The reason there was no Curbside Classic last Tuesday was this: our camping trip to the coast was unexpectedly extended. We take our ’77 Dodge Chinook on deserted US Forest Service roads, and find hidden camping spots miles away from the nearest person, camp ground, and cell phone coverage. Depending on the mood, we can enjoy the dead quiet, or play the Dead as loud as we like. There is a certain risk to these back road jaunts, and I always calculate how many miles I would have to walk in case Old Faithful died unexpectedly. Folks perish regularly on these back roads, mainly in the winter. On Tuesday morning, having spent a serene night at the Cummins Creek trailhead, the “Hamtramck Hummingbird” starter sang and sang, but there wasn’t even the faintest sign of an explosion. Had be an ignition problem; the 360 always starts instantly, even if it doesn’t always keep running on a cool morning. Fortunately, this time we were a short jaunt from the highway. “I’ll just hitch hike to Florence, pick up an electronic ignition module, and be back in a jiffy”. My wife said “call a tow truck”. You already know who was right. (Read More…)

I just never know: is the clue too easy or too hard. The last one certainly was (too easy), and Educator(of teachers)Dan, who asked for the Fifth Avenue, nailed it within minutes of posting. Hopefully, this one will keep you going a few minutes longer.

GM’s decision to use its off-the-shelf 1.4 L four as the range-extender power source was a compromise born of necessity. The originally conceived 1.0 L turbocharged three cylinder engine didn’t exist (in the US), and GM’s pre-bankruptcy budget was a little constrained to spend the bucks for the tooling. The 1.4, in a different state of tune, is shared with the Cruze, as is as much of the rest of the car as possible. GM has made it pretty clear that the gen1 Volt is a bundle of compromises, given the time, technology and budget constraints it faced. But the gen2 is apparently another story. In an echo of GM past, Volt Vehicle Director Tony Posowatz tells Automotive Engineering that the engine options are wide open; way way wide open:

“That may be a Stirling cycle engine, perhaps it’s a Wankel, a gas turbine, a small displacement motorcycle engine– you can extend the possibilities to a lot of different alternatives.”

(Read More…)

Well, the Canadians might not be too big on hybrids, but (surprise, surprise) Eugene has embraced them fully. But when I first ran across this sign, even I was a wee bit surprised. What’s next? Hybrid Massage? Hybrid Organic Market? or will it jump to Plug-In Acupuncture? To get a better picture of what I mean, take the (full) hybrid jump: (Read More…)

I’m in that odd camp of being both a Scion owner and a Scion hater. It has to do with their gen2 replacement models, which all arrive with a death wish. My scathing review/styling analysis of the gen2 xB launched a whole genre of reviews comparing it to various greasy foods. The current xD escaped my wrath; I just couldn’t be bothered. And both the current xB and xD are selling at one-third the level of their predecessors: the gen 1 xB sold at about a 5k/month clip in 2005-2006; the current xB is down to about 1700/month. The xD has dropped similarly from 2400/mo (xA) to 800/mo. And now it’s the tC’s turn. (Read More…)

It seems unlikely: Canadians prefer smaller cars and those with high fuel efficiency, but they’re shunning hybrids. Monvolant, via autoblog, reports that Honda will be dropping the Insight and Civic hybrid models, due to poor sales. Only 748 Insights have found Canuck buyers, and even fewer Civic Hybrids. Honda had planned to sell 10k Insights in Canada this year. Pop!

The Insight has been a major sales disappointment stateside too. But here’s the real shocker: Only 2,272 Toyota Prius have been sold in Canada through July of this year. Are the Canadians hybriphobic? Or just genuinely frugal? (The two top selling cars in Canada are the Civic and the Corolla)

[Ed is away at the Nissan Juke junket playing [Magic], so I’ll try to keep the ship afloat today]

There are plenty of caveats and warnings  in GM’s IPO documents, but one doesn’t need to read all 734 pages to get a bit nervous. On page 25, there’s this:

“We have determined that our disclosure controls and procedures and our internal control over financial reporting are currently not effective. The lack of effective internal controls could materially adversely affect our financial condition and ability to carry out our business plan.”

For years, old GM had problems with its accounting controls and reporting (odd for a company run by head bean-counter Rick Wagoner), and in 2009 finally settled a case with the SEC. That supposedly led to a complete overhaul of financial controls and reporting.  (Read More…)

Beware of what you ask for. One of our most loyal readers and prolific commentators, Educator(now of teachers)Dan, expressed his disgust at the K-car Aries the other day, and begged for…this. Now I’m hardly an impassioned lover of the Ks, but I give them some grudging respect: they finally dragged Chrysler into the second half of the twentieth century, with a light, roomy and efficient sedan, an American take on the cars Europe had been building for decades. But this Fifth Avenue was a dinosaur from birth: heavy, dull witted, faux-luxurious, pretentious, gas-guzzling, plasticky, ill-handling…did I miss something? It does share one thing with the Aries though: it’s also for sale. But you’ll have to bring a tow truck if you just have to have this relic of an era that is best forgotten. Let me know, and I’ll put you in touch with the owner, who’s wife would be most grateful to see it gone. And she’s not the only one. (Read More…)

Sinisterman called out the K-car, and quite quickly at that. I knew those seat belt holders would be a big give-away. My usual CC gig is now Tuesdays and Thursdays, but I spent Tuesday waiting for a tow truck, deep in the woods. Maybe I’ll tell you about that later. So this is a Saturday make-up session. Meanwhile, happy hunting!

Seventy seven years. That’s how long Allen Swift owned this 1928 Rolls-Royce P1 Roadster, a graduation gift he received in the same year. When he passed away at the age of 102,  what may well be the world’s longest car ownership relationship ended (Guinness doesn’t keep this particular record). But Rolls-Royce does, and in their meticulous record books, he was undoubtedly the longest owner. RR bestowed him with a crystal Spirit of Ecstasy award in 1994.  The Rolls, built in Springfield, Massachusetts, had 170,000 miles on the clock, and Mr. Swift drove it right up to the year of his death  (2005). It reputedly “runs like a Swiss watch”, and is still cosmetically perfect. It now resides in the Springfield History Museum, as per an arrangement Mr. Swift made with them in when he was 99.

At least one Curbside Classic owner might be able to best Mr. Swift’s long run. This 1950 Ford was bought by its owner in 1964, when he was fourteen. If he lives to at least 92, he’ll have Mr. Swift beat. How about you; what’s the longest you’ve owned a car?

Hat tip to Ray Charlton; via christiancarguy.com

Suddenly it’s 1960 (again)! Well no, not that 1960. How about this one, the (more) real 1960? Yes, history repeats itself, and every so often, Detroit was forced out of its  delusional slumber and denial to face the music that always seemed to grate on its ears: small cars. In response to a growing avalanche of European imports led by the VW in the fifties, in 1960 the Big Three launched their first-ever compacts: Ford Falcon, Chevrolet Corvair and Chrysler’s Valiant. By the mid/late seventies, those were all gone, but the Japanese were all here. So Detroit geared up for the second big import showdown of 1980-1981. Once again, Chrysler’s weapon was clearly aimed at the traditional American-car buyer: more technically advanced this time (FWD!), but conservatively styled, still smarting from the painful lesson of their bizarrely-styled 1960 Valiant.

The K-cars set out to recreate the 1960 Falcon’s success, all-too eager to recapture its spirit: small, boxy, roomy, pragmatic and all-American, right down to the front bench seat. Well, maybe a bit too 1960 America; just like the Falcon, the K-car appealed to traditional American-car buyers, but had no apparent impact on the the explosive growth of the Japanese imports, just like the Falcon failed to dent the Volkswagen’s success. So ironically, although the K-car saved Chrysler in the eighties, it did little or nothing to stem the tsunami that ultimately overtook the Pentastar a second time. History repeats itself… (Read More…)

The classic front bench seat, affording seating for six (well, usually there was a bench in the back too, but not always).  But just how often was it used? My father couldn’t bear to have anyone sit that close to him, so the middle spot in the family Fairlane languished. That’s right, it wasn’t really about family at all, but for your sweetie to slide over and sidle up real close to the man behind the wheel. Did you ever see it the other way around? And with a necker’s knob to go with it, your right hand was never in bind, no matter how tight the corner.

[Update: My left hemisphere really predominated when I wrote this piece. Please don’t get the wrong idea: I was totally thrilled to find this well-kept 7-Litre sitting on the street in a neighborhood (South University) where it’s been a family heirloom for decades; possibly forever (according to a relative who came out). It’s an awesome representative of a class of car that is hard to find anymore, and my critical comments are designed to help those inexperienced with them to put it into context. The 7-Litre rocks!]

The sixties, that golden decade of American performance cars, had two very distinct eras. The first half was dominated by the full size bombers with their ever-larger big block V8s sporting dual quad or triple deuce carbs. Think Impala 348/409, the wild cross-ram Chrysler 413 and wedge 426, Pontiac’s 421 HO, and Ford’s specialized 406/427, which powered the Blue Oval to enduring glory, even at LeMans.  These over-sized sleds were the terror of the drag strips, NASCAR, and Main Street on Saturday night, duking it out for the glory of their respective makers, with the hope of more sales on Monday morning.

But with the arrival of the mid-size GTO and the compact Mustang in 1964, the full sized performance cars became doomed dinosaurs almost overnight. Yes, the big hairy engines were still available in them (for a price), but why bother when a dirt-cheap 327 Chevy II had a better power-to-weight ratio? So the Big Three tried something else to prop up sales of the profitable mega-sized rods, like this 7 Litre Galaxie. In the case of the Ford at least, the tip-off is the affected spelling of Liter. (Read More…)

Here’s some interesting automotive op-art to contemplate. Meanwhile, kudos to DaveWest for nailing the Cimarron, with this well executed comment: A Cadillac Cimarron with the hood medallion removed and modified to accept a stand up wreath & crest which has since been swiped? That would explain the duck (Cadillac) and the horrified expression (Cimarron).

What exactly is it that magnetically stops us in our tracks to look at a junky old car sitting at the curb and ponder it? Yes, it might unleash a treasured or long-forgotten memory of our youth. Or it might dredge up experiences we’d just as soon forget. But for most of us, there are only so many cars that afforded us memories of happily spilling our bodily fluids within or that spewed its hot fluids in our faces. In the bigger picture, since old cars aren’t exactly fossils or butterflies, they tell the highly variable story of the humans that created them: that rare spark of true brilliance, or the flights of imagination, for better or for worse. But all too often, it’s really schadenfreude. Yes, there are few things guaranteed to make one feel better about one’s own foolish mistakes and shortcomings than to chortle at someone else’s.  And today, I’m going to need a really big helping of schadenfreude if it’s going to keep me from slipping into empathy for this car. Because the truth be told, we’ve all built our own personal Cimarrons. Or at least come mighty close to it. (Read More…)