hot auto review

Military combat strategy is based mainly on firm objectives, troop strength, terrain command, maneuverability, and supply. But when Motown automakers fought the musclecar wars back during mid-last century, their tactics boiled down to a fundamental matter of power-to-weight. The factory packing maximum twist into minimum mass-the most horsepower in the lightest car-would theoretically dominate whatever acceleration skirmishes they engaged in. Armed with this elementary hot-rodding scheme as its front line, quarter-mile battle plan, Chrysler rolled out its prime offensive asset for 1968: the A-Body Hemicars.

Though those wars were fought in new-car dealerships as well as on racetracks, few if any of those 426 Hemi Darts (or their Barracuda sister ships) ever reflected fluorescents inside a Dodge (or Plymouth) store. Sure, they started out on paper as high-line 383-powered (GTS and Formula S) models, but they ended up as radically decontented lightweights-drag cars that could have coined the gearhead-dictionary definition of the term "strippers." Factory-formulated strictly for sanctioned straightaway competition, those 3,020-pounders were the most heavily delete-optioned vehicles ever to roll off a Detroit assembly line short of bare bodies-in-white. Finished without even a single coat of paint, the original Hemi Darts were in no way candidates for showroom display.

At final muster, about 80 genuine Hemi Darts reported for duty, deployed thinly nationwide among 170,000 or so non-Hemi '68 Darts. Most of the 426s saw service in the NHRA Super Stock ranks. And though powered by the same basic hardware the factory (and subcontractor, Hurst Performance) had initially outfitted them with, the lightweight A-Body Dodges still manage to cover the quarter increasingly quicker and faster every season. Starting off late that debut model year clocking high 10s at 120 mph, the same cars today-updated, upgraded, and refined under somewhat broader rules- run mid-8s at a buck-fifty-plus. Over their nearly 40 years of distinguished service, they've set records, won championships, spawned hero drivers, created legends, inspired volumes of promo copy, and probably even helped lure some showroom traffic to the marque.

The Darts' only drawback is that there have never been enough of them to go around-a fact accented by both the passage of time and the cars' current mid-six-figure valuations. To help resolve this perennial shortage, enter Norm Kraus, the acclaimed performance king of Grand Spaulding Dodge fame. Mr. Norm and his brother Lenny ran the legendary Chicago dealership celebrated for its sales and service of Mopar supercars. During the '60s and '70s, Dodge Darts were a house specialty, and Norm's crew often launched quicker than Chrysler could, offering, for example, big-block Grand Spaulding Sport conversions of the popular but somewhat pedestrian compact hardtops before the factory did.

Norm recently allied with Blue Moon Motorsports (www.bluemooncars.com) on a GSS Dart resurrection campaign. Blue Moon is a top-tier Florida fab shop widely regarded for its custom construction skills (including award-winning show cars, top-quality chassis components, and the latest generation of Baldwin Motion Super Camaros. See "Hot Projects," Oct. '06). Combining marketing and manufacturing muscle, Norm, Blue Moon's Al Kamhi, and some select aftermarket suppliers have now formulated a line of "new" '68 Dodge Darts. This time around, however, every one of these renovated GS Sports is Chrysler Hemi-powered.

Far from the radical weapons of mass acceleration that their forerunners were, these vintage Darts are nothing less than state-of-the-art street rides. In many ways, they're better than new. Not only have they been refinished and refurbished from bumper to triple-chrome-plated bumper, these Dodges have also been comprehensively upgraded throughout. All systems, from their suspension, steering, brakes, cooling, fuel, exhaust, and electrical equipment to their chassis and powertrains feature contemporary mechanicals everywhere.

In comparison to the original Hemi Super Stockers' austere outfitting, the GSS' creature comforts make them downright deluxe. And though they're fashioned after the infamous factory racers, Chrysler's old '68 Hemicars stickered at $5,200 and offered buyers one option and one option only: a choice of a manual or automatic transmission. But the Blue Moon creations range from a $149,900 base model to fully equipped versions with fixtures and features that include a choice of engine displacements, air conditioning, power assists, auxiliary coolers, thumper sound systems, overdrive, and a variety of trim options. So even though Chrysler hasn't offered a Dart model for 30-plus years, Mr. Norm's fresh incarnations-veritable Dodges d'art-should serve as suitable reinforcements.

The '68 Hemi Darts' First Tour Of DutyOnly partially fabricated on an ordinary production line, Dodge's original Hemi Darts left Chrysler's Hamtramck, Michigan, assembly plant in early 1968 on their own four wheels. But after ignoring a battery of factory build stations along their way, the gray-primered hardtops rolled without front bumpers, side glass, hoods, or hood hardware-not so much as a single outside rearview mirror in the entire troop. With some remaining fenderless at that point, the cars looked like they were still under construction.

Sans engine and trans, the LO23 models (for the first four characters in their VINs, with the letter O being the corporation's operative designation for Super Stock) were also missing their exhaust systems, shifters, and driveshafts. Same went for batteries, cables, trays, or stock front bars that could help limit sway. Not even basic fuel lines were fitted. The limited-production drag cars had no seats inside and lacked both their brackets and tracks. The window regulators, consoles, carpeting, jutes, and all safety restraints except for drivers' lap belts were flat left out. There were no radios or heaters, either. All sealers, sound-deadener silencer pads, armrests, and one of the horns got left back in their parts bins-all the aim of strategic slenderization. Though lots of this dietary stuff was totally deleted from the finished products, substantial fortification was added at the next stop. Still brand spanking new, the Dodges looked like they'd already been through a war.

From the plant, the Darts (and Barracudas) were tow-trucked to Madison Heights, Michigan, for further outfitting. Hurst Performance ran a mini assembly line on 11 Mile to modify fleets of Dodge Coronets for New York City taxicab duty. In prepping the A-Bodies for competition in that same facility, Hurst sledgehammered the right shock towers for valve-cover clearance and trimmed the rear wheel openings to fit big slicks. The high-rate OE torsion bars and front shocks were exchanged for softer six-cylinder versions, and new front K-members with special Hemi mounting pads were bolted in.

Shipped complete from Chrysler's Marine and Industrial Division, the 426 Hemi motors had been built offline by skilled technicians. Conservatively rated at 425 hp, the powerplants were swiftly factored to 500 by the NHRA. The V-8s were all-iron (4.250-inch bore, 3.750-inch stroke) assemblies with mild Street Hemi solid-tappet cams, 12.5:1 Dykes-ring pistons, and cross-ram eight-barrel intakes. Hurst issued Hooker headers and either TorqueFlite automatic or slick-shifted four-speed manuals, plus the appropriate wet or dry coupling in between. As with all of Chrysler's regular-production Hemicars, auto trans models received 4.89, 831/44-inch rearends, while manuals got comparably geared Dana 60s. And to match the bigger wheel-lug pattern on their new B-Body back axles, front rotors designed for A-Body Trans Am service were fitted.

Hurst installed the powertrains, fiberglass fenders, and scooped 'glass hoods. They hung acid-dipped doors and featherweight front bumpers stamped in light-gauge steel. Thin Chemcor side windows from Corning Glass were added, secured with seatbelt straps and luggage snaps instead of heavier manual cranks. A pair of fixed A-100 van seats sat in for the OE buckets. Jumbo-sized batteries got stuck in the trunks, and the left doors' mirror holes were plugged with export caps.

Primed for action, the Super Stockers tipped the scales at 3,020 pounds. Divided by their 500 horses, the math put the little Darts' power-to-weight ratios at close to six-to-one-a number unique until recently in the annals of the ongoing domestic musclecar wars. Strategically, it was this number that counted most in these Dodges' decades of distinguished service.

We're living in a time unlike any other in the history of hot-rodding, when the variety of quality bolt-on parts and the sheer numbers of pro builders are at an all-time high. And in these days of musclecar mania, it's no surprise that those parts and professionals have a tunnel-vision focus on the musclecars of the late '60s through the early '70s. Camaros, Chevelles, Mustangs, 'Cudas, and Challengers are hot commodities, and they're even hotter when they've had a full complement of modern, high-performance parts thrown at them. It's as if nobody does a chalk-mark restoration anymore unless it's on a real Hemi or rare big-block car.

Unique Performance has emerged as one of the leaders, if not the leader, in the realm of pro builders cranking out custom, turnkey musclecars. Started by three guys who like to build their own hot rods, Unique has grown from a small hobby shop into a full-on manufacturer of custom vehicles. They're not at the Saleen level and probably never will be, but we were amazed at the organization of the assembly-line procedure their cars go through and how much work (pretty much all of it) is done in the company's Dallas-based facility. In one door goes the stripped hulk of a '67 Mustang, and out the other side emerges a ready-to-drive car with all the right parts.

Unique's bread and butter has been its licensing relationship with Carroll Shelby, which has given Unique the rights to build what are basically modern interpretations of Shelby Mustangs. It started with the GT500E, which is a clone of the Eleanor car from the 2000 movie Gone in Sixty Seconds. There are several other companies building Eleanor Mustangs, but Unique actually has the licensing rights to use the GT500E name (though they don't call them Eleanors anymore).

The GT500E looks the part of the movie car but has a complete Pro Touring treatment everywhere, with options that range from front and rear coilover suspension to a full leather interior with a DVD player. The starting price for the car is $119,000, and for another 40 grand, you can get it in a convertible. The full-tilt model is the Super Snake, with a 725hp, Vortech-supercharged, all-aluminum 427 FE that starts at $214,000. If you check all the options, it goes up to $274,700. This car eventually spawned the GT350SR, which is a '65 Mustang fastback with most of the same parts as the GT500E but with a decidedly more race-car slant. It looks like an original GT350 with more modern wheels and comes only with a small-block (though the top option is an EFI 427 Windsor). Price is in the same range as the non-Super Snake GT500E.

Stepping out of the Shelby realm, Unique has also developed a licensing agreement with Chip Foose to build a run of '69 Camaros and '70 Challengers, as well as a line of late-model Mustangs. The Camaros and Challengers are built with the same mindset as the early Mustangs, meaning they have handling suspensions, plenty of creature comforts, and big engines but with some Foose-designed detail elements and badges.

On our trip to Texas, we had a chance to drive a red GT500E, an orange Foose Camaro, and a yellow '06 Foose Mustang. The Foose Challenger was present but was in its very early stages of development and had some teething issues that prevented anything more than an easy, low-speed testdrive.

All the cars felt very solid and well put-together, with doors that have a nice "thunk" when you shut 'em and a distinct lack of the rattles and creaks you expect from a nearly 40-year-old car. Of the two cars we were allowed to beat on-the Mustang and the Camaro-we were most surprised by the civility of the 572-cube Camaro, but the Mustang's rawness made it our favorite. Devoid of electronic gadgets and power brakes (though still an easy, comfortable car to drive), it felt much more like a street machine that you'd want to drive hard than the Camaro did. We didn't have a dragstrip available, but either car will easily satisfy your urge to do a big burnout in front of your buddies (or that schmuck in the Porsche next to you at the light). Purely an educated guess here, but the Camaro feels like it would run in the mid- to high 12s and the Mustang a little slower than that.

As you've already read, they're not cheap. But then, building a car at this level is expensive no matter how you do it, and Unique's clients are not normally ditch-diggers-even their brochure lists their customers as "celebrities, athletes, and successful executives." There doesn't seem to be a big shortage of customers, though. Cars are built to order based on the option list, and we saw between 15 and 20 cars under construction on our day at the shop. Want one? Check out www.uniqueperformance.com or call them at 800/418-4543.

One of our favorite stories of all time: Gray Baskerville gets invitedto the Grand National Roadster Show with his ubiquitous Deuce roadster,then when he gets there, they won't let the car inside because he droveit there in the rain, didn't clean it up, and the fender had a primerpatch. Same deal at the L.A. Roadsters Father's Day Show--they told him,"No unfinished cars inside." Ol' Dad was gloriously indignant, employeda middle finger to break the news that the car had been finished for 40years, and later used the word "jagoffs" a lot when he retold the story.

Now the GNRS has trophy categories for Suede Customs and Rat Rods. Thebig attraction at Detroit's Cobo Hall show is now Autorama Extreme forpatina-friendly traditional cars, and while the L.A. Roadsters stillstaunchly demand glossy paint, the major attraction of that club's showis the "unfinished" trad cars outside the fence.

Call 'em rusto rods, barn finds, rats, or whatever: Patina has hit themainstream. Not that the trend is new. Perhaps the first beater rod togain national attention was the Eastwood & Barakat '32 Tudor featured inHRM's Nov. '82 issue (and just named by Ford as one of the top 75 Deucesof all time), and the magazine later embraced oxidation with the BudgetBeater '31 Model A project built in the Jan.-Apr. '96 issues.Baskerville always called 'em "prime evils."

Since then, there have been countless ways to glorify wear and tear.Guys have driven legitimate barn-find cars, they've thrown modernchassis under rusty bodies, and they've compiled junkyard finds andveteran speed parts into retro rods that glow with authenticity andhistorical presence. More recently, '60s cars have been left withthinning paint and dressed in the role of old race cars with distressedlettering, a tactic that's been used forever to add the phony speed-shopname of your choice to the doors of old pickups. Faux patina has beenincreasingly used to make newly built traditional hot rods look old,starting perhaps with Norm Cooper's gag fiberglass '28 Ford that firstappeared on Power Tour(R) '01, resplendent in fake bird poop and veryreal flathead smoke. Others take the sham more seriously, and accordingto Brian Brennan, editor of Street Rodder and editorial director overRod & Custom magazine and others, "It's been a solid five to seven yearsthat the faux-patina look has been practiced."

"It's fun surprising preppy rich kids in their M3s and Porsches. No one expects this thing to be able to leave rubber at a 50-mph roll." -Todd Varble

But here's the latest rub: patina phantoms--cars that never could haveoccurred in history but that appear with the scars of a battle theynever really fought. The standout example, seen here, is Todd Varble's'37 Ford based on a fiberglass body, itself a phantom three-window, fromOze Rod Shop in Quebec, Canada, and with an LS1 small-block posing as anArdun Ford. The suspension is a distinctly unvintage Mustang II setup inthe front and a triangulated four-bar in the rear. The car was at the'06 GNRS and has already been seen in Street Rodder magazine, where itwas on the Nov. '06 cover, and in Street Rod Builder. HOT ROD sat on thephotos for nearly a year because, honestly, we weren't sure this was atrend we wanted to amplify. But there's no denying it has made animpact.

But how does it hit you? There seems to be a dividing line of lovers andhaters. Brian told us, "When we put that car on the cover, we got deaththreats, but we'll do it again. Young guys don't think it's at all cool.Old guys think it's very cool to be able to have their cake and eat ittoo." The cake is the attention they get, and the eating it is theability to build a fresh and reliable car without the hassle of havingto dig up real vintage parts. Plus, they're able to drive the carsanywhere without having to polish everything all the time. "The fauxpatina look is an expression of originality, and I view it as a positiveaspect of our hobby," Brian says. "But rodders who are really into the'barn-find' rods think it's corrupting the intent."

Indeed, rodders who pound the yards for true vintage cars and partsaren't as welcoming. Some see phony patina of this level as therich-guys' transparent intrusion into what was formerly underground andpure. Along with that comes the frustration among traditionalists thatthe mainstream audience doesn't quite get it, that they not only confuseillusion with reality but that they also miss the target. Thepopularization of the trend forces the purists to argue, "I had rustbefore rust was cool." It's like punk rock going Top 40. And Green Daysells a lot of records.

Think about it and let us know your opinions. Meanwhile, we'll leave youwith this Dolly Parton quote that was offered up by Richard D on theHokey Ass Message Board: "It costs a lot of money to look this cheap."

WORD FROM THE HARD-CORE

To get the flip side of the story on faux patina, we hit up the guys onthe Hokey Ass Message Board, the Internet's bastion of traditional rodpurists at www.jalopyjournal.com. Here's what some of them had to say.

"Anybody who would intentionally distress a well-painted street rod justto fit in with a certain style of cars needs to start taking his medsagain." -Thirdyfivepickup

"Looking at a car with fake patina is like checking out a drag queen. Assoon as you realize what you're looking at, you feel a little creepyinside." -Tinbender

"A new car with falsely weathered parts and painted-on rust, as much asit is a nod of approval to the style we love so much, is nothing morethan automotive plagiarism." -57JoeFoMoPar

"Cool: Stevie Ray Vaughn's beat-to-hell, battle-scarred Stratocaster.Not so cool: the Fender custom shop's replica of Stevie Ray Vaughn'sbeat-to-hell, battle-scarred Stratocaster." -Mike Zenor

"I like, or did like the patina thing. Unfortunately, so do others tothe point where it's been overdone/poorly done/copied/replicated, etc.Now the look is so abundant, it's not nearly the treat that it oncewas." --Groucho "Damn it, Freiburger! Due to CC's and HRM's incessantpaint-and-body issues, I've spent 30 years trying to eliminate this'patina' that you speak of. Now you tell me I've wasted the best yearsof my life?" -Ramblur

"An old car is a statement. If you leave your car rusty and worn, youare telling the world you are indifferent to its standards. If you fakeit, what kind of statement are you making?" --CaddyChris

"Patina, the new billet. " -Kickstarter

THE DYNALINER 1.0

Scott Whitaker is the CEO of Dynamic Control, makers of thesound-canceling Dynamat product. For the '06 SEMA show, he had his SpeedKings rod shop create a display out of half of a new Brookville '32coupe body. The car was made to look like an old Bonneville racer slicedin half down the middle. It was treated to Dynamat on one side and avery thorough faux patina job on the other. The response to theso-called Dynaliner .5, including a feature story in Rodder's Journal,led to the building of the complete and roadworthy Dynaliner 1.0 thatdrove 2,000 miles from Ohio to Las Vegas for SEMA '06.

Scott's motivations are more than simple corporate promotion. We askedhim why the faux patina, and his answer started with, "It's apsychological experiment. Everyone's favorite automotive story is a barnfind. What's even better? The barn-find race car." He felt he could usethat guise as a cloak, hiding in plain sight some things he had alwayswanted to try, such as a '37 oval-tube front axle, a Salt Flats chop, aMiller-esque grille shell, and '30s-vintage Rolls-Royce-style 19- and20-inch hubcaps. "We put stuff on that is not typical. The fact that thecar looks authentic gives credibility to the elements that are nottypical. If you put them on a more standard street rod, it would seemmore contrived and might not pass the scrutiny of the critics,especially on a '32 Ford, where everyone has an opinion of right andwrong."

"Even with all the modern clues, it's so convincing that people don'tthink it might be new. They either think it's legit or they end upfalling in love with the car and don't care if it's faux or not. Theresponse is overwhelming. It blows our minds." --Scott Whitaker

He also had Joshua Shaw create a full-press deception on the overallfaux patina of the car. "The concept was that it was like an old racecar that had lots of use but good care and shiny paint when it wasparked inside. If you found a car like that, what would you do? You'dbuff it out, and the paint would get thin where people touched it a lotor where it had gravel burn. And we didn't do any airbrushing on it. Allthe rust is real--we used acid and heat to get the real thing. I thinkwe came up with a more convincing look. It does not look contrived."

Even so, they gave a wink to the audience by including lettering thatdetails companies that were not in business in the '50s. "People's firstimpression is that it's a real old car, and that sort of blinds them tothe obvious hints. No one asks who built it. They wonder where I gotit."

But does it look legit to you? Parts like a real steel body courtesy ofBrookville certainly help, as do the Italmeccanica-blown flatheadengine, '39 Deluxe steering wheel, bomber seat, and '36 headlights. Soit may be a little fake around the edges, but there's no denying this isa real hot rod.

I’ve decided to throw all of my recent pictures together in to yet another video for everyone to see.  I’m going to try to do this sort of thing every time I do a lot of work so I can not only document the progress I’m making but show everyone the extra pictures I took.

So I hope you enjoy the video.  Look forward to many more of these as I progress with the project.  I just know that the burn-out video is going to be epic…can’t wait to film that one.

1964 Pontiac Catalina progress video, part II.

Part I can be found here.

~Craig

Thanks to streetfire.net for hosting.

Man, this weekend was a long one.  Florida treated us to some nice hot weather with nary a cloud in sight so we decided to just go off on a tangent and do something totally rash.

This weekend’s project started off in a really strange fashion.  You’re not going to believe me when I tell you that the whole removal of the interior started with me going outside to clean the windows.  Yeah, a likely excuse and I’m sticking to it.

You see, I knew that there was a rather large rust hole in the driver’s side foot well that needed to be taken care of before the car ever went on the road so I wanted to address that.  After peeling the carpet back a bit I just decided to gut the interior completely.  Thirty minutes later, it was all out, teal house carpet and all.  For this reason (and many others), I love old cars.  I also love the fact that there were only 2 seat bolts present out of a more safe 6-8 that I would prefer. 

I also figured out why the car was missing the driver’s side seat belt/retractor.  The bolt holding the assembly was cross threaded and snapped completely off.  So while I was there, I drilled out the bolt in a rather crooked fashion and replaced the bolt with a grade-8 bolt/nut combination to retain the $2 scrap-yard seatbelt (score!). 

The whole time I was screwing around with the seatbelt, my girlfriend was attacking the floorboards with a vengeance.  She was on a serious seek-and-destroy mission for rust, weird rubbery underbody coatings and other things that weren’t supposed to be there.  Somewhere along the time line of past owners, one of them decided that blue RTV silicone would be a great way to patch rusty pin-holes.  They also thought that spraying over rusty metal with rubberized underbody coating would be a good idea.  All I can see that the underbody coating did was retain moisture and *** off my girlfriend. 

Personally, I didn’t really care that some of the rubbery stuff was still present but she set out to make it ALL go away.  Armed with a putty knife or two, some wire brushes and a vendetta, shiny metal was once again present.  I couldn’t believe my eyes! 

Sometime in-between all of the cursing at floors, I decided to attack the trunk floor.  This was a pretty easy job as there wasn’t much left of said trunk floor.  It was mostly powdered metal that I scraped at for a bit and then swept out of the various holes in the floor and rear quarter panel.  Ashes to ashes, rust to rust.

It was a really long two days and we’re not even done yet.  I’m really glad that my girlfriend shares such enthusiasm and love for this car, it wouldn’t be the same without her or her hard work and inspiration.

Until next time,

~Craig

Photos by Craig A. and Julia C.

So, in my fuel tank conundrum that I’ve had recently, I decided to pull the fuel tank as soon as I got home from work today.  So now, I ask you loyal blog and forum readers a question:

Is this tank done?  Can I just clean this thing out and slap it back in?  Check out the pictures and let me know.

~Craig

Back in August 1966, when the tagline for Hot Rod was "Everybody's Automotive Magazine," one of our most popular newsstand issues of the time had on the cover a dune buggy powered by a VW Beetle engine. Go figure. Shot by the legendary Eric Rickman, the photo shows Bruce Meyers catching air in a Manx, flying over a dirt mound in the back bay of Newport Beach, California, long before the real estate developers discovered it. That particular car was owned by famed hot-rodder Dean Bachelor.

Oddly enough, there wasn't all that much in the issue about the Manx itself. Instead, it was the lead-in for a piece by Bob Greene titled, "Terra Firma Funny Cars." Surrounded by ads for mail-order dress shoes and study-at-home courses (the aftermarket was still in its infancy back then), the black-and-white layout featured a broad selection of homebuilt off-road vehicles and kit cars that cost as little as-get this-$75.

The origin of the Meyers Manx is an oft-repeated tale, but it bears repeating again. It started in 1963, when Meyers and a few friends were mired in the sand at Pismo Beach in a chopped-down, V-8-powered Plymouth sedan. He spotted a Beetle floorpan with no body-just an engine, seat, and rollbar-effortlessly whipping all over the beach with hardly a care. "What if that rig had a sleek, lightweight, fiberglass body?" Meyers mused. It would be more comfortable but just as capable in the dirt and sand.

Meyers designed a body out of fiberglass and went on to produce more than 6,000 vehicles, not exactly a huge number, but that doesn't include all the imitations-about a quarter of a million by one estimate. The Manx's trendy shape grabbed the attention not only of Hot Rod magazine, but also Car and Driver, where it graced the cover three separate times.

The Meyers Manx is arguably one of the most significant vehicles of the last century, not only for its record-breaking achievements in the '67 Mexican 1000 (precursor to the Baja 1000), but also for capturing the imaginations of countless dune-chasing off-roaders. His Manx is probably the most copied car in history, with literally hundreds of companies imitating the design, if not stealing it outright by splashing the fiberglass body. The Manx is far more than just a VW-based sandrail; it's iconic, a cultural way point of the '60s that captures the feel and look of a generation, a vehicular version of Beatles music and Peter Max art.

Of course, in the ensuing decades, Hot Rod magazine went on to bigger and better things, but along the way, it spawned all sorts of special-interest magazines for the kit, VW, and off-road markets. Looking back on it all, though, who's your daddy? Bruce Meyers, of course. More important, what's he doing now? With retro musclecars all the rage among mass-market automotive stylists, it's altogether fitting for Meyers to revamp his legendary Manx. Now called the Manxter, this redesign is historically significant as well, considering his role in the world of dune buggies.

Instead of using a shortened VW pan, the Manxter has a full-length Beetle chassis, allowing for four seats instead of two and creating a more contemporary, flowing form. More significant, the antiquated yet undying air-cooled Type 1 engine is not the only engine choice. On the Manxter S model, a modern, water-cooled, turbocharged Subaru EJ25 engine hangs off the back end.

It's no surprise to Meyers that his Manxter is getting attention. As he points out, "When you create something with an original thought, and grace, and a sense of balance in its form and function, it's timeless."

But Meyers is not content to simply rehash an old idea. The Manxter takes the Manx to a new level of performance using modern mechanicals such as the optional long-arm off-road suspension (on the DualSport) and a Subaru 2.5L flat-four engine. Do the math-a 250hp engine stuffed into an 1,825-pound car. That's the power-to-weight ratio of a Dodge Viper, but for a pittance of the price.

At the entry level, the Manxter sells in component form for a base price of $5,400, while the DualSport with a tube chassis sells for $9,975. All told, by supplying your own VW engine and chassis, a basic Manxter could be built for less than $15,000.

The engine is typically mated to either an upgraded VW Type 1 transaxle or a stock Type II with a Kennedy adapter. The shift action feels a bit weird in contrast to a conventional musclecar, but you get used to it pretty quickly. The slightly heavier DualSport version that we drove has more suspension travel and a softer ride. In either model, the Subbie power makes it a quick car-you can easily hit 60 mph in less than five ticks. Thankfully, the exhaust doesn't have that flatulent, air-cooled braaap-braaap sound of a VW. It's still loud, but in a more guttural, authoritative note. The turbocharger muffles the sound enough so all that's needed is a straight pipe for an exhaust, giving the engine a nice growl that turns into a mean bark under hard-throttle.

Given all the barely-used JDM (Japanese Domestic Market) powerplants imported stateside, the Subaru makes a lot of sense. You can get a basic, used lump for around $1,000, but a refurbished, turbocharged, show-quality engine will cost you $8,000 or more (which usually includes the adapter and computer). Not cheap, but considering that a tricked-out, 2,300cc, air-cooled VW engine with around 135 hp will run you $5,000, it's not a bad price-and the Subaru engine isn't even stressed at this level.

"Once you drive a Subaru, it's the end of any thoughts of a Volkswagen," Meyers says. "They could probably stay side-by-side in an off-road race, but the VW is killing itself while the Subaru is breathing easy." And with a few upgrades, you can make as much as 450 horses.

Modifying the Manxter body to accept this engine with its assorted water-cooling requirements was a challenge, but just the type that Meyers loves. In developing the Manxter S version, he looked to the midengine Ferrari 355 for inspiration. He mounted a small radiator inside each vented side pod, just in front of the rear wheels. This puts the weight down low for improved balance and handling.

Speaking of balance, Meyers was more than game to blast off a berm to re-create the Hot Rod cover from 40 years ago-in a Manxter warily provided by Mark Miller. It took a few takes to copy Rickman's original shot, but it's pretty darn close, especially considering Meyers had to slam on the brakes as soon as he landed to avoid crashing into a hillside. Meyers proved that he and his Manxter can still hang it out there with the best of 'em.

After looking through the blogs that I’ve posted about my beloved Catalina I suddenly realized that I’ve come quite a long way.  When I first got the beast, it had 4 flat tires and not a single hope in the world.

So, I put together a little slideshow set to music of my car and it still amazes me how far it has come.  You might want to do the same for your project, it’ll certainly lift your spirits when you think you aren’t making any progress.

~Craig

Thanks to streetfire.net for hosting.

Yeah, it’s been a while since the last update on the ol’ Incredible Bulk that is the Catalina so forgive me.  I’ve got tons of new goodies and picture updates for you all.

This weekend, my girlfriend and I bit the bullet and dove into the intake manifold swap.  Along the way, we cleaned, scrubbed and got really smelly with solvents and weird existing odors contained under the manifold of the 455.  If you’re anything like me, you’ve already become bored with words and just want to see some pretty, pretty pictures.  So I won’t disappoint you here, enjoy the weekend labor we did.

As a special note, the steering wheel is a Grant unit meant for a GTO or whatever.  I really don’t care what it was meant for originally, it was going on the car.  In fact, my girlfriend grabbed it off of the wall at the local speed shop and stated, “We’re not leaving without this.”  Happy early birthday to me and the Incredible Bulk.

Next weekend will be some more action.  Not so much flash though, the fuel tank is being dropped and some more cleaning will occur.  Stay tuned!

~Craig

Photos courtesy of me.

How about a V-8 two-door Rambler wagon for something different? Brian Gannon's specialty was restoring cars and bikes, working on everything from Vettes to Ducatis. Eventually, he began to get burned out on the whole scene, since it's hard to express individuality when it has to be factory original. Brian had picked up the little Rambler a few years back because he thought it was neat, but he always pondered doing something unique with it, such as maybe dropping in a blown straight-six or possibly a V-8. Ultimately, he decided to just go full tilt with the little grocery getter.

First, it was stripped down to a bare shell for rotisserie work on the body, which was substantial; getting the wildly unmatched panels to fit correctly was one of the biggest challenges on the whole car. For style, the driprails and the lock cylinders got the shave, and a custom ragtop inspired by '60s VWs was installed. Rather than base all his planned modifications on the questionable original chassis and suspension, Brian built a 2x3-inch square-tube frame and recessed it into the floor of the Rambler so it's invisible. After making room up front by removing the firewall and the inner fenders, an LT1 out of a '92 Corvette was dropped in using a Painless Performance harness then backed by an S&S Speed 700-R4. In the rear, an S&W four-link and an Art Morrison Panhard rod were used to center a Ford 9-inch stuffed with 3.73 gears.

Though there are excessive amounts of handmade and altered sheetmetal on the car, all the custom work on the Rambler was crafted with an eye toward a stock-like appearance. Actually, that's come back to bite him, since Brian tells us, "One of the problems I've had is that so much of the custom work in the car has a factory look that people don't realize all that's been done to it." Once, after looking over the Rambler at a show, a guy said to Brian that he had been pondering putting a small-block in his Rambler as well and was glad to see it was a drop-in. Of course, Brian politely laughed then explained the work he had done to the car, but if we had to choose, we'd say it's quite a compliment for a finished project to belie to the average observer the work put into it. Hot-rod guys will get it though.