Cal, I was looking at your post about your first car. I've noticed that people always remember their first car. My first car was a 1974 Valiant that my Dad handed down to me when I left for college in 1976. He'd already put 50,000 miles on it in just short of two years and I got that car instead of my mom's old 1969 Chrysler Newport (which I really wanted) because my mom HATED the Valiant! She never could get it to start for her!
It was not a good car...1974 was the year the government piled on the emissions control, the stupid seatbelts that buzzed if they weren't fastened and other dumb ideas. It was underpowered-the Valiants with 225 Slant Six lost 50 horsepower between 1969 and 1974, it had crappy 4 wheel drum manual brakes and the only options it really had were power steering and an AM radio and A/C. The poor thing would only do 85 floorboarded! And with all the emissions control crap, the best gas mileage was about 8 MPG in town and 15-16 on the highway!
But, I had a lot of good times in that car. If I had the $$$$ I'd get my hands on another one and upgrade it with a 5.7 Hemi crate motor, a heavy duty rear end, big four wheel disc brakes and a really good sound system. Excessive? Yup-but damn it'd be fun!
Oh, and Cal ? if you'd been a dentist, you'd have bought a NEW Leica !
MFM,
You reminded me of how bad the brakes were on the 67 Mustang convertable. No power assist and basically I would use both feet on the brake peddle and pull on the steering wheel for additional braking power.
The old slant sixes were known to be durable, but post 73 the pollution controls curbed any performance. Also the bumpers got mighty clunky and ugly.
On the parkway I tried to impress my friends and I raced the car against another friend. My Mustang had the 289 V-8, but floored could only do 85 MPH. It was a pig. Also handling wise it had mucho body roll. What do you expect from a car that cost $75.00.
The 67 Volvo 122S cost me a wopping $300.00 and was a real car that had sporty handling. I really liked how I could control the drift of the rear end with the throttle, and this is how I steered the car. I installed speakers in the doors and used them as baffles and got deep bass. The styling was cool: looked like a 3/4's sized 1954 Chevy.
I remember being really high and me and two friends were racing to Captree to catch a charter boat to go fishing. The Volvo could only do 100 MPH and we rocked back and forth in the car in unison as if we were rowing a boat trying to go faster.
The vacant toll booths came up and I momentarily just took my foot off the gas and we coasted through the toll booths likely at 90-95 MPH. There is a lot of physics going on. Drag follows inverse square law. At 100 MPH there is four times as much drag than at 50 MPH.
The Mustang would be an interesting project today. With this car ther is such a strong aftermarket. I could buy a turnkey suspension that would stiffen and lower the car so it could outdo a ZR-1 Corvette on a skid pad. Oh-what crazy fun and possibilities.
In reality there was not a lot of good parts on my old Mustang and knowing me the only thing useful on the old Mustang was likely the VIN number because I would likely would of recreated it with all new beefy high performance parts.
On the Upper Eastside someone owns a Ford GT 350 with the flat plane cranked V-8 that redlines at 8200 RPM. The sound of the exhaust is muy macho and I totally love that sound. Pretty much it is built like a Ferrarri engine where opposing cylander scavenges the exhaust more effectively allowing a V-8 to rev like a motorcycle engine.
So I have to tell you a Mustang story. My best friend Billy was in the passenger seat and there were 4 of us in the car. One guy I didn't know well, and on this rainy day in the Long Island suburbs the four of us were parked, drinking, and getting stoned.
I think Gary was his name. Don't believe weed effects the memory, I believe it just makes one believe in other possibilities, so even though it was 42 years ago his name was Gary. I'm pretty sure...
So Gary asks Billy to let him out so he can take a leak, then after a while we see that something is not right because we see Gary running towards the car for his life and this old Italian man wearing a muscle shirt chasing after Gary. So like some Fellini film I take notice as Gary's hand grabs the handle of the Mustang's door I hear a firm click as Billy casually lifts his elbow to depress the door lock.
The next thing you know is that the car is rocking and shaking. This old man has Gary pinned against the convertible top with one hand and is punching him with the other.
I observe Billy using the palm of his hand to leasurly and casually wipe away the condensation for a better view while dipping his head. Meanwhile Kevin in the back seat is observing through this large tear that existed in the convertible top.
During all this several cop cars arrive, and now I'm worried that we'll all get busted for the weed. We get told to get out of the car, and I see this one cop open the passenger door and he smells the weed and begins to laugh. It didn't look good. LOL.
So in the end we find out that Gary decided to piss in a location where he was looking on a family having dinner. The man thought he was a peeping Tom. Does it get dumber than that? LOL.
Nobody got arrested that night because the old man would have also been charged with assault. Gary wasn't really hurt either.
Cal
