Hollywood built eleven Mustangs to play Eleanor in the 2000 remake of Gone in 60 Seconds, and only three of them could actually be driven. None was a real Shelby GT500. A quarter century later the replica business built around that car is still going, now offering twin-turbocharged and Coyote-powered versions the film cars never had, and a federal appeals court has finally settled the long-running fight over who is allowed to build them. Read on to find out how a movie prop became one of the most copied Mustangs ever made.
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Plymouth gave the 1971 ‘Cuda a face it wore for exactly one model year: four headlights and a set of non-functional gills stamped into the front fenders. Behind that one-year-only sheet metal sat an engine list running from a 340 small-block to the 426 HEMI in its final season, and production numbers so small that some combinations can be counted on two hands. It was also the last year Plymouth offered any of it. Read on to find out why 1971 became the most collectible year in the car’s history.
The 1970 Charger R/T SE is the version that confuses people. R/T meant 440 Magnum, heavy-duty everything, and 375 horsepower. SE meant leather, wood grain, and deep-dish wheel covers. Combining them produced a car that Dodge itself struggled to explain, and only a small fraction of 1970 R/T buyers ordered it. Here is what that combination was actually for.
By 1973 the Road Runner had a five-mile-per-hour bumper, a catalytic-converter-ready exhaust on the horizon, and horsepower ratings that had switched from gross to net. It also had a 440 four-barrel and the last 340 small block Chrysler ever built. This is the year everyone skips, and it is the year that quietly offers the best value in the entire Road Runner run.
A Plum Crazy Purple 1970 Dodge Coronet Super Bee, loaded with a 440 Six Pack, four-speed pistol-grip shifter, and white bucket seats, stopped traffic at the World of Wheels show in Rosemont, Illinois. One viewer owned nearly the same car at seventeen. Another notes cars like it have become darlings of the Mecum auction circuit. Watch the full walk-around to see why.
American Motors had no performance reputation, no factory racing program, and no money. So in 1969 it handed a compact Rambler to George Hurst, dropped in a 390, and sold the result for under three thousand dollars. Only 1,512 were built, every single one with a four-speed, and the thing ran quarter miles that embarrassed cars costing twice as much. The SC/Rambler remains the strangest bargain Detroit ever produced.
A 1937 Dodge Brothers coupe that covers thousand-mile cruises in air-conditioned comfort, wearing Mopar’s Plum Crazy purple three decades before the color existed, stopping on power discs and running a 350-horsepower Chevrolet small-block through a TH350 into a Ford 9-inch. On paper it is three brands arguing under one all-steel body. In practice it is one of the most sensible ways to build a prewar car you actually intend to drive. Read on to find out why every part of that combination was chosen on purpose.
The 1970 Torino Cobra with the 429 Super Cobra Jet is the muscle car that most enthusiasts can name and almost none have driven. Ford rated it at 375 horsepower, five more than the standard Cobra Jet, but the interesting part is what those five horsepower were hiding. The SCJ was not a tuning exercise. It was a structurally different engine, and you could only get it by ordering something else entirely.
The 2012 Camaro ZL1 brings 580 supercharged horsepower to the line. The Boss 302 counters with 444 naturally aspirated ones. On paper it should be over before it starts, and yet quarter-mile results from the era put these two within a couple of tenths of each other. Weight, gearing, and two completely different engineering briefs explain why, and why the argument still comes up two decades on.
A growing number of Camaro builders have decided the ceiling on a usable street car sits around 400 horsepower, not four figures. The Pro Daily approach borrows suspension and brake thinking from pro touring, keeps the air conditioning and reliability of a real driver, and puts the money into everything except peak output. The result routinely out-drives cars with twice the power. Here is the reasoning behind it.
Every 1967 Shelby GT500 that left the factory carried a 428, not a 427. So when a GT500 shows up with a genuine side-oiler under the hood, the first question is whether you are looking at a very good engine swap or something considerably rarer. There is exactly one factory answer to that question, and its story involves a test track, a set of tires, and a car Ford was afraid to sell.
Scottie fell for this 1963 Chevrolet Corvette Custom, nicknamed ‘Split Second,’ before its hood was even open at the 2017 Detroit AutoRama, and the stack-injected 327 waiting underneath only sealed the deal. Built around Corvette’s famous one-year-only split rear window, the car blends vintage styling with a modern, iPod-integrated interior. One viewer called it the only C1 Corvette they have ever genuinely liked. See what makes ‘Split Second’ stand apart from typical Corvette customs.
Project Deep South is a 1957 Chevrolet Bel Air rebuilt the way tri-five Chevys have been rebuilt for sixty years, by keeping the shape and replacing nearly everything else. An LS3 sits where a 235 cubic inch straight-six once lived, the chrome is blacked out, the paint is candy apple, and the stance is set low. Here is why this particular body became the default canvas for American custom car building.
Three second-generation Camaros sit together, and they split two-to-one between Pro Touring and Pro Street. That ratio is not an accident, because the 1970 to 1981 Camaro has spent decades being pulled in two completely opposite directions by builders who cannot agree on what the car is for. One side wants corners. The other wants a clean sixty-foot time. Read on to find out why this particular body keeps ending up on both sides of the argument.
Park a 1968 Camaro RS beside a 1969 SS and most people see two versions of the same car. They are not. One year separates a subtle, almost European-looking coupe from the aggressive, creased shape that became the definitive first-generation Camaro. Understanding what changed, and why RS and SS were never the same kind of option, explains why these two cars command such different money today.
