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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.
A car that quietly pulls to one side or wears through a set of tires years too early usually isn’t a tire problem at all — it’s an alignment problem hiding behind three angles most drivers have never heard of. CNET’s Brian Cooley breaks down camber, caster, and toe in plain language, and more than one viewer went out to check their own wheels after watching. Watch to find out which of the three you’re most likely feeling every time you drive.
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.
Steve Dulcich and David Freiburger sit down to plan a small-block rebuild for a 1970 Dodge Challenger after its factory 318 got wrecked in a prior Roadkill Garage episode, and the conversation turns into a full history lesson on Chrysler’s LA-series V8. Viewers in the comments call it some of the best pure engine-nerd talk on the channel, right down to warnings about mixing cast and forged cranks. It is dense, it is technical, and Mopar fans cannot get enough of it. Watch to see what they land on for the rebuild.
Terry in Houston had roughly a thousand miles on a frame-off restoration of his numbers-matching 1965 Oldsmobile 442 when the floodwater arrived. The question he posted to a club page is the one every owner dreads: repair it, or take the insurance money and let it go. There is no clean answer, but there is a right order to think about it. Read on to find out what actually happens to a freshly restored classic once the water recedes.
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.
A stock street Mustang meets its match against a 1973 Plymouth Roadrunner GTX built and sponsored by Intellitec College, packing a methanol-burning, supercharged 440 good for 1,100 horsepower and a 9.20-second quarter mile at 150 mph. Viewers have spent over a decade arguing in the comments about whether it even counts as a fair race. It does not, and that is exactly the point. Watch the numbers do the talking once the tree drops.
The Fast Lane Car lines up a 707-horsepower Dodge Challenger Hellcat against a 306-horsepower Honda Civic Type R for a drag race, then does something more interesting: takes both cars onto a road course. The quarter-mile goes about how the horsepower gap suggests, but the track segment stirred up a comment section debate over which car actually won, complete with accusations that traction control skewed the result. Nearly 1.5 million viewers have weighed in since. Watch to see where the numbers stop telling the whole story.
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.
Behind a collapsing barn door sits a 1969 Pontiac GTO nobody has moved in years, and the comment section cannot agree on what should happen to it. Some want it stripped for restoration parts; one viewer wants it left exactly as found, rust and all. Several offer surprisingly specific advice on how to legally claim an abandoned car like this one for yourself. Watch to see the full discovery inside the barn.
When Ford pulled the covers off the 2018 Mustang convertible, the biggest news was not what got added. It was what quietly disappeared from the order sheet after decades of being the default choice for droptop buyers. What replaced it split the lineup into two extremes with nothing in the middle, and gave the convertible a dashboard that had no business being in a pony car. Read on for what changed.
The 1969 Camaro SS’s official order sheet topped out at a 375-horsepower 396, but a separate, little-known path let buyers get a factory 427 anyway — through Chevrolet’s COPO ordering system or through tuner dealers like Yenko and Baldwin-Motion. The rarest of those, the aluminum-block COPO ZL1, was built in tiny numbers and now ranks among the most valuable Camaros in existence. It’s proof the fastest ’69 SS wasn’t always the one on the brochure.
The fastest engine Ford offered in the 1966 Mustang had no badge, no brochure spread, and no salesman pushing it. It hid behind a single letter in the vehicle identification number, and fewer than one percent of that year’s buyers ever checked the box. What that letter bought you was a solid-lifter V8 built to rev like a race engine, and the details that give it away are still the first thing collectors look for.
Studebaker’s story starts in 1852 as a South Bend, Indiana blacksmith shop that grew into the world’s largest builder of horse-drawn wagons, decades before it ever touched a car. When it finally entered the automobile business in 1902, its first vehicle ran on electricity, not gasoline. By 1966 the automaker was gone, folded a year later into an industrial conglomerate with no connection to cars at all.