Ah, yes. We were cruisers once, and young. Ladies and gentlemen please raise your glasses in a toast to internal combustion, and my long-departed 1979 Formula Firebird. My friend's Chevy (in background) continues rolling to this day:
Posted on 06/08/2009 5:28:28 AM PDT by Kaslin
In the summer of 1980, I was looking forward to turning 16 and getting a driver’s license. All of my friends were looking forward to driving but none as much as me. My friends would be driving used Mazdas and Toyotas that got good gas mileage. But my dad bought me a 1970 GTO. He didn’t care that it got nine miles to the gallon. It looked like it was going thirty miles an hour when it was just sitting in the driveway.
Even though that old GTO was fast it had worn hydraulic lifters that were sucking away horsepower and badly wearing down the stock Pontiac cam shaft. Nonetheless, I put the pedal to the floor and burned rubber every chance I got – that is, as long as the Houston Police were nowhere in sight.
One night on Highway Three I began to hear an unfamiliar sound just after I floored the accelerator. I didn’t realize it at the time but I had merely dented the flywheel cover running over something in the road. But the sound it was making – coupled with the fact that it started just after I hit the accelerator – made me think I had spun a bearing on the crank shaft.
So dad and I went into the garage and pulled out the motor. After it was secure on the engine lift we could see the source of the noise. And we knew we could just pull off the flywheel cover and hammer out the dent to fix the problem. But we also knew it would be so much more fun to rebuild the old motor. My dad must have figured that if I was going to finish at the bottom of my class academically I might as well have the fastest car among the 3300 students at Clear Lake High School.
For weeks, after I got home from school – and my dad got home from work – we toiled away on that engine. First we started with the internal restoration. A Crane Blazer camshaft was the first high-performance extra installed. That went with new rings and bearings, new lifters, and a nice valve job – on 10-to-1 heads with 2.11-inch intake valves.
Then we got to all the really unnecessary aftermarket items. A Holly double pump carburetor sat on a new Edelbrock manifold. Headmond headers ran just below the stock chrome valve covers. We topped it off with a small chrome air filter that allowed people to better see what we had beneath the hood (plus, you could hear it sucking in air from inside the passenger compartment). Finally, there were nice Thrush mufflers to let people know we were coming long before we got there.
When we were done, my friend Jim Duke joked that he hoped his dad would hurry up and have a midlife crisis - so he could build him a hot rod, too. My buddy Terry Cohn said I had the coolest dad in town. Terry has always been wise beyond his years.
That GTO had other benefits, too. The first time I asked Jane out on a date she said she’d go because she heard I had a cool car. When I picked her up she said “This is it?” She was disappointed that it wasn’t much to look at. But after I laid waste to a few Corvettes and Trans Ams she changed her mind.
Those nights in Houston were legendary. Like the time I buried the speedometer at 140 on Interstate 45 on the way to Galveston. Or the time I beat James Armand’s 1970 Camaro in a race up Falcon Pass. That night, I took everyone’s money on the Clear Lake High School soccer team. Those were the days.
But my reign as the king of Falcon Pass would end in less than a year. Billy Peters had a cool dad, too. He bought him a 1967 Camaro with a 427 engine. Billy had all the extras put on that engine, too. And he topped it off with something I didn’t have; namely, a 4.11 posi-traction rear axle.
People always said that car would be the death of me. But, ironically, it saved my life – along with my buddy Wes Armour - in the summer of 1984. A fellow tried to end an argument using a 12-gauge shotgun in the parking lot of Burger King. We left the guy standing, literally, in a cloud of tire smoke. His Jeep wasn’t going to catch up with that GTO.
A few years later, cancer – under the vinyl top, in the trunk, and behind the wheel wells – would claim that old GTO. We would take the Holly and the Edelbrock and bolt it on top of the 400 engine in our mint condition 1973 Grand Am.
But things were never the same. In 1971, Congress would put a halt to the golden era of great muscle cars in America. Emissions requirements would flood the market with low compression, two-barrel, single exhaust versions of the old cars we used to love. They were merely shadows of their former selves.
Now President Obama is determining the compensation of GM employees. He’s getting rid of board members at GM and replacing them with those of his choosing. He’s preparing to impose new fuel economy requirements. He’s even using the IRS to make people buy cars they really don’t want.
Congress started steering the auto industry in the wrong direction many years ago. This new president is merely pushing down the accelerator and keeping steady hold upon the wheel. Meanwhile, our memories of the glory days, like so many youthful dreams, are fading in the rear view mirror.
I also have fond memories of restoring an old car with a buddy (Dad’s not into greasy hands). But mine is a 73 Plymouth Duster with a 72 engine. I do have a 70 340 I could throw in it someday. The Duster lives in the garage.
Those were/are/could be the days.
GM will not die quietly. Lets hope the grand old company will throw a curve-ball at Obama and once again show it is more than just a company, but a patriot as well.
In 1970 I bought a brand new GTO - Gold body with a black vinyl roof for $4000.00.
There is little more satisfying that rebuilding an old engine, putting it all back together, then hearing that initial fire of the new setup and the following forst cruise.
My addiction was old Mustangs. Sigh...
The FAA is tightening the screws on Gen-Av, don't even get me started.
It is a trend we may not be able to put the brakes too, as many kids graduating from high school have no idea what's under hood let alone what the difference is between a Constitutionally Limited Republic vs. the Ism's of Fasc, Commu and Social.....
Nothing sounds as good as a pre-emissions, high compression engine blasting towards the redline. I had a 1969 Plymouth Roadrunner with the 383 Magnum power plant. A very reliable car (and a very simple car). Plain as the Roadrunner was, I was still proud of it. I remember all the GTOs, SS396s, SS454s, Corvettes, Trans-Ams, Z28 Camaros and the rest.
Pulling out of the local burger joint or other hangouts, it was a requirement that you light up the rear tires on departure, and regardless of whether you were a Mopar guy, Ford guy or Chevy guy, conversation would stop as we admired the sound of another muscle car tearing up the road.
1985 Mustang Convertible.
1973 Mustand Convertible.
1969 Mustang Convertible.
I drove the '69 and LOVED IT! To this day I want another one! (Altho, the '73 wasn't bad, I didn't like the look of the stubby back end!
The funniest thing about all those cars? They were my MOM's!!! She just LOVED those 'Stangs!
Small block Chevies, Camaros and a pickup, were my youth, but my lust was for my friend’s 69 GTO, 400/4 spd. with hideaway headlights. Some day one will be my pride and joy. Some day...
This is the car I learn to drive. It was a 1970 Olds F85 with a 350 V8.
While I can certainly relate to Prof. Adams here, I would remind him that he lives close enough to Atlanta to perhaps know of the rash of teenage deaths about this time every year, as two-working parent, status-conscious families in the northern ‘burbs decide to live vicarously through their kids and endow them with V8 Mustangs, BMW’s, and other cars unwise for teenagers to drive. Shoot, I couldn’t keep my foot out of my dad’s Mazda rotary pickup— I would have killed myself with anything faster, especially in this city.
You ain't just whistling Dixie.....
Boy, this brings back memories! My last ‘pet’ car was a 77 ‘Vette with a 383 stroker, Demon Double pumper, 2800 stall converter, headers, etc. But I digress. My daughter just turned 16 so I bought her a 95 Saturn SL1 (the tupperware car) for $350. Fuel pump, rings, timing chain and head later, all done in my garage by me with no interest from anyone else, she has a car. Already wacked the front end, so a $25 trip to Pull a Part and now it’s Frankencar. You are right about nobody knowing how to work on cars these days. Back in the ‘70’s we had to know things like chocking a carb by hand and setting points with a matchbook cover just to drive our beaters. My son is 14 and gets his learner’s permit in a year and there is an ‘89 5.0 Mustang in my neighbor’s yard that needs a water pump and can be had for cheap. Maybe there’s hope yet.
This post brings back many memories. I myself owned a 70 Judge...and a 73 Nova...and a 69 Charger. All of them were purchased used, and in some cases (the Nova in particular), in desperate need of mechanical attention.
One of my favorite cars was the old family Plymouth Fury III station wagon. It didn’t look cool, but boy oh boy, was it FUN to drive that car with about 17 friends piled in it. Made going to the drive-in a momentous occasion.
I learned a lot about how to fix and repair things. One day, I hope to help my son buy an old muscle car that needs a little TLC. (I will not buy it for him, however.) I think he’ll appreciate it more, and I think he’ll think his Mommy’s SO much more spectacular than all the other Mommies! LOL
Regards,
PS: I’d pay good money to buy a real 9-seater station wagon again. Oh, and it HAS to have my favorite feature that isn’t made anymore: the fly window. Man, I really loved that car.
choking a carb, not chocking it. sorry
Well, I had a 1969 Chevy Camaro 350 SS, that we “tricked up” to about 400 hp with a big Erson cam, headers, bored the cylinders to 12.5:1, 2 680 Holley carbs on a “tunnel ram” manifold . . . and prompetly wrecked the sucker doing about 112 in a street race on n. 24th street in PHX against a 440 “six pack” Cuda. Unbelievably, no one was even scratched, despite complete destruction of both cars.
Fly windows? Do you mean vent windows? I miss those, too.
Fear not, Comrade. I have it on good authority that Govt Motors will soon roll out a new and improved version of this venerable wonder car: The all new 2010 BHO. That’s right folks, the car you came to know and love is revamped and betta than eva! It’ll have a Socialist Tuned 1.21 liter engine cranking out 78 thundering gender neutral horses and, frankly, delivering the most feel-good carbon credit scheme attainable in the business. Of course there will be an ample supply of vouchers for Katrina survivors and all eligible minorities with compelling life stories. Act now, we’re pre-ordering! (Only available in Red.)
Interesting that you mention how many people purchase high-performance cars for their 16-year-olds.
In my post immediately above, I told about a 73 Nova I had that I said “was in desperate need of mechanical attention.”
By that I meant that it had a top speed of 45 mph, at which time, the ENTIRE STEERING COLUMN began to shake violently. IF you could stand that shake, eventually, when you got it up past 50, it stopped.
For all practical purposes, though, that car didn’t go faster than 45, and it was PERFECT for tooling around town, but not on the highway. Great start for a new driver, IMO.
Regards,
PS: I paid $25 for that car. Worth every penny.
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