Alphabet Soup with the MG TD

There’s some disappointment to report with the fantastic auction find book, I’m sad to say.  I was all ready to flip to the page featuring the MG T-type only to discover that apparently, somebody has absconded with that section.  I’ve got just about every other MG available in the mid 1900’s but no T-series.  The entire section is just gone. The only proof that it was ever there to begin with is the promise of the T-series chapter on the index page for the MG section.  Crap!

I think we still deserve a T-series MG today, so I’m not going to let a little setback like this wreck our fun.  Buckle up, and away we go.

The T-series MGs included in order, the TA, TB, TC, TD, and TF.  Each one was an improvement over its previous iteration, though for the most part they all looked the same outwardly.  They featured upright grilles, swoopy fenders that were separate pieces from the rest of the body, and cutaway doors.  They looked kind of like miniature Duesenbergs with their roadster drop top and elongated hoods, which is to say, they’re styled like an old school automobile.  The ones we’re looking at today are both Tds, which were made between late 1949 and 1953.  The red one is an early edition of the TD -a 1949, and the black one is at my favorite place to gawk at vehicles, Ellingson Classic Cars, and it’s a 1951.  Both are cute little roadsters that are fun to drive on a basic level… and that’s about all they've got going for them -which still counts for a lot, by the way.

A T-type MG is a very basic and rudimentary vehicle when you’re talking about options.  Here’s a short compilation of things that you DON’T get with a TD:

1) Fuel gauge.  Nope, you’ll just have to guess how much gas is in the tank.  There is a light that flashes to warn when you’re down to 3 gallons, but beyond that, you really just need to get to know what the range on a TD is like and plan fill ups accordingly.  Of course, as the owner of a much later MG, I can attest that having a fuel gauge supplied by British Leyland is just about the same as having none at all, because it doesn’t work.  The problem is in the sending unit back at the gas tank, but replacing that is a crap shoot.  I’ve replaced mine only to find that the second, brand new sending unit was crap, too.

2) Temp/water gauge.  No sirree-Bob.  You should be able to tell when you‘re overheating by the steam pouring forth from the radiator and the fact that you’ve broken down at the side of the road.  MG figures that’s good enough.

3) Disc Brakes -Uh uh.  Drum brakes all around on these babies.  Hope you don’t need to stop too fast, because that’s not gonna happen.

4)  Heater.  No heat in these cars.  Just wear a sweater or something, Jeez!

Here’s what you do get though:  a 1250cc (1.3L) 4 cylinder engine that whips up between 54 and 57 HP depending on if you’ve got one of the later TDs or not, a car with a top speed of 77 MPH, not that you should attempt to hit that number in one of these, rear wheel drive, and Edwardian styling...  All on a car that you ought not to drive in anything less than ideal weather.  That rag top isn’t all that tight for separating you from the elements.  If it’s cold outside, it’s going to be cold inside the MG thanks to a lack of heater.  You also get to perform weekly maintenance, which is what these cars demand to keep in good, running order.  Heaven forbid you should ever be involved in an accident in one of these.  That steering column is not any type of safe, collapsible design.  In a head on collision, it forms a kind of spear that can pierce the driver’s thorax, given enough force to propel it back - which won’t take much, because this car isn't designed with crumple zones in mind or the survival of its occupants.  It’s just over 1,900 pounds of cute little British car, and aside from its looks, the best thing it has to offer is its quirky disposition -which will eventually start to grind on owners who expect it to actually start in the morning.

Getting a TD for one’s self these days will entail a bit of cash, but the range is all over the place.  An unrestored, but functional and complete 1952 specimen is listed for $6,500 on Hemmings, but that price can climb up to $32,000 for one practically show room ready yet unrestored with only 8,700 miles on it, or $45,000 for one that’s museum quality.  The Ellingson TD in black is listed for $26,950.  Most TDs you’re likely to come across will cost in the mid teens.

These are sweet looking little cars, but unless you’re ga-ga over the styling, I’d recommend an MGA, the replacement for the T-types.  Its styling was definitely early-60’s cool with a bit of deco, and they’re better cars, too.  You know, they've got "luxury" options like heaters and fuel gauges and all that good stuff. That’s personal opinion though, which I’m entitled to on my blog.  I will say that it would be nice to have a TD to take out for a Sunday drive on the Parkway, nice and slow on a mild day.      

The Austin Healey 3000

The first featured vehicle from my vintage foreign car collision repair manual is the Austin Healey 3000.  These were British sports cars that were made from 1959-1967.  The body work on the 3000 was actually done by Jensen Motors, maker of one of my favorite cars, the Jensen Interceptor (I have yet to see one in person that I’ve been able to get a picture of, but someday…).  I want one, the Austin Healey 3000 or the Jensen Interceptor -I’m not picky.

Austin Healey 3000’s were the product of a joint venture between Donald Healey, who ran a design and engineering firm called the Healey Motor Corp., and the head of the Austin Division of the British Motor Corp., Leonard Lord.  Leonard saw the 100-6 Donald built at a show and approached him about going into business to produce and sell the cars.  When Austin Healey 3000’s had their last model leave the production line in 1967, it was because that was the end of the contract between the two.  

My dad actually has a 1963 Austin Healey 3000 Mk II, but it’s not in presentable shape, and in fact, when and if my dad ever completes it, will probably be more of a resto-mod than total restoration.  My dad bought the car decades ago in complete and running condition.  It had some issues, and when my dad started to get into fixing it, he had to keep going deeper and deeper, finding more and more wrong with the vehicle as he worked his way through it.  I remember being set to work on the trunk lid back when I was 14.  Under the paint, it was all schmutzed over with body putty.  That wasn’t the only panel that had been filled in rather than straightened out.  I got the trunk lid done and started on one of the fenders, which ended up needing to have a rip welded.  Of course, lots of the body parts of these cars are aluminum, which means you need a spool gun to get the welds done right.  I didn’t have a spool gun, and for that matter, I didn’t learn how to weld until I was a freshman in college, so we had a body shop do that repair for us.  Anyway, let’s look at what we’re here to see today.

And here’s the car we’re going to look at today.  It’s from Ellingson Classic Cars in Rogers, MN, and it’s a 1962 Austin Healey Mark II BT7.  The “ BT7” indicates that it’s a 2+2 seater instead of a 2 seater which would be designated as a “BN7”.   You may be wondering what’s up with that Mark II business.  It’s pretty simple, actually.  There was the original 3000, which looked an awful lot like it’s predecessor, the 100-6.  The Mk II’s were made from May of 1961-October of 1963, and when they were designated Mk II, that made the ones prior to it (1959-May of 1961) the Mk I.  Mk III’s were the 3000’s made from 1963 until the end of the production run in 1967.

All of the 3000’s were powered by a 2.9L (actually 2,912 cc -so rare that they round down instead of up, right?) in-line 6 cylinder engine.  The Mk I had 124 HP and 162 lb-ft of torque.  The Mk II had 132 HP and 167 lb-ft of torque, and the Mk III had 148 HP and 165 lb-ft of torque.  Most all of the engines had twin SU carburetors (I have SU’s on my MG -they’re not so hot, but not too hard to work on).

The 3000 we’re looking at today actually has a tri-carb set up.  That’s right, 3 carburetors to help it breathe, and an improved cam shaft.  That set up didn’t last too long though, because people complained about the extra maintenance required to keep 3 carbs in tune. This is kind of a rare 3000 due to how briefly the tri-carb production run lasted.  It’s also part of why Ellingson Classic Cars can demand $59,950 for the beautifully restored 3000 they‘ve got in their show room.

In terms of power, these cars aren‘t much, especially compared to modern day vehicles.  That HP rating doesn‘t sound like it‘s the worst, but keep in mind, that power is generated by a big, long, heavy, in-line 6 cylinder in the front end of this rather small car (they were referred to as “Big Healeys“, but trust me, they‘re not that big), which makes this vehicle rather nose heavy without really dishing out enough power to make up for it.  If you look at the hood of the car, you can see it‘s rather small and narrow.  That means that there  isn‘t a whole lot that will fit in that compartment.  The battery won‘t.. It‘s in the trunk (perhaps I should say, boot, since this is a British car).  That‘s not unheard of though.  In my MG, the batteries (plural, yes) are under the back seat.

There’s no arguing that these are beautiful cars.  They’ve been in lots of movies.  The Rum Diary with Johnny Depp had one, so did Father of the Bride, and there was a scene in Bullitt where you could see one parked along the street.  My favorite movie featuring a 3000 is The Royal Tenenbaums, which is also my favorite Wes Anderson film.  In that movie, Owen Wilson’s character, Eli Cash drives a white one, and later, crashes it.  I’ve read that the crashed one was a replica, but the one that was shown uncrashed was a legitimate 1964 3000 Mk III.

Wait, did I say replica?  Why, yes, I did.  There’s a real demand for replica 3000s because an in-depth, body-off restoration of a 3000 is a bloody expensive nightmare.  Here’s why:  the inner body, floorboards and bulk heads are all welded to the chassis on a 3000.  If you’re going to take it down to the nuts and bolts to properly work over an Austin Healey 3000, you’re looking at cutting these parts off and re-welding them -that’s after you’ve fixed whatever you need to on them, of course.  This is an expensive pursuit, and it’s yet another reason why places like Ellingson can ask dang near $60,000 for one that’s been restored.  Brand new, a Mk I would have cost just over $3,000, and by the time production ended, a Mk III would have cost right around $3,500 -I need to invent a time machine and go back and buy a bunch, don‘t you think?.

Say you do restore one.  You’ve now got all that money and work invested in a beautiful car that handles ok for its age, but you’re still putt-putting around with less than 150 HP.  Doing a resto-mod is going to hurt the value of the car, but if you don’t have the original engine, you might as well drop something more potent under the hood.  Say that you like the look but want better performance though, that’s when you start looking at replicas.

There are 2 major makers of 3000 replicas.  The best known is Sebring International UK.  They have 4 different versions to choose from.  The SX looks pretty much like a vintage 3000 minus the badges, which they won’t put on for fear of getting sued, but there’s nothing that can stop you from affixing the emblems once you’ve got one!  The TMX, which has flared fenders, the MXR which also has flared fenders and no bumpers, and the “EXALT” which is kind of a modern looking interpretation of what a 3000 might look like if Austin Healey were making them today.

In the US, you have The Healey Factory in Florida which gives you 5 versions to choose from.  The 3000 special ($42,500), which looks like a regular 3000 but has a Chevy 350 V8 with 265HP under its hood and an automatic transmission, the 3000 SL ($47,300), with a high output version of the Chevy 350 that gives you 300 HP along with an automatic transmission, the 3000 SSL ($49,500) with the same 300 HP Chevy 350 and a manual transmission, the 3000 SS ($56,400) with a 383 high output V8 that pumps out 370 HP, and lastly, the 3000SS/COMP ($58,600) with a 383 V8 that creates 425 HP.

I didn’t convert the prices for the Sebring replicas from pounds to American dollars, but I’m pretty sure they stack up about the same.  These are all pretty expensive, especially for replicas.  On the plus side, you get some horse power to match your money, but it comes at the price of authenticity.  The bonus is that if you wreck one of these, you don’t have to fret that you’ve destroyed an irreplaceable vintage car, making one less of an already dwindling number in existence.

This stuff is expensive, but you get an eyeful for your dollars.  I think if I want an Austin Healey 3000, I’m going to have to get to work on helping my dad fix his up and hope he lets me borrow it -hey, I‘ve already got the repair manual for the body work!).  I don’t have the kind of money that a nice 3000 demands just sitting around to spend on a car that would leave me weeping and sobbing inconsolably in the grocery store parking lot if I ended up with a door ding in it.

To that end, I did some shopping around and here’s what I found aside from the gorgeous 3000 at Ellingson’s.  Hemmings has some listed.  You can get a 1961 that needs a TON of work, for just under $6,000.  On the other hand, you can also find a completely restored 1962 Mk II 2 seater roadster with tri-carb engine for (cringe!) $90,000.  A complete but not exactly shining example of a 1964 Mk III can be picked up for $23,500, and I found a completed auction listing that featured a 3 carb example in need of several grand worth of work and parts that sold for $21,000.          

My ideal Austin Healey 3000 is probably not the super valuable completely restored version.  Mine would be a resto-mod.  I’d keep all the good looks of the outward appearance including the wire wheels with knock off hubs -so long as I kept a mallet in my trunk in case I ever get a flat.  I’d replace that hulking in line 6 with something smaller and more potent to keep the car light and fast.  I’d enhance the suspension and put disc brakes all around instead of just at the front.  That’s what my dream 3000 would be.

An Omen From the Automotive Cosmos, Then, An Auction Find! Behold the Ancient Automotive Tome!

Here's a Grabber Blue Mustang GT...

Pretty, eh?

Of course, we've already discussed the new 5.0 Mustang in a previous post.  I'm including this one it today's post because this Mustang was a harbinger of good things to come for me.

About a week or two ago, I was at an auction in Mason City, IA.  When I pulled into the parking lot, this little beauty caught my eye right away (I know, with a paint job like that, how could you not notice it, right?).  It's not quite the same as seeing unicorns, leprechauns, and rainbows, but I took the sight of this stunning little drop-top as a sign, and I knew then that it would be a good day.  I was right, too.  You see, I found myself a little treasure at the auction, and best of all, I was able to get it for $4!

BEHOLD!

That's an old foreign car collision repair manual.  I have a small collection of old car literature and magazines, so this was right up my alley.  It's fantastic because it features pull-apart/exploded diagrams of just about every little bit and piece of a whole bunch of vintage foreign cars that fill the pages of this over 4" thick tome.  From here on out, if I encounter a car that is in this book, I'm going to feature it and a couple images of it from inside the book.  So, no new featured car today, as this is the intro of my fabulous dog-eared auction treasure, but tomorrow...  well, you'll just have to wait.  In the meantime, here are some cars from the book that I've already profiled.

  
Remember this MGA?  I've got a chapter on that, and here's the intro page of it.

...Or how about that Porsche 356?

Got a chapter on that, too!

...And of course, my dear, little MGB-GT

Here's its chapter.

This book is amazing!  Of course, I'm willing to share, so if any of my readers have a vintage foreign car and would like to take a gander at the chapters pertaining to their particular vehicle, drop me a comment and I'll check to see if it's in my book.  If I can find it, we'll see if I can scan some pages for ya'.  Gotta share the love, you know.  In the meanwhile, keep your eyes peeled for omens from the automotive cosmos.  Remember that a Grabber Blue Mustang is a herald of good fortune.  I hope you all see one soon!

You say potato, I say Paseo... convertible!

Today’s car comes to us from the parking lot of the liquor store I stopped at this evening to pick up some frosty beverages to consume while watching Orange is the New Black on Netflix and sculpting this evening.  What you’re looking at is actually a pretty rare little car.  It’s a 1996 or 97 model Toyotal Paseo convertible.  I think technically, all the US convertibles would be 97 models, even though most were actually built in 96.  The Paseos most people see are the coupes, and in fact, I had to stop and ask the guy who pulled up in this convertible about his car because I’d never seen a convertible version in person before.  He told me I was the first person he’s ever run into who actually knew what kind of car he had and graciously allowed me to take pictures of it for my blog.  Nice guy.

Back in 1996, the year yours truly graduated from high school, a 1997 model year (remember, they hit the sales floors early) Paseo convertible could be purchased for between $17,500-$20,000, depending on what trim and options you had on it.  For that money, you got a cute little convertible that was based on a Toyota Tercel (mentioned briefly in a previous post about birds and cars) with a yawn-inspiring 1.5L 4 cylinder engine that made 93 HP (interestingly, this is a 7 HP drop from previous model year Paseos because for the 2nd generation of Paseos, Toyota decided to keep things simple and make all their Paseos to match the demands of the California emissions standards -thanks again, EPA). You also got a manual drop-top.  Safety features like anti lock brakes required purchase of a safety package, and moving up to larger rims than the stock 14” standard was extra, too.  It’s probably not too surprising that people looking to get into a summer fling with a cheap, fun convertible would opt instead to spend the same base price dollar amount on a Chevy Cavalier, or Pontiac Sunfire convertible, or even a little Honda Civic Del Sol Targa top, all of which came with more power, and better safety features standard.

The Paseo only lasted for a span of 5 years in the US market, between 1992-1997.  It continued to sell elsewhere throughout the world, including in nearby Canada until 1999.   The convertibles were only made in 1996-1997 for the US.  Toyota’s refusal to keep the Paseo competitive in the marketplace is why you so seldom see Paseos, much less the convertible versions of them.  From what I was able to dig up online, the speculation is that for the 1997 model year, there were only 1,000 made for the US market.

For being the odd duck back in its production days, the very thing that made these cars obscure and undesirable is what ended up making them rare, and thus, somewhat desirable today.  If you decide you want a Paseo convertible, I say good luck finding one for sale.  Don’t be too afraid to get into one that needs some work, though try to steer clear of any examples with rust issues.  Because the Paseo has a lot common with the Tercel, it’s not too hard to locate parts.  If the convertible top is in rough shape, it’s not too bad to handle either.  A little shopping around online shows that you can get a new, install it yourself convertible top for these cars at a cost of $379.95 for one with a plastic window and $439.95 for one with a glass window.   Don’t splash out lots of money on one, but expect that you’ll pay more for one of these than for one of its mechanically superior competitors from the same era.  You’ll pay that premium because what you’ll get in exchange is the confidence that you’ve probably got the only one of its kind for miles around.

Plum Crazy or Legend Lime?

Today’s car would have been a better fit for last week’s fruit theme.  Some months back, I did profile a new Dodge Challenger R/T (Road/Track), but this one caught my eye and I thought I’d give it a go.

This Challenger is presented in a retro “high impact” color called Plum Crazy. I love cars with distinct paint colors, and particularly throwback colors on retro styled muscle cars.  My own vehicle bears a paint color that’s a throwback to the green that was available on vintage Mustangs, called Legend Lime.  What’s interesting about this Challenger is that in a way, it pairs up with my Mustang pretty well.

I was actually going to be sensible after deciding to put my previous Mustang out to pasture and buy myself a new Escape.  I had one all picked out and was planning on going to the dealership where it sat to negotiate on it later in the week when I pulled up to a stop light along Washington Avenue next to a Mercury Mariner, which is the mechanical twin of the Escape.  It was cute enough and the people inside seemed happy, but as I looked over at the car, I tried to picture myself in the driver’s seat, and that driver in my car.  I realized that if I were sitting in a compact crossover at this stop light with a Mustang next to me, I’d look over and wish that I was behind the wheel of the Mustang instead.

When I got to where I was going, I decided I’d do one last thing before making definite plans to buy my sensible compact crossover.  I hopped on line and plugged in the specs for the Mustang I wanted.  I had a very particular car in mind, and it was one that I had been longing for since the day I interviewed for the job in car sales that I worked previously.  When I interviewed, there was a poster on the wall of the Ford/Mercury/Saleen dealership I ended up working for.  The poster was of a Legend Lime Mustang, and as I sat in the office during the interview, my eyes kept wandering over to the poster.  I couldn’t help but admire the car it featured.  I decided that some day, I was going to have one of those myself -the car, not the poster.  When I sold for that dealership, I told myself that if we ever got a Legend Lime Mustang in our inventory, and it had the options I wanted, I was going to swoop in and buy it.

My option list evolved over time to include a few things.  It had to be Legend Lime green, which narrowed the field substantially, as the color was only offered for two years and on relatively few Mustangs.  It had to be a GT or some variant of the GT like a Roush, Shelby, or Saleen -though finding one of those for sale both in green and in a price range that was reasonable would be tough.  I wanted leather interior and heated seats (Minnesota, ya’ know) and a decklid spoiler (or none at all so I could add on the one I wanted aftermarket), but not the run of the mill pedestal decklid spoiler.  I also wanted a manual transmission.  This color just isn’t that common, and oddly enough, a Legend Lime green Mustang, GT or otherwise never did grace our showroom floor while I worked in car sales, so my wish went unfulfilled.

Back at my car search a couple years later, I plugged in as many of these specs as I could and came up with just a handful of Mustangs available across the nation.  Legend Lime had only been offered for two years, both of which had passed, so now I was shopping used rather than new, but I wanted one with low mileage.  The results were not even a handful, really.  There were three or four.  One of them was eliminated right away for having a salvage title, another had cloth interior but was a Roush Stage 1, which is really just an appearance upgrade, but I still kept it on the list, another had higher miles than I wanted to see.  …And then there was the fourth, which happened to be sitting in the lot at a dealership in the very city where my parents lived.  It had absolutely everything I wanted.  I called my parents and told them I’d be coming down to visit that weekend and put my Escape plan on the back burner, figuring if I didn’t like this Mustang, I could always go back to it.        

My Mustang had just been taken in on trade for a Super Duty pickup truck and hadn’t been prepped to go on sale on the lot yet, but the dealership had posted it online right away.  In posting it, they had mislabeled it as a manual transmission, when in fact, it’s an automatic.  That was very nearly a deal breaker for me.

I thought back to when I went on a test drive in a Grabber Orange GT Mustang with a gentleman who was a race car driver.  The one we took out was, as I said, Grabber Orange, and had black racing stripes.  It was also an automatic, which is something I cautioned the guy about, because most men who would come in looking for Mustangs scoffed at the idea of buying an automatic.  This guy just shrugged and said it didn’t matter to him because he could make the car go fast either way.  We went out on back country roads and that guy gave me the ride of my life in that Mustang, whipping it around corners, nearly taking it airborne several times, but always maintaining control.  He showed me exactly what separates a GT Mustang from a little 6 cylinder, which is what I was driving for my personal car at the time: Power and performance.  The GT and its 6 cylinder little brother are simply two different breeds.  The GT is like a thundering race horse, and the 6 cylinder is the sweet little pony who likes to gallop a bit.  It was that day that cemented the addition of GT or higher performance to my list of Legend Lime Mustang demands.  It was also that day, experiencing first hand what a skilled driver could do with a Mustang GT that made me compromise my demand for a manual transmission.  It turned out to be a good thing, too, because I sometimes find myself needing to borrow larger vehicles like trucks, SUV’s or vans to haul stuff around, and having an automatic transmission means I can do a day trade of my car with friends who have those vehicles without having to worry if they know how to drive stick. It worked out pretty well.

Because I was in the town where my parents lived, they tagged along to the dealership.. Actually, they went to the Jeep dealership next door to the Ford dealership because they were going to have some routine maintenance done on my mother’s Jeep.  The two dealerships are actually owned by the same conglomerate, so they can pull cars from each other’s lots on “dealer trade” with relative ease.  My dad pulled me aside and pointed out a Plum Crazy Challenger and told me that I ought to be negotiating a deal on that car instead.  The color is definitely distinct, and I do like it, but in Minnesota, I’d come off as some kind of nutty, hard core Vikings fan driving around in a purple Challenger.  And besides, I’d found my Mustang.

I would have had to pay quite a bit more for the Plum Crazy Challenger R/T than I paid for my Mustang.  Both were used and had roughly the same mileage, but the Challenger was newer than the Mustang.  I negotiated down to a deal I liked that made up for the automatic transmission, so I had no buyer’s remorse about the sale.

The Challenger R/T has a 5.7L Hemi V8 with 372 HP, so, compared to the older Mustang with its 4.6L V8 and 300 HP (bumped up just a bit by custom exhaust so it breathes better), it’s faster.  Fuel economy is about the same between the two… a bit better for the Mustang with high teens for city and mid 20’s for highway driving as opposed to the Challenger‘s mid teens city and low 20‘s highway.  The Challenger is heavier by around 500 lbs, so there’s that weight to haul around with those extra ponies, which can still make up the difference in performance.  Between the two, I picked the one I wanted, but I’m sure that my dad, owner of a few Chargers and Barracuda’s back in his youth, would have gone for the Mopar.      

This Plum Crazy Challenger is a 2009.  There are very few 09’s you’ll see in Plum Crazy (well, few of any year in this color, actually).  In fact, for a while, I was wondering if this one bears an aftermarket paint job.  My understanding had been that in 2009, you could only get a limited edition SRT-8 in Plum Crazy that came with plum stitching on the seats and a horizontal plum colored stripe of leather stitched into the seat upholstery, too.  I can’t find definitive info saying I’m right or wrong, so this could be the real deal, but it doesn’t have Plum Crazy matching interior.  I looked at the car, and the door sills and inside of the trunk lid all bear the Plum paint, so if it is an aftermarket paint job, it’s a good and thorough one.  Those silver stripes are aftermarket, though.  From the factory, you could only get the side stripes in white or black, and they run the length of the car just near the belt line, terminating on the rear fenders with an “RT” design rather than just solid stripe all the way back.  The spoiler, too has been mucked about, as it should be a matte black finish instead of painted the body color if it was stock from the factory.  Of course, those rims aren’t what the car came with either.

I’m glad somebody put the side stripe on this Challenger though, because these cars are just too slab-sided to leave solid, especially when dealing with an eye-popping color like Plum Crazy.  I can’t help but wonder if the person who did these mods has damaged the value of the vehicle a bit.  Plum Crazy Challengers are speculator cars.  People buy them and put them in storage or only rarely take them for a spin as they hold on to them and let them eventually increase in value after the initial dip while you can still buy new ones.  An original, Challenger from the 70’s, stock, with factory applied Plum Crazy paint is a thing of value based just on the rarity of its hue, so you can see where Dodge is going with its special edition offering of throw back paints.  When all is said and done, I supposed I have to give it the stoplight test.  If I pulled up next to a Challenger at a stoplight along Washington Ave, would I want to be in that car instead of my Mustang?  Nah, I love my Mustang, and I'm happy with it just the way it is ...though once the warranty I have on it expires, I might look into supercharging it.

We Are The Champions! ...Or Rather, Studebaker Was.

Hope you had your Wheaties, because today’s car safari has us surrounded by Champions…. Studebaker Champions.

We’re going to start with the newest offering and work our way back.  So, to kick things off, here’s a 1954 Studebaker Champion in blue.

 Mechanically, these cars are pretty straight forward and not all that impressive.  They featured a 170 cu in flathead straight 6 cylinder engines that puffed out 85 HP and 138 lb ft of torque, and that was the only option available for power.  They did come with a choice of a 3 speed manual, a 3 speed manual with overdrive, and a 2 speed automatic that kind of sort of functioned like it had overdrive without actually having overdrive (shoot for the 3 speed manual with overdrive).

In 1954, one of these cars would have set you back by $1,950-2,250 depending on options.  Today, they range anywhere from around $4,000 up to mid twenties and even one really custom Champ I spotted online for just a hair under $60,000.  The Champs you’ll see demanding upwards of $15,000 typically are no longer stock.  They often have a transplanted (and much improved) drive train and performance modifications to optimize handling.  I’ve got no problem with this because like I said, these cars aren’t particularly awe-inspiring on the mechanical front.  They win over their owners based on looks alone.

We’re keeping it pretty simple today because these cars weren’t all that complicated.  The reason I’m featuring them is that they’re just all around nice looking cars.  There’s not a single angle you can view a Studebaker Champion from where there isn’t a nice line or interesting form to behold.  This holds doubly true for the generation of Champions prior to ‘53-54.

Moving back in time now to 1951, we’ve got a distinctly different looking Champion.

For ‘51, a Champion Coupe would cost from just over $1,500 to just under $1,700 depending on trim and options.  Nowadays, these cars span price ranges from around $3,000 for an example in need of lots of restoration work, up to the high teens and beyond for custom hot rod versions.  Same power train options as discussed previously, so again with the piddley 85 HP.

Matte black isn’t exactly the best way to show off the splashy, futuristic styling of this car, but you can still see its fantastic lines including a dramatically forward jutting airplane type schnozz decked out with chrome accents.

This Starlight Coupe Champion is available for sale at a classic car lot in Mankato, MN for $11,900.  

Better yet to behold the stylistic drama on the 1950 model here, with the front bumper deleted to make that front fascia even more striking.

The ‘50 and 51 Champions didn’t bother to get wrapped up with smoothing down and streamlining.  They were about drama and the suggestion of speed, power and performance -of flying by the seat of your pants with your hair bowing in the breeze.  With 85 HP, they couldn’t really deliver on that, but there aren’t too many car designs that make you feel like the vehicle is streaking through the air even when it’s standing still.

A Studebaker Champion is yet another good one for people looking to get into classic cars.  They’re cheaper and easier to get than the higher end Studebakers like the Avanti, the President, the Hawk, or the Dictator.  They look fantastic, and a stock version isn't too hard to work on.  Resto-mod work like upgrading can be handled with money and some help from friends or a good custom shop.  Best of all, reproduction parts are easy to come by.  That’s a good thing too, because the bad news about old Studebaker Champions is that they are prone to rust problems..  So, maybe not so much a car for in the Midwest, where we salt, sand, and spray chemical melting agents around on our roadways in winter to keep the thoroughfares from becoming ice skating rinks, but if it’s a summer driver, and especially if you’re not in the rust belt, why not?  

Chrysler Imperial: From Demolition Derby to Art Film.

A while back, I came across a 1972 Chrysler Imperial sitting in the outdoor fenced in display area at Ellingson Classic Cars in Rogers.  Even though it’s not the right year, I immediately flashed back in my mind to watching artist Matthew Barney’s video series, the Cremaster Cycle.  Yesterday, Steve McQueen’s film work had a go of it on my blog, so today, I thought we’d try a link to something a bit more obscure… Unless you’re an artist or an art student, then it’s not so obscure.

Some of you may know Matthew Barney as the guy who has a kid with Bjork, and some probably have never heard of either of them.  Barney is a well known artist who made a series of five videos (I hesitate to say films, because they were all actually shot on video then transferred to film for projection showings in theaters) between the mid 1990’s and 2002 known as the Cremaster Cycle.  The cremaster, for those unaware, is the name of the muscle that suspends, raises, and lowers the scrotum.  Mostly, it’s useful for regulating the temperature of a man’s testicles.  In his series, Barney uses the cremaster’s cycle of  dropping of one’s balls as a metaphor for exploring themes of masculinity and male sexuality.  There’s some basis on the life/artistic personification of murderer Gary Gilmore in there too.  To be honest, I very much like the Cremaster Cycle work Barney has done, but its intended meaning and content is something that I find myself setting aside quite often while watching in favor of just letting myself be mesmerized and overcome by the striking imagery it contains.

Which brings us to Cremaster 3, the last film of the 5 (confusing, I know, because they’re not in chronological order.. All the others were made prior to the 3rd).  Cremaster 3 is the longest of all and has the most shocking and fascinating imagery of all the work in the series (in my opinion).  In spite of the fact that it’s been about a decade since I saw the series last, just off the top of my head, I can recall the image of seemingly dead yet still animated race horses, all fleshy and sinewy as they race around a track, well as a cheetah lady played by model and double amputee, Aimee Mullins who wears cheetah leg prostheses, and in another scene, wears and walks in crystal clear glass legs.  But today we’re going to focus on the role of the Chrysler Imperial in the Cremaster 3.

In the film, you see 5 1967 Chrysler Crown Imperials (crown was a trim level) in the lobby of the Chrysler building all smashing and crashing into an older Imperial New Yorker that earlier was shown having the body of Gary Gilmore (played by Barney) placed in the back seat.  Eventually, the New Yorker Imperial is reduced to a mere chunk of crushed metal by the 5 Crown Imperials in this rather gorgeous demolition derby hosted in the beautiful Chrysler building lobby and featuring stunningly glossy Imperials.  The five Imperials reference the five films in that each bears the symbol that Barney created for each film, and they are all 1967 models, which is representative of the year of Barney’s birth. This is in keeping with this film’s theme of narcissism, which is also a theme that manages to work its way into a lot of artwork, too.  Big shock that it all ends up revolving around the artist, his own work, and his fixation on what‘s in his pants, eh?  Well, work with what you know, I guess.  And really, why not?  It’s intriguing, not in a smutty way, but more of a curious and bizarrely perplexing way, if that makes any sense.

So, today’s Imperial isn’t a ’67, obviously, because I’ve already said it’s a ’72.  I bet if Barney had been born 5 years later than he was, we would have been looking at 1972 Imperials, though.  Here’s the thing about these cars: they were monsters in the demolition derby world -not just in “derbies” featured in art films set in the Chrysler building, either.  Europeans may know demolition derbies better as “banger racing”, but the point is the same, and that is to wreck all the other cars before your own vehicle can no longer function.  Obviously, this isn’t the safest motor sport to take part in, but steps are taken that include removing glass from the cars first, and signing a waiver, so, you know, it‘s safe… kind of.  When you’re driving in a demolition derby, you want to strike mostly with the back end of the car so that you don’t muck up your engine compartment, or you won’t be able to ram anything, and you‘d better like the feel of whip lash, because it‘s gonna happen.

The kind of cars one wanted to use for demolition derbies tended to be big, old, American land yachts.. AKA 60-70’s model full sized cars, which worked out kind of well because demolition derbies were in their hay day just about at that time.  The Chrysler Imperial was king among the vehicles competing, and proved itself to have such an endless supply of crash space that some derbies banned them all together in an attempt to be fair to all the other American gun-boat sedans and wagons.

When we’re talking about a car that, based on sheer size, doubles as a weapon of mass destruction, a 1967 Imperial was a great choice.  The ‘67 Imperial featured a 350 HP 440 cubic inch V8 under the hood to propel the massive 4,860 pound, nearly 18 and ¾ foot long, over 6 ½ foot wide metal missile around the derby.  Brand new, a ’67 had a sticker price of right around $6,000.   Go up 5 years to today’s featured car, and you can add another grand onto that MSRP along with an extra  5 inches in length, and one hundred pounds in weight.  You’d have to subtract 105 HP from the output specs of that 440 due to detuning (thanks a lot, EPA), but that still leaves you 245 HP to bash around with.

If the prospect of a owning car that practically calls for satellite imaging to fit the entire thing in the frame of a photograph, has oodles of crash space, and will net you a whopping 8-10 MPG is appealing to you, your best bet is to go with the ‘72.  It’s cheaper by half than its older peer, the ’67... Probably in part because Matthew Barney went and bashed up a bunch of them for his Cremaster movie, making a surviving example of the ’67 just that much more rare than it was before.  This particular 1972 is in not-so-hot shape, and is available for just under $3,000.  A ’72 Imperial in great shape would cost just shy of $10,000, whereas a 1967 Imperial in great condition would fetch over twice that amount.  I think it’s unlikely that anybody would use an Imperial for a demolition derby these days, as your average car in a derby is worth about half or less of what this beat up Imperial’s price is.  That said, I certainly can see the appeal of getting behind the wheel and dominating a muddy field of clunkers using this massive metal beast as the driving force.              

Bullitt

Today’s car was spotted last week in the Wirth Chalet parking lot.  It struck a chord with me, not only because I like Mustangs, but because just the night before, I was looking through an old car magazine (I have a small collection), Cars & Parts, from September of 1984 and came upon an auction listing for the Steve McQueen collection, which included dozens of cars and motorcycles.  How appropriate that the very next day, I should happen upon a car that pays homage to one of McQueen’s movies, and arguably, some of the best car chase sequences ever filmed!  I had to stop and take pictures.

The funny thing is, among the many different cars listed for sale from McQueen’s estate, you won’t see one of the Bullitt movie Mustangs.  That’s because Steve McQueen never managed to get one for himself.  Word is that he tried to buy it, but couldn't get the deal to close.  There were two Bullitt Mustangs built for the film with consecutive VINs: one that took the brunt of the punishment from the chase scenes (the real star), and supposedly was so wrecked afterward that it ended up at a junkyard and got crushed (I may be mistaken about that though), and its pretty double who got to kick back in the car trailer during the chase scenes, eating bonbons and having its nails done (well, the automotive equivalent of that, anyway) while the stunt double did most of the work… life is so unfair, isn’t it?  That Mustang survived and has changed hands a couple of times, but is rarely ever seen.  It’s worth a fortune, to be sure, and hard core, well-moneyed collectors would just about kill to get their hands on it -that’s probably why whoever has it these days doesn't flash it around a whole bunch... or at all.  It’s just such a shame about the stunt ‘Stang, though.  Back in the day, nobody at the production studio probably even gave much thought to collector value.  They just saw a trashed and smashed Mustang and sent it off to the scrap yard.  Fixed up to running condition, I bet that one would fetch even more than its pretty-boy costar Mustang.

Evidently, the owner of this Bullitt Mustang was busy golfing at the Theo Wirth course, an activity that strikes me as so very tame considering his car was probably pouting in the back of the parking lot, just hoping to be revved up so it could go ripping and tearing across the golf course, ramping up over the rolling hills, and soaring through the air as it chases down hapless golfers in their little electric put-put golf carts -Get 'em, Frank!

You’ll notice that this mustang is pretty bare.  There isn’t a single ford logo on it, nor is there anything calling it a Mustang.  The only thing it does show outwardly is a trunk tag that features the Bullitt Logo in crosshairs, just like the movie poster logo.  This is because the 1968 Mustang GT 390 fastback that Steve McQueen’s character, Frank Bullitt used to chase down bad guys in Dodge Chargers had no logos or any fancy frills on it.  Both are Highland green… so dark, it almost looks black from some angles.  Though the tribute Bullitt Mustangs could be had in black also, and earlier tribute versions from 2001 also came in blue.  If you ask me, it’s a waste to get a Bullitt in any color other than Highland Green.

This is a 2008-2009 or so Bullitt Mustang.  It’s got one or two up on a stock GT Mustang thanks to the addition of bits and pieces like a tuned X-pipe exhaust that emulates the sound of the car from the movie, different seats and steering wheel from the GT500, 18” charcoal finished wheels, aluminum Bullitt emblazoned dash panels and door sills, an open element cold air intake, a strut-tower brace embellished with the Bullitt logo,  and a 3.73:1 ratio rear axle for faster 0-60‘s and better uphill climbs (like in the San Francisco hills chase scenes!).  The Bullitt Package cost a premium of around $3,000 over a regular GT Mustang, but you got 325 HP instead of 300, a 5 speed manual, 0-60MPH in 5 seconds flat, and the distinction of having a Bullitt edition, of which for 2008-2009, only around 7,000 were made.  Most of them are probably pretty well cared for and treasured, but certainly, you can count on that number to be less in terms of surviving Bullitts.  Aside from the normal accidents that can do in cars, Mustangs have a tendency to succumb to high speed accidents thanks to their willingness to go along with the desire of drivers who get behind the wheel and ask themselves, What would Steve McQueen do?, then try to fill in the blank by stomping down the accelerator.  The problem is, most drivers aren't as good at driving as McQueen was, and they don‘t necessarily know how to control that much power, so smash, crash, and call the insurance company  -it's totaled.    

So, while only one person in this whole wide world can have the actual remaining Bullitt Mustang, you can still manage to get your hands on a newer version for usually between $19,000-26,000 depending on condition and mileage -I’d skip the earlier 2001 version unless you can get it really cheap (typically, people are asking around $10,000 for them), because the look of the retro styled 2008 is so much closer to what the original looked like.  Brand new back in 2008, the MSRP was between about $31,000-$35,000.  If you get one that’s in good condition, and you take care of it properly, eventually, you’ll likely see a return on that investment.  This car strikes me as the type of vehicle that collectors will want to get their hands on sooner or later.