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The 1966 Fairlane was the year Ford re-engineered the car to accept a big block, and the GT and GTA came standard with a 335-horsepower 390. The difference between the two badges comes down to a single letter and a single component. Convertible production across the whole lineup barely topped 13,000 cars, and the performance versions are a small slice of that. Read on for why this one keeps getting overlooked.
Chevrolet built just 10,100 Nova SS models for 1967, and the strongest engine on the order sheet made 275 horsepower. This one carries a 632-cubic-inch big block making four digits on the motor alone, with nitrous on top, a transbrake, and a parachute for the 160-mph shutdown. Roughly $160,000 separates the factory car from what it became.
Ford did not build a new engine to make the 1965 Mustang quick. It reached into a completely different car’s parts bin, pulled out an engine that had already been proving itself elsewhere for two years, and charged a serious premium for the privilege. Only a tiny fraction of buyers ever checked the box, and the horsepower figure attached to this car deserves a closer look than it usually gets.
Enthusiasts have called the third-generation Thunderbird the Bullet Bird for sixty years, and the nickname has nothing to do with how fast it was. It described the shape. This 1963, built by Manns Restoration and named Black Bullet, takes that missile-shaped body and fills the engine bay with a modern DOHC Coyote V8, a 9-inch rear on 4.11 gears, and Wilwood discs at all four corners. Here is why the Bullet Bird is such a good canvas.
Chevrolet bored the 396 out to 402 cubic inches, then sold the same engine under three different names depending on which car it went into. In the 1971 Monte Carlo it was badged Turbo-Jet 400. Rated at 300 horsepower with 400 lb-ft of torque, it was a serious engine in a car built for comfort, and almost nobody ordered it with a manual gearbox. Read on for why this combination is so unusual.
Most people who can identify a 1969 Dodge Charger on sight have never seen one in person. They know it from a television show that turned an orange, door-welded stunt car into one of the most recognizable vehicles in American culture, and that fame ended up burying what Dodge actually built. Underneath the paint sat a genuinely serious platform with a real racing record that predated Hollywood by a decade.
Ford put one engine at the very bottom of the 1967 Mustang order sheet that almost nobody circled: the S-Code 390, a 320-horsepower FE big block that required a redesigned engine bay just to fit. Buyers looked at it, looked at the lighter small-block GT beside it, and mostly walked away. That indifference is exactly why a documented S-Code GT fastback in original spec is now one of the harder first-generation Mustangs to verify and to find.
The badge on this convertible says 1964, but nothing under the hood corresponds to anything Chevrolet actually sold that year. A factory Impala buyer could climb as high as a 409, and that was considered serious. This car runs a built 427 on a full roller camshaft making a claimed 550 horsepower, backed by a four-speed that never appeared on any order sheet in this combination. Here is why that particular engine choice is a deliberate historical joke.
A powder blue 1964 Lincoln Continental convertible represents one of the rarest body styles Lincoln built that year, outnumbered roughly ten to one by its hardtop sedan sibling. The rear-hinged doors that made the car famous also worried Lincoln enough to engineer a safety system most owners never knew existed. Read on to find out what makes a four-door convertible from 1964 this difficult to find today.
This 1970 Chevrolet C10 hides a 383 stroker under a hood that looks nearly stock, and the red and white paint does a fine job of not giving anything away. The Action Line generation was built for work, which is exactly why so many survived to become street trucks decades later. Read on to find out what Chevrolet changed for 1970 and why these trucks became such a popular build platform.
The name on these valve covers has shown up on three completely different Chevrolet engines across five decades, and every single time it’s meant one thing: this is the Camaro that isn’t messing around. Today’s version makes 455 horsepower and spits flames on overrun, but the badge traces straight back to a drag-strip-born small-block from 1970. Read on to find out what actually connects a modern Camaro SS to a Z/28 from half a century earlier.
In 1968 the hottest engine you could order in an Oldsmobile Cutlass was a 400 cubic inch V8 making 350 horsepower, and the only way to get a 455 that year involved a third-party company working around a General Motors rule. Somewhere along the line, this particular Cutlass got something neither option covers: a supercharged 6.2-liter engine that debuted in a Cadillac sedan four decades later. Here is where that swap really comes from.
Ford engineers had followed an unwritten rule for eighty-three years: production V8s do not rev much past 7,000 rpm without something breaking. The team behind the 2016 Shelby GT350 decided that rule no longer applied, gave the 5.2-liter Voodoo V8 a flat-plane crankshaft, and tuned it to 8,250 rpm. The result made 526 horsepower with no turbocharger anywhere in sight. Here is how they built an engine that could survive it.
A 1972 Chevrolet El Camino and a 1970 Oldsmobile 442 convertible, both freshly restored, represent two completely different ideas of what a performance car should be. One is a pickup built on Chevelle bones with a 454 available; the other carried a 455 making 500 lb-ft of torque and paced the Indianapolis 500. Read on to find out why one of these restorations is far harder to get right.
John Strewe’s 1969 Mercury Cougar XR7 in yellow, powered by a 428 Cobra Jet, isn’t a barn find or an investment flip — it’s a second chance. Strewe owned a Cougar just like it as his first new car, sold it, and regretted that decision for years before finding this one at a Mercury car show and buying it on sight. Featured on My Car Story with Lou Costabile at the Cars & Cops Car Show in Chicago, this Cougar carries the kind of personal history that no auction house can manufacture. Watch to hear the full story from the man who lived it.