Drag racing’s first Funny Cars weren’t called “Funny Cars.” They were factory experimental (FX) cars—stripped down two-door coupes fitted with lightweight parts and big engines. In 1964, give or take a year, these special hot rods were given to the favored race teams of a few Detroit manufacturers. Other racers cobbled together their own versions of an FX racer. There were Fords, Mercurys, Chevys, Pontiacs, Dodges, and Plymouths of the most recent vintage. The racers who campaigned them in match races hopped them up, first with fuel injection and later adding superchargers and, ultimately, nitromethane fuel. Seen as the bad-boy class of drag racing, the most heavily modified FX cars—and the supercharged S/FX cars—weren’t welcome at the events of drag racing’s sanctioning bodies. But they were embraced by track owners who just wanted to offer a show that would put butts in seats. And put butts in seats they did, with loud, rocking radio ads that promised Ford vs. Chevy, Dodge vs. Pontiac, and David vs. Goliath, at speeds Detroit’s passenger cars were never meant to achieve.

“I’m gonna put that Pontiac-driving farmer right back on his tractor,” screamed a voice on the radio that was supposedly Gary Dyer, driver of Mr. Norm’s Grand Spaulding Dodge S/FX car. And the fans came out in droves to see Arnie Beswick—an Illinois farmer—and his Pontiac take on Dyer and his Dodge.

“Factory experimental” was somewhat of a misnomer in that only a few of the cars on the match race circuit were genuine factory efforts. Among the factory-supported cars, however, were Mercury Comets along with Dodges and Plymouths with Chrysler’s new 426 Hemi V-8 engine. Chevy didn’t officially sponsor cars, but it has been said that trucks left the GM Tech Center in Warren, Michigan, loaded with blocks, crankshafts, and cylinder heads for that maker’s big-block engine, before dropping off said iron at the garages of racers. So too, Pontiac, which covertly supported a few favored racers.

Chrysler Corporation invested in FX racing by producing short-wheelbase, lightweight clones of its street cars for select racers. Because the altered wheelbase made them appear odd, they were disparagingly dubbed “funny cars” by GM and Ford racers. The name eventually stuck.

And it was a battle royale, as no maker wanted to be left in the dust. Dodge took advantage of stock-body drag racing’s popularity early on with a pair of blown and injected cars running on gasoline that raced each other at various tracks in 1964. Ford got serious about FX and provided modified Mercury Comets to numerous racers, including Jack Chrisman, a former top fuel dragster racer. Chrisman was not impressed with the performance of the normally aspirated Comet, and he built a second Comet with a nitro-burning, supercharged engine. 

In 1965, Ford upped the ante and installed its newly developed single-overhead-cam (SOHC) V-8 in several Comet FX cars. The engine had originally been developed for NASCAR and was meant to run carbureted on gasoline. When NASCAR banned it, Ford turned to drag racing, giving it to select FX racers and top fuel dragster teams.

At first, the SOHC Ford-powered cars dominated, and Ford performance management responded by asking a local builder of dragsters, Logghe Stamping Company, to build tube chassis underpinnings for its best Mercury Comet race teams. Another maker produced a fiberglass replica of the Comet body, and the first “modern” Funny Car was born. The SOHC Ford engine made good power on moderate loads of nitromethane, and the “flip-top” Comets were kings of the quarter mile. But durability would eventually become a problem.

Ed Pink, who developed Ford SOHC engines for top fuel teams, struggled with the engine. In a 2015 Motor Trend article he said, “This engine was meant to handle maybe 750 horsepower, and we were getting 2500 horsepower out of it. We would be lucky to get four runs for qualifying and four for eliminations from a block. If we did, the crank would be laying in the bottom of a broken-up block.”

By mid ’65, a number of Dodge and Plymouth racers were matching the Ford upgrades piece for piece, bolting on blowers and tipping the nitromethane can. Gary Dyer, who had raced one of the factory Comets in ’64, teamed up with Norm Krause of Chicago’s Grand Spaulding Dodge to build a supercharged Dodge Funny Car on a mildly modified standard-issue two-door sedan body and chassis. At first, he ran high-9-second ETs on gasoline, but midway through the season he switched to nitromethane fuel and was soon equaling the numbers of the Mercury cars. 

Toward the end of the ’65 season, Dyer and Norm purchased a lightweight altered-wheelbase car that Chrysler had built for Dodge racer Roger Lindamood. Dyer installed his engine in the Lindamood car, which had been normally aspirated, then he bolstered the unibody chassis, pushed the nitro percentage up a bit, and was soon running eights. At the end of the season, Dyer towed the car out to California for a big Funny Car show at Lions Drag Strip in Long Beach. While most match race teams were stuck in the nines and tens, he put down an 8.653-second, 163-mph pass in the modified steel-body Coronet.

The gauntlet had been thrown down, and to be competitive in Funny Car match racing you had to make big power. Arnie Beswick and his Pontiacs were staying close to Dyer, occasionally beating him in their frequent match-race appearances. Numerous Ford and Chevy racers were running big numbers, too, and a Ford vs. Chevy match race guaranteed a big draw for the track owner and, more often than not, a lot of oil and chunks of aluminum on the dragstrip

As the 1967 season got underway, it became obvious that a modified steel-bodied production car wouldn’t cut it on the match-race circuit. Soon, fiberglass-bodied, tube-chassid Funny cars were sprouting like weeds. By late ’67, the best cars had broken the 8-second quarter-mile barrier, and competition became heated. Mopar racers in their Dodge and Plymouth cars were faring well, making plenty of power with Chrysler’s Hemi. Those with good mechanical skills could do so without a lot of carnage. For example, the “Chi-Town Hustler” team of Farkonas, Coil, and Minick ran the same engine for all of ’67 and ‘68 in their ’67 Barracuda Funny Car, recording mid-7-second ETs, setting track records, and winning consistently on the match race circuit.

“Jungle” Jim Liberman campaigned a ’67 Chevy II with a big-block engine and had to settle for 8-second ETs to avoid expensive engine failures. The Chevy engines were stout enough and were very good powerplants in normally aspirated form, but they didn’t like big loads of nitro and a supercharger. Austin Coil, who is considered one of the best supercharged nitro-fuel engine tuners of all time, explained why. 

Like most V-8 engines, he told me, the Chevys have ports that are offset from the valves and curve a bit on their way to the combustion chamber. So when fuel enters the chamber it swirls around the circumference. Fuel mixture swirl is generally an advantage in a normally aspirated engine because it enhances combustion. But in a supercharged nitro-burner, it’s a distinct minus because fuel is forced down to the ring lands as the piston comes up on compression. With lots of cylinder pressure and a high percentage and volume of nitromethane, the resulting violent explosion lifts the ring lands, effectively destroying the piston. Make another run without swapping in a new piston, and the damaged part could escape through the side of the block, igniting a fire as oil hits the exhaust pipes.

As fierce competition led to racers pushing their engines harder, the Chevys destroyed pistons regularly. The same was largely true of Pontiac engines, but they were also plagued with head gasket problems. Pontiacs had only 10 head bolts per bank, while the Mopars had 17, and the big-block Chevies had 14. All builders of supercharged nitro-fuel engines augmented the seal of the head gaskets with copper-wire O-rings in a groove around each cylinder. Because of the bore spacing on the Pontiacs, it was impossible to install separate O-rings for each cylinder. Instead, racers “siamesed” the O-ring grooves between cylinders. Installing the wire perfectly was difficult to say the least, and even when installed correctly that fix wasn’t as effective as two distinct O-rings. So head gasket failures were common on the supercharged fuel-burning Ponchos. A failure usually meant a destroyed engine block as combustion heat and pressure burned away the block deck.

Some racers were able to make Chevy fuelers work well into the 1970s by limiting fuel loads and exercising extreme caution with boost and other tuning variables. Most notable was Dick Bourgeois, who drove and tuned the Doug’s Headers car. Bourgeois was running 6.60-second ETs as late as the mid-70s. But long term, running a Chevy engine supercharged on nitromethane was a losing battle.

Although the Ford SOHC engines weren’t designed to tolerate supercharging and big loads of nitromethane, they ultimately disappeared from lack of support. Ford stopped manufacturing the engine because it couldn’t use it in NASCAR and probably deemed it too expensive to produce for passenger cars, as Chrysler had done with its 426 Hemi. But Ford had another engine waiting in the wings: the Boss 429 “Shotgun” motor.

In 1971, Mickey Thompson, with support from Ford, built a Pinto Funny Car with a titanium chassis and a Ford Boss 429 engine, supercharged and on nitromethane. After running very well at times with Dale Pulde in the driver’s seat but also encountering breakage and numerous fires, the team eventually switched to a Chrysler 426 Hemi. Asked why they gave up on the Ford 429, Pulde said, “The aluminum heads fell apart, the valvetrain was weak. The deck was short, which made for a less-than-ideal connecting rod angle. We built 1-inch spacers and sleeved the engine all the way through the spacers to enable longer connecting rods, but it was a losing battle. There was great parts availability for the Chrysler Hemi, so we eventually made the switch.”

Most other Funny Car racers who were running engines that matched the brand of their car’s GM or Ford fiberglass body eventually gave up on the maker’s powerplant as well. Arnie Beswick, for example, who had gained a large following with his Pontiac-powered GTOs, Firebirds, and Tempests, finally threw in the towel and switched to a Chrysler 426 Hemi in 1972. 

If there was competition to become the dominant engine in Funny Car racing, Chrysler won going away. But the 426 Hemi wasn’t bulletproof. When competition and the resulting horsepower race led to more fuel volume, more supercharger boost, and increased displacement, cracked main webbings became a significant problem for the cast-iron Chryslers. High-strength aluminum aftermarket blocks addressed that issue, with Ed Donovan introducing a block based on the 1958 Chrysler 392 Hemi and Keith Black producing a stout aluminum version of the ’64–’71 426 Hemi. 

The Keith Black 426 clones proved far more popular than the Donovans, likely because most racers were already running cast-iron versions of the later-model Hemi. By this time, the National Hot Rod Association (NHRA) had welcomed Funny Cars and the crowds they drew into the national event ranks. To standardize specifications for professional Funny Car and Top Fuel racing, NHRA developed engine specifications based on the Chrysler 426 that would dictate the design of aftermarket manufactured engines. 

Those specs still define the basic design of the 11,000-plus horsepower fuel motors that thrill fans today. Several companies make cast aluminum or aluminum billet versions of the Hemi drag racing engine, but they’re all made to the same specifications, and the aluminum two-valve cylinder heads atop them are nearly indistinguishable from those used in the late ’60s 426 Chrysler Hemis. If you walk through the pits at a national NHRA event you’ll see Hemi valve covers emblazoned with Dodge, Chevrolet, Ford, and Toyota logos, to match the branding of the race car’s fiberglass body. But deep down inside, they’re all direct descendants of Chrysler’s 426. 

***

Check out the Hagerty Media homepage so you don’t miss a single story, or better yet, bookmark it. To get our best stories delivered right to your inbox, subscribe to our newsletters.

The post The Serious Business of the Funny Car Engine Wars appeared first on Hagerty Media.

How does a young boy living in Sicily become interested in Porsches? How does he grow up to become a master Porsche mechanic? 

The Targa Florio.

Gaspare Fasulo was born on the island of Sicily in a little town south of Palermo, Castellammare Del Golfo, population 3000. His father was an automotive machinist, and two uncles were mechanics. Fasulo’s little hometown didn’t have much in the way of exotic cars—mostly Fiats, some Lancias puttering about, and every now and then, an Alfa. 

Every year, however, the Targa Florio came to town. This was a big occasion. Fasulo’s father would put on his best suit, his mother would put on a pretty dress, they’d put young Gaspare in his finest outfit, and off they would go to witness the howling parade of race cars laying siege to their town as they lapped the island.

You might think a Sicilian would be cheering on the machines from the mainland, but it wasn’t the Ferrari Dino 206S, the 250 LM, or even the Alfa Romeo T33/2 that captured young Fasulo’s imagination. It was the Porsches. It’s not that he didn’t care for the Italian cars—in fact, he loved them—but they just didn’t inspire him like the screaming 911s, 910s, and 907s. To see a 907 back then flashing past you, inches away, was like seeing a spaceship today. There was just something about the sound and the looks that got under the boy’s skin, and it would stay with him.

Gaspare Fasulo was still young when he and his family arrived in the United States in 1974. The first picture that graced the 7-year-old’s bedroom wall was of a Porsche 911, and it stayed there for years.

His father’s uncle had come to America ahead of them and had started an Alfa Romeo shop in Brooklyn, called Autodelta. This was where the family worked. By the time Fasulo was in junior high school, he was hanging around the shop, and by high school he was working there in the afternoons, as long as he promised his mother that all his schoolwork was done. He’d tell her it was complete so that he could get over to the shop, but his schoolwork mostly got done late at night. And he was always at the shop on Saturdays, honing his mechanical chops and learning everything there was to know about Alfas. But his true love was still Porsche.

At the age of 15, before he could even drive, Fasulo bought his first Porsche, a 1966 912. A buddy of his had told him about the car. The 912 had been languishing in a body shop in Coney Island for years, the subject of a restoration gone bad. Fasulo took a peek and put down eight grand for the car—big money for a 15-year-old, but he had earned it. The car was in pieces: The fenders were off, the glass and interior were out, the engine and transmission were on the floor, and there was some missing hardware, but Fasulo knew he could take it on, and he proceeded to put the car back together mechanically.

While he was reviving the 912, a buddy told him about a shop in Elmsford, New York, called Rennwerke, that specialized in Porsche repair. Fasulo made up a detailed list of what he was missing for his build and took a drive up to Westchester.

At the shop, he met with John “Cheech” Fernandes. Fasulo handed over his list of parts. Cheech took a look at the youngster and they talked about the project as Cheech got him his parts. “If you need anything else,” Cheech said, “let me know.”

Fasulo spent the next year or so working on the 912 as time allowed, then took another ride back out to Westchester, this time with a stack of Polaroids, to show the car’s progress to Cheech. Cheech was impressed at what the kid had achieved. As he left, Cheech wished him luck, but Fasulo got the sense that Cheech didn’t think he would ever finish the build. But the next time Fasulo went up to Elmsford, he arrived in his newly restored Porsche. Cheech was impressed.

“If you want to work for me part-time or on the weekends,” Cheech told him, “I always need good help.” Fasulo  stayed at Autodelta, but he and Cheech remained friends. He kept buying parts from Rennwerke, and in the mid-1980s, at age 18, he finally jumped ship to go work there. 

He started at the bottom, worked his way up, and was a fixture of the Rennwerke shop until 2000, when he left to go work for DeMan Motorsport in Nyack, New York. There Fasulo learned a great deal about race cars, race prep, and tuning engines on a dyno, and he spent more and more time at race tracks. By now he was married, and a daughter came along, and then another. But he was hardly ever home. He would leave early in the morning and arrive home late at night, and he never had a chance to see his children. Things had to change. In 2004 he found his way back to Rennwerke and was there for the next 10 years. The family even moved from Brooklyn to Westchester in 2007 in order to shorten his commute. 

During his second stint at Rennwerke, Fasulo was introduced to car dealer Chris Turner by Turner’s long-time friend and fellow dealer Mark Starr, of Hunting Ridge Motors. Turner wanted work done on his underperforming 964 RS, so Gaspare went through it, gave it his magic touch, and gave Turner back a different car.

Turner was so thrilled he told Starr he didn’t want anyone else working on his cars. This was the start of a long line of Turner’s Porsches coming into Fasulo’s care, along with other air-cooled models that Turner and Starr bought together to sell.

Finally, however, Fasulo came to an impasse. Things were no longer working out in his second go at Rennwerke, and it was time for a change. He left in 2017, began planning for the future, and went searching for space.

In the meantime, Chris Turner showed up at Rennwerke to check on one of his cars and was told Fasulo no longer worked there. Turner immediately got in touch to see what the problem was. “I’m starting my own shop,” Fasulo told him.

Turner asked Gaspare to come to see him the next day before he did anything. He owned a number of dealerships—surely Fasulo could come work for him. So they toured Turner’s McLaren dealership, but it didn’t seem the right fit, and there really wasn’t enough space for Fasulo to work. Turner then took him to his Lamborghini dealership, where he led him into a brand-new shop: The front half was for the Italian machines, and the back half was being used for prep, but it could become Fasulo’s domain. Five lifts, LED lighting, tile floor, A/C, two garage doors, the works.

Fasulo was interested, and Turner told him, “If we’re going to do this, you must come up with a name. It’s going to be your shop. You’re going to run it, so you name it.” Turner was ready to move and make things official. Gaspare Fasulo gave it some thought and then took his name and the German word for “work”: Gaswerks. The logo is derived from a 911 crankshaft pulley; if you look closely, you can see the TDC marks and the timing marks.

And like that, Turner had his own in-house air-cooled guru to take care of his machines, but the word got out about where Fasulo had gone, and within the first week of opening, there were 911s and 356s waiting for the master’s touch.

To keep up with demand, Fasulo surrounded himself with techs who had the same mindset, passion, and drive as he did. He and his team make Porsches sing, and they’re given the freedom to create some special machines, like a 911R recreation, a 914/6 GT tribute, and the car Turner always wanted to build—a 934 clone. Turner dreams it, he and Fasulo sit down together and design it, then Fasulo and his team make it a reality.

Five years in, Gaswerks is humming right along, always busy with service work and special builds, and Turner and Fasulo take time to run their creations in rallies and on track. The eventual plan is to separate Gaswerks from the Lamborghini dealership to create a standalone facility, with a proprietary engine room, a service area, a showroom, and fewer interruptions.

Over the years, Fasulo has worked with and learned from some great people, and most of his knowledge doesn’t rely on a computer to tell him what’s wrong. He’s been able to share that personal knowledge along the way. Case in point: A rough-running 911 came into Gaswerks. One of his techs was trying to figure out how he would start the diagnoses to determine which cylinder wasn’t firing. “I showed him the simplest method possible that I learned from an old drag racer I worked with,” Fasulo says. “I filled a spray bottle full of cold, soapy water and warmed up the car. We went under the car and I had my tech start spraying the header tubes. The first one sizzled when sprayed, the second one as well, but the third didn’t, and the rest did. Bingo, we found the bad cylinder.” No electronic gizmos required.

“You have to be mentally in tune with the car,” Fasulo adds. But even with all his knowledge, he still hits the books. He goes home and does deep dives into technical manuals to learn all the ins and outs—the minutiae—of all things automotive generally and Porsche specifically.

In 1988, after Fasulo sold that 912 of his, he picked up a 1975 2.7 Targa with a Sportomatic. It was not a great car, but because he can never leave anything alone, he took out the automatic and put a five-speed in its place. He also swapped out the 2.7 for a 3.2. This was not something normally done 30 years ago, but for Fasulo, it was natural. His next car was a black-on-black ’88 Carrera cabriolet. He replaced the stock exhaust with a hideously loud muffler. “My ears would be ringing after a short drive, and my neighbors hated me!” He wishes he could go back in time and tell young Gaspare what to do sometimes.

Next came a Ruf 930, purchased because he wanted something with power and boost. Eventually he rebuilt the powertrain, and it is still in his collection. These days, to satisfy his urge to go fast, he runs a 997 GT3 Cup car in Porsche Club of America races. But when he’s looking for a change of pace on track, Fasulo gets behind the wheel of Turner’s Porsche-powered Sabel fiberglass special, or his VW Empi Crusader. And when he really wants to get back to his roots, he races a 912 in the Vintage Sports Car Club of America. He knows that going fast is cool, but going fast in a slow car is cooler.

That first 912 was the car that started Gaspare Fasulo down a lifelong path. All his friends were into muscle cars and didn’t understand his attraction to the little German machine. The engine was small. It was in the wrong place. They didn’t get it, but he did.

***

Check out the Hagerty Media homepage so you don’t miss a single story, or better yet, bookmark it. To get our best stories delivered right to your inbox, subscribe to our newsletters.

The post Gaspare Fasulo’s Unlikely Path to Porsche Whispering appeared first on Hagerty Media.

In 1986, BMW turned the sport sedan space on its head when it homologated the E30 3 Series for German DTM and Group A touring car racing. As was BMW’s ethos, the 3 Series was already a competent, fun-to-drive little machine, but the M3 was a different beast entirely, with a race-derived powertrain and upgraded suspension and brakes. Bodywork included fat fender flares to accommodate wide Pirelli P700-Z tires, a deep front splitter and rear valance, aggressive sill trim, revised C-pillars, and a taller trunk with big rear wing atop it. Only the hood and roof were shared with its “lesser” 3 Series counterparts, and the changes resulted in a car far more slippery and far more stable at speed. 

The car was nothing short of a revelation and easily embarrassed some of the world’s great sports cars. In 1988, the M3 finally arrived in America. Naturally, it became an enthusiast favorite and today commands a hefty premium over other E30-generation BMWs.

Never one to ignore a winner, with each successive generation of 3 Series, BMW stuck with the M3’s formula. The E36 of 1992–99 introduced convertible and four-door variants, along with an extra hundred horsepower over its predecessor, this time from a straight-six. 

When the third-gen E46 M3 hit the streets in 2001, journalists and enthusiasts alike reckoned it was just about perfect. With its sonorous 333-hp 3.2-liter inline-six, available six-speed manual, and sure-footed handling, it did the badge justice, whether in two-door coupe or convertible form.

On condition alone, the Laguna Blue E46 M3 that sold on Bring a Trailer this week was not perfect. Chiefly, it was a 29,000-mile car with an underside showing some of the grit and grime of those miles; it had a resprayed hood; a cracked and dented front fascia; and a front end peppered with tiny rock chips. Its record $117,600 sale price, however, suggests that bidders simply didn’t care. So, how did a car with flaws like these achieve a best-in-the-world result?

Answer: a great blend of rare options. That color, for one. Laguna Seca Blue (LSB) is lovely in photos. It’s even better in person. The BMW Registry tells us that 26,202 E46 coupes were sold in North America. Just 1128 came in LSB, the bulk of them from 2001–03. After the M3’s mid-2003 “lifecycle impulse” (which, for some reason, is BMW-speak for “facelift”) just 154 LSB coupes appeared, and there were none in 2005–06. 

Also rare was this car’s Cinnamon Nappa leather interior. Nearly 90 percent of all LSB coupes had either gray or black leather interiors; just 1.7 percent of LSB coupes (19 total cars) featured this lovely orangey-brown inside. In a world of power everything, refreshingly, this car had lighter, manually adjustable (but heated!) seats. Similarly, sunroofs were almost de rigueur on these M3s, but this car was spec’d from new without, making it one of two cars in this color combo with a slick roof. One of them featured BMW’s SMG automated manual transmission, the other a row-your-own six-speed. If it was a Ford and this was a Marti Report, here’s where we’d arrive at the pay-off line: This is that car. 

So, rare colors inside and out, a lightweight no-fuss roof, manual seats, and DIY gear changes. That was the recipe here, and bidders were all too happy to overlook the minor foibles that might otherwise knock a car down in value. And, to be fair, the miles, the dings, and the repainted hood (reportedly done before the car’s original/only owner took possession) probably did hold back the final price. But no one is complaining. This car has been driven. It will get driven more.

In January, an 18,000-mile LSB-over-gray E46 M3 with a sunroof sold on Bring a Trailer for $94,500, very near the #1 (concours, best-in-the-world) price, according to the Hagerty Price Guide. The selling dealer of our feature car, OTS and Co., considered that result closely when it consigned this one to BaT, but given the earlier car’s more common features, the seller here was confident of a bigger result.

“I don’t think there’s another E46 M3 that could get close to this,” says Derek Tam-Scott, a principal at OTS and Co. who is also a Hagerty contributor and host of the Carmudgeon podcast. “Except maybe a Laguna Seca Blue slicktop manual with Impulse cloth interior or Laguna Seca Blue interior, if any were made. A slicktop black leather interior car could also get close. Our car was literally the only manual slicktop LSB/Cinnamon car sold in North America. The paint color makes a huge difference, and interior also helps.”

In the comments for our Sale of the Week, Tam-Scott asked and answered the following: “Can you get an E46 M3 that drives very similarly (or even identically) for less money? Absolutely. But we like cars because of how they make us feel. This is why we’re more enthusiastic about decades-old manual naturally aspirated sports cars than we are about almost all new stuff you can buy today, even though old cars are less performant, less safe, less efficient, less feature-rich, and just less objectively good generally.” 

It’s hard to argue with that. And it’s hard to argue when the market speaks. Sure, yes, this is one result (on the back of that $94,500 sale, however . . .), but it is still a statement: Enthusiasts hanker for purity over perfection, and when the right car comes along, they’ll pay up for it. 

Then they’ll go drive it.

***

Check out the Hagerty Media homepage so you don’t miss a single story, or better yet, bookmark it. To get our best stories delivered right to your inbox, subscribe to our newsletters.

The post This E46 BMW M3 Proves That Purity Tops Perfection appeared first on Hagerty Media.

The new Bentley Continental GT is still under wraps for the moment, but Henry Catchpole has had the chance to drive one. The venerable W-12 engine is now consigned to the history books, and in its place we have a shiny new hybrid powertrain producing 771 hp. That figure makes this the most powerful Bentley road car ever. 

Creating all that power is a 591-hp four-liter turbocharged V-8 working in conjunction with a 188-hp electric motor. The former makes a surprisingly good sound, and the latter is capable of propelling the Continental GT in near silence for up to 50 miles. The torque figures are a respective 590 lb-ft and 332 lb-ft, giving a total system output of 737 lb-ft. All of which means the new car will do 0–62 mph in just 3.3 seconds, which is 0.3 seconds quicker than the old W-12 GT Speed. It still has a top speed of 208 mph. 

Of course, this new hybrid drivetrain adds weight—somewhere in the region of 440 pounds—but with the 29.5-kWh battery in the trunk, that weight is now perfectly balanced 50:50 across the car. Combined with new ZF dual-valve dampers, a 48-volt electric anti-roll system, torque vectoring, an e-diff, all-wheel drive, and four-wheel steering, the new Continental GT is not only powerful it is also surprisingly fun on a slippery track. 

Circuit ParcMotor Castellolí experienced all of the weather during our few hours there, but a rain-soaked track certainly let the Bentley’s chassis shine. It was playful and controllable and fun in a way you wouldn’t really expect a Continental GT to be. Turn the stability control off and it will slide with an easy abandon. Not something we imagine many owners will ever do, but as there was an empty circuit and someone else was footing the bill for the Pirellis, it seemed rude not to! And given that a Ferrari Roma or Aston Martin DB12 will always aim to be comfortable as well as sporty, why shouldn’t a Conti GT be a bit sporty as well as comfortable? 

We’ll have to wait a few more weeks until the looks of the new Continental GT are unveiled, and we need to do some proper miles on the road to assess things, such as what effect those new dampers have had on the ride comfort. Will it actually achieve 50 miles on electric power alone? And will the lack of 12 cylinders be a turn-off in the eyes of the Bentley customer base? All questions still to be answered . . .

***

Check out the Hagerty Media homepage so you don’t miss a single story, or better yet, bookmark it. To get our best stories delivered right to your inbox, subscribe to our newsletters.

The post <em>The Driver’s Seat</em>: Henry Catchpole on the New Bentley Continental GT appeared first on Hagerty Media.

I consider myself fortunate to have grown up on a dairy farm, surrounded by ample tools, a vast pile of scrap steel, and old tractor parts ripe for exploration. It was there that I honed my fabricating skills from a young age. By the time I turned 24, I had successfully constructed my first hot rod from scratch.

Shortly after I achieved that milestone, however, I encountered unexpected medical complications that rendered me unable to work or even walk for two years. Confined to my chair, I spent what felt like an eternity immersed in dreams of crafting another hot rod.

[Welcome to Homegrown—a limited series about homebuilt cars and the ingenuity of their visionary creators. Do you know a car and builder that might fit the bill? Send us an email to tips@hagerty.com with the subject line HOMEGROWN. Read about more Homegrown creations here. —Ed.]

Shortly after my recovery, I embraced a role as a line service technician towing and fueling aircraft at a nearby airport. Right next door to us was a vintage aircraft restoration shop called Aerometal International, and often I would watch from our ramp as they pulled their DC3s and other vintage birds out of the hangar—millions of button-head rivets protruding from polished aluminum panels, all of it twinkling in the sunshine. I loved to hear the radials fire up, and I savored the scent of burnt avgas.

I had always been an enthusiast of World War II aircraft and military vehicles, but now I had a front-row seat, and such close exposure to those lovely old machines ignited a real passion. Over time I watched as they meticulously disassembled various planes down to the frames, then reconstructed them almost like new. Although I aspired to work with those technicians, I doubted whether my skills were up to par.

One day, the owner of Aerometal noticed the hot rod I had built and we got to talking. When he offered me a job, I seized the opportunity. I began my journey there by towing aircraft and handling facility chores, then later tried my hand at sheet metal. I swiftly adapted to the craft and soon developed a vision of my next hot rod build.

I wanted to create a piece of art—something that could serve as a tribute to WWII aviation as well as the iconic Jeep. No simple task. I had a design in my head of exactly what I wanted to create and wouldn’t allow myself to cut any corners. If it required thousands of hand-shot rivets in polished aluminum panels, so be it. It didn’t matter how difficult it would be; I allowed myself zero flexibility. So began my journey building the Warbird Jeep under my new side business, Bomb’n Beauties.

I completely hand-built this machine, from the frame to the steering yokes. Although I saw it as a piece of art, the Warbird Jeep is a fully functional vehicle. I wanted more than looks; I wanted this piece to strike all of the senses.

I started by putting an old unusable Jeep body on a rotisserie. I wasn’t going to use the body, but I knew I’d be able to spin it around and pull all the measurements and angles off the Jeep and put them to paper. Knowing full well it would be difficult squeezing in a V-8, I wanted my build to match the original dimensions as best I could. I also used it as an opportunity to run tape lines everywhere I thought I might like to see stringers and rivet lines.

After deciding how the body would be built, I had a better understanding of how it would interact with my frame. I built the frame out of thick-wall rectangular tubing. I knew an aluminum-bodied car would be extremely light, so I needed to add some weight. This also made my frame more than capable of handling the V-8 I had in mind. 

I slightly modified a 1960 Ford F-100 front axle to fit my front end, with radius bars and a transverse leaf setup. I wanted a front axle that could handle the larger Jeep tires at high speeds. I used a 12-bolt Chevy axle in the rear, with a four-link suspension and coilovers.

Choosing the 350-cid crate V-8 with an automatic transmission was a decision I’d put a lot of thought into. I had considered using some kind of aircraft powerplant but ultimately decided against it. Aircraft engines require a lot of care and maintenance. They also require a mechanic with aviation expertise. Instead, I decided on something that would always operate and require less regular attention. 

Building the body was the most difficult and time-consuming part, as I wanted it to be just like that of an aircraft. That meant riveting it all together rather than welding. I utilized stringers, just like in aircraft, for structure.

Anyone who has ever attempted to shoot rivets will understand the agony I endured. Every rivet location was hand-drawn, drilled, deburred, and shot. I used standard aviation AD rivets, and they’re incredibly difficult to shoot without having an unrecoverable accident. Each time I did have an accident on a panel, I started over. I didn’t want any imperfections on this piece. By the end, I had installed more than 4500 rivets into the body. The only panel that utilized a CAD-drawn image and laser-cut was the instrument panel. Everything else was built by hand.

With everything on the exterior following an aviation appearance, I wanted the interior to feel like a cockpit. The passenger side mirrors the driver’s side, with full gauges and a functional yoke. All of the center gauges are functional vintage aviation instruments running on vacuum. Even the mag switch works as vehicle battery power. The shifter is crafted to look and feel like a throttle quadrant. A breaker panel replaces conventional fuses, while white-wire looms, neatly tied every few inches, starkly contrast the Pratt & Whitney color-matched paint adorning the drivetrain. I also hand-built the bomber seats with cushions that appear as if the operator left his parachute behind when he got out of the vehicle.

There are too many hidden features on this Jeep to list. I wanted it to keep surprising the viewer the more they looked. Subtle details are everywhere: navigation lights; recognition lights; .50-caliber gun barrels that function as turn signals; fuel tanks that are hand-made bombs hiding under a lightning hole-filled panel in the rear; stainless steel plumbing; standard aviation AN fittings . . . It’s difficult to capture all the details through photos.

I could not have completed this project without the support of my incredible wife. I personally had more than 3500 man hours in this creation over a span of three and a half years, all while maintaining a full-time job. My wife handled the house and kids, which, in my opinion, was probably more difficult than building the Warbird Jeep. I was also quite fortunate to be surrounded by a handful of incredibly skilled friends at work. I was able to tap into each friend’s personalized skill sets for help with paint, polish, wiring, sewing, and so on, so I could stay focused on design and fabrication. Their contribution was around five hundred hours, for which I am eternally grateful.

It’s an amazing feeling to see a dream come to reality. I look forward to creating more automotive masterpieces that captivate the imaginations of car and aviation enthusiasts.

***

Check out the Hagerty Media homepage so you don’t miss a single story, or better yet, bookmark it. To get our best stories delivered right to your inbox, subscribe to our newsletters.

The post Homegrown: The Warbird Jeep appeared first on Hagerty Media.

As early as May 1968, just as the Austin-Healey 3000 was being axed, Jensen boss Carl Duerr started a project to create an affordable two-seat roadster, powered by a BMW straight-six engine. Keen to retain Healey involvement, Duerr brought in Donald and Geoffrey Healey, who preferred the use of Vauxhall running gear. The result was a running prototype called the X500, which was fitted with a 1975-cc Vauxhall engine. Unfortunately, the sole test car made was written off while on maneuvers in December 1970.

By the time the X500 had been destroyed, U.S.-based British sports car importer Kjell Qvale had gotten wind of Jensen’s plans and he muscled in on the project, with a view to making a ton of money from selling the new car in America. Compared with the X500, Qvale proposed a complete redesign, and knowing that this was a car created largely for American buyers, and its success would be dependent on Qvale’s support, he held a lot of sway in the decision-making process. The result was a roadster that was much more current in its appearance, with Coke-bottle hips and recessed circular headlights.

One of the key problems with the new sports car, however, was that the Vauxhall engine didn’t produce enough power breach the 100-mph barrier. Jensen entered into talks with Ford and Mazda, but neither had the capacity to provide the 10,000 powerplants per year that were envisaged. For the same reason, BMW ducked out, but then Jensen seemingly had a stroke of luck: Two of its engineers were on a train discussing the project, when Lotus engineer Graham Arnold overheard. He joined up the dots for them and proposed that Lotus should provide a suitable powerplant. All systems go.

In March 1972, the new Jensen-Healey Roadster was unveiled at the Geneva Salon, powered by Lotus’ new twin-cam 907 engine, which had yet to be fitted to any Lotus. Unfortunately, the unit proved to be hideously unreliable, and Jensen ended up having to finish off its development—after it had been fitted to the first customers’ cars. It was another one of those missed opportunities, because the Jensen-Healey brought with it the first British mass-produced 16-valve engine. But that’s the problem when you innovate . . .

Although the press was largely enthusiastic about the Jensen-Healey when it arrived, the tide soon turned when it became obvious that the most reliable thing about the car was its lack of reliability. The arrival of a Mk 2 version in August 1973 ironed out some of the problems, but there were still many, and by now Donald Healey had walked out, dismayed by all the maladies. When the people in charge of the company start to walk away, you just know things are going badly wrong.

As time went on, the problems really piled up, with water-soluble bodywork, leaky roofs (necessitating a redesign), and never-ending engine glitches all par for the course. Production would limp on until Jensen went bust in 1976, but a year before that a new variation on the theme was introduced: the GT shooting brake.

Now all but forgotten, sketches for a Jensen-Healey estate car were circulating as early as 1972. But it wouldn’t be until December 1974 that the first prototype had been made, and customer cars wouldn’t be ready for another six months after this. By the time the smart-looking new sporting estate had been introduced, the Healeys had retreated and the car was marketed as the Jensen GT, still largely with the North American market in mind.

More than just a fixed-roof Roadster, the GT used the same floorpan as far back as the rear axle, but after that there were mods aplenty. The estate’s much stiffer structure meant less stiffening was required elsewhere, and fitment of air conditioning as standard meant the front bulkhead had to be modified. The roadster’s 92-inch wheelbase was retained, though, and with the overall length rising by just two inches, any weight gain was moderate (2400 pounds compared with the Roadster’s 2300). Thanks to a slightly higher center of gravity, a rear anti-roll bar was added, while the suspension was stiffened and a bigger brake servo was fitted. Other than that, mechanical changes were slight.

Whereas the Roadster’s interior had been rather scrappy, much effort was put into poshing up the GT’s cabin, which received a walnut dash, higher-quality seat trim, and a four-speaker stereo. Optional equipment included leather trim, air conditioning, and various sunroofs; this was intended to be a cut-price Interceptor, but with the focus still on luxury. Its makers hoped that buyers would see the new arrival as a small Jensen rather than a fixed-head version of the Jensen-Healey Roadster.

Despite the Roadster’s well-documented litany of problems, those who tested the GT rather liked it. Autocar drove it in 1975 and started by pointing out that Jensen faced a very uncertain future, with bankruptcy highly likely. Just the thing to entice buyers to sign on the dotted line! Of course, things were not helped by a $10,000 price tag, when the MGB GT cost $3600 and a new Corvette was $7600.

Of its early GT tester, Autocar opined: “The Jensen is a qualified success. It is a fast, reasonably economical and comfortable car for two. Its hatchack design is a useful feature enabling large objects to be carried (though the rear seats are far too cramped for adults), and Jensen has made the GT quieter and more refined than the earlier Jensen-Healey. The engine is still too noisy when extended, though, and the car is not as quiet as the Lotus Elite which has the same engine.”

With the Jensen-Healey’s many glitches largely ironed out by this point, perhaps the GT could have been the car to save Jensen. But with the global economy wrecked, and companies of all sizes struggling to stay afloat, it was only a matter of time before Jensen went under. Selling new cars was hard enough, but paying for all of the Roadster warranty repairs had crippled Jensen, and in May 1976 the company shut its doors, after just 511 GTs had been made. Although more than 10,000 examples of the Jensen-Healey Roadster were built, and it is still recognized by classic car fans on both sides of the Atlantic, its tin-top sibling is all but forgotten, despite being the better car of the two.

The post Sadly, the Jensen GT Never Stood a Chance appeared first on Hagerty Media.

Nissan has announced changes to its R35 GT-R offering for 2024. These include some aero updates to the existing three trims as well as the addition of two special editions featuring heritage colors.

Now in its 16^th year, Nissan’s “supercar for anyone, anywhere, anytime” may be getting a bit long in the tooth, but it has soldiered on with evolutionary upgrades over time, and is still very much relevant in the enthusiast-car discussion, particularly with respect to performance per dollar. The subtle approach continues for 2024 on the 565-hp GT-R Premium ($121,090) and T-spec ($141,090), and on the 600-hp NISMO ($221,090). All three benefit from redesigned front and rear fascias and a reshaped rear wing, enhancing aerodynamic performance through increased downforce and reduced drag.

New to the lineup are a pair of limited-edition GT-Rs. In Japanese, “takumi” is the term used to describe a master craftsman, and the T-spec Takumi Edition pays tribute to the four masters who hand-build each GT-R VR38DETT engine. These cars will feature a gold VIN plate along with a red engine badge to signify an even higher level of attention paid to precise tolerances and balancing during assembly. Outside, each T-spec Takumi Edition will feature Midnight Purple paint—a rare, color-shifting nod to special-edition GT-Rs of the past—while interiors will be done in Mori Green. Midnight Purple is considered one of the most sought-after colors to coat Nissan’s halo car, first appearing on the R33-generation Skyline GT-R and later making its way onto the R34 GT-R V-Spec. 

The GT-R Skyline Edition, meanwhile, pays homage to “the abundant beauty found in skylines across Japan,” according to a Nissan press release. Its special Bayside Blue exterior paint has popped up at different times in GT-R history, first on the R-34 and most recently on the 2019 50^th Anniversary models. According to Nissan, it is inspired by the liveries of victorious Nissan models in the Japan GP racing series, its name taken from Tokyo’s Bayshore Highway, which has long been home to enthusiasts looking to exercise their cars. 

For those more interested in the heritage colors than in the special editions, Bayside Blue is available on GT-R Premium models, while Midnight Purple can be ordered on a regular T-Spec.

Although there is no word yet on when or whether the GT-R will get a more substantial overhaul, the 2024 GT-R is on sale now, while the two special-edition models are expected in the summer. 

***

Check out the Hagerty Media homepage so you don’t miss a single story, or better yet, bookmark it. To get our best stories delivered right to your inbox, subscribe to our newsletters.

The post 2024 Nissan GT-R Changes Include Special Editions in Special Colors appeared first on Hagerty Media.

General Motors has made it clear that when it comes to EVs, the company is fully committed (this story is from 2021), with a pivot in 2024 to being just sort of committed.

And while GM is pivoting, we wonder: Is this year’s last-call model truly the Camaro’s swan song? Was this really, truly, THE END?

For a Camaro powered by gasoline and tiny explosions, yes, totally. For a Camaro running on chemical reactions and whirring motors, we’re only getting started, suggests GM president Mark Reuss.

Ford certainly raised a few eyebrows when it rebooted the Mustang as the all-electric Mach-E crossover, with many owners of those eyebrows decrying the end of the world, calling for heads on pikes, or both. But the Mach-E has been a somewhat familiar way for Ford to help ease buyers into EVs, even if there’s not much pony-car about it. An EV Camaro won’t be a pony car in the classic sense either, but if Reuss has his way, it absolutely won’t be a crossover. 

Speaking to Motor Trend last week, Reuss indicated he wants to see the Camaro return as a car that appeals to all buyers, not just the model’s diehard enthusiasts. We often tend to forget that millions of happy customers were attracted to the look of the Camaro over its multiple generations, rather than what powered it, so Reuss’ focus on a broad appeal makes sense. 

Though there has been no mention of a production timeline and details are thin, Reuss said a Camaro EV could be priced in line with the upcoming 2024 Equinox EV, a compact crossover that will start at $34,995. A $7500 federal tax credit would knock that down to a price point below the outgoing entry-level Camaro, which could make an electric Camaro quite compelling for first-time EV shoppers, particularly those less interested in the head-snapping performance of thousand-horsepower equivalents. That said, it’s difficult to imagine we wouldn’t eventually see some sort of hardcore, tire-shredding, track-focused EV Camaro.

Given that two-door car sales are insignificant in today’s market, it is also hard to imagine an all-new Camaro EV would come equipped that way. So, not a crossover and not a coupe. That could leave us with a low-slung four-door, perhaps something from the Porsche Taycan school of sexy EV design? Not a bad option, but since we can’t read Reuss’ mind it could end up a seven-door, double-decker tuk-tuk when all is said and done.

In the meantime, we presume GM will continue to refine the Ultium EV architecture that underpins that upcoming Equinox, as well as the behemoth Hummer EV 3X, in order to package it for whatever the next Camaro might be. 

So long as they make it look good, with a pony car bent, an affordable Camaro EV could be a downright electric proposition.

***

Check out the Hagerty Media homepage so you don’t miss a single story, or better yet, bookmark it. To get our best stories delivered right to your inbox, subscribe to our newsletters.

The post GM’s Reuss: New Camaro EV Should Be Affordable, Fun, and Not a Crossover appeared first on Hagerty Media.

Retard the ignition, give it a smidge of hand throttle, and a thumbs up to engineer Dietmar Krieger. He braces and swings the starter for this supercharged four-cylinder race car and it explodes into stentorian cacophony. The single oval exhaust under my elbow jets out against the concrete walls of the Mercedes test track in Sindelfingen and straight back into my ears. Really should have worn those ear plugs…

I grip the big wooden wheel and press the leather cone clutch, wait a couple of seconds for things to calm in the four-speed crash ’box and push the soup-ladle–sized lever down by my right leg into first with a tiny graunch. Lift to the engagement point, press the center throttle and then straight up with the clutch. With a jerk and a growl, we’re off. You don’t slip cone clutches and my riding mechanic, museum engineer Manfred Oechsle, nods his approval. 

Second gear almost immediately, then double declutch into third with just a bit of rattle from the gears and smoothly into fourth; now we’re travelling and the square-set bonnet lifts like the snout of a hunting hound at the sound of the horn. This is where it wants to be, on a racetrack, giving its all, but it’s been a long time since it was last caparisoned for battle—100 years in fact. 

So many ways into this story: The winner that wasn’t; the red paint matched from a black-and-white photo; the power of research; the benefits of never throwing anything away; the perils of looking too closely… 

For 20 years, this car, an ex-works Mercedes (not Benz, though, as it was built just before the merger of the two companies) was displayed on a piece of fake concrete banking in the legendary Mercedes-Benz museum. The display card said this battered old warrior was the winner of the 1924 Targa Florio, driven by Christian Werner, the first non-Italian to win the Sicilian classic. None of it quite true…

To begin at the beginning, Werner’s “winner” was part of a team of five cars all driven down from Germany to Italy and across on the ferry to Sicily for this important race. Mercedes had won in 1922, but in 1924, the team was determined to consolidate its success. The 2-liter supercharged cars were fast, with fine handling and narrow bodies to suit Sicily’s narrow roads. The works team consisted of Werner in car no. 10, Christian Lautenschlager in car 32, and Alfred Neubauer—who went on to become the feted Mercedes-Benz racing team manager—in car 23. The fourth car was a spare used for training and reconnaissance, and there was a 1914 Grand Prix car there for show. 

The Targa Florio was created in 1906 by industrialist and auto enthusiast Vincenzo Florio, who had also created the Coppa Florio in Brescia. As an impresario he didn’t muck about, employing local artists to create driver’s medals and publishing a magazine, Rapiditas, which promoted the race and its entrants. 

The original course length was 92 miles on treacherous mountain roads, with over 3600 feet of elevation change and more than 2000 corners per lap, many of them hazardous hairpins with sharp drops. The weather could be highly changeable, the roads were unsealed, and the cars would slide around and create columns of dust. In those beast-like cars, drivers needed pluck and skill, and the first-ever race was won by Alessandro Cagno, an experienced racing driver in an Itala.

By the mid 1920s, the course had been changed in length, but if anything the event had gained in popularity. This was a time when the motor industry was still in its infancy. Big-ticket races were scarce. The 24 Hours of Le Mans was only inaugurated in 1923 and the Italian Mille Miglia was started in 1927. Grand Prix racing was nothing like the current Formula 1 championship, and hill climbs and speed trials were equally as important. Yet the public had an insatiable appetite for the spectacle of these early automobilistes, wrestling their huge, unwieldy, aero-engined brutes. 

By 1924, the Targa Florio was actually two races: the 268-mile Targa Florio, comprised of four laps of the bumpy, 67-mile course; and the Coppa Florio, a 336-mile race that was simply five laps of the same course.

Werner’s was the first victory by a non-Italian since 1920, and he led race from the start against fierce opposition from Giulio Masetti’s Alfa Romeo. He set the fastest laps in both races, and if you add in the Coppa Termini, the prize Mercedes claimed as the best team, then 1924 was a clean sweep for the Stuttgart firm. The extensive Mercedes archive reveals old files with the original gushing press reports of victory, as they praised the team’s practice strategy, running the length of the course several times and honing its pit work with well-drilled tire changes and refueling, which had reduced each pit stop to under three minutes. 

And it mattered. At this time, private car sales volumes were exploding and the development of reliable, high-speed engines and electrics in racing really did improve the breed—and also sold cars. 

What better automobile would there be to celebrate a century of Mercedes’ racing prowess than this red winner? So, in 2022, it was taken off its banking and rolled into the museum workshops. 

And why was it painted red? The international convention of the times was that German cars were white, British cars green, Italian cars red, and French cars blue. On the Targa Florio, however, there were tales of skullduggery, with partisan locals throwing rocks and other hazards in front of non-Italian, non-red entries. Red paint was Mercedes’ way of trying to confuse the issue; from a distance, its cars would look like Italian entries. 

“It’s not a disadvantage in an Italian street race to have your car painted red,” says Marcus Breitschwerdt, the boss of the museum. And you can see how last-minute this decision was, from the fact that in the original pictures, Werner’s car used mudguards borrowed from another car with the underside left in the traditional Mercedes white.  

Despite the importance of the victory, Werner’s “winning” car didn’t stay long in the works. In 1925, it was sold to privateer Wilhelm Eberhardt. It was entered for various races, but Eberhardt so loved driving it on the road that he had the narrow body widened to better accommodate his wife as a passenger and fitted a full windscreen and lights. Thus modified, it was repurchased by the factory in 1937, displayed in various museums, and then moved to the factory museum in Untertürkheim in 1961. 

Two years ago, once it had been moved into the museum workshops, the research began in earnest and it soon became clear that what was hoped to be just a “freshen up” would in fact be an extensive rebuild, as the car hadn’t run for many years. The archive also revealed a surprising and not entirely welcome discovery… 

Poring through the records it became clear that this wasn’t Werner’s winning car; it was the tenth-placed Lautenschlager car, number 32. The fate of Werner’s car is still unclear, but the archive revealed photographs of it smashed almost beyond recognition, so it seems likely it was scrapped. Was Eberhardt sold a ringer? No one seems to know.

Notwithstanding its marginally less glorious history, the museum decided to continue with the restoration of the Lautenschlager car. The body and drivetrain were removed from the frame and the body was placed in a full-length hot box to re-anneal the metal so it could be worked on without it cracking. The drivetrain was carefully stripped and the archive found the original engineering drawings and contemporary reports. 

“We never throw anything away,” says Breitschwerdt.

Repainting the car posed its own set of problems. For a start, the paint was a turpentine-oil–based coach enamel hardly used these days. The second issue was that, although the car was still red, it had been repainted at some point long ago. That paint had weathered over the years, and all the original photographs were in black and white. What, exactly, was the original’s proper shade? 

Experts were hired from the art conservation departments of local universities and paint samples carefully examined and analyzed. “We looked in places where the painters don’t like to sand,” says Volker Lück, a master furniture restorer who was charged with hand-painting the little racer with original-style paint of the correct hue.  

Trouble was, the turpentine-based paint had to be mixed by hand with the pigment, then applied and laid off with a brush, and there were 10 layers, each taking a couple of days to dry.

“Of course, on the days I did the job, there were squadrons of suicidal flies,” says Lück, “but in the archive there were stories of Mercedes having the same problems.” 

The engine had been designed by Paul Daimler, known as the “the king of kompressors” and his replacement, Ferdinand Porsche, who had joined Daimler in April 1923. This two-liter, twin-camshaft four-cylinder was lighter than the six-cylinder equivalent and with forced induction, it produced a healthy 125 hp. The clutch-actuated Roots-type blower merely needed a refresh, as did the roller-bearing crank, but one of the cylinder liners was damaged, the water jackets were badly corroded, and the camshafts had to be metal sprayed and ground back to original spec, together with new pistons and bearings and much hard work. 

“We had to do a lot,” says Krieger, a museum engineer. “It was a sobering experience.”

That was my first introduction to the car, stripped and battered, with much still to do, and with a clock ticking, for a serious program of appearances had been planned for the old racer in its centenary year. 

There were several false starts, but I finally got to meet the car for a drive at Sindelfingen on May 8. It felt like an appointment with destiny, no public relations fanfare, no pomp and circumstance, just this red car and a team of engineers from the museum. Truth be told, I felt as if I were Werner testing the machine for the first time over 100 years ago. 

A mizzle sweeps across the track and through the circular pits. The Mercedes looks millimeter perfect, with proportions straight out of a child’s picture book. Spattered with droplets of water, the claret-red coachwork undulates gently, showing every brush stroke and blow and scrape of the old charger’s life. 

“No build-and-block and no filler,” says Gert van der Meij of Dutch specialists MCW, which has done a fair bit of the heavy lifting in this restoration. They retained as much of the original car as possible. 

The museum engineers greet me like an old friend as I pull on overalls and a flying helmet. They’ve warmed the engine but it’s so cold they’ve had to blanket half the radiator to keep the heat in. 

A century on, it feels every inch a Mercedes works racer, from the reverence the mechanics show it to the obvious care and love that has gone into its restoration and conservation, without overdoing it. This was, after all, a race car. 

Frames back then were smaller, and they have to take the entire seat padding out to accommodate my generous six-foot build. I’m sitting on bolt heads in a bare aluminum seat shell. Apparently, former F1 ace Karl Wendlinger had to do the same, so I’m in good company. 

First job is to get the photographs, and while it’s geared down for the tight Sicilian corners, the old Mercedes hates the speed-restricted running, pulling and hunting at the leash anxiously to escape the attentions of Max Balazs’ Nikon. 

Then we’re on our own, Oechsle and I, a whole test track to ourselves. The old car exits one of the banked turns and as I enter the straight, it’s now or never…

“What amazes me is how responsive this car is,” Oechsle yells in my ear as I open her up on the long straight. He’s so right, this little Mercedes feels every inch a thoroughbred as it tears up the concrete, the engine rasping, the car vibrating and twisting, almost alive in my hands. 

It feels far from vintage—anything but a hundred years old—as I push the brakes into the banking and the nose dives toward the apex. There’s progression and precision here, with little lost movement, and the wheel can be minutely adjusted with none of the see-sawing required of some of its contemporaries. On the wide track it feels tiny, but as I push the throttle again for the next straight, it’s so eager, every inch the racer as it noisily dashes between the curves. Back on the race circuit after so many dormant years. 

“You won’t leave it to rot again, will you?” I ask Oechsle as we go for a cheeky next lap (it’s that sort of car). He shakes his head. Not at all.

You’ll see this amazing survivor, the winner that wasn’t, at this year’s Goodwood Festival of Speed and then again at Pebble Beach. Before that, it’s headed to Italy for the Emilia-Romagna Grand Prix at Imola, where Mercedes-Benz F1 driver George Russell will take the wheel. 

As I write, thinking back to the drive, Oechsle is right. The little car belies its 100 years and feels really quite modern in the way it drives. I hope he’s right and Mercedes does keep this Targa Florio racer in good running condition, if only to remind us where we’ve come from and the peaks of what we’ve attained. 

***

Check out the Hagerty Media homepage so you don’t miss a single story, or better yet, bookmark it. To get our best stories delivered right to your inbox, subscribe to our newsletters.

The post Mercedes Targa Florio at 100: Lavishing Love on the Winner That Wasn’t appeared first on Hagerty Media.

In his review of the new Aston Martin Vantage, Henry Catchpole ponders wherefore and how art the 656-hp baby of the range is like a James Bond film. Of course, we are familiar with 007 driving a fine silver slice from Newport Pagnell or Gaydon, but it’s far from the only predictable trope: music, gadgets, villains, M, Q, Moneypenny—all are expected. And so it is with the spec sheet of a Vantage. 

The looks are instantly recognizable—perhaps more so than with the last generation—with classically Aston Martin design cues. And it is stunning. The AMG-sourced four-liter, twin-turbocharged V-8 is up front, as you’d expect, albeit behind the front wheels. Predictably, power goes solely to the rear wheels. It’s a script that is comforting in its familiarity. 

It is also very recognizable if you have perused the particulars of the Aston Martin DB12 that launched in 2023. In fact, save for a couple of seats and a very minor discrepancy in the power figures, they look like nearly identical cars. Even the Michelin Pilot Sport 5S tires are the same size, front and rear. So, one of the big questions for Catchpole was whether the new Vantage would feel markedly different to drive. 

The setting for the test was the countryside near Seville in southern Spain, with the blood red Rio Tinto running through it. We also took a new Vantage—this time decked out in an F1 safety car color scheme—to Circuito Monteblanco for some fast laps. Of course, we seized the opportunity to try out the handling with the new nine-stage traction control turned off, but the day also proved to be a test to see how well the Vantage’s increased cooling capability helped the car cope with temperatures approaching 90 degrees Fahrenheit. 

At $191,000, the new Aston Martin Vantage competes with the Porsche 911 Turbo S, the Mercedes AMG GT, the Ferrari Roma, and potentially the Maserati MC20. In other words, it has to stack up. Let us know in the comments whether you think the new Vantage is a Daniel Craig or a George Lazenby.

***

Check out the Hagerty Media homepage so you don’t miss a single story, or better yet, bookmark it. To get our best stories delivered right to your inbox, subscribe to our newsletters.

The post <em>The Driver’s Seat</em>: Henry Catchpole on the New Aston Martin V8 Vantage appeared first on Hagerty Media.

Porsche has concluded development of its very first 911 hybrid model. Ever the perfectionists, the engineers in Stuttgart are now satisfied that 3.1 million miles of relentless testing in an array of demanding environments have left them with a car worthy of the badge, and its unveiling will be broadcast to the world on May 28 at 9 a.m. ET.

“We left nothing to chance during development and tested the new 911 under all sorts of conditions all over the world,” said Frank Moser, vice president of the 911 and 718 model lines. This included high drivetrain loads up steep mountain passes and the slog of stop-and-go traffic in urban environments, Moser added. “The new 911 has mastered even the most difficult challenges with aplomb. From the freezing cold to scorching heat, as was the case during the final stages of testing in Dubai.”

As previously reported by Hagerty, the new hybrid model is expected to complement the lineup of ICE-powered 911s, not replace them. Although there has been no mention of an all-electric variant, Porsche is committed to the technology across the rest of its lineup: The Taycan is EV-only, while an electric Macan is newly available alongside the ICE model. Plans are afoot for electrified versions of the 718 by mid-decade and an EV Cayenne will follow that, with another electric SUV positioned above the Cayenne to debut not long after.

For now, at least, the hybrid powertrain represents the biggest leap in the 911’s powertrain in the car’s illustrious 61-year history. “This innovative performance hybrid makes the 911 even more dynamic,” Moser said. 

So dynamic, in fact, that in the hands of former racing driver and current Porsche brand ambassador Jörg Bergmeister, the hybrid lapped the Nürburgring in 7 minutes and 16.934 seconds—8.7 seconds faster than its ICE predecessor. “We have more grip, significantly more power, and the spontaneous response of the performance hybrid is a great advantage,” Bergmeister said. 

No details have yet been released with respect to the hybrid powertrain’s specifics, though certainly much R&D has trickled down from the company’s on-track efforts with the 963 endurance racer it has campaigned at Le Mans and elsewhere. We fully expect all that will be covered at the big reveal later this month, which you can watch live at newsroom.porsche.com, and on Porsche’s YouTube channel.

***

Check out the Hagerty Media homepage so you don’t miss a single story, or better yet, bookmark it. To get our best stories delivered right to your inbox, subscribe to our newsletters.

The post Porsche Will Unveil a 911 Hybrid on May 28 appeared first on Hagerty Media.

For fans of Formula 1, the biggest surprise to come from last Sunday’s Miami Grand Prix was the victory of McLaren driver Lando Norris, which not only gave the Brit his first win in racing’s top tier but also put an end to the ceaseless and frankly boring domination of Red Bull’s Max Verstappen.

Off the track, at the Bonhams auction on the Saturday before the race, we witnessed an even more unexpected result at the Miami International Autodrome, when this 2003 Aston Martin DB7 Zagato sold for a mere $168,000. “Mere” is relative, of course, because that’s starter-house money in some parts. But in the rather exclusive “1-of-XX” realm of Zagato-bodied Astons, it’s #4 (fair) condition money for a car that easily falls in the good-to-excellent (#2- / #3+) camp. Someone got a deal, in other words. 

Aston Martin and Zagato have a rich history that goes back to 1960, when the Italian carrozzeria rebodied 20 copies of the DB4 GT in a sexy, lightweight aluminum skin in order to help make them more competitive in GT racing. It didn’t really work, because the competition was stiff, mainly the Ferrari 250s, but the legacy of that first collaboration has resulted in Aston’s most valuable car, with prices ranging from $8M to $11M on the rare occasions they change hands.

The partnership then went dormant for a quarter century, until the 1984 Geneva auto show, when Aston and Zagato execs began talking shop again, this time with a plan to zhuzh up the V8 Vantage. Just 52 of the 187-mph supercars were built, each with £95,000 price tag, and each sold in the blink of an eye. An open version (37 made) followed in 1987. And then, another long fallow period. 

When it debuted in 1993, the DB7 proved to be an overnight gamechanger for the fortunes of Aston Martin. By 2002, however, it was already a decade old and had already been upgraded with an extra six cylinders, so there wasn’t a lot left to be done to keep the sleek GT fresh. Which kind of made it a prime candidate for some, uh, Zagatofication, until its DB9 successor arrived.

Talks between Aston chairman Ulrich Bez and Andrea Zagato had begun at Pebble Beach in August 2001, and by early in the new year, the project was a go. Just 99 DB7 Zagato coupes would be built, each based on the convertible Volante model and clothed in a mix of steel, aluminum, and composites and retaining only the donor car’s windshield. Every other bit of the exterior was changed, and it reflects Zagato’s trademark flourishes: short overhangs (the cars are 8 inches shorter than a standard DB7), brawny quarter panels, a higher belt line, and a double-bubble roof. The interior was clad in aniline leather, and in place of the rear seats was a package shelf. Brakes and suspension were upgraded, as was the Vantage’s V-12 engine, up from 420 hp to 440 hp, and each was mated to a six-speed manual transmission, with a top speed of 184 mph and a 0–60 time of 4.9 seconds. 

Aston took 200 orders for the £166,000 ($260,000) car, which understandably left the 101 buyers who missed out feeling hard done by. Lucky for them, a year later the company would unveil a follow-up in the DB7-based AR1, code for “American Roadster.” A hundred were built and most were aimed specifically at, you guessed it, the U.S. market.  

This left-hand-drive DB7 Zagato coupe, our Sale of the Week, is number 48 of the 99 built and believed to be one of perhaps 10 in the country, with time spent from new in Vermont, California, and Florida. It is finished Mercury Grey (the other two colors offered were Zagato Nero and Aqua Verde) and shows fewer than 14,000 original miles. At some point, the original dark brown aniline leather upholstery, which is reported to patina in lovely ways but requires upkeep to get there, was changed out for a lighter Connolly leather. It might look better, but the swap is also likely a knock to the car’s value. Maybe the miles were too; we can’t say for certain, but this can’t be the least-driven example around.

Still, as one would expect, DB7 Zagato public sales in America are rare. RM Sotheby’s sold car number 40 in 2015 for $330,000, then again in 2017 for $357,500. And, well, that’s it. In European auctions, the firm sold one in Monaco in 2014 for €235,200 ($321,260) and another in Paris in 2017 for €392,000 ($413,756). Similarly, Bonhams shows five sales between 2006 and today, all in the UK, with prices from £95,000 ($119,000) in ’06 to £359,900 ($481,454) in 2017.

By comparison, sales of the DB AR1, built in equal numbers but for these shores, seem almost commonplace, relatively speaking, with 65 recorded results over the last 20 years, from a low of $132,500 in 2012 to a high of $363,000 in 2016.

If you were only looking at the headlines from Bonhams’ Miami auction, the star of the show would undoubtedly be the 2011 Ferrari SP30 Berlinetta, a one-off built by Ferrari’s Special Projects Department that sold for $2,296,000. Time will tell if that’s a deal or not. But if you happened to be in the market for some other sort of exclusive machine, an Anglo-Italian hot rod that maybe only 98 other people happen to own, you could have done way, way worse than this bargain-basement, quite excellent DB7 Zagato. 

***

Check out the Hagerty Media homepage so you don’t miss a single story, or better yet, bookmark it. To get our best stories delivered right to your inbox, subscribe to our newsletters.

The post This Zagato-Bodied Aston DB7 Was Half Off appeared first on Hagerty Media.

If popularity hasn’t quite bred contempt for the Jeep CJ-5, it has seen this big-selling off-roader being unfairly overlooked in the gold rush for classic 4x4s. Where early Land Rovers, Range Rovers, Toyota Land Cruisers, and various other Jeep models have all attracted big interest and commensurate values, the CJ-5 has reassuringly just gotten on with things, as it has since it launched in 1954.

Over a life span of nearly 30 years, the CJ-5 evolved and adapted, and it also moved from being marketed and sold as a utilitarian workhorse to something more akin to the modern SUV. Even so, the CJ-5 never lost the basic functionality that was at the root of its appeal and abilities, and this is why it still makes for a great addition to any classic car line-up. It’s just so darned useful.

Conceived by Kaiser as a go-anywhere car for the masses, the CJ-5 was a development of the military-spec M-38A1 that had arrived in 1952. At its launch in October 1954, the CJ-5 benefitted from the M-38A1’s strong chassis, axles, brakes, suspension, transmission, and improved seating. It also came with the more rounded styling that set it apart from the earlier “flat fender” models that had been spawned by Jeeps of World War II. Other practical updates for this latest Jeep included a larger windshield and the option of a weatherproof top and doors. There was a new instrument display and a closing glovebox—hardly radical, but all small points that made the CJ-5 easier to live with.

At launch, the CJ-5 came with the trusty 134-cid 70-hp Hurricane F-head four-cylinder, coupled to a three-speed manual gearbox and Dana/Spicer two-speed transfer case. Optional after 1965 was Buick’s 155-hp 225-cid Dauntless V-6, which more than doubled the output of the Hurricane four. It didn’t take long for the buying public to take to this engine, and it quickly accounted for three quarters of all CJ-5 production. Rarest of the early CJ-5s of the ’60s were those powered by a 62-hp 192-cid Perkins diesel.

In February 1970, American Motors Corporation (AMC) acquired Jeep from Kaiser, and by 1972, the company’s changes to the CJ-5 were apparent. Primarily, AMC swapped in its 145-hp 232-cid straight-six for the Dauntless, with a 258-cid six optional (and standard by the end of the decade). In true go-big-or-go-home fashion, its 304-cid V-8 was also available, which necessitated modified bodywork and a small stretch in the wheelbase, taking it from 81 to 84 inches. Toward the end of its long life, the CJ-5 had one more engine under the hood, in the form of GM’s 151-cid Iron Duke four-cylinder.

Variations on the CJ-5 theme included a longer-wheelbase CJ-6, along with the two-wheel-drive DJ-5 often used by the United States Postal Service for mail delivery. There were also several special editions over the years—the Renegade, the Golden Eagle, the Levis Edition, etc.—all of which contributed to a total production of 603,303 CJ-5s.

What’s a CJ-5 Like to Drive?

Engine choice drives three distinct flavors of Jeep CJ-5, and which one suits your taste will depend on what you want to do with the car. Early and later four-cylinder Jeeps are, as one would expect, slower to accelerate and have a lower top speed, so if you want to head further afield, one of the bigger-engined versions will more suitable. However, the Hurricane motor works happily through its three-speed manual, and a 50-mph cruise or less is where it’s comfortable. Go for the later Iron Duke four and you gain an easy-shifting four-speed gearbox, which enables cruising at around 60 mph. If you do happen find a diesel model, its rarity makes it worth saving, but don’t expect anything other than sluggish performance.

The rugged four-cylinder engines also perform admirably off-road, thanks to the low-ratio transfer box that makes the most of their torque. However, the six-cylinder and V-8 engines offer a better all-around driving experience for anyone looking to use their Jeep on a regular basis and not just for Sunday runs. These models are able to keep pace with modern traffic and also offer more power for heading off the beaten path.

What all CJ-5s have in common is the way they drive. The steering doesn’t give much in the way of sporting sensation, of course, but it’s accurate enough and fends off kickback through the wheel when off-roading, at least when well greased and properly maintained. Jeep offered power steering as an option after AMC took over the company, and it’s worth having with the larger engines that added extra weight.

Enzo Ferrari might have described the Jeep as “America’s only true sports car,” but the handling is very much in the agricultural 4×4 camp. It can be hustled more than you’d think, and it’s generally better through corners with less lean and more grip than a contemporary Land Rover, but this is all relative and care is still needed on damp roads. In off-road situations, the nimble CJ-5 is superb and still offers go-anywhere ability to this day that few modern 4x4s can better. The suspension is neither too firm nor bouncy, but you know you’re driving a car designed for unmade tracks more than asphalt. Jeeps from 1977 gained front disc brakes, which make stopping more powerful and confidence-inspiring for drivers coming from newer cars.

You can fit four people into a CJ-5 with reasonable comfort. The driver has a great view all around, though the top does create a few blind spots when erected. A compromise is to drive with the doors fitted and the top off, or buy a bikini top to keep the worst of the rain and sun off while preserving the open feel of the cabin. In the back, there’s space for kids, and seat belts are a good upgrade if not already fitted. The same applies to a roll bar if not already equipped, which can be used to mount three-point belts for those in the front seats.

What Goes Wrong and What Should You Look for When Buying a CJ-5?

When shopping the CJ-5, your best bet may be to go for one that needs only modest work and some tidying, so that you won’t worry about driving as intended. Whether from the ’60s and equipped with the Hurricane four, or from the ’70s with either six- or eight-cylinder power, a CJ-5 in such condition (#3 Good) will set you back about $14,000–$17,000. Golden Eagles and Renegades in similar shape start at around $22,000, but when you encounter one in pristine shape, expect to pay double that.

Now, Jeeps rust. The good news is that the design of the CJ-5 makes it easier to check for corrosion than on many other classics of the same era. The rugged chassis should be your first port of call with a screwdriver or hammer to check the entire length of the frame and its outriggers, which are usually the first to succumb to rot, alongside the suspension mounts. If the chassis is completely shot to pieces, replacements are available—if you want to go down the restoration route.

The body is also prone to rust, and you should check the floors around the mounts where it fixes to the chassis. You should also look around the tops of the inner and outer wheel tubs, the rear arches, the tailgate, sills, and around the windshield where it joins the scuttle. As well as rust, it’s also advisable to look for cracks in the body and chassis metalwork, as they can fatigue through age and the stresses of off-road driving.

All of the engines found in the Jeep CJ-5 are tough, reliable, and long-lived, so any problems tend to be due to neglect, high mileage, and general wear. Look for smoke on start-up or any rattles, and check the engine for signs of oil and coolant leaks. The BorgWarner three- and four-speed manual gearboxes are typically stout, and a five-speed was offered in the last few years of production. If you want an automatic transmission, CJ also came with the reliable GM TH-400. The four-wheel-drive system in the CJ-5, with strong Dana axles and transfer cases, shouldn’t need anything other than regular servicing, unless the transfer case has been allowed to run low on oil and stretch its chain.

On a test drive, take the time to think how the steering feels. Lots of slop and the need for constant correction are almost certainly down to worn components in the steering linkage. This is also the time to be satisfied the clutch engages smoothly and the pedal doesn’t feel like the cable is snagging as it’s depressed.

The electrical system in the Jeep CJ-5 is quite simple and should not give trouble beyond corroded connections or wires that have gone brittle and broken with age. However, the ignition system for all CJ-5 engines is not the car’s strong suit, especially on AMC engines. Most should have been upgraded by now with more modern ignition, or you should budget for this important improvement.

Just as important is to make sure the Jeep has all of the correct trim and upholstery, especially if it’s one of the special-edition models, as these parts are now hard to track down. Thankfully, almost all mechanical, service, and body parts are available for the CJ-5 from specialists.

Which Is the Right CJ-5 for You?

If you have your heart set on a particular version of the Jeep CJ-5, such as a Golden Eagle or Renegade, your search might take a bit longer to find the right one. For buyers with a wider field of vision, condition is vital and then it’s down which engine will best suit your needs. Early CJs with the Hurricane four have plenty of the same character as the original wartime Jeeps, but their three-speed transmission can limit usability for longer drives. If you want a four-cylinder model with greater flexibility, don’t rule out the later AMC Jeeps with the Iron Duke and four-speed transmission.

Others will be drawn to the opposite end of the spectrum with the 304 V-8 engine. It sounds good and offers decent pace, though its power-sapped stock 150 hp means it’s not exactly rapid. How rapid do you want to be in a CJ-5, however? There are tuning options for this engine, though many Jeeps have been swapped with a larger engine—think small-block Chevys or the AMC 360—as an easier and more cost-effective route to increased power.

However, don’t rule out the six-cylinder units. The Dauntless V-6 is far less common than the Hurricane in earlier CJ-5s, but it suits the Jeep well with its revvy nature and ample power. All that said, you can’t go wrong with a CJ-5 equipped with one of the straight-sixes from the AMC era. They offer smooth, easy power and relaxed cruising, they sound good, and they are cheaper to run than the V-8.

***

Check out the Hagerty Media homepage so you don’t miss a single story, or better yet, bookmark it. To get our best stories delivered right to your inbox, subscribe to our newsletters.

The post The Jeep CJ-5 Was Built Forever to Go Wherever appeared first on Hagerty Media.

South Carolina’s ban on the “Carolina Squat” goes into effect on May 9. Though the term perhaps conjures images of a lewd dance or some new-fangled way to poop in the woods, the Carolina Squat is really just a dangerous mod on trucks and SUVs whereby owners lower the rear end and raise the front. The effect resembles a motorboat at speed. Cruising across open water with a bow partially obstructing your view is one thing. Cruising the streets of the Palmetto State, crowded as they are with people and other cars, is something else entirely. Obstructed views over the nose of these vehicles have led to vehicle collisions and pedestrian deaths. Hence, the ban.

The trend is already outlawed in North Carolina and Virginia. In South Carolina, the legislation began working its way through the hands of lawmakers in the House and Senate early last year, gaining near-unanimous support from both chambers, before being put to Governor Henry McMaster last May. The language of the law states: 

It shall be unlawful for any person to drive a passenger motor vehicle, including vehicles commonly referred to as pickup trucks, on the highways of this State if, by alteration of the suspension, frame, or chassis, the height of the front fender is raised or lowered four or more inches greater than the height of the rear fender. For purposes of this subsection, the height of the fender shall be a vertical measurement from and perpendicular to the ground, through the centerline of the wheel, and to the bottom of the fender. As contained in this item, “fender” means the pressed and formed part mounted over the road wheels of a motor vehicle to reduce the splashing of mud, water, or similar substances.

Another section of the law addresses any passenger vehicle “which has been elevated or lowered, yet still leveled, more than six inches by a modification, alteration, or change in the physical structure of the vehicle.” Pickup trucks are exempted from this law, however. 

The ban went into effect November 12, 2023, but gave Carolina Squatters a 180-day grace period to remedy their skyward rides, with officers issuing warnings only. That grace period ends May 9, after which time violators face fines of $100 for a first offense, $200 for the second offense, and $300 plus a one-year license suspension for the third offense. 

Although we generally accept the maxim that racing improves the breed, clearly, sometimes it just makes things dumber. In this case, the Carolina Squat has its origins in Baja off-road racing, where desert trucks often employ negative rake as way to help absorb bumps and hard landings in their long-travel front suspension. From there originated the “California Lean,” and it was only a matter of time before the trend spread via social media.  

Famously, the Concorde supersonic jet overcame the issue of obstructed views with an articulated nose, which lowered 12.5 degrees during take-off, landing, and taxiing, to allow the pilots to see clearly. There’s been no word yet on whether some enterprising customizer has sought to circumvent the long arm of South Carolina law by installing hinges on the front end of a Tahoe, but if we hear of anything, we’ll keep you posted. 

The post South Carolina to Ban the “Carolina Squat” This Week appeared first on Hagerty Media.

My love of performance race cars began at Watkins Glen in 1952. Racing was a passion for my folks’ friends, so that was where we went whenever they were racing. Often, a fender bender in Friday’s time trials would put someone out of the competition for the weekend. 

In the 1950s, there was an avid racer named Bill Devin. He loved Ferraris but couldn’t afford one. Instead, he started making fiberglass bodies that could fit a variety of chassis. More specifically, they could be retrofitted to a crashed car and get it back on the track for racing. That morphed into a kit-car business. 

In July 1959, the cover of Hot Rod magazine promised exclusive cutaway art of Bill Devin’s newest creation, the Devin SS. The car was available in both finished form and as a kit. It had a tubular chassis, four-wheel independent suspension with disc brakes, Chevrolet V-8 power with a four-speed manual transmission, and a fiberglass body. It was far more exotic than any ’59 Corvette.  

Devins enjoyed great racing success, especially in SCCA competition, notching up several class and overall victories between 1958 and 1963. At Pikes Peak, hot rodder Ak Miller raced his Devin, in a variety of configurations, between 1958 and ’66, where he claimed six victories there in the C class. 

I have been fascinated with Devin cars for as long as I can remember. Several years ago, I restored a 1957 Devin S, and while I was scavenging parts I found a Devin SS body, so I bought it and tucked it away for the future.

When the “the future” finally arrived, my idea was to build a high-performance tribute car, which I called the Devin Z—to represent the very last Devin. I described my concepts to automotive custom designer Brian Stupski and hired him to create several renderings of what I was thinking.

Using the old SS body as a base, we re-engineered the wheelbase and track width to provide a slightly larger footprint that would account for greater overall performance afforded by modern components. I then commissioned a custom tube chassis from SRIII Motorsport, with four-wheel independent suspension and disc brakes using Corvette control arms. We added crash bars and rollover hoops for safety and incorporated Viking’s interactive “Berserker” coilover shocks.

Bill Devin was a huge fan of Chevrolet’s small-block V-8 and Muncie four-speed transmission, so it was important to me to retain a GM driveline. I asked Brian Thomson at Thomson Automotive to build me a dry-sump LS7 and fitted it with Harrop’s fuel-injected side-draft intake. Power—697 hp at the crank—goes to the rear wheels through a McLeod dual-disc clutch and a six-speed Getrag transaxle. Ignition and traction control are courtesy of Holley’s Dominator ECU and a Holley Digital Dash sits in front of the passenger seat, with a trick carbon cover when not in use. 

I mocked up the stainless-steel fuel tank using cardboard and repeatedly installed and uninstalled it with the body in place to assure myself it could be done once the car was finished. It sits well protected behind the roll bars and under the down bars. 

Because I had that original SS body as a platform, we were able to build onto it with foam and carve that up to achieve the desired shape. We then gave that sculpture to Motor City Solutions to create a mold for a one-off carbon-fiber body that weighed in at 161 pounds.

Meanwhile, all of the fabrication and assembly of the inner body panels, the wheel wells, the heat extractors, the engine bay, the interior panels, the fuel tank, the exhaust headers, and the side exhaust with protective shrouds were hand-made by Dave Daunheimer at Competition Fabrications. B-Forge supplied the custom wheels, with Billet Specialties helping me develop the custom adaptations to simulate knockoffs. John Hein of Riggs Brothers was responsible for the interior, and D&M Corvettes did the finish bodywork and paint. That color, Devin Z Blue, is a one-off made from discontinued PPG tints. Of course, I have an extra gallon for any misadventures.

Many of the components—the windshield base, the headlight lenses and taillight bezels, the interior escutcheons—are one-off CNC-machined originals. I began each of these components using cosplay plastics, creating an original piece that I then had laser-scanned to be machined out of aluminum. You might think the most challenging bit was the windshield base due to the complex body curves. It was difficult, yes, but the headlight lenses proved to be my nightmare—right up to the car’s debut at the 2022 Detroit Autorama.  

It all came together, however, and we were rewarded at Autorama then the Devin was selected as one of the Great 8 finalists for the Ridler Award. 

I understand that most people think it’s a kit car. It’s not. It’s an authentic, roadworthy, hand-built performance car that took 6000 hours to build. And though it debuted as a show car, it will do its best work on the track. Because it’s a tribute to a not-so-famous guy, Bill Devin. He was no Carroll Shelby, but he made significant contributions to and for the racers of his day. 

The post Not Just a Pretty Face, This Devin Z Was Built for Track Time appeared first on Hagerty Media.

The “featured classified” today on the overlanding community site Expeditionportal.com is a 2021 EarthCruiser FX, a go-anywhere lux RV built on the Mitsubishi Fuso 4×4 platform. With just 9300 miles on the clock, it could be yours for the low-low price of $300,000, which is essentially half the cost of a new one. Such a deal.

Elsewhere on the site, however, there is much ballyhoo about the company behind the beastly truck, EarthCruiser. Based in Bend, Oregon, since opening its doors in 2008, the firm quite suddenly announced last week that it was closing its doors, effective April 25. So, get ’em while you can, I guess?

In a release posted to the company’s website, EarthCruiser stated that “changing market dynamics and economic challenges have made it increasingly difficult to sustain operations going forward.” The high-end overlanding market has indeed changed, as the “Head for the hills!” panic buying that allowed well-heeled work-from-homers to commission exotic builds and then hit the road during the height of the Covid-19 pandemic has mostly disappeared. 

Supply-chain issues have taken their toll on the business, as have the changing economics involved in the purchase of machines such as these; the pool of people willing to plunk down 20 percent with long-term (read: 20-year) financing at, say, 7 percent interest, on an overlanding house that depreciates faster than you can air down those 37-inch tires has become a much harder proposition. And, as with nearly every sector, costs are up. Except, in this particular sector, they’re way, way up. In 2018, for example, a base EarthCruiser FX started at $255,000. By 2024, the starting price was $595,000. The Ford F-350–based Terranova model, meanwhile, once around $100,000 now starts at $350,000.

“Our journey over the past years has been extraordinary,” company founder Lance Gillies said in the release. “Although this decision marks the end of an era, we are proud of our legacy and impact on the world of travel, automotive innovation, and overlanding. We hope our vehicles, our customers, and their stories will continue to inspire the adventurous spirit in all of us.”

EarthCruiser is not the only name in this space, of course, with dozens of niche manufacturers doing their best to cater to the existing customer base and adapt to the way it has changed, particularly as used vehicles at big discounts continue to flood the market. It will be interesting to see whether more dominoes fall as this segment continues to contract.

The post Overlanding Mainstay EarthCruiser Calls It Quits appeared first on Hagerty Media.

April 17 marked sixty years since the Ford Mustang’s public debut at the 1964 New York World’s Fair. The original pony car immediately became a pop-culture and automotive phenom, and it remains one of the most impactful cars in history. Click here to follow along with our multi-week 60 Years of Mustang coverage. —Ed.

It was too early for the phone to ring. One of my workers was on the line, out of breath, saying that the Mustang was gone. Stolen!  

I had left my beloved ’65 Mustang GT convertible in the fenced, locked yard at my office. The thieves managed to cut multiple padlocks, moved a 15-foot truck, and got away with my baby.

When I was a teenager growing up in Mexico, I saw the French movie A Man and a Woman and fell in love—with the ’65 Mustang convertible. I told my mom, “I’m going to have that car one day.” Years later, I graduated from college in the U.S. and surprised my mom by showing off El Poni, my Rangoon Red ’65 Mustang GT convertible. She cried.

Fast forward a couple of decades, and El Poni was on blocks in the garage, with vermin living comfortably in the engine compartment. My wife told me I needed to fix it or sell it. I couldn’t part with the car, so I put in the time and money to build it into a show piece. I was rewarded with the biggest surprise of my life when I won the Mayor’s Trophy at the 2019 La Jolla Concours d’Elegance.

A few months later, we were in the middle of the Covid pandemic, and El Poni was gone. I was heartbroken, and so were my friends and family. My wife and I drove around neighborhoods in hopes of finding the car, to no avail. We reported the theft but heard nothing.

Then, a miracle. A year and a half after the theft, I found a listing for a red ’65 Mustang GT convertible on eBay. I stared at the photos and saw that the rear window was glass instead of vinyl. Then I saw the custom armrest. Then the gold-painted air filter painted gold. I knew it was mine.

Amazingly, the people selling on eBay listed their city and included a photo of the car taken in front of their condo. A detective from the Chino Police Department, who happened to own a ’66 Mustang convertible, located the car with the assistance of the California Highway Patrol. The VIN plate on the driver’s side had been punched out. To verify the VIN, the passenger-side fender—held on by 18 bolts—would have to be removed. The detective had a better idea: He asked if there was something specific that would identify the car as mine. I remembered I’d put a red plastic straw in the windshield washer bag to hold it up. And when the detective opened the hood, he exclaimed “Yep, it’s your car! Come and get it.”

I went to church and lit a candle, so grateful to have this beloved car once again.

***

Check out the Hagerty Media homepage so you don’t miss a single story, or better yet, bookmark it. To get our best stories delivered right to your inbox, subscribe to our newsletters.

The post Red Straw to the Rescue! Mustang GT Stolen and Recovered appeared first on Hagerty Media.

April 17 marked 60 years since the Ford Mustang’s public debut at the 1964 New York World’s Fair. The original pony car immediately became a pop-culture and automotive phenom, and it remains one of the most impactful cars in history. We’re celebrating with stories of the events surrounding the Mustang’s launch, the history of the early cars, and tales from owners. Click here to follow along with our multi-week 60 Years of Mustang coverage. -Ed.

When the 289 in my 1965 GT Mustang was ready for a rebuild after 15 years of driving, I made a decision not unfamiliar to owners of original Mustangs: If I was going to pull the car’s motor and have it overhauled, why not take the next step and upgrade the driving experience? Rather than opting for a stroker kit, a roller cam, or some other modern engine upgrade, however, I decided to do something a bit more historic: a period-correct conversion of my car’s original 225-hp A-code into a replica of the high-performance, solid-lifter K-code 289. In fact, while my mechanic and I were at it, why not push the replica idea to the next step and give the car a “Cobra 289,” the 306-hp version of the engine Carroll Shelby tweaked for the GT350?

Now, this kind of transformation has been an enthusiast option that goes all the way back to 1965. It’s been the subject plenty of magazine and online articles and videos, and you can buy replica K-code 289s on eBay.

The coupe was far and away the most common body style of those original Mustangs. Ford moved more than a million coupes in the first generation but barely 100,000 fastbacks, and two-thirds of those sold in 1965. After the first year’s novelty, fastback sales plunged drastically.

For those of us who were on the scene then, none of this is a mystery. The coupes were minimally less expensive than the fastback or convertible, but that wasn’t the reason 80 percent of all 1965–66 Mustangs were coupes. Rather, the ’60s generation simply preferred the original, the version Lee Iacocca sprang on the world in the spring of 1964, the car that won the Tiffany Award for Excellence in Design. At a time when many Mustang buyers owned only one car, coupes offered a slight advantage in rear seat headroom and trunk space over fastbacks. They even possessed a slight performance edge as they were the lightest of the three body styles. As dazzling as the sleek fastbacks seem now, as fetching as convertibles are in the market, in the 1960s, it was easy to be smitten with the Mustang coupe. Only after about 1968 did the fastback Mustang begin to replace the coupe in our collective affections.

In high school and college I owned three Mustangs—a pair of Springtime Yellow ’66 coupes and a Candy Apple Red ’68 fastback. But none of those cars approached the special qualities of the car I bought in 2004 to salve my Mustang nostalgia. What I had always swooned over was an original GT, the first performance/cosmetic version of the Mustang. Offered only with the two top engines, Mustang GTs got disc brakes, quicker steering, and stiffer suspensions, along with eye candy like round gauges with 140-mph speedometers, fog lights, trumpet exhausts through the rear body, and racing stripes.

The GT cars were beautiful regardless of body style, but another original Mustang truth is that the majority of factory GT cars were coupes. Most weren’t strippers, though. As period road tests (like the one Motor Trend did of a ’66 GT) and books on Mustang history offer as evidence, a common look for the original GT Mustang was a coupe with a two-tone body, with rocker panel racing stripes matched to a black or cream vinyl top designed to set off a complementary paint color. It was a striking aesthetic combination then, and still is now.

This was the Mustang that had always entranced me. What I found and bought in 2004 was one of the first run of Mustang GTs built. It came out of the San Jose plant in May 1965, the second full month of GT production, as a two-toned coupe with white stripes and cream vinyl top gracing a Silver Blue body. Driven off the truck onto the Al Cheney Ford lot in Santa Cruz, California, the car was absolutely loaded. Beyond the GT package and A-code 289, its options included Cruise-O-Matic, air conditioning, power steering, Rally-Pac gauges, styled-steel wheels, dual red-band tires, an Equalock differential, deluxe two-tone interior, deluxe steering wheel, deluxe seat belts, a console, radio, a vinyl top, banded tinted glass, the convenience group, backup lights, an interior-controlled side mirror, a passenger side mirror, and two-speed wipers. Despite lacking the ultimate option—the Hi-Po engine—with delivery and dealer prep, this car was a $4000 showroom starlet, rare altitude for a factory Mustang.

Then there was its subsequent history. As a loaded GT, it had clearly impressed its early owners enough that when it came to me 40 years down the line, not only were its factory engine and transmission still in place, it still sported all its date-coded tinted glass. Equally indicative of a rare, no-hit lifetime, fore and aft it wore its first set of dealer license plate frames from that initial Santa Cruz sale at Al Cheney Ford. Fingering the patina on its worn ignition key, a friend offered that when that key was bright and new this car would have been cruising California’s Highway 1 with the Beatles’ latest, Rubber Soul, playing on its radio.

The car came to me with a ten-year-old, mostly cosmetic restoration familiar to anyone who watches auto-garage TV. The engine had gotten a rebuild, and the car had been resprayed in its original color and given a new interior. Aesthetically, it was gorgeous. Beneath the skin, as a mechanic who looked at it for me said, it was “bone stock.” I proceeded to replace the woodgrain appliques on the dash with real wood and attended to various faults as they surfaced. But in its new home at the foot of the Rockies in Santa Fe, New Mexico, for its next 20,000 miles I mostly just drove it. Eventually, a tired and protesting suspension, grabbing brakes, faltering compression, and oil smoke on start-up signaled the time for a full mechanical restoration.

In good tune, a 289 Mustang is a lovely road-trip or daily-driver car. Few of us really use collector cars that way, though. I mostly drive my classics on local roads to enjoy their acceleration, their throttle response, and the analog way they react to driver inputs. An A-code 289 is still torquey enough to run light-to-light with modern city traffic, but no one would call it scintillating on an empty road. No one did in the day, for that matter. Motor Trend’s road test of a ’66 GT yielded a 0–60 time of 9.5 seconds and the quarter-mile in 17 seconds, at 81 mph. Riding in the Silver Blue coupe the first time, my wife’s reaction was, “So this is mainly a car that sounds nice, huh?”

So, with a loaded and very sound ’65 GT in need of a mechanical restoration, the time was at hand for whatever upgrades I envisioned for it. Why not impart, then, the kind of performance those GT cosmetics and red-band tires had always implied? Why not give this GT that one option it didn’t get in 1965?

A historical upgrade seemed proper, anyway. This was a car so straight out of the ’60s it begged for a period hop-up. I turned the restoration over to Steve Chiulli of Green Monkey Coachworks in Santa Fe. Operating from my obsessively researched build plans, Chiulli launched a mechanical restoration that took nearly eight months. Saving the replica Cobra 289 engine for the moment, here’s what we created.

An entirely new suspension was part of the work, so we started by mimicking one of the handling tricks Shelby’s shakedown driver, Ken Miles, developed for the GT350: dropping the pivot point for the control arms one inch to keep the wheels upright in fast cornering. This gave the finished car the raked stance of the 1965 GT350. We used another Shelby/Miles trick to get additional stiffness, adding the more robust “export brace” and a “Monte Carlo bar” to the engine bay. As with GT350s, red Koni shocks became a part of the rebuilt suspension. We then traded out the leisurely 3.00:1 A-code final gearing for a much shorter 3.80:1 ring-and-pinion limited-slip differential. With the A-code’s 8-inch differential, that was the closest match to the 3.89:1 Shelby utilized in the 8.75-inch diff of the GT350. Finally, following Ford’s lead when it mated the K-code with Cruise-O-Matic, we gave the transmission a general uprating along with a shift kit.

Converting my A-code 289 into a replica Hi-Po, then Shelbyizing it to GT350 specs, was the heart of this rebuild. And critical to the beating heart of the Ford high-performance 289 was its solid-lifter camshaft. We sourced one for my engine from Comp Cams, whose Nostalgia Plus K-Kit promised a “tight lash with the distinctive sound and character of Ford’s 271-hp 289.” Installing this re-creation Hi-Po cam in my rebuilt 289 block involved machining the A-code heads to accommodate a K-code valvetrain, including recessing the spring seats for the stronger valve springs and machining for screw-in rocker arms. New flat-topped pistons provided the K-code’s high compression. That done, we replaced the cast A-code intake with an aluminum hi-riser, then changed out the 480-cfm Autolite four-barrel for a remanufactured 600-cfm Autolite. Shelby used a 715-cfm Holley on manual GT350s, but his automatic cars retained the 600, so we did, too.

On the exhaust end, Tri-Y headers replaced the A-code manifolds, then fed through MagnaFlow glasspack mufflers to the standard GT trumpet exhausts. Rather than the original dual-point distributor, we added spark with an electronic MSD unit with mechanical advance and a Flamethrower coil. Other additions involved replacing base 289 motor mounts with K-code motor mounts and installing a K-code harmonic balancer and high pressure oil pump with the larger Cobra oil pan. Classic 1965 Cobra valve covers provided the final touch.

The result is a luxury GT Mustang wrapped around the performance drivetrain of a GT350, and it runs and drives like a sports car.

For those who have never driven a Cobra or a Mustang outfitted with the high-performance 289 engine (I hadn’t), it’s a revelation. Whirring solid-lifters and a shorter axle make for a noisier drive than in ordinary Mustangs, but the snarling throttle response, ability to rev beyond 6000 rpm, and strong acceleration pull at any speed are exciting, even half a century later. Rebuilt this way, a Mustang that had been a pretty but sedate commuter now steers, brakes, corners, accelerates, and sounds like a performance sports coupe. I’m a convert.

***

Check out the Hagerty Media homepage so you don’t miss a single story, or better yet, bookmark it. To get our best stories delivered right to your inbox, subscribe to our newsletters.

The post Mustang Member Story: The K-Code Transformation of a ’65 GT appeared first on Hagerty Media.

April 17 marked 60 years since the Ford Mustang’s public debut at the 1964 New York World’s Fair. The original pony car immediately became a pop-culture and automotive phenom, and it remains one of the most impactful cars in history. We’re celebrating with stories of the events surrounding the Mustang’s launch, the history of the early cars, and tales from owners. Click here to follow along with our multi-week 60 Years of Mustang coverage. -Ed.

On the Wednesday before the new Mustang debuted at this year’s Rolex 24 at Daytona, Ford presented its Spirt of Ford Award to the team behind the Mustang’s first-ever racing victory 60 years earlier.

That inaugural win wasn’t scored on American soil, nor even by an American team, but at the 1964 Tour de France and contested by British outfit Alan Mann Racing (AMR)—a team that had been established only that year by racer and subsequent team manager Alan Mann.

Mann passed away in 2012, but his sons, Henry and Tom, collected the award at the American Muscle Car Museum, and they continue to run AMR to this day. We spoke with them at Daytona a few days later about how an unknown British team from Byfleet, Surrey, got a big-time Ford contract, about what happened next, how their involvement with the original Mustang continues, and the mystery that still surrounds that winning car’s whereabouts.

Alan Mann was still a young man when the Ford connection began. “My dad worked for a Ford dealer on the south coast called Alan Andrews, which had a successful racing operation, and Ford of America invited a couple of British Cortina teams over to race in the Marlboro 12 Hours [at the now-defunct Marlboro Motor Raceway in Maryland] and at Bridgehampton in 1963,” says Henry. “My dad was running one of them with his British drivers, and Holman-Moody were running some Falcons with their NASCAR guys.”

When the Brits beat domestic Falcons it caused quite a stir, but rather than bristling at the unwelcome competition, John Holman saw an opportunity—his team disliked competing in European events with Galaxies and Falcons, so he introduced Mann to Ford management.

With Mann aged just 27, Ford suggested he establish his own company and run the European arm of its Total Performance program, which involved racing in various categories across continents. Things moved quickly.

“That led to them running Falcons in the 1964 Monte Carlo Rally,” says Henry, noting that the Falcon shares much with its pony-car sibling. “The cars were all built at Holman-Moody, then brought into Lincoln Cars Ltd. in the Great West Road, which was Ford’s British distributor for American vehicles at the time.” Ford’s trust was repaid when the Falcon Sprint driven by Swede Bo Ljungfeldt came second to Paddy Hopkirk’s Mini Cooper S that January.

“After they got back from the Monte,” says Henry, “Ford shipped over an early pre-production Mustang, number 3 I think, with a 260 V-8 and a three-speed gearbox. It was fairly standard and not quite the spec it would end up being—there were still some Falcon bits on it—but they did testing and homologation work. It had to be very secret. When a photographer got some shots of them testing at Goodwood, he had to be persuaded to destroy his film.”

Come June, Ford shipped over four Mustangs with Hi-Po 289 engines for the Tour de France—a 10-day, 4000-mile marathon that lapped France like a boot pointing out to the Atlantic, taking in race tracks, hill climbs, and sprints as it moved clockwise from Rennes in the northwest and eventually back to Paris.

Three Mustangs would compete, the fourth acting as a support car driven by Alan Mann and cannibalized as necessary. All wore AMR’s new red-and-gold livery—much like a British postbox and now synonymous with the team—after Mann had struggled to distinguish his Lotus Cortina at the Nürburgring in 1964 from a number of others all wearing white-and-green war paint. “Ford would supply bodies in white or red, and red helped him tell them apart,” Henry says. “Then it was a case of ‘What goes with red?’ The first car in red and gold was a 1964 Lotus Cortina.”

A previous Hagerty story on AMR’s efforts covers Peter Procter and co-driver Andrew Cowan’s Tour de France win of the Touring class in-depth, but Henry notes that, along with exceptional driving, two other factors in particular contributed.

“They’d been a bit unsuccessful in the Marathon de la Route [a series of long-distance European road rallies] with two other cars, which was a pretty intensive event, and they went off the road in Yugoslavia but learned a lot,” he explains. “My dad was also lucky, because there was a Vickers [engineering] plant near AMR’s base in Brooklands, so there were a lot of really talented metalworkers and mechanics in that area, and a huge part of the job in those days was to keep the cars running.”

Not only did the Mustang win the Tour de France to end Jaguar’s long-term dominance, but another AMR Mustang placed second. Had the final Mustang not been disqualified for a push-start, it would’ve been a 1-2-3.

Alan Mann Racing went on to further success with the Mustang, winning the British Saloon Car Championship in 1965—50 years before the Mustang would officially arrive in dealerships in the UK—while Jacky Ickx contested some rounds of the 1965 European Touring Car Championship with one.

“After that there were no more Mustangs run by my dad in period,” Henry says. “It had kind of had its day in frontline competition, but AMR moved onto other things—the GT40s, Escorts, Shelby Cobra Daytonas…”

In fact, AMR won the 1965 World GT Championship with the Daytona, the 1965 European Touring Car Championship with the Cortina, and then took the Falcon and Escort to consecutive British Saloon Car Championships in ’67 and ’68. AMR even contested Le Mans with the GT40 in ’66 and ’69, though a finish eluded them.

Then Ford wound down its Total Performance program. “Once Ford pulled the plug in 1970 and went more into rallying, my dad withdrew from racing, didn’t see his old friends, and concentrated on his aviation business,” says Henry.

That was that—for a quarter of a century. Then a Cobra reunion at Sears Point in 1995 reignited interest, and when Goodwood’s historic events started to take off, Alan was invited to drive some of his old cars, apparently surprised that people remembered him.

Tom Mann adds that during their childhood, the two youngsters had no real appreciation of how successful their dad had been long before he started a family. They were startled when fans began approaching him for autographs at Goodwood.

The return of Alan Mann Racing proper came in a roundabout way in 2004. The brother of Henry’s school friend asked what he should campaign in historic motorsport, and Mann senior suggested a Mustang, citing strength, parts availability, power, and affordability. He soon found himself project-managing the build.

“He sourced a car in the U.S., contacted Lee Holman at Holman-Moody, and thought ‘Well, if he’s having one, I might as well have one too,’” recalls Henry. “He persuaded some of the mechanics from back in the day to prepare the car and started to get back into racing big time. It was like a switch flipped in his brain.

“Historic racing was quite clubby back then, and I think he just enjoyed spending time with [fellow racers] John Whitmore, Jack Sears, and Frank Gardner,” Henry remembers. “I was about 13 and started tagging along at races, going to get diff oil and coffee for mechanics, things like that. As he got ill, he said I should drive—he got me a driver coach and I started to get more involved.”

When the founder passed away in 2012, Alan Mann Racing was handed down to the brothers. Today it remains synonymous with Ford, being particularly renowned for its Mustang builds. It is still based on the same Fairoaks airfield site that has been AMR headquarters since 1970, and the brothers are currently finishing off a 1957 Fairlane and a Mk II Cobra, among various Mustangs. Occasionally they undertake road-car restorations, including the Mustang ePower that Hagerty recently tested, but mostly it’s about prepping ’60s Fords for historic motorsport, with Mustangs a particular speciality.

“My dad was a good development driver,” says Henry, “so we had a good spec sorted out on a historic Mustang by the time he passed away, and we’ve stuck with that ever since.”

At the Goodwood Members’ Meeting in England earlier this month, five of the 30-car grid contesting the Ken Miles Cup were AMR-prepared. Ford boss Jim Farley even shared an AMR Mustang with legendary touring car racer Steve Soper.

None of the four cars that entered the 1964 Tour de France were on the grid, but in this 60th year of the Mustang, Tom and Henry are keen to track down the long-lost winner. The fate of the three other cars, however, is known. The car disqualified from third position—registration DPK 5B—has already been restored by AMR and now appropriately lives in France. The second-place DPK 6B won the British Saloon Car Championship in 1965 and was then sold to a club racer, who suffered a fatal accident at Silverstone. The brothers believe it was subsequently crushed. And the support car driven by their father has been “in a leaky lock-up in north London since 1972, still with the Holman-Moody race engine in it, but it’s sadly not very good,” says Henry. “If the owner’s going to do anything with it, this is the year.”

The winning car—DPK 7B—remains the biggest mystery of all. “It was air-freighted back from France to America at the end of the rally and did a press tour, but no one knows where it is now,” says Henry.

“When we received the Spirit of Ford award, a guy introduced himself to us who’s writing a book about these cars, and he has a theory it started in the first Trans Am race, but it’s almost impossible to prove,” adds Tom.

There is, apparently, a concerted effort within Ford to find that car this year. Sixty years after a little British team gave the Mustang its first win a long way from home, nothing would make the brothers happier.

***

Check out the Hagerty Media homepage so you don’t miss a single story, or better yet, bookmark it. To get our best stories delivered right to your inbox, subscribe to our newsletters.

The post When Alan Mann Racing Gave the Mustang Its First Victory appeared first on Hagerty Media.

Welcome to This Week on Hagerty Marketplace, a recurring recap of the previous week’s most noteworthy cars and significant sales from the Hagerty Marketplace online auctions.

If this week’s selection of vehicles were a Jeopardy! category, it’d be “Potpourri.” A bit of this, a bit of that. Which kind of encapsulates the brilliant variety not only of this hobby, but of online selling platforms. If ancient British prototypes aren’t your thing, hey, maybe German droptops are. Or good ol’ American 4x4s. Whatever your predilections, if you browse the listings long enough, you’ll find what you’re after. Here’s what folks were after this week.

1937 Morgan 4/4 Standard Special Prototype

Sold for $35,417

By the mid-1930s, the Morgan Motor Company was well into its transition from building three-wheeled cyclecars to four-wheeled motorcars. That attempt, the 4/4, would enter production in 1936 and carry on, astonishingly, until 2018. Just a year into production, Morgan lost its engine supply from Coventry Climax, so it turned to Standard Motor Company for a replacement. The car pictured here was the prototype fitted with the first 1267-cc Standard Special engine. It was driven and raced extensively with some success for years by company scion Peter Morgan, before coming to the U.S. to live out a second life in vintage racing. This is a well-documented, well-preserved bit of Brit-car history that sold for the kind of money any ordinary 4/4 roadster in #3 Good condition might.

1985 Porsche 911 Carrera Cabriolet

Sold for $51,895

Few cars are as “Radwood” as Grand Prix White 911 cabriolets. This one, a “Rest of World” Carrera, rather than one originally built for the U.S. market, was imported from Germany to Florida when new, and it has remained there with three owners ever since. With its slightly different credentials, the changes include a more powerful 3.2-liter engine (234 hp vs. 200 hp in U.S. versions), a factory-installed rear spoiler, Euro-specific lighting, and smaller rear bumperettes. Upon import, the metric odometer was changed out for a standard one, which now shows 82,540 miles. This Carrera cabrio is no spring chicken, but service records indicate it has been treated like one. And it sold accordingly, its price falling right between our #3 Good and #2 Excellent valuation. 

1997 Chevrolet Tahoe LT

Sold for $32,367

Vintage Chevy SUVs have been on the radar for some time now, with classic K5 Blazers of the 1970s and ’80s enjoying a steady rise in value in the last decade. Increased interest in newer full-size Chevy SUVs, or Tahoes, if you will, is more recent, with those prices starting to climb in the last four years. While larger four-door models became ubiquitous family haulers in the suburbs, two-doors kept a lower profile. This 29,000-mile Tahoe LT is about as clean as they come, with a great red-over-silver color scheme, shiny newer GM wheels (the originals are included), and a push bar mounted on the front. Many of these workhorse trucks got used up, and it’s only going to get more difficult to find them in this condition. The sale price here reflected that, as it went for strong money, right between our #2 Excellent and #1 Concours valuations.

***

Check out the Hagerty Media homepage so you don’t miss a single story, or better yet, bookmark it. To get our best stories delivered right to your inbox, subscribe to our newsletters.

The post This Week on Hagerty Marketplace: Variety, That Spice of Life appeared first on Hagerty Media.

April 17 marks 60 years since the Ford Mustang’s public debut at the 1964 New York World’s Fair. The original pony car immediately became a pop-culture and automotive phenom, and it remains one of the most impactful cars in history. We’re celebrating with stories of the events surrounding the Mustang’s launch, the history of the early cars, and tales from owners. Click here to follow along with our multi-week 60 Years of Mustang coverage. -Ed.

In 1979, while living in Columbus, Montana, my wife and I purchased our first Mustang, a rust-free ’66, and spent several thousand dollars having it restored to show quality. The car spent many months in and out of various garages for extensive work—an engine and transmission rebuild, new brakes and fuel system, new interior, and a beautiful new paint job.

Five days after picking up the Mustang from the paint shop, our daughter was driving it to meet a bus at school when an oil truck turned left in front of her and she hit the truck broadside. Luckily, our daughter wasn’t seriously injured, but the accident totaled the Mustang.

I wanted another Mustang, so I started searching almost immediately. I looked at several 1965–67 models, and while many looked good from the outside, up on the lift I noted severe problems. I wanted a straight, rust-free original, and after nearly four months of looking, I found a 1965 GT—an original A-code with a 289 V-8 and automatic transmission. The car looked sharp in its original Springtime Yellow paint with black GT stripes.

Over next five years, we drove it periodically on sunny days, but in 1985 we relocated to northern Ohio, and I drove that ’65 across the country with no problems. In 1990, after another move, to southern Ohio, we put the Mustang in storage, driving it 100–200 miles a year just to keep it running. In 1998, those periodic drives stopped and the car sat unused until 2016, when we decided to give the Mustang to our 40-year-old son, who had wanted it for many years.

Over the next 13 months, we had the car completely restored, and today it is again a beautiful GT that looks like it just came off the showroom floor.

***

Check out the Hagerty Media homepage so you don’t miss a single story, or better yet, bookmark it. To get our best stories delivered right to your inbox, subscribe to our newsletters.

The post Mustang Member Story: A Showroom-Fresh GT appeared first on Hagerty Media.

April 17 marks 60 years since the Ford Mustang’s public debut at the 1964 New York World’s Fair. The original pony car immediately became a pop-culture and automotive phenom, and it remains one of the most impactful cars in history. We’re celebrating with stories of the events surrounding the Mustang’s launch, the history of the early cars, and tales from owners. Click here to follow along with our multi-week 60 Years of Mustang coverage. -Ed.

This is the story of a “survivor” Mustang that was purchased twice by the same man, my father-in-law, Gene Herring of Belle Plaine, Iowa, almost 40 years apart.

In the late spring of 1964, Gene was in bed recovering from the mumps when he saw a two-page ad in Look magazine for the new Ford Mustang. The car pictured was Prairie Bronze, and in an instant he knew he would have one.

On June 20, he walked into Winders Motor Co. in Bell Plaine and placed his order. “I got to pick out the colors I wanted, the engine, everything,” he told me. And what he wanted was a Prairie Bronze hardtop. The 260-cubic-inch V-8 was only available for order from March 5 to July 31, and that’s what he chose, paired with a three-speed manual, plus the following options: center console, power steering, air conditioning, AM radio, tinted glass, padded visors, and backup lights. He didn’t order the driver’s side mirror, due to its placement, so instead he had the dealership mount a mirror from a 1963 Galaxie farther down the hood.

Gene had a number of other cars in addition to the Mustang, but this one was his pride and joy. Both his daughters came home in it from the hospital when they were born. He loved to take it on trips, and he always drove it in the local 4th of July parades.

By 1978, the family had outgrown the car. “We had two little girls and we figured we needed a station wagon,” he said. After 14 years and 62,000 miles, Gene traded in the car to a friend at Bevins Ford who was also a Mustang admirer. Instead of selling the car, he decided clean up some rust around the rockers (Iowa gravel roads) and keep it in his showroom for 25 years. He took it out on occasion for parades with a “Not for Sale” sign in the window.

This is the part of the story where I come in. I’m the current owner, married to Gene’s eldest daughter. I’m a lover of original cars. Always have been. My wife and I started dating in 1996, and when I first met my future father-in-law that year, he told me the story of his Mustang. I told him if Bevins was to ever offer him his car back to just say yes! We’d come up with the money somehow. I wanted him to have that car back probably as much as he did.

Well, in October 2003, the “Not for Sale” sign finally came off the car, and Bevins asked Gene, “Do you want it?”

Gene was barely able to hold back the tears. “I’d love it!” he told Bevins. “You know, if I was getting delivery of a brand-new Lincoln, I wouldn’t be a bit happier than I am with this car.” The Mustang barely had 500 additional miles on it since he had traded it in 25 years prior.

After that, whenever my wife and I headed out to Iowa, I’d find any excuse to go out to the garage, because all I wanted to do was go through the car. How are the fluids? Are the brakes pulling? What needs attention?

Then, one day in September 2012, Gene and his wife Joan were out visiting us in Colorado. “When is the last time you drove it?” I asked him. “You have to drive it or things will dry out.”

“Oh, whenever the last time you were out. I suppose” Gene said. Which meant it had been more than a year. After giving him an earful, he said, “Why don’t you just take it?”

I am no fool, so of course I took him up on the offer. Two months later I towed it back from Iowa, and over time I paid him what I could, when I could, until finally he said “Stop paying me for that car. I’m sure you’ve paid enough.”

For the last 12 years I have taken care of this original early Mustang. It lives at 8000 feet in the north central Colorado Rockies and runs great. To my knowledge, it is completely original, barring a dual-reservoir brake cylinder (though the original one still works great!) and typical things like tires, belts, and such. The odometer reads 65,543 miles.

Sadly, Gene passed away this past December at 90 years old. I will always be grateful for the time he let me drive his Prairie Bronze Mustang in the 4th of July parade in Belle Plaine while he sat in the passenger seat and waved. And I will never forget when we placed third overall at the esteemed Sauerkraut Days Car Show in Blairstown, Iowa. That’s right. If you’ve never had classic cars with your sauerkraut, you’re missing out, my friend.

***

Check out the Hagerty Media homepage so you don’t miss a single story, or better yet, bookmark it. To get our best stories delivered right to your inbox, subscribe to our newsletters.

The post Mustang Member Story: Gene’s Prairie Bronze Survivor appeared first on Hagerty Media.

Lamborghini has a history of building some unforgettable models. Most of us remember the Urraco, and the Jalpa that came after rings a bell, too. But what many people forget is the car that linked those two—the Silhouette. The Silhouette was the work of the late Marcello Gandini, who died in March, and it deserves a wider audience.

Conceived when Lamborghini was at its lowest, in some ways it’s a miracle that any Silhouettes were made at all. The Italian firm went bust after the car had been introduced, and during its evolution Lamborghini teetered on the precipice. The only reason the Silhouette saw the light of day was that it was an evolution of an existing product, rather than a clean-sheet design.

The car that sired the Silhouette was the Urraco, which Lamborghini had introduced in 1970 as the P250, with a 220-hp, transverse-mounted 2.5-liter V-8. By 1974, there was a Europe-only P200, powered by a 182-hp, 2.0-liter V-8, as well the P300 with its 3.0-liter V-8 making 265 hp. As the first V-8–engined car from Sant’Agata, the Urraco was created to increase production volumes at Lamborghini; as a direct rival to the small cars of Maserati and Ferrari, it was consequently more affordable, if not exactly cheap. Pitched squarely against the Ferrari 308 GT4, the Urraco used the same template, with its Bertone design, mid-mounted V-8, and 2+2 seating configuration.

The problem with the Urraco was that its 2+2 seating layout made it rather less glamorous than a strict two-seater, and with Ferrari having launched the 308 GTB (and then the targa-topped 308 GTS), Lamborghini really needed something to compete. The solution lay in commissioning Bertone to get out the tin snips and turn the Urraco into a targa-topped two-seater. The Silhouette was the result, and it was revealed to the world at the Geneva Salon in spring 1976, to sell alongside the Urraco.

Essentially an updated 3.0-liter Urraco, the Silhouette was Lamborghini’s first production open car. Although it carried over the Urraco’s engine and bodyshell, this wasn’t immediately apparent, because the back end was redesigned with flying buttresses and an upright rear window (as featured on the 308 GTB/GTS). The detachable fiberglass roof panel could be stowed where the back seats had been. To distance the Silhouette from the Urraco, the wheel arches were squared off for a much more aggressive appearance. Beneath those moldings were bigger and wider Campagnolo wheels shod with the latest Pirelli P7 tires (195/50 up front and 285/40 at the back), and to top it all off there was a deeper front air dam that provided greater stability at high speeds.

Most of the mainstream car magazines of the time gave the Silhouette no coverage. However, England’s CAR had been a fan of Lamborghini since its earliest days, and on no fewer than four occasions the mag published drive stories on this transitional model. First up was Ron Wakefield in summer 1976. He wrote: “This is the sort of car whose limits are so high you can’t get near them on a public road with the margin of safety I like to have, and to be thoroughly familiar with the Silhouette’s behavior I’d like to have an hour on a race track somewhere. I was told that the car had matched a Group 4 Pantera’s lap times in testing at Varano.”

The prototype that Wakefield drove was poorly made so he reserved judgment on the build quality; just a few months later, CAR’s Mel Nichols drove the first Silhouette to land in the UK. His more extensive review didn’t mention how well screwed together the Silhouette was, so presumably this early production car was finished to a rather higher standard than the prototype. But he ruminated plenty on the driving experience, which he thought was something special:

“The Silhouette feels very different compared with the Urraco. Not harder and sharper as you might expect, but softer and even more supple; tamer… I travelled fast in the Silhouette, and I travelled fast so very easily. The wheel is turned and the car answers. Impeccably, precisely, unquestionably. The responses do not seem significantly better than those of the already superb Urraco, but the grip of the Silhouette once the manoeuvre has been undertaken is unmistakably stronger. You are endowed with even greater facilities for cornering, with reserves so huge that I sit here now after thundering along motorways at upwards of 160 mph, after whipping up mountains and charging down them, with no idea of where the limits of the Silhouette really lie… The Urraco hasn’t been overshadowed; it has been complemented. Magnificently so.”

Less than a year later, Nichols was back at Sant’Agata, bringing the final Silhouette back to the UK, with Lamborghini teetering on the brink of bankruptcy. Production was running at little more than one car per week, and it didn’t help that North America, the world’s biggest car market, was out of bounds, because Lamborghini couldn’t supply enough cars to make the effort worthwhile for its importer, so it provided none at all. By June 1978, Lamborghini’s Type Approval paperwork for the UK had expired, which meant that its importer could no longer sell any cars there, either, even though there was demand for about 60 each year.

Thankfully, the company was saved in the early 1980s by brothers Jean-Claude and Patrick Mimran, but the rescue was a long, drawn-out process that took several years, and by that point the Silhouette’s time had been and gone. The final Silhouette was built in 1979 (the same year that the last Urraco was built), its production tally just 55 examples, the last one of which would become the Jalpa prototype. That car was launched in 1982, with a 3485-cc version of the V-8 engine first seen in the Urraco and carried over to the Silhouette. More than 400 would be made, in a run that lasted from 1982 until 1988, by which time the Silhouette had all but faded from collective memory.

The post The Lamborghini Silhouette Was Always More of a Shadow appeared first on Hagerty Media.

April 17 marks sixty years since the Ford Mustang’s public debut at the 1964 New York World’s Fair. The original pony car immediately became a pop-culture and automotive phenom, and it remains one of the most impactful cars in history. We’re celebrating with stories of the events surrounding the Mustang’s launch, the history of the early cars, and tales from owners. Click here to follow along with our multi-week 60 Years of Mustang coverage. -Ed.

As a car-crazy fifth-grade kid, I drew pictures of hot rods in my notebook. I could identify the year, make, and model of every car on the road, and I spent more time looking into the parking lot from my classroom than at the blackboard. So, when Ford introduced the Mustang to the public on April 17, 1964, I was easily swept up in the new car’s hype.

I wasn’t alone, of course. It was easily the greatest new-car launch in the history of the auto industry. People flocked to showrooms during the days leading up to the car’s official launch, only to be turned away at dealership doors. Paper covered showroom windows, preventing prying eyes from seeing the automotive delights inside. Months of PR hype had men, women, and 10-year-old boys salivating like so many of Pavlov’s dogs. Telling potential customers to go away only made them more anxious to see Ford’s new product.

A few days before the launch, my friend Walt Pierce, now 73 and a former Mustang restorer, and his friend, Paul Neggia, skipped their last three ninth-grade classes at Manchester Regional High School in Haledon, New Jersey, in the hope of catching a glimpse of the new Mustang. And because they were not yet old enough to drive, they paid an upper-classman to drive them to Berry Ford in Paramus.

“The transporters showed up, but all the Mustangs had covers on them,” Walt says. “There were no convertibles or fastbacks, just white coupes. I later heard that they were all sold on the first day.”

A couple of days after April 17, I had my first Mustang sighting: A pair of new Mustangs showed up in the parking lot of Nokomis Elementary School in Holbrook on Long Island, where I was a student.

A sixth-grade teacher took delivery of her black convertible on the same day that our school’s custodian received his Vineyard Green coupe, complete with a 289 V-8, dual exhaust, and four-speed transmission.

The arrival of those two cars caused such excitement that Nokomis principal Mr. Fenner authorized a “private launch” for students. Teachers were allowed to escort their classes into the parking lot to see the new Mustangs up close.

I still remember peering into the cars’ windows and seeing the bucket seats divided by a stylish console—the first I had ever seen. The green coupe had a manual shifter similar to the one in my family’s Volkswagen Beetle, but the convertible had a chrome T-handle shifter. We had never owned an automatic transmission in our family, so I wasn’t quite sure how that device operated. When I saw the long horizontal brake pedal, I surmised that pushing the left side of the pedal must engage the clutch, and pushing the right side must engage the brake….

There was something magical about the car’s grille—that chrome horse!—that made the Mustang unique. And the simple three-bar taillight was a huge and welcomed departure from Ford’s standard round taillight, which, except for 1958 and 1960, had been in use since 1952.

The Mustang was so different from my parents’ Beetle. It was low and sporty, but in a different way than my neighbor’s MGTD. As a kid, I was at a loss for words to describe my passion for the Mustang. As it turns out, folks many years older than I had the same difficulty.

With wind in its sails, Ford thought big prior to the launch and decided to introduce the Mustang at the New York World’s Fair. Division president Lee Iacocca, considered the father of the Mustang, had begun planning for it as early as 1961, when the car’s concept was first conceived.

On April 13, four days prior to the Mustang’s public unveiling, Iacocca addressed 124 invited media, then invited them to drive new Mustangs from New York to Detroit, a 750-mile trip.

Sometime after the launch, probably during our summer vacation, my father loaded my 8-year-old brother, Rob, and I into the VW and drove us about 50 miles to the World’s Fair. Though we enjoyed seeing the Hell Drivers Thrill Show—“risking life and limb”—as they jumped their 1964 Dodges over ramps and drove on two wheels, the real thrill was visiting the Ford Pavilion.

There, we could choose any Ford convertible to “drive” through the pavilion—Galaxies, Falcons, Montereys, and Comets—but of course we climbed into a Mustang convertible. The car was mounted on a rail system called the Magic Skyway, which had been designed by Walt Disney, and took us on a virtual tour of world history. I wasn’t too interested in the history and instead pretended I was old enough to drive as I “steered” the Mustang through the turns.

As with the VW Beetle, it seems almost everyone has a Mustang story. “I had one in high school,” “I never should have sold mine,” or “My uncle had one,” are regularly heard even today, especially among baby boomers.

Soon after introduction, my Uncle Bob actually did purchase one, a red 1965 coupe. Every time he and my Aunt Beth drove it from Boston to visit my family on Long Island, I couldn’t wait to wax it! I remember one Sunday during a visit, my uncle and aunt borrowed my parents’ VW to go to church so that I could wash, compound, and wax the dulling Mustang. I got that car so clean that when he returned from church, Uncle Bob said, “Tommy, it shines like a million bucks!” He didn’t give me a million bucks, but I seem to remember three dollars coming my way.

These were heady times at Ford Motor Company. The saying “A rising tide lifts all boats” applied to the Mustang as well. Folks visiting Ford dealerships to see the Mustang often bought the Galaxies, Falcons, or pickup trucks sharing the showroom; sales of all Ford products were boosted with the increased traffic.

With memories of the ill-conceived Edsel launch a half-dozen years before fading into history, Ford chairman Henry Ford II had his foot firmly on the company’s throttle. Ford had recently engaged Carroll Shelby to build the mighty Cobra to compete with and beat Chevy’s Corvette on race tracks across the country and around the world. By 1965, Shelby had his hands on the Mustang, too, with GT350 fastbacks swiftly dominating their own race classes. And Ford’s Charlotte-based racing operation—Holman-Moody—was winning on the NASCAR circuit and grabbing headlines with legendary drivers like Fred Lorenzen and Fireball Roberts.

Wasting no time after the Mustang launch, Holman-Moody built the world’s first Mustang funny car, which quickly became a hit at drag strips across the country in the hands of drivers like Gaspar “Gas” Rhonda.

On the local front, one of my boyhood heroes was a Suffolk County police officer and ex-Marine named Mike Mooney. Mooney both drag raced and road raced his souped-up Mustang notchback, and with its 271-horsepower High-Performance 289 engine, it was tough to beat. Once in a while, he would invite me to accompany him to either New York National Speedway or Bridgehampton Race Circuit to help him crew. It was Mooney’s early influence that briefly had me consider law enforcement as a career choice, although it was more for being able to speed legally than to fight crime.

As I sit here considering the Mustang’s 60th anniversary, it occurs to me that the car has been part of my life those full 60 years. But as much as I loved the Mustang, for too long I had never owned one. I resolved that issue in 2008, when I purchased a Hertz Edition 1966 Shelby GT350. Most Hertz cars were black with gold stripes, but this Mustang was one of the few painted white with gold stripes.

I love it. Just had the engine rebuilt and of all my cars, the Hertz is the one I enjoy driving most. That fastback design still increases my heart rate. And I get so stoked when the automatic transmission shifts from low to second gear and the rear tires give a little chirp. In the years since I saw that first automatic Mustang at Nokomis Elementary School, I’ve learned a lot about cars in general and Mustangs specifically. Most importantly, I now know that the long horizontal brake pedal serves only one purpose.

***

Check out the Hagerty Media homepage so you don’t miss a single story, or better yet, bookmark it. To get our best stories delivered right to your inbox, subscribe to our newsletters.

The post Mustang Memories: Tom Cotter Recalls April 17, 1964—and What Came Next appeared first on Hagerty Media.

The TVR Tuscan Speed Six is 25 years old, so early cars are now eligible for import to the U.S. That alone seemed like a very good excuse to take one on a trip around some roads that should feel very familiar to it.

Now, TVR didn’t have a test track on its doorstep like, say, Weissach, Nardò, or the Nürburgring Nordschleife, so it used the roads around the factory in Blackpool (the UK’s answer to Las Vegas). Luckily, there are some great stretches of tarmac in Lancashire.

To really celebrate the full scope of the Tuscan, we also brought together the bookends of the Speed Six story at the very impressive Hilton & Moss dealership and restoration facility near London. At one end of the scale is an early, red, 2000 Tuscan with its distinctive pierced grille and steampunk, bimetallic interior. At the other chronological end is a 2005 Tuscan 2 convertible with a wavy dash and slightly more aero exterior. The latter also has some of TVR’s distinctive and expensive Reflex flip paint.

As the Tuscan Speed Six generally got better to drive throughout its life, we picked the later convertible to take on the journey. It has a 3.6-liter version of the Speed Six engine, with 360 hp and 318 lb-ft of torque. The straight-six is not known as the most reliable engine, but Hilton & Moss’s engineers had an interesting perspective on how it should be approached.

Nobody is quite sure what the future holds for the TVR badge in 2024 and beyond. There has been the promise of a Cosworth-powered car with a Gordon Murray chassis; equally, there has been talk of an EV. The new factory in Wales doesn’t seem to be an option anymore, and TVR are reportedly now headquartered at Donington, but ways of contacting the firm are thin on the ground.

Regardless of whether there is a new TVR or not, cars from the company’s past, like the Tuscan Speed Six, seem somehow more relevant than ever. The very analog nature of the cars, combined with interiors that seem even more impressive in the current restomod era, means that they have a surprisingly timeless quality to them.

***

Check out the Hagerty Media homepage so you don’t miss a single story, or better yet, bookmark it. To get our best stories delivered right to your inbox, subscribe to our newsletters.

The post The Driver’s Seat: Henry Catchpole on the TVR Tuscan Speed Six appeared first on Hagerty Media.

Muscle car values went through the roof in the early 2000s, riding high on the hog of a U.S. housing bubble that saw non-stop construction put a lot of money in the pockets of ordinary Joes who happened to be successful in their trade. A lot of those folks bought dream cars. A lot of those dream cars had stonking Detroit V-8s underhood. And a lot of those V-8 dream cars changed hands at Barrett-Jackson auctions. Suddenly, people were paying six figures for Chevelles and GTOs. The bottom fell out from 2007 to ’09, and some sanity returned to the market, but not before the absolute darlings of the day, 1970–71 Hemi Cuda convertibles (just 21 were built over the two years), had cruised past $2 million for the very best. Today, they still occupy rarefied air in the muscle market.

This week, one such rare Cuda falls into the capable hands of Jay Leno, when he is joined by a 1970 in Plum Crazy and its owner, Craig Jackson, who is the chairman and CEO of Barrett-Jackson Auction Company.

The two discuss Barrett-Jackson’s premier auction each January in Arizona, which Leno calls the “Super Bowl of car events,” before getting into the specifics of Jackson’s Cuda, which he has owned since 1999. Jackson says he hunted for the right one for a long time. “When I saw this one, it checked every box,” he says. He reckons he paid “a little over a hundred grand” for it, which was not cheap in 1999, but far from where these cars were headed.

The car has a unique history as the only 1970 Hemi Cuda convertible export. After a period spent in England, the original 426 V-8 was replaced with a 318 as a way to make it more of a fuel-sipper during the dark days of the mid-’70s fuel crisis. Go figure.

After some back and forth about the way the Cuda stacks up to modern Mopar muscle, Leno and Jackson hit the road to let that Hemi breathe and continue a great conversation about a variety of cars that keep this hobby humming.

The post Jay Leno Goes Plum Crazy for Craig Jackson’s Hemi Cuda Convertible appeared first on Hagerty Media.

“The Bugatti EB110 is 100 percent, unadulterated, Tony-award–winning theater.” So begins Jason Cammisa’s lastest Revelations video on the 1990s tech-laden Italo-French supercar that seemed to come and go before most of us even realized it had been here.

Company founder Ettore Bugatti was a nit-picky perfectionist whose singular drive was reflected in the craftsmanship of the prewar machinery that bore his name. And though the EB110 also bore his name, and although it, too, was an exceptional piece of machinery—“a dynamic masterpiece, even”—it was far from perfect. Its gestation and birth, however, were, uh, magnificent.

Cammisa walks viewers through Bugatti’s convoluted resurgence as a manufacturer (well, it’s first resurgence, anyway) and highlights the melodrama and ridiculous details that went into that revival. Then there’s the car itself.

To be sure, despite its near-4000-pound curb weight, the EB110 was a technological tour de force, with its bleeding-edge carbon-fiber tub, its all-wheel-drive, and its quad-turbocharged, 60-valve 3.5-liter V-12 built entirely in-house. In its day, the 603-hp EB110 Supersport was the quickest and fastest car in the world, although that “day” only lasted a few months before a certain McLaren entered the supercar fray.

Stupidly exuberant? Absolutely. Overlooked in the context of its peers? Probably. You can judge for yourself, and get some good chuckles in the process, with Cammisa as your guide.

The post The Bugatti EB110 Was a Quad-Turbo, V-12 Greek Tragedy | <em>Revelations</em> with Jason Cammisa appeared first on Hagerty Media.

If Kevin Marti were to run a Marti Report on the VIN for his Dark Brown Metallic 1967 Mercury Cougar four-speed convertible, it would come back as a Lime Frost 1967 Mercury Cougar three-speed coupe. For a lot of people, those might be “walk away” red flags. But Kevin Marti’s okay with them.

“When I was a boy,” he says, “I had an uncle who had a convertible. He drove it to our house one day, and I’d never seen a car that didn’t have a top on it. He took us kids—my brother, my sister, and I—for a ride around the block.” Marti has been hooked on manual-transmission convertibles ever since. “It’s just kind of my thing.”

He bought that ’67 Cougar when he was 16, his first car. “Because it had a roof on it, and because they didn’t make convertibles that year, I cut the roof off.” The day after Marti graduated high school he went over to his girlfriend’s house, borrowed her dad’s circular saw, and that was that. He never stopped to consider a thing like provenance. Or structure, it turns out—without the roof in place, he couldn’t open the doors. “Had to do the Dukes of Hazzard thing to get into the car.” His local Ford parts guy finally convinced him to go buy a junkyard Mustang convertible and strip the essential bits, then the two men put things right. “The doors opened, after that,” he says. “And it even has a power top.”

In this hobby, you cannot account for that kind of history. No chassis tag or fender stamping or VIN plate will have it. What our cars’ various tags and stamps and plates do have, of course, are the facts, a sort of industrial DNA. Nobody understands the intersection of these two vastly different stories better than Kevin Marti, who for the last four decades has made a name for himself in the Ford-shaped corner of our world, first with a thriving parts business and then with his eponymous Report.

“We don’t play with the data,” he says. “The data is as the car got built, not as the car is.”

That, in short, is the elevator pitch for a Marti Report, which itself is the production story of a given Ford, Mercury, or Lincoln built since 1967—all the components, both standard and optional, that went into and onto a car, and when and where that all took place.

Obtaining your own report is a simple online affair, with results available in three to 14 days, depending on the vehicle year and a few other factors, although same-day rush service is available. Marti designed the process for people who aren’t computer savvy, and all you need to get started is a VIN. From there, you can choose from one of three different reports—Standard, Deluxe, or Elite. The $20 Standard Report is the perfect pre-purchase documentation and provides you with all the basic information about production, like the car’s original color, interior, powertrain, and options, along with decoded information from the door tag, so you know that the car you’re looking at is—or is not—as it left the factory. The $55 Deluxe Report equips you with all the above information, plus a depiction of the door tag, details about the dealership that sold the car new, and several significant dates associated with the car, like the order date, the date(s) of assembly, and the date it sold. It also features statistics about the car to put it into context against others that were similarly equipped. Finally, the $300 Elite Report arrives on blue matte board in a 16×20 frame, which displays everything from the other two reports, along with a reproduction window sticker and personalized production statistics. They are often the documentation you see on easels at car shows, and it’s not uncommon to see the facts and figures culminate with “one of one.” We’ll come back to that.

The 67-year-old Phoenician is a mechanical engineer by trade, and he grew up around cars, learning to work on them from his dad, a mechanic. “I guess somewhere around age six or so I started handing him screwdrivers,” he says. Marti spent the first part of his career in R&D for Sperry Flight Systems. In his off time, he says, “I just kept playing with cars and working on them.” In the late 1970s, he bought a second car and then a third, both of which he still owns. (Marti is not one to get rid of cars.) He also started raiding local wrecking yards for original soft bits—battery cables, radiator hoses, and the like—to put on his cars to make them look factory original. “Nobody was doing that kind of stuff back then.”

At shows, other car owners took notice and asked how they could get their hands on similar items. Original parts in yards weren’t infinite, of course, so Marti figured out how to reverse engineer and manufacture them. This was the genesis of a small side business making reproduction fan belts, radiator and heater hoses, and battery cables, and he and the family sold them at car shows. The big change, however, came in 1982.

He’d just finished restoring a Cougar Eliminator, only to learn the stripe kit wasn’t available anymore. “I was distraught, because that’s what helps make that car.” Sperry was a large company that never threw anything away, which made Marti wonder if Ford was the same way. Maybe it had kept the tooling? What ensued was a long series of phone calls, to various departments, to several different people, trying to get some answers. Finally, he learned that the stripe kits had been farmed out to 3M, so he turned his attention there. “This was back in the days when you had to pay for long distance, and I ended up with $150 monthly phone bills.”

After six months of sleuthing, he reached a guy in 3M’s decorative products division. “He says, ‘Oh yeah, we’ve got that tooling. I can see it from my desk. But that’s not our property. That’s Ford’s property.’ But he had no idea who I needed to talk to.” Back to Ford he went, until eventually Marti got hold of an MG enthusiast there who understood the pain of trying to track down crucial parts. “He went to bat for me internally and really helped put the deal together,” he says. Marti wrote a check to Ford, Ford issued a purchase order to 3M, 3M manufactured a batch of 50 stripe kits, and shipped them off to Marti.

People who had seen Marti’s pleading ads in issues of Hemmings and elsewhere looking for a stripe kit occasionally reached out to see if he’d ever tracked one down. “As a matter of fact…” came his reply. “That’s really what started the business,” he says. Soon after, he took a call from Shelby parts supplier Tony Branda Performance, in need of ’69 Boss 302 stripe kits. “A little while later, Ford discontinued kits for the 1970 Boss 302s, and so over the course of the next couple of years, I found myself with this reasonably sized side business of selling stripe kits made by 3M off of Ford’s original tooling.”

The entire time, he never stopped restoring cars, for himself and for others, and in amongst it all he got his hands on an original stamping machine for door data plates, fell down a data rabbit hole, and began selling repop plates as well. All from the cramped confines of the Marti family home, with wife Shelli as invested as he was. Often she was stamping radiator hoses at the dinner table, then feeding the family on that same table an hour later.

Disenchanted with corporate bureaucracy at Sperry, Marti left the company around 1985 to focus on Ford parts supply full-time. In the early ’90s, he learned the company still had all of its data, and instantly he saw the benefit for car owners. Marti the engineer had the software experience to decode it. He just needed access. But proprietary information was not the same as rubber hoses and vinyl stripe kits.

“Various departments had to sign off allowing all this to happen, including the office of legal counsel.” Marti knew the lawyers had the potential to be the “is this really going to help Ford?” stumbling blocks. “But there was one lawyer who liked the way we did our business, and he kind of stepped up and said, ‘I can vouch for this guy. He won’t misuse our data.’ He really made it happen.”

As a result of his unique access to Ford’s industrial DNA, Marti developed relationships, then friendships, with many of the people running the company. Edsel is a friend. Bill is a friend. It’s a situation not lost on him. “There’s an interesting dynamic at Ford that doesn’t really exist at many of the other car companies. There’s so much family involvement and pride in the name, and there’s a deep sense of nostalgia because of that. Their name is on the cars and it doesn’t matter if those vehicles are 50 years old. You don’t have that with Chevrolet. And the Dodge brothers aren’t exactly involved with Stellantis.”

Marti acknowledges Ralph Nader’s indirect role in all of this, too. It was Nader’s revealing investigation into the auto industry, and his book, Unsafe at Any Speed, which led to the 1966 passage of the National Traffic and Motor Vehicle Safety Act. Among other things, it required carmakers to start keeping records of their vehicles and who owned them, for recall purposes. The 1967 model year was the first to benefit from the greater transparency. “Now, it wasn’t indefinite,” says Marti. “Kind of like with IRS tax records, they only had to keep them for a given time, something like 10 years. It just so happened that Ford never got around to throwing them out.”

There was a period early on, Marti argues, that someone might have talked to the powers that be at General Motors or Chrysler, and they could have been issuing the same kind of reports for Corvettes and Camaros, Challengers and ’Cudas. “But life just didn’t go that way.”

As a result, those verifying the authenticity of Chevys and Mopars must do so without the backing of period microfilm or original paperwork. Their certification rests on the physical examination of the car and its telltale signs.

But people manipulate things. People fake numbers all the time. “It’s just that in the Ford world, you really can’t,” Marti says. “You can attempt to. Plenty of people have tried. You can alter the VIN on a Ford, but as soon as someone orders a report on that car, there’s no hiding it.”

Which helps explain why so many Ford owners are proud to display their Marti Reports. Beyond automotive pride, however, there’s a real-world value component. Marti himself has little regard for prices—he’s in it for personal history, remember—but based on discussions he’s had over the years with people who monitor classic car sales, he argues a report “typically adds 10 percent to the value of a car simply because you can’t fake it.” Hagerty valuation data, based upon thousands of monitored sales, largely agrees, especially for first-generation (1965–73) Mustangs. For vintage F-series pickups, the bump is around six to eight percent, while Broncos of any year tend to see a 12 percent increase in value.

Not all Fords are created equal, of course, and Marti has been involved in verifying some serious machinery, including both original Bullitt Mustangs. Hagerty covered one of them, the movie’s “hero car,” extensively in 2018. That car’s owner, Sean Kiernan, originally went to Ford to help with authenticating the car. In turn, Ford sent him to Marti, who was able to go see the car, work with Kiernan, and fully document its history. Kiernan eventually sold the car, and its $3.74M price tag in 2020 made it the most expensive Mustang of all time.

Another search on a rare Ford came from Colin Comer, a classic car restorer, dealer, historian, and former Hagerty contributor, who has ordered hundreds of Marti Reports over the years. In 2016, Comer encountered a 1969 Ford Bronco in a Phoenix wrecking yard that didn’t quite add up. “When I found the Holman-Moody Bronco Hunter, the only thing that proved it was that truck was getting the hidden VIN off the frame and sending it to Marti,” says Comer. “And it came back as a special-build promotional vehicle. That allowed me to connect the dots, and I bought it on the spot. A same-day report that confirms something like that is a crazy value.” Comer spent 2400 hours restoring the Bronco and sold it privately in 2020 for well into six figures.

Now, a truck like the Bronco Hunter is the rolling definition of one-of-one. There really isn’t anything else like it. All too often, however, we see that label applied far and wide to auction listings. So what does it mean? Not as much as you might think, Marti argues. “Okay, so say you’ve got total 1967 production of 497,303 cars, and this many were hard tops. Of those, this many came with this engine. Of those, this many came with that engine-transmission combination. Of those, this many were painted this color… Back then, the way cars were built, there were so many color choices, so many interior choices, so many options available. There were literally millions of combinations, which meant almost every car built was unique in some way.” If you keep drilling down, in other words, you’ll arrive at one-of-one.

Kevin Marti, you might argue, is one of one. He loves what he does, and he loves being able to provide this service to enthusiasts, but he recognizes he can’t do it forever. He and Shelli have four kids, but only one of them is involved in the business, along with a grandchild. The others have their own careers, their own lives, and he’s proud of each of them. “I mean, we forced them all to work here in the summers when they were teenagers,” he says, “but that was just to instill a work ethic in them.” The future of Marti Auto Works doesn’t rest on family legacy—Marti has been working behind the scenes for some time to put a plan in place for both the parts manufacturing and the data business.

“I’ve spent the last 20-some years working alongside an excellent programmer, and we’ve been building this operation to be 100 percent automated, with the goal to make it something that survives my death.” Profits, he says, will be dispersed to worthwhile organizations trying to make the world a better place. Order a report, do some good for people who need it most.

Before all that, however, Kevin Marti has no intention to step away. “I’d like to put in fewer hours so my wife and I can spend more time going on trips,” he says. “But I can’t sit around and play golf every day. I don’t see retirement coming until my brain just doesn’t function properly.”

***

Check out the Hagerty Media homepage so you don’t miss a single story, or better yet, bookmark it. To get our best stories delivered right to your inbox, subscribe to our newsletters.

The post Kevin Marti Has Been Driving FoMoCo History for 50 Years appeared first on Hagerty Media.

For those among you who hate the idea of perfectly good cars being left to sit and rot, this episode of Barn Find Hunter may be a tough watch.

Tom Cotter travels to Pikeville, North Carolina, to visit the remains of Collier AMC, a dealership that opened in 1955 selling Nashes, then closed up shop in the early 1980s, with much of its inventory still in place. Tom is joined on the lot by its current owners, brothers Rob and Doug Collier. “Everything we see today is for sale,” Tom says.

About 200 cars sit in disrepair on the property, including a 1974 Javelin with a 360 V-8 and about 63,000 miles, which was gifted to Rob when he was 13. There’s a ’68 Ambassador V-8 that the service department converted to run on four cylinders; now it sits camouflaged in vegetation. There’s an Eagle SX4 with an Iron Duke 4-cylinder, dead paint, and a bush growing between the front seats—yours for under $1500. There’s a Chevy S-10, a Volvo 544, and a 1950 Nash, which you can identify by its covered fuel cap, different from the ’49, Rob explains.

Every car shown is covered in some combination of flaking paint, mildew, and pine needles. On one car, Rob shows off the inner rocker, which he explains was perforated at the factory to increase strength; the irony, however, is that the entire piece is now rusted away.

The men soon arrive at a 1976 Pacer wearing fiberglass fender flares and Team Highball livery, as raced in IMSA RS by Amos Johnson. It won’t see a track again. Perhaps rarest of all is a prototype Vignale AMX. “They sent two Rambler Americans to Vignale Coachworks in Italy,” Rob says, and they came back with an unusual rear-end treatment. Tom asks if a car like that will be restored, but Rob suspects it will instead be used as yard art.

Soon Tom and the brothers leave the lot to see a one-owner Ambassador tucked away in a barn for decades. Despite the dust and decay, the precision of the car’s opening/shutting passenger door is impressive. “Here’s a car that has been here for 61 years,” Tom says, “and it opens and slams like a fresh car.” Rob hints that the local mayor might include the car in the town museum.

“A collection of this many cars that are complete and haven’t been picked over, I think it’s really special,” says Rob Collier. “My daddy was soft-hearted toward cars. He didn’t like to see them torn up.” There is real honesty in the statement, but it’s also hard to imagine how he might have felt about seeing them this way.

The post The <em>Barn Find Hunter</em> Visits the AMC Dealership That Time Forgot appeared first on Hagerty Media.

Lamborghini celebrated the 350 GT’s 60th birthday this week with some glamour shots on the roads of Geneva.

Automobili Lamborghini first entered the public consciousness at the 1963 Turin auto show with a sleek two-seater prototype, the 350 GTV, styled by Franco Scaglione and constructed by Carrozzeria Sargiotto. After much development and tweaking to chassis and body alike (while pretty, the GTV didn’t translate to a viable car), the production-ready 350 GT was finally unveiled five months later at the 1964 Geneva motor show.

The newest entry on the Italian exotic scene wore a lovely aluminum body, redesigned by Bianchi Anderloni and constructed by Carrozzeria Touring, with a chassis engineered by a young Giampaolo Dallara. It was powered by a front-mounted quad-cam 270-hp 3.5-liter V-12. It all added up to a stunner, too.

A beaming Ferruccio Lamborghini was on hand to show off his new car to onlookers, journalists, and prospective buyers alike. Before long, the V-12 underhood would grow to four liters and give rise to the 1966 400 GT. Crucially, the mill’s underlying architecture would serve as the basis for the V-12s that powered several subsequent Lamborghinis over the next 40 years, including the front-engine Islero, Jarama, Espada, and LM002, and, mounted amidships, the Miura, Countach, and Diablo.

Lamborghini would go on to produce 135 350 GTs before 1966, when 400 GT production began. Unfortunately, the Geneva show car, chassis number 101, was destroyed during testing. But the oldest remaining example, #102, in metallic gray over red leather, is fitter than ever, and it looked stunning for its 60th anniversary Swiss photoshoot.

The post 60 Years on, the Lamborghini 350 GT Is Ready for Another Close-Up appeared first on Hagerty Media.

Williams Racing is returning to the Goodwood Festival of Speed, and inside the team transporter will be an FW08, one of the Grand Prix machines that Keke Rosberg piloted to the 1982 Drivers’ Championship, edging out Ferrari’s Didier Pironi and McLaren’s John Watson. Rosberg’s sole victory, in the Swiss GP at Dijon, made him one of 11 different drivers to stand atop the podium in that 16-race season.

Accompanying the car to Goodwood will be Williams drivers Alex Albon and Logan Sargeant, team principal James Vowles, and F1 Academy prospect Lia Block. All four will share seat time driving the FW08 up the famous hill; Albon and Sargeant on the Thursday and Friday, Block on Saturday, and Vowles on Sunday. This will be first time behind the wheel of a Williams F1 car for both Block and Vowles.

The FW08 arrived in Formula 1 in the midst of the turbo era, and though its normally aspirated 3.0-liter Cosworth DFV V-8 was underpowered by comparison—making just 515 hp against the 570 hp put out by its 1.5-liter turbocharged V-6 competitors from Ferrari and Renault—reliability, aerodynamic efficiency, and consistent points finishes were enough to propel Rosberg to the title. He and teammate Derek Daly helped earn Williams fourth in that year’s Constructors’ Championship.

This year’s theme at the Festival of Speed is “Horseless to Hybrid: Revolutions in Power,” which will celebrate more than 130 years of the automobile in all its many guises. The event marks Albon’s second Goodwood trip with Williams, while Sargeant will be making his Goodwood debut. Though never an F1 racer himself, Vowles is an experienced hotshoe, most recently in the 2022 Asian Le Mans series. And Block, daughter of the late rally driver and founder of DC Shoes, Ken Block, is in her first year with Williams in the all-female F1 Academy single-seater series.

“We are looking forward to being at this year’s Goodwood Festival of Speed and sharing our passion for motorsport with fans from around the world,” said Vowles in a press release. “The Festival of Speed is such a beloved and unique event and gives us the opportunity to celebrate the rich heritage of Williams Racing and motorsport as a whole. It will be a dream come true for me to drive a title-winning heritage Williams F1 car. We can’t wait to take on the hill climb and put on a show for the incredible crowds that gather at Goodwood each year.”

The Festival of Speed takes place Thursday 11–Sunday 14 July.

The post Williams Racing Is Bringing an FW08 to Goodwood appeared first on Hagerty Media.

Back in 1982, when we had a “gas shortage” and fuel prices went up substantially, many folks switched to diesel cars and trucks. I bought a new 1982 VW Rabbit diesel pickup truck. I kept it for about 20 years as I liked driving it so much, and it got 40 mpg, no matter how I drove it.

When the Dodge Rampage came out in 1982, I liked the looks of it much better than the VW. It also had more power and better carrying capacity than the VW did. And with its longer chassis, the Rampage offered more seat travel a slightly longer cargo box.

The half-ton Rampage was built in Belvidere, Illinois but only for three years, 1982–84, with total production of 37,401. My 1984 Rampage left the factory on September 22, 1984.

Rampages were made on the Dodge Charger chassis and are Charger from the front seats forward. The wheelbase was lengthened from 99 to 104 inches to allow for the pickup box, and the rear springs were heavy duty to accommodate cargo. The base price for 1984 was $6800, or $7300 if you opted for the 96-hp 2.2-liter 4-cylinder. It’s front-wheel-drive, and disc brakes and rack-and-pinion steering were standard, so this little truck really handles like a car. It also gets 30 mpg on the highway.

My Rampage has the 2.2 engine and a three-speed automatic transmission, along with a custom paint design, custom interior, and oversized 15-inch wheels. It’s a rust-free southern truck that was acquired new by NASA and used as a security patrol vehicle at one of its sites. There is still a NASA government sticker on the left door frame.

The agency had two Rampages at this location, both stripped-down models in white with brown interiors and bench seats, and when it was through with them, they were sold to a couple of auto auction companies and then on to a fellow in Nashville. He restored one of them for his wife and started on the other but had to quit working on it after an injury. I bought the unfinished one from him and have slowly restored it as time permitted.

I spent a few winters slowly restoring all the mechanical components as well as replacing the windshield and completely replacing the interior. I had to rebuild the headliner fiberboard with fiberglass and replace many of the electrical components behind the dash and in the engine compartment. I replaced all the brake system and had the rack-and-pinion assembly rebuilt. It has all new ignition system components and a new fuel system, including the tank. As is the case with most small Chrysler products from this era, I had quite a session getting the engine to idle correctly. I rebuilt the Holley carb, which didn’t help, and then sent it out to a Holley specialist to have them go through it. It still didn’t idle right.

After I found metal shavings in the oil pan, I overhauled the engine, and while it was apart I had the it balanced and bored .030 over, but it still didn’t run correctly.

I finally discovered someone that had previously replaced the carburetor with a carb body that had one too many vacuum lines running to it, according to the emissions system diagrams. Once I eliminated one of the vac lines and plugged that extra port, the engine ran just fine. I had spent more than a year and way too many dollars chasing this problem, so needless to say I was very excited when I got it sorted.

Today the Rampage drives really well and turns heads wherever it goes. In its day, the 2.2 engine was advertised as a mini torque monster. It won’t win any races (unless you’re up against a diesel Rabbit), but when you come to a hill it just powers its way up without losing much speed. As far as I’m concerned it doesn’t need any more horsepower to be fun to drive.

“I never knew Chrysler built such a truck,” is the most frequent comment I hear at car shows. Another is, “Why did you restore this thing?” That’s easy: I wanted something different, something you never see anymore. I also get asked if it’s for sale, but I really can’t think of anything I would replace it with.—Richard Pedersen, Tony, Wisconsin

***

Check out the Hagerty Media homepage so you don’t miss a single story, or better yet, bookmark it. To get our best stories delivered right to your inbox, subscribe to our newsletters.

The post Why an ’84 Dodge Rampage? Something Different. appeared first on Hagerty Media.

Upon its 1996 introduction, you would have been forgiven for confusing the Nissan Stagea with any other practical, marginally sporty midsize family wagon on Japanese roads. It did, however, benefit from a mash-up of parts borrowed from both the staid Laurel sedan and the decidedly more exciting Skyline. And, as a competitor to the Subaru Legacy and Toyota Caldina wagons, the Stagea came with a variety of silky-smooth straight-sixes that ranged from a normally aspirated 2.0 liter to a 2.5-liter turbo, with both rear- and all-wheel-drive available. With room for the kids and a week’s worth of groceries, there was little to complain about. There was also little to make the Stagea stand apart from its rivals.

Enter Autech, Nissan’s performance subsidiary. It wasn’t long before the firm began tuning the wagon to within an inch of its life, and the result was the fire-breathing Stagea 260RS. This limited-production beast lost nothing in practicality but gained everything in eye-popping performance. You could still haul the kids and the groceries, but by the end of any spirited ride, there’d probably be vomit all over the back seats and the cargo area would look like the aftermath of a food fight.

Autech engaged in some focused massage to turn the Stagea into the 260RS. Into the engine bay went a RB26DETT, the twin-turbocharged 2.6-liter six borrowed from the R33-generation Skyline GT-R. It made 276 hp (nearly 150 more than a base Stagea and 45 more than one equipped with the 2.5-liter turbo) and 271 lb-ft of torque, with power sent through a five-speed manual transmission to the permanent ATTESA E-TS all-wheel-drive setup, which included a rear limited-slip differential, also cribbed from the GT-R. The hits kept coming, though, as Autech also incorporated the GT-R’s nimble Super-HICAS four-wheel steering system, in addition to upgrading the suspension and adding a front strut brace and rear stabilizer bar. They also fit Brembo brakes and 17-inch BBS forged alloy wheels, plus a body kit with a deep front valance, side skirts, and a rear spoiler. The result is a car broadly considered to be a Nissan Skyline GT-R wagon, one capable of making the 0–60 sprint in 5.7 seconds.

Production was limited to just 1734 examples, all right-hand drive, and all built from late 1997 to early 2001 in two periods (Stage 1.5 and Stage 2), which differ largely in cosmetic “facelift” terms. The car’s combination of practicality, mind-blowing performance, and rarity made the Stagea 260RS something of a cult classic, which helps explain its inclusion in nearly every iteration of Gran Turismo since part 2.

America began welcoming them to our shores as each successive model year turned 25. Our Sale of the Week, this 1998 Nissan Stagea 260RS Autech, crossed the Pacific last year, and on March 12, it sold on Cars & Bids for $37,500.

According to the GT-R registry, this car was the 1051st model built, the 65th of 748 Stage 2 cars. Finished in Pearl White over a black and gray interior, its metric odometer reads 173,500 km (about 107,800 miles). The seller claims to have purchased the car in Japan in 2022, then waited a year to import it before titling it in Georgia. Aftermarket upgrades made by the seller include a Kakimoto racing exhaust, a NISMO strut brace, and 18-inch RAYS wheels, plus a bunch of minor exterior and interior bits. Recent work includes replacement of the valve cover gaskets as well as the timing belt and all accessory belts.

The seller made it clear that given the car’s import status, it may not fly in every state, so caveat emptor and all that. The seller also provided no fewer than 220 photos, so it’s not hard to gauge the car’s overall condition. It is far from pristine, and in most areas it’s not even clean, with dust, dirt, staining, and what looks to be pet hair throughout the interior, which itself is an interesting mix of suede up front and leather in the back. The exterior is straight, dent-free, and rust-free, though there are some minor paint scuffs throughout. This is all stuff you might expect from a family wagon driven in a manner that dumps the groceries, and we’d peg this one in #3 (Good) condition.

Now, we don’t feature the 1998 Nissan Stagea 260RS in the Hagerty Price Guide, but we do the 1998 R33 Skyline GT-R, and in similar condition we price them at about $54,000. Other recent 260RS sales (there aren’t many) seem to fall into the $30K–$50K range based on condition and mileage, so this result seems par for the course. And when compared to that GT-R valuation, it’s quite a bargain.

Fast wagons will never not be cool. When they happen to be far cheaper than the supercar on which they’re based, it’s hard to go wrong. Driving a RHD car on our roads might have its inconvenient moments, sure, and parts availability may present some challenges—particularly the body kit bits—but mechanically you can find much of what you need through Nissan Heritage. And the growing network of JDM specialists cropping up as more and more cars make their way over will only help matters.

So, congrats to the winning bidder. First order of business should be a thorough detail, but then go have fun with it. Just try not to spill stuff.

The post This Nissan Stagea 260RS Is a Fast, Cheap Hauler appeared first on Hagerty Media.

There are certain cars that stay with us. Cars from a special time in our lives that haunt us. They’re gone, but the memories live on. Now and then, there is a way to bring back those halcyon days—if you have the right connections. Fran has the right connections.

Back in the day, when Fran got his first real job out of graduate school, he went searching for a special car. Other young people he worked with were buying these boxy BMWs. Everyone was buying them. “It was monkey see, monkey do,” Fran says. “I didn’t want that.” Fran wanted something different.

There was a Pontiac dealership in East Windsor, Connecticut, that suddenly started selling Datsuns. One day Fran saw a Sight Orange 240Z on the lot, fell in love, and bought it. It definitely stood out in the parking lot at Aetna, where he worked. Soon, he began courting a girlfriend in his new Z. Down the road, they got married, and a two-seater just wasn’t practical. There was no place for a car seat, after all. The newlyweds had a small house with a small garage, and the Datsun had to go.

Decades passed, Fran found success in his work and owned fun classics, but eventually, he wanted to have a taste of those bygone days. He needed a 240Z in his life again. Leaning on his connections, Fran called up Dean Cusano, owner of Motorcars Incorporated.

Dean’s shop specializes in Jaguar in E-Types. The work environment is a cross between an operating room and a showroom, where each occupant has been given a name (Fran takes credit for starting that trend).

Fran had learned about Dean years before while on the hunt for a Jag. He was told that Dean Cusano knew every nut, bolt, and quirk of the E-Type. Fran bought a 1968 Series 1.5 coupe from him. After driving it for a while, Fran convinced him to make some modifications. It was a hard sell, but Dean finally relented, and the Jag soon became known as “Enzo,” with a high-performance 4.2-liter race motor and a vanity plate: ENZO SEZ. Then, Fran had him modify another E-Type—“Lenny”—a 1967 roadster in Le Mans spec, again with a high-performance 4.2 race motor. Finally, there was “Charmaine,” a stock ’62 Series 1 roadster. Jaguars are how they became friends. Then Fran came to him with a special request, a bit outside of Dean’s normal area of expertise.

With that inescapable hankering for another Datsun, Fran asked Dean to find him the best 240Z he could. Dean discovered such a car on Bring A Trailer, a 1973 Arizona survivor with 41,000 original miles and not a speck of rust anywhere. They won the auction, and the car was shipped to Connecticut to start its transformation.

Fran and Dean sat down and started talking about the look of the car. Fran wanted to add flares and a wing on the back. He showed Dean numerous images of Zs with crazy stances and flared fenders, but Dean would have nothing to do with it. “Every snot-nosed kid does that sort of thing,” he told Fran. “If you want me to customize your car, I have to do it my way and not with bolt-on imitation crap. I’m going to do something that hasn’t been done before, and I’ll build you a bespoke, custom Z.”

Fran handed him the keys. “Do what you think is right,” he said. “Do it as if it were your car, and call me when it’s done.”

Despite being steeped in Jaguars, Dean had the chops to build a custom ride. In his younger days, he’d built custom cars with his late brother Joe, who was a hot rodder from the ’50s, so the custom design ethos was definitely in Dean Cusano’s DNA. Nothing was going to be bolt-on, and nothing was going to be easy. Dean was going to create the ultimate 240Z GT.

Of course, dropping a Japanese car into the middle of a shop that works on English cars might seem counterintuitive, but Dean had direct knowledge of Datsuns from racing his own 240 back in the day. To him, this was simply a Japanese Jaguar.

He had an idea for it, too, but he never made a single drawing. So, with an open checkbook, a mandate to create a one-of-a-kind Datsun, and the help of Bob Matcheski, an old hot rodder who worked in the shop, they got down to business.

Once they had the Z on jack stands, they started cutting off the sides. After that, they reworked the suspension and set the ride height to where they wanted it. When you lower a car, you lose travel, so instead of shortening the struts, they raised the towers, which would allow the big back tires to have 5 inches of travel. In the front, the car was lowered by utilizing racing coilovers and adjustable lower A-arms.

Next, they started rearranging things and placing them where they wanted them to be. This is how they decided on the width, the stance, where the fenders were going to go, and how the wheel arches were going to be altered. They also used an old hot rod trick and frenched the bumpers to make the body look wider.

An original Z had 14 x 5.5-inch wheels, which would be too small for this build. But Dean also did not want this car to look like it had huge wheels stuffed beneath it, so they agreed on 17 x 11s and spent a lot of time making sure the arch of the tires fit into the arch of the wheel wells. The apertures of the wheel arches have been raised almost 2 inches in the front and 1.25 inches in the rear. Even though the Z is lowered 3.5 inches, with taller tires, it doesn’t look slammed. You don’t notice how radical it is until it’s sitting next to a stock 240Z. The idea was not to make it radical, however. The idea was “factory GT.”

Getting the Z to that idealized aesthetic was really a matter of Dean and Bob throwing ideas back and forth and then applying them to the car. In their skilled hands, it was a process requiring very few redos, and the whole project came together in a completely organic way.

One thing about the original Z that Dean always hated was the door sills. “I couldn’t deal with the bottom of the door breaking that clean line of the rocker panel,” he says. “I had to change that.” The only thing to do was to create a custom door whose sheet metal reached all the way to the bottom of the rocker. In the end, the only panel that remained stock on this Z build was the rear hatch. The roof was altered when it was removed to add the rear crossbar. The hood was extended ¾ of an inch in the front to make it work with the widened front fenders, which then required redoing the headlight buckets. While they were at it, they welded them back without seams for a cleaner line. A lot of modifications and metalwork went into that ¾-inch change, but it was important to make the car look right.

The Z is now 4 inches wider overall, so the fenders were made 2 inches wider but not flared. The rear quarter panels, meanwhile, were tapered in, as on a Lamborghini Miura. The added width in the custom doors allowed them to run cooling channels through them to help take heat off the rear brakes.

Although Dean had the wheel size pegged at 17 x 11, he wanted to keep a semi-stock look with kidney bean wheels. Something like the Ansen Sprints, but much bigger. Try as he might, he couldn’t find anything that fit the bill, so he started talking with a wheel manufacturer in Australia. When they asked him how many wheels he needed, Dean told them four. “Sorry mate, we only do runs of 4000,” came the reply. “But we could make you some samples.” Deal! Dean got blank samples, drilled them for a Ford five-bolt pattern, and widened them to 11 inches. They are now backed by Wilwood brakes.

Under the hood, Dean and Bob went to great pains to conceal as much of the wiring as possible, and all the harnesses and relays were hidden. Of course, the engine itself couldn’t be left alone. The basis was a 2.8-liter block from the Datsun 280Z, to which they added a high-performance cam, Carillo rods and pistons, and triple 40-mm Mikuni carburetors with K&N filters. It is hooked up to a Tremec five-speed transmission, which makes the car an easy-driving cruiser.

Unlike the car’s exterior, however, the interior is stock. “I insisted that it remain stock,” Dean says. “In fact, every piece of the interior is original to the car except the carpeting.”

Dean and Bob built up the car to ensure everything fit properly, then took it all apart before turning the body over to Wayne Rollins of East Coast Motorsports to do the finish bodywork and apply a flawless paint job in Sight Orange.

The Z is now a bit more muscular, a bit more refined. Dean has taken a classic design and added some flair without taking away from the original, and in the process, he and Bob turned a great sports car into a world-class GT.

As a racer, Cusano has driven 240Zs and E-Types, and he knows their handling characteristics. “Those are long, skinny cars that push and lean a lot,” he says. To negate that, Bob adds, “We’ve made the car lower and wider, with a lower center of gravity.”

“It’s more neutral-handling and better balanced,” Dean says. “More like a C4 Corvette than the original.”

Dean and Bob made big changes from the original but never compromised the ride. They had a blast in the process, too, as each man appreciated the other’s talent and input while their ideas came together over 2000 hours of close work. Whatever Dean envisioned, Bob could weld into reality. “I loved every minute of the build. It was a fantastic experience,” Dean says. “Would I do it again? Not a chance.”

The biggest compliment Dean gets with the car comes when people walk by it at a show and don’t notice the difference. Then the people who know Zs see it and have their minds blown.

When he took delivery, Fran’s mind was blown, too. The car was simultaneously a blast from the past and beyond all expectations. He gave the Z a vanity plate with a nod to Yutaka Katayama, the man known as Mr. K, the father of the 240Z.

Many hours and many dollars went into creating a custom machine, which looks like it could have come from the factory. Ask Fran, though, and he’ll tell you that you can’t put a price on memories.

***

Check out the Hagerty Media homepage so you don’t miss a single story, or better yet, bookmark it. To get our best stories delivered right to your inbox, subscribe to our newsletters.

The post What Happens When a Z-Car Obsessive Hands a Hot Rodder a Blank Check and a 240Z appeared first on Hagerty Media.

Back in late 1960, if you were to walk into the nearest Studebaker dealer to spec your new Hawk, you could have ticked the boxes next to things like air conditioning, fully reclining front seats, tinted glass, seat belts front and rear, a tissue dispenser, a push-button transistor radio, a Skytop sunroof, and much, much more. Nowhere in that “much, much more,” however, would you find a rumble seat.

Studebaker never offered such potentially lethal accommodations from the factory—especially not in a car that already had a rear seat—but Frank Hilker, an enterprising dealer in Chicago Heights, Illinois, certainly gave it a go. He reportedly sent a pair of Hawks and a pair of Larks south to the nearby town of Bradley, where brothers Len and Corky Cooley customized them with the unique feature.

It seems that Hilker hoped the custom Studes would help drive traffic to his shop on Halsted Avenue, and that perhaps Studebaker might consider a factory conversion. It’s not clear if the increased traffic actually drove sales, but it is clear that the factory never considered taking up the endeavor.

If you’re the type who wonders “Where are they now?” well, here’s one. This ’61 Hawk is currently listed for sale on Facebook Marketplace for either $35,000 or $50,000, depending on which part of the ad you’re inclined to believe. But it’s certainly not a new listing, as previous attempts by the Michigan seller to offload it on Facebook go back to at least July 2022, when Antique Automobile Club of America (AACA) forum members first flagged it for discussion. (Credit for bringing it back to our attention goes to barnfinds.com.) Back then it had a $40,000 price tag, but the text of the ad is otherwise unchanged:

“1961 Studebaker Hawk, one of a kind. Has built in rumble seat. 2 were made, this is the only one left. Excellent shape. 63,000 original miles. Interior great condition. Very clean car. Engine 289 CU / 259 HP 4 barrel Auto trans. All chrome and badges are excellent with zero rust on body. Reason for selling, can’t drive anymore.”

In the limited number of photos, the car does appear to be in pretty good (not excellent) shape, though the bloom has definitely fallen off the restoration, which was done in the 1970s, when the car was painted in its present Flamingo colorway. These days, a “regular” Studebaker Hawk in #1 (Concours) condition will run you close to fifty grand. It’s hard to price one-offs, especially when there’s no factory connection, but given this car’s failure to sell for so long, it’s hard not to think the asking price is ambitious. Facebook probably isn’t the right venue for this one, either.

A goofy framed scroll accompanying the listing states that “this particular car is the sole surviving Rumble seat equipped Hawk. The other car Was destroyed in an accident several years ago.” We can only hope no one was in that ejector rumble seat at the time.

***

Check out the Hagerty Media homepage so you don’t miss a single story, or better yet, bookmark it. To get our best stories delivered right to your inbox, subscribe to our newsletters.

The post It Ain’t Easy to Hawk a One-Off Rumble-Seat Studebaker appeared first on Hagerty Media.

By the time the new-for-’69 Triumph TR6 arrived in showrooms, it was already an old soul. In an era when many of its contemporaries had made the leap to unibody construction, the TR6’s body-on-frame architecture could trace its DNA back to the TR4 of 1961, and, if you looked hard enough, even further back to the 1953 TR2. In its bid to update the Michelotti-styled TR5, however, and to help disguise (quite literally) its ancient roots, Triumph called on Germany’s Karmann coachworks for an impromptu glow-up.

The result was a visually taller, more upright design, where—outside, at least—only the doors and windshield frame carried over from its predecessor. Underneath, it was business as usual, with the TR5’s chassis, powertrain, and suspension largely unaltered.

Many marque purists abhorred the new look, but the result spoke for itself: Triumph moved nearly 92,000 TR6s through the end of 1976, including 13,702 fuel-injected cars, mostly for the U.K. market, and 78,147 carbureted variants, most of which came to North America. Chassis number CC82276U, our Sale of the Week, was one such TR6 destined for these shores. On March 6, it sold on Bring A Trailer for $23,887, including fees.

There’s a lot to be said for a stellar color combination, and this TR6, finished in Damson over tan, speaks volumes. Now, much like every color in a J. Crew catalog or the paint section of Home Depot, Damson says nothing on its own, because what the heck is Damson? Metallicky maroony strawberryish is one way to put it. “One of the finest reds you will ever see on a sports car” is how one of BAT’s commenters pegged it. However it’s best described, it does look absolutely fetching in the online photos, especially when set off by the rich tan of the interior.

The Damson, the tan, and more were part of a $25,000 refurbishment done in 2011 by Her Majesty’s Auto Service (has there ever been a better name for British shop?) in Rhode Island, a year after the seller bought the car. The work included stripping the TR6 to bare metal, minor rust repair around the lights, then a full repaint. All chrome was redone, and the seats were rebuilt and reupholstered, with new carpets installed and the wooden dash replaced. The torquey, 106-hp 2.5-liter straight-six and its twin Zenith-Stromberg carbs were still in fine fettle at the time and received only new hoses and wires, a tune-up, and fresh fluids.

One of the great attributes of a hybridized selling/social media platform like Bring A Trailer is the input from folks who have made a hobby out of following sales like this one. For starters, the initial listing contained several factual errors about the car: It was dubbed maroon over chestnut, said to be fuel injected, and claimed to have air conditioning and a cassette player. None of these things were true, and all were flagged in the comments by those in the know. To its credit, BAT was quick to react, and within hours the text was updated, with thanks to those who pointed out the inconsistencies.

More importantly, however, was the invaluable input provided by one commenter in particular, “traveler501.” This user was local to the Florida seller and asked to come by to see the car in person. Three days later there appeared in the comments an incredibly forthright assessment purely for the benefit of those bidding.

“The owner isn’t a ‘car guy’ and to some extent doesn’t know what he’s got,” they wrote. “I was surprised to find that the owner has a 6-inch stack of receipts showing a remarkable amount of work done, not just body and interior, but going over all the mechanical stuff thoughtfully and just tidying up what was needed, leaving the rest original.

“Driving the car was also a nice surprise. It sounds good, rides well, front end is tight, it shifts and downshifts readily.… I have had both low- and high-mileage TR6s in the past and this honestly feels like a well-cared-for 80K-mile car. Btw, when driving it, the temperature gauge went to exactly center dial and stayed there, and the oil pressure, fully warmed up, was 70 or slightly higher psi at 2000 rpm, 50 psi at idle.”

If you are not a car person but are selling a car person’s car to car people, those are precisely the kinds of important details you probably won’t know to mention.

The TR6 is not perfect, of course. As noted in the listing, the odometer is stuck on 79,000 miles, which the seller reckons happened about 300 miles ago. Perhaps more concerning to interested parties is some bubbling beneath the paint on the hood. Given its Florida locale, it would be easy to assume that salt air has begun to rear its ugly head, which might cause nervous, faraway bidders to think twice. Au contraire! says our helpful friend on the ground. “It’s not rust. My best guess is that there were some tiny droplets of contamination in the air that were absorbed into the primer on just the hood (perhaps it was painted off the car?). They caused the paint to raise in tiny blisters … maybe .1 inch in diameter and .050 inches high. They’re scattered here and there on the hood, easy to miss visually if you’re not looking for them, and stable (haven’t changed in 13 years)….”

Again, it’s hard to put a price on this kind of unbiased scrutiny, and few cars that cross the online auction blocks of the world are subjected to it. Other commenters, and the seller, were grateful for added information.

In the old-car hobby, we often talk about “finding your tribe,” that group of like-minded souls who share a passion for a given marque or model and are always willing to bend over backwards to help a fellow member. Thanks to the efforts of one person—who wasn’t bidding and seemed not to have any skin in the game—that’s exactly what went down in the days leading up to this car’s sale.

In the end, this lovely TR6 sold to an excited buyer in San Diego, its result smack-dab in between our #2 (Excellent) and #3 (Good) values, which is exactly where it belonged. It is a great car—and a great deal of car for the money, given that all the expensive stuff is done. The new owner should be in store for many years of trouble-free driving adventures.

Well sold, well bought, and a great reminder that kind-hearted enthusiasts are everywhere, always willing to lend a hand, just because they can.

The post This TR6 Sale Is a Triumph for the Hobby appeared first on Hagerty Media.

The 914 debuted in 1970, and for too much of its existence, the mid-engine Porsche lived a life of ignominy in the eyes of casual car enthusiasts, and even among some Porschephiles. “Not a real Porsche” went the refrain for the car jointly developed with Volkswagen. Priced as such, said the value trends.

Well, the refrain and the trends have changed in the last decade or so, as people have woken up to the fact that, actually, these things are terrific. With their VW-derived 1.7-liter (and later 2.0-liter) four-cylinder engines making roughly 80–90 horsepower, 914s were never blistering performers, but their mid-engine layout and light weight always made them nimble.

Porsche addressed the power issue to some extent with a run of 914s powered by the 125-hp carbureted 2.0-liter flat-six from the 911 T, but the 914/6 makes up just a fraction of the nearly 100,000 914s built through 1976. Still, from the very beginning, Porsche knew what it wanted to do with the 914/6: take it racing.

In 1970 and ’71, the factory built a dozen 914/6 GT race cars to be used as works (or werks) entries for various endurance races and rallies, plus another 47 examples for privateers. The race-prepped cars differed in numerous ways from production 914/6s, of course, including their Type 901/25 engine, which was tweaked with polished intake and exhaust ports, dual ignition, Carrera 6 cams, Weber 46 IDA carbs, and more to deliver significantly more power—around 220 hp at 8000 rpm. The body was widened with steel fender flares, a roll cage was fitted inside, and four large Cibie lights were mounted on the nose. Suspension was courtesy Bilstein rally shocks at all four corners, and vented discs from the 911S provided the stopping power. These purpose-built 914s were quick, too; one of the customer cars won its class and finished sixth overall at Le Mans in 1970.

The 914/6 GT shown here, Project No. 914/58, was the final of the 12 factory cars built, completed in December 1970—just in time for the Monte Carlo Rally the following month. Porsche fielded a trio of 914/6 GTs there, all of them finished in Signal Orange, and all piloted by true hot shoes. In an effort to earn extra points in the rally, competitors were able to begin in far-off locales, and the French duo of driver Gérard Larrousse and co-driver Jean-Claude Perramond strapped into 914/58 in Warsaw, then headed southwest across the continent to the French Riviera.

It proved to be a particularly attritional event, with nearly 90 percent of the 248 competitors failing to finish, including all the factory 914s. This car succumbed to a broken clutch lever, and that was that; no glory for Porsche after three successive Monte victories with 911s.

Vic Elford next made use of 914/58, when he drove it to Sicily in the spring as reconnaissance car for May’s Targa Florio, in which he shared a 908/03 with Larrousse. The trip was not without incident, however, and “Quick Vic” had something of a shunt. In a letter to a Mr. Fiegl in the Experimental Department, Elford wrote: During the Targa Florio pre-practice I had a slight accident with another car. The car involved was an Opel Olympia… [Fellow Porsche racer] Mr. Herbert Muller arrived shortly after the accident and explained to [the Opel’s owner] that the Porsche insurance would cover everything, although it was obviously 50/50 since both cars were in the middle of the road. The Opel had damage to all the body panels on the left side and some mechanical damage to the steering. The damage to the Porsche you are aware of.

Whatever the damage, it was minor, and after two years spent as something of a test mule in the engineering department, the car was then sold to Porsche engineer Walther Näher, with whom it stayed for 30 years. Näher began a restoration on the car in 2002, making liberal use of rare parts and expertise from Porsche to correctly return 914/58 to its “as raced” Monte Carlo spec. As one of its Monte stablemates had long ago been scrapped by the factory, and the other converted in period by racing safety pioneer Herbert Linge into a safety car, Näher’s efforts to preserve his 914/6’s history were admirable.

Jeff Zwart acquired the car in 2010. Anyone whose Instagram algorithm has ever served them classic car content has likely seen Zwart’s photo and video work. The commercial film director, photographer, racer, and Porsche collector showed his Monte Carlo 914/6 GT at events like Rennsport Reunion IV and at the 2015 Amelia Island Concours, where it won best in class.

A spot on the lawn at Pebble Beach last year as part of the Porsche 75th Anniversary class is the final feather in the cap of this otherwise unremarkable race and road car’s rather remarkable journey. “A real Porsche indeed,” goes the new refrain. When it crosses the block this week, it is estimated to sell for $1.2M–$1.5M. And if it sells, what might the value trends say then? Priced accordingly, we suspect.

***

Check out the Hagerty Media homepage so you don’t miss a single story, or better yet, bookmark it. To get our best stories delivered right to your inbox, subscribe to our newsletters. 

The post This Porsche 914/6 GT Werks in All the Right Ways appeared first on Hagerty Media.

The early 1970s were a confusing period in the engine bays of America’s cars, which saw the introduction of power-sapping emissions equipment, low compression, and crazy new math to calculate horsepower. None of it quite added up to the free-for-all fun our cars had been having just a few years prior.

Thankfully, there was Pontiac, which had a fine reputation for stuffing huge engines into small cars, a practice as much appreciated by enthusiast collectors today as it was by enthusiast buyers back then. GM’s performance division did its best to stave off the unstoppable downward trajectory of output headed our way.

Pontiac’s Firebirds were a prime example of the “no replacement for displacement” mantra, and they put up a good fight. The 1971 Trans Am, with its high-output 455-cubic-inch V-8, “only” churned out 335 horses, compared with the 370 from the previous year’s 400-cid V-8. By 1973, some 455-equipped Trans Ams were cranking out a mere 250 hp, and let’s not even talk about 1975…

In 1972, however, things were still relatively sunny in Poncho engine bays (the 174-day UAW strike at Norwood Assembly notwithstanding). That year, Pontiac built just 1286 Firebird Trans Ams equipped with the 455 HO motor, which made an even 300 horsepower and hefty 415 lb-ft of torque. You could spec yours with either a three-speed automatic or a close-ratio M22 four-speed manual, and 458 TAs were ordered as such. That number includes our Sale of the Week car, which brought $102,375 with fees on Bring A Trailer when it sold on February 17.

This Trans Am was delivered from the factory in Cameo White over an Ivory vinyl interior to Al Ives Pontiac in Tonawanda, New York, and sold with a sticker price of $4651.32. Goodies included a Safe-T-Track limited-slip differential, a shaker hood, power front disc brakes, quick-ratio power steering, a Hurst shifter, a Formula steering wheel, Rally gauges, and an engine-turned dash.

The car was fully restored in 2014 using many of the original parts, along with new old stock (NOS) replacements when possible, and it appears that power windows, a period-correct AM/FM radio, and the gorgeous 15-inch honeycomb wheels were added at that time (Rally II wheels were standard). It still has its original engine and transmission and comes with documentation from Pontiac Historic Services.

The car was consigned to BaT by Nevada dealer Pulse Exotics on behalf of Pontiac collector George Pehanick. In all, Pulse is selling nine of Pehanick’s cars, including six stunning, highly optioned Pontiacs (a pair of ’67 GTO convertibles, a ’61 Ventura restomod, a numbers-matching 1970 GTO Ram Air IV, and a rare 1970 Trans Am Ram Air IV among them). It’s always nice to know that the car you’re bidding on came from someone who truly appreciated it.

Pehanick acquired this Trans Am in 2019, purchased for $96,250 at Mecum’s Kissimmee auction. At the time, the odometer reading was, according to that listing, “believed to be 36,200 miles.” In photos on BaT, the odometer shows 56,485 miles, “less than 1500 of which were added under current ownership. Total mileage is unknown.” The inconsistency was flagged by commenters and addressed by Pulse: “We believe the claimed original 36,000 miles by one of the major auction houses in their listing may have been a bit of hyperbole. Perhaps they meant to list 56,000. In any event, we can assure you the owner of the car for the last 5 years has put very little miles on the car.” The explanation is corroborated by a user claiming to be the handler for Pehanick’s cars.

Bidding opened at $22,222 and in 45 minutes had gone up to $60,000, fueling speculation in the comments that the selling price was going to reach the stratosphere. One commenter went so far as to claim these Ponchos “would be worth a million if they had a Ferrari or Maserati badge.” That’s likely true, but given the nature of the Ferrari market, so would a Ventura II, which is not an insult to Trans Ams, but merely a reflection on our wacky world.

This Trans Am did not sell for a million, of course, and in fact sold for nearly the exact same price it did five years ago in Florida. Back then, we likely would have considered it to be very well sold in #2 (Excellent) condition, when its approximate price guide value was $60,000. Today, a decade removed from its restoration, despite limited use, the car is likely closer to something between #2 and #3 (Good), which would peg its value around … $60,000. In that regard, we’d have to say, again, this car was very well sold.

The post History Repeats Itself for This Pontiac Firebird Trans Am 455 HO appeared first on Hagerty Media.

So, as expected, the presale estimate of $25,000 to $35,000 that Christie’s placed on Elton John’s 1990 Bentley Continental was miles out. Bidding at the February 21st live auction in New York finished with a total price, including fees, of $441,000.

The car itself was cool, even without Elton’s stamp of approval. Black coachwork over black leather perfectly offset the silver alloy rims and a walnut dash. This two-door, 6758-cc convertible is also of the era that is just so “now.” Frankly, this car would have sold well whoever the owner was.

But let’s not pretend that Elton John’s ownership didn’t make this an uber-collectible car. The singer is known for his love of cars, and he was especially passionate about this one, driving it regularly in California before having it shipped to Europe and using it there, describing it as his “Beloved” Continental and gushing over how wonderful it looked. It does indeed look wonderful, and this provenance gave it a massive boost when it hit the rostrum.

Hagerty tracks the value that celebrity ownership adds to cars through the annual Power List, and this will be the 18th sale of Elton’s cars that our valuation team has tracked (which, coincidentally, is the third highest number, behind just Steve McQueen and Paul Walker). The average increase of Elton John’s other cars over a standard equivalent has been 115 percent. This sale result was nearly five times the Hagerty price guide #2 (Excellent) value of $93,500. That’s a big number.

The post Elton John’s Continental Shift appeared first on Hagerty Media.

In 1976, I was 12 years old and really into cars. My friend Tim and I would ride our bicycles all over suburban Boston to scour car dealerships for their point-of-purchase brochures. That summer, Chevrolet unveiled “The New Chevrolet,” a completely redesigned full-sized B-Body Caprice and Impala. I still recall seeing an ad and being so mesmerized by the new design. That feeling stuck with me, simmering on a low flame within my subconscious into adulthood.

I’ve been in music my whole career, and early on I got into the world of high-end audiophile music systems and exotic cars. Eventually I opened a car audio/security shop in Fairfield, Connecticut, called Audio Coupe. One day around town, I happened to see two unmarked 1988 9C1 police-package Caprices being prepped for decommission and auction. One of them, this car, had been primarily used to give out parking tickets at the local train station and had clearly been well maintained, so I decided to buy it. My wife likes to remind me that I went to register the car a few days after our daughter was born in early June, 1996. I paid $2800 for the car.

Even with 90,000 miles on it and worn police-issue Firestone tires, the Caprice lay flat through turns, much more adeptly than you might expect for a sizable sedan. Mind you, this is no BMW M5—but I was surprised how well it performed overall and how reliable the Quadrajet carburetor was.

The police-issue bucket seats over rubber floors were an odd look but I liked it, so I just replaced the flooring with fresh rubber, refreshed other worn parts, and had the seats reconstructed.

The stock 350 small-block was low horsepower/high torque, and the final drive was 3:08, so the car was fun off the line, had a silly top speed, and barely made it up steep hills. The first two things I fixed were the exhaust system and the balky, always-hunting 700R4 automatic with overdrive. For the former, I had a custom dual stainless 2.25-inch system made up, and the latter was replaced with a high-performance 700R4 with manual lockup. I’m a cruiser, not a racer, and it has been marvelous for years.

I chose the best body shop around—they were all hot rod guys—and had the car carefully massaged and sprayed with a slightly modified version of the factory color and many layers of lovingly sanded clear coat. I used factory-new Chevy parts to replace all of the rubber gaskets and chrome trim, the bumpers, and the mirrors, and I ditched all of the glue-on trim, the hood ornament, the AM/FM antenna, and the spotlight in order to get the cleanest possible look.

Regardless of the tortuous task of keeping up with revolving EPA regulations during the 1970s and ’80s, GM most certainly should be ashamed of itself for the mess under the hood that it turned loose on customers throughout the era. When addressing the engine bay, I asked my builder to clean house and start fresh. I wanted something utilitarian and sensible.

I chose a turnkey small-block from Chevy called the Fast Burn 385, which is the venerable ZZ4 with upgraded aluminum heads, a Holley 750 and a serpentine belt system. We put the motor on a dyno and it gave me back just under 400 hp, perfect for my recreational cruising and the occasional charity car show here in my new hometown of St. Petersburg, Florida.

We ditched the ugly fan shroud and installed electric fans, chucked the ugly plastic bottles for the washer fluid and coolant overflow and replaced those with stainless containers tucked out of the way. I then added an aircraft-grade aluminum fresh air intake system reminiscent of the old Ram Air concept, with a snorkel under the bumper on the driver’s side.

The 700R4 transmission has been flawless, spinning my custom-made driveshaft and U-joints back to a Moser Engineering Ford 9-inch limited-slip 3.73:1 rear end. The car sits on Bilstein shocks and new springs, slightly lowered from the factory stance, with new Hotchkiss suspension and sway bars front and rear. The brakes are Wilwood vented discs front and rear. I was super careful in hunting for wheels, seeking to upgrade performance but maintain a retro visual appearance. The offset American Racing 18-inch Rally rims did the trick beautifully, letting me spin down the highway on fat Michelin tires.

Inside, I added a Dakota Digital instrument cluster that gives me an integrated tachometer, and of course I built a music system that sounds great but is not visible in any way. I replaced the 1988 windshield with glass from a 1977 model so I could get the AM/FM antenna in the window and lose the fender-mounted mast.

I have had the Caprice for 27 years now. It has that traditional muscle car rumble at just the right volume, and people seem to appreciate it more as I drive by or pull into a cruise night. They also like to share stories of the four-door family hauler their parents had when they were kids. Some people are puzzled as to why I chose this car, and I totally get that. Building a Caprice is an irrational thing to do—certainly not with the potent resale value of a Corvette or Camaro. But it is my counter-culture hot rod, and that’s perfectly fine with me.

***

Check out the Hagerty Media homepage so you don’t miss a single story, or better yet, bookmark it. To get our best stories delivered right to your inbox, subscribe to our newsletters.

The post This Police Caprice Is Loving Retirement as a Sleeper Hot Rod appeared first on Hagerty Media.

Few cars represent American racing success on the world stage quite like the Ford GT40. Sure, that famous 1-2-3 finish at Le Mans in 1966 cemented the GT40’s place in our collective vehicular memory and kicked off a four-year run of dominance at the French circuit. But during their heyday, in the hands of factory and privateer racers alike, GT40s also scored victories around the globe—from Italy to Rhodesia, Canada to South Africa, Belgium to Brazil.

And while we won’t go so far as to say that the mighty sports racers also made for adequate grocery-getters, in accordance with period homologation rules that required production of at least 50 cars, some GT40s were built for street use. This car, chassis no. P/1069, is one such grocery getter.

Total GT40 production, from Mk I to Mk IV variants, is estimated to be 105 examples. This includes 289- and 427-powered Mk I and Mk II cars, as well as the more radical racing Mk IV, or “J cars,” of which 12 were built. And it includes the seven Mk III cars, which were designed from the start for road use, with extra headlights, softer springs, a detuned V-8, and extended rear bodywork to allow for cargo space, among other changes. The GT40 Mk I and Mk II, therefore, comprise the bulk of production, and that includes 31 Mk Is produced for the street. Few have a history as colored—literally and figuratively—as P/1069, also known as “the Hostage Car.”

Built alongside its racing counterparts at Ford Advanced Vehicles in England, the car was completed in mid-February 1967. Finished in Opalescent Silver Blue, it rode on Borrani wire wheels and was powered by a small-block 289 “Hi-Po” V-8, breathing through four Weber carburetors and mated to a five-speed ZF transaxle. It was one of 20 Mk I GT40s earmarked for Ford’s Promotion and Disposal Program—a press loaner, essentially—and was originally one of six Mk Is slated to go to Shelby American for use among the firm’s field managers. That never happened. In fact, this car wouldn’t reach our shores for decades.

Instead, the car went to Switzerland, as a loaner for the dealership run by Georges Filipinetti, who, in addition running the Scuderia Filipinetti racing outfit (with which he campaigned a GT40 and a Cobra Daytona coupe at Le Mans in 1965) had become the official Swiss distributor for Ford Performance. Filipinetti had P/1069’s color changed to Metallic Borneo Green and displayed it that March at the Geneva Motor Show. Then, it seems, he just kind of kept it for the rest of the year, despite increasing protestations from fellow racing principal John Wyer, who understandably wanted the car for his own promotional purposes. This minor feud earned the car its captive nickname.

Back in England by early 1968, P/1069 got road registered as AHK 940F, the designation it still wears today. The car made the rounds, serving as a tester for various motoring journalists, including Denis Jenkinson, who in Motor reported the car’s ZF five-speed to be at the top of his list of “desirable gearboxes,” but only after proclaiming to a friend who’d asked about parking it in London: “I wouldn’t want to take it to London, let alone park it there.” Jenks, you see, had the car for “motoring with a capital ‘M’ not for parking.” He had the right idea.

It was back on the Geneva show stand in ’69, before British businessman and fine motorcar aficionado Anthony Bamford purchased it and had it color-changed again, this time to yellow. The car changed hands at least five times over the next three years, and was painted yet again, this time dark green. At some point in 1972, it suffered fire damage at the hands of its newest owner, the result of an errantly fitted fuel cap as he drove it home for the first time. The subsequent owner had the car restored, which included another color change, back to yellow.

It finally made its way to the States in 1999, and into the hands of Connecticut collector Barney Hallingby, until he traded P/1069, along with a 289 Cobra, a Ferrari 330 GTS and 275 GTB, plus some cash, for an Aston Martin DB4 GT Zagato. Quite the transaction, that.

Back to Europe it went, back through a series of hands, until this street GT40 was given a proper retirement racing in vintage events throughout the 2000s and 2010s, including the Goodwood Revival in 2012 and ’13. Under its current ownership, GT40 P/1069 is once again painted Opalescent Silver Blue. And at the 2024 Amelia Island auctions, it is once again for sale.

Eighteen separate owners over the years is no small feat, but perhaps that is the fate of a street car you don’t want to park. How this one will fare when it hits the auction block in Amelia Island in early March is anyone’s guess, although its full documentation from new, and the colorful history it all encapsulates, is sure to boost its appeal. With so few street-going Mk I GT40s produced, ownership opportunities don’t arise often, although, curiously, Mecum just sold a 1966 Mk I in January for $6,930,000, including fees. If P/1069 sells within its presale estimate of $4M–$5M, you might even call it a bargain.

***

Check out the Hagerty Media homepage so you don’t miss a single story, or better yet, bookmark it. To get our best stories delivered right to your inbox, subscribe to our newsletters.

The post Will This Road-Going GT40’s “Colorful” History Add to Its Auction Appeal? appeared first on Hagerty Media.

The first time I saw a Range Rover, I was ten years old, peering out of the back seat windows of our 1978 Plymouth Volaré, waiting in line to be dropped off for the first day of school. I still remember how the Plymouth’s oven-hot plastic seats burned my skin, and the smell of the air inside our car—it reeked of floorboard fungi fueled by the perfect conditions of mystery roof leak water and Chrysler Corporation shag carpeting.

Our car smelled like cheese and the FM radio only seemed to work on even calendar days. These new, seemingly alien vehicles—the model was later named the Range Rover Classic by the factory—were adorned with aromatic, soft leather complemented by contrasting piping. The driver and passengers inside had perfect cotillion-like posture while sitting much higher than what appeared to be necessary. These Range Rovers even had something called “CD changers,” which played a multitude of compact discs … from the back of the car.

Now, 30-ish years later, I grab my son from the pick-up line in a Range Rover, a 2008 Supercharged model. However, our truck doesn’t cause any 10-year-olds to crane their necks out of back-seat windows. In the eyes of my son and his generation, it’s just a 15-year-old SUV that does this neat thing where it can raise itself up and down with the press of a button. For me, however, it feels special because it retains many characteristics of the Land Rovers I first admired: green gauges, a symmetrical dashboard, contrasting piping on the soft leather seats, the same general boxy geometry. Would I have preferred to carry on the school pick-up custom in a Classic? Absolutely, but for most auto enthusiasts, the Venn diagram of availability, reliability, and feasibility rarely has Range Rover Classic in the center. So far, my 2008 Supercharged has been a successful attempt to create that intersection.

If you are not most auto enthusiasts, and have money to spare, Florida-based ECD (formerly East Coast Defenders) will help you consolidate that Rover Venn diagram into one tight circle. ECD’s take on the Classic aims to grab the attention of people like myself, who grew up around the first-generation Rovers and wish to relive those early luxury experiences with added reliability and more personal touches.

Land Rover’s original target demographic was well-to-do tradesmen and farmers who had outgrown their extremely utilitarian Series I and II tractor-like trucks. Originally conceptualized as “A Car for All Reasons,” the first Range Rover was revealed in 1970 as a three-door Ford Bronco-inspired truck with seating for five and a towing capacity of just under 4 tons. The new Rover’s comfort and surprising on- and off-road capabilities were quickly appreciated by wealthy, clear-scheduled outdoor hobbyists and enthusiasts seeking to comfortably arrive at their favorite ski resorts and remote hunting lodges.

Word of the truck’s prowess quickly spread overseas, where aristocrats in bygone British colonies snatched up as many as they could to handle the rigors of poor roads and still-developing infrastructure. Many of those new owners would never set foot on a pedal, as the most elite Rover owners preferred to be chauffeured than to drive themselves like the commoners. To satisfy this burgeoning foreign market, independent limousine upfitters and coachbuilders took it upon themselves to elongate the plucky three-door Rovers into a chauffeur-able amalgamation fit for African, Middle Eastern, and Southeast Asian royalty.

One of those coachbuilders was Monteverdi, a small-batch Swiss luxury car brand born from a racing engine repair relationship with Ferrari and Lancia, which saw limited success in the 1960s. In the mid-1970s, Monteverdi found a little niche in the newly established SUV market with its Safari, a rebodied and well-appointed International Harvester Scout. The Safari was of comparable three-door Rover size and came standard with a Chrysler 5.2-liter V-8. It was said to be optionable with the enormous and as-of-that-moment surplus 7.2 big-block, which was a casualty of America’s contemporary Clean Air Act legislation.

When Monteverdi began offering the stretched Rovers alongside the Safari, buyers flocked to their English counterpart, despite the Safari’s clear performance advantages and novelty luxe items, like power windows and softer interior trim.

The success of the elongated Range Rover soon caught the attention of Land Rover— newly independent of British Leyland—whose endorsement of the longer wheelbase refashioning was so strong that the original factory warranty was courteously extended to owners of Monteverdi-modified examples. The two companies became unlikely sales partners in 1978, whereupon five-door, Italian-built Monteverdi Range Rovers could be purchased directly from British Land Rover dealerships.

In 1981, Land Rover began to roll full-size Ranges off its own assembly lines, signaling the beginning of the end of the Monteverdi Rover era (the latter’s expensive Volaré-based Sierra sedan certainly didn’t help). By then, the altruistic Swiss company had already done most of Land Rover’s heavy lifting in the five-door branding and marketing department, creating a sales segment in wealthy automotive markets where the Safari had done well. Securing orders for the future “Classic” was a breeze.

When the boxy, original Range Rovers of the ’80s and ’90s were finally phased out of production, they briefly shared the same assembly line with their successor, the P38 Range Rover. The newer, more square-bodied truck offered an updated drivetrain and more luxe bits but never seemed to recapture the magic of the Classic. Horror stories of electric gremlins and dealer floor models having to be pushed out of the showroom directly into service bays would malign the brand for years, leading many long-time Rover evangelists to abandon their enthusiasm for more reliable options.

Into that void steps ECD Automotive Design, a Kissimmee, Florida–based company that first made a name for itself building bespoke Defender trucks for clients all over the world. After hand-building a large number of stunning, highly individualized vehicles, ECD plotted out its next move. Aptly, it bet that the next generation of Land Rover enthusiasts would be people like me—the backseat dreamers of the early ’90s.

The company’s roots trace back to 2012, when co-founder Tom Humble moved to the U.S. from Britain, taking a job in Florida with Volkswagen and Porsche, where he focused on dealer training. Humble’s parents had preceded him in the Sunshine State, a place the Humble family had enjoyed holidays for years.

The Humble family had a rich history of personal garage tinkering with various English vehicles, and when it was time to make the move across the Atlantic, Tom decided to bring along two previously tinkered family Defenders for the cool factor alone. Original as they came, Humble realized his 1983 model with a four-speed manual wasn’t an ideal fit for busy, sometimes unreasonable Florida traffic, so it was soon relegated to eBay for sale.

“I remember people coming to view it in my little garage, in the apartment complex where I lived, and after it sold, people kept contacting me. Can you find me one? Can you bring one in?” Humble says.

From there, the “I want ones” and the “Do you have any mores” turned into “When you find one, can you do this to it, or can you do that to it?”

Sensing that the surprising attention and demand from one eBay listing could turn into something much bigger, Humble began planning early individual builds in his free time with available parts and the few resources he had located in his new area. There were some build aspects that necessitated outsourcing, but the goal was to finish projects with as little outside help or influence as possible.

As word got out and demand increased, Tom’s brother Elliot was brought into the fold. Elliot was working for a university in England and had become his brother’s parts lifeline; he’d bring original Land Rover bits and pieces in his luggage when he’d visit the family in Florida.

The brothers got busier and busier and the “reading weeks” Elliot used as excuses to get away from university work became more frequent.

It was on one of these trips when the brothers attended a dinner party hosted by Scott Wallace, a friend and fellow British transplant with a background in private equity. Upon their arrival, Tom Humble remembers Wallace and his guest’s reaction to their blacked-out Defender’s commanding presence and driveway demeanor.

“Scott had never seen one in the U.S. before and was kind of taken aback. We spent the rest of the night drinking Coronas and talking about Defenders.”

As the evening progressed and the two talked cars, Wallace subtly proposed what Humble felt was a dare: “If you want to do this properly, quit your job, and get rid of your safety net. If you do, I’ll grow it with you.” In less time than it took for the original Range Rover to be declared a Classic, Wallace and the Humble brothers were verbally in business.

Their first step toward incorporation occurred in an unlikely place. The trio’s preeminent business meeting was an impromptu, hours-long get-together in a mid-Florida Wawa convenience store, where the first order of business was buying out Elliot’s position at Leeds University and making him CTO. Scott would serve as CEO and Tom as CXO—the Client Experience Officer, encompassing sales, customer service, and overall experience.

A U.K.-based node would allow ECD to source and maintain a steady supply of solid vehicles and parts that could be exported to the U.S. to satisfy new orders, a plan which ultimately allowed the company the advantage of sidestepping many issues other businesses had during the pandemic.

By the end of 2013, ECD employed four craftspeople. Wallace’s original dinner party dare had turned serendipitous by 2021, as Land Rover Defenders were the second-most imported vehicle into the United States, bested only by the venerable R32 Nissan GT-R. Today, ECD has 80 employees working side-by-side in a sprawling facility in Kissimmee, and the company is publicly traded via NASDAQ.

A primary company ideal dating back to Tom Humble’s initial builds included no outsourcing. Having in-house upholsterers, electricians, engine builders, and other craftspeople would allow ECD to directly manage the adventurous build timelines and quality-control benchmarks the trio believed would be paramount to their success. This business model allows trucks to be built completely in-house within a 16-day period, with each stage of manufacturing lasting four days. Quality control can be more closely scrutinized, with hand-picked parts and materials approved from within. To bring the customer directly into the manufacturing process, clients can request daily updates and are able to watch their trucks throughout every stage of the build via ECD’s in-shop webcams.

Shifting from their wildly successful Defender builds, Humble and his team moved into the Classic realm with an emphasis on providing their clients with a more refined, confident model that harkens back to the original Range Rover concept. Currently, the Classic makes up a little more than 10 percent of ECD’s build schedule.

“In my mind,” says Humble, “the Classic encapsulates Old World luxury, go-anywhere ability, and with our touch, a new sense of reliability and quality. It is a superb family vehicle, especially the LWB version with the huge amount of space for rear passengers.” It excels in modern school pick-up line comfort and efficiency, in other words.

“I’ve a 2019 Range Rover SV,” he continues. “Once the kids’ seats are in the back they can hardly climb in, whereas when I put the seats in my 1993 LSE they can climb in with backpacks, the dog, and anything else they wish, and still have plenty of room.”

All ECD builds are given unique project names by clients and their families. When I joined Tom Humble and his team in Raleigh, North Carolina, on a pre-SEMA leg of ECD’s outreach event tour, graciously hosted by Carolina Exotic Car Club, I was greeted by “Project Mercer,” a 1995 Range Rover Classic painted in a glossy Epsom Green. This particular truck’s namesake came from its original destination on Mercer Island, in the Seattle area. Noted in a very factory-looking door-jamb nameplate, “Project Mercer” was ECD’s 271st build.

Names aren’t just a reflection on the truck; they also reflect the personality of the owner. As Humble recalls: “We had a client send us his RRC, which he had owned for many years with great memories, which he wanted to rebuild and use again with his family. He told us that it always had a funny smell about it, so he struggled to convince people to use it anymore with him. We shipped the vehicle over to our Florida HQ from California, and once we started tearing it down, we found several dead rats in the air ducts. It was horrendous.

“When we informed the client, he laughed and named the new build Project Stinky. It was rather odd doing a voiceover for one of our new builds and saying in my fake posh English accent ‘This is Project Stinky’.”

As I began to familiarize myself with Project Mercer, my initial walk-around proved highly nostalgic. Those door handles (originally a British Leyland parts bin item first seen on the Allegro, but more courteously remembered as being fitted to the Lotus Esprit), the round, sealed-beam headlights, and my favorite underbite-y square taillights that peer out meekly from each corner; it all felt like a fall afternoon in the middle school pick-up line.

In contrast to untouched, stock Classics, ECD’s truck has a more confident, highway-worthy stance. In both upper and lower suspension positions, the wheels fit perfectly within the unmodified fenders, thanks to compatible axles from its wider Defender cousin, while red Brembo calipers mated with drilled rotors peek through the black, age-appropriate wheels. The addition of functional running boards hides the oversized stainless exhaust needed to allow the supercharged LT4 V-8 to exhale, and they also add a nice mid-wheel line to the truck’s originally optioned long wheelbase. If you’re not familiar with the Classic in its original form, you won’t find too many obvious exterior cues to indicate that this truck is different.

On the inside, many of the original analog Range Rover characteristics that could very easily have been ditched for touchscreen controls are preserved, ceding the sole digital controls to the well-placed iPad-like infotainment system. The original Land Rover analog clock, four-position fan switch, and round temperature/vent control switches remain as a throwback to a time when people pressed spring-loaded buttons and moved tensioned mechanisms.

An upgraded analog dash gauge cluster that could have very easily been mistaken for factory equipment provides only essential information, and the steering wheel remains true to its original form. It is a welcome sight in a world that’s all too keen to go digital. One subtle, electronic Easter egg is an added blind-spot detector, which incorporates small, camouflaged lights into the midsection of the A-pillars.

I am so conditioned to my own truck’s one-touch ignition that at start-up in the ECD Classic, I (embarrassingly) did not hold the key in the starting position long enough for the engine to catch. It was the first note the truck had given me that it wasn’t going to do everything for me—that I needed to pay attention.

The second note came immediately after, when the supercharged LT4 sprang to life, giving a pleasant truck-wide shake that quickly settled to a low but noticeable rumble.

On the road, the truck provided all of the handling feedback I needed to make good decisions. Its wide Defender-based stance gave manageable cues when I was testing cornering limits, with just enough body roll to feel where the truck wanted to go next. When my foot came off the pedal after heavy acceleration, the transmission hovered perfectly in the higher rpms, almost asking, “Are we doing this or not? Because we can absolutely do this.” Braking came naturally and required no distance or pressure adjustments compared with what I was used to in my more modern truck. The Brembos’ responsiveness was a friendly reminder that they were there whenever I needed them.

The Corvette-emblazoned LT4 powerplant gave the same vibe. This isn’t a truck that feels like it should be driven flat out all the time, but if you need to pass that beige Camry lingering on the short highway on-ramp, you’ll have an absolute ball doing so, and the supercharger whine will keep you looking for similar opportunities. When cruising at regular highway speed, the historically smooth feel of a V-8 Land Rover is still present. Along with the creaky leather and tight door closings, the sounds all blend perfectly to create the auricular sentimentality I was hoping for.

The one thing I always take time to appreciate when experiencing a restomod is its sensory aspects. For better or for worse, from vehicle to vehicle they’re all different. Project Mercer was special in the sense (pardon the pun) that it was the first 28-year-old vehicle I had ever driven that smelled like a new car. Not a freshly cleaned car with an obviously chemical new-car scent; it smelled like a genuinely new car.

ECD sources much of its leather from Poltrona Frau in Italy, a company with so many color and texture offerings that, according to Humble, “You can basically pick out the cow.” In Mercer’s case, the leather choice was a simple sandy tone with contrasting chocolate middle seat panels, which coordinated well with the overall original look of the interior. It was soft with precise stitching, which still retained a rich, worn-in creaky sound when shifting in your seat; that’s a hallmark of the Land Rover driving experience.

As trends go, it’s easy to say a style has come back into favor simply because it has been rediscovered by a new generation. That enough time has passed for the originality and attractiveness of that particular thing to come into fashion once again; that it has become a “classic.” With auto-enthusiasm trends, however, it never seems to be that simple.

For a vehicle to be labelled culturally as “classic,” time must pass, details must be debated and scrutinized, and an appreciation should be widely recognized for the contribution that vehicle has made to engineering, nostalgia, and design. One cannot simply do as Land Rover did one morning in 1994, when, as the next-gen P38 Range Rovers rolled down the assembly lines alongside their sharp-angled, round headlight predecessors, the company retroactively declared all pre-P38 Range Rovers to be “Classics.”

Time and progress march on, and the things we once loved are never remanufactured—successfully, anyway—from scratch. For us, automotive enthusiasts of the world, nostalgia is more nuanced. My preference for a 2008 Supercharged instead of the nearly identical 2010, with the latter’s added digital displays, engine power, and trim options, has made me a believer that our willingness to sacrifice modernity for the everyday feelings and visuals of our past is what fuels the next generation’s enthusiasm. We send out deep roots from the cars we grew up with; we want to be the people who drove them, a sentiment with which Tom Humble is familiar.

“Many of our clients who have commissioned our RRC builds have a history with them, a common story being that their parents had one when they were growing up and had fond memories attached. Some have actually been brought to us by the client as that exact surviving vehicle from their childhood.”

For a day, I got to experience a history I had dreamed of as a kid, with perfect driving posture.

And finally, to the person who recently purchased an exact middle-school Brandis-spec 1978 Plymouth Volaré for $7200 via Bring A Trailer, I sincerely hope whatever fulfillment you’re looking for is dry, and fungus-free. And that maybe, just maybe, you are reading this on a Commodore 64.

***

Check out the Hagerty Media homepage so you don’t miss a single story, or better yet, bookmark it. To get our best stories delivered right to your inbox, subscribe to our newsletters. 

The post ECD’s Classic British SUVs are Wisely, Minorly Modernized appeared first on Hagerty Media.

Earlier this month, at the Revs Institute in Naples, Florida, before a packed house of Shelby fans there to celebrate the 25th anniversary of the Series 1 roadster, Shelby American unveiled the Series 2 coupe. The sleek fastback will be limited to just 10 copies.

The history of contemporary Shelby-badged cars not named Mustang or F-150 dates back to that Series 1 roadster of 1999. Oft-maligned, and often unfairly, it was the only car designed from scratch by Carroll Shelby and was billed as the modern successor to the Cobra. A number of factors impacted the success of the promising Series 1, most of which were beyond Shelby’s control, including sticky corporate partnerships, budget overruns, and a disappointing powerplant switch to the Oldsmobile Aurora’s relatively modest 320-hp V-8. Just 249 of the planned 500 Series 1 cars were produced.

Until that is, Maryland-based Wingard Motorsports and Custom Coaches purchased the remaining Series 1 chassis and parts. “We revised the car to reduce weight by maximizing the integration of billeted aluminum and carbon fiber components,” said company founder Bob Wingard in a press release. “We further refined the suspension, braking, and drivetrain to allow an increase of more than twice the horsepower of the original platform. The bodies are now lighter, and the platform will support over 1100 horsepower.” Based on that work, the company released an updated, limited-production Series 2 roadster in 2018.

For the sleek new 25th Anniversary Limited Edition Coupe, Shelby has again granted Wingard an official license to build the car. Just 10 will be produced—three bodied in aluminum and seven in carbon fiber—all of which will be based on the Series 2 roadster’s aluminum honeycomb monocoque frame. Each car, too, will only be offered as rollers, which means buyers will need to supply their own powerplant.

Aluminum-bodied cars, which start at $498,200 minus the powertrain, will come either polished or painted to spec with racing stripes. Carbon-fiber cars start at $385,600. Buyers will have a few options to make these coupes go, with powertrain pricing starting at $83,500, which includes the motor, driveline, and a six-speed transaxle. Those looking for V-8 rumble can fit a Carroll Shelby Engine Company 427 Windsor V-8 or a supercharged Ford Godzilla crate motor. Wingard has also created a performance EV package for those interested in going the electric route.

“While the Shelby Series 2 is based on the first-generation car, it’s a significant leap forward,” said Wingard. “The Shelby Series 2 blends old school craftmanship and current technology, pushing the coupe into super car territory.”

Noted restorer, author, and Shelby historian Colin Comer believes there is much to look forward to. “I’m one of those guys who thinks everything is better as a coupe. Much like the Daytona coupe was to the Cobra roadster, and the Viper GTS was to the RT/10, this new Series 2 coupe really takes the roadster to another level,” Comer told Hagerty. “First, it just looks the business. And obviously being available in carbon fiber or aluminum ups the ante even more.”

In that $500,00–$600,000 all-in price bracket, the new coupe will have no shortage of competition. “The new Mustang GTD supercar, for one, hits the exact same demographic as the Series 2 coupe,” Comer said. “So I’m curious to see who the ten buyers are and what they end up doing with their Shelbys. Certainly, though, from where I sit, this is one heck of a way to celebrate the 25th anniversary of Carroll’s original Series 1 dream.”

***

Check out the Hagerty Media homepage so you don’t miss a single story, or better yet, bookmark it. To get our best stories delivered right to your inbox, subscribe to our newsletters.

The post New Series 2 Coupe Celebrates 25 Years of the Shelby Series 1 Roadster appeared first on Hagerty Media.

In its ongoing bid to not be ranked as the least satisfying fast food chain in America, McDonald’s has called on Hamburglar to help spread the word that the burger joint has upped its game.

Last year, the chefs at Micky D’s started “cooking up small but tasty improvements” to the burger lineup, from the basic Hamburger all the way up to the primo Big Mac. The taste sensations include, but aren’t limited to: “softer, pillowy buns that are freshly toasted, perfectly melted cheese that will make you savor every last bit off the wrapper, and juicier, caramelized flavor from adding white onions to the patties while they’re still on the grill.” Mmm-mm.

With Mayor McCheese headlong into his re-election campaign, Ronald McDonald buried in his obligations as a worldwide fast food ambassador/role model, and Grimace just completely untrustworthy to get the job done, company execs have called on Hamburglar, a common criminal, to deliver the news. And they even gave him a sweet, custom ride.

In fact, the Burgercuda is a 1970 Plymouth Barracuda that looks a lot like Hamburglar, with a white-and-black paint job and matching seats with custom Hamburglar headrests. Rather than spare change, gum wrappers, and hair stuck to old candy, in the console you’ll find a hidden burger warmer, which was not on the Mopar options list when new and is not, best we can tell, offered through Direct Connection. Other “burger-loving details” include bun-like hubcaps and a spare tire that looks like a huge cheeseburger. Hamburglar’s signature utterance, “RBL RBL,” can be found on the hood scoop and the vanity plates.

Of course, there’s a contest aspect to the whole thing, because who doesn’t love winning free burgers, especially when they’re juicier than ever and wrapped in pillowy buns? Hamburglar will be driving the Burgercuda coast to coast, and anyone who spots it can scan a code on the car to get free stuff, like a gift card (or Arch Card in McD’s parlance) and Hamburglar swag.

Although the Burgercuda is just one of 284 million cars on the road, you’ll know it when you see it. “We’re excited for fans to join in on the fun as they look for him on his burger-stealing spree,” says McDonald’s chief marketing and customer experience officer Tariq Hassan. “You never know where he’ll pop up next.” Keep your eyes peeled, folks. And do report back to us on the taste of those new burgers.

***

Check out the Hagerty Media homepage so you don’t miss a single story, or better yet, bookmark it. To get our best stories delivered right to your inbox, subscribe to our newsletters.

The post Hold the Pickles! Hamburglar’s Road-Tripping in a ’Cuda appeared first on Hagerty Media.

When the Plymouth Prowler debuted in 1997, it was, as we said in this year’s Bull Market List, “one of the strangest fun cars ever to make it to the showroom floor.” As a modern throwback to hot-rodding’s postwar heyday, however, it was just about perfect. Just about.

“It could have been great if it had just had a better powertrain, but they were so out of money by the time they reached production they had to go with off-the-shelf parts.” So says Jay Leno on this week’s episode of Jay Leno’s Garage, where the subject is, you guessed it, the Prowler.

Jay is joined by automotive stylist, hot-rodder, Hagerty YouTube host, and former Overhaulin’ star Chip Foose, who, almost as an afterthought, played a key role in the Prowler’s genesis. One day while he was a student at Art Center, a team of Chrysler designers came to the school and asked students to develop a niche-market vehicle as an exercise. Foose not only gave them what they asked for, he gave them what he believed they should have been asking for.

“When I was a student at Art Center,” Foose says, “if you were drawing hot rods or muscle cars, it was very frowned upon. They wanted you to only focus on the future of automobile design. But I was a hot rodder…”

Foose gave them a handful of proposals “based on what they wanted.” Then he did a second batch of proposals, “at home so nobody would get upset,” based on hot rods and muscle cars. Tom Gale, who was then head of design at Chrysler, was intrigued and wanted to know more. “I’m catering to customers that already exist,” Foose told him, the people out there with hot rods and muscle cars who want to be able to use them on a daily basis. “We can go back and grab from forms that were fantastic in the past and evolve them into something new.” Foose says.

And that’s essentially what happened. Gale instructed Foose to refine his sketches and develop a model, and though that model theoretically had a Hemi mounted amidships, the roadster that saw production was no less striking. It did, unfortunately, lack the Hemi. In the middle or up front. Instead, power comes from a fairly humdrum 3.5-liter V-6 making 253 hp, which is mated to an automatic transmission. Manuals were never part of the plan, sadly.

No one, it seems, was excited by that aspect of the Prowler. “You’ve designed this outside to look like a hot rod,” Foose tells Leno, “but it’s Grandma’s car. It just didn’t go together.”

Still, despite its all brakes no gas underpinnings, the Prowler was ahead of its time in other ways; namely, in the use of structural bonding, the use of previously unheard-of 20-inch wheels, and the widespread use of aluminum throughout the car, including the body panels. Body panels, we’ll say, that have aged gracefully. Even today, the Prowler still turns heads, looking no less wild in 2024 than it did in 1997. That it got built at all is a testament to the bravery of Chrysler at that time, led by the venerable Bob Lutz. “It was so unbelievable that Chrysler Corporation would build this car,” Leno says.

He’s not wrong.

***

Check out the Hagerty Media homepage so you don’t miss a single story, or better yet, bookmark it. To get our best stories delivered right to your inbox, subscribe to our newsletters.

The post Chip Foose Joins Leno to Prowl around in the Most Un-Plymouth Car of All Time appeared first on Hagerty Media.

The beautiful thing about the 25-year rule is that it just keeps on rolling right along. That foreign car you’ve always loved but could never import will come of age sooner than you know, and then, if you’ve got the funds and your hoop-jumping shoes properly laced up, you can park it in your garage.

The law has cleared a path for some truly remarkable and bonkers machinery to make its way to these shores, and overwhelmingly, those vehicles have come from Japan. Home to Skylines of all stripes, borderline WRC-spec Imprezas, luxo-barge Crowns, and the cutest little kei cars, JDM (Japanese Domestic Market) cars have always fascinated American enthusiasts of a particular bent. Our auction pick of the week, this 1997 Mitsubishi Lancer Evolution IV GSR, is one such fascinating JDM machine.

Mitsubishi first homologated its Lancer sedan for Group A rallying in 1992, and as its arms race with Subaru intensified throughout the ’90s, subsequent versions—or Evolutions, 10 in all—of the car gained more power, more sophistication, and more blistering pace.

None of them really left Japan until Mitsubishi’s motorsports arm, Ralliart, started exporting them for European markets in the late ’90s. American fans, however, could only imagine the driving experience through Gran Turismo.

The Evo IV hit the streets in 1996, with a fresh chassis and a more powerful 4G63 turbocharged 2.0-liter inline-4, now making 276 horsepower. Perhaps the biggest news was the introduction in top-spec GSR models of Mitsubishi’s Active Yaw Control (AYC), which deftly regulated torque to the left or right side of the car to cope with loss of traction in corners. It seemed pretty handy, and in 1997, Finnish driver Tommi Mäkinen put it to good use as he piloted his Evo IV to a driver’s title in the World Rally Championship, capturing 4 of the 14 rounds that season.

The right-hand-drive Evo IV GSR currently listed on Hagerty Marketplace has had its Scotia White paint professionally refinished, and the car includes all the bells and whistles—the AYC, yes, but also power windows, Recaro seats, a Nardi steering wheel, A/C, PIAA fog lights, vented disc brakes, an aftermarket HKS turbo timer package, and a stainless exhaust. Power runs through a five-speed manual transmission to all four 17-inch EVO five-spoke wheels, each shod with Bridgestone Potenza performance tires, which will need replacing. Current mileage shows 103,215 km (64,135 miles).

This car was imported to the U.S. from Japan in July 2023 and carries a clean North Carolina title. Offered through seller AutoBarn_Classic_Cars, the bidding closes Tuesday, February 20, at noon.

The post Auction Pick of the Week: 1997 Mitsubishi Lancer Evolution IV GSR appeared first on Hagerty Media.

Remember the good old days, when we just couldn’t wait for the future to get here? And what a future it was! At least, according to the short musical film Key to the Future, which was produced by General Motors for the 1956 Motorama and imagines the magical world of, uhh, 1976.

Let’s set the scene …

There they are, a darling family of four, Dad and Junior up front, Mom and Sis sweating in the back, their convertible stuck in traffic on a summer day. In unison, they all shrug their shoulders, look at each other, and then break into song:

We gotta slow down. Slooow down.
So much traffic cuts the flow down.

Take it away, Dad: Til they bring the highways up to date,
you can bet your high compression we’re gonna be late.

While we’re waiting around singing the blues
Turn on the radio for highway news.

Junior, riding shotgun, obliges, only to learn that it’s traffic, non-stop, everywhere!

“I wonder what we’d hear if I turned on the switch,” says Junior, “and we’re driving along in nineteen hundred and seventy-six.”

Dutifully, he turns the dial. Boy howdy! Just like that, it’s 1976. But not the 1976 you might recall, all groovy and shaggily carpeted and sick to death of Vietnam. In this imagined future, our family is suddenly whisking right along through the desert in the cartoonish Firebird II, arguably the most ridiculous of all the Motorama show cars.

The boy radios “the tower” for a traffic update, then asks for a route to Chicago, a mere couple thousand miles away. The friendly officer on the other end gives him two choices—the scenic route or the direct route. These folks are on vacation! Scenic route it is.

Tower man instructs them to check their fuel and engine. A central display shows that they’ve got a range of 662 miles and that the Whirlfire GT-304 gas turbine is spinning right along a cool 31,000 rpm. It’s all systems go in 1976.

“We’re all set for auto control!” says Dad. Tower man instructs them to move to the “electronic control strip in the center lane,” then to synchronize the engine. Dad tunes the speed. Dad tunes the direction.

“We’re coming in on the beam, Dad,” says the boy, as a nebulous glowing dot on the center screen gets closer to a wavering glowing line. Great futuristic high-pitch radio-tuning sounds ensue: Wee-yuuu-aaaahhh-ooo-uuu-wee. After just 30 seconds of twisting some knobs and not looking at the road, Dad has that autopilot set.

“Well done, Firebird II,” says our man in the tower. “You’re now under automatic control. Hands off steering.” Now he’s only got to give that sort of individualized attention to the other million motorists passing his way that day. Who needs automation in 1976 when there’s so much time for individual productivity!

Past the control tower they go, not another car in sight, for some reason. “Here we go in the high-speed safety lane,” Dad says, except they’re only going about 30 mph and have been this whole time. But once into that fast lane, bubble-top windows sealed tight, it’s time for a stogie. Puff away, Dad! Not for Junior; he’ll have some ice cream. Mom and Sis’ll have some delicious orange juice, thanks—all of it neatly dispensed into futuristic metal cups from the glovebox Orange Juice & Ice Cream Machine, patent pending. Curiously, no one has coughed or grimaced or vomited or said “Really, Dad?” at the prospect of being trapped in the Firebird’s fishbowl cabin with that damn cigar.

Soon they pass a single-seater Firebird I, “the original gas-turbine car,” says Junior. The whole family gawks at this relic of the past. “Runs pretty smooth for an old-timer,” Junior says.

Time marches on as they cross what is turning out to be an endless desert, only now they’re on an elevated roadway. Fancy!

Eventually the highway before them curves to the left, as highways sometimes do. They’ve hit the “east-north interchange,” according to Junior. Dad scans the road ahead. “The safe, easy way to make a turn,” he says, knowing his car will do it for him, because by 1976, as you’ll recall, turning the steering wheel 30 degrees in order to follow the road had become quite treacherous. Still, Mom and Sis give each other that knowing nod, because Dad’s right. It is both safe and easy.

They won’t make Chicago today, obviously, and from the way they all yawn simultaneously, it’s clear our family of the future is beat. Cue the refrain …

We’ve got to slow down. Slooow down.
Mr. Sun is just about to gooo down.

Once again they call on “Mr. Tower Man” to find them a place to lay their weary heads. This time, he sings too. The Sunset Inn’s a honey, he suggests, and the hostess is a dream.

And do you know why the Sunset Inn’s a honey, reader? Because their predigested food is cooked by infrared, that’s why.

Hindsight being what it is, it’s hard not to want to just pet this short promotional film on its adorable little head. In 1956, what we wanted—nay, expected—from 1976 were self-driving cars, elevated roads, glovebox ice cream, and to not have to chew our food at the end of a long day. What we got instead was the Dodge Aspen, the ink-jet printer, the Big Gulp, VHS, Ebola, a bicentennial, and no more American convertibles—ever!

What a rip-off.

***

Check out the Hagerty Media homepage so you don’t miss a single story, or better yet, bookmark it. To get our best stories delivered right to your inbox, subscribe to our newsletters.

The post GM’s 1956 Vision of the Future Was, Um, Off appeared first on Hagerty Media.

Dodge marked the end of an era when it said goodbye to its Hemi-powered Charger at the end of 2023. A new era of the brand’s performance begins on March 5, when Dodge will unveil the production version of the Charger Daytona SRT EV it debuted in 2022.

The two-door electric hatchback, which, because language is continually evolving, Dodge is labeling a muscle car, will launch with three different power levels, with plans to offer six additional power levels through its factory-backed parts hub, Direct Connection. We’re also expecting a version of the Hurricane turbo inline-six to be a part of the Charger’s lineup.

Matt McAleer, senior vice president of Dodge/SRT sales and marketing, told a crowd at the J.D. Power Auto Summit in Las Vegas that the new car will look very much like the preproduction vehicle recently teased in spy shots. “Other than the wheels and side mirrors, which are just a little too small for regulatory purposes,” he said, “this is the real thing.”

Also a real thing is the new performance EV’s Fratzonic Chambered Exhaust, which employs woofers and mid-range speakers working in conjunction with a complex series of chambers beneath the car, with a digitally rorty sound pumped out the back through dual pipes. The sound can reach 126 decibels and the aim, of course, is to make people forget they’re driving something that doesn’t make a peep. McAleer seems optimistic. “Having that vibration, that sound, truly makes a muscle car what it is,” he said. “It’s just as loud as today’s Hellcat.”

(The odd name, if you’re curious, derives from the Fratzog, which was the moniker given to the triangular badge applied to certain Dodge cars of the 1960s and ’70s, such as the Polara. A glowing version of the Fratzog now adorns the front of the Charger.)

The new Charger will also retain the R-Wing front end to enhance downforce, which Dodge claims is a nod to the look of the 1970 Charger.

“This is the next generation of muscle,” McAleer said. “We’re not going for the lowest drag coefficient. We’re not going for the highest mileage. We’re going to truly set a new bar.”

Expect to see that new bar, and the new car propping it up, sometime in early March.

***

Check out the Hagerty Media homepage so you don’t miss a single story, or better yet, bookmark it. To get our best stories delivered right to your inbox, subscribe to our newsletters.

The post Dodge Charger EV Unveiling Set for March 5 appeared first on Hagerty Media.

The Audi R8 GT RWD is the swan song for the four-ringed super sportscar. It’s a fitting finale too, because it encapsulates so much of what has made the R8 special throughout its 20 year history. Since the original concept, designed by Frank Lamberty back in 2003, the R8 has captured people’s imaginations and changed the perception of fast Audi road cars.

In this latest episode of The Driver’s Seat, Henry Catchpole takes a journey back through the Audi R8 story. He looks at the car’s outstanding attributes, which include everything from its usability to its laser lights to its predilection for oversteer. He also shines a light on some of the less well-known aspects of the R8 story.

Did you know, for example, that there was a diesel version of the R8? Or that the LMS version raced successfully for more than 24 hours? And do you know where the R8 name came from? With the help of Tom Kristensen, Henry reveals that at the end of the film.

But back to the car before us … The R8 GT RWD itself is magnificent. Its 5.2-liter, naturally aspirated V-10 puts out 611 hp and 417 lb. ft. of torque. That makes it the most powerful rear-wheel-drive R8 ever. It also has shorter gearing for its seven-speed S Tronic dual-clutch gearbox, helping it to sprint to 62 mph from rest in just 3.4 seconds. It will still hit 199 mph, too. Lighter forged alloys are also part of the package, along with a system called Torque Rear, which is a bit like McLaren’s Variable Drift Control.

All in all, the R8 GT RWD highlights just what a spectacular car we are losing. A go in an original R8 V-8 with a beautiful open-gate manual also highlights just what a bargain these cars are in the used market. Might we one day see an e-tron all-electric version of an R8? Who knows, but if this is it for the R8 name, then it’s been quite the journey.

***

Check out the Hagerty Media homepage so you don’t miss a single story, or better yet, bookmark it. To get our best stories delivered right to your inbox, subscribe to our newsletters. 

The post <em>In the Driver’s Seat:</em> Henry Catchpole on the Audi R8 GT RWD appeared first on Hagerty Media.

To paraphrase the popular refrain from Zoolander, the greatest movie ever made about male models: “That Trump is so hot right now.”

The former president and current frontrunner for the 2024 Republican nomination has a unique tendency to dominate news cycles, and that makes him a magnet for observers far and wide. Last week, in Scottsdale, Arizona, that tendency reached a frenzy on the auction block at Barrett-Jackson, when Trump’s 1997 Lamborghini Diablo VT Roadster sold without reserve for $1,100,000, including the 10 percent buyer’s premium. It is a world record for the model.

The current Hagerty #1 (Concours) value for the very best of these Italian stallions is $506,000, so a result more than double that figure is noteworthy.

Just 132 Diablo VT roadsters came to these shores between 1997 and 1999. Trump special-ordered this one in ’97 in a pretty Blu Le Mans paint over a black and cream leather interior. As a final bit of personalization, a small “Donald Trump 1997 Diablo” plaque is affixed to the door. Like all Diablos of this ilk, the car is powered by a 5.7-liter 48-valve V-12 that makes 492 hp and 430 lb-ft of torque. Power is put to the rear wheels (and sometimes the front, thanks to that viscous traction system) through a five-speed manual transmission. Trump sold the Diablo in 2002, and it’s unclear how many miles he put on the car, but between his ownership and the two owners since, the odometer shows 15,431 miles.

This isn’t the first time a car once owned by Trump has come to auction. At its 2021 Kissimmee auction, Mecum sold his 2007 Ferrari F430 F1 coupe, which had also been purchased new by the real estate magnate. That car had no such custom touches, but Trump’s touch was enough to take the selling price to $330,000, more than 2.5 times the $121,000 #1 value at the time.

The effect of celebrity (a broad term, but for these purposes, we mean general “famousness”) ownership on collector car values is nothing new, of course. Witness any number of rock star–owned vehicles that have brought bigger-than-normal money at auction: Queen rocker Freddie Mercury’s 1974 Rolls-Royce Silver Shadow, in merely #4 (Fair) condition, is a prime example. It sold in London in November 2022 for £286,250 ($340,500), though it was otherwise a $5000 car; this was a 3717 percent spike. Similarly, Princess Diana’s peppy but pedestrian 1985 Ford Escort RS Turbo, in #3 (Good) condition, sold for £722,500 ($873,000) in August 2022, when anybody else’s would have struggled to hit $30,000. And in 2015, RM/Sotheby’s sold the 400th and final Ferrari Enzo, a gift from the Italian carmaker to Pope John Paul II, for $6.05 million, against a #1 value at the time of $2 million. And he never even drove the thing!

Presidential cars—both their personal machines and the limos in which they were chauffeured—always have a certain appeal with collectors. After he left office, Harry Truman owned and drove a 1955 Chrysler New Yorker Deluxe, an elegant ride perfectly suited to a former president’s daily runabouts. That car has been for sale via Classic Auto Mall for at least 18 months now, offered first at $83,500 and now reduced to $69,000. Although the Truman premium isn’t so striking as that of Trump’s Diablo, it’s still more than double our #2 (Excellent) valuation of $30,700. And, in November 2022, the 1964 Lincoln Continental convertible driven by LBJ at his Texas ranch sold on Bring A Trailer for $172,000. The figure was nearly $100,000 over our #2 value for a similar Conti without the presidential connection.

As in real estate, one important factor associated with any car’s ability to bring maximum bucks is location, location, location. Selling a car in the wrong place, at the wrong time, can severely impact its return. “This sale shows how much difference the right venue can make,” says Brian Rabold, Vice President of Automotive Intelligence at Hagerty. “Trump cars haven’t traded at such a high premium in the past, and this one reportedly sold on eBay in 2016, before he became president, for $460,000. Barrett-Jackson’s bidders were clearly the right audience for the Trump name.”

@thestradman Crazy price for a Diablo VT Roadster #Lamborghini ♬ original sound – TheStradman

Clearly. Video from the sale captures the electricity in the room as the car was quickly bid up past its average sale price and into record territory until it was SOLD! SOLD! SOLD! to raucous applause. Whether the buyer will ever be able to recoup the investment—or even make some profit—is anyone’s guess, but with the Trump name forever linked to this Blu Le Mans Diablo, we wouldn’t be surprised at any trajectory this car takes in the future.

The post Celebrity “Trumps” Reason in Ex-President’s World-Record Diablo VT Sale appeared first on Hagerty Media.

In an effort to curtail road deaths in his state, California Senator Scott Wiener (D–San Francisco) introduced a pair of bills, SB 960 and 961, last week. The bills are part of the Speeding and Fatality Emergency Reduction on California Streets (SAFER California Streets) package. SB 960 would require the state’s transportation department, Caltrans, to upgrade infrastructure to better accommodate pedestrians, cyclists, disabled citizens, and transit users. Those changes include new crosswalks and curb extensions, but SB 961 would mandate a manufacturer-installed speed limiter on all new cars beginning with the 2027 model year.

The bill also mandates underride guards on trucks to prevent the risk of cars and bikes getting caught beneath them in a crash.

The speed governor would arrive in the form of smart devices that could automatically cap a vehicle’s speed to just 10 miles above the posted legal limit. The bill would exempt emergency vehicles and would also allow the Commissioner of the California Highway Patrol to authorize the system to be disabled on other vehicles based on specified, as yet undisclosed criteria.

The impetus for the pair of bills, says Senator Wiener, is the rise in traffic fatalities in the state. “The alarming surge in road deaths is unbearable and demands an urgent response. There is no reason for anyone to be going over 100 miles per hour on a public road, yet in 2020, California Highway Patrol issued over 3000 tickets for just that offense. Preventing reckless speeding is a commonsense approach to prevent these utterly needless and heartbreaking crashes.”

According to a recent report from TRIP, a national transportation research nonprofit, between 2019 and 2022, California traffic deaths increased by 22 percent. Nationwide, the figure was 19 percent. The report adds that 4400 people died in car accidents in California in 2022.

Speed governors are nothing new. Many semi-trucks and fleet vehicles come equipped with them. Many new private vehicles, too, including new Volvos (112 mph), already have speed limiters on them. More often than not, these kick in at triple-digit velocities that most motorists rarely, if ever, approach.

The technology proposed uses GPS to verify local speed limits and prevent cars from going 10 miles per hour over that threshold. Among a number of unanswered questions, it’s unclear from the language of the bill how this would impact cars used, for example, as daily drivers during the week and then for track days on the weekend. Such questions and use cases will require consideration as the SAFER California Streets package moves through the legislative system.

***

 
Check out the Hagerty Media homepage so you don’t miss a single story, or better yet, bookmark it. To get our best stories delivered right to your inbox, subscribe to our newsletters.

The post California Bill Threatens to Impose Speed Governor on New Cars appeared first on Hagerty Media.

Unless you’re descended from one of the Dodge Brothers, or from Abraham Lincoln, or your parents named you “Tiguan,” then there probably isn’t a car out there with your name on it. My name is Cedric, and I’m one of the lucky ones.

From 1960 to 2015, the upscale Nissan Cedric was sold in the Japanese domestic market as a sedan, a wagon, a van, and a commercial taxi. For one year only, 1964, Nissan exported around a hundred left-hand-drive variants to the U.S. and Canada, but sales were apparently a disaster, and the experiment came to a swift end. Conveniently, I happen to own one of those rare 1964 sedans.

For 43 years, I was a professor of Biomedical Engineering at Tulane University in New Orleans. I retired in early 2020, just as the pandemic was raging, so there was no opportunity for a party or event to commemorate my career at the university. But that summer, one of my former students, Jim Dillard, happened to see a worn but complete, U.S.-market 1964 Nissan Cedric in the RM Sotheby’s catalog for the 2020 Fall Auburn auction. After sharing his plan (secretly) with my wife, Julia, he bought the Cedric for $2750 with an eye toward getting it restored and presenting it to his favorite college professor as a retirement gift, once gatherings were allowed.

Dillard is a well-known collector; he won best in class at the 2020 Amelia Island Concours for his meticulously restored 1958 Ducati 125. He shipped the Cedric to Custom Classics Automobiles in Island Lake, Illinois, where owner Bryan Reehoff and his great team brought it back to as-new condition in a year-long process.

In November 2021, during Tulane’s homecoming weekend, I was on campus for another event when I was lured to an outdoor party where the car was under wraps and many of my colleagues and former students were gathered for the presentation by Dillard. A Tulane news release called it “the gift of a lifetime” and even quoted me after the event: “Every time I sit in the car, I’m reminded of how a professor is so privileged to be able to form lasting connections and friendships with former students like Jim Dillard.”

Cedric (the car) has its original 1900-cc four-cylinder engine, a two-barrel carburetor, and a three-on-the-tree shifter. This export version has a speedometer and odometer calibrated in miles. The name badges on the body all identify it as a Nissan though the VIN plate in the engine compartment says it’s a Datsun. Interestingly, all of the fasteners are SAE-spec rather than metric, because the tooling for production came from Austin in England. The color is not original but is now a beautiful custom tint chosen by Custom Classics.

I enjoy bringing my namesake Nissan to local cars and coffee shows, where it attracts a lot of attention. The car drives easily in traffic and has plenty of pickup on the highway. I’ve been a car guy all of my life, and I still own the 1961 Corvair I used in my driving test the day after my 16th birthday. This Cedric is a testament to 1960s style and engineering, but it is also a lasting tribute to a special friendship between a student and his mentor. I couldn’t have received a more thoughtful gift.

***

Check out the Hagerty Media homepage so you don’t miss a single story, or better yet, bookmark it. To get our best stories delivered right to your inbox, subscribe to our newsletters.

The post This Nissan Cedric Is Nominative Determinism on Wheels appeared first on Hagerty Media.

American electric vehicle manufacturer Canoo has just announced a trial partnership with the United States Postal Service. In a press release issued this week, the California company with a production facility in Texas said the USPS will purchase six right-hand-drive versions of the company’s battery-electric Lifestyle Delivery Vehicle 190 in Q1 of this year. The LDV 190 is a commercial version of Canoo’s Lifestyle Vehicle, which is propelled by a single electric motor, with power from a 79-kWh battery offering a range of 200 miles.

The news comes on the heels of the USPS’s own statement announcing a $40 billion investment strategy to upgrade the delivery infrastructure of America’s largest and oldest federal fleet. The investment includes nearly $10 billion toward the purchase of 9250 left-hand-drive, battery-electric Ford E-Transit vans, as well as the installation of 14,000 EV charging stations at postal service facilities throughout the country. The federal organization plans for 75 percent of its fleet to be electric by 2027, with all new vehicle purchases after 2026 to be EV-only.

In the meantime, the USPS is rolling out the immediate replacement for its ancient Grumman LLVs, which have been in service since 1994. Their original planned service life was just 24 years. These Next Generation Delivery Vehicles (NGDV) are built by Oshkosh Defense and look weird as heck.

“We are moving forward with our plans to simultaneously improve our service, reduce our cost, grow our revenue, and improve the working environment for our employees,” said Louis DeJoy, Postmaster General. “Electrification of our vehicle fleet is now an important component of these initiatives.”

This isn’t the first time the USPS has explored the use of EVs in its fleet. In fact, the first use of the technology in this context, by Buffalo, New York, City Delivery Service superintendent John Lieb, took place July 2, 1899, as a test bed for planned delivery during Buffalo’s 1901 Pan American Exposition. In the ensuing 125 years, the USPS has employed more than a dozen different EVs in limited capacity. Most recently, in 1995, it deployed 36 Grumman-based ELLVs (Electric Long-Life Vehicles) with lead-acid batteries in eight cities.

“Neither snow nor rain nor heat nor gloom of night stays these couriers from the swift completion of their appointed rounds.” That creed, however unofficial it may be, has now been associated with the United States Postal Service for more than a century. As the new generation of EV delivery vehicles hits the streets, we’ll see if the slogan, too, needs an update. Perhaps something snappy, like… “nor ancient power grids…”

The post USPS Going Electric, Again: EV Canoo and E-Transits Too appeared first on Hagerty Media.

With enough money and time, it’s possible to fix almost any car, no matter how rare or valuable. Break a tiny piece of unobtanium plastic trim, and there’s probably someone out there who can 3D-print a new one for you. And if you stick your McLaren F1 into a ditch, then McLaren itself will be only too happy to build you a new carbon-fiber tub.

Even so, repairing the old fiberglass body of a classic race car can involve a lot of trial and error. Unless, that is, you have the original molds—and if you have a Lola in your collection, then you may well want to keep an eye on this upcoming W&H Peacock auction in the U.K.

The collection of molds and fiberglass tools covers several race-car bodies constructed by Lola from the 1960s to the 1980s, including the Lola Mk1, Lola T70 Mk2, the Lola T70 Mk3 and Mk3 B, and a selection of other single- and twin-seat bodies.

The molds are used to standardize the manufacture of the fiberglass panels used on the cars, ensuring each one is as close as possible to the last. More importantly, the fact that they survive means that skilled modern hands can, in theory, create a body as good as identical to the original models from the 1960s.

As well as the molds, which cover everything from panels and smaller components to nose cones, the auction listing includes plenty of other related tools and equipment from T W Mouldings (TWM), the British fiberglass specialist pending liquidation.

TWM has owned the molds since 1990, when it purchased them from Lola’s founder, Eric Broadley. Lola itself officially ceased trading in 2012, and the company’s assets and its name were snapped up by various other firms. A company called Broadley Automotive, meanwhile, currently builds authentic replicas of the original Lolas, including the T70, T76, and the Can-AM T160.

The collection of molds and tools will be sold through a timed online auction taking place on February 7. No estimates are listed, but each lot will be subject to both a 20.5 percent buyer’s fee, and a value-added tax (VAT).

***

Check out the Hagerty Media homepage so you don’t miss a single story, or better yet, bookmark it. To get our best stories delivered right to your inbox, subscribe to our newsletters.

The post Cache of Rare Lola Race Car Molds Hits Auction Block appeared first on Hagerty Media.

One of the best parts of keeping tabs on old cars for a living is the immense variety of weird stuff you encounter: Dymaxions, Isettas, Amphicars, Cybertrucks, Olds Jetway 707s, just about every Citroën ever. In addition to hosting the usual gaggle of Detroit muscle or red cars from Italy, collector car auctions are often excellent repositories for the wild and wonderful of the automotive world, and Artcurial’s upcoming Rétromobile sale in Paris does not disappoint.

This 1967 Maserati Quattroporte fire truck, s/n AM1071452, is on the roster for next week’s auction in the French capital, with a presale estimate of €150,000–€250,000 ($164,000–$274,000).

The car left the factory in July ’67 as a regular old Quattroporte, a four-door luxury sedan finished in Argento Auteuil (silver) with Girling disc brakes, a 4.2-liter 260-hp V-8 up front, and a black leather interior. An accident ended its days of executive transportation, and in 1972, Italian fire suppression company CEA Estintori purchased the car along with four others (AM1071296, 2184, 2210, and 2290), then brought them to Carrozzeria Grazia in Bologna for transformation into “the world’s fastest fire tenders.” They were used throughout the ’70s as emergency vehicles at Italian race tracks, including Monza, Imola, and Varano.

We’ve written plenty here in the past on the great Italian coachbuilders of that era—Pininfarina, Zagato, Touring, Bertone, Frua—but nary a word on Grazia, likely because their specialty was promotional vehicles, emergency vehicles, and hearses, and we’ve just never gotten around to that big feature on the Grazia-bodied Ebano shoe-mobile …

For CEA, Grazia worked its magic by transforming this and the other Masers into pickup trucks by removing the rear doors (Dueporte?) and converting the entire space behind the front seats into a platform, upon which fire suppression equipment—a big red water tank, a pump, a water cannon, various hose reels, maybe a dalmatian—was mounted. The auction catalog notes that the internal compartment, with its sporty ZF five-speed manual transmission, “was closed behind both front seats and benefited from the luxury specific to the Quattroporte, including air conditioning.”

The catalog further states that the cars earned great publicity for CEA, “and until the end of the 1970s, they were used as guardian angels on the greatest Italian circuits.” There seems to be a great deal of misinformation out there about them (like that dalmatian bit above…), but the Quattroporte registry site Tipo107.com notes that this car and its fire truck friends changed hands a few times in the late 1980s.

This one was then offered for sale by Swiss dealer Christoph Grohe in the early 2000s. In 2011, a German collector purchased it from a dealer in Marseille and began an extensive restoration to return the car to original specs (of its firefighting life, not its stately sedan life), with paint and interior work done at the old Maserati factory in Modena, just before the company moved to Turin. The work was completed in 2017, and in December 2018 it was listed for sale—but never changed hands—at $442,500. In that regard, Artcurial’s estimate of $164,000–$274,000 kind of makes the car seem like a bargain.

“It’s hard to think of a better trackside accessory for vintage racing than this thing,” says Hagerty senior auction editor Andrew Newton. “Even better that it’s a Maserati, which wears the trident of a water god on its nose.”

Quattroportes of this era are rare in any configuration or condition with just 763 built, so these fire trucks are on a different level of rarity. But for the Maserati fan who has everything, or the fire apparatus enthusiast who’s looking to downsize, or indeed the vintage racer who takes fire safety to the next level, this rare, fast, meticulously restored Quattroporte might be just the thing.

***

Check out the Hagerty Media homepage so you don’t miss a single story, or better yet, bookmark it. To get our best stories delivered right to your inbox, subscribe to our newsletters.

The post As Track-Day Kit Goes, a Maserati Fire Truck Is Hard to Beat appeared first on Hagerty Media.

Judge Joseph Cassini III, a fixture of the collector car hobby, who was always happy to share with those around him his enthusiasm for the cars he loved, has died. He was 73 years old.

Cassini was enthusiastic, too, for the Fighting Irish of Notre Dame. He was a three-time graduate of the university, earning his BA in 1972, before receiving an MBA and Juris Doctorate in 1976. In 2012, he and his wife, Margie, established an endowment to support loan repayment assistance for graduates of the Notre Dame Law School.

He had a life-long passion for cars and purchased his first classic, a 1956 Ford Thunderbird he saw while on a road trip across the country, shortly after earning his JD. That was the spark, and for the next several years he collected cars of the 1950s and ’60s.

In the early 1990s, he attended his first Classic Car Club of America event and was introduced to prewar cars from Auburn, Cord, Packard, and Stutz. He was hooked. Soon, he shifted his energies into collecting and preserving such grand old machines.

Judge Cassini served on the bench in New Jersey for 33 years, including 20 years in the state’s Superior Court. He presided over many noteworthy cases, but he always viewed cars as an escape from the rigors of the job.

The time and effort he put into collecting and restoring classic cars were reflected in his near-constant participation at concours around the country, including the Hilton Head Concours d’Elegance, the former Meadow Brook Concours, and The Amelia, where he was a 16-time entrant. He also founded the Edison Concours d’Elegance, held at the home of Thomas A. Edison in West Orange, New Jersey.

His best—and most frequent—showings, however, came at the Pebble Beach Concours d’Elegance, where he was a 24-time participant. But for 2011 and the canceled 2020 show, he brought a car to the Monterey Peninsula every year from 1997 through 2022.

He and his cars won there, too, including 11 First in Class awards and two Best of Show honors: in 2004 with a 1938 Horch 853A Erdmann & Rossi Sport Cabriolet and in 2013 with his 1934 Packard 1108 Twelve Dietrich Convertible Victoria. Two other times his cars were Best of Show nominees.

“Judge Joe helped bring class and a high standard to concours as a participant and ambassador of the car hobby,” said Matt Orendac, concours event director for Hagerty and a longtime friend of Cassini. “His passion was for great cars, his family, and Notre Dame football. His enthusiasm was infectious, and the Edison Concours he created years ago, which I had the honor to work with him on, was an absolute joy. He will be missed by many and celebrated for his great cars, the wonderful person he was, and the incredible mark he left on the hobby.”

Joseph Cassini is survived by his wife, Margie, their daughter, Caroline, and her husband, Jakob Greisen.

***

Check out the Hagerty Media homepage so you don’t miss a single story, or better yet, bookmark it. To get our best stories delivered right to your inbox, subscribe to our newsletters.

The post Remembering Judge Joseph Cassini III, 1950–2024 appeared first on Hagerty Media.

Having children doesn’t mean being forever shackled to the steering wheel of a blobbish crossover. Yes, modern cars are undeniably safer than old ones, but a unique automobile has other merits; it can turn even the most mundane errand into a cherished family adventure. In fact, a classic car actually helps create stronger family memories.

As a child, Michael Gideon vividly remembers riding on the vinyl bench seat in his dad’s 1967 Camaro SS. Now, he’s sharing his enthusiasm with his daughter Camila. He swapped out the stock seats in his 1988 Porsche 911 Carrera for a set of Sparco Evo II fixed-backs, which perfectly fit her car seat. “She loves it, but I love it too,” he says. “She’s right next to me; it’s like having my little best friend along for the ride.”

Fellow Porsche enthusiast Neal Lett drives his 4-year-old daughter Lennon to school in his ’67 Porsche 912 equipped with a car seat in front. “She’s slowly learning the fundamentals of a manual transmission. She knows when to shift and what gear number we need to be in,” Neal says. “We get a lot of reactions on the road. Lots of waves, smiles, and thumbs up. We have had many moms roll their windows down and say, that’s the cutest thing I have ever seen.”

These are cars with history, cars with distinct sounds, smells, and vibrations. Every detail adds to the experience: the texture of chrome trim, lightly pitted from decades of adventures; the faint smell of fuel, of oil; the roar of a carbureted engine reverberating through a cabin devoid of sound deadening.

Lane Friedman and her husband Cooper are no strangers to classics, so it’s fitting that when their son Otis was born, they took him right to a Los Angeles car meet in their 1971 BMW 2002. “It was one of his first outings since leaving the hospital! A wave of nostalgia came over me in that car together as a family. We always joke that our son will have his fair share of cars to choose from when he sneaks out one day,” says Lane.

“He talks about the smell of it. He’ll get in and say, ‘Oh, it’s that smell!” says Steve Lowtwait, who regularly takes his son Brody on trips in his Silver Green 1979 Mercedes 300 SD, which has proven especially practical. “We take it to dinner; we’ve taken it snowboarding and fit two boards in the trunk,” says Steve. “The simpler technology, the build quality, the style, the heritage … I like to share that passion with my family.”

Turns out it isn’t just the romance of vintage materials and analog technology that makes the experience special, however. It’s science. Scent is processed by the brain’s olfactory bulb, which has a direct connection to the limbic system—the region in the brain where we process emotion and memory.

In her TEDx talk, olfactive expert Dawn Goldworm says, “When you smell an odor, you automatically link an emotion to it, and the scent and the emotion remain forever linked together, floating in our olfactive memory…. This is why some of our most powerful memories are linked to smell.” Her company, 12.29, integrates scent into brand identity and works with clients like Cadillac. So yes, that sweating gasket, rich carb, and 50-year-old interior are actually imprinting vivid family memories.

Modern cars are designed to be free of stimuli. Smooth, quiet, inoffensive transportation pods complete with multi-zone climate control, active noise cancellation, and brake-by-wire. When we interact with a vintage automobile, however, we are flooded with stimuli—electrical impulses firing through deep synapses that will become indelible memories. Decades later, we can recall them with striking detail.

As parents, we know that the time we get to spend with our children is fleeting. Our kids will move from the car seat to the driver’s seat faster than a modded hot hatch, all while the world passes by through the windows. The memories we create with them, inside a few thousand pounds of rumbling steel and glass, are precious. Our classics do far more than transport us from point A to B, so while the DMV may classify them as automobiles, we know full well that they are, in fact, multi-generational time machines.

The post In the Family Classic, Senses Seed Memories appeared first on Hagerty Media.

If we were to ask Mr. Peabody to set the dial on his Wavelength Acceleration Bidirectional Asynchronous Controller, or WABAC Machine, to January 17, 1949, we’d bear witness to a most curious sight. What’s that rolling off the enormous ship docked in New York, Mr. Peabody?

Why, it’s a Volkswagen Type 1, Sherman! In fact, there’s a pair of them!

Thanks to the marvel of cartoon time travel, Hagerty can indeed confirm that on this day, exactly 75 years ago, the first two Beetles spun their wheels on American soil. Accompanying them was Ben Pon, the Dutch car dealer (and father of the Type 2 Microbus) who two years earlier had introduced VW to the Netherlands, the marque’s first export market.

Heb ik een deal voor je! Pon probably said to a small crowd of onlookers that wintry New York day, who were as confused by his Dutch as they were by the weird little car before them. He did indeed have a deal for us, but he had little luck finding a partner to import and sell the cars here, so we didn’t take him up on it.

It’s unclear where those two Beetles ended up, in fact, but the following year, New Yorker Max Hoffman took the idea and ran with it, adding Beetles to the growing roster of European cars he would become famous for peddling to American drivers. To provide parts and support to the exploding U.S. market, Volkswagen of America was set up in 1955, and by 1960, more than half a million Beetles were traveling our roads and parking themselves in American culture.

To commemorate the occasion of their arrival on these shores, Volkswagen has launched a year-long campaign to spotlight “the people, products, and places that have defined one of America’s best-known brands,” to include a commercial during Super Bowl LVIII, which will be played between two teams that are not the Dallas Cowboys.

“Over the past 75 years, Volkswagen has grown from a tale of two Beetles into a part of America’s cultural fabric,” said Rachael Zaluzec, Senior Vice President of Customer Experience & Brand Marketing for Volkswagen of America. “We carry people in our name and our heart. As we look forward to the next 75, we will celebrate the real people and real-life moments that have made Volkswagen brand the people’s love story it is today.”

Hagerty is eager to see how the next 75 years have gone for VW, but as yet Mr. Peabody hasn’t quite worked out the kinks in his WAFORWARD Machine, so details are still unclear.

***

Check out the Hagerty Media homepage so you don’t miss a single story, or better yet, bookmark it. To get our best stories delivered right to your inbox, subscribe to our newsletters.

The post The Volkswagen Beetle Came to America 75 Years Ago Today appeared first on Hagerty Media.

The annual Consumer Electronics Show, or CES, kicks off January 9 in Las Vegas, and the big auto news to ooze out of it is Volkswagen’s announcement that it will start integrating OpenAI’s ChatGPT into select vehicles starting in the second quarter of this year. The chatbot will talk its way into cars built on VW’s MEB and MQB platforms equipped with the IDA voice assistant: the ID.3, ID.4, ID.5, and ID.7, as well as the new Tiguan, Passat, and Golf. Volkswagen will be the first volume manufacturer to offer the emerging technology as standard equipment.

The system was developed by VW’s tech partner, the automotive AI firm Cerence, and should enable IDA to control the infotainment, navigation, and HVAC systems. It will also answer general knowledge questions, if and when they arise. “In the future,” says Volkswagen, “AI will provide additional information in response to questions that go beyond this as part of its continuously expanding capabilities. This can be helpful on many levels during a car journey: Enriching conversations, clearing up questions, interacting in intuitive language, receiving vehicle-specific information, and much more—purely hands-free.” That last bit is crucial, as we’ve all seen how AI renders hands.

VW claims the integration will be seamless, and users will not need to create an account or install any apps to access its functionality. Further, we are assured that personal data is protected and that ChatGPT does not gain access to vehicle information. Whew. To engage IDA, users simply say “Hello IDA,” or they can press a button on the steering wheel. That last part might actually be the best bit of news for VW fans—the return of actual buttons, rather than touch panels, to steering wheels. Turns out drivers still enjoy a bit of tactility, even if the most tactile experience of all—rowing your gears—will be unceremoniously stripped from the GTI after 2024.

Without the pesky time-suck of shifting gears to worry about, that frees up drivers to have what we can only hope will be deep and meaningful conversations with their cars.

***

Check out the Hagerty Media homepage so you don’t miss a single story, or better yet, bookmark it. To get our best stories delivered right to your inbox, subscribe to our newsletters.

The post VW announces ChatGPT integration in select cars starting Q2 appeared first on Hagerty Media.

The Porsche 968 hit the streets in 1992, the lovely final installment of an experiment Porsche began in 1976 with the 924. The water-cooled, four-cylinder, front-engine, rear-transaxle recipe shared by the two siblings, along with that of the 944 middle child, served as the foundation of an immensely satisfying family of well-built performance cars designed as affordable entry into the Stuttgart realm.

More than 150,000 924s of all variants rolled out of Audi’s Neckarsulm factory between 1976 and 1987, a staggering figure by exotic (or perhaps more appropriately, “exotic”) standards, and one handily topped by the 170,000-plus 944s built there from 1982 to 1991. By the time Zuffenhausen production of the 968 began, however, the writing was on the wall for Porsche’s front-engine efforts; the mid-engine 986 Boxster was already in development as the entry-level Porsche and would replace both the 968 and the aged, slow-selling 928 in one fell swoop. As a result, Porsche built just 12,780 examples of the 968 during its short run, from 1992 to ’95.

But what a car it was. Though it retained the profile and many parts of its predecessor (Brembo brakes and the 944 Turbo’s suspension among them), the 968 was much more than a warmed-over 944. In the new car, chief designer Harm Lagaay had managed to unify the look of Porsche’s entire lineup, with the 968, 928, and the type 993 911 all sharing front-end styling cues first seen on the 959. With a 50/50 weight distribution, handling was near-perfect, while underhood, the 968’s big 3.0-liter four pioneered Porsche’s VarioCam variable valve timing, with 236 horsepower on tap at 6200 rpm and 225 pound-feet of torque available at 4100 rpm. A six-speed manual was standard, with the trick Tiptronic automatic a $3000 option.

A quick search of Craigslist or Facebook Marketplace in just about any part of the country will usually yield at least a few results for 924s and 944s, in conditions ranging from cheapo stomach-turners to spendy eye-catchers. But 968s in any condition are far harder to come by. Lucky for us, this 1994 968 coupe, in pretty Aventurine Green Metallic over Cashmere leather, sold this week on Bring A Trailer for $32,000.

The California seller purchased the car in Ontario, Canada, in 2014, before which it had spent its days in Ohio and New York, where, based on the rust-free condition of the undercarriage, it never saw a salty road.

The car shows 84,000 miles, with 28,000 of them coming since the seller purchased it. (An odometer discrepancy in the Carfax was quickly addressed by the seller in the comments: The odo broke, he had it fixed a month later and reckons he maybe put 500 miles on the car during that period). Beyond that, there are some visible flaws, though none of them serious, and Hagerty would categorize this 968 as being in #3 (Good) condition. Among those warts is a tiny dent in the left fender, inoperable cruise control, and a worn driver’s seat. The left pop-up headlight alignment is off, which has caused the bucket to rub on deployment, marring its paint. Minor, minor stuff.

All the things you’d hate to have to do on a new-to-you 968, however, have been done. The seller kept up on maintenance during his ownership and in the last four years had the following work performed, with receipts: bushings, tie rods, and front brake components replaced, as well as the timing belt, water pump, clutch, flywheel, rear main seal, valve cover gasket, thermostat, battery, radiator fans, and steering rack. This transaxle Porsche is primed for driving, in other words.

Bidding opened the day after Christmas, at $9680. The winning bidder got into the game at $15,000 and signaled their intent with $3000 counters until they had the car. “I’ve wanted a 968 since they came out in high school,” they wrote in the comments at the auction’s close. “I can’t wait to drive this beauty!” The car will share space with 10 Saabs, a Boxster S, and an Alfa Spider. “I definitely went higher for this than I would have for another color combo.”

It is a fetching combination, less common than, say, red over black, though not especially rare in the world of Porsche colors. More importantly, this 968 is a fetching car. There’s a reason Hagerty valuation analysts picked the 968 as a car on the rise for our 2022 Bull Market List. “968s began appreciating in 2015,” we wrote at the time. “Since 2016, #2 values are up 139 percent for coupes—the fastest appreciation for all Porsche coupes. We think there’s still room for growth.”

Currently, we value 968s in #3 condition at around $33,000, so this sale was on the money. As time goes by and regular use chips away at remaining examples, however, it’s safe to assume that figure will climb. That’s likely immaterial to the new owner, however. What does matter is that they have just paid a fair price to secure one of the finest driver’s cars Porsche ever produced, in the kind of condition you’d want to have it. The buyer should be over the moon, and the seller, who quite likely tripled his initial investment from 2014, should have no complaints.

The post Was this a good buy for a nearly forgotten Porsche? appeared first on Hagerty Media.

Director Michael Mann’s new film, Ferrari, opened in theaters yesterday, and the world of prancing horses is abuzz. Now, there’s more Ferrari magic to add to the chatter.

Last year, Hagerty reported the story of Ferrari Enzo owner Utahan Richard Losee, who has put more than 100,000 miles on his rare supercar—65,000 of which have been added since a 30-month total rebuild following a 200-mph crash back in 2006. Though Losee was injured in the accident, he recovered fully and has since gone on to set a world land speed record for the marque by clocking 237.7 mph in his Enzo on the Bonneville Salt Flats.

These days, Losee uses the Enzo as a smile-maker, with his close friend Clarence Habovstak most often at the wheel. When he’s not using the car as his daily driver, Habovstak is using it to bring joy to Make-A-Wish kids. “It just represents so much more than what people may perceive as a pretentious object,” Habovstak said in our story. “I had a young man who was struggling through high school and he had some serious health issues. He joined me for a ride, and we literally did a 500-mile road trip just to go get root beer floats and chat. It’s not just about putting miles on the car for the sake of tallying up the most miles we can on a Ferrari. We want each mile to mean something.”

Losee’s efforts with the Enzo have meant so much to so many, in fact, that he commissioned a statue to memorialize it. The 7-by-8-foot bronze statue, The War Horse—Rising from its Ashes, by artist Stanley Wanlass, was unveiled November 18 at Ferrari of Salt Lake City and then placed permanently outside the Cirque Lodge addiction treatment facility in Orem, Utah, which Losee owns.

The piece depicts Losee’s Enzo mid-air, flying on the wings of a Pegasus, with the car’s destruction visible from behind while the front end emerges anew. The transition from ruin to rebirth, this triumph of the human spirit over adversity, is a fitting tribute not only to the car itself but to the many patients seeking treatment at Cirque Lodge.

***

Check out the Hagerty Media homepage so you don’t miss a single story, or better yet, bookmark it. To get our best stories delivered right to your inbox, subscribe to our newsletters.

The post New sculpture captures the terrible beauty of a Ferrari Enzo crash appeared first on Hagerty Media.

This is the unlikely success story of the Mazda MX-5 Miata—the world’s bestselling two-seat roadster and the only remaining true lightweight sports car. Mazda, of course, made its name in the 1970s with small rotary-powered runabouts and then the RX-7 sports car. Had the company listened to the experts, however, the Miata never would have happened. And if Mazda had listened to its own customers, it never would have succeeded.

Instead, the Mazda Miata has succeeded where every other lightweight sports car has failed, by decidedly not giving the customer what they want. No more weight, no extra complexity, no excessive speed, no ultra luxury.

On this episode of Revelations, Jason Cammisa welcomes special guest Tom Matano, the father of the Miata, to tell the story of how the simple Japanese roadster has survived economic downturns and done the impossible. In the process, it has proven every other carmaker wrong. Because it turns out that cars can indeed be light, simple, and fun, even while meeting modern emissions and safety regulations.

And yet, somehow it almost never happened. Battles between Mazda HQ in Japan and the company’s North American office, which conceived the Lotus Elan–like roadster, almost resulted in a front-wheel-drive, or even a mid-engined, car. All of which led the original team with Matano and Bob Hall to ask for the project to be killed off. To just forget the whole thing.

Thankfully, Mazda didn’t do that. And 35 years later, the Miata reigns King of Sports Cars, selling the same amount of cars in the U.S. every year as Porsche sells 911s—despite the 911’s incredibly broad product offering.

***

Check out the Hagerty Media homepage so you don’t miss a single story, or better yet, bookmark it. To get our best stories delivered right to your inbox, subscribe to our newsletters.

The post The Mazda Miata Had No Chance of Success | <em>Revelations—</em>Ep. 33 appeared first on Hagerty Media.

From 1963 through 1967, Chevrolet built 117,966 of its second-generation, or C2, Corvettes. And while they all look like a million bucks, the vast majority have always been generally accessible to mere mortals. Some, however, either because of the way they were spec’d from the factory or because of owned them, have always remained out of touch.

The 20 race-ready 1967 L88 Corvettes, for example, are a prime example of such stratospheric positioning, with their 427/430 engines and suite of heavy-duty go-fast bits. They consistently populate “most expensive Corvette” lists, and indeed the most expensive Corvette ever sold at auction was a ’67 L88 coupe, at Barrett-Jackson in 2014, for $3.85 million.

As for the Corvettes that bring big money because of their ownership history, welp, the two listed here are hard to beat, and both are on the docket for Mecum’s 25th annual sale in Kissimmee, Florida, January 2–14, 2024.

1963 Harley Earl Styling Car

Outside of Zora Arkus-Duntov, no one was more influential in bringing the Corvette to life than Harley J. Earl, who served as head of the Art and Color Section (later renamed the Styling Section) at General Motors from 1927 until his retirement in 1958. Well-known in the Corvette world, including within the hallowed halls of Bloomington Gold, this car was gifted to Earl as a retirement present, and he drove it regularly around Palm Beach, Florida, in his golden years, even lapping the Daytona Speedway in it in 1965 when he served as Grand Marshal of that year’s 500.

The car is finished in metallic blue paintwork (not offered in ’63) with a white stripe starting at the “stinger” and running the length of the car. It is complemented by a matching blue-and-white leather interior. And though Earl’s Corvette is fitted with a rather tame 327/300 V-8 and four-speed manual, this unique car sports dual-circuit four-wheel disc brakes (not offered until ’65) as well as a passenger-side gauge cluster with accelerometer, altimeter, and two thermometers. The most notable custom touch, however, are the pair of fantastic four-branch polished stainless steel sidepipes, which were never offered on production Corvettes.

This car is not new to market. It sold at Barrett-Jackson in 1999 for $152,300, and then also 11 years later, at Mecum Indy, for $980,500. In 2013, it sold again, this time for $1.65 million, at a Mecum auction in Chicago. Then it failed to sell for a high bid of $1.7 million in Kissimmee in 2019, when it was paired with another famous blue C2 styling Corvette once belonging to another famous GM designer…

1964 Bill Mitchell Styling Car

Bill Mitchell was hired on at Art and Color by Harley Earl in 1936, and when the latter retired in 1958, Mitchell succeeded him as head honcho of GM design. As such, it was Mitchell who breathed life into the 1963 Corvette (through the pencil of Larry Shinoda). Mitchell had a 1964 Corvette constructed to his liking, which he then drove as his personal car.

Though less flashy than Earl’s simply for its lack of sidepipes, the Mitchell Corvette does not lack for custom touches. Outside, the car is finished in special Bright Blue Metallic paint, with unique chrome knock-off wire wheels and an egg-crate grille, while the doors lack wing windows. The side vents are chromed, and the rear end features six taillights rather than the standard four. Inside, the entire interior—seats, dash, glovebox door, door cards—is clad in blue leather.

Underhood is a 327/365 V-8 putting power to the rear wheels through a three-speed Turbo Hydramatic 400, which didn’t make its way into production Corvettes until the 1969 model year.

The upcoming Kissimmee auction presents a great opportunity for Corvette collectors looking for something different. There will be dozens, if not hundreds, of Vettes among the 4000 cars consigned, but these two styling cars, with their impeccable ownership histories and their special connection to two greats of GM design, could anchor just about any collection of Corvettes, or American cars, or sports car, or one-off cars.

The Earl Corvette is estimated at $750,000–$1,000,000, the Mitchell Corvette at $500,000–$600,000. If you had the means to bring one home, which would it be?

***

Check out the Hagerty Media homepage so you don’t miss a single story, or better yet, bookmark it. To get our best stories delivered right to your inbox, subscribe to our newsletters.

The post Designer Digs: Rare pair of C2 “styling” Corvettes going up for grabs appeared first on Hagerty Media.

We’re always on the lookout for novel automotive products that don’t really need to exist but do anyway. Curb feelers, whistle tips, truck nutz, backup cameras, power sliding doors, subscription-based options, that sort of thing. Now, for just $60,000, you can pre-order the new Ceres 001 Founders Edition, an advanced storage solution for your car from Cartainers. Named for the Roman goddess of grain and agriculture, or the world’s largest asteroid, depending on whom you ask, the 5000-pound Ceres 001 features a 20-foot-long high-grade steel chassis that frames 10-mm polycarbonate doors and windows said to be transparent, UV resistant, shatter-proof, and heat resistant.

Like a shipping container but different, the Ceres 001 is billed as an all-in-one solution for storing, displaying, and transporting a vehicle. The 001 includes E-tracks with wheel straps and an app-based smart control system fitted with sensors for “real-time monitoring of cargo conditions, location, and all pertinent security information.” The box sports a fully motorized sliding door, low-profile ramp door, security cameras, and facial recognition, while environmental sensors monitor internal climate such as temperature, humidity, and CO2 levels. A ventilation system circulates air to prevent mold and mildew. The Ceres 001, Cartainers says, is suitable for global transport by plane, ship, train, or truck.

“Our goal with our new Ceres 001 Founders Edition design is to provide an incredible jewel box showcase made for fine automobiles that is just as brilliant as the car inside on display,” says Cartainers president Sarah Blasi.

Company co-founder Zach Jenkins claims the system offers no compromises. “Collectors are able to enjoy a stunning, perfectly lit display system for cars that can be set up in the home, garage, or office. They also have an advanced container system that is ready to safely transport their car anywhere in the world.”

These big ol’ car boxes make their debut at Miami’s Art Basel weekend, December 8–10, where you can pre-order your Founders Edition Ceres 001 with a $1000 deposit.

***

Check out the Hagerty Media homepage so you don’t miss a single story, or better yet, bookmark it. To get our best stories delivered right to your inbox, subscribe to our newsletters.

The post Need a fancy box for your car? Cartainer has you covered appeared first on Hagerty Media.

People like to poop on Mustangs for all sorts of reasons, but one popular refrain is that they’re a dime a dozen. Sure, fine, they’re not rare cars, and by August 2018 Ford had built 10 million of the things. But there’s something to be said for democratizing performance, and anyone who has ever mashed the throttle of a V-8 Mustang has done so gladly and with a smile on their face.

Over the years there have been plenty of rare variants, and those tend to bring big bucks and occasionally make headlines when they come up for sale. No Mustang has brought bigger bucks than the 1968 Highland Green 390 fastback from the movie Bullitt, which sold for $3.74 million in January 2020. But it’s the run-of-the-mill Mustangs that make for easy access and touch the lives of the most people. And while Mustang ownership is technically easiest with a slushbox-shifting base-model with as few cylinders as possible, enthusiasts are after a bit of V-8 kick and they’re willing to fork over a few extra dollars to get it.

Still keeping both V-8 and value in mind, here are the cheapest eight-cylinder Mustangs by generation (we price the first through fifth gens) and #2 condition (Excellent), value in the Hagerty Price Guide.

First gen (1965–73): 1970 Mustang Coupe, $18,100

With a few minor updates (notably a return to single headlights), the 1970 Mustang was largely a carryover from ’69, and Ford built nearly 191,000 of them for the model year. Nine different engines were offered, including a pair of sixes, 428- and 429-cubic-inch big-blocks, and the new 351 Cleveland V-8, a $48 option. The base V-8 coupe, however, with its two-barrel 302 making 220 horsepower, slots in as the most affordable V-8 of the bunch today. Cars equipped with an automatic offer a slight discount, but then where’s the fun in that?

Second gen (1974–78): 1975 Mustang II Coupe, $14,100

Many enthusiasts view the Mustang II as a dim, dim light in the Dark Ages of American performance cars. One of the more generous views is that it was “the right car at the right time.” It was a car, alright, but in those post-performance years, this pioneering pony car served a different master: economy.

As such, the II was smaller than its predecessor in every way. Little changed inside or outside the car during its production run but, mercifully, a 5.0-liter V-8 joined the 2.8-liter V-6 and 2.3-liter four on the spec sheet for 1975. With 8.0:1 compression and 122 horsepower, it was nothing to write home about even in the mid-1970s, and we’re pretty certain no one ever did. For a very long time, these were $5500 cars, but since late 2020, values have skyrocketed, relatively speaking. Still, the V-8 Mustang II coupe slots in as the most affordable of the era.

Third gen (1979–93): 1987 Mustang 5.0 LX Coupe, $16,600

What a trooper the Fox-body Mustang was. Few cars soldier on for so long yet still sell like gangbusters. In fact, by the time production ended after that 15-year run, about 2.7 million of them had hit the road—that’s a Fox-body Mustang for every citizen of Botswana.

As for the ’87 model, there were big changes. For starters, the Mercury Capri went away, as did the turbocharged SVO Mustang, as did the V-6 option, which left only LX and GT Mustangs with four (yuck!) or eight (yay!) cylinders. Front and rear fascias were updated, aero-look headlights showed the way, and lower bodyside moldings framed the Mustang in a more Euro fashion. An LX will always lack the cachet of a GT, so it’s no surprise they are the cheaper option among enthusiasts today. But—spoiler alert!—you still get a five-speed manual and that great 5.0 with its 225 hp and 300 lb-ft of torque, so we’d hardly call this a loss.

Fourth gen (1994–2004): 1996 Mustang GT, $11,800

The venerable 5.0 V-8 soldiered on in the first couple years of production of the Mustang’s SN95 generation, but it was replaced with Ford’s new overhead cam 4.6-liter Modular unit for 1996. Despite being smaller, the more refined engine made the same power while delivering better fuel economy and reduced emissions. The change made plenty of people grumpy, which may account for the ’96 slotting in as not only the cheapest Mustang of the generation, but the cheapest V-8 Mustang overall.

For how long is anyone’s guess; values have been flat for a decade but that could mean an opportunity for collectors in the near future. In a model year that offered the potent Cobra and the crazy Mystic paint job, this regular old GT may seem pretty plain, but it’ll still put a smile on your face.

Fifth Gen (2005–14): 2005 Mustang GT, $22,700

The Mustang got a ground-up redo for 2005, with a new chassis, throwback styling, and an all-aluminum 4.6-liter V-8 featuring variable camshaft timing and making a quite respectable 300 hp and 320 lb-ft—enough to propel the car to 60 mph in 5.1 seconds. To the surprise of many, Ford kept the Mustang’s solid rear axle but vastly upgraded the ancient four-link way it had been tended to, with improved shocks, softer springs, and control arms that benefited from the addition of a Panhard rod. In short, the new Mustang was fast and it handled itself well. If those things are important to you, it’s probably well worth your time to seek one out, especially because values have been on the rise for the last 24 months.

***

Check out the Hagerty Media homepage so you don’t miss a single story, or better yet, bookmark it. To get our best stories delivered right to your inbox, subscribe to our newsletters. 

The post As cheap Mustangs go, these are the 5 to corral appeared first on Hagerty Media.

Lionsgate Entertainment, purveyors of such films as The Adventures of Sharkboy and Lavagirl 3-D (2005), Larry the Cable Guy: Health Inspector (2006), Bratz (2007), Leprechaun 3: Origins (2014), and all 10 movies in the Saw franchise (2004–23), may just have a new hit on its hands.

Race for Glory, which opens in theaters, on demand, and digitally on January 5, 2024, tells the story of Lancia’s 1983 Group B campaign in the World Rally Championship and the Italian firm’s fierce battle with Audi. With the German carmaker’s introduction of four-wheel drive ushering in a technological turning of the tide within the sport, 1983 represented a last-gasp effort for Lancia and its gorgeous Montecarlo-based, mid-engine, rear-drive 037. Spoiler alert: Lancia claimed the title.

The film stars Riccardo Scamarcio as Lancia team principal Cesare Fiorio, who recruits German ace Walter Röhrl (Volker Bruch) away from the Opel team with which he had won the drivers title only a year before. A skeptical Röhrl, who knows that Audi’s approach is the future, reluctantly agrees to join Lancia. As this is “a true David vs. Goliath story,” you can imagine where it goes from here.

“Against all odds,” reads the teaser accompanying the new trailer, “Lancia battles to regain its former glory with an unbeatable combination of bold innovation and extraordinary courage.” And Walter Röhrl, obviously … Daniel Brühl, who you’ll recognize from his portrayal of Niki Lauda in Rush, is cast as Audi team boss Roland Gumpert (latterly of Gumpert Apollo fame).

Riding the recent-ish wave of dramatic car stories as told on the big screen that began with 2013’s Rush then continued with Ford v Ferrari (2019), Lamborghini (2022, another Lionsgate joint), and most recently Ferrari (2023), Race for Glory (not to be confused with 1989’s Race for Glory, about an underdog motorcycle racer who takes on the world) aims to translate “the thrill of the road with this action-packed sports drama inspired by true events.” Heady stuff.

The trailer features all the tropes we’ve come to expect from these sorts of films, and car aficionados will likely want to take the racing scenes with a grain of salt, lest we be offended by incorrect engine sounds and the odd untruth. But it’s nice to see rallying get some feature-length love, particularly the controversial Group B era. Ahead of the movie’s release, those interested in seeing the drama of Group B without the gaudy filter of Hollywood should prime themselves with the fantastic documentaries Too Fast To Race and Still Too Fast to Race.

***

Check out the Hagerty Media homepage so you don’t miss a single story, or better yet, bookmark it. To get our best stories delivered right to your inbox, subscribe to our newsletters.

The post New <em>Race for Glory</em> movie jumps into Lancia-Audi battle for Group B appeared first on Hagerty Media.

Each December, we put together the Hagerty Bull Market List, our annual selection of the collector-car hobby’s movers and shakers. Basically, it’s a group of 10 or so cars (with the occasional truck and motorcycle thrown in) that the data tells us are poised to grow in value over the next 12 months. This isn’t investment advice per se—rather, an opportunity to point out that, with some due diligence and a smidge of luck, you can experience the joys of the collector-car hobby and maybe get your money back or a bit more when it’s time to sell.

The 2024 group debuting on December 11 will be the seventh list, so we have had plenty of time (and opportunity) to check how our predictive powers panned out.

2021’s Bull Market List came together in the waning months of 2020, just before the collector car market began to get truly spicy. As a whole, the collector market’s annualized return since that time is an impressive five percent. On average, the Bull Market class of 2021 fared even better, posting a 12.2 percent annualized return. Parsing the information a bit further, though, shows a fairly broad difference in individual vehicle performance.

While we had three picks with an annualized return of 20 percent or more along with three boasting returns well into the teens, three selections underperformed the market. Here’s what stood out.

***

Biggest hit:

1984–91 Ferrari Testarossa (26% annualized return)

Leave it to Ferrari to smack you in the face with a brash new car. That’s exactly what the Testarossa did to onlookers when it hit the streets. No car epitomizes the 1980s quite like it, and four decades on, the Testarossa still has that face-slapping effect. And while its outright performance has been trumped by countless machines (including some pretty mundane ones) in those ensuing decades, the TR’s wailing 380-hp flat-12 will still send you to 60 mph in just over 5 seconds, with a top end of 180 mph. Plenty quick.

By the early 2000s, the Testarossa had inevitably lost some steam in the used-car market, and it seemed like they’d be $50K exotics forever. But as we entered the mid-2010s, collector interest took off, and between 2014 and 2017, these cars jumped into the $125K realm. Things settled down for a spell, until late 2020, when buyers stepped on the gas pedal again, and now you’ll need a bit more than $200,000 to land a #2 (Excellent) example. Which is all to say that the Testarossa was a solid pick, providing owners a 26 percent annualized return since 2020, against 5.0 percent for the market at large during the same time. Fast, sexy, and a solid investment.

Biggest miss:

1948–54 Jaguar XK 120 OTS (-1% annualized return)

Few cars carry such timeless appeal as the XK 120. Even its XK 140 and 150 sisters lack the purity that makes the 120 resonate with so many people over so many generations. When we selected the 120 for our 2021 Bull Market List, it had been on a downward trajectory in the market—falling nearly seven percent in the previous three years. The car’s value graph over the last decade looks like rough seas in the North Atlantic, so no one was surprised by this; instead, we saw a big opportunity. The XK’s most recent bottoming-out came shortly after it made our list, just as the pandemic took over our lives. From mid-2020, prices climbed slowly and steadily, to a peak of $146,000 in January of this year for a #2 car. And down they’ve tumbled once more, so that the same Jag will now set you back about $129K.

Which is all to say that the XK 120 has posted a negative annualized return, down one percent, since it made our list. It is one of only four cars out of the 60 that have comprised our Bull Market picks since 2018 to post a negative result. Fear not, we say; collectors will always love this pretty kitty. If you happen to own one right now, we’re sure you do, too.

Honorable mention:

2011–12 Lexus LFA (23% annualized return)

Sometimes, supercars make the list, and in 2021 we featured two of them: the 2005–06 Ford GT and the 2011–12 Lexus LFA. Although the GT is no slouch and has outpaced the market with a 10 percent annualized return, the LFA absolutely took off. We valued a #2 LFA at around $575,000 for our 2021 list; today expect to pay north of $800K. Prices are flat at the moment, but only after a serious jump between May ’21 and May ’22. How long they will remain flat is anyone’s guess.

***

Check out the Hagerty Media homepage so you don’t miss a single story, or better yet, bookmark it. To get our best stories delivered right to your inbox, subscribe to our newsletters. 

The post 2021 Bull Market List: Report card appeared first on Hagerty Media.

Each December, we put together the Hagerty Bull Market List, our annual selection of the collector-car hobby’s movers and shakers. Basically, it’s a group of 10 or so cars (with the occasional truck and motorcycle thrown in) that the data tells us are poised to grow in value over the next 12 months. This isn’t investment advice per se—rather, an opportunity to point out that, with some due diligence and a smidge of luck, you can experience the joys of the collector-car hobby and maybe get your money back or a bit more when it’s time to sell.

The 2024 group debuting on December 11 will be the seventh list, so we have had plenty of time (and opportunity) to check how our predictive powers panned out.

The 2020 Bull Market List was the third edition, and this class of vehicles has yielded very strong results. This group has benefited from an average annualized return of 14.5 percent, besting the broader collector-car market’s performance (3.5 percent annualized return) by 11.1 percentage points. Even the weakest among them—the first motorcycle to be added to Bull Market—still managed to outperform the broader annualized return of all vehicles in the Hagerty Price Guide. Let’s look at some key picks from 2020.

***

Biggest hit:

1990–94 Volkswagen Corrado G60 (47% annualized return)

When it debuted, the $17,900 Corrado was VW’s spendiest machine. This wasn’t merely a warmed-over Golf. Your hard-earned money gave you a slick front-wheel-drive performer putting down 158 horsepower from its supercharged four, a 140-mph top end, along with plenty of room for passengers and their stuff. It was an entirely tossable, competent little car that looked like nothing else in the VW lineup—or really nothing else on the road. A zesty narrow-angle V-6 (dubbed VR6) replaced the force-fed four-cylinder in 1992, but the Corrado was never quite the seller VW hoped it would be, and it was gone by 1995.

When we selected the supercharged Corrado for the 2020 list, we valued #2 (“Excellent”) examples from $5700 to $8000; it was an entirely accessible alternative to sporty Japanese rides. No Bull Market car has ever skyrocketed quite like this V-Dub has, however, and its 47 percent annualized return outperformed the market as a whole by more than 43 percentage points. Today, that same #2 G60 will set you back more than 30 grand. Did you get in while the gettin’ was good?

Biggest miss:

1994–98 Ducati 916 (5% annualized return)

For our 2020 list, we included a motorcycle for the first time. With the sexy Ducati 916 out there in the wild, how could we not? On its debut it was a revelation of two-wheeled design; the Guggenheim Museum in New York included one in its Art of the Motorcycle exhibit in 1998. More importantly, the screaming 916 sold like gangbusters, won four World Superbike titles, and saved the struggling Italian marque.

The 916 wasn’t cheap when new ($14,495) and it held that value well. Back in 2020, our #2 value was $10,700–$13,300. Today we value an Excellent-condition 916 around $15,000, which represents a 5 percent annualized return. Against the market at large from 2020, which has had an average return of 3.5, it’s no loser, but it does remain the weakest vehicle from that year by three percentage points. The consolation, if one is needed, is this: On a lonely road of your choosing, a 916 will smoke 100 percent of the total vehicles we’ve ever featured in the Bull Market List.

Honorable mention:

1984–2001 Jeep Cherokee XJ (18% annualized return)

We recognized three SUVs on the 2020 list—the 1971–80 International Scout II, the 1970–95 Land Rover Range Rover, and the XJ Cherokee. All have made a strong showing of it in the years since, with the Scout posting a 12 percent annualized return and the Rover romping to 17 percent. But it’s the Cherokee that has posted the second-strongest performance of that year’s cohort (after the frankly absurd yield of the Corrado). It’s no wonder people are seeking them out; these Cherokees are loved for their no-nonsense styling and their can-do off-roading chops, their easy maintenance and their immense aftermarket support. There’s a lot to love, in other words.

***

Check out the Hagerty Media homepage so you don’t miss a single story, or better yet, bookmark it. To get our best stories delivered right to your inbox, subscribe to our newsletters.

The post 2020 Bull Market List: Report card appeared first on Hagerty Media.

With the Camaro nameplate retiring soon, we’re honoring the beloved two-door with a series of love letters, fun lists, and memories that you can follow here. Many performance cars, especially nowadays, aim for an anodyne version of perfection that only a few can afford. The Camaro is for the rest of us—and it’s always ready to party.

Part of the Camaro’s appeal has always been its accessibility. Chevy made a boatload of them over the decades, and each generation guaranteed a model for everybody who wanted one, from bare-bones six-cylinder coupes to fire-breathing stoplight kings. Inexpensive examples are everywhere; it’s the top dogs that you often have to wait—or fight—for. As the Camaro waves goodbye, and as we close out our deep dive into the beloved pony car, here’s a look at the most expensive Camaros from each of the first five generations. (Some caveats: For this exercise, we’re looking solely at auction sales, we’ve excluded modified Camaros, as well as those sold for charity, and we also ignored the sixth-gen cars—they simply haven’t hit the auction scene yet).

1st Gen: 1969 Camaro ZL1 COPO Coupe, $1,094,500

Just 69 COPO Camaros were produced in model-year 1969, and this original, matching-numbers Hugger Orange car is #59. It’s powered by an all-aluminum 427-cubic-inch V-8 mated to an M22 “Rock Crusher” four-speed manual, stopped by disc brakes. It was the only ZL1 ordered with a chambered exhaust. Rare and desirable cars always bring the money with respect to their “lesser” counterparts. This one had great performance options and also included plenty of documentation, with a complete ownership history. It had sold in 2018 for $770K, but when it sold at Barrett-Jackson’s Scottsdale auction in January 2020, it went over a million, which was more than $300,000 over our guide price for a #1 (Concours) example at the time. The key to its price jump between sales? The owner had managed to track down the car’s original engine block.

2nd Gen: 1970 Camaro RS Z/28 Coupe, $137,500

In the realm of second-generation Camaros, the 1970–73 “split-bumper” cars tend to bring more than their later counterparts. The elegance of that front end is hard to argue. This car sold at Mecum’s Kissimmee auction in January 2022. The listing says it had been treated to a mild restoration with one repaint in the original Hugger Orange. The matching-numbers 360-hp 350-cubic-inch V-8 was paired with a four-speed manual, with front disc brakes and a 12-bolt Posi rear end. A Hurst shifter and perfect houndstooth upholstery competed the look. At the time of the sale, we valued a #1 condition Z/28 with the RS package at around $86,000. There was a lot to like about this car, and at least two bidders needed to have it, which accounts for the big result.

3rd Gen: 1990 Camaro IROC-Z Convertible, $102,300

Three V-8 engines powered the IROC-Z in 1990: a 305 making 210 hp; a 305 making 230 hp, and a 350 making 245 hp. Ordinarily, the biggest engine attracts the biggest bucks. This particular Camaro only featured the high-output 305 with its 230 hp and an automatic transmission, so why the standout price? Mileage. This one had just 557 original miles and was as clean as they come. Fewer than 1300 ragtop IROCs were built in 1990, and it’d be easy to make the case that this is the best of them. Finished in Bright Red over a gray cloth interior, the car showed a clean black top and was nicely appointed with power options, cruise control, and A/C. When it sold at Barrett-Jackson in January of this year, we valued the best in the world at $56,700, so this price certainly raised some eyebrows. It’s a good reminder, however, what low mileage can add to a car’s value.

4th Gen: 1997 Camaro SS 30th Anniversary Coupe, $95,700

This guy had everything going for it. Anniversary edition, check. Big engine, check. Low miles, check. Original plastic on the seats, check. Double-digit mileage always attracts collectors, and this car’s 76 original miles certainly brought bidders to the table. It was also just 1 of 100 anniversary Camaros fitted with the 330-hp LT4 engine, the most powerful lump offered in a Camaro that year. Finished in white with Hugger Orange stripes over houndstooth upholstery, this car felt as “throwback” as it gets. It sold at Mecum’s Indy sale in May 2021, and at the time we valued pristine examples at a shade over $39,000. It’s hard to imagine the car was purchased to drive, so the next time we see it at auction, it may very well be in the exact same condition. And it will be priced accordingly.

5th Gen: 2011 Camaro SS Indy Pace Car Convertible, $148,500

Camaros have paced the Indy 500 on 9 occasions, including a three-in-a-row stint from 2009 to 2011. This fifth-generation Camaro Pace car was the first of 50 built for the purpose and was driven for the parade lap of the 2011 race, which coincided with both the centennial anniversary of both the 500 and of Chevrolet. Its Summit White exterior with orange stripes and interior accents is a nod to the ’69 Camaro Pace Car, and the inside of the trunk was signed by the ’69 winner, Mario Andretti. When it sold at Barrett-Jackson’s 2012 Scottsdale sale, the 400-hp convertible showed just over 100 miles on the odometer. Regular year-old Camaros were little more than used cars at the time, and the best 2011 Pace Car in the world is still only worth about $46,000 today, but, this particular example, with it’s on-track pedigree and low mileage clearly set it apart.

***

Check out the Hagerty Media homepage so you don’t miss a single story, or better yet, bookmark it. To get our best stories delivered right to your inbox, subscribe to our newsletters.

The post The most expensive Camaros to sell at auction, by generation appeared first on Hagerty Media.

I often try to reminisce about England in the 1950s and ’60s. Crisp autumn days in the Cotswolds. Narrow village lanes. Classic British motoring. The problem here is that I was born in Canada. In the mid-1990s. The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows defines this sort of sentiment: Anemoia (noun): Nostalgia for a time you’ve never known.

I belong to a group of young British motoring enthusiasts, and we know this feeling well.

The postwar period in England ushered in the development of small cars that perfectly paired man and machine. The liberty and optimism of this golden era were complemented by the handsome styling and reassuring handling afforded by Little British Cars (or LBCs)—chief among them, the droptop. The period marked the pinnacle of raw, tactile enjoyment that British auto manufacturing could provide, and starry-eyed enthusiasts have been chasing it ever since.

I purchased my blue 1976 MGB in 2014, when I was 19. It was my first car. Originally a Harvest Gold American-market car that had been imported to Canada, this repainted six-owner MG exemplifies the perseverance of British motoring. Locked at 38,609 miles, the odometer stopped working shortly after I bought the B. It’s a five-digit unit that I’m certain has rolled over once, if not twice. The British Leyland Baltimore Dealer business card I found under the ripped and sun-bleached seat, along with a New York State Parks ticket from 1998, alluded to the car’s history of constant use.

I’ve added another 30,000 miles, taking it from Toronto to Pittsburgh, Watkins Glen to Detroit, and Niagara Falls to northern Ontario. When I moved to Toronto from the sleepy suburbs and brought my MGB along with me, I thought I was surely the only person my age masochistic enough to strap on leather gloves and daily-drive a half-century-old oily death trap on some of the most treacherous highways in North America. As it turned out, I was wrong.

Engaging with the car scene on social media, I connected with an entire group of classic car owners who defy the stereotypes of the British car community. This group of millennials and Gen Zers spans North America, from my home in Toronto all the way to Los Angeles. And they don’t just own these old British cars—they drive the snot out of them. Why are a bunch of teens and twentysomethings suddenly so obsessed with an obscure era of obsolete British relics? I reached out to investigate, and a few of them agreed to meet to chat about it.

I arrived in my MGB and was soon joined by Jason DeFreitas in his MG Midget, Colin Doust in an Austin-Healey Sprite, and Josh Crawford with his Austin Mini. They arrived late, but only because they’d had to procure some oil for a top off. Which was fine, because it gave me time to tinker with my horn, which had stopped working. We are nothing if not immersed in the British car experience.

Unsurprisingly, one of the first topics was the reliability of our cars. Crawford, age 18, has had the most stereotypical experience. “My car has broken down dozens of times,” he said, undeterred. “But every time it breaks down, I end up learning something and am better prepared for when it breaks down next. It doesn’t stop me from going on long-distance trips.”

Jay Leno defined the classic British car zeitgeist in a single sentence when firing up Moss Motor’s experimental MGB on his web series Jay Leno’s Garage: “Oh, wow, it started!” Leno is no stranger to British automobiles, and in an episode last year, he got behind the wheel of one of his favorite cars of all time—an MGA—owned and restored by 24-year-old enthusiast Daniel Harrison. I got in touch with Daniel, who described the reliability of his 1958 MGA as nearly flawless, though he insists that maintaining these aging English contraptions isn’t always sunshine and rainbows. “Sometimes they’re extremely irritating and uncomfortable, and then occasionally you get a little golden nugget of an experience which sucks you right back in again.” Daniel’s YouTube channel “Limit 55” aims to demystify the classic car experience and portray the honest picture of owning and maintaining vintage cars.

Jason DeFreitas shared a similar sentiment on this double-edged-sword regarding his orange MG Midget. “With 65 horsepower and four gears, having your engine scream at 4500 rpm for an hour gets old. It has also taught me every possible way to get oil out of my driveway. But it is a riot to drive, handles like a go-kart, and makes all the right noises.”

It’s no secret that British cars have a famous reputation for their electrical gremlins and oil stains. The consensus among us was that these cars will always need attention— because they’re old, not because they’re British. There will always be surprises and sometimes even dark days, but their agricultural robustness and their simple serviceability have allowed them to stand the test of time. Ultimately, if you take care of these classics, they will take care of you. Having a roadside assistance plan doesn’t hurt, though.

Cars like the MGA and B, the Austin-Healey 100 and 3000, and various Triumphs defined the modern recipe of the nimble, front engine, rear-wheel-drive sports car. Despite their front-drive packaging, you could lump Minis in with them, too. That all of these cars were also affordable endeared them to millions of motorists on both sides of the Atlantic.

Minis, for example, are one of the world’s most popular classic cars. From 1959 to 2000, a mind-boggling 5.3 million were produced, six of which were used in the filming of the Mr. Bean series. MGBs also rank as one of the bestselling classics; from 1962 until 1980, MG produced over half a million of them, and it is estimated that upwards of 15 percent are still on the road today.

In addition to scoring historic victories at Le Mans, Monte Carlo, and the Nürburgring, the MGB was practical, economical, and affordable—the GT version was affectionately dubbed “the poor man’s Aston Martin.” I would put extra emphasis on the “poor” given that having roll-up windows was touted as a groundbreaking feature in sales brochures of the time. Other standard features included an ashtray and steel wheels. But novelty equipment wasn’t what sold these cars. The promise of pure joy sold them.

As demand for these Little British Cars wanes, however, so too does membership in many established classic car clubs. Although Colin, Daniel, and I are part of local and national Triumph and MG clubs, new memberships are still failing to offset the loss of old ones. Reassuringly, however, these cars are re-emerging in new circles. When he isn’t studying engineering, Josh can be found attending a number of local car meets and club events, including one at his university. Jason, meanwhile, runs a popular local car club called Northrides Orangeville. His aim is to create an inclusive group “free from idiots and judgmental a-holes” where his MG Midget can be seen alongside JDM classics and Kei trucks, German autobahn cruisers, and various exotics.

Today, the price of car ownership is skyrocketing. Many new vehicles feel out of reach for young people, and many of the previously sensible classics like Mazda Miatas and Datsun 240s are becoming all but unattainable. But not these Little British Cars. The value trend lines for MGAs and Bs, Midgets, Minis, and Spitfires have generally remained flat over the last decade. That’s great news for the money-strapped youth of the world.

Even better, these cars can be serviced and even rebuilt with the most rudimentary of hand tools. A half-inch wrench and a screwdriver can fix most things, and every single part for these cars is readily available—and largely affordable, though most parts seldom need replacing at all. In fact, the overall simplicity of these LBCs—MGB shock absorbers are based on 100-year-old compact hydraulic lever arms that can be serviced rather than replaced—helps keep more of them on the road. Putting miles on these cars comes easy when maintenance costs are low and fuel consumption is that of a lawnmower.

Even with fuel prices currently at obscene levels, I’m still not dissuaded from driving. My B averages 30 mpg on the highway, and I regularly exceed 6000 miles per year in it. Josh drives his Mini more than 2,400 miles a year; Jason takes his Midget on frequent long journeys; Daniel’s MGA has been across California and back; and Colin is planning a thousand-mile trip to Road America with his Sprite.

And even with their wallet-friendly powertrains, these cars are far from slow and boring, which only furthers their timeless appeal. Although the MGB’s 95 horsepower doesn’t sound like a lot, a properly tuned B-series motor is a highly capable musical instrument with a uniquely throaty howl. Mild upgrades to any of these cars—lightened flywheels, headers, shaved and ported cylinder heads—go a long way toward maximizing performance. Ancient, dependable, and famously fickle twin SU carburetors allow for some of the best throttle response available.

Sure, modern cars offer infinitely more comfort, safety, and even speed than their vintage British counterparts, which never got the memo on noise, vibration, and harshness. But the overwhelming majority of new vehicles today are a beige appeal to the lowest common denominator, each crammed with a tacky assortment of gimmicks which are simultaneously everything and nothing. Amid the landscape of increasingly boring modern cars and increasingly expensive classics, Little British Cars are a gleaming beacon of hope for a truly attainable driving experience. For younger enthusiasts, they present a unique opportunity to get the thrill of a sports car, the charm of a classic, and the price tag of a clapped-out Hyundai. And, as always, you won’t lack for attention: My 47-year-old MG gets looks everywhere I drive. Smiles and happy memories shared from silver-haired gentlemen recalling their youth. Waves from little kids on their bikes telling me to floor it (I usually already am).

“Still One Jump Ahead” read British Leyland’s MG advertisements throughout the 1970s. By the end of the decade, most new British cars were absolutely showing their age; they were outdated and outpaced by the competition, which increasingly came from Japan. Nevertheless, what made these British cars so popular in the past is what will allow them to prosper in the future. Affordability, simplicity, and fun have always been a recipe for success. Among the noise (and, increasingly, the EV hush) of today’s automotive landscape, cheerful LBCs will continue to attract the latest generation of enthusiasts eager to experience the analog freedom of the golden age of motoring. The Little British Car, it would seem, is still one jump ahead.

* * *

“What would you tell other people looking to get into a classic British car?”

***

Check out the Hagerty Media homepage so you don’t miss a single story, or better yet, bookmark it. To get our best stories delivered right to your inbox, subscribe to our newsletters.

The post MGs, Minis, and Millennials: The next generation of Little British Car enthusiasts appeared first on Hagerty Media.

Everybody loves a bargain, whether it’s happy hour beers at your local, BOGO at the book store, or a two-fer at your favorite online retailer. Heck, in some jurisdictions, Black Friday has somehow turned into the entire month of November. In this economy, you’ll hear few complaints.

There are deals to be found throughout the classic car market as well, and, lucky for us, that includes the performance realm occupied by America’s Sports Car. Despite a few eye-watering results in 2023, like the $3.14M record price RM Sotheby’s achieved in January for a 1969 ZL-1 convertible, Corvettes have always represented good value for money. After digging into the data from our most recent update to the Hagerty Price Guide, we’ve determined that these seven Corvettes—one from each generation, excluding today’s C8—are the cheapest examples you can buy right now. Unsurprisingly, they hover around base-model territory, but a Corvette is a Corvette, and it’s almost impossible to go wrong.

For this exercise, we’re focusing on examples in #2 condition (Excellent), which means they drive like new and might even win you a trophy at a regional car show. If there’s someone on your “Nice List” this holiday season, now might be the perfect time to shop.

C1 (1953–62)

1956 Convertible

The 1956 Corvette represented a complete overhaul from the models that preceded it, the most notable difference being those gorgeous side coves sometimes set off by two-tone paint. Following the V-8’s introduction in 1955, three different 265-cid V-8 configurations were offered in ’56, with outputs of 210, 225, and 240 horsepower. The penny saver here is the base car, breathing through a four-barrel carb and putting its adequate power to the back wheels through a three-speed manual transmission. Following a modest rise in prices that began with the onset of the pandemic, prices peaked around April 2022 before settling back to pre-pandemic levels. Today, a car in #2 shape sells for about $70,500. Figure around $60,000 if it’s equipped with the Powerglide automatic.

C2 (1963–67)

1964 Convertible

Chevy’s 1963 redesign of the Corvette gave us a coupe for the first time, and what a coupe it was; the one-year-only Split-Window Corvette is rightly regarded as one of the most beautiful cars to ever hit the road. The rest of the Corvettes in second-gen lineup were no slouches, either. Open or closed, you can’t go wrong. Take the ’64 327/250 convertible, for instance. In this configuration, with the optional four-speed manual and single Carter four-barrel, it’s sitting at about $64,000, and closer to $51,000 if equipped with the base three-speed manual. It’ll never be a match—on the street or the auction block—for its hi-po 327/375 fuelie counterpart ($89,400 for a #2), but you’ll hardly care when you’re buying million-dollar looks for Silverado money.

C3 (1968–82)

1976 Coupe

The swoopy, pointy, sexy “Shark” Corvette hit the streets in 1968, and though it would trade its chrome bumpers for even more fantastic plastic by 1974, the basic shape soldiered on into the early ’80s, by which point more than 542,000 had been produced—roughly equal to total production of C1, C2, and C4 Corvettes combined. While few enthusiasts would ever accuse a ’76 Corvette of being potent, a nicely kept 180-hp L48 coupe is a joy to own. They also take us into affordable, sub-$20K territory, with an average sale price of $19,500. That may seem cheap, and prices appear to be leveling off as we end the year, but keep in mind these cars have gained nearly 64 percent in value since 2018, which means that if the best time to buy one was five years ago, then certainly the second-best time is today.

C4 (1984–96)

1986 Coupe

When it arrived, the fourth-gen Corvette was a revelation in every way, a world-class performer underpinned by an all-new chassis, with a funky digital dash to rival the finest Texas Instruments calculator in the land. After debuting with 205 hp, base cars quickly got a bump to 230, and for 1986, a convertible model returned to the lineup following an 11-year absence. It’s the ’86 coupe we’re interested in, however, and at around $17,900, it’s the cheapest Corvette of them all. But for how long? The five-year trajectory on these cars has seen them gain 50 percent, and they’re still headed up.

C5 (1997–2004)

1997 Coupe

Until mid-2021, fifth-gen Corvettes represented one of the best bang-for-buck ratios in the performance-car world. Today, at an average #2 price of $26,400, they’ve gained the attention of collectors, but they’re still a solid deal. And with 345 horses on tap from that terrific LS1 V-8, a near 50/50 weight balance, and 30 mpg possible on the highway, there is little this Corvette can’t do. The ’97 model year was coupe-only, and the automatic transmission was standard, so these days it generally means a 10 percent discount. If you prefer two pedals, it’s a good way to save yourself some dough. If you prefer the wind in your hair, however, maybe consider our next pick.

C6 (2005–13)

2005 Convertible

Prices have cooled in 2023 on all but the very best ’05 Corvettes. Thankfully, a #2 condition car is not the very best, so a convertible at $32,000 is a stellar deal. Especially when you consider the 400-hp LS2 lugging it around. In fact, the kind of performance this car delivers for the price is almost unfair; an ’05 Porsche 911 convertible in similar fettle will set you back $55K, for example. There’s no intermediate shaft bearing issue to fret over in the Corvette, either. Win-win.

C7 (2014–19)

2014 Stingray Coupe

Before Chevy made the dramatic switch to a mid-engine layout for the C8 Corvette, the seventh-gen car gave enthusiasts everything they could want from a front engine/rear-drive layout. The car featured a 455-hp LT1 V-8 mated to an all-new seven-speed manual gearbox that offered rev-matching, a carbon fiber hood and removable roof panels, plus a more premium interior (finally!) and a full suite of gizmos designed for coddling and convenience. We don’t currently feature these in the Hagerty Price Guide, but you can get yourself into one for around $48,600, and when compared to some of the very latest, very snoozy new-car offerings, why wouldn’t you?

***

Check out the Hagerty Media homepage so you don’t miss a single story, or better yet, bookmark it. To get our best stories delivered right to your inbox, subscribe to our newsletters. 

The post From mild to wild, these are the 7 cheapest Corvettes right now appeared first on Hagerty Media.

Today’s Challenger is not long for this world, but Direct Connection, Dodge’s factory-backed catalog of performance parts, is making sure one of its most hallowed engines lives on. Starting in the first quarter of 2024, customers will be able to order the Hellephant C170 Crate Hemi, the same fire-breathing 6.2-liter, 1025-hp engine found in the Challenger SRT Demon 170.

The fully assembled engine carries an MSRP of $27,695 and includes a new 3.0-liter IHI supercharger that features an improved intercooler plus a larger snout and 3.02-inch pulley for increased boost. Customers with their hearts set on different builds can forego the full shebang in favor of a dressed-down Hellephant C170 Hemi long block ($18,995), which still gives them the stoutest internals this side of Earth’s inner core but leaves off the blower to allow for more flexibility.

The Hellephant C170 kicks off a full complement of long blocks coming to the Direct Connection catalog, all of which will be available early in 2024. They include the Hellcrate and Hellcrate Redeye 6.2L Supercharged Crate Hemis; the 392 Crate Hemi; the 345 Crate Hemi; and two different variants of the 3.0-liter Hurricane twin-turbo six capable of pumping out between 420 hp and 550 hp.

Dodge launched its initial Direct Connection catalog in 1974 as a way to cater to enthusiasts seeking factory-backed performance parts. The relaunched service came online in March 2022 and has continued to add performance products that tantalize diehard Mopar fans ever since, from brake and suspension components to transmissions and engine internals. These new Hemi crate engines are sure to find their way into all manner of street and track machines.

The post Mopar fans can soon lay hands on a 1025-hp Hellephant Crate Hemi appeared first on Hagerty Media.

What’s that thing I’ve read? Something about how you’re not really dead until the last person to say your name has also left the planet?

My dad’s been gone since 1996, and we four kids still remember him with great affection and more frequency than you’d expect given it’s been, let’s see … 27 years now. The photo of him and my mom on the wall has been hanging there so long I no longer really notice it, and his photo smile never did really convey the man anyway.

Sometime in 1977, during my junior year at Ruskin High School, I was walking home—which might mean my Triumph Spitfire was either down for the count again or I hadn’t acquired it quite yet. I came to the corner of Red Bridge Road and Bennington Avenue and a stunning Shelby GT500 KR convertible was gleaming at me from the wrap-around driveway of the nicest, biggest house around, with its top down and a “For Sale” sign on the windshield: $6500. If the Shelby shown here, listed early this year on Bring A Trailer, isn’t that very car, I’ll eat the white convertible top.

The first sentence of the BaT ad reads: “This 1968 Shelby Mustang GT500 KR is one of 518 convertibles produced for the model year and was built on June 26, 1968. It was delivered to Paul’s Ford Sales of Kansas City, Missouri . . .”

Tall Paul’s Ford was only about a mile down the road, and it’s hard to imagine there being two of these in that skinflint part of KC. There were plenty of Mustangs around, already clapped out at 10 years old, thanks to winter salt and period modifications, but the perfect, unmolested GT500 KR I saw seemed to have nothing in common with them. It must have spent all its time in the garage, or I surely would have seen it before. At that time, I was more of a Camaro guy, but seeing it there for sale, I was suddenly willing to rethink.

In my mind’s eye, I think it was spring, because I remember the patches of snow on the driveway that set off the red paint, just like in the BaT ad. The convertible top was down to reveal the racy black roll bar that KRs came with.

Soon as Pops rolled in from work in his AMC Ambassador, I laid it on him. “Dad! You have to buy this Shelby Mustang GT500 KR convertible!” I knew he was shopping for a new car anyway. In those days, you kind of had to buy a new car every few years, as they rusted away beneath you.

“Mustang?” he said in his Alabama drawl. Dad was never a Ford guy, either.

As part of my pitch, I may even have told him it would be collectible, though I doubt I really had any such idea at the time. I just wanted to drive around in the thing—who wouldn’t? “Dad, it’s a 428 Cobra Jet! With A/C and a power top! And it’s red and looks brand new!”

“How much?” he asked.

“Only $6500!”

He took a long pull from his evening vodka tonic, fixed me with one eye and said, “There’s no way in hell I’m paying no sixty-five hundred dollars for no ten-year-old Mustang.” He liked to revert to the vernacular when making certain declarative points.

I think I knew that would be his reaction, but I had to put it out there anyway, just in case. We needed cars to drive, not to collect, and Dad had a history of buying vehicles that didn’t really lend themselves to emotional attachment. Maybe I did sense the KR would be collectible some day, because by 1977 Ford was slapping the Mustang name on some truly atrocious little automobiles, which made even us Chevy dudes long for the ’60s. But even back in ’77, if you shopped around you could find nice used Camaros and Chevelles and the like for around two grand. So $6500 really was a lot of money, even for a new car. And with four kids to feed on one income, we weren’t a wealthy family. Just wealthy enough to tithe to St. Mary’s every Sunday, though. It was a different time for sure, and Dad was a completely different, less materialistic animal than his oldest son. Must have been a Depression-era thing.

He wound up trading the Ambassador for a Plymouth Volare wagon with the slant-six, which Google tells me had a base price of $4241. Yet another hair shirt of a vehicle, produced in that terrible era when Detroit hadn’t uncorked the fuel-injection genie and was still trying to make carburetors work with emissions equipment. My poor dad was no mechanic; I learned by doing and may even have introduced him to interchangeable parts. Look, Dad, it’s easier to just buy a new carburetor than to take the whole car to Jerry’s Conoco all the time to try to make that one work.

I was excited as you’d expect when I got the red Triumph Spitfire, followed immediately by being crushed that it was all topped out at about 80 mph. How can a thing look so fast and . . . not be? I got rid of it and followed up with an $1800 hopped-up ’67 SS396 Chevelle, which turned out to be neither an SS nor hopped-up. I had to save up another $600 to get its engine rebuilt; then it really was a beast both of my parents feared. At 18, however, I lacked their grim imagination.

A few short years after we didn’t buy the Mustang, the Army sent me to California, then Colorado, Texas, and Germany. When I finished school, I landed a job at Cycle magazine that moved me to California for good. I started my own family and may have made it back to KC six or 10 times in the next few decades, two of them for my parents’ funerals. One of our regular reminiscences was the red Mustang we didn’t buy. I’d tell my dad what it was currently worth (that it sold in February for $211,000 tells me I might have been on to something). He’d counter with something along the lines of: “You would’ve wrapped it around a telephone pole anyway.” He wasn’t wrong. But first I would have installed headers, glasspacks, traction bars, air shocks, and fuzzy dice.

I’m convinced that BaT Shelby GT500 KR was our GT500 KR, and seeing it pop up on my computer screen was like seeing Dad’s young ghost. That night, I dreamt of the two of us rolling down Red Bridge Road in it with the top down.

***

Check out the Hagerty Media homepage so you don’t miss a single story, or better yet, bookmark it. To get our best stories delivered right to your inbox, subscribe to our newsletters.

The post This ’68 Shelby GT500 KR is one that got away—and it’s probably just as well appeared first on Hagerty Media.

The Volvo 122 had a long, complicated gestation before it ever hit the road. But even today, seven decades after its 1956 home-market unveiling, it’s clear the many not-quite-right iterations that finally landed 26-year-old designer Jans Wilsgaard his first masterpiece for the marque did not come in vain. The 122 has aged perfectly.

For some time now, enthusiasts have sung the praises of the objectively gorgeous 1800 coupe and later 1800ES two-door wagon of the 1960s and early ’70s, and today they are priced accordingly, with the nicest coupes now regularly fetching north of $75,000. Ten years ago, they were a third of that.

But even as collector interest spiked for the 1800, its 122 stablemate mostly flew under the radar. Mostly, but more on that in a minute. . . .

This two-door 1966 122S is a prime example of a good car flying low, and on October 24, it sold on Bring A Trailer for just $7777 ($8166 with buyer’s premium).

The car is not perfect—far from it—and we’d rate it as a #4- (“Fair”) on the scale of overall condition. It is a driver with visible flaws. But other flawed driver-condition Volvo Amazons (so named for the female warriors of Greek mythology) have brought more. So, at this purchase price, what is the buyer getting, and what comes next?

This car came to Oregon via Arizona in 2014, though it’s unclear how long the Volvo lived in the desert. What is clear is that the amount of rust, which is effectively zero and limited primarily to underbody surfaces, is commensurate with a long stay in a dry place. The seller then recovered the front seats, fitted PerTronix electronic ignition, and replaced the valve-cover gasket and a few other minor bits. In 2020, he treated the car to a respray in its original white—a scuff and shoot, if you will, as the door jambs, interior, trunk, and engine bay were left original. So was the weatherstripping, all of which is cracked or otherwise rotten. It lets down the whole car. Additionally, the washer fluid reservoir is wrapped in duct tape, and the suspension retaining straps on the rear axle are both broken.

On the bright side, literally, all chrome and brightwork is present and shiny with just a few dings here and there, and none of the glass is cracked. The five-digit odometer shows 52,000 miles, which could just as easily be 252,000 or 952,000, but in the last nine years, the seller reportedly added only about 200 miles to the total.

Regardless of the mileage, in the start-up and idling videos accompanying the gallery, the 1.8-liter B18 four-cylinder, breathing through twin SU carbs, sounds delightful and just a bit throaty, with zero hiccups or unnerving noises. This Amazon is, as they say, an “honest” car.

It is exactly the kind of car you’d want to own and drive and restore as you go. As one commenter noted, all of this car’s needs appear to be “driveway-doable.” Roughly $600 in rubber bits and retaining straps from IPD plus a $40 eBay washer reservoir will address just about all of the car’s most pressing issues, and the buyer will still come out below the $12,000 at which we currently value similar 122S two-doors.

It’s a #3 car then, and a weatherproof one at that. That’s a lot of added “driver” function for not much moolah. Even better, this is not a car the buyer will need to be delicate with. Amazons are stout, overengineered, under-stressed 95-hp machines, and with minimal care not much will go awry. It is as ideal for vintage rallies as it is for weekends puttering about, this car.

For many years, the Amazon market was represented by a long flat-ish line, but then it climbed, quickly, from $4700 in early 2021 to its present twelve grand. That’s a warm, warm market. These cars trailed 1800s for a long time, but they have their own head of steam now. They still trail many contemporary European counterparts, though. For how long is anyone’s guess, but we’d say this buyer got into a pretty, good car at a pretty good time and should be thrilled for what comes next.

***

Check out the Hagerty Media homepage so you don’t miss a single story, or better yet, bookmark it. To get our best stories delivered right to your inbox, subscribe to our newsletters.

The post Is there a classic more practical than this Volvo Amazon? appeared first on Hagerty Media.

Let’s be clear, some cars have a face for the big screen (just about any Aston Martin, for example). Others have a mug for radio (Fiat Multipla, anyone?). Somewhere in between are the cars that best lend their front ends to . . . pumpkins.

Because it is decorative gourd season, folks, we figured it was time to come up with the nowhere-near definitive list of automotive jack-o-lanterns. There’s a delicate balance, of course, between what’s easy to sketch on paper and what translates well to the side of a giant orange fruit, but who are we to determine what is and isn’t possible when you put carving tools in the hands of a master, uh, squashwright? (We’re in it solely for the seeds, anyway—salted. None of this butter and cinnamon-sugar business, thanks).

So, without further ado, your 2023 list of the auto faces best translated into jack-o-lanternmobiles.

Austin-Healey Bugeye Sprite

Not all Halloween décor needs to be spooky. And whatever the opposite of spooky is, the Sprite is it. With a big goofy smile and big goofy eyes, this Brit is the ideal kid-greeter for your front stoop. Be careful, though, one wrong slice and you might turn this happy little Jekyll into its more sinister Hyde—the Daimler SP250.

Rolls-Royce Phantom II

Beyond its ghostly name, the ginormous Rolls presents a face only its cyborg mother could love—and people with half a million bucks to drop on a luxo-commuter. Keep in mind the front end of this thing is as big and as upright as the face of an HD Silverado, so you’ll want a fat, slab-sided pumpkin to accommodate that maw and the squinty, menacing eyes.

BMW i4

BMW’s trademark kidney-bean front end easily translates to fleshy sculpture, and the marque’s history offers up a broad range of simple, elegant faces to choose from. The 2002? Adorable! For this exercise, however, we’re looking squarely at the visage applied to the German carmaker’s all-electric sedan. To go from the understated elegance of the E21 (1975–83) 3 Series to the bucktoothed grin of today’s battery-powered i4 is a curious evolution indeed. This car doesn’t even need a grille; why BMW gave it the largest one ever devised is a mystery for our time.

Isuzu VehiCROSS

If goofy cartoon vampires are your thing, then the weirdly adorable VehiCROSS is the perfect template for your masterpiece. The tiny sharp teeth poking out from the grille are juuuust threatening enough to say “I bite” while the rest of the thing screams “BUT IT TICKLES!” Wrapping the lower half of the pumpkin in black plastic is optional but, for the sake of authenticity, mandatory.

Studebaker Avanti

If you’re pressed for time, or you simply don’t know how to do noses, skip that feature entirely by carving an Avanti face. Make it easy on yourself by going the 1963–’64 route: You really just need a couple of circles spaced an uncomfortably long distance apart, with a long, thin, completely flat line beneath them. Boom, done. And no one will mistake it for anything else.

What are you carving up this Halloween? Share your car-themed jack-o-lanterns with us on Facebook by clicking this link.

***

Check out the Hagerty Media homepage so you don’t miss a single story, or better yet, bookmark it. To get our best stories delivered right to your inbox, subscribe to our newsletters.

The post 5 cars with faces made for pumpkin-carving appeared first on Hagerty Media.

Back in August, we reported on the new C68 Carbon, a rebodied, reimagined retromod built in the style of a 1968 Dodge Charger by custom Mopar builder ExoMod.

Welp, they’re at it again and have just announced a stablemate for the 807-horsepower, Hellcat-engined C68. Like that machine, the new D69 Daytona is based on the current Challenger platform. However, the D69 takes its design cues from the winged wonder that wreaked havoc on NASCAR’s superspeedways in 1969 and ’70 and became the first such car to top 200 mph.

For this build, ExoMod retains the familiar shape of a classic Daytona—its pointy nose and tall spoiler—but tones down both to slightly less purposeful, more street-friendly proportions. The car begins as a Challenger Hellcat Redeye, stripped to its undies and then completely reclothed in a carbon fiber “aero body,” a 2000-hour build process, according to ExoMod.

“The Dodge Daytona is perhaps the pinnacle of the muscle car movement of the late ’60s,” says ExoMod CEO Rick Katzeff. “Building a D69 Daytona has been a dream of mine for many years and I’m thrilled that we can now offer this vehicle to our clients with modern-day performance and peace of mind.”

No two D69 builds will be alike, but they will share that supercharged 6.2-liter, 807-hp screamer V-8, an eight-speed TorqueFlite paddle-shift transmission, SRT Competition suspension, and Brembo brakes with six-piston calipers clamping down on nearly 16-inch slotted rotors. The prototype shown here, s/n EXO-007, wears Firenze Red Pearl paintwork with carbon reveal cosmetic flourishes on the wing, tail panel, door jambs, rockers, and rear diffuser. DigiTails has supplied sequential LED taillights, and the Forgeline wheels, finished in dark satin bronze, are wrapped in Nitto NT555 tires.

The interior is a step up from current Challenger offerings, too, luxuriously done in two-tone Italian leather with ink-and-walnut-colored seats and walnut door panels. An 18-speaker Harman Kardon audio system is there when you get tired of the vroom noises. Despite all the custom work done to make the Challenger into something else entirely, buyers won’t lose Dodge’s 5-year/60,000-mile warranty. Their bank accounts will, however, lose $395,000 on the purchase.

The D69 will make its public debut at 2023’s Muscle Car and Corvette Nationals in Rosemont, Illinois, on November 18.

***

Check out the Hagerty Media homepage so you don’t miss a single story, or better yet, bookmark it. To get our best stories delivered right to your inbox, subscribe to our newsletters.

The post ExoMod’s D69 Daytona is a winged wonder for the present appeared first on Hagerty Media.

Like many things, being in a relationship with a classic car can be a double-edged sword. Moments of joy are sometimes interrupted by breakdowns, literally, and the bloom falls off the rose for a bit. Having spent decades nursing marginal machines onto and off of the road, again and again, I have come to accept that the risk is much less than the reward. Nonetheless, we all expose ourselves to mechanical breakdowns when we take our decades-old cars out for a spin.

This exposure led me to be on the receiving end of a call the other Saturday from a friend whose air-cooled Porsche 911 had left him stranded on the side the road. Now, this friend is a very intelligent gentleman, with great optimism about fixing problems, but his familiarity with car repair is only recently emerging. So, we began the dance of a road-side diagnosis by phone, and I guided him as best I could, mimicking my late father’s best bedside manner.

“Describe the symptoms—what happened right before it died?” I implored my friend.

“I was driving along and heard a loud ‘pop’ and then the engine went dead,” said Steve.

Step One in diagnosing a dead car on the side of the road is its behavior right before the incident. Fuel delivery failures generally are less dramatic, with lots of associated wheezing and limping, as dying not with a bang but a whimper. They show up as surging and poor running that quickly gets worse, and then become terminal. Ignition problems, on the other hand, typically start as a misfire that may last for the rest of the trip, or as immediate mortality with little warning.

“How long had you been driving? Was the car warmed up yet? Was there any surging or weakness before the ‘pop’ occurred?” I asked.

“No, it just popped and went dead. I’d been driving for about 20 minutes” he replied. This led me away from a fuel pump failure (sometimes common on cars that sit a lot—the pumps themselves and the associated relays, etc.).

“Are you in a safe spot?” I asked, paraphrasing the first line of most 9-1-1 call operator’s scripts. The good news was that this was a ’71 911 with manual everything, so having the engine lose life does not cause lots of other “maneuverability” problems, and my friend was able to easily coast to a safe spot on a side street.

“I’ve called a tow truck,” Steve said, which could have ended our need for a discussion right then and there, but I don’t often back down from an automotive challenge.

“Let’s try to diagnose it while you’re waiting,” I said, since I presumed that he had nothing better to do at the moment. Captive audiences are the best.

“Sure, I’m game” came the reply. And so we began.

Engines need three things to start: Fuel, spark, and compression created by at least about 60 revs per minute of rotation (whether it is provided by a starter, a roll-start, or the explosion of a gun shell in one cylinder—see Coffman starter—an engine does not care). Compression failures rarely happen to all cylinders at once, so roadside failures of this sort seldom occur. “Does the engine crank over?”

“Yes,” Steve responded. So, the battery has charge and the pistons should be making compression.

“Crank the engine for ten seconds with the throttle wide open,” came my first instruction, invoking my 10-second rule for cranking dead engines; starters get real hot real fast with dead-cranking. “Then stick your nose right up to the tail pipe and tell me if you smell gas.” No spark will mean raw gas will be sent out the exhaust system, unburnt, and will be easy to detect with a good sniffer. No fuel will mean the exhaust smells “dry.” This applies to carbureted and fuel-injected engines alike. The wide open throttle moves the most air to get any unburnt gases to the tailpipe with the least cranking.

I heard the phone being tossed onto the seat, some muffled rustling, and then the sweet sound of an air-cooled six-cylinder being cranked over at brisk rpm, but no combustion. More rustling and Steve came back on the line. “I smell gas at the tailpipe,” he reported. “Is that good?”

“Fuel pump and carbs are working,” I said. “It’s probably your ignition.” We had compression, we had fuel, and the immediate stopping of the engine was confirming where we were going with our diagnosis. The battery was good, so the ignition system should be getting juice as well. Now it was time to look at the hardware that makes and delivers the missing sparks. I instructed him to open his engine lid and look for the ignition distributor.

“What’s it look like?” came the reply. So began a game of Clue using verbal instructions. My buddy was a smart guy. We could do this. Like a movie scene where a surgeon guides a layperson in removing a burst appendix over a phone line, we dug in.

“Look for a black thingy on the engine that has seven black wires coming out of it.”

“Like an octopus?” he asked.

“Yes, an irregular octopus,” I said. “A septopus.”

“Hmm. I think I found it.”

“Six black wires in a circle and one in the middle?”

“Yessir! Now grab the head of the septopus firmly and wiggle it.” Words I had never spoken in my 60 years of language. “Is it loose, or pretty solid?” This was the beginning of finding any problems with the distributor. If wires are not connected or parts are loose, issues arise.

“Solid,” came his reply. So the distributor cap itself was in place and probably not the culprit. I contemplated having him pop off the cap to go deeper into the rotor button and points, which are prone to problems, especially with modern off-shore parts. However, I remembered the golden rule of diagnostics: Look for the simple problems first. So, I kept it simple.

“Find the septopus’s center wire and follow it to a small, black soup can thingy somewhere on the engine,” I said. Losing one cylinder from one bad spark plug wire would have kept him running on five cylinders, but he had a total failure of all cylinders at once, and we had already determined that he had fuel flow, so I suspected it might be the ignition coil.

“I found it, the small soup can thing is on the cooling fan shroud.”

“Is the soup can hot?” I asked—one symptom of a fried coil.

“No, warm but not hot.”

“Press the black wire deeper into the coil. Is it loose? Check the other end as well.” Again, all cylinders dying at once meant that all the sparking was not getting to any of the plugs.

“Both are good.”

I was running out of cards to play but asked the next question with expectation. “There will be two small wires going to either side of the soup can, like an old dry-cell battery. Do you see these?” Luckily Steve is over 40 years old and knows what a dry-cell battery looks like.

“Yes,” he said.
“How do they look? Tug on them to make sure they are connected.”

“One is connected, the other one is loose.”

Bingo! Houston, we found our problem. A previous mechanic or owner had used a crimp connection on the wire’s terminal end, without adding soldering and covering it with heat-shrink tubing. For a mission-critical wire such as this, and one that lives in an open engine bay with moisture and dirt, this was unforgiveable.

“Do you have any tools on you, like pliers?”

“This is the one time I left the house without my toolkit,” Steve said. “I was just going for a 30-minute drive.”

“Well, that’s your problem. You can stuff the wire back into the crimp connector, but it may just wiggle loose again. It needs to be soldered and covered with heat shrink. Maybe the tow truck driver can help you when he arrives.”

And that is just what happened. A simple re-insertion of the wire and a quick crimp with the tow driver’s pliers got my friend back on the road. The tow was not consummated, and a crisis was avoided.

Now my friend is watching YouTube videos on how to solder so he can fix the wire’s end correctly, himself. Welcome to the ‘fix it yourself’ club, Steve. Bask in the accomplishment of reversing a seemingly desperate situation with a little Yankee know-how. But keep that Hagerty Roadside number nearby. It sounds like your fuel pump is whining a little too loudly…

***

Check out the Hagerty Media homepage so you don’t miss a single story, or better yet, bookmark it. To get our best stories delivered right to your inbox, subscribe to our newsletters.

The post True tales of a roadside diagnosis by phone appeared first on Hagerty Media.

Rationalization was the name of the game in the British car industry during the 1960s. It had already seen the huge BMC (British Motor Corporation) merge with Jaguar in 1966, and then Jaguar boss William Lyons was faced with slimming down a range of four separate sedans into a single model. This is where the XJ came into the equation and became the backbone of the sporting luxury firm.

Plans for the XJ were already afoot in the early 1960s. Lyons, ever the astute businessman, knew it made more sense to have a single model that served multiple purposes. He was also a dab hand at using as many parts as possible across the whole spread of Jaguar models, so the E-Type benefitted from a new dash as development of the XJ continued. The E-Type also served as a test bed for the company’s V-12 engine, which would land in the XJ in 1972.

The XJ6 arrived in 1968 and replaced the 240/340, S-Type, and 420 in a single swoop. The vast 420G sedan lingered in the sales charts until 1970, but few bought this model when there was a long-wheelbase XJ6L on offer with four more inches of rear legroom than the standard XJ6. Inside, the XJ had all the wood and leather expected of a Jaguar, and customers could add luxuries such as air conditioning, electric windows, and Sundym glass (which was standard on the most opulent Vanden Plas version).

Power for the XJ6 was another of Lyons’ cost-conscious decisions, as he stuck with the XK straight-six engines, even though the V-12 was in the pipeline and he could have opted for the V-8 engines that came as part and parcel of Jaguar’s acquisition of Daimler. However, the smallest 2.4-liter XK engine was passed over in favor of a 2.8-liter version as the entry point to the XJ range. It was aimed at tax-wary company drivers, but its 140 hp was enough to take the XJ from rest to 60 mph in a decent 11 seconds and on to 117 mph. It was the 180 hp 4.2-liter engine, however, that made the XJ the prestige express it was meant, with 0–60 mph coming in 8.8 seconds and a top speed of 124 mph. When the 5.3-liter V-12 arrived in 1972, it provided 253 hp for 140 mph and 0–60 in 7.4 seconds, making the XJ the fastest four-seat sedan in the world.

In 1973, Jaguar updated the XJ6 as the Series 2, with a slimmer grille and revised dash. Two years after this, a 3.4-liter six arrived as the entry-level engine and Jaguar added a two-door coupe to the lineup as the XJ12C, with 4.2-liter versions of the coupe also offered. For the U.K. market, the six-cylinder engines resolutely stuck with carburetors, even though U.S.-spec cars gained fuel injection. Jag did give the V-12 injection, though, which boosted power to 285 hp, even if fuel economy remained at a sobering 13.2 mpg. The only other significant change for the S2 was a 1977 swap from the BorgWarner three-speed automatic gearbox to a GM400.

The Series 3 XJ came on stream in 1979 with a higher roofline but overall sleeker looks. This restyle was by Pininfarina and the first time a Jaguar had been shaped outside of the factory gates. Flush door handles, impact-absorbing bumpers, updated interior, and revised lights all gave the XJ a new lease on life that would see the XJ12 last all the way until 1992, with power up to 295 hp. The 3.4- and 4.2-liter models lasted until 1987, when the new XJ40 generation was launched, and by then Jaguar’s rational approach had paid off handsomely, with almost three quarters of a million Series 1/2/3 XJs produced.

What’s an XJ like to drive?

At its launch in 1968, the XJ6 was hailed as the best car in the world, which certainly upset Rolls-Royce when the upstart XJ cost a third of what you’d pay for a Silver Shadow. The reason for the XJ’s rapturous welcome was not down to its supreme value, but because it really was brilliant. It covered uneven ground in a way that left its occupants unaware of how poor the surface was, and noise was filtered out thanks to the use of subframes that isolated the cabin from exterior interference. There was also plenty of insulation to ensure the lusty XK and then V-12 engines remained but a distant whirr, even when being worked hard.

Today, the XJ still ranks as one of the most refined ways to travel, though you will notice a bit of wind noise around the front pillars compared to modern luxury cars. However, the fact this range of XJs bears comparison with far newer machinery speaks volumes about how good it was when new. So long as the Jaguar’s suspension and subframe bushes are all in good condition, it will be a delight all the way up to autobahn pace.

You’ll also find a good XJ handles very well, though the steering is generously assisted and doesn’t offer a huge amount of feedback. This is far from a deal breaker in a luxury sedan and, next to a Rolls-Royce Silver Shadow, the XJ feels positively compact and nimble. Strong disc brakes all around help the Jag stop well, while the three-speed automatic gearbox should be smooth. There are more manual-transmission cars around than you’d imagine, as autos were not the default choice for many buyers in the 1970s, and they make for a very capable sporting sedan. If you find a manual XJ with the optional overdrive fitted, it is also a great high-speed cruiser.

If your wallet can bear the strain of fueling the 5.3-liter V-12, it’s a beguiling choice in the XJ. Peerlessly smooth, effortlessly powerful, and elegantly refined, the V-12 propels the Jag with ease and calm. This isn’t to say the six-cylinder cars are gruff—they most definitely are not, and a 4.2-liter XJ will keep pace with the V-12 in most situations.

No matter which engine you decide on, the XJ’s cabin is one of the best to spend time in. The mix of materials and ambience are very 1960s, even in the later S3s, but with more comfort. Rear legroom in the shorter wheelbase models can be a consideration if you’re going four-up with adults in all seats, but the long wheelbase addresses this issue admirably. There’s also a big, albeit shallow, boot, so longer trips are one of the XJ’s fortés.

How much does an XJ cost?

Buying a Series 1, 2, or 3 Jaguar XJ need not break the bank, as you can still find running and driving six-cylinder sedans from around the $5000 mark. The Series 1 cars are the rarest at this point and the most valuable when in good condition. The Series 2 cars are more numerous but are the least valuable of the three series. The Series 3 is the most common but increasingly gaining in value, with a condition 1 (Concours) average value of $39,400.

The greatest variation is in the values of the Series 2 cars. Figure around $9000 for a Series 2 six-cylinder sedan, while the six-cylinder coupes are more desirable and valued at $19,200 in good condition. Among the 12-cylinder S2 cars, a sedan in good condition is about $12,000, and the V-12 coupe is $24,600 in good condition.

Moving on to the Series 3, the car is more than twice as numerous on Hagerty policies as the Series 2, despite the absence of a coupe. Also, the V-12 was not officially imported into the U.S., but some are being brought in from Canada and other countries. Recently, exceptional S3 XJ6s have sold well, and price guide values are up nearly 60 percent in the past three years. The condition 1 value for a 1987 XJ6 Vanden Plas is now $40,500, although that value is a couple thousand below where it was a year ago.

Many XJs have been converted to a GM V-8 engine by now. While this conversion has many benefits, the everyday usability that is gained by the conversion puts a brake on its potential appreciation as a collector car. Occasionally, cars are also converted to manual transmissions. However, they should not be confused with the rare factory-built manual transmission cars. Make sure you know what you are getting.

What goes wrong and what should you look for when buying an XJ?

Regardless of what year XJ you are thinking of buying, body condition is the number one consideration. These are large, complex cars that can be fiendishly expensive to restore if rust has taken hold. You can get a lot of panels to replace crusty ones, but they can be costly, so a rotten car can quickly become a financial rabbit hole.

All of the usual rot spots are where you need to check with the XJ. This means getting on your hands and knees to inspect the inner and outer sills and their closing panels, front and rear valances, floor pans, chassis rails, door bottoms, wheel arches, bumpers and supports, and fuel tanks. You’ll also need to check the front fenders around the headlamp surrounds, the hood and its hinges, door pillars, sunroof edges, and the crossmember beneath the radiator in the engine bay. When all that’s done, you still need to have a look at the trunk lid and spare wheel well for any signs of corrosion, and around the windshield and rear glass. Rot in the subframes and rear suspension radius arms will need the car on an lift, so it’s worth putting in the effort.

The complex independent rear suspension is expensive to rebuild properly, and it comes with in-board rear disc brakes. Any knocks or feeling of looseness at the rear points to wear, so budget for all new rubber bushings. The same applies to any vague sensation from the front suspension and steering.

The good news is that the engines and transmissions are robust. XK straight-six engines use a little oil in normal use, so don’t fret about that. However, make sure the timing chain is not rattling. Also check the engine has had regular oil and coolant changes with the correct fluids, as this motor can become clogged up and result in overheating and blown head gaskets.

The V-12 lasts very well, but the timing chain, oil, and coolant need to be checked just as with the XK. Any oil leak from the V-12 is most likely from the rear main seal, and this is a common issue on the XK motor, too.

Poor gear shifts with the automatic gearboxes are most likely due to them needing a fluid change, or the transmission mount’s rubber bushing has perished. Replacing both of these items should quickly restore the XJ’s smoothness.

With so much wood and leather inside an XJ’s cabin, it pays dividends to find a car with a well-cared-for cabin. Leather can be treated and re-colored at home if it’s not badly cracked or split, but wood veneers generally need the attention of a professional to restore their luster. When checking the interior, make sure all of the electrics work, and the air conditioning, too, if fitted.

Which is the right XJ for you?

The three series of Jaguar XJ each have their own distinct looks and, consequently, their own fans. Which appeals to you is down to taste. However, for those less fussed about this, the S3 offers the most opulent cabin, better build quality when new, and more efficient engines. The S3 is also the most numerous XJ of this group, making it more affordable and easier to find.

The Series 2 XJ was the unloved sibling for a long time, overlooked for its associations with the strife of the Leyland period of ownership in the 1970s. Now, it’s coming into its own, helped along by the enthusiasm for the coupe version based on the S2. For some, though, the purity of the S1 will always win out as its cabin is the near-perfect blend of traditional Jaguar charm and modern usability.

When it comes to engine choice, many are lured in by the smoothness of the V-12 and its status as the ultimate version of the XJ. That said, on a long journey, the difference between the official combined economy figures for the Series 3 V-12’s 16 mpg and the 4.2’s 22 mpg adds up to quite a saving.

So, find a clean example, inspect it closely, then enjoy the sporting luxury this well-loved Jaguar sedan has to offer.

***

Check out the Hagerty Media homepage so you don’t miss a single story, or better yet, bookmark it. To get our best stories delivered right to your inbox, subscribe to our newsletters.

The post The XJ was the perfect Jaguar at the perfect time appeared first on Hagerty Media.

In this Ultimate Drag Race, Hagerty video host Jason Cammisa decided to pit the legendary Porsche-built Mercedes-Benz 500E against the fastest wagons in the world: the E34 BMW M5 Touring and the Audi RS2 Avant, which was also built by Porsche!

He’s joined by Sports Car Club of America hall-of-fame racer Randy Pobst, and the results are surprising. Will the Mercedes’ four-speed automatic kill its chances against the two other manuals—a five-speed in the M5 and a six-speed in the Audi? And what’s with the six-cylinder E320 dogleg manual wagon and its DOHC 24V 3.2-liter straight-six?

The 3.8-liter S38 is the biggest straight-six BMW has ever made, and it produced 335 hp at an insane, independent-throttle-body-screaming 6900 rpm. The Audi’s much-smaller 2.2-liter, 20-valve turbo five-cylinder made 311 hp, and the 5.0-liter quad-cam, DOHC 32-valve Mercedes V-8 made 322 hp. But! It had variable valve timing so it hammered the others on torque.

The next question is: Can any of these 1990s legends keep up with today’s slowest sports car, the Mazda MX-5? You’ll be surprised by the outcome.

***

Check out the Hagerty Media homepage so you don’t miss a single story, or better yet, bookmark it. To get our best stories delivered right to your inbox, subscribe to our newsletters.

The post Just how fast are the fastest five-seaters of the ’90s? appeared first on Hagerty Media.

When it debuted in late 1970, the Toyota Celica was aimed squarely at drivers. Ignoring for a moment the exclusive 2000 GT, the distinction is important, because to that point Toyota customers had strictly been in it for the econobox Corollas and slightly upscale but no less economical Coronas that had been populating American roads for half a decade. Based on the staid Carina sedan, the Celica was something altogether new for Toyota—a stylish, sporty little notchback coupe the company viewed as its answer to the Ford Mustang. Which is to say, a fun car built atop a boring one. Power came from a series of four-cylinder engines, and body styles eventually included a hatchback, or liftback, in Toyota parlance.

With its long flat nose and laid-back roofline, the second-generation Celica furthered the car’s sporty pretensions. In an effort to pit it against the Datsun 280ZX, in 1979 Toyota fitted the Celica with a single-overhead-cam 2.6-liter inline-six and added Supra badging to help distinguish it as something more than sporty. A proper sports car, even. But it wasn’t quite that. The Celica Supra was too luxurious, too lifeless on the road, and too ambiguous to be great. In its August 1979 review, Road & Track dismissed it as “nothing but a boulevard GT.”

Thankfully for enthusiasts, Toyota kept at it, and the next Celica Supra, internally designated A60, debuted in 1982 as a completely different beast, all hard edges and sharp corners, with pop-up headlights and a cockpit that absorbed its passengers. By this point the company had perfected the twin-cam six, and the 150-hp 2.8-liter unit fitted in the Supra was silky smooth. So, too, were the Supra’s road manners, thanks to a fully independent suspension and four-wheel disc brakes. “The new Supra is a nearly perfect car,” wrote Car and Driver’s David E. Davis at the time.

As nearly perfect Supras go, our Sale of the Week is right up there. This 36,000-mile 1983 model sold via Bring A Trailer on September 27 for $24,250.

The Supra, in Super White over a Terra Cotta cloth interior, lived most of its life in New York with a long-term owner who clearly babied it. The seller (who was offering the car through a broker with the BAT handle The_Dude_Abides) owned it for less than a year and in that time correctly refinished the bumpers, side mirrors, and rear wing, as well as the right-rear lower quarter panel the left inner-door jamb. Slight damage was noted on the right rocker panel. The car came with a fair amount of paperwork, including original purchase documents, and one video depicted the pop-up headlights in perfect working order.

Original equipment includes that 5M-GE twin-cam inline-six and a five-speed manual, along with a limited-slip differential, 14-inch alloy wheels, a sunroof, and 8-way power seats. (The seats and the aggressive flared fiberglass wheel arches, it should be noted, are two elements that distinguish the P-type A60 Supra from the less desirable L-type.) In the comments, The Dude did note that there was no record of a timing belt change ever having been done, and that the seller would replace the car’s aged tires for the buyer.

Hagerty values these cars at around $36,600 for a #1 (Concours) example, and $22,100 for one in #2 (Excellent) condition, and it is the latter where this Supra seems to fall, and more likely in #2+ range. The very first comment when the listing went live said, “This will go right through $30k.” The very last comment, when the bidding was at $24,250 not five minutes before the auction closed, was posted by the same commenter: “It’s about to get real. Buckle up.” Clearly, someone was waiting for the heavens to part over this Supra, but it just didn’t happen. The auction closed with a whimper, not a bang. Which is great news for the buyer.

Past BAT sales of A60 Supras have seen them go for much higher, including a 63,000-mile ’86 that made $45,000 earlier in the month. Back in March, a different ’86 with 92,000 miles, minor rust, and curb-rashed wheels sold for the same money as our feature car.

But was this Supra a steal? Well, since real-world sales involve enough variables (like that biggie, emotion) to disconnect them somewhat from price guide figures, it’s easy to make the case that it certainly could have gone for more, even a lot more. Conversely, one could also argue that the noted minor rocker damage and the needed timing belt replacement put this car right where it should be. We’re going to err on the side of bargains, however. Because it appears that very soon, this Supra will indeed go for more, as the buyer is not the end user here but is instead a broker of classic cars to the Middle East. The Supra is already listed for $35,000 on his Instagram sales page. Assuming he does indeed sell it on for that price, the $24,250 BAT result was absolutely a steal—and a tidy profit.

Let’s just hope whoever ultimately ends up with this crisp Supra services that timing belt and then enjoys the heck out of it for years to come.

***

Check out the Hagerty Media homepage so you don’t miss a single story, or better yet, bookmark it. To get our best stories delivered right to your inbox, subscribe to our newsletters.

The post Was this 1983 Toyota Supra a steal? appeared first on Hagerty Media.

Good news today for fans of tube-shaped meat: Following a springtime rebrand as Frankmobiles, Oscar Mayer, the Chicago-based purveyor of 100 percent beef hot dogs and other pressed meat products made from parts people don’t like to talk about, has changed the name of its classic road-going marketing machines back to Wienermobiles—the name they held for 87 years.

The name change to Frankmobiles back in May coincided with a new recipe, rumored to be made from 500 percent beef—but certainly not from people named Frank. Feeling very much like a Coke-to-New Coke moment for many connoisseurs of the classic American sandwich burrito things, the name change was a betrayal of all they held dear. Our colleague, Eric Weiner, had his own, quite understandable misgivings. Now, in a tectonic shift not seen since the clever New Coke-to-Coca-Cola Classic pivot, the Frankmobile badging is gone and the Wienermobile rides again.

“I’ve got no meat in the game,” said one local hot dog vendor who exclusively sells foot-longs and jumbos from Nathan’s, “but the universe feels whole again. Oscar’s a leader in the industry, and you can’t have this kind of confusion. It just makes folks seek out alternatives, like brats, and that’s good for nobody.”

Oscar Mayer revealed the change back to Wienermobiles in an Instagram post on September 27, where one of the vehicle’s drivers, known as a Hotdogger, called her time with the Frankmobile “franking righteous.” “But like many of you,” added another Hotdogger, “we missed our American icon.” Rarely has one person spoken so much truth for an entire nation.

Order restored, then. And if you’re keen to get your hands on one of these new 900 percent all-beef hot dogs, or you simply want to plan your vacation around seeing the coolest wieners on wheels (there are six of the 23-footers out there, after all), Oscar Mayer makes it easy.

Now, what’s for lunch?

***

Check out the Hagerty Media homepage so you don’t miss a single story, or better yet, bookmark it. To get our best stories delivered right to your inbox, subscribe to our newsletters.

The post Frankenstein on Wheels: Don’t worry, Oscar Mayer came to its senses appeared first on Hagerty Media.

Since 2016, the nonprofit Drive Toward a Cure has raised more than $1 million to support research and patient care for those suffering from Parkinson’s Disease. As the summer driving season comes to a close, the organization has concluded its fourth annual 75 Days of Summer nationwide fundraising program, which ran from Father’s Day to Labor Day. The program encourages like-minded driving enthusiasts to join the fight against the neurodegenerative disease that affects nearly one million Americans and 10 million people worldwide.

The 75 Days of Summer program evolved during the early days of the global pandemic, as Drive Toward a Cure searched for creative fundraising ideas unbound by lockdowns or social distancing. Hagerty got on board as a sponsor and has remained committed for each successive summer. To date, the program alone has raised nearly $150,000.

Entrants in the 75 Days of Summer compete to drive the most miles and raise the most funds to earn prizes. There are also weekly random drawings that further build momentum and incentivize participation. Grand prizes are awarded to those entrants with the highest combination of dollars raised and miles driven. This year, 20 Formula SAE university teams joined the challenge, and four students were among the Grand Prize winners.

Grand prizes awarded to entrants with the highest combination of dollars raised and miles driven were provided by Radford Racing School, Michelin Tires, Katzkin Leather Interiors, NCM Motorsports Park, XtremeXperience and Grand Prix Originals USA.

“We created an ongoing interactive experience that has become an easy way individuals, clubs, groups, and organizations can partake and feel like they’re supporting a worthy cause,” says Drive Toward a Cure founder Deb Pollack. “We’ve been fortunate to creatively engage so many of our car family members in supporting our efforts nationwide.”

This year’s Grand Prize winners included Caleb Arena, Chassis Lead for Georgia Tech Motorsports, part of the Formula SAE program. He drove 11,533 miles over the summer and won a One-Day Performance Driving Course at Radford Racing School in Phoenix. Second place was Clinton Quan, of Encino, California, who topped his own documented mileage from last year, clocking in at 9095 miles and raising an additional $500 to earn a set of Michelin Tires. And Vivian Chen, a member of Princeton University’s Formula SAE team who spent the summer in Lansing, Michigan, as an electrical engineering intern on the manufacturing team for General Motors, claimed third place by driving more than 6000 miles. She’ll receive a Katzkin Leather Interior transformation. In all, more than $15,000 worth of giveaways were awarded through the program, which is set to return in 2024. Watch this space for details.

The post Another successful Drive Toward a Cure fundraiser for Parkinson’s comes to a close appeared first on Hagerty Media.

Last year, we ran a feature for Insider on a 1952 MG TD titled “There Will Always Be An MG TD.” David Zenlea, who wrote the piece, was not wrong; with nearly 30,000 built over four years, and almost 80 percent of them shipped to our shores, they’re around, and so are the parts to keep them going.

Of course, today the TD is nobody’s idea of quick, but they’ve always been nimble and charming, and they succeeded brilliantly at getting Americans hooked on small, lithe sports cars from across the Atlantic. The car from the 2022 story sold for $17,850, “about the right money for what looks like a driver-condition TD,” Zenlea wrote. He went on to lay out his thesis: When adjusted for inflation, TDs cost today roughly what they did a decade ago—and a quarter-century ago, and a half-century ago. For investment-minded collectors, such a trajectory isn’t so attractive. “For us, however, it’s a reminder that some things never change, and a welcome sign that not all fun classics are appreciating out of reach.”

Our Sale of the Week is a very different 1952 MG TD, and it is easy to appreciate just how fast this fun classic can indeed get out of reach. The car sold on Bring A Trailer on September 6; between 2:45 p.m. and the auction’s end 58 minutes later, 42 back-and-forth bids took it from $35,000 to its selling price—$92,000.

“Not your grandpa’s MG,” one person said in the comments. No, no it is not.

The seller acquired the TD in 2007 and immediately transformed it into what he called a “resto-rod.” From a distance, even from a few feet, the car looks like every other TD you’ve ever seen, and quite fetching in its dark green paint over a tan interior. Only when your eyes fall on the tires, fat BFGoodrich G-Force Sports on 16-inch steel wheels, do you begin to wonder. “Almost looks stock,” said another commenter, “except for the big meats on the corners and the two bazookas jutting from the rear.” Right, those. What better outlet for the 383 V-8 handily tucked up front, eh?

The engine is a stroked Chevy small-block fitted with Edelbrock fuel injection and sending all of its noise to those bazookas through custom headers. The V-8 is backed by a Tremec TKO five-speed transmission, and its prodigious power (undisclosed, but c’mon) is translated to said tires through a Salisbury Power Lock differential. A Jaguar independent rear suspension holds up the back end and a Chassisworks independent suspension maneuvers the front, with Wilwood disc brakes all around to put a stop to this thing. Kirkey aluminum racing seats are tastefully upholstered in vinyl—and heated, too!—and there’s even a pair of cupholders just ahead of the shifter. A removable roll bar bolts in.

“This guy wins,” wrote another commenter. “I don’t care what the contest is, he wins.” More digging through the comments confirms that claim, in fact, because it turns out the seller, “RaceFace,” once built a 1953 Studebaker into a land speed racer called “The Guam Bomb,” took it to Bonneville, and on his first run earned himself a spot in the “200 Club.” If you squint, you can juuust make out a small blue oval sticker in the lower right corner of the TD’s windshield attesting to the fact: “Bonneville 200mph Club Life Member.” There are bonafides baked into this retro-rod TD, in other words. The seller knew exactly what he wanted to build, he knew exactly how to build it, and he built it, exactly.

These cars continue to sell well; despite the number of TDs offered for sale at auction doubling from 2017 to 2022, sell-through rates shot up in the same period, from 72 to 82 percent. It would seem we can’t get enough of them, though certainly it helps that average prices continue to hover around the fairly accessible $21,000 mark.

All that said, there is absolutely nothing average about this TD. The price paid—the fourth highest ever for a TD and firmly in the top 100 MG sales of all time—seems like a just reward for a job well done. RaceFace—and Mrs. RaceFace, who gleefully joined in the comments herself—should be over the moon with this result. And the buyer, who very clearly wanted this car, can have no complaints. With just 4000 miles on the odo since the build, this 1952 MG TD is barely broken in. From stoplight to stoplight, from turn to turn, it should put itself—and its giggling new owner—quite easily out of reach of all comers for a very long time.

***

Check out the Hagerty Media homepage so you don’t miss a single story, or better yet, bookmark it. To get our best stories delivered right to your inbox, subscribe to our newsletters.

Via Insider

The post This 1952 MG is a wolf in TD clothing appeared first on Hagerty Media.

Don’t need to feel important or famous
No limos or my little Nash car
One lucky man
With my feet in the sand
Tonight I just need my guitar

In the wake of the passing of legendary troubadour and businessman Jimmy Buffett at the start of Labor Day weekend, hundreds of thousands of words have been written about him, his legacy, his music, and the escapism his songs and concerts brought to millions, from toddlers to great-grandparents.

It’s been reported in dozens of stories that Buffett, along with his friend and fellow singer-songwriter, Jerry Jeff Walker, fixed up Walker’s 1947 Packard and then headed south from Coconut Grove, presumably on Florida’s A1A highway. A1A ends at mile-marker Zero, right next to the water, in Key West. Jimmy stayed in Key West, while Jerry Jeff returned to Coconut Grove.

But Buffett had a few other cars along the way, and, because Buffett was a storyteller, it should come as no surprise there are stories attached to each one.

Fellow journalist Terry Boyce posted his reminiscences on social media shortly after Buffett’s death: “Although we never met Jimmy Buffett, we did long ago play a small part in helping him obtain an example of his high-school car, a 1963 Ford Falcon Sprint Convertible.

“It was in January 1983, while I was working as Editor of Classic Sixties magazine for Dobbs Publications in Florida, that Buffett’s friend, the late photographer, author and publisher Tom Corcoran, contacted us. He was looking to help the singer/songwriter find a Falcon Sprint Convertible like the one he’d driven as a teenager.

“A sportier and scarcer version of the 1963 Falcon Futura Convertible, the “1963-1/2” Sprint, with its V-8 engine and bucket-seat interior, was a real “Classic Sixties” type of car. We quickly put together a brief notice for the February 1983 issue. Quoting Buffett through our conversation with Corcoran, it asked the readership to be on the lookout for such a convertible. A photo of Buffett seated in a 1966 Mustang and waving a fistful of cash was also provided by Corcoran, who photographed album covers for the singer.

“We received a letter from Oregon reader and Falcon enthusiast Ron Boesl, advising us that he’d found a Falcon Sprint Convertible for Jimmy—who had inspected it at Boesl’s home in Portland, before calling later to confirm he was purchasing the car. The following evening, after the deal was done, Boesl and the Sprint’s newly former owner, Andy Pass, also of Portland, were Buffett’s guests at Buffett’s concert in Portland, a memorable conclusion to an amazing couple of days.

“We ran Ron’s account of meeting Jimmy Buffett and arranging for him to view the Falcon Sprint he’d go on to purchase as a letter-to-the-editor in the April 1983 issue of Classic Sixties. Ron also provided a photo of him with the famed musician and Boesl’s own Falcon Futura convertible, which was similar to the Sprint.”

Seventeen years later, in 2010, Buffett gave the car to Ty Houck, owner of Ragtops Motorcars in Palm Beach, Florida, to sell. Ty consigned the car to the Auctions America sale, held in the Fort Lauderdale Convention Center March 26–28. There was a good bit of presale interest in Buffett’s turquoise-colored ride, mostly unmodified except for a surfboard rack/roll bar contraption that would be covered if the top was up. The car sold for a healthy $39,600. At the time, Hagerty’s Cars That Matter price guide, precursor to the Hagerty Price Guide, listed the car in #2 condition (Excellent) at a value of $28,200.

Ford Falcons seem to be a theme in the Buffett stable, as there are reports of a few others spotted at different times.

The same is true for Porsches. Houck remembers getting a call from Buffett asking for assistance, as he was stranded by the side of the road in a Porsche 356 close to Houck’s place of business in West Palm Beach. By the time Houck arrived, there were multiple fans seeking autographs from the unfazed Buffett. Donny Gould, a senior car specialist at Broad Arrow auctions and a long-standing resident of South Florida, also remembers a red 911 cabriolet with full whale-tail that Buffett drove in the mid-1980s. More Miami Vice than full laid-back Key West, it would be interesting to see where those P-cars are today.

Although I am sure there are other cars that entered and exited the songwriter’s life, this sampling should give anyone a smile knowing that Buffett found fun and satisfaction in the world of old cars.

And that “little Nash car” that Buffett sang about in his song, “Tonight I Just Need My Guitar”? That was a 1958 Nash Metropolitan that Ty Houck sold to Jimmy Buffett many years ago. Resplendent in—what else?—white over turquoise paint, you’d think this would be the perfect mode of vintage motorized transportation in Key West.

Buffett sold the Metro back to Houck years ago, and he sold it on to another collector in Maryland. However, fear not! Houck just called me to let me know that he will be getting the car back on consignment soon.

Interested parties can reach out to him on the Coconut Telegraph. Tell him Dave sent you.

***

Check out the Hagerty Media homepage so you don’t miss a single story, or better yet, bookmark it. To get our best stories delivered right to your inbox, subscribe to our newsletters.

The post Remembering Jimmy Buffett, car guy appeared first on Hagerty Media.

The world hasn’t felt like an easy place to inhabit recently. Environmental concerns, social issues, financial crises—we’ve had the whole lot.

The “positives” column gets another bullet point today, however, as Alfa Romeo has launched the 33 Stradale, a low-slung, limited-run supercar available in both internal-combustion and electric configurations, created for little more reason than Alfa felt like it.

New Alfa Romeo supercars don’t come along too often. The 4C of 2013 knocked on the door of supercardom, having all the right proportions but with a four-cylinder engine, which is not really the powerplant to do the tag justice. And back in 2007, Alfa launched the 8C Competizione, inspired by the 1960s and built on Maserati underpinnings. But that was front-engined and, like the related Maserati GranTurismo, more of a … well, a Gran Turismo.

The 33 Stradale, on the other hand, is a proper, red-blooded supercar. Alfa won’t admit it publicly, but there’s more than likely a Maserati MC20 under there, not just because the two are not dissimilar in proportion, but because the internal-combustion version of the Alfa uses a distinctly similar-sounding 90-degree, twin-turbocharged V-6, with a claimed “more than 620PS” (612 hp) output to the MC20’s 621 hp. Call it about the same on that front. Either way, if the MC20’s a supercar, so too is the 33.

That’s the gas-powered one, obviously, but Alfa intends to build an electric 33 Stradale, too, making 740 hp and running on 800V architecture—again, notably similar numbers to the electric powertrain in the Maserati Folgore sports car, based on the new GranTurismo. It’s all one big happy family out there in northern Italy.

The ICE car is capable of 207 mph or, if you’re on the continent, 333 km/h, which seems more appropriate. The EV’s a little slower, at “more than 193 mph,” while both claim 0-to-62-mph acceleration in under three seconds, which won’t set any records these days but should not be considered anything other than plenty.

The top speed is impressive given Alfa claims a so-so drag coefficient of 0.375, suggesting there’s definitely a focus on style over substance to the 33’s classic, late-1960s 33 Stradale–inspired lines. Weight, meanwhile, is claimed to be under 3300 pounds for the V-6, and under 4600 pounds for the EV. You also get a carbon tub, double-wishbone suspension, and Brembo by-wire carbon-ceramic brakes at all four corners. The wheels are 20 inches in diameter at both ends.

The new 33 is not as small as the 4C, as you might expect for a supercar (a tad over 15 feet long, 6-feet 10-inches wide with the mirrors out, and a touch under 4 feet tall, against the 4C’s 13-foot 1-inch length, same width, and similar height), but Alfa has used every bit of it to draw the eye, from the new interpretation of the company’s “Scudetto” grille design to the front and rear clamshells and top-hinged doors, just like the original.

The interior is stripped back. The owner’s choice of either Tributo or Alfa Corse specification determines the cabin’s trim—aluminum and leather in Tributo, carbon and Alcantara in Alfa Corse. Interior images suggest a Le Mans–style goldfish bowl view out, too, which will only make the experience feel more special.

Alfa has committed to building 33 copies of the 33, and they’ve all been sold already. And given this low-production, high-concept brief, the chances of seeing one out and about seem fairly low. Maybe we could bump the new 33 into the “bad news” column for that, but heck, if a new Alfa supercar isn’t considered good news, we’re all really in trouble.

***

Check out the Hagerty Media homepage so you don’t miss a single story, or better yet, bookmark it. To get our best stories delivered right to your inbox, subscribe to our newsletters.

The post The 33 Stradale is Alfa’s latest supercar, and it’s about time, too appeared first on Hagerty Media.

Back in 1981, if you’d asked Saddam Hussein if he had weapons of mass destruction, he would have told you “yes” and pointed at the stockpile of 12,500 desert-spec’d G-body Malibus just in from Canada.

The government of Iraq ordered 25,000 Malibus in total, which were officially invoiced as taxis. After the first shipment, however, Iraq backed out of the $100 million deal. The government cited massive reliability problems as the reason for canceling the order.

The build sheet was basic but intriguing: Four-door sedan; 3.8-liter V-6; three-speed manual 200-km/h speedometer; cloth bench seats; steel wheels with polished center caps; uprated four-core radiator; heavy-duty suspension; AM/FM radio with cassette; air conditioning (because it’s hot in Iraq); and rear defrost delete (because it’s not cold in Iraq).

Instead of soaking up the sun and sand, however, the remaining Malibus sat for months at the snowy docks in Halifax, Nova Scotia, as General Motors was left pondering what to do with them. Eventually, they were distributed to Canadian Chevrolet dealers and sold off. Cheap.

Despite the criticisms doled out by Saddam’s government, GM workers insisted that the Malibus were well made. In fact, many of those workers tried to purchase the cars. There was such a high demand from GM employees that their union threatened to launch a class action lawsuit against the company for not ensuring a fair allotment of Iraqi Malibus to workers who had already submitted deposits.

Ultimately, the $6500 price point made these desert Chevys appealing workhorses, which, like most cars of that era, were all but run into the ground. The surviving Iraqi-spec Malibus have gained a reputation in Canada and today are affectionately known as “Iraqi Taxis.”

This one belongs to my dad.

His Iraqi Taxi has been souped up, but aside from the lumpy V-8, it still retains the unmistakable feature set of the Iraqi Taxis. At just over 30,000 original kilometers (18,640 miles), it may be one of the cleanest examples out there.

The previous owner and backyard hot-rod mechanic, known locally in southern Ontario as “Malibu Mike,” meticulously restored the car. It had sat for a number of years in storage before Mike got into it and replaced the tired and lethargic V-6 with a 350-cubic-inch V-8 that he modified with a high-lift cam, roller rockers, a 4.56:1 Posi rear end, and a 3000-rpm torque converter. Then, reluctantly, he sold the Malibu to my dad in order focus on other projects.

At every car show Dad and I attend in Ontario, at least one person knows something about these Malibus and their contribution to Canadian automotive history—the car that wasn’t good enough for Saddam. But were these cheap, barebones taxis really that bad?

The short answer is “yes.” It was the Malaise Era and most cars sucked. The Iraqi Taxis came with a 110-horsepower V-6 and a bargain basement three-on-the-floor manual.

The long answer is more complicated, because Saddam Hussein was in the middle of a costly war with Iran, and I’ve got to imagine that fighting the Ayatollah was probably more important than adding another 13,000 taxis to the fleet.

After an Instagram reel of my dad’s Iraqi Taxi went viral, I got connected to a man named Soran Ako—an Iraqi who had previously owned a Malibu taxi in Iraq. Although he now lives in Sweden, Ako was able to provide me with unique Iraqi intel on these “taxis,” which, as it turns out, weren’t actually taxis at all.

During his time as a student in the autonomous Kurdish region of Northern Iraq, Ako acquired his lightly used 1981 Malibu, not from a taxi driver, but from a retired Iraqi sergeant from Saddam’s regime. Despite the invoice submitted to GM Canada listing “Taxi” as the official vehicle classification, it seems these cars were in fact personal gifts for Saddam’s most loyal sergeants.

Although the spec sheet screams “base model,” according to Ako, they were considered Cadillacs compared to the other vehicles patrolling Iraqi streets at the time—mostly worn out military trucks and Soviet-export Ladas. The 3.8-liter V-6 “roared,” Ako said, churning out more than double the torque of anything comparable, and he described the stereo system as “top-notch.” Cranking tunes through the standard four-speaker system was a rare luxury considering most other vehicles in the desert nation had no stereo at all.

In Iraq, these cars were a symbol of the elite. Once sold on from the original sergeants who owned them, they were usually found in the hands of rich kids and local authority figures—and apparently one lucky student. Ako owned his light-blue Malibu for three trouble-free years before fleeing abroad as tensions in Kurdistan escalated to violence. Unfortunately, exporting the Malibu was not an option at the time, and ever since, Ako has been chasing the high that only these utilitarian land yachts could provide. He told me his goal one day would be to get his hands on another Iraqi Malibu—a light blue ’79.

Whether you happen to be in Scandinavia, out on the mean streets of Ontario, or points between, if you encounter a Canadian-made 1981 Malibu with a 200 km/h speedometer, three-speed manual, and no rear defrost, you’ve found a custom Chevrolet built for the henchmen of one of the world’s most notorious dictators. Despite the Iraqi government’s official stance on these cars, the actual owners—Canadians and Iraqis alike—treasure these basic, beefed-up ’Bus.

***

Check out the Hagerty Media homepage so you don’t miss a single story, or better yet, bookmark it. To get our best stories delivered right to your inbox, subscribe to our newsletters.

The post This ’81 Malibu escaped fate as an “Iraqi Taxi” appeared first on Hagerty Media.

The Murciélago hit the road in 2001 as the next installment of all-conquering, scissor-doored supercars from Lamborghini. As a follow-up to the Diablo, the “Murci” was an improvement in every way, thanks in large part to the solid financial footing provided by Lambo’s new German corporate overlord, the Volkswagen Audi Group.

Styled by VAG’s all-star Belgian designer, Luc Donckerwolke, the Murciélago furthered Sant’Agata’s tradition of handsome wedges first set forth in the Countach nearly three decades before. And in keeping with the heritage of Lambo’s flagship models, including that very same Countach, power came from a stonking V-12 longitudinally mounted amidships.

In the Murci, the 6.2-liter mill put out 572 horsepower at a screaming 7500 rpm. A gated six-speed shifter gave drivers analog control of that output, which went to all four wheels through a viscous-coupling center differential and propelled the car to more than 200 mph.

A roadster came along in 2004, and in 2006 Lamborghini upgraded the Murci to the LP-640 variant, in either coupe or roadster guise, boasting 632 hp from 6.5 liters. But 2004 didn’t just mark the introduction of an open car. It also saw Lamborghini enter the era of semi-automatic transmissions, with the E-gear paddle-shift automated manual. This marked a drastic change not only in production but in the way customers spec’d their new Lambos.

Between 2001 and 2006, total worldwide production of the original 6.2-liter Murciélagos came to 1921 cars, and manual coupes accounted for 985 of them—fully 51 percent. By the time the 6.5L LP-640 bowed out in 2010, that variant’s total worldwide production came to 1675 cars. Only 88 coupes—just 5 percent—were fitted with the six-speed manual. Holy shift!

Our Sale of the Week is one such manual-equipped LP-640, a 2007 model that sold August 8 on Cars & Bids for $710,000, a public record for the Murciélago and the most valuable vehicle ever to sell on the platform.

This bull was no spring chicken, either; the odometer shows 49,800 miles, which is practically daily driver territory for a Lambo. Clad in Monterey Blue, it’s not even one of the orange, green, or yellow hues generally regarded as more desirable. So, what gives?

Well, Ed Bolian gives.

You may know Bolian as the guy who rented exotic cars through his dorm-room business in college. Or as the guy who smashed the Cannonball record in a Mercedes CL55 AMG in 2013. Or as cofounder of the vehicle history reporting app VINwiki. More than likely, however, you might know him from his YouTube videos, either under his own name or under the VINwiki banner, which currently boasts about 2 million subscribers. Bolian is smart, passionate, charming, and all about that Murciélago life. More specifically, his bovid fancy tends toward the gated six-speed variety. Until August 8, he owned two manual Murcis. Now he owns three.

And he loves putting miles on them. In fact, the harder they’ve been driven, the more they seem to appeal to him. In the comments on Cars & Bids, he claims to have driven one of his cars from Atlanta to Miami and back—solely to bring its total mileage above the miles on this one.

There’s a reason Hagerty included the Murciélago on its 2023 Bull Market list of cars positioned to gain value in the next year. Particularly the manual versions. At the time of publication in the January issue of Hagerty Drivers Club magazine, we wrote:

The rush to find analog supercars with manual transmissions overlooked the Murciélago. Shifting owner demographics suggest this is slowly changing, but a couple of big sales could change the perception of the Murci quickly. Values for the Murciélago are up 48 percent since 2019 but have lagged behind those of cars like the Porsche Carrera GT, which doubled in value over the same period. As next-generation enthusiasts are a growing share of owners (approaching two-thirds), values for the Murciélago appear poised for more appreciation.

Now in his late 30s, Bolian is very much a next-gen enthusiast. And this was very much a big sale—big enough that it’s hard to see how perception of the Murciélago doesn’t change moving forward. His YouTube following certainly won’t detract from that perception.

Currently, we value LP-640 Murciélagos with the E-gear transmission at $420,000 for a #1, Concours-condition example. This car was far from Concours—and slightly modified—and it still sold for $290,000 over that value, a 70 percent bump. The manual surely accounts for some of that, but even our pricing model for these cars is getting dizzy. By Bolian’s own estimate, had this car been completely original with fewer than 5000 miles, “I am confident it would bring $1.5 million this afternoon.”

That’s a big claim, for sure. But given the rapidly increasing appeal of rapidly decreasing analog supercars, it may not be long before Bolian is right. And it would surprise no one if he writes the check.

***

Check out the Hagerty Media homepage so you don’t miss a single story, or better yet, bookmark it. To get our best stories delivered right to your inbox, subscribe to our newsletters.

Via Insider

The post Is this record-breaking Murciélago a sign of things to come? appeared first on Hagerty Media.

Mark my words: The Tesla Roadster is a likely candidate for a future classic. Why? For the same reason a 2007 iPhone just fetched $190,000 at auction. With a paltry 4GB of storage and almost zero functionality compared to iPhones of today, by any objective assessment it is ludicrously unfit for purpose. Yet it still went for the same sort of money Porsche asks for a 911 Turbo. It was the first of its kind and is now considered an icon as a result.

The Tesla Roadster is arguably an even greater achievement, if somewhat less successful. It made its global debut in 2006, a new car from a new company, and went into production in 2008, pre-dating even the Nissan Leaf, commonly regarded today as the first credible EV from a mainstream motor manufacturer. The Roadster was a pioneering vehicle in the truest sense of the word, a voyage into undiscovered territory whose future, and future influence, was entirely unknown.

And it bombed. Despite initial enthusiasm and no shortage of publicity, fewer than 2500 units were sold over a five-year period as people decided an extremely expensive sports car that made no noise, had no gearbox, and was saddled with a poor range and dreadfully slow charging times was not actually for them after all. And it is only now, over a decade since production stopped, that a few manufacturers are starting to look at the concept of electric sports cars again. Tesla itself has toyed with a follow-up, but production delays have hamstrung its release. The truth is that, conceptually, the Tesla Roadster was wildly ahead of its time, but the technology to support it simply did not exist at the level required for it to become a viable proposition.

Which is not to say it was a terrible car, just rather flawed. When I first drove one I was ready to rubbish it as the car that took one of my favorite machines, the Lotus Elise, and by making it so much heavier and removing all aural sensation from it, stripped most of what I loved about it in the first place.

But actually, I found it fascinating. I think the first surprise was that the car seemed so well engineered. I’d feared the conversion from Lotus Elise to Tesla Roadster would result in a Rube Goldberg contraption of the kind that might make Doc Brown’s DeLorean seem quite well integrated by comparison. In fact, if you’d had no knowledge of its origins, you’d have thought the Roadster had been designed like that from the outset.

And it was fast. Really, properly fast. The very first time I put my foot to the floor was on the start line of the famous Goodwood hill, and instead of being slightly bored as I’d expected, I found myself rather busy and goggling at the rate at which it acquired speed. Of course, today an EV with a 0–60 mph time of less than 4 seconds is nothing to get excited about at all, but 15 years ago, when the only other electric car I’d driven was the execrable G-Wiz quadricycle, it was absolutely astonishing.

And while the Roadster was vastly heavier than the Lotus—by 850 pounds, an enormous amount to add to a flyweight like an Elise—it didn’t turn the handling into a nightmare. Sure, it didn’t react to steering inputs like a fly avoiding a swat any more; it felt a touch more cumbersome and a little less intuitive, but remember this was all relative to the standards of one of the best handling cars of modern times. By any other means, it was just fine. Better than fine, in fact.

Of course, I didn’t have to live with it or book a hotel room just to have somewhere to stay while it charged, but today such matters are less likely to be problematic. Today, far more than then, such a car would be the purest of recreations, taken out for relatively short journeys and then left in the garage on a trickle charger until the next time it was due out.

Those who own them will know their car is not the last word on anything. They will have to suffer the jokes about its creator hating his so much he fired it into space, but it is likely these owners won’t care. It will be part of a much larger collection, a curio if you like, but a fascinating one nonetheless. And remember this: Ten years from now, when EV sports cars are no longer a novelty but the norm, people will look back at the Tesla Roadster and remember it all started right there.

In the U.S., where the vast majority of Tesla Roadsters are located, average sale prices are already above $100,000. Individual auction results have even topped $200,000, and my guess is that they’re only heading in one direction from there. In May, we reported a story on a shipping container with three “barn find” Roadsters inside it. At the time, bidding was up to $500,000; currently it sits at $2 million. There’s a reason Hagerty named the Roadster to its 2022 Bull Market list.

In time, the Tesla Roadster will be seen as that first-generation iPhone is now—not the greatest of its kind, but the origin and, therefore, the most important, too.

The post Tesla’s first car is a true collectible appeared first on Hagerty Media.

I’ve just watched Ridley Scott’s two-and-a-half-hour biographical crime drama House of Gucci for the third time, because I thought for sure I must be missing something. Those Gucci folks sure did love their cars; Fiats, Porsches, Lamborghinis, Maseratis, Bentleys, and Mercedes all play a starring role in the 2021 film. Do you know which car doesn’t have a starring role, or even a bit part, or even a mention by name? The AMC Hornet X Gucci Sportabout. It is nowhere. I can only guess that Scott didn’t want it stealing the limelight from his all-star cast. Or, possibly, Lady Gaga had a strict “NO GUCCI SPORTABOUT” clause in her contract.

Whatever the case, the film world is the poorer for it, because Gucci X Sportabouts are hot right now. Well, one of them is, at least: This 1973 Hornet just sold on Bring A Trailer for $23,100, a record for the model by a factor of two. Bidding opened at $500, then danced around three-figure territory until one person laid down the gauntlet and took it from $2000 to $15,000, serious money for what one might describe as a caricature on wheels.

The Hornet arrived in 1970 as a two-door coupe or four-door sedan, with either six-cylinder or V-8 power. The $2500 Sportabout wagon, with its single rear hatch door, appeared a year later as a practical do-anything-mobile aimed at the lady of the house. Meanwhile, over in Italy, Aldo Gucci was looking to expand the designer brand bearing his name. Obviously AMC was a natural fit, so in 1972, to absolutely crystallize its focus on women buyers, American Motors entered into the unlikeliest of unlikely partnerships. AMC zhuzhed up the 1972 Hornet with the new “Gucci X Sportabout.”

The $141.75 designer package added green carpeting and upholstery in trademark Gucci colors, with seats in green and ivory vinyl, accompanied by green and red stripes. The doors feature green vinyl with ivory inlays, and the headliner is awash in the fashion house’s double-G logo. A total of 4835 Gucci X Sportabouts were sold in 1972–73. This was just the start for AMC, though. The Kenosha carmaker then dove head first into designer-series models, and shortly after introduced a Javelin by Pierre Cardin, a Matador by Oleg Cassini, and the best of the lot, a series of Levi’s cars that included the Gremlin, the Hornet, and the Jeep, all trimmed with a blue denim-like material.

A few years later, Lincoln famously launched its own designer-series cars, with versions of the Continental Mk IV done by Givenchy, Pucci, Cartier, and Bill Blass. But not by Gucci, curiously, who, in the eyes of Lincoln execs, had perhaps devalued itself with America’s lowliest carmaker. Gucci would redeem itself in the eyes of Cadillac with 1978’s “Seville by Gucci.”

But back to this incredible green machine, which the seller acquired in 2022. The original 304-cubic-inch V-8 is said to have been replaced by the previous owner with a 360 V-8, and though true mileage is unknown, the odo shows 13,000 miles. The car is pretty clean, with great chome, clear glass, and nice paint. The door gaps and shutlines are pure ’70s domestic, of course, and overall this Hornet presents in solid #3/#3+ (Good) condition, with some small tears in the headliner, surface rust noted on the undercarriage, and unfortunate holes in the trim between the rear bumper and the car. Several BAT commenters note the rarity of that particular piece and offer up helpful suggestions for repair. Thankfully, the Gucciest interior bits of this Sportabout are relatively unscathed, and the new owner should be proud to show it off from Woodward Avenue to Rodeo Drive.

Five years ago, Mecum sold a regular—that is to say, non-Gucci—six-cylinder woodie Sportabout in period browns and beiges for $11,500, all the money in the world. That sale result aside, in this shape, any other Hornet Sportabout should bring about $5500. A #1 concours example might top $8000. So the seller here should be over the moon. Luxo-heritage has a price, apparently.

Besides, when have you ever seen another one so clean? Or just another one… at all? Certainly not in House of Gucci. Maybe it made the director’s cut.

***

Check out the Hagerty Media homepage so you don’t miss a single story, or better yet, bookmark it. To get our best stories delivered right to your inbox, subscribe to our newsletters.

The post Lipstick on a Hornet: AMC’s Gucci X Sportabout was a weird one appeared first on Hagerty Media.

For all their function, cars are in another sense just huge toys. Everyone’s idea of play differs, but Stefan Lombard happens to enjoy bending images of cars to his will, shifting perspectives to make this or that car look like something else. With that in mind, we hereby present the fictionalized account of Randolph T. Dumple, automotive designer-at-large. –Ed.

***

I’ve been poring over this goldmine of recently discovered stuff, Dumple’s sketchbooks and diaries, devouring it all. What a gift! His was a life of stories and adventure, and while I am still sifting through it all, trying to organize and make sense, just today I was struck by an entry concerning the late Wyoming millionaire James Calhoun III.

That name has been in the news of late because of the bizarre circumstances surrounding a guns-for-lentils deal gone awry in Saskatchewan last fall. It’s an odd exchange no matter how you slice it, but the shady practices in which Calhoun’s eldest son, James IV, engaged—and the legal mire in which he now finds himself—likely mean an end to the Calhoun empire and the liquidation of their fabulous car collection. Scandal!

According to the records at hand, our famed automotive designer, Randy Dumple, was 54 and living in Switzerland when he received a telegram from James Calhoun III: “The oil man of oil men in all Wyoming” is how the Casper Star-Tribune once described this magnate of the American West.

Randy Dumple, in a diary entry dated August 29, 1965, observed thus:

Ferrari enthusiast with too much money … but impeccable taste!

“Love all my Ferraris,” Mr. Calhoun writes in his fan letter to me. “Love love LOVE my 500 Superfast especially.” He goes on, although certainly I don’t care. Love whatever car you want, sir; it’s not one of mine. And yet, curiously, the man has been made aware, all the way over there in the Powder River Basin, of a new Maranello coupe on the horizon for 1966, built on the 275 chassis and with Colombo’s four-liter V-12 to make it go. [Tom] Tjaarda’s 330 GT 2+2 variant is fine, if you like kids—or hate your friends—but a two-seat coupe… now that always holds appeal.

Mr. Calhoun closes: “And I was just hoping you might whip something up special, like what you did for Somoza [Nicaraugan president Antonio Somoza Garcia] with that delightful 375 America of his.”

What a mind, this Dumple. The next day, the seasoned designer drove a borrowed Fiat 500 down to Turin to bother Sergio Pininfarina for details. Randy had by this point in his career designed several Ferraris for enough of the right people, some of whom had Enzo Ferrari’s ear and whispered into it clearly enough or rationally enough or Sicilian enough to convince him it was a good idea to let Randy be Randy, even in Sergio’s shop.

Pininfarina resigned himself to the arrangement, but he practiced a knack for avoiding Randy Dumple around the studio. In his own papers he makes quite clear his feelings: “Quel Dumple è una piccola peste! Come un giornalista che ficca sempre il naso con le sue domande.” [That Dumple is a little pest. Like a reporter always nosing around with his questions.]

So, it was Aldo Brovarone, chief designer at Pininfarina, whom Dumple encountered in the offices of the great design studio on the 30th of August, 1965. Dumple bothered Brovarone, too, of course, but someone had to accommodate him, and it is understood the two men chatted about the upcoming 330 GTC over coffee and gelato at Gelateria Pepino. That, before Dumple folded himself back into the Fiat and returned to Geneva to send Calhoun, the oil man of oil men, his reply:

Mr. Calhoun,

I have just returned from inspecting Pininfarina’s plans for the new 330 GTC and am quite intrigued by your offer. I shall like to take you up on it. Will be in touch with more details and my fee, and once agreed, will supply you with some variations. — RTD

Brovarone recorded his thoughts on their conversation for Sergio Pininfarina, closing his missive with what had become a common refrain whenever Dumple dropped in:

“E ovviamente mi ha assillato ancora una volta per andare in una galleria del vento. Onestamente, Sergio, perché quell’uomo non può farsi gli affari suoi?” [And of course he nagged me once again to get going on a wind tunnel. Honestly, Sergio, why can’t that man just mind his own business?]

It must have been great fodder for Randy Dumple’s ego when he learned, some time in the spring of 1966, that Pininfarina did, in fact, get going on that wind tunnel.

As for the exploration of a custom 330 coupe commissioned by Mr. Calhoun, Dumple supplied the requisite sketches by the end of 1965, and by the following summer, Wyoming’s richest man had himself a new toy to “love love LOVE.”

***

Check out the Hagerty Media homepage so you don’t miss a single story, or better yet, bookmark it. To get our best stories delivered right to your inbox, subscribe to our newsletters. 

The post The Dumple Designs #2: An oil man with impeccable taste appeared first on Hagerty Media.

Bowie hates trucks. Bowie hates cars. Bowie hates vans, riding mowers, Radio Flyer wagons, canister vacuums—pretty much anything with wheels. He is a willful, nervous little terrier mix, and riding in a vehicle generally turns him into a panting, vibrating mess. Bowie sure does love me, though. And maybe even more than me, he loves his ball. So when I tossed it into my 2003 Nissan Xterra last summer and climbed in after it, against his shaky better judgment, Bowie jumped in, too.

“To Canada!” I yelled.

“What have I done?” Bowie said, panting, vibrating.

There’s something to be said for owning a vehicle you love but don’t care about. You’re not actively interested in getting it scratched, dinged, or dented, while at the same time none of those scars will cause you to lose a moment of sleep. This Xterra is losing paint by the flake. Its dumb plastic is faded—or missing entirely. There are layers of rich compost in its shadiest crevices. There are colonies of moss now, too. Outwardly, my Xterra is fast approaching “hunk of crap” territory, and I am grateful to be the steward to take it there. It sure is a champ, though, and I’m even more grateful for the territory to which it has taken me. Like Canada, for instance.

There are a few ways to get there from my home in Oregon. The five-hour straight shot up I-5 is fast and easy, but I’d recently learned about the Washington Backcountry Discovery Route (WABDR), a series of interconnected dirt roads that takes you to Canada the slow, hard way. I could think of no better summer adventure than off-roading to a sleepy international border crossing. I just needed an accomplice. Who’s a good boy?

With the Xterra’s trademark rear-hatch first-aid kit fully stocked, some beer and steaks in the cooler, camping and recovery gear packed into the cargo area and onto the roof, off we went, midday on a Tuesday, into the Columbia River Gorge to grab a burger and fries at the Eastwind Drive-In before shuffling across Bridge of the Gods, WABDR’s official starting point.

A small group of adventure motorcyclists established the Washington Backcountry Discovery Route in 2010 when they decided to see if a course could be charted on existing forest roads from Washington’s southern border with Oregon to its northern border with Canada, all while visiting some of the most majestic spots in the Evergreen State. They scouted by plane, then explored it with 4x4s, and finally they completed it on their bikes. The result was a six-stage, 600-mile adventure that absolutely lives up to their mission. It also sparked an effort to create more routes via the nonprofit organization Backcountry Discovery Routes.

“It became clear from the beginning that the BDR stumbled on a magic formula of creating off-pavement routes that make backcountry exploration on public lands inspirational and attainable,” said Inna Thorn, executive director of the group. Today there are routes all across America, including 10 western states, the mid-Atlantic region, and the Northeast, with three more BDRs in the works, including Montana and the Southeast. All of which means that no one is ever very far from easy access to well-managed off-road adventure.

Once over the Columbia, we picked up the Wind River Highway for a short section of blacktop before getting onto the dirt of Forest Road 68, our entry into the depths of the 1.3-million-acre Gifford Pinchot National Forest. We’d be bucking around for the foreseeable future, so I took the opportunity to air down my tires while Bowie played with his ball.

The sky was cloudless and the sun relentless. The makeshift thermometer in the truck read 95. Despite the heat, which would accompany us with an added digit as the trip progressed, I was leery of the Xterra’s air conditioner. It functions—not quite crisply. But it also seemed like a potential trouble spot on my marginally fettled truck. Besides, if there is anything that reassures Bowie that he won’t die at any moment, it is having the windows down—just enough to taste life at speed with his face, but not enough for self-defenestration. He is small-brained and jumpy, and it is a fine line. “We’re gonna get dusty, my friend,” I told him, but I knew he didn’t care. Dirt suits him. Up we went, a long steady climb through Douglas firs and spindly alders, around the southern end of a big 8000-year-old lava bed called, appropriately, the Big Lava Bed.

The first stage would take us to the town of Packwood, 119 miles up the trail, but because of our midday start, there was no way we’d make it in daylight. No matter; the BDR loosely prescribes a section per day, and most folks on the WABDR Facebook page claim it’s a trek of three to six days. I’d set aside a full week. As we plodded along at 14 mph, the twisting road opened to big views over hazy, dense conifer forests. There was 11,240-foot Mount Hood to the south and 12,276-foot Mount Adams to the north, both of them still bright with snow. The slow pace gave me time to whittle off some math in my head (a subject for which I have a dog’s brain), but it got me wondering how anyone could do this trip in three days. And why they would want to.

Now, the first-generation Nissan Xterra is almost nobody’s idea of a classic rig. And by most accounts, they’re still in the flat, “just a used car” arc of their collectible trajectory. They certainly lack the cachet presently attached to Japanese 4x4s like the Toyota Land Cruiser and first-gen 4Runner, the Mitsubishi Montero, and the Isuzu Trooper, to say nothing of XJ Cherokees and even more vintage-y vintage trucks like Series Land Rovers and original Broncos.

But the body-on-frame Xterra was conceived and built with hard-to-reach places in mind, and young, cash-strapped Gen Xers were the intended audience. “We hope these outdoor enthusiasts will think of Xterra as part of their gear,” mused Jed Connelly, Nissan’s vice president and general manager at the time. “Xterra is a vehicle that will help them enjoy their outdoor passions to the fullest and then get them home safely again.”  With its stadium rear seating and matching stepped roofline topped by a handy roof rack, plus that funky bulge in the tailgate to accommodate the first-aid kit, the Xterra could not be mistaken for anything else.

In addition to being everyone’s 15th choice in a fun off-roader, the 2000–2004 Xterra falls down in nearly every practical comparison against its own second-gen sibling, built from 2005 to 2015. Chiefly, they are gutless, cramped, and devoid of amenities and gizmos that indicate status or technological advancement. The 3.3-liter V-6 cranks out 180 horsepower and 202 lb-ft of torque. A 210-hp supercharged version was also offered, but both return about 13 mpg. All the power of a four with all the thirst of an eight. But they are sturdy, nimble, cheap, and reliable, and I had no qualms putting my 194,000-miler to the test in the backcountry.

Darkness settles quickly in the forest, long before the sun does, so that first night, we found ourselves a nice flat spot along Trout Lake Creek to camp. I cooked pasta and meatballs and treated Bowie to some of his favorite gross wet food, and after playing ball, we fell asleep easily in the tent to the steady rush of the creek. A great joy of America’s national forests is that anyone can camp just about anywhere, at any time, no permits or reservations required. It’s up to you to do it right, which at a very basic level means: Tread lightly. Stick to established roads, camp at least 200 feet from water, store your food properly, pack out your trash, pick up after your dog, leave your camp cleaner than you found it, and fully extinguish your campfires.

Day two began early, the forest still cold, and as Bowie paced the front seats, into and out of my lap, every time I petted him, I could feel the starch of fine dust in his hair. Mine felt the same. Soon we reached intermittent snow and the 4350-foot Babyshoe Pass, so named for nearby Babyshoe Falls. The etymology beyond that is unclear, but I appreciated the tongue-in-cheek approach previous travelers of Forest Road 23 had taken by nailing dozens of actual baby shoes to the signpost. Bowie chased his ball before he, too, stopped to appreciate the signpost.

At this point, we hadn’t seen anyone else in the forest, a remarkable bit of solitude that is difficult to appreciate until you stop to appreciate it. I began to give some thought to the minimum requirements for driving the WABDR. Broad accessibility of the forests relies on good roads, and so far, they had been gentle enough to navigate in a Prius. But as the climbs got steeper and the sharp basalt rocks embedded in some of the smaller roads became more menacing, all-wheel drive and good all-terrain tires seemed like the minimum. A little clearance never hurt anybody, either. Subarus, AMC Eagles, Chevy Astro vans, that sort of thing. A short while later, as we shook and rattled along at a cool 9 mph, as if to challenge everything I’d just determined, parked in a small trailhead turnoff was a filthy Acura RSX, miles from nowhere and sitting low on its 16-inch P-metric rubber. “I don’t get it either, Bobo,” I said.

A quick stop for ice and gas in Packwood, population 319, marked the end of the first stage and the start of the second. One of the great things about WABDR is the ready access to food, fuel, and lodging, should you need or want them, at the end of every stage. Paris to Peking it ain’t, but the regular interval of amenities allows for as much or as little self-reliance as you’re willing to tolerate. If you’re out of water, it won’t be long. If you want doughnuts, hey, buy some doughnuts. The sequence of towns—and the highways that connect to them—also means that you don’t have to do WABDR in one go. Do a stage or two one weekend, follow up with a couple more the next month, or the next summer. Such flexibility removes some of the stress and uncertainty that can accompany a backcountry trip.

Still, just as one does not simply walk into Mordor, one does not set off on a drive like this without some level of forethought. The WABDR Facebook group (and WABDR for 4x4s) are fantastic resources for everything you could need, from the best time to go and what to bring to how to prep your vehicle and what sorts of damage you might expect (minimal, with scratches, or “trailstriping,” generally the worst of it). July through September is the ideal time; any earlier and you risk running into deep snow. Any later and you’re headed into dangerously dry woods, which means no open flames and no easy escape routes.

Beyond the “when,” I sorted out the “where” with a combination of paper and digital maps. Washington has tens of thousands of miles of forest roads, and it is easy to get lost if you’re not careful. Butler Motorcycle Maps makes an exceptional companion for all BDRs, with detailed section information, elevation charts, history and local color, plus alternate roads around particularly challenging parts. I brought a Washington Atlas & Gazetteer as a backup, but largely I relied on the Gaia GPS app, to which I downloaded the entire route, complete with points of interest and potential campsites, all populated by those who have come before.

The second stage begins with a 36-mile trip east up U.S. Highway 12. The realities of topography and private land ownership mean that some “tarmac stages” are baked into WABDR—a hundred miles or so overall, though this stretch was one of the longest. I didn’t bother to air up the tires, so we just floated slowly on down the road until the turnoff to Bethel Ridge. By this point, we’d traded the spongy emerald mosses and ferns and the shaggy red cedars of the Gifford Pinchot for the drier Wenatchee National Forest, with its pale greens of sagebrush and tawny grasses towered over by ponderosa pines. All of it framed by giant blue sky and punctuated in every direction by wildflowers at the peak of their blooms. Golden balsamroot and pale pink bitterroot and purple lupine bells—millions of them—lining the two-track for miles on end.

Our slow, methodical jouncing up the steep switchbacks of the ridge lulled Bowie into his calm place and he swayed himself to rest, a hot potato in my lap. Butterflies and the shadows of butterflies were our constant companions. We camped that night on the edge of the ridge—the side of the world, practically—and watched the lights of Yakima twinkle to life before the July supermoon rose massive and bright over everything.

Just before noon the next day, crossing an especially wide-open section of shrubland, we finally encountered fellow travelers. Through the dust plume in my rearview came a fast-moving headlight, and by the time I looked again, it was beside me, a black-clad biker on an orange KTM who showed me his left index finger with great emphasis—ONE MORE! Off he went, and before long, I saw in the mirror his partner, who was just as quickly by me in a rolling dust storm. They were easily tripling my speed, standing upright on the pegs the entire time to absorb the motorcycles as the motorcycles absorbed the terrain. It looked exhausting, punishing. But in that moment, I got it: Experienced riders on big bikes, those are the folks capable of crushing this trek in three days. Certainly not an old cash-strapped Gen Xer and his dog sucking dust in a 20-year-old slug and fumbling across the earth on overburdened leaf springs.

Despite their speed, we encountered Phil Edgerton and Nik Amyx several more times before trip’s end, in that way people on the Gringo Trail just seem to keep running into one another. “Heyyyyy! It’s you again!” There they were later that afternoon, in fact, resting their bodies and snacking in the shade of some pines off of Bear Mountain Road. And an hour after that, when they’d caught and passed us on the miserable slog up Baby Head Hill—no relation to Babyshoe Pass, but so named because of the specific size of the eleventy billion wretched, punishing chunks of volcanic rock that comprise that bit, and all made worse by an absolute lack of shade, by swarms of biting flies, by a sweltering lap dog, by the compression of my spinal cord.

Packwood to Ellensburg. Ellensburg to Cashmere. Cashmere to Chelan. Chelan to Conconully. Day after day, we settled into a bumpy slow dance that saw us crawling up and then down, up and then down, a hundred miles here, a hundred degrees there, never really topping 30 mph and more often working to maintain half that. The route took us past a small logging operation up Nahahum Canyon, where we plowed through dirt so deep and so fine, like sifted flour, that it permeated every crevice everywhere. It took us to the bald granite summit of 5810-foot Chumstick Mountain, with a 360-degree view of the whole of Washington.

On the descent, I found a bag of industrial-looking dehydrated meals—cheesy broccoli rice and creamy potato soup, some chicken thing, and lots of oatmeal, all good until 2048! We treated ourselves to a hotel room in Wenatchee, “Apple Capital of the World,” where Bowie and I had a contest to see whose bathwater was browner (tie). And where the mosquitoes were so wretched that the hotel had printed out a big sign apologizing for them—and please, here’s some bug spray on us.

The gnarliest section of the trip, on section 4, plunges to the deep, glacially carved finger of Lake Chelan. Called “The Jungle,” it was noted on the map as “overgrown but passable.” It’s a precarious path for sure—overgrown indeed, uncomfortably narrow, with death by a thousand tumbles on your right. I pulled the stubby shift lever into 4Lo to stay off the brakes, clutched the wheel to stay on the road, and as we ground our way down, listened happily to the great shrieking wail of thick and heavy trailstripes liberally applied by a tunnel of unruly brush and the lanky dead branches of long-ago burned trees. One of them was even clever enough to open my door as I passed. Up and then down, for hundreds of miles, day after day.

By the morning of our last day, on section 6, when I had essentially forgotten about them, there they were once more, Phil and Nik, rejoining the route on their bikes after camping before the climb up to 6700-foot Lone Frank Pass, the highest point on the WABDR. They squirted away and easily beat us to the finish, the loneliest international border crossing in the world, at Nighthawk. And yet there they were again, one last time, late in the day as I sat in the hot shade of a defunct Chevron station in tiny Oroville, airing up the tires for the long drive home. Up they rode, quite serendipitously in need of an air pump. “Heyyyyy! It’s you again!” I said. Bowie barked furiously at them. He hates motorcycles, too.

Washington was Phil’s second Backcountry Discovery Route, he told me. He’d ridden Colorado in 2020—for his bachelor party, losing one guy to a concussion after just 5 miles. “This one’s tamer,” he said. “Colorado is full of fourteeners, and the rocks are bigger.” He looked quickly at the Xterra’s saggy back end, then added: “You’d need some taller suspension for that one.” Phil’s goal is to do one BDR per year, and he already had his eyes on Wyoming. “Six hundred thousand people in the whole state,” he said. “If you want to get remote, that’s the place to do it.” Then he looked at the Xterra one more time. “Seeing guys in trucks, though, with coolers and beers and steaks, maybe I’ll buy an old Jeep and fix it up, bring the family.”

An old Jeep. An old Xterra. An old Explorer. Whatever. Love it but don’t care about it on a Backcountry Discovery Route near you.

Bring the dog.

***

Gear up and go

Anytime you venture into the woods, you need to make sure you can get back out—or that you’re prepared to spend the night in case something goes wrong. In addition to a shovel, a chainsaw, a tow strap, and traction boards for any particularly hairy situations, I brought along the following gadgets, which provided peace of mind or simply made life easier.

***

This article first appeared in Hagerty Drivers Club magazine. Click here to subscribe and join the club.

Check out the Hagerty Media homepage so you don’t miss a single story, or better yet, bookmark it. To get our best stories delivered right to your inbox, subscribe to our newsletters.

The post A crusty first-gen Nissan Xterra takes man and man’s best friend off the beaten path appeared first on Hagerty Media.

Years before Shelby American adopted the Cobra name, Chris-Craft, the Algonac, Michigan, boatbuilder, trumped its competition with a design for the ages. With tapered and stylized forms, a decadent single cockpit, an alligator-skin dashboard, and a daring gold engine hatch and tailfin—reportedly the first use of fiberglass in a production boat—the Cobra looked part unlimited hydroplane, part Navy torpedo, and part sea nymph. Just 106 were built in 18- and 21-foot lengths.

Which explains why, in 1981, after learning about a pair of the exclusive models for sale at a Nashville boatyard, I was electric with excitement and hurriedly booked a flight to go see them. I found the Cobras languishing in an outdoor shed, unquestionably real but undeniably distressed.

The 18-footer was stripped of its exterior finish, and the glorious hardwood boards had dried and shrunk, gaps opening between them. It also carried a replacement flathead KBL marine engine, a big blow against originality. Encouragingly, the 21-foot model retained its original dual-quad Cadillac Crusader V-8, but its precious mahogany hull had been fiberglassed to resolve leaks—troubling back in ’81 and blasphemy of the highest order today.

I had some money, though, and after returning home I wrote a $7000 check for the 18-footer, prepared an envelope, and walked toward the door to mail it. Then I paused, weighing the intense neediness of an old mahogany runabout against my station as a young guy with no workshop, no particular boat nor woodworking skills, and no bumper crop of free time. Somewhat in disbelief, I watched my hands tear the envelope and check into pieces.

This seemed like a prudent choice in period, but revisiting it today, I wish I’d found some garage space and tools, so I could have let my dreams live. Not only because Cobras are currently worth $100,000 or so, but because by now I’d have enjoyed owning, driving, and showing one for four decades. The best time to plant a tree and all that …

So, the moral, I suppose, is this: If you’re young and in love with a project idea, maybe take to heart that old Rolling Stones song, “Time Is On My Side.” In 40 years, you’ll be glad you did.

***

Check out the Hagerty Media homepage so you don’t miss a single story, or better yet, bookmark it. To get our best stories delivered right to your inbox, subscribe to our newsletters.

The post When the Cobra in the shed is not a car appeared first on Hagerty Media.

For all their function, cars are in another sense just huge toys. Everyone’s idea of play differs, of course; for some of us, it’s the driving that makes cars fun. For others, it’s the wrenching, or the looking. Stefan Lombard happens to like bending images of them to his will, shifting perspectives to make this or that car look like something else. With that in mind, we hereby present the fictionalized account of Randolph T. Dumple, automotive designer-at-large. –Ed.

***

Everyone loves a good barn find. With each passing year, it gets harder and harder to imagine how new discoveries keep popping up. But there are a lot of barns out there, all over the world, and throughout the last hundred years or so, people have stashed away cars in them for any number of reasons. Each new unveiling helps to keep this hobby and all who enjoy it on our collective toes, wondering what’s next.

Even more abundant than barns, however, are attics. And while no one—to our knowledge, at least—ever stashed a car in one, plenty of automobilia has ended up squirreled away in the dark, cobwebbed recesses of the craftsmans, bungalows, chalets, tudors, villas, castles, and four-squares of the world.

Which brings us to the sketchbooks and diaries of one Randolph T. Dumple. Recently unearthed by a realtor in a downtrodden, overpriced Cape Cod outside of Rock Island, Illinois, and graciously shared with Hagerty, several crumbling cardboard boxes reveal the life’s work of America’s least-known (but perhaps most prolific) automobile designer.

Ambidextrous from a young age, Dumple forged an impressive path during his long career as a stylist, one that began as a teenager and lasted an astonishing 70 years, taking him to some of the world’s most famous coachbuilders in the process: LeBaron in America, Jonckheere in Belgium, Gurney Nutting in England, Figoni & Falaschi in France, Pininfarina in Italy, and dozens more. He also took part in several special projects directly with manufacturers, including Chevrolet, Ford, Mercedes, Porsche, Lamborghini, and Toyota.

Though he had multiple stints at several carrozzerie, records indicate that Dumple was never employed full-time at any of the styling houses or carmakers he represented; instead, it appears he was that rare freelancer, a hired gun who parachuted in to work on a special project, often at the behest of a particular well-to-do patron (and to the consternation of a given firm’s full-timers), and then just as quickly flitted off to the next destination, the next project. His clients included heads of state, actors, musicians, athletes, lottery winners, and socialites, and his designs have been described as “elegant,” “absurd,” and even “elegantly absurd.”

By his own account, Dumple was not an easy man to work with, and his diaries reveal that he left a string of grumbling colleagues in his considerable wake, including, no surprise, Enzo Ferrari. The unique vision of his designs, however, are hard to argue.

It’s not quite clear how the colorful chronicle of Randolph T. Dumple’s professional life ended up in an attic on the banks of the Mississippi (he never lived in the area and in fact died in a mountaineering accident in Patagonia in 2010, aged 99), but one thing is certain: The automotive world is a richer place for the discovery.

Hagerty is pleased to share the works of Randy Dumple with our readers, and we’ll leave you to ponder one of his very first designs, the three-wheeled 1930 Ford Model A “Tringledeptor” shown above, which he penned at the age of 19 for a contest sponsored by Ford called “Ford of Tomorrow.”

Dumple’s notes on the design are sparse, but his intention was clear:

Tomorrow’s cities will be crowded, messy affairs, and parking one’s car will be an exercise in frustration. The highly maneuverable Tringledeptor (with rear steering!) will alleviate that frustration by allowing drivers to fit into the tightest of spaces.

Curiously, this would not be the last three-wheeled design to flow from the practiced pen of Randolph T. Dumple.

***

Check out the Hagerty Media homepage so you don’t miss a single story, or better yet, bookmark it. To get our best stories delivered right to your inbox, subscribe to our newsletters.

The post The Dumple Designs: An introduction appeared first on Hagerty Media.

The recent Bicester Heritage Flywheel event, held June 17–18, is a self-described “celebration of wings, wheels, and motion for the whole family.” What better place to give a wild 1967 Ford Mustang rally car its public debut?

Commissioned by vintage events promoter HERO-ERA, the 400-hp pony car has been in development for a year at motorsport giant Prodrive. Putting its meticulous technical expertise in race-car construction to the test, the firm started with a rusting chassis and essentially rebuilt the car from the ground up, including bead blasting and reinforcing the structure. The changes were all made in anticipation of the expected stresses of events like the Peking to Paris Motor Challenge, a 37-day, 8700-mile trek across the world’s largest land mass.

Prodrive chairman David Richards and HERO-ERA chairman Tomas de Vargas Machuca were on hand to unveil the classic Mustang to an enthusiastic crowd of hundreds.

“I am blown away by the car,” said a beaming Machuca. “I am so happy with the result.”

It’s a project, Machuca says, that nearly didn’t happen. In March 2022, he asked Richards if there were anything Prodrive could do with the Mustang, but the project seemed beyond the scope of Prodrive’s focus. These days, the firm runs Lewis Hamilton’s X44 Team in the Extreme E championship as well as development and support for Aston Martin in the FIA World Endurance Championship. But Richards came around.

“Since then, Prodrive’s enthusiasm, experience, and skill have transformed a ‘basket case’ into a historic motoring masterpiece, ready to take on the best in the desert and be the flagship vehicle on our Arrive & Drive fleet.” The Mustang is the first historic American car that Prodrive has taken on.

To cope with long-distance events like Paris to Peking, in addition to chassis reinforcements, the Mustang’s suspension was carefully crafted to handle the worst that deserts, mountains, and forests could throw at it. The Windsor 302, a 5.4-liter V-8, has been massaged to deliver 400 hp all while operating for long periods at high revs. It has been paired with a Tremec five-speed gearbox that puts power to the rear wheels through a nine-inch limited-slip differential.

Underbody protection runs the length of the car, protecting the driveline and shielding the 70-gallon fuel tank, which will give the Mustang a 400-mile range. The car’s final specs conform to a mix of FIA Appendix K, Motorsport UK, and HERO-ERA technical regulations.

“This project started life a long time ago as a casual conversation with Tomas about my wife Karen’s interest in taking part in the Peking to Paris Motor Challenge,” Richards said. “The Ford Mustang was a significant departure from our usual projects, but we have utilized all our rally experience, and the result is testament to everyone who worked on the car at Prodrive.”

With more than four highly successful decades in motorsport, including several World Rally titles to its credit, Prodrive was uniquely poised to deliver on a car of this Mustang’s caliber.

“We loved every minute of getting into the DNA of a mid-’60s U.S. muscle car,” said Richard Thompson, senior engineer and general manager of Prodrive Legends, which provides technical support and resources for owners of ex-Prodrive works cars of the past. “HERO-ERA has created a superb platform of competition, adventure, and camaraderie that is missing in modern-day WRC events, and for that reason, we are all excited to accompany the car on these challenges.”

Following the unveiling, the Mustang joined the Club Des Autos Tour for a gentle shake-down run to France. Further testing will take place before the car’s first big test at the Badawi Trial in the Middle East. The 4660-mile event starts in Jordan on October 10 and traverses Saudi Arabia, Oman, and the UAE before its conclusion 16 days later.

***

Check out the Hagerty Media homepage so you don’t miss a single story, or better yet, bookmark it. To get our best stories delivered right to your inbox, subscribe to our newsletters.

Via Hagerty UK

The post Rusty ’67 Mustang transformed into dirt-slinging race car appeared first on Hagerty Media.

We dedicated the May/June 2023 issue of Hagerty Drivers Club magazine to the deep connections between music and cars, including several fun lists featuring your favorite car songs. Click the Music & Cars tag to catch up on all the stories, or jam with our custom Music & Cars playlist on Spotify, available here.

For our final installment of car songs, we’re looking to the open road for inspiration. Here are 11 tunes focused on that long black ribbon of freedom.

Nat King Cole
“ROUTE 66”

Now you go through St. Louis
Joplin, Missouri
And Oklahoma City looks mighty pretty
You’ll see Amarillo
Gallup, New Mexico
Flagstaff, Arizona
Don’t forget Winona
Kingman, Barstow, San Bernardino

Fun fact: Outside of this song, no one has ever accused Oklahoma City of being mighty pretty.

Deep Purple
“HIGHWAY STAR”

Nobody gonna take my head
I got speed inside my brain
Nobody gonna steal my head
Now that I’m on the road again

Meth—not even once.

Willie Nelson
“ON THE ROAD AGAIN”

On the road again
Goin’ places that I’ve never been
Seein’ things that I may never see again
And I can’t wait to get on the road again

It’s literally impossible to come up with something snarky to say about this song. Try it.

The Doobie Brothers
“ROCKIN’ DOWN THE HIGHWAY”

Ford’s about to drop, she won’t do no more

And I smell my motor burnin’
Underneath the hood is smoke

Somewhere, a billion Chevy owners are nodding their heads and laughing.

Golden Earring
“RADAR LOVE”

When she is lonely and the longing gets too much
She sends a cable coming in from above
Don’t need no phone at all

Even in 1973, these guys knew that driving and cell phones didn’t pair well.

AC/DC
“HIGHWAY TO HELL”

I’m on the highway to hell
Highway to hell
I’m on the highway to hell
Highway to hell

No one has ever captured a weekend trip to Ikea better than AC/DC did.

Lindsey Buckingham
“HOLIDAY ROAD”

I found out long ago
It’s a long way down the holiday road
Holiday road
Holiday road

A catchy jingle to be sure, but this song really comes alive when you’ve got your dead aunt Edna strapped to the roof.

Talking Heads
“ROAD TO NOWHERE’”

They can tell you what to do
But they’ll make a fool of you

Nice, subtle nod to parents everywhere.

Kraftwerk
“AUTOBAHN” (This was actually a Beach Boys homage)

Wir fahr’n, fahr’n, fahr’n, auf der Autobahn
Wir fahr’n, fahr’n, fahr’n, auf der Autobahn
Wir fahr’n, fahr’n, fahr’n, auf der Autobahn
Wir fahr’n, fahr’n, fahr’n, auf der Autobahn
Wir fahr’n, fahr’n, fahr’n, auf der Autobahn
Wir fahr’n, fahr’n, fahr’n, auf der Autobahn
Wir fahr’n, fahr’n, fahr’n, auf der Autobahn
Wir fahr’n, fahr’n, fahr’n, auf der Autobahn
Wir fahr’n, fahr’n, fahr’n, auf der Autobahn

They’re driving on the Autobahn, in case that’s not clear.

Canned Heat
“ON THE ROAD AGAIN”

You know the first time I traveled out in the rain and snow
In the rain and snow
You know the first time I traveled out in the rain and snow
In the rain and snow
I didn’t have no payroll, not even no place to go

Poor planning on your part does not constitute an emergency on mine.

Tom Cochrane
“LIFE IS A HIGHWAY”

This is the road and these are the hills
From Mozambique to those Memphis nights
The Khyber Pass to Vancouver’s lights

We’re not going to say this drive is impossible, but you really need to keep an eye on the tides.

***

This article first appeared in Hagerty Drivers Club magazine. Click here to subscribe and join the club.

Check out the Hagerty Media homepage so you don’t miss a single story, or better yet, bookmark it. To get our best stories delivered right to your inbox, subscribe to our newsletters. 

The post 11 songs about the highway appeared first on Hagerty Media.

“You’re the one who got me into the thing!” my friend hissed at me over mind-numbing Mai Tais at an LA dive. There was some debate over who had led whom astray, but we were actually celebrating, in a way, as we’d just sold a joint-project Cadillac during the 1979 oil crisis. After two years of toiling away on the 1958 Series 62 convertible and selling it for a small profit, we calculated that we’d earned $1.24 per hour on the car. Just enough to get us tipsy on rum. At that moment we hated life, hated each other, and most especially hated the car.

Even so, aboard that 19-foot land yacht we felt like royalty. Opulent throughout, the Cadillac apologized to no one for anything; it rode like a Diazepam dream and extended a middle finger of privilege better than any other car I’d known.

We found it on an LA side street in 1977. Once dazzling but now dented and dingy, it belonged to an elderly car salesman who barely shuffled to the door when we knocked. Clearly, it had been his favorite ride, yet now that he was on final approach, he sold it to us for $350.

That car sure was complex. Four power windows were not enough, for instance, so Cadillac included power vent windows, too. and 10 switches to power them all. Of course, not all of the switches worked. Further, the convertible’s hydraulic cylinders leaked fluid into the trunk, the electric clock worked sporadically, and the Delco Wonder Bar radio was reticent to locate stations.

As college students, we poured ourselves into restoring the Caddy with a Dutchman’s restraint. I sweated through installing an ill-fitting mail-order top and then sprayed the car Wimbledon White—a Ford color I liked—in a neighbor’s yard on a drizzly SoCal summer day. Soup cans may have gotten brazed over holes in the exhaust system, before we visited the barrio to have the torn leather upholstery replaced with bordello-red vinyl.

Then came my Cadillac coup de grace: new carpets. The budget kit included a large box of tacks, necessary to conform the flat material to curved floor pans, and in mere hours, I had the scarlet loop-pile hammered into submission. On the first drive afterwards, the electrical system somehow became quirkier than a smartphone dropped in seawater. Probably because I’d tacked through a wiring harness hiding beneath . . .

Finally, after too many months of frustration, we sold the Caddy to a father-son team for cheap. I’m glad they got it. But what they didn’t get was the cherry 1960s black-and-yellow California dealer plate we found in the trunk: “DLR 1.” At least that Caddy excelled at something.

***

Check out the Hagerty Media homepage so you don’t miss a single story, or better yet, bookmark it. To get our best stories delivered right to your inbox, subscribe to our newsletters.

The post My 1958 Cadillac Series 62 convertible: Right car, wrong time appeared first on Hagerty Media.

We dedicated the May/June 2023 issue of Hagerty Drivers Club magazine to the deep connections between music and cars, including several fun lists featuring your favorite car songs. Come back often or click the Music & Cars tag to stay up to date on these stories as they roll out online. You can also jam with our custom Music & Cars playlist on Spotify, available here.

Countless songs address the freedom of driving. Among thousands of candidates, we’ll start by nominating two seemingly disparate numbers, both of which illustrate a great through line of American song—the liberating spirit of adventure and exploration that hitting the highway represented. “See the U.S.A. In Your Chevrolet” was made famous by Dinah Shore in 1950, though the jingle—written by Leo Corday and Leon Carr—was originally sung for the TV show Inside U.S.A. with Chevrolet by Peter Lind Hayes and Mary Healy. Later covered by Pat Boone and even the cast of Glee, after decades of service as a recurring Chevrolet jingle, its luster has by now largely worn off. Conversely, the status of the once-obscure garage rock classic “Roadrunner”—by Jonathan Richman and the Modern Lovers—continues its ascent to musical standard-dom, its popularity growing like the sprawling suburbia that its narrator simultaneously celebrates and seeks to escape.

And, of course, no discussion of the freedom that cars offer would be complete without “Born to Be Wild,” made famous by Steppenwolf and its appearance in the 1969 film Easy Rider, which is about two meaning-seeking, drug-dealing Californian rebels on an impromptu trip across the American Southwest and South on old Harley choppers. Amusingly, this all-American standard was written by a Canadian sessions musician, Mars Bonfire (real name Dennis Eugene McCrohan). He was broke and out of work and planted in Los Angeles when he penned the timeless anthem, a ditty that turned out—in the way these things do—to be just as useful for breathless corporate marketers as for nonconformists quitting their jobs and hitting the road.

Here are 14 more songs that celebrate the freedom of driving…

Bruce Springsteen
“THUNDER ROAD”

There were ghosts in the eyes of all the boys you sent away
They haunt this dusty beach road
In the skeleton frames of burned out Chevrolets

Somewhere in Maine, Stephen King is listening.

M.I.A.
“BAD GIRLS”

Cover me, cause I’m changing lanes

That’s not the purpose of driver aids and you know it, M.I.A! They’re meant to complement proper use of mirrors, not replace them completely.

Sonic Youth
“SHOOT”

Can I have the car keys? I wanna go for a ride
Can I have the car please? I’m going out for a while
Can I have the car now? I wanna drive all around
Can I have the car, dear? I’m gonna leave this town

This feels like the lyrical equivalent of Mom? Mom? Mom? Mom? Mom? Mom? Mom? Mom? Mom? Mom? Mom? Mom?

Iggy Pop
“THE PASSENGER”

He sees the sight of hollow sky
He sees the stars come out tonight
He sees the city’s ripped backsides
He sees the winding ocean drive
And everything was made for you and me
All of it was made for you and me
‘Cause it just belongs to you and me
So let’s take a ride and see what’s mine

Someone sure is selfish.

The Allman Brothers Band
“RAMBLIN’ MAN”

Leaving out of Nashville, Tennessee
They’re always having a good time down on the bayou, Lord
And Delta women think the world of me

Yes, but the JetBlue women can’t stand you.

Wilco
“PASSENGER SIDE”

Hey, wake up, your eyes weren’t open wide
For the last couple of miles you’ve been swerving from side to side
You’re gonna make me spill my beer
If you don’t learn how to steer

Team Wilco lasted exactly one stage before the FIA banned them from ever competing in the WRC again.

Foghat
“SLOW RIDE”

Slow ride
Take it easy
Slow ride
Take it easy
Slow ride
Take it easy
Slow ride
Take it easy
Slow ride
Take it easy

I hear you, man. Now tell it to all the bozos over on r/idiotsincars.

Pearl Harbor and the Explosions
“DRIVIN’”

(Drivin’)
Back on the streets when it feels so right
(Drivin’) Drivin’
(Drivin’)
It’s just tonight, I feel the only cure is drivin’
(Drivin’) Drivin’
(Drivin’)
I’ve got no time to think of how you feel
(Drivin’) Drivin’
(Drivin’)
Behind the wheel, so now I gotta drive it, drive it
(Drivin’) Drivin’

Contrary to popular belief, this is not a song about golf.

The Modern Lovers
“ROADRUNNER”

With the radio on
I’m in love with Massachusetts

With the radio off, however, I prefer South Dakota.

The Cars
“DRIVE”

Who’s gonna hold you down when you shake?
Who’s gonna come around when you break?

Such a subtle nod to the Plymouth K-car.

Chuck Berry
“NO PARTICULAR PLACE TO GO”

Ridin’ along in my calaboose
Still tryin’ to get her belt aloose
All the way home I held a grudge
But the safety belt it wouldn’t budge
Cruisin’ and playin’ the radio
With no particular place to go

And that, friends, is why we heed recall notices.

War
“LOW RIDER”

All my friends know the low rider

Yeah, but so does Karen from the neighborhood watch, and you just know she’s got 911 on speed dial.

Gary Numan
“CARS”

Here in my car
I feel safest of all
I can lock all my doors
It’s the only way to live
In cars

Is it, though?

The Breeders
“DRIVIN’ ON 9” (Ed’s Redeeming Qualities cover)

Drivin’ on 9
Drivin’ on 9
Drivin’ on 9

Also not a song about golf!

***

This article first appeared in Hagerty Drivers Club magazine. Click here to subscribe and join the club.

Check out the Hagerty Media homepage so you don’t miss a single story, or better yet, bookmark it. To get our best stories delivered right to your inbox, subscribe to our newsletters.

The post Hit the Road: 14 songs about driving appeared first on Hagerty Media.

While binge-watching old episodes of the TV show Forensic Files, I began to notice that a lot of crimes involve cars. People were hit by them, kidnapped in them, and murdered inside them. Cars were stolen, wrecked, and set on fire. After searching a suspect’s house, the next place police always looked was their car.

“In the forensic sphere, cars are a major source of evidence,” explained Chris Palenik, a forensic microscopist (microscope expert) at Microtrace, LLC. “Whether cars provide the evidence, through losing paint or losing fibers to a suspect or victim; or the opposite, where the car picks up evidence because something hit against it, or a gun was fired in it, or hairs were lost in it.”

Chris and his father, Skip Palenik, have worked on thousands of criminal, civil, and industrial cases—many involving vehicles. Of course, not every car clue is microscopic; some are personal.

“I watch true crime because it teaches lessons about human nature,” Rebecca Reisner, true crime blogger and author of Forensic Files Now, told me. “But I’ve really come to appreciate forensic evidence, because people’s memories are a mix of things . . . and you can absolutely testify that someone was there and you could be totally wrong.”

The numbers game

Solving crime often boils down to “who?” “when?” and “where?” and license plates are the fastest way to identify a car and its owner. In one Forensic Files episode, a team of serial bank robbers was finally caught because a savvy witness wrote down their license plate, helping end their seven-year spree.

Today, automatic license-plate cameras administer everything from speeding tickets to highway tolls, and some police cars even have automated plate readers. Additionally, an endless number of security cameras at toll booths, intersections, businesses, and homes record traffic around the clock. Reisner told me of one episode where a landscaper robbed and killed a woman, then got caught on camera in her Cadillac Fleetwood on his way to use her stolen debit card.

Although license plates are over 100 years old, Vehicle Identification Numbers (VINs) weren’t even required by law until 1969. VIN databases include information on the vehicle’s current and previous owners, when it was bought and sold, whether it has been damaged, and if it has open recalls (important for civil lawsuits). Criminals often sell cars to get rid of evidence, but unless the vehicle is sold without a title—which makes it illegal to drive in most states—detectives can still track the car down by its VIN. They are stamped in multiple places, and although a car can be burned, crushed, dumped in a lake, or even blown up, unless it’s melted down in a blast furnace, at least one VIN will likely survive. In fact, it was a VIN from the rear axle of the exploded truck used in the Oklahoma City Bombing that led investigators to the killer.

The things we leave behind

After a vehicle flees a crime scene, it can still leave clues. A Florida serial killer once left just a few short tire tracks near a crime scene, and the expert who analyzed them realized they actually came from a tire he designed while working for Firestone! After narrowing down the shops that sold those tires, police tricked their prime suspect into trading in his rubber for a free new set. After matching the treads to those at the crime scene, they got him.

If tire tracks are clear enough, scientists can identify more than just the brand and model. From the moment tires hit the road—even identical ones—they wear in unique ways. These imperfections help single out a specific tire from millions of copies. The ringer for the case above case was a pebble stuck between the treads, which left a telltale mark in the tracks.

Multiple Forensic Files episodes focused on hit-and-run fatalities, where a single collision can leave thousands of tiny clues. Musing on what motivates people to flee the scene, Reisner said, “Just panic, fear, desperation. Those things kind of erode morality sometimes. Perhaps they’ve been in zero trouble in their whole lives and they think, ‘Maybe I’ll get away with this.’”

Frequently, they don’t. With just a few fragments of broken plastic, experts can identify a vehicle’s make and model. Vehicles can also leave marks on a victim, like when investigators matched a Square Body Chevy grille to identical bruises on a little girl’s body.

With millions of similar cars on the road, this evidence typically serves as a starting point. Law enforcement can announce what make and model they’re looking for, and witnesses can provide tips like, “My neighbor said he just hit a deer, but his truck perfectly matches the description from a hit-and-run scene.” Broken glass can also be matched to vehicles, although it’s not always precise. Palenik explained that scientists can’t always use glass to pinpoint a vehicle’s exact make and model, but if they already have a suspect’s car, they can match glass from the scene to that damaged vehicle.

When it comes to automotive paints, identification gets way more specific. “If somebody [or something] gets hit by a vehicle, there’s a decent chance paint will be transferred, whether it’s a smear or a chip,” Palenik said. “And if you find that chip and you can trace it back to a car, that can provide some pretty high-impact evidence in an investigation.”

As all car nuts know, paint colors vary by brand, model, year, trim package, etc. That paint isn’t just “red,” it’s “Ford Race Red” or “Chevrolet Radiant Red Tintcoat” or “AMC Vineyard Burgundy,” and scientists can tell the difference.

“Several decades ago, the criminal justice communities in the U.S. and Canada decided to build the PDQ, or Paint Database Query,” Palenik said. “It’s a collection of paint samples, and they reach out to manufacturers of vehicles and attempt to get a chip of every single paint of every single vehicle made.” Palenik and his team can then take unknown paint from a crime scene and match it to samples in the database, helping investigators narrow down what car they’re looking for.

It’s what’s on the inside

Not all evidence comes from the car’s exterior, of course. Vehicle upholstery and carpets often shed microscopic fibers that stick to clothes and bodies. In one Forensic Files episode, carpet fibers on a dead woman’s body were traced back to a police officer’s Chevy Caprice. In an ironic twist, the high-ranking officer drove the only Caprice with a fully carpeted interior, instead of the department’s basic cruisers, which only had rubber mats.

Just as automotive fibers left on someone’s body can prove they were in a car, evidence left inside the vehicle can do the same thing in reverse. “We see quite commonly that [dead] people are transported in blankets, or in some sort of rug,” Palenik said. Those items usually leave microscopic fibers inside the car.

“Cars are very good keepers of evidence, no matter what people do,” Reisner told me. “You know they tear up the flooring in the trunk and the cops go in there with Luminol and they find there was blood in there. Or even simple things, like it’s a 5-foot-3 person’s car, and the driver’s seat is moved way back, so they know the short owner was not the one who drove this car to the murder scene.”

Fingerprints on steering wheels, gearshifts, and various knobs are obvious clues. Bblood, hair, skin cells, or other forms of DNA can hide in cracks and crevices. Even the best automotive detailer in the world will overlook something, as was the case when a single cat hair found in a trunk helped solve a murder. In another hit-and-run episode, the perpetrator managed to clean, repair, and sell his Jeep Grand Cherokee to a dealership hundreds of miles away, but police tracked it down by its VIN and managed to find a tiny bit of evidence.

“It had to have been washed a million times,” said Reisner, recalling the episode. “But they still found arm hair from the victim stuck in the seam of the side view mirror.”

Vehicles collect all kinds of unexpected evidence in unexpected places, from tree seeds in a truck bed to bite marks in a rubber trim piece. As Palenik told me, knowing exactly what to look for can help investigators save time. Frequently, he searches car interiors for microscopic gunshot residue. “When you fire a gun, there’s a plume generated,” he explained. “Metals can precipitate in the gas and form these tiny particles that you can’t see.”

He’s even tested an interior for fireworks residue after three men were killed in a crash allegedly caused by lighting fireworks while driving. But his strangest automotive evidence came in the form of a dried vegetable.

“Were were given these crumbly gray chunks . . . We thought they were biological, perhaps human. Under the microscope, we determined the cellular structure was that of potatoes.” It turned out someone attempted to use a potato as a homemade gun silencer (which doesn’t really work). Bits of the vegetable were left in their car. Additional tests determined the potato did indeed contain gunshot residue.

Even simple soil can provide a wealth of information. In one Forensic Files episode, investigators used mud on the wheel wells of a Jeep Cherokee to tie the vehicle to a specific gravel parking lot where a gruesome drive-by shooting occurred. In the famous 1960 kidnapping and murder of beer magnate Adolph Coors III, distinct layers of mud on a car bumper helped prove it had visited multiple crime scenes in chronological order.

Reconstruction sites

Not every car accident is a true “accident.” The science of accident reconstruction helps find the truth. At the crash site, investigators record distances, road features, skid marks, and vehicle damage. These, combined with data on vehicle weights, tires, and road surfaces, can be used to calculate vehicle speeds and directions leading up to the crash.

In yet another episode involving a Jeep Cherokee, a police officer investigating a fatal collision was suspicious that there was too much blood inside the Jeep for the amount of damage done to the outside. Plus, the driver’s wife had died, but he had only minor injuries. Accident reconstruction proved the crash was too slow to be fatal, and the woman had been dead before the impact.

In one case, a lack of front-end damage proved a pickup truck was gently eased into a lake, rather than crashed into it at high speed. In a similar episode, police found a plastic bottle cap wedged in the throttle mechanism of a Mazda, functioning as homemade cruise control to cover up a murder. “They were trying to make it look like the driver drifted off to sleep and crashed into the water,” Reisner said. “But the car made a perfect 45-degree turn . . . a perfect straight line into the river.”

Some car crimes involve arson investigators, such as the episode where a mechanic tried to make a garage fire look like a fuel-filter change gone horribly wrong. But when investigators pointed out that a half cup of diesel fuel shouldn’t send an entire building up in flames, his elaborate insurance-fraud attempt fell apart.

The road ahead

Forensic Files originally ran from 1996 to 2011, although CNN relaunched the series in 2020. The old episodes may have outdated music and cheesy special effects, but the science holds up, and the driving reenactments are actually quite good. Today, the evidence generated by cars has only become more complex, as modern vehicles come with event data recorders that track when we accelerate, brake, shift, signal, use infotainment, and more. But solving car crimes still takes hard evidence and expert analysis, as Palenik can attest.

A lot has been said about how you can judge a person by what they drive, and it seems even more true when it comes to solving crimes. A single paint chip or carpet fiber can be the thing that sends someone to prison (or gets them out). But beware, if you think you’re smart enough to pull off the perfect crime after reading this, Rebecca Reisner says otherwise: “People have been doing that for years. Cops will figure it out! We’re not all the geniuses we think we are.”

***

Check out the Hagerty Media homepage so you don’t miss a single story, or better yet, bookmark it. To get our best stories delivered right to your inbox, subscribe to our newsletters.

The post Rolling Evidence: <em>Forensic Files</em> reveals how cars end up at crime scenes appeared first on Hagerty Media.

In the not-too-distant past, when a convertible would roll onto the block at one of his collector car sales, former auctioneer Dean Kruse would declare: “When the top goes down, the price goes up!” For the most part, he wasn’t wrong.

At a recent meeting of the minds here at Hagerty, we got to noodling on that theme, until we’d mangled it enough to arrive at our own declaration: “When the wheelbase goes up, the price goes down!” Specifically, we were talking about four-seat versions of two-seat cars. But were we right?

When British Motor Corporation introduced the Austin-Healey 100-6 for 1957, in addition to shoehorning two more cylinders into the popular 100-4, the company cleverly wedged in two extra seats. Just like that, the jaunty little roadster gained extra oomph and extra utility. In a remarkable feat of vehicular packaging, the car’s wheelbase only grew from 90 to 92 inches, and neither the car’s elegant profile nor its essential nature were sacrificed. Though the change was minute, it should tell you something about just how useful those rear seats were.

Nonetheless, Austin-Healey had broadened the appeal of a great sports car by making it available to a wider segment of buyers: people with friends. More importantly, the 100-6 (which would become the 3000 after 1959 and feature the same 92-inch wheelbase no matter the seating configuration) lost nothing in translation. It still looked fantastic.

In the decades since, a handful of manufacturers have attempted to capture a bit of that magic by turning their own popular two-seaters into 2+2s, with varying degrees of visual success. It’s a fine line, after all, to mess with something so delicately balanced as the aesthetics of a universally lauded sports car.

Jaguar knows a thing or two about that. In 1966, Jag put its sexy Series I E-Type in traction, taking the wheelbase from 96 to 105 inches, until it emerged as the far less sexy but ever more practical E-Type 2+2. A year later, Lotus pulled the wheelbase of its lithe Elan S3 like so much taffy, from 84 to 96 inches, to create the Elan +2 (or Plus Two, or Plus 2). Ferrari followed suit by injecting 9.7 inches into the wheelbase of its handsome 1968 365 GTC, taking it from 94.5 to 104.2 inches to make the 365 GT 2+2, a car soon nicknamed The Queen Mary, for obvious reasons.

Not to be outdone, in 1974, Datsun messed with a good thing by upping the wheelbase of its perfectly lovely 260Z from 90.7 to 102.6 inches. Sixteen years later, as Nissan, the company did it again when it put back seats in the stunning 300ZX, extending the car’s wheelbase from 96.5 to 101.2 inches.

I’m not here to call anyone’s baby ugly, or even mildly unattractive, but it’s hard to argue that any of the above turned out as visually successful as their two-seat counterparts. The four-seat variants were all, however, successful in their own right. Jaguar, for instance, sold 5600 Series I E-Type 2+2s from 1966 to ’68, compared with roughly 7800 coupes. The later Series II 2+2 outsold its two-seat sibling 5330 to 4860, though in both series, roadsters trumped all. Datsun buyers clearly preferred the purer lines of the two-seater, snapping up more than 40,000 of them in the one year they were offered, but 9500 people opted for the 260Z 2+2. And between 1968 and 1971 Ferrari sold 800 365 GT 2+2s, compared to fewer than 200 two-seat GTCs.

In other words, in period the longer cars did not lack for buyers. But how does today’s collector-car market view them?

Well, a two-seat 1960 Austin-Healey 3000 BN7 in #1 (Concours) condition carries a Hagerty Price Guide value of $98,900, while its 2+2 counterpart, the BT7, is valued at $95,200, just a 3.7 percent discount. Potato-potahto, right? But keep in mind those two cars share the same wheelbase. Remaining in #1 territory, the fall-off is far more striking when comparing an E-Type with its lanky, more voluminous brother—$288,000 vs. $147,000—a 49 percent discount.

For the Elans, the two-seater is valued at $62,300 and the Plus 2 at $43,600, a 30 percent discount. Perhaps unsurprisingly, the most eye-popping result lies with the pair of Ferraris: We have the 365 GTC priced at $845,000, while the GT 2+2 clocks in at $290,000—a 66 percent difference. Talk about a child tax credit!

The percentages change slightly as we move down the condition ratings, but the theory holds: When the wheelbase goes up, the price really does go down.

That’s great news for buyers unable to, uh, stretch the budget for their first choice. Or for buyers in search of interesting sedan alternatives. If you’re willing to overlook the extra proportions these 2+2s carry, if you’re happy to embrace the added utility even tiny back seats can offer—if you’re a person with friends—then these 2+2s built from their two-seater siblings are absolutely worth considering.

***

Check out the Hagerty Media homepage so you don’t miss a single story, or better yet, bookmark it. To get our best stories delivered right to your inbox, subscribe to our newsletters. 

Via Insider

The post If a two-seat classic is too expensive, try the 2+2 appeared first on Hagerty Media.

We dedicated the May/June 2023 issue of Hagerty Drivers Club magazine to the deep connections between music and cars, including several fun lists featuring your favorite car songs. Come back often or click the Music & Cars tag to stay up to date on these stories as they roll out online. You can also jam with our custom Music & Cars playlist on Spotify, available here.

Hard-partying musicians are certainly well represented among the millions who’ve died in car crashes, but perhaps none of the songs written about such accidents has been as eerily prescient as Jan & Dean’s “Dead Man’s Curve.” A 1963 hit about a street drag race gone wrong, it echoed loudly in memory when, in 1966, band member Jan Berry drove his Corvette into the back of a parked truck not far from the dangerous corner whose legend he and partner Dean Torrence had helped to cement. Berry and the band’s career were never the same.

The pride of El Sobrante, California, Primus scored its first hit in 1991 with “Jerry Was a Race Car Driver.” Penned by the punk-funk band’s virtuoso bass-playing leader, Les Claypool, it concerns an “I’ll show them” type of guy who’s in over his head and meets his end driving an Oldsmobile 4-4-2 too fast after many too many beers.

Here are seven more hits about fender-benders—and worse.

Jan & Dean
“DEAD MAN’S CURVE”

Well, the last thing I remember, Doc, I started to swerve
And then I saw the Jag slide into the curve
I know I’ll never forget that horrible sight
I guess I found out for myself that everyone was right
Won’t come back from Dead Man’s Curve

Sounds a lot like the automotive equivalent of “you’ll shoot your eye out!”

Ray Peterson
“TELL LAURA I LOVE HER”

He drove his car to the racing grounds
He was the youngest driver there
And the crowed roared as they started the race
‘Round the track they drove at a deadly pace
No one knows what happened that day
How his car overturned in flames
But as they pulled him from the twisted wreck
With his dying breath, they heard him say . . .

” . . . I probably should have eased into this whole racing thing. Maybe some SCCA Solo, or just a high-performance driving experience to see if racing was right for me.”

Dave Edmunds
“CRAWLING FROM THE WRECKAGE”(Graham Parker cover)

Crawling from the wreckage, crawling from the wreckage
Bits of me are scattered in the trees and on the hedges
Crawling from the wreckage, crawling from the wreckage
Into a brand new car

How’s about you crawl into that ambulance first? Then we can talk about a new car.

David Bowie
“ALWAYS CRASHING IN THE SAME CAR”

Every chance,
Every chance that I take
I take it on the road
Those kilometers and the red lights
I was always looking left and right
Oh, but I’m always crashing
In the same car

Maybe less looking left and right, and more eyes forward? Try that for a while.

Mark Dinning
“TEEN ANGEL”

Teen angel, teen angel, teen angel, ooh
That fateful night the car was stalled upon the railroad track
I pulled you out and we were safe, but you went running back

PSA: Don’t tug on Superman’s cape. Don’t spit into the wind. Don’t mess with the Lone Ranger’s mask. And never, ever, crawl back into a car when a train is barreling down on it.

The Beach Boys
“A YOUNG MAN IS GONE” (about James Dean)

For this daring young star
Met his death while in his car
No one knows the reason why

Obviously, The Beach Boys don’t read Wikipedia, because it says exactly why right there.

They Might Be Giants
“MINK CAR”

I got hit by a mink car
Hit by a mink car
Driven by a guitar
And the silver chauffeur says
That it’s all in your head

Or . . . it might be in that toad you just licked.

***

This article first appeared in Hagerty Drivers Club magazine. Click here to subscribe and join the club.

Check out the Hagerty Media homepage so you don’t miss a single story, or better yet, bookmark it. To get our best stories delivered right to your inbox, subscribe to our newsletters.

The post 7 songs about car crashes appeared first on Hagerty Media.