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Oldsmobile built 297 examples of the 1969 442 W-32, fewer than a third as many as the celebrated Hurst/Olds, then let the option code slip out of the history books almost entirely. A detailing crew just pulled one out from under years of mold with 60,000 miles showing. Here is what the W-32 actually was, and why even lifelong Olds people miss it.
There’s an old test for spotting a genuinely serious engine: does it clear one horsepower for every cubic inch? This 1967 Corvette’s 427 doesn’t just pass that test, the 435-horse version blows past it entirely, and Chevrolet’s official numbers were famously conservative to begin with. Between the two available 427s and the race-only L88 lurking behind them, this generation of Corvette hid some of the most underrated horsepower figures of the entire muscle car era.
You have finally found one. The gills are in the fender, the shaker is sitting proud of the hood, and the seller has a folder of receipts thick enough to prop open a garage door. He calls it a frame-off restoration and he is not lying. But on a 1971 Plymouth ‘Cuda, the number that decides whether you are buying a six-figure car or a very expensive replica is not horsepower and it is not the color code. It is how much of the original Chrysler steel is still hiding under that paint. Get that answer wrong and you will find out at auction, in front of an audience, years after the check has cleared.
Don Baskin’s name never comes up when enthusiasts argue about America’s greatest private car collections. It probably should. The Covington, Tennessee truck dealer has filled roughly 400,000 square feet of warehouses with more than a thousand vehicles – somewhere around 20 Novas, about 25 Hellcats, and a multi-time NMCA championship racing career almost nobody outside West Tennessee knew about.
Only five 1970 Plymouth ‘Cuda AARs were ever finished in FT6 Burnt Tan, and only two are known to survive. V8TV’s Muscle Car of the Week profiles the rare homologation special built so Plymouth could legally race the ‘Cuda in SCCA Trans Am — complete with a triple-carbureted 340, side-exit exhaust, and a rulebook-driven design most casual fans never notice.
RPO Z11 gave roughly fifty 1963 Impalas an aluminum front end and a 430-horsepower 427 that never appeared in a single Chevrolet brochure. The very first one built went to Dave Strickler, tuned by Bill “Grumpy” Jenkins. Here is what the option actually included, why its 427 has nothing to do with the famous Mystery Motor, and how the whole program died in a matter of weeks.
Plymouth priced the Road Runner to undercut everything else on the showroom floor, then quietly offered a 390-horsepower triple-carburetor 440 for $250 more. Fewer than 2,000 buyers in 1970 said yes. Nick’s Garage just put a numbers-matching survivor back on public road, pistol-grip shifter, vinyl bench seat and all.
A restorer who wouldn’t hand his own ‘Cuda over to anyone else, a paint color pulled straight from Chrysler’s loudest era, and a 440 that one viewer called “a monster” before the walkaround even finished. Lou Costabile caught up with Tom Benson on the Barrett-Jackson Scottsdale floor to find out how a self-restored 1971 Plymouth ‘Cuda ended up looking factory-fresh in Sassy Grass Green. The comments reveal an even wilder history hiding behind that color code. What was it actually like to own one of these new?
Chevrolet sold the 1970 Super Sport as a checkbox on a Malibu order form, not as its own model – which is why a genuine SS and a well-built tribute carry the same VIN format. A ,995 big-block car in Iowa puts the problem in sharp relief. Here is the documentation that separates a ,000 driver from a ,000 collectible.
The 400 small-block is mostly remembered for something almost embarrassing: which parts from other small-blocks will not bolt onto it. This guide traces Chevrolet’s 4.0-inch bore small-block family — the race-bred 302, the ubiquitous 350, and the siamese-bore 400 — and explains the external-balance quirk that catches out first-time engine swappers. Read on to find out how to tell these engines apart before you buy or build one.
Only about 3,097 Buicks got the 455 Stage 1 engine in 1970, and its 510 lb-ft of torque beat every Hemi and LS6 on the street. So why does nobody count it? The answer is sitting in a Chicago driveway, painted gold, with an automatic behind it.
The 2018 Chevrolet Tahoe RST pairs a 420-horsepower, 460-lb-ft 6.2-liter V8 with a 10-speed automatic shared with the Camaro ZL1, hitting 60 mph in a claimed 5.7 seconds while still towing up to 8,300 pounds. Choosing that engine also unlocks Magnetic Ride Control, plus optional Borla exhaust and Brembo brakes. It’s proof Chevy is willing to loan its performance parts bin to the family truck.
Ryan Snyder’s warehouses hold 11 Yenko Camaros, ZL-1 number 65, and a Z/28 wearing a color Chevrolet never sold to the public. Muscle Car Campy got a camera inside for a half-hour walkthrough of the Chevrolet building alone. The rarest car on the floor isn’t the one most people would guess.
Joe Martin spent seven seasons on Iron Resurrection finishing cars that belonged to somebody else. His own buildings hold a Buick Riviera, a Pontiac Catalina, a 1956 pickup, a speedboat and one all-aluminum Ferrari 360 – and not one of them is parked there because of a number on a fender tag. Here is what a real builder keeps when nobody is filming.
‘She’s real fine, my 409’ turned a Chevy engine option into one of the most quoted lyrics in hot rod history — and this 1962 Impala carries the exact engine the Beach Boys were singing about. The real surprise is how fast that combination actually was on the street, not just on the radio.