a low, race-like stance thanks to being channeled over its fully boxed 1932 Ford frame. The louvered aluminum hood and hood sides were accompanied by a belly pan that kept the airflow from mingling with the dropped floorboards. In true hot rod fashion, a flathead V-8 was mated to a ’39 Ford trans filled with Lincoln Zephyr gears that sends power to a ’40 Ford banjo rear end. It was enough to get the car a small feature in Hot Rod magazine and several mentions in show coverage from other magazines.

Weatherby has been doing his best to piece together the car’s history, but information is hard to come by. In its early show-going years the car was painted blue, although some photos suggest the front end was bare metal for a brief period of time. In 1951, the roadster competed at Oakland’s Grand National Roadster Show for the title of America’s Most Beautiful Roadster (AMBR) and tied for second with the Neikamp roadster, another blue, track-nosed Model A that had won the title the previous year.

As best as Weatherby can tell, the car remained blue as long as King owned it. After that, things get murky. He does know that the car wasn’t just a show queen, as it has the timing tags to prove that it competed in the Cal-Neva Roadster Association’s flying quarter-mile trials.

It seems that the roadster had at least three owners before Weatherby’s history of the car picks back up. One of them had painted it a metallic yellow-gold that looked quite good, but time took its toll on the car and by the mid-‘80s it was a little hairy around the edges. That’s when Barry Williams, a longtime family friend of Weatherby’s, spotted it for sale at the Pomona Swap Meet in the mid-’80s. Dick King’s original vision for the car was still mostly intact, although the Ford flathead V-8 had been replaced with a Chevrolet small-block. (Not surprising, given that everything gets a small-block Chevy of one type or another given enough time.) The hand-shaped track nose had also been replaced, this time by a fiberglass piece.

Starting in 1986, Williams spent four years getting the car back to its 1951 car show glory with the help of many California shops. Bill Oliver at Trabuco Rod Works handled the suspension and chassis. Bruce Henderson did the bodywork in Costa Mesa, and Don Emory of Emory Restoration in Fallbrook, California, did the finish bodywork and paint. It’s a shade of blue that’s close to the original, although likely more vivid. The Chevy engine was yanked, and a hot-rodded flathead was once again placed between the frame rails. The nose was also returned to its show-era glory and was reshaped in aluminum.

After making the rounds in its restored form and being photographed by Gray Baskerville for Rod & Custom magazine, Williams mostly kept the car on jack stands and under cover—two covers actually. Weatherby’s first sight of the car came when he curiously poked around the car and peered under its cover while Williams was focused on a task at a nearby workbench. “You’re getting a little personal, Vincent,” he admonished him. Weatherby moved on to other projects of his own but never really forgot about the car. In 2010, Williams passed away and the car was put up for sale. Weatherby was glad to carry on the car’s legacy and purchased the car from Williams’ estate.

In the 10 years he’s owned it, Weatherby has taken it to several shows and it made another appearance at the Grand National Roadster Show, which is now held in Pomona. Jay Dean of Nostalgia Ranch in Bonsall, California, has been tasked with keeping the car in tip-top shape. A British ex-pat with both a fondness and a knack for hot-rodding and racing pre-war Ford bangers and flatheads, Dean races a flathead-powered 1919 Model T roadster of his own. He has encouraged Weatherby to take the car out to even more shows. “I’ve probably put more miles on it lately than Vince has,” Dean admitted. He’s also likely to have the first right of refusal if Weatherby ever decides to sell the roadster, but nobody is counting on that happening anytime soon.

Weatherby sees himself as a steward for this car, “I’m gonna drive it, but I’m gonna disappoint Jay.” he joked. “It’s still in outstanding condition. I’ve restored a lot of cars over the years. I’m not gonna use it so much that it will need to be restored again.” As the history of this car keeps unfolding, Weatherby hopes to expand his collection of vintage photos and keep the car on the road, visiting shows and preserving its history as best he can. While this iteration isn’t a totally accurate recreation of its 1951 AMBR runner-up finish, this is how the car has looked for 30 years, making its current state its longest-lived look. A look that it will likely keep for many years to come.

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The definition of a hot rod is a times tough to pin down. Some would argue it’s not the motor or the sheet metal that matters most, but rather the attitude of the builder and the project in question. If that’s true, this little red Austin Healey Sprite in the U.K. is an absolute hot rod.

The red Sprite was not too long ago a crusty barn find that wore an inch of dust, dirt, and animal feces. A young enthusiast picked it up, a bit unsure what to do with it but not apt to to turn down the opportunity. In general, a Mk. II Sprite is a fairly run-of-the-mill car, albeit in this case one that was worth bringing home and tucking away. When a friend was prepping a different project for a hill climb event, it suddenly came into focus for the owner that the humble Healey would be the perfect foundation to build something wild.

“Aggressive” would be a mild way to describe both the stance and powertrain. The owner, who doesn’t clearly identify himself in the video, says he lowered the car so much that the exhaust poking through the hood became a necessity rather than a choice. The floor on these Sprites is just inches higher than the lowest point of the rocker panels, and even at factory ride height the exhaust is very low. My Healey drags going in and out of my driveway, which has just a small speed bump at the entrance. This kook’s straight-piped, free-flowing exhaust is more fitting because under the hood is a 1340cc  four-cylinder that is prepped like a race machine. It sounds wicked and the Sprite seems to go pretty darn well too.

The mismatched wheels are … oddly charming? They sit with an aggressive three degrees of camber, necessary to clear the new rims, making the car look broken in my eyes. Of course, it’s all relative, and in certain corners of the car communities this level of slamming would be conservative. Stock hubcaps and paint-matched rear wheels heighten the discrepancy the between front and rear corners, and that goes the same for the removed bumpers. (Stock rear wheels were likely a good choice considering the owner elected to weld the differential in the hopes of using the car for drifting.)

The interior is pretty ratty but, again, it all works here. Overall it looks like a super fun machine to drive, though it’s clearly targeting a very specific type of dedicated driver. Still, the owner says he has been careful not hack the car to the point that it would be unsalvageable for a future restoration. In fact, he set the stock hood off to the side because cutting a hole for the exhaust was too much for him to stomach. Respect.

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Hagerty readers and Hagerty Drivers Club members share their cherished collector and enthusiast vehicles with us via our contact email, tips@hagerty.com. We’re showcasing some of our favorite stories among these submissions. To have your car featured, send complete photography and your story of ownership to the above email address.

Today’s featured vehicle is a 1931 Ford Model A Tudor. The successor to the Model T began production in October 1927 and presented Ford customers with a much more refined transportation experience than the Model T did. A 40-horsepower, 200-cubic-inch flathead four nearly doubled the output of the Model T’s four-cylinder engine, and a positively modern three-speed gearbox replaced the T’s planetary design. Model As featured practically identical drivetrains but came in a bevy of body styles, including the (relatively common) Tudor sedan before us today.

This particular Tudor got a new lease on life thanks to three generations of the Le Blanc family: Edward, Sr., Edward, Jr., and Eric. Originally a Colorado “field find,” the Model A began as a father-son project for the younger Edward and his son. “It had the usual rust, also known as cancer, and mice living everywhere,” Edward, Jr. writes, but “it was all original, including the engine, transmission, lights, fenders, bumpers, and seats.”

Though the Le Blancs decided on a tastefully understated aesthetic, the Tudor didn’t stay stock for long. Edward, Jr. got the “gearhead gene” from his father, he writes, who owned rods and bikes and raced stock cars. The younger Edward grew up racing go-karts and quarter midgets, wrenching on anything with an engine in their spare time. Naturally, the Model A was destined for an old-school build.

Out went the 40-hp four-cylinder, and in went a 385-hp Ford 351 with a roller cam, rockers, and lifters, which inhales with a Holley 770 carb and exhales through Sanderson headers and a Borla stainless steel exhaust. A five-speed Tremec sends power to the wheels via a 9-inch Ford Positraction rear and 31-spline axles. Adjustable coilovers and Wilwood discs sit at all four corners.

The Le Blancs lavished equal attention on the Model A’s interior, which now boasts Vintage Air air conditioning, power windows, wool carpet, and Katzkin leather.

“The project renewed the bond I’d had with my father when I was young,” Edward, Jr., writes . “The Model A ended up being a three-generation project for me, my father, and my son.”

That’s the kind of relationship building we support.

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