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The 440 Six Barrel gave the 1970 Road Runner three two-barrel carburetors, 390 horsepower, 490 lb-ft of torque, and a Dana 60 rear axle — the same hardware the mid-1969 A12 package introduced with its pinned-down fiberglass hood and hubcap-less steel wheels. Just 1,815 were built for 1970, and it ran the quarter mile in the low thirteens. Read on for why it was the smarter buy than a Hemi.

A running second-generation Camaro can still be bought for the price of a tired commuter car, and the aftermarket supports it like a Mustang. Chevrolet built 282,571 Camaros in 1979 alone, which is exactly why the unloved big-bumper years remain the cheapest honest door into classic muscle. The catch is a short list of rust spots that quietly turn a bargain into a parts car.

A restoration shop owner walks through the pre-purchase inspection he runs on every classic car that rolls into his shop, and almost none of it involves the engine. Body filler has a practical limit of about 6mm before it cracks, which is why a cloth-wrapped magnet finds trouble faster than a flashlight does. Here is the full checklist, plus the old-school tricks his viewers swear by.

There’s an old test for spotting a genuinely serious engine: does it clear one horsepower for every cubic inch? This 1967 Corvette’s 427 doesn’t just pass that test, the 435-horse version blows past it entirely, and Chevrolet’s official numbers were famously conservative to begin with. Between the two available 427s and the race-only L88 lurking behind them, this generation of Corvette hid some of the most underrated horsepower figures of the entire muscle car era.

You have finally found one. The gills are in the fender, the shaker is sitting proud of the hood, and the seller has a folder of receipts thick enough to prop open a garage door. He calls it a frame-off restoration and he is not lying. But on a 1971 Plymouth ‘Cuda, the number that decides whether you are buying a six-figure car or a very expensive replica is not horsepower and it is not the color code. It is how much of the original Chrysler steel is still hiding under that paint. Get that answer wrong and you will find out at auction, in front of an audience, years after the check has cleared.

Don Baskin’s name never comes up when enthusiasts argue about America’s greatest private car collections. It probably should. The Covington, Tennessee truck dealer has filled roughly 400,000 square feet of warehouses with more than a thousand vehicles – somewhere around 20 Novas, about 25 Hellcats, and a multi-time NMCA championship racing career almost nobody outside West Tennessee knew about.

RPO Z11 gave roughly fifty 1963 Impalas an aluminum front end and a 430-horsepower 427 that never appeared in a single Chevrolet brochure. The very first one built went to Dave Strickler, tuned by Bill “Grumpy” Jenkins. Here is what the option actually included, why its 427 has nothing to do with the famous Mystery Motor, and how the whole program died in a matter of weeks.

A restorer who wouldn’t hand his own ‘Cuda over to anyone else, a paint color pulled straight from Chrysler’s loudest era, and a 440 that one viewer called “a monster” before the walkaround even finished. Lou Costabile caught up with Tom Benson on the Barrett-Jackson Scottsdale floor to find out how a self-restored 1971 Plymouth ‘Cuda ended up looking factory-fresh in Sassy Grass Green. The comments reveal an even wilder history hiding behind that color code. What was it actually like to own one of these new?


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