Antique & Classic Cars Blog

Incredibly, the last full month of summer is on us and half over–more than half over. Those green leaves’ll go brown, they’ll fall on the ground, the air will turn crisp and cold and the pleasure of tooling around in a classic car will diminish as top-down rides get brisk, old heaters prove their feebleness, and eventually salt trucks throw the white stuff, gravel, sand and whatever other sharp, gritty bits get caught up with it. Few drivers want that abrasive pelting clattering off their classic cars.

I’ve mentioned my ‘69 MGB GT but not posted any photos. As the last full summer month recedes into yesterday and last year and the distant past, it’s time to get this trusty ol’ Brit out a few more times.

The car was an impulse buy from a Georgia-based website, a vehicle my wife would be less nervous sharing with me than my wide-open, what-if-we-crash motorcycle. Sadly, we’ve taken only one ride this summer, out to a law partner’s house to cruise on Lake Minnetonka–not saying I’m sad about that trip, which was great, relaxing fun–just sad the wire-wheeled drives haven’t been more frequent. We’ll have to boost that number post haste.

If you’re harboring a classic, thinking once in a while about turning the key–DO IT! Beautiful winding roads, rivers, creeks, lakes, and rolling farmland are waiting for you. Weekend starts when you leave work today!

My high-school friend Don, after lamenting the absence of classic 442s on this blog (since corrected), sent in his own Eastern tale of some glittery fun in a drop-top Olds–a bit of pageantry, Atlantic City-style.

Ah, Atlantic City… home of the boardwalk, the Planter’s Peanut shop, amusement rides and ski-ball. Many were the weekends and the quarters I whiled away here in my youth. It’s changed since then. The casinos came to town and made it a more grown-up place, more a night spot than a family vacation town. They also killed Valley Forge Music Fair, a venue that once hosted all the big names in show business until the casinos lured them away. I even met Jay Leno, the most famous car nut in America, at a hotel in Valley Forge (some college friends and I had met at the bar) back when he’d come to perform at the music fair.

My brother and I were leaving as he walked in, no entourage or “posse,” no driver, no valet–just Leno, looking like he’d traveled a long way to get there. I called out, “Mr. Leno,” and instead of brushing us off after his long trip, he lit up just like his TV persona and said, “Oh, ‘Mister Leno’?–What do I owe you guys money?” I told him that I’d really liked a monologue he’d done for an awards show just on TV. We chatted for about 30 seconds and went our way.

I didn’t ask for an autograph, and I’m never sure if that offends or relieves the famous. It’s just his name on a napkin or business card, something to lose, whereas I’ll always remember his genuineness to a couple of nobody strangers when he could have said, “Not now fellas,” and turned away.

With its glitzy veneer and star appeal, Atlantic City landed the Miss America Pageant in 2003 and Don got his sweet ‘68 Olds 442 in on the parade–along with 51 other convertibles, one for each contestant, the current Miss A, and a (presumably local) VIP.

Here’s Don’s thoughts:

“The parking lot for the cars in the parade, as an added benefit for car guys, turned out to be a nice car show exclusively for convertibles of all sorts.

“Once all the cars were lined up, the coordinator placed the magnetic door signs on each car in alphabetical order. (They expressly said that drivers could not request a contestant, I suppose to discourage stalking.) Nearing dusk, contestants piled out of their tour busses one at a time in alphabetical order for yet another photo shoot as they jumped into the cars as we pulled up.

“Miss Tennessee Jamie Watkins and her chaperone and I had a nice ride. The coolest part was the police motorcycle escort up Atlantic Avenue after the parade – 60 mph, in town, with no worry about stoplights or crossing traffic. The red and blue flashing lights in the rearview mirror was a little unnerving…. After the parade, the contestants posed for an official photo with the car and driver.

“It was just coincidence that I had the [good] fortune of spending time with Miss Tennessee and her chaperone. She was very nice and was enamored with the car. During the parade, the car did, at times, compete with [her] for the affections of the cheering crowd – rightly so if I do say so myself.

“For the record, Miss Tennessee didn’t go very far in the eliminations at the pageant. I think she got about 15 seconds of national TV coverage. Nevertheless, I had a great time at the event. It was the best car show, parade, and police chase that my 442 and I have had the pleasure of participating in.”** –Don T., PA

**Long ago, Don and “the 2″ led some black-and-whites on a fast and furious Dukes of Hazzard-style parade around Delaware County. He managed to “flee and elude” (as law enforcement paperwork put it), but they did catch the license number. Today the 2 moves at more leisurely speeds, as Miss Tennessee can surely attest.

Simplex and Peerless were American automobile manufacturers in the early years of motoring. A long history of these vehicles would be….pretty boring, for a blog. Fortunately, the names provide the critical link to talk instead about a vintage movie projector I reassembled early this week for Parkway Theater, in South Minneapolis.

It uses a Peerless carbon-arc lamp and Simplex projection parts–see the connection! Any gathering of brass-era motorcar fans could easily segue into the discussion here. And the projector’s shown hundreds of movies with cars.

This projector and one like it served the theater from the 1930s to the 1950s. One held the first reel, the other, the second. When the theater retired the two old machines it did not scrap them, luckily. Instead the two projectors were disassembled, placed on shelves in the theater basement and sat there, largely undisturbed, for half a century.

I know the former owner, Bill, and the current owner, Joe. Snooping around for old stuff, as any car nut will do, I saw the old projectors and what appeared to be all the parts needed to rebuild them. Wouldn’t movie (and car) fans love to see one of these projectors in the lobby—a tribute to this longstanding movie house and cinema’s long history? Joe thought they would. So, after talking to him on where to place it, I carried up the best looking parts, cleaned them and reassembled one of the projectors.

And it looks COOL. Anybody who likes movies, mechanical things, and the Golden Age of Cinema can appreciate a machine that entertained thousands of people during the Depression and WWII years, into the 1950s. This type of projector was also used in drive-in theaters, one of the great ways to combine automobiles and entertainment.

If you find yourself in the 4800 block of Chicago Avenue South in Minneapolis, have a look in the Parkway lobby—especially at night, when the vintage black projector really stands out behind the glass doors. It’s always thrilling to find an old car tucked away in hidden storage for 50 years. But for the mechanical-minded snoop, there’s lots of other neat stuff too, just waiting to be brought to the light of day.

To appease my friend Don from Philly, my hometown, I asked for any 4-4-2 owners out there to send me a pic or story–Don having ribbed me for not discussing his favorite car on the blog.

DG, from “somewhere in Minnesota,” as he puts it, sent in this car, and writes:

It’s a 1967 Cutlass 442 clone. I first bought it in 1977 for what I thought was the outrageous amount of $1,200. Someone had installed a 283 Chevy due to the gas crisis of that era. I replaced that with a ‘72 low compression 455 in 1981, and drove it for a while. Due to time and money constraints, I was forced to park it in 1991 [when it developed] serious mechanical issues. (After all, a hobby is something you do with your spare time and money. With 3 young sons, I had none of either.) I’m now in the process of (slowly) getting it back on the street.

Th[e photo] was taken in 1990. Yes, that’s a yellow 1974 Cutlass in back of it. I still have the 350 V8 from that.

Here’s what the engine looks like right now. 455 with Modello cam, Edelbrock manifold, other mods. 4sp.

Other work completed is a complete suspension refurbishment and new brake system. Future mods will include a conversion to disk brakes. On the wish list is a Tremac 5-speed conversion.

The 442 was, I thought, a more refined muscle car than the others. For instance, it had an upgraded suspension with anti-sway bars and stiffer shocks and springs, things not available on ‘67 Chevelles or GTOs. Even when stock, this engine had enough torque to pull my house off of the foundation.

If he’s not been there already (I’m sure he has) there’s the www.442.com website. It’s a goldmine of Olds information, with pics, technical info, the works.

Thanks for letting me brag about my car.
DG

A few posts ago I told the tale of my friend Dave, from the local caffeinated watering hole, who body-surfed a stretch of pavement following a motorcycle operating error. Had no pics then, but Dave was holding court at Sovereign Grounds in South Minneapolis again today, with bike and cast on hand—that is, bike on hand and cast on hand.

Tank slapper! Dent comes from bars whapping into it.

So here’s the consequences of getting off your motorcycle before stopping. Casts always look cool and get a little sympathy–though a contractor doesn’t need a broken hand.

Hand vs pavement: winner, pavement.

And check this speedometer. If you can wreck one any cooler, and still have it work, you’re a better crasher than Dave. I’m not saying it’s worth crashing to have a speedometer like this…. But if you do crash, and it does look like this–and works–at least you got some art in return for the elbow and knee skin you left behind.

Art Speedo: Takes a lickin’ and keeps on tickin’.

Do you have a killer Olds 4-4-2 photo or story? My friend Don from Philadelphia came out to the blog and gave me some grief for having no photos or stories of his favorite car. I’d like to remedy that and need your help. Post a comment or drop me an email at my weekendgarage@comcast.net address. Thanks.

A couple posts down is a story on the Liberator Trike, which builder Mark Kallhoff assembles in Canby, Minnesota. Its market is disabled riders. The trike is designed for stability as well as access and overcomes a weakness of the early VW-powered trikes, which Kallhoff described as light in the front end. Some internet searches confirm that this was a problem.

Better confirmation came from a ride up Park Avenue in Minneapolis, where I happened to see a vintage trike with VW power. Its long chopper fork was elevated and the front wheel set into the back of an ’80s Dodge hatchback, which was towing the old trike. I rode my motorcycle right beside it for a close look and sure enough, the entire engine sat behind the rear axle. Whoa! No wonder the woman discussing the history of this similar vintage trike referred to it as the “widow maker.”

Yesterday, my esteemed editor at the paper, Angelo, stopped by in his newly acquired second generation RX-7 convertible (with 13B rotary engine). Main point of the visit was to help check for a gas leak, or for something producing a petroleum smell. He doesn’t see liquid on the garage floor and no leaks were apparent under the vehicle or in the engine bay with the engine running or not.

After a trip, we again stuck our noses to the engine bay and a smell was apparent. Close inspection uncovered no leaks and we concluded that it’s the smell of a hot engine with some petroleum sludge near the oil filler and filter area. After these checks, he went to put down the top, popping the two latches and hitting the power switch. It buzzed but brought in no extra sun. Later troubleshooting revealed that the seats were back and reclined such that they were holding the top against the car. Quick adjustment and “hello open air motoring.”

Most any car has its club. But Plymouth Reliant owners have to drive a lot more miles to run into fellow club members than those addicted to Ford’s pony car. Forty years on, you drive an early Mustang into a restaurant parking lot and no one comes out scratching his head. Instead they have stories and memories and questions for the owner.

Mike Patterson has had the Mustang disease since he was 16 years old. He was fortunate enough to have parents willing to spring for a car. His first Mustang, a ’66, was already more than 20 years old at that time, yet he talked them into it. He had the car into the 21st Century and parted with it only to free up dollars for a more special example of the breed.

Today Patterson has a ’69 Mach I, plus an unusual ’Stang—a Florida Highway Patrol 5.0-liter cruiser. I did a piece on this car, a Locals in Motion feature, and met Patterson in Eden Prairie to snap a few pics. I suggested we shoot both cars, which—and I didn’t think of it at the time—created a situation in which I would need to drive one of them.

Since the Mach I is worth more, I took the wheel of the FHP cruiser. If the body style falls shy of the Mach’s, what’s under the hood is equally enticing: a 5.0-liter Ford stroked to 347 cubes and ramped up with speed parts—to 500 horsepower!

I followed Mike to a lakeside spot and kept my cool, but holding your foot when there’s 500 ponies on tap is no easy feat. I was sweating from the restraint because burying that throttle would have been a ride to remember. And this is a Hurst 5-speed car. Grabbing rubber in one through four would have been gooooood fun.

Yet somehow, seeing the terror on Mike’s face as his newest prize blew by at 80 on a residential street would have been equally memorable for opposite reasons. And local police cars might have taken interest in such antics. Second gear was all she saw.

Though I click a lot of pics in the name of efficiency, I’m no photographer. I rely on my fully automatic Olympus camera’s electronic bits and the programmers who tweaked them. This shoot was a challenge because although it was nearing sunset, the big fireball was opposite the lake from where we needed to put the cars. We chose an oblique spot instead, more with a huge blue spruce behind than the lake and sun. But things turned out OK. I thank the Oly for that—a film camera in my untrained mitts would have produced pure whitewash.

As always, the shoot ended with way more pictures than necessary but a couple turned out all right. Mustangs are beautiful cars and a chance to drive one, photograph two and talk to a guy who loves these cars as much as anything in life is always a pleasure. So is jumping cross streets at 120 MPH in the FHP cruiser, but that was just in my mind. Don’t tell Mike.