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The 1969 Firebird Trans Am existed for exactly one model year in this form, wearing a color combination buyers couldn’t change and stripes that ran straight over the roof, a look Pontiac never repeated. This Ram Air III 4-speed example from The Brothers Collection pairs that one-year-only styling with a functional hood feeding a 400 cubic inch V8. See what made the very first Trans Am look and drive like nothing else on the lot.
Ford built the 1964-66 Thunderbird to win at the country club, not the drag strip, and for the most part that is exactly what it did. But buried in the order books was an ultra-rare 427 side oiler V8 option that dropped the car’s 0-60 time by two full seconds, and fewer than six are confirmed to survive today. Read on to find out what set this hidden performance variant apart from the luxury cruiser everyone else was buying.
Buried inside the largely forgotten 1994 film F.T.W. is a car chase sequence that has taken on a life of its own online: a 1969 Plymouth Road Runner driven hard through real stunt work rather than sanitized for the camera. Viewers in the comments zero in on the Shaker hood and the rare 440-cubic-inch four-speed combination, calling it one of the best-optioned Road Runners ever put on film. Watch the full clip to see genuine period-correct Mopar muscle pushed to its limits.
The Road Runner and GTX get all the glory from Mopar’s B-body glory days, but the Plymouth Satellite built the platform underneath both of them. Debuting in 1965 with bucket seats and V8 power standard, the Satellite could be optioned all the way to a 425-horsepower 426 Hemi. It’s the same bones as the legends — without the legend price tag.
Ford gave the Mustang II one final send-off in 1978, borrowing styling straight from its biggest rival to create the rarest trim of the whole generation. The King Cobra combined Trans Am-inspired graphics with a genuine 302 V8, a factory air dam unique to the model, and a fully-equipped price that pushed past $6,000. Read on to find out how one six-Mustang-II collector still had to go hunting for the one trim missing from his garage.
1964 handed the humble Chevy II its first-ever V8 option, a 283 cubic inch small-block available in 195 or 220 horsepower tune, right as the brand-new Chevelle arrived to steal its thunder in the same showroom. Over 25,000 buyers chose the small-block Chevy II anyway, proving this overshadowed compact had more going for it than anyone chasing the flashier new mid-size ever gave it credit for.
A 1929 Plymouth street rod that stops people cold, not for its paint but for what’s rumbling under the hood: a diesel engine nobody expects to find in a prewar hot rod. Diesel swaps are rare in this world because none of the easy bolt-in kits exist, which makes builds like this a genuine rarity on any show floor. It’s proof that the most memorable street rods aren’t always the ones running the expected combination.
Ford didn’t build the Torino Talladega to sell to the public — they built it because NASCAR’s rulebook demanded a minimum production run before the aerodynamic bodywork could race. About 750 were made, every one running the same 428 Cobra Jet, C6 automatic, and stretched nose. On track, it paid off with 29 NASCAR wins across two seasons.
Steve Beck bought his 1965 Shelby GT350 for $900 on his eighteenth birthday, hoping it would help him land his first job as a mechanic — it did, on the spot. Hagerty’s Breakdown series traces decades of vintage racing and track days at Willow Springs that followed, plus more than a few speeding tickets along the way. Fifty years later, Beck is still driving it hard. Watch to see why he never let this one go.
Chevrolet built three very different Camaros under one badge in the late 1960s, one dressed to be noticed, one built to go fast, and one so quietly race-bred that Chevy barely admitted it existed. The RS brought hideaway headlights and showroom flash, the SS brought big-block muscle, and the unadvertised Z28 brought a 302 small-block engineered specifically to win Trans-Am races. Read on to find out how rare that racing option really was, and why so few dealers even knew to offer it.
This 1963 Ford Thunderbird Landau wore its formal-wear styling on purpose, right down to the padded vinyl roof and faux landau bars meant to evoke old coachbuilt luxury cars. A genuine Limited Edition variant that January came in one color combination only, maroon over white, and leaned even harder into the elegance angle. Under all that formality sat a 390 V8 making up to 340 horsepower, plenty for a personal luxury coupe built to cruise rather than race. Ford sold over 12,000 Landaus that year, making this one of the more attainable classic Thunderbirds to find today.
Pontiac built only 697 Trans Ams in 1969, the model’s very first year on a Firebird. Of those, just 55 came with the rare Ram Air IV engine, and only 46 of those were paired with a four-speed manual like this one. That combination puts this car in one of the smallest production windows in muscle car history. It’s no wonder Ram Air IV Trans Ams from this era routinely bring six-figure money whenever one actually comes up for sale.
Muscle At The Strip, formerly Mopars At The Strip, brought the Mopar Muscle Scat Pack Challenge and Hellcat Shootout to The Strip At Las Vegas on April 21 through 23, 2017, splitting the field between 392 Apache Hemi cars and 707-horsepower supercharged Hellcats. Both brackets went to manual-transmission cars, an upset in classes the eight-speed automatics usually dominate. Read on to find out how the stick shifts pulled it off.
Veteran drag racer Nick Scavo walks through exactly how to pack a parachute for drag racing, footage pulled from the V8TV Archives and produced by Kevin Oeste. At speeds where brakes alone can’t stop a car safely, a parachute packed wrong can fail at the worst possible moment. This is hands-on knowledge rarely captured on camera. Watch to see the precise, repeatable process a real racer trusts his own safety to.
By the mid-1970s, most of Detroit’s original muscle car nameplates were dead, killed off by emissions rules and a fuel crisis nobody saw coming. The Hurst/Olds partnership should have died with them, but instead kept reinventing itself — from a leaky experimental T-top roof in 1975 to a 15th anniversary tribute with a distinctive small-block rumble in 1983. Read on to find out how this nameplate survived a decade that killed nearly everything else it touched.