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A private collector’s classified ad seeking any 1968-1972 Plymouth Road Runner or GTX, project or finished, highlights just how differently these two closely related muscle cars are remembered decades later. Built on the same platform but aimed at completely different buyers, telling them apart takes more than a glance at the badge. Read on to find out exactly what separates a genuine GTX from a Road Runner, and why the distinction matters so much to serious buyers.
A black 1968 Pontiac Firebird 400 HO convertible is the spark behind this question: what were you driving the first time you hit 120 mph? Pontiac’s 400 HO packed 335 horsepower and ran 0-60 in 5.3 seconds, quick enough to beat a 390 Mustang, a Camaro SS 396, and a 340 Barracuda in a 1968 Car and Driver test. Decades before traction control and ABS, that kind of speed took real nerve. Tell us your car, your engine, and the moment you found out what both were made of.
A 1976 Dodge Aspen R/T doesn’t look like a factory Super Bee — because in the U.S., that car never existed. Chrysler kept the nameplate alive four extra years exclusively for Mexico, grafting a Dodge front end to a Plymouth’s tail and fitting an engine American buyers couldn’t get. One grandfather-grandson build project set out to recreate it from scratch, one badge and taillight at a time.
In 1976, a heavily built 1967 Plymouth Barracuda Formula S with a 383 big block got its doors blown off on Gratiot Avenue — by a full-size Pontiac most street racers wouldn’t have recognized. The culprit was a rare 1966 Pontiac 2+2 running a 421 tri-power engine rated at 376 horsepower, a model Pontiac once marketed as the GTO’s big brother. Read on to see how one of the rarest Pontiacs of the 1960s humbled a genuinely fast Mopar.
Alf’s 1965 Chevy II Nova SS still wears its original California dealer plates, decades after Hovey-Dallas Chevrolet first sold it — only now it’s a familiar sight near Seaview Road outside Adelaide, Australia, following a 2008 import. The car runs its factory 283 V8 and PowerGlide transmission, kept close to stock except for dual Flowmaster mufflers and a fresh set of mags. Read on to see how a documented, three-owner Nova crossed an ocean and stayed true to its roots.
Drag racing has its own private language, built from decades of garage tinkering and the founding of the NHRA in 1951 to take dangerous street racing off public roads. Terms like holeshot, Christmas Tree, and cutting a zero separate real insiders from casual fans. Heres where the culture, and its slang, actually came from.
A lime-green Cougar so radically reworked that showgoers assumed it was a new model altogether — that was Mercury’s 1970 El Gato concept, unveiled at back-to-back auto shows before vanishing for good. It borrowed its fastback roofline from a Mustang, swapped its back seat for a European-style cargo shelf, and tested run-flat tire technology that failed spectacularly. Ford’s standard practice of destroying show cars means no one has documented seeing it since 1970. Here’s the story behind Mercury’s strangest concept car.
The Hummer H2 promised military toughness but delivered a badge-heavy SUV built on the same bones as a Chevy Tahoe. Doug DeMuro isn’t the only reviewer who’s called it out for cheap interior plastics, poor visibility, and gas mileage that barely breaks double digits. Two decades later, though, the H2 has quietly become a favorite among off-road builders and collectors who don’t mind the ridicule. Is today’s punchline tomorrow’s icon?
Ken ‘Big Stick’ Godsey’s 1964 Mercury Comet tribute to drag racing legend Ronnie Sox made its first nine-second pass at the NHRA Holley Hot Rod Reunion — a wheels-up, bouncing four-speed launch that still gets commenters talking about clutch adjustment and crash-box durability years later. Barely a minute long and almost entirely without narration, the clip lets the launch speak for itself. Watch to see the pass that earned it.
A 1969 Dodge Daytona spent nine years sitting in a Kansas City junkyard, one of roughly fifty impounded cars slowly waiting their turn at the crusher after a used-car dealer’s title fraud scheme collapsed. One collector’s memory of a Richard Petty magazine ad is the only reason it still exists, and the deal he struck to save it was stranger than most restoration stories get. Read on for how it ended up winning a Concours Gold award decades later.
Jesse Matlock has owned this 1971 Plymouth ‘Cuda since 2010, but it took roughly 7,000 hours — about three and a half years of build time — to turn it into the car he calls ‘Striker.’ Lou Costabile caught up with Matlock at the World of Wheels Car Show in Rosemont, Illinois to hear the story behind the paint, the fabrication, and the name. Watch to see what earns a restomod the title of baddest Cuda on the planet.
A Muscle Car Fan reader recalls buying his first real performance car, a 1969 GTO nicknamed The Goat, for $1,200 in the summer of 1979, then living an entire high school year defined by drag races, a blown clutch on his first date, and a January night that ended with a friend’s Fairlane wrapped around a utility pole. Somehow nobody called the police on him. Read on for how the story, and the car, both ended.
Built entirely by one owner in a home garage and driveway, this 1968 Mustang started as a rust-free 289 two-barrel A-code car and emerged with a period-correct-looking 302 V8 swap, a custom twin front sway bar setup, and Spring Time Yellow paint. The goal was a reliable daily driver capable of real track days, not just cruise nights. Read on to find out what else went into the build.
At sixteen, John C. paid $700 in paper-route savings for a 1971 Plymouth Satellite Sebring, then spent the next few years turning it into a Rallye Red, leopard-interior statement piece that eventually earned him a police citation for riding too high. His story, and the garage full of friends’ cars parked alongside his, capture a slice of 1970s car culture that never made it into any factory brochure. Read on for the full build, the ticket, and the friends who were building right alongside him.