440 6 Pack, one of the HP monsters of the 1960's. Stop trolls by ignoring them.
It’s hot, I forgot my sunscreen, and my Irish skin is painfully reminding me of this fact. My Sierra Nevada has already gone from icy to tepid, and I wouldn’t mind finding a shady spot to rest. Suddenly, in an eruption of too big to idle cams and storm drain sized carbs, one of America’s favorite sound tracks bursts to life. Idling like bowling balls in the dryer, a gorgeous old Challenger 440-6 slips by, reminding me how unrestrained the horses were back in the 60′s before the emissions era shut down the fun.
Walking through the 27th All American Get Together, put on by the Goodguys Hot Rod & Custom Association, I’m reminded of my childhood. Though I’m too young to have sampled many of these American classics new, I grew up learning cars from watching my uncles painstakingly restoring them. While I might not know the ordering codes that told Chevy you wanted a 427 Tri Power in your ‘Vette, I have seen the engine pulled apart, and marvelled at the simplicity. From media blasting a frame, to affixing the bright work, I know first hand the passion it takes to keep 60′s era cars on the road.
As the Challenger rumbles out of view, I think ahead of the “muscle cars” in current times, and for a minute I’m a little disappointed. Either I’m still ethered up from seeing a spectacular car, high from it’s hydrocarbons, or buzzed from the warm beer, but when I look over and spot a new Challenger, my heart strings aren’t pulled. While the lines are the best of the new retro styled cars, the performance is fantastic, and it’s priced well, it just lacks the class that the old car had. As a self proclaimed dash stroker, I just can’t look inside the new car, after seeing the old, and smile. Where is all the chrome? Why is there so much plastic? That pistol grip isn’t on a two foot tall shift arm!
Surrounded by a vintage army of Detroit’s finest, I’m almost convinced that America took the wrong turn somewhere with their cars, and never found their way back. The distinctive styling and the too much power for the chassis engine options gave way to bland body lines, and a quest for MPG instead of 1/4 mile ET’s. Maybe it’s politically incorrect to say in this day and age, but every car lover has the desire to lay down twin lines of rubber, pollute the air with while tire smoke, and spew unburned gas out of the tailpipe of their big block. Contributing to global warming has never been so much fun.
As we leave the show, we end up backed up in traffic, and I listen to the barbaric music of ancient V8′s idling. At this point though, staring out the window, not moving, I have an epiphany. Never meet your heroes. While you will build up in your head all the fun you could have at the drag strip perfecting your launch, and straining for a few more tenths off the ET, you don’t want to see the ugly side. As I sit with the climate control on, my own muted 290HP V8 reliably idling softly, I see nothing but sweaty faces making quick nervous glances at temp gauges, the cars and drivers baking in the late afternoon sun. While American cars might not have the panache they had 40 years ago, they do one fundamental thing better: they are easier to live with. Whether it’s trips to the service bay, or not overheating in traffic, you can actually trust one to be a daily driver. And, as the frustrated driver of a 2009 Mustang next to me just proved, if you rev it, drop the clutch, and keep the loud pedal to the floor, you can still paint all the rubber you want through the first few gears and paint a smile across your face. Seems like Detroit still has the magic we remember, just in much friendlier packages.
-KF
