 |
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 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.
This C7 Corvette kept its Stingray silhouette and almost nothing else. Between the frame rails sits an Outlaw 548 HEMI force-fed by two 102mm Precision ball-bearing turbochargers, a combination credited with 3,500 horsepower and capable of a 4.05-second eighth mile on its very first outing. It is a Chevrolet body wrapped around a Chrysler idea, riding on a tube chassis, chasing traction every bit as hard as it chases power. Read on to find out how a car like this actually works.
A 1969 Chevelle carrying a 540 cubic inch big-block and a pair of turbochargers is not a factory car with upgrades. It is a purpose-built drag chassis wearing a 1969 body, with an aftermarket block, forged internals, a fuel system that costs more than most project cars, and a chassis reinforced from firewall to bumper. Here is what that combination actually requires, and why builders keep choosing this shape to wrap it in.
Bobby at Alloway’s Hot Rod Shop says there are only two engines like this one anywhere in the world, and it lives under the hood of a 1955 Plymouth Savoy that looks almost stock at first glance. Between the Art Morrison chassis, a custom interior from Pro Auto Custom Interiors’ Steve Holcomb, and that over-500-cubic-inch polished aluminum Hemi, this build hides serious ambition behind restrained styling. Watch to see how ScottieDTV’s camera uncovers what makes it so rare.
By 1976 the muscle car era was supposedly finished, yet Pontiac was still selling a Trans Am with 455 cubic inches under a shaker scoop and a four-speed behind it. The catch is how briefly that combination existed and how few people could actually order it. This is the story of Detroit’s last big-inch holdout and why 200 horsepower meant more than the number suggests.
Tom Lembeck owns one of roughly 39 surviving 1969 Dodge Daytona Chargers built with a genuine factory 426 Hemi, and instead of trailering it to shows, he drives it through Chicago traffic and lays rubber in parking lots. Viewers called his willingness to use a seven-figure wing car ‘Hallelujah’-worthy. Once an unsold oddity gathering dust on dealer lots, this NASCAR homologation special is now one of the most coveted Mopars in existence. See what makes Lembeck’s Daytona different.
The 1969 Pontiac GTO everyone remembers wears Judge decals and a rear spoiler. The one enthusiasts quietly prefer wears neither. A 400-cubic-inch four-barrel, a close-ratio four-speed, and 445 lb-ft arriving at just 3,000 rpm made the undecorated GTO the better street car by almost every measure that matters. Here is why the plain one keeps winning the argument.