What's the slowest car you've ever driven? For me it's a toss up between an HT4100 powered 1982 Cadillac Sedan deVille and a 1976 Oldsmobile Cutlass with Oldsmobile's 260-cubic inch V-8 I test drove back in the day. That and an old friends 1.6-liter, 1984 Chevrolet Chevette. Something tells me, though, this 1977 Oldsmobile Cutlass "S", that's in painfully mint-condition but has a Buick 231-cubic inch V-6 still nestled between its front fenders, might be slower than any of those cars.
In more ways than one, power is over rated. However, you do need at least some semblance of it to make life enjoyable and to make driving at least somewhat less than a chore. No such case here with a car weighing the dark side of two-tons and saddled with an engine making 105-horsepower and 185-foot pounds of torque. Throw in a soggy 2.4:1 rear axle, perhaps even a 2.29:1, and zero-to-sixty might come around in about seventeen-to-eighteen seconds. However, in a car this big, that'll feel much longer. And it's not just "off-the-line" that this car is slow. Merging with freeway traffic and changing lanes will need to be judiciously planned too. Did the "S" in Cutlass S denote "slow?"
How and why did General Motors sell a car so grossly underpowered? Blame the 1973 OPEC embargo that doubled the price of a gallon of gas. What was worse, gas prices stayed high after the embargo hammering sales of large, thirsty cars. The Big Three were left scrambling to make their gas guzzlers better on gas and on paper, at least, putting six-cylinder engines in big heavy cars like this made sense. In reality, the "little" engines were over-worked negating most fuel economy gains. Especially around town.
Through my foggy windshield, the Buick V-6 puts a serious damper on this very cherry Cutlass. It's for sale down near Akron with a $19,995 asking price. Seems a heady price to pay for a car that's going to be quite the handful to drive. Especially with today's over powered monsters zippy around you. Fossil fuel or electrically powered. Perhaps at half the cost I could do the mental gymnastics to perhaps make a crate engine swap make sense. To do that right could run you five, seven or even ten-thousand dollars.
This car, that has only twenty-four-thousand miles on its forty-five year old ticker, worth thirty grand? Perhaps to someone but most certainly not to me. Twenty-thousand dollars but with a perfect "LS swap" already performed? Umm, let me sleep on that one.
Depending on the car wonk you talk to, "Malaise Era" cars are those domestic automobiles mass-produced between either the change in engine design to enable them to run efficiently and without damage on no-lead fuels starting in 1971, the switch to SAE horsepower and torque ratings rather than gross ratings starting in 1972, the advent of federally mandated, "five-mile per hour safety bumpers" starting in 1973, or the introduction of catalytic converters in 1975. The end of the era is fuzzier to define but most somewhat enlightened automotive cognoscenti concur the end of the era began with the 1982 introduction of high performance V-8 engines in the Ford Mustang GT, Chevrolet Camaro Z28 and Pontiac Firebird Trans Am; the first proprietary, high-performance V-8 engines offered in approximately a decade. The term is erroneously derived from President Jimmy Carter's infamous "Crisis of Confidence" speech from July 15, 1979. President Carter never said "malaise" in the speech, but nonetheless, the speech has become known as "The Malaise Speech".
Another day and another interesting Facebook Marketplace find. This time a car some construe, and I concur, to be the "Malaise-iest of Malaise Era cars", a U.S.-spec, Ford Granada. This one a 1977 and even in coupe guise, to me at least, has all the charm of a dishwasher, refrigerator, a Ford Pinto or a Mustang II. This popped up the other day with a $2,500 asking price down in Sydney, Ohio, a far northwest burb of Columbus.
Ford introduced what us car wonks refer to as the "U.S. Granada" for model year 1975; there was a European Granada produced by Ford's European subsidiary that was an entirely different and from contemporary accounts a far superior automobile. Originally intended to replace the 1969-circa Maverick, product planners at Ford correctly deduced that American's taste in cars was moving towards smaller or less large makes and models. Thus, they moved Granada "upmarket" and made it more luxury compact than economy car replacement. Ford sold the Maverick alongside the Granada through 1977.
Ford launched these in the fall of 1974 with a heavy-duty marketing blitz that included a healthy dose of television advertising. Ten-year-old me sized them up at the Ford dealership in walking distance from where I grew up on Long Island and while I can't say I liked their styling, there's really not a lot of "style" to them, I appreciated their size. I thought I could actually drive them. Despite being car-centric, back then I found the notion of driving the leviathans of the day terrifying. More reasonably sized offerings like this assuaged my anxieties. Well, at least somewhat.
There's no mistaking a two-door Granada for exactly what it is, a Granada four-door with two less doors. The design of Maverick two-door models, especially those made before the safety-bumper mandate, positively inspired in comparison. Maverick coupes rode on a smaller wheelbase than their four-door brethren, were quite smaller overall as well and with their somewhat racy fastback-ish styling, one could make the argument they were two distinctly different automobiles. Two- and four-door Granada's were dimension-ally identical and there was no fastback coupe either. But we can dream. There was no station wagon Granada either until the one year only wagon of 1982.
While the Granada's exterior styling was nothing to write home about, Ford dressed up the interior with the requisite luxury touches of the day making the car at least appear "premium"; they surely spared no expense on "plastic" wood. At least the front seats won high praise. As they should seeing they were lifted directly from the Euro-spec Granada. Why they stopped there and didn't just import the whole car is a mystery us mere mortals will never get the answer to. The only thing the two Granada's had in common was their name.
Ford suits probably reckoned that American buyers would chafe at the Euro-Granada's avant-garde styling. That and the Euro-version was built to a much higher price point. Squinting my eyes enough to see this car through my kid goggles, Ford may have been right. Can you imagine this in a Ford showroom in 1975 next to an LTD? Would have been nice, though, for the U.S.-grade Granada to have received some of this car's tastier technological baubles and bits like a V-6 and an independent rear suspension.
Under-the-hood of our blue Grenadier is Ford's tried and true but deadly dull 250-cubic inch, 96-horsepower, inline six. Could be worse, could be the 200-cid, 72-horsepower six. Yeah, 72-horsepower. And that's SAE net. Ford's venerable 302-cubic inch V-8, which was no powerhouse making all of 129-hp, most likely would drive the asking price of this north by at least a grand.
For 1977, buyers could also opt for a 351-cubic inch V-8 packing all of 149 horses although it made a respectable, torque is king, 291 foot-pounds. The twist going into a 3.00:1 rear axle, which was pretty aggressive for a malaise-special. Although, hard to imagine many buyers shopping for a Granada would really care about what was under the hood. Or final drive ratio. Road and Track tested a 1975 Granada with the 302 and clocked it from zero-to-sixty in twelve seconds. That's on the "quick" side of malaise era cars. 11-miles per gallon too. Hashtag, malaise.
Over boosted, slow, recirculating ball steering and a suspension setup that had DNA going back to the 1960 Ford Falcon, just like my #$%@ '74 Comet, certainly did the ride and handling of these cars no favors. Combine the primitive driving dynamics, uninspired styling along with the phlegmy engines of the day and it's hard to argue with anyone who considers these to be the epitome of the "Malaise Era". Again, I don't.
Ford built a "Granada" through model year 1982 updating it significantly in 1981 switching it to the more modern Fox-body platform. The model-line was restyled for 1983 along with a name change, Granada became "Ford LTD" and wasn't to be confused with the full-size, "Panther-platform", Ford LTD Crown Victoria. That's clear as mud marketing as far as I'm concerned. Ford built the LTD through 1986 selling it side-by-side the model that would replace it, the game-changing Ford Taurus.
These cars have their fans as I've gone back to Facebook Marketplace to find this and I can't. The ones that are there are chopped up and modified up the catalytic converter. You'd stand a better chance at finding an original and un-restored 1977 Chevy Nova than you would another all-original, six-cylinder Granada. Something tells me someone saw the value in this car as a platform to make it the screaming Malaise sleeper of their dreams. Or nightmares.
What is it they say, if it looks like a duck, swims like a duck and quacks like a duck...it's a duck, right? Then what was Chevrolet's El Camino? Was it a car? A truck? A station wagon? All of the above, actually. Although, in most states, these are classified as "trucks". Perhaps that's why I find them so vexing.
This relic is from model year 1959 which was the first year for Chevrolet's car-based truck. Ford came out with their two-door, Ranch Wagon based Ranchero in 1957 and was a surprise hit. So much so that it forced GM to play catch up. Quickly. Based on the station wagon version of General Motor's "B-body" chassis, the roof was reinforced and the cab and bed were braced together with welded beans for more structural rigidity.
Like all Chevrolet cars for 1959, these used GM's infamous "X-frame". The X-frame, so-named because the frame came together in the middle to form an "X", enabled designers to draw up sumptuously long and low designs. The downside was it had a degree of flex unlike anything GM had ever had up to that point.
That wasn't a good thing, by the way. The bed itself was a double-walled design, and a thick steel floor helped to shore things up further still. However, due to the frame's design, there was only so much could be done. With stiffened rear leaf-springs, these had a 1,200 pound payload and it's six-and-a-half foot bed could carry thirty-four square feet of stuff. Slightly less than a run-of-the-mill Chevy Stepside pickup of the day. And a whole lot easier to handle too thanks to a soft, cushy ride and way over boosted recirculating ball power steering.
The styling, subjectively, particularly on these '59's, is simply transcendental. So much so that this dyed-in-the-wool New Yorker can see past its hokey, mid-western pickup truck-ness and see it as a work of art as opposed to some kitschy colloquialism. I'm inclined to buy this hunk of junk and use it as yard art. Hopefully my H.O.A. wouldn't have a problem with that.
Mind you, not at nearly four-thousand dollars which is about what the poster of the Facebook Marketplace ad is asking for this thing. Although, you find a '59 El Camino in "Concours" condition and you'd be looking at something worth more than $50,000. You're pushing six-figures for museum quality El Camino's in original and unrestored condition.
I'm so freaked out by the price of used cars these days that when I come across something interesting although I know is completely impractical if not absurd, yet is priced fairly reasonably, I'm kind of like, "yeah, I could make that work." Take this 1982 Pontiac Firebird Trans Am for instance. For sale about an hour or so from my home up here in Cleveland, Ohio with just 60,000 miles or so on its forty-year-old ticker, it has an asking price of "just" $7,995. No steal by any means but in a world where a ten-year old Honda Civic with this mileage would command twice as much money, perhaps even more, this, on paper at least, could work. Right? Ahem, riiiight.
Along with its similar corporate cousin, the Chevrolet Camaro, the Pontiac Firebird was all new for 1982. Seven inches shorter overall than the very long in the tooth models they replaced, riding on a wheelbase almost seven inches shorter and weighing some five-hundred pounds less, critics lauded their handling prowess and good looks. Some scribes going so far to call them the best handling cars in America at the time which, when you think about it, wasn't saying that much.
So, just how wrong would one of these be for me to knock the snot out of as a "daily"? Especially considering the used car lot is so desperate to get rid of this before winter that they'd knock another grand off the asking price for me? Well, my all-to-brief test drive answered just about every question I could have about it.
As cameras tend to do, this looks much better in pictures than it does in person. It's got a fair number of chips and nicks, there's a "good" dent behind the passenger door that looks like someone tried to unsuccessfully pull out, the rear shocks are toast, the hood doesn't close all the way flush, and the driver's seat has some considerable wear to it. The good is the seating and pedal position are vastly superior to the odd layout in the fourth-generation Camaro's I've had, the engine started right up, sounded great, and acceleration, while hardly "sporty", was adequate.
The bad was that while the seating position was good, the seats themselves, while appearing to be quite handsome, were dreadful. Flimsy. Cheap. Unsupportive. The wear on the driver's seat is all but hidden by this photo - it's bad enough that it would have to addressed immediately. Perhaps the seats would be ok on short jaunts, but for someone who'd be driving most times a hundred miles or more at a clip, there's no way my backside wouldn't be aching afterwards. And as compliant as the ride was, at least compared to what I remember these cars having, it was still quite flinty; the squishy rear shocks doing the whole car no favors. These cars have an element of crude some find charming and part of their visceral appeal. Fun, perhaps, as a weekend jaunter like my 1977 Corvette is, but as a "daily", I know the lack of refinement would grow old. Fast.
I walked away feeling somewhat crestfallen although I knew it would have been a very long putt if I even really liked it. Even at seven-grand. This is a $3,000 car and even at that price the wife would be just a tad incredulous. There's also the reliability factor; the three fourth-generation Camaro's I've had, were hardly stalwarts when it came to being dependable. They are all but simple to work on though; these some of the last "old school" cars us shade tree hack mechanics can actually wrench on.
Still, if I was looking for a weekend toy, I could do a whole lot worse than this little old bird although the price of admission is more than twice would I would be comfortable with paying. NADA pegs these average retail at $9,800, low around $6,000, high retail $15,800.
Cars like this very worn out 1977 Oldsmobile Cutlass 442 were my dream cars when I was in my late teens and early twenties. This is for sale on Facebook Marketplace for $3,200. Bonus, the original driver's door comes with the sale.
Here's what it would have looked like new. Or restored. Quite the looker, no? Even in this barber poll motif.
Color coordinated interior too although that black seat belt buckle poking up next to the drivers seat makes me wonder if this interior is original to the car. Not that it matters. A lot can happen to a car in forty-five years.
As is the case with many an old car up here on the cusp of the Great White North, rust is a major concern. Especially with regards to the structure of the car. This is not the rustiest bucket out there and that mouse hole is just advanced surface rust. Poster of the ad claims the "frame is solid". I'll take their word for rather than make a four-hour round trip to see for myself.
Same here on the lower rear, passenger side quarter panel. That this this is sitting on grass makes me believe it's not going to be the driest old car either.
Something tells me this Oldsmobile "Rocket 350" is not running and would explain why this hasn't been moved to pavement. Maybe they don't even have anything paved? At best it should be indoors. Plastic bags in the air cleaner to stop mice from nesting in there tells me this bubba has been sitting out here for while.
This is what the engine room looked like when the car was new although that's an Oldsmobile 403-cubic inch V-8 and not the Olds 350 like our Facebook Marketplace find has. The Oldsmobile 403 was an Oldsmobile 350 with a larger bore. You'd find this engine in a number of Pontiac Trans Am's in the late Seventies too.
For 1977, available engines ran the gamut on 442's from a Buick V-6 through every available Oldsmobile engine at the time. That included the dreadful Olds 260-cubic inch V-8 although with that motor, you could get a five-speed. Yes, a five-speed. FE2 "Rallye Suspension" was optional so the 442 package, at its most rudimentary, was a trim package.
Poster of the ad says the brakes, exhaust and radiator are bad and the car has some some electrical issues. At least they're honest. They don't mince words about the rust either. Sigh.
This another prime example of let's "put it out there" before winter comes? Which, newsflash, it's all but done up here already. Price is knocked down from $3,500. NADA pegs these high retail at around $19,000. average around $13,000, fair approximately $6,000. There's no NADA value for poor or basket case - which this one most certainly appears to be. Might be fun to make into a rat rod but not at anywhere near $3,200.
This 1978 Plymouth Volare popped up on my Facebook Marketplace feed the other day and brought me back. Way, way back to the summer of 1981 between my junior and senior years of high school. I took driver education in dark red Volare just like this green machine and finding this kind of reminded me that I need to blog our Chrysler's infamous "compact".
Asking price for this an eyebrow raising $6,000. It has only 22,000 miles on its forty-four-year-old digital ticker so that and its freakishly good condition no doubt jacking up the asking price up and over the moon. Who knows what the story is behind why a non-descript grocery getter could still be around be in this shape. Most likely Granny's last car got mothballed after she passed and the family has finally decided to get rid of it. Asking price could be worse given this crazy used market. However, at the end of the day, it's just an old car. And a green Plymouth Volare four-door to boot.
I actually enjoyed driving the Volare I learned to drive in. It was much easier to handle than my father's hoary 1972 Cadillac Sedan deVille. Kind of peppy too despite it being loaded down with an instructor and four kids taking turns behind the wheel. I told the instructor that and he was amazed considering my father had a lordly Cadillac.
Then again, my old man's Cadillac had issues. Lots and lots of issues.
The Plymouth Volare replaced the Valiant and Duster in Plymouth's lineup starting in 1976 and they were a disaster. Not so much on the sales front, at least at first, but these cars were plagued with recalls.
There were issues with the brakes, fuel system, suspension and door latches, locks and even the hood latch. Then there were issues with the cooling system, seat belts and exhaust too. All that making this all the more remarkable. At least the venerable "Slant Six" kept on chuffing with little drama - with all of 90-horsepower. There was a 318-cubic inch V-8 available that made 120-horsepower too. Holy smokes. And I thought the six in my Driver's Ed-mobile actually had some poke. I guess I had no idea just how bad we all had it back then.
Full disclosure, I failed my first driver's test, but I don't blame that Volare. I'd say it was too much time having passed between the end of driver ed and my taking my road test. That and taking my road test in my father's loathsome Cadillac. My high school didn't offer the Volare to us for road tests, but I wonder how I would have done had I taken my road test in it. By the way, the listing for that Volare is still up after some eighteen weeks.
Despite the time change, it's getting late earlier and earlier up here on the North Coast and folks are pushing their "projects" out of the garage before "The Darkness" really sets in. Poster of the ad for this 1973 Plymouth Barracuda says his son bought it as a project but was injured in a motorcycle accident and needs to sell it to pay for medical expenses. Asking price is $8,500. Amazingly, I believe it's been sold.
I'm not surprised by the asking price or the fact it's gone. Especially for one of these desperately needing restoration that, allegedly, actually runs. 1970-1974 Plymouth Barracudas and their similar looking corporate cousin Dodge Challengers are among-st the most sought after "classic cars" on the market today and even basket cases like this command good money. Reasons for that are peculiar too since these didn't sell well when new.
Chrysler's timing in rolling these out for 1970 could not have been worse. By 1970 the pony and muscle car era was waning and GM's slinky new Camaro and Firebird for 1970, made these look frumpy and old. What's more they were hammered by the automotive press for being too heavy, too fat, too unyeildy and too thirsty. Even if they were heralded as world beaters, given the manufacturing power of Chrysler compared to GM and even Ford, they wouldn't have sold anywhere near the number of Camaros and Firebirds GM sold. So, why the fervor now?
Why the fervor for any old car? Supply and demand. The classic car market is not exactly mainstream and what's out there are in high demand to a small, niche group of buyers. And these cars, in my humblest of opines, are simply awesome and their design transcends the fact they're, sorry, MOPAR fans, junky Chryslers. And in a classic car world where the world is flat and everything is equal, which things most certainly weren't in the early Seventies, nothing from GM or Ford even comes close. These days we could care less now they were sloppily built and handled like a truck with square wheels when new.
Although 1964-1969 Plymouth Barracudas were nick named "'Cuda" in some marketing materials, "'Cuda" didn't become its own distinct model until 1970. And a "Barracuda 'Cuda" was billed as performance car. For '73 like our Facebook find here, the "Cuda" package got buyers standard power-assisted front disc brakes, a 318-cubic inch, 2-barrel V-8 with a 340-cubic inch 4-barrel optional, bucket seats to go around a floor mounted three-speed manual with an optional 4-speed or torque flight automatic optional, "heavy-duty" anti-sway bars fore and aft and your atypical if somewhat cliched tape job and decals.
The "super-displacement" 440 V-8 and the 426 HEMI, exclusive to 'Cudas in 1970 and 1971, were gone by '72. Just as well as apparently the 340 cars were the way to go. Less power, yes. But less weight and it's not like the 340 cars were slowpokes anyway. Even with primitive smog plumbing tamping down the go-fast.
Amazing, I can't find this again so that tells me it's been sold. That bodes well for the son injured in a motorcycle accident. Perhaps someone saw the value in this and can do the work themselves. Then ithis might be a bargain. I don't know what I'd be comfortable paying for it seeing it's an Ohio car and it's all but rusted out. That's what scares me the most. The metal work.
I wish the seller and his son nothing but the best.
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