Richard Petty’s own 1970 Plymouth Superbird hadn’t turned a wheel on the road in over forty years — until Goodwood convinced him to drive it again. The winged, 200-mph NASCAR homologation special that helped make Petty’s name (and inspired Pixar’s The King in Cars) gets a rare public outing, engine roaring for the first time in a generation. Fans in Petty’s hometown of Randleman, North Carolina still stop him for photos to this day. Watch to hear what a real Hemi sounds like waking up after forty years.
Some race cars get retired to a pedestal, roped off, admired from a distance for the rest of their existence. This particular Plymouth Superbird did that too — for more than forty years. Then someone handed the keys back to the one driver most associated with everything Chrysler’s winged cars represented, pointed him toward an open road, and let a machine that terrorized NASCAR in 1970 breathe for the first time in a generation. What happens when a 200-mph aero car finally gets to stretch its legs after four decades of silence turns out to be exactly what you’d hope — and also not quite what you’d expect.
The Car NASCAR Had to Ban to Beat
The Plymouth Superbird existed for one reason: to win. Its towering rear wing and dramatically pointed nose cone weren’t styling exercises, they were aerodynamic necessities that let Chrysler’s winged cars punch through 200 mph on NASCAR’s biggest superspeedways at a time when that number was still remarkable. The cars were so dominant that NASCAR effectively legislated them out of existence for 1971, restricting engine displacement for any car running the aero package until it no longer made sense to race them. Richard Petty, arguably NASCAR’s greatest driver, ran the Superbird during its brief, blazing window of eligibility — which is exactly why seeing him back behind the wheel decades later carries so much weight.
As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases.
Forty Years Parked, One Afternoon Awake
According to Goodwood’s own account, this specific Superbird had not turned a wheel on the road since 1970 before this filming. That’s not an exaggeration for effect — cars like this often end up static museum pieces specifically because their rarity and value make owners nervous about running them at all. Getting Petty back in the seat wasn’t just sentimental theater; it required trusting a fifty-year-old race-bred machine to behave itself on a public road after sitting essentially dormant for the better part of half a century, mechanical seals, fuel lines and all. The engine itself, a 426 Hemi built for NASCAR competition rather than street use, ran a state of tune far more aggressive than anything Chrysler ever sold over a dealer counter, which is part of why simply starting it after decades of inactivity is treated as a genuine event rather than a formality.
The Sound Comments Keep Coming Back To
Watch the comments under this video and one theme dominates every other: the sound. Multiple viewers describe getting chills the moment the engine fires, and more than one calls an unrestricted Mopar Hemi one of the best sounds humans have ever engineered. That reaction isn’t nostalgia talking — a genuine 426 Hemi at speed produces a mechanical density that modern engines, muffled by emissions equipment and turbochargers, simply can’t replicate. It’s part of why footage like this keeps circulating years after it was filmed; the visual is compelling, but the soundtrack is what people remember.
A Reluctant Slow Drive
More than one commenter jokes that the car clearly didn’t want to go slow, and that’s not just a punchline — Superbirds were never engineered for low-speed civility. The aerodynamics that made them nearly unbeatable at 190 mph made them comparatively awkward to trickle around at legal road speeds, with heavy steering, a stiff race-oriented chassis, and a big-block engine that’s happiest well above idle. Watching Petty navigate that mismatch — a car built purely for triple-digit speeds, being asked to behave on an ordinary road — is part of what makes the footage so watchable.
Randleman’s Favorite Son
The affection on display isn’t just for the car. A viewer identifying as a resident of Randleman, North Carolina — Petty’s hometown — describes him as beloved locally, still stopping for photos with fans well into his eighties, while the town largely lets him live in peace otherwise. That local, lived-in reverence adds another layer to the video: this isn’t a museum piece being driven by a hired demonstration driver, it’s a legend getting reacquainted with a car that helped build his legend in the first place.
From Race Track to Pixar Screen
Part of what’s made the Superbird’s legacy stick with a generation who never saw NASCAR’s aero wars is an unlikely source: Pixar’s Cars franchise, whose character The King was explicitly modeled on Richard Petty and cars like this one. That crossover exposure introduced the Superbird’s dramatic silhouette to millions of kids who’ll likely never see a real 1970 winged car in person, let alone hear one running. It’s a strange kind of immortality for a car that was built to be banned within a single season, and it’s part of why footage of the genuine article still draws attention more than fifty years later. That seven-figure territory places genuine Superbirds among the most valuable American production-based cars from the entire muscle car era, trading hands less often than their price tags might suggest simply because so few owners are ever willing to let one go.
Why Superbirds Command Real Money Today
Plymouth built roughly 1,935 Superbirds for the 1970 model year just to satisfy NASCAR’s homologation requirement, and survivors — especially ones with genuine competition or celebrity provenance — now trade for seven figures at major auctions. A documented Richard Petty association pushes a car like this well past ordinary Superbird money into genuinely singular territory; there’s no separating the car’s value from the man who made it famous on track. That combination of scarcity, motorsport pedigree, and pop-culture crossover is a big part of why this brief road drive, decades after the car went quiet, was worth filming at all.
Goodwood’s Philosophy of Driving History
Goodwood’s own events, the Festival of Speed and the Members’ Meeting, have become one of the few places left in the world where cars this significant are still driven hard rather than simply displayed, and getting a Superbird — let alone one tied directly to Petty — out on real pavement fits squarely into that mission. It’s a philosophy that treats historic race cars as machines meant to be heard and felt, not just photographed, and it’s exactly why footage like this resonates well beyond the usual Mopar crowd.
Watch the full video and tell us what you think – comments are open below.
Share your thoughts in the comments below.
Republished by Blog Post Promoter










