Lake Erie In Winter

 

Lake Erie's lack of depth and relative lack of size is the reason why it freezes regularly in winter time. Despite being the smallest and shallowest of the Great Lakes, Lake Erie is still one of the largest bodies of water on earth. 

 

 

The Great Lakes, while indeed great, with their heavy surf, are more like inland seas like the Black Sea, Dead Sea or Caspian Sea. The Great Lakes form the largest group of freshwater lakes on Earth, containing 21% of the world's surface fresh water. Incidentally, that's not a snow covered sand dune; it's a snow covered frozen wave.

 

 

Ninety-five percent of Lake Erie's total inflow of water comes from the Detroit River to the west, water from all the "upper lakes" including Superior, Ontario and Huron, the St. Clair River, Lake St. Clair and numerous tributaries. The rest comes from precipitation.

 

 

Despite freezing easily in winter, Lake Erie is the warmest and most biologically productive of the Great Lakes. The Lake Erie walleye fishery is widely considered the best in the world. 

 

 

Lake Erie is bounded by Ontario to the north, Ohio, Pennsylvania and New York to the south, Michigan to the west. The Lake is 241 miles long and 57 miles width at its largest points.

 

 

Water from Lake Erie drains into the Niagara River which, in turn, flows over Niagara Falls. On average, it takes approximately three years for all of the water in Lake Erie to flow in and out of it.

 

The Lake is named after the Erie tribe who lived along its southern shore. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The 1970 Dodge Challenger Is Gone

 

 

Been a while since I've been to the visual tsunami that is the automobile boneyard near my home. 

 

 

The cast of characters has been dwindling steadily over the three years I've been periodically traipsing through the lot. It gets less interesting each time I go.

 

 

Several stalwarts remain, though. Like the odd bevy of Chargers. This '66 appears to have been in some sort of restoration process when it met its unfortunate demise. Like a person who dies of a heart attack on the way home from a plastic surgeon.

 

 

The other two Chargers, roughly 50 feet west of that lone wolf,  sleep peacefully under a blanket of Lake Erie fed snow. 

 

 

Happily, the Cadillac's remain.

 

 

The magnificent '67 Coupe de Ville convertible holding center court.



 

 

You handsome devil. In spite of the brutal winter you're still as charming as ever.  

 

 

The '66 Fleetwood Brougham still doing its best to one up the '66 Continental that sits to its left. Some things never change.

 

 

The snow on this 1977 Thunderbird highlights what this winter has been like up here. Extremely cold, almost too cold to snow but when it does, the snow never melts.   

 

 

Sadly, the crown jewel of the lot, the 1970 Dodge Challenger is gone. 

 

 

 

1992 Oldsmobile Toronado - Real Men Don't Like Skinny Women

 

The Oldsmobile Toronado's brutal mid life crisis made the 1992 model the best it would ever be. About time, too for 1992 was the Toronado's last year. GM's nasty habit of killing cars once they get them right rearing its ugly head once again.
 

From the looks of things, you could argue that someone inside GM was trying to kill the Buick Riviera, Cadillac Eldorado and Oldsmobile Toronado with their horrible mid 1980's updates. Had to have seemed like a good idea at the time to introduce "luxury" cars no bigger than economy cars. Proof was in their lack of sales performance. Those designs crushed sales by as much 60%.

 

When GM added some much needed girth to Toronado in 1990, what had been a strange, anorexic little lump, blossomed into a beautiful automobile. Even, in "arrest me" red she's quite the looker. Amazing what a little weight will do for some people. Ladies, take note. Real men don't like skinny women. 

 

Sales, which had cratered with the 1986 model, remained slow, though. As good as Toronado had become, a combination of a shifting market away from coupes, a shifting market away from Oldsmobiles in general and a booming SUV market ultimately killed Toronado. The last one rolled off the assembly on May 28, 1992. 

 

 

Oldsmobile, subsequently, got killed in 2004.  

 

1970 Buick Electra 225 Convertible - Life Is Too Short for Sedans

 

Ever since my family bought a 1970 Electra sedan back in 1977, I've been searching, casually, for a coupe. A coupe, of course because life is too short for sedans. I could care less about a convertible but it seems this is all that's left these days. The coupes getting roasted in demolition derbies or succumbing to neglect. If you're interested, get ready to pay through the nose for a solid copy like this which has obviously spent its life in a warm, road salt free climate. I found this very nice, albeit somewhat drab, drop top in Southern Utah. Owner's asking $25,000. Geez, Louise. He's got serious money in it too and between us, he'll be lucky to get a third of what he's asking. The crushing reality of owning an old car that no one cares about.  

 

 

In many ways, 1970 wasn't so much the beginning of the 1970's as it was the end of the 1960's. At least as far as General Motors was concerned. 1970 the last year for what may have been GM's finest, full size automobile; the 1965 C body. Additionally, with engines having to run on low lead gas beginning in 1971, thus the drop in compression, it was the last year that engines had real power. It was also the last year that Buick offered a convertible on their range topping Electra.  



 

Cars like the 1970 Buick Electra hearkened back to not so much a simpler time, seriously, was there ever a time that really was "simpler"?, but a time when pure grandeur was in vogue and stylists ran the asylum. If Clark Gable was alive in 1970, he'd buy a 1970 Buick Electra 225 convertible. In red.



 

The Electra nameplate first appeared in 1959 replacing "Roadmaster" as Buick's top of the line model. "225", at least at first, referred to the overall length of the automobile. The lengths of the 225 fluctuated somewhat over the years. 1970 "225's" were actually 225 inches long.

 

 

"Ergonomics", which refers to the user friendliness of interior cockpit design and layout was more than a decade off when Buick introduced this ergonomic free interior in 1968. The horn pad for these cars was on the inside of the steering wheel rim; sharp turns resulting in unintended "blaps". Best to have a passenger load up the Perry Como on that dealer installed eight track player too. That slot above the eight track is for the ashtray. It's big enough for you to squash out an entire carton.



 

Under the hood our big, beautiful subject is powered by Buick's venerable 455 cubic inch V-8. Note, that this is a Buick engine and is not to be confused with other 455 cubic inch power plants produced by Pontiac and Oldsmobile. Before the mid 1970's, all of GM's divisions made their own engines. With some rare exceptions, you would never find a Chevrolet engine in a Pontiac, or an Oldsmobile in a Buick. Buick built this engine through 1976.

 

Despite the, what is this anyway, grey? paint and black vinyl interior, this is a fantastic looking, albeit overpriced car. The owner pricing it over the moon hoping, perhaps, that he'll find someone with more money to burn than they know what to do with and they'll cut him a check after some mild negotiations. The owner kicking away low ballers, like me, who offer what the car is most likely worth, around $8,000, as opposed to giving him what he thinks it's worth. Good luck! If it was red or at least even brown I'd offer him $10,000.  

 

While technically baby boomers, us "tweeners" are too young to have either benefited from the changes sweeping the country in the 1960's and too old to sit back and ridicule the changes, as kids will do, that baby boomers claim to have achieved. I looked at cars the same way too. I loved the recent oldies, like this Electra, while loathing the shrunken, emasculated, fuel economy and ego friendly conscious models that were then new on showroom floors. Yesterday seemed much more interesting and the future made me nervous. Enter the neurotic New Yorker; when I was a kid, I never lived in the "now". No surprise I've gone completely grey before my time. In many ways, the older I've gotten the younger I've become.

 

 

1984 Buick Riviera T-Type - The Scorpion and The Frog

 

It was 1987 all over again when the shiny black Buick Riviera caught my eye at a used car lot near my house. I've always been a fan of the "big, little", 1979-1985 vintage GM "E-body", whether it be the Cadillac Eldorado, Oldsmobile Toronado or the Buick Riviera. I had fallen hard and fast for a white on red 1982 Riviera years ago. That car didn't love me back, though. Far from it. In fact, that car did everything it could to make me want to set it on fire. Worst car I ever owned. Complete junk. Before the light turned green, though I saw her lovely slotted rims, my '82 had chrome wheel covers. There was a chance that this black beauty was more than what at first met my eye. I turned into the used car lot's driveway so I could take a closer look. 

 

 

 

Sure enough, it turned out to be a Riviera T-Type, a model of the Riviera that I had all but forgotten about. I had never seen in one person let alone have one in front of me for sale. With an asking price of a mere $4995, I could be riding high again in the lap of luxury. Only better, since this was a T-Type Riviera.  She purred to me through her black out grill, "Take me home. I won't disappoint you like your '82 did. I know you want me. Negotiate hard with the sales manager. You'll be surprised how low he'll go."

 



 

 

I called my wife and got her voicemail. I needed someone to douse me with cold water and a bucket of ice telling me this was a bad idea. To forget about it and go home. The Riviera cooing, "I've got the Buick turbo engine with fuel injection. I also have heavy-duty sway bars, torsion bars and shock absorbers, a quicker steering gear ratio too. I'm everything your '82 Riviera wasn't". I slipped behind the wheel and grabbed her oh-so-cool, three spoke steering and squished the thirty year old leather between my hands. "You know you want me. You look good behind the wheel too, your prematurely grey hair contrasting brilliantly with my black paint. I might be gone before you can even talk to your wife. Surprise her. She knows you work hard. She loves you so much. You deserve me."

 

 

The salesman threw me the keys. The engine started up without me pumping the gas like my '82 had to have me do since that pile of junk had the carbureted, Olds 307. I put her in drive, she lurched forward and off we went. The turbo engine pulled smoothly, sweetly, powerfully as though she had a 455 Stage 1 under her long, wide, beautiful hood. She looked very much like my '82 but she behaved much better. She was stronger, faster, smoother. "You like me, don't you. I know you do." The T-Type read my mind.

 

 

 

I was quite frank with the T-Type. "Y'know, that '82 I had was the worst car I've ever owned. Literally everything on it broke. On my way home from the dealership where I bought it, the power antenna; wouldn't go back down after I shut the car off. That was just the beginning." 

 

 

The T-Type had an answer for everything. "I'm sorry that that '82 hurt you. But you see, I'm an '84. And...I'm a T-Type. Your '82 wasn't a T-Type, now was it? I'm better. Trust me. You won't be disappointed."

 

 

She was right. The dealership was very reasonable in the negotiation process. I got them down to $3,600 almost with me not asking. They said if I paid them cash, they'd go even lower. Perhaps as low as $3,300. How could I say no? I still had my lingering doubts, though. The hole in my wallet from replacing the transmission on my '82 still smoldering. The AC compressor, power steering pump, alternator, rebuilt carburetor, fried power seat motor still burning up my bank account all these years later. Thousands spent trying to keep that rolling crap box '82 running. The T-Type flashed its high beams at me, "I'm not like your '82, I'm a T-Type. I will be good to you.

 

 

Against my better judgment, I negotiated further with the dealership saying that if I could be out the door, all in at $3,500, I'd take it. It was a sunny, late fall day in Cleveland and I could tell they wanted this one off, old hoopty gone. 90 minutes later, she was mine.

 

 

 

On the way home, my biggest concern was how was I going to tell my wife that I had not only dropped $3,500 cash but dropped $3,500 on another old car. Where would we put it? What kind of gas mileage would it get? I know she was going to remind me of how my '82 broke down constantly and was a serious money pit. No worries with the T-Type, though. The AC was blowing cold, the turbo V-6 was pulling strongly and the old school stereo sounded great too.

 



 

I hit a small pot hole and the steering became very taught, the brake pedal hard as a rock. The speedometer starting heading south. The T-Type had stopped running. I struggled to pull the car to the side of the road, flashers blinking as I turned the ignition forward. Nothing. Not even the tell tale General Motors "tick-tick-tick" that would tell me it was just an electrical gremlin. The T-Type  spoke to me through the old school stereo, "What did you expect? I'm a Buick Riviera."

Oldsmobile Toronado - What Killed The Dinosaurs?

 

  

At first, Toronado was to be of similar size to the 1967 Chevrolet Camaro and Pontiac Firebird. If that was the case, the packaging efficiencies of front wheel drive would have made for a remarkably spacious small car. As it was, the "full size", front wheel drive Toronado, with its polarizing styling, was just another big car.

 

With its front wheel drive and styling reminiscent of the Cord 810, the 1966 Oldsmobile Toronado was one "far out" automobile. While a  splendid  engineering exercise, for there certainly was no need for a full size, front wheel drive car in the age of Aquarius, sales of  Toronado were disappointing.  Subsequent design updates through 1970, in an attempt to diminish much of the original car's controversial, avant garde styling did little to increase  sales.  

 

The primary benefit of front wheel drive, where the front wheels "pull" the car as opposed to it being "pushed" by the rear wheels, is superior traction; a result of putting the mass of the engine directly over the drive wheels. The basic front-wheel-drive layout provides sharp turning, and better weight distribution creates "positive handling characteristics" due to its low polar inertia and relatively favorable weight distribution.

 

The 1971 redesign turned the "psychedelic" original into a handsome, "Oldsmobile Eldorado".  Toronado's similarities to the Cadillac Eldorado not surprising given that the Toronado and Eldorado shared much mechanically and structurally. Additionally, with Cadillac resale value being as excellent as it was in the late '60's and early '70's, Oldsmobile's Cadillac was quite fortuitous; sales of the 1971 Toronado were up nearly 15% compared to the 1970 model. Toronado being more than 10% less expensive than the Eldorado didn't hurt either.

 

 

Additionally, with the engine, transmission and drive axles together in front of the cowl, the interior of even the smallest front wheel drive vehicles are surprisingly spacious. Especially compared to similar sized rear wheel drive vehicles.

Climate change killed the dinosaurs, an iceberg killed the Titanic and the gas crisis' of the 1970's killed the (less than) 10 mpg, V-8 powered, American land yacht dinosaur. No sooner did Oldsmobile get the styling right on  Toronado with its 1971 update, the 1973 OPEC Oil Embargo doubled the cost of gas. Seemingly overnight, Americans wanted Vegas and Mustang II's over cars like Toronado. As a result of the embargo, Toronado sales dropped by 50%.  

 

 

While there had been several front wheel drive automobiles over the years prior to the introduction of the Oldsmobile Toronado in 1966, save for the Cord 810 of the mid 1930's, front wheel drive never caught on. The reasons for that are two fold. First, the cost; engineering and building a power train where the engine's torque output drives the front wheels is much more expensive (and complicated_ to manufacture than what is referred to as "The Panhard System", where the torque of the engine is transferred, via a propeller shaft, to a differential in the rear of the automobile. Second, need. Or lack of need, particularly in the United States. With vehicles as large as they once where, prior to the general downsizing of automobiles beginning in the late 1970's, there was little need for the increase in interior space that front wheel drive afforded.

 

Sales ebbed up slowly throughout the '70s from the days of the first energy crisis but Toronado sales  lagged behind the Cadillac Eldorado and were ultimately dissapointing. Through the tasteful downsizing of 1979 and abortive 1986 "mini" Toronado, that ultimately, through subsequent revisions, resulted in the sort of car that Toronado should have been from the start, Oldsmobile kept Toronado alive through the end of 1992.

 

 

Small cars became popular as a result of the 1973 gas crisis, although most were rear wheel drive. It wasn't until 1978 that front wheel drive began becoming the "new normal" with, at first, those smaller automobiles benefiting greatly from the packaging efficiency and interior volume gains of front wheel drive. Throughout the 1980's, front wheel drive became available on mid size and eventually even "full size" automobiles.

 

Oldsmobile did not replace Toronado with another two door specialty car leaving GM with two (Eldorado and Riviera) instead of three models to compete in the very narrow two door, luxury market.  The market for coupes, in general, was nothing like what it had been. The less competition the better too, particularly from makes and models within your own corporate family.  Instead of a coupe, Oldsmobile, which by the early 1990's had problems far and above slow sales of Toronado, attempted to revitalize the entire division with the stylish and polarizing, Aurora.

 

The rest, as they say, literally, is history. 

 

 Toronado is a made up name.

 

 

 

 

 it

 

 

Ford Maverick Grabber - Act As If

Grabber was an apt name for Ford's cut-price V-8 coupe: Maverick was grabbing for the low end of the performance car market with a machine that didn't offer any additional performance. Grabber was just a trim package.
 

The family that lived in the duplex across the street from us always had a "new" car. Or a new to them, new car. While they weren't brand specific, more often than not, it was a Ford that would find its way between their two long since chopped down Maples. 

 

  

The Grabber package included simulated hood scoops with blackout paint, Grabber stripes on the sides, fender decals, grille-mounted road lamps, blackened grille, hubcaps with trim rings on 14-inch wheels and D70-14 tires, twin body-color sport mirrors, a decklid spoiler, bright window frames and drip moldings and a DeLuxe steering wheel. 
 

There was the dark blue, 1966 Mustang, a 1967, wood grain trimmed Country Squire, a green with black vinyl top 1972 Mustang and the apple of my eye, a black stripped, yellow, 1972 Maverick Grabber.

 

 

Grabber production steadily declined after launch: 38,963 units in 1971, 35,347 in '72, 32,350 in '73, 23,502 in '74 and just 8,473 units for '75.

 

I thought that Maverick, which I referred to as, "The Grabbah",  was very cool and if someone told me that it was all show and no go I wouldn't have cared; not that I would've understood what that meant anyway. To 8 year old me, the Grabbah was Steve McQueen.

 

 

 2.1 million Mavericks of all stripes were built from 1970-'77 making the Grabber a pretty rare breed.

 

Their older son, who may have been 16, maybe 17 at the time, drove the Grabbah hard. Every time he'd get behind the wheel of it he would start it up with a huge roar and he would peel out making a huge cloud of dust. The Grabbah sure seemed powerful.

 

 

Early Grabbers were only available with a choice of 170-, 200- or 250-cubic inch, in line sixes. Starting in 1971, Ford added a 302-cu.in. V-8 . 

 

The 1970's were a difficult time for cars in general and performance cars in particular. Even before the gas crisis and the Clean Air Act strangled the fun, insurance companies were charging huge premiums for performance cars. Those premiums stopped muscle car sales cold. That didn't stop manufacturers from selling cars that looked like they were performance cars when they were anything but. Act as if.

 

 For 1972, Grabber added "full-width" seats in a choice of vinyl or cloth, carpeting, and four different colors of tape stripes
 

Ford made sure Grabber didn't check off any "sports car" boxes on insurance applications. When the first Grabber came out in 1970, there wasn't even a V-8 engine option let alone a limited slip differential or Hurst shifter available. "Grabber"  was just a trim package. Even when Ford put a 302 V-8 in the Grabber for 1971, it was no tire melting "Boss 302"; that "F code" 302 provided performance that was marginally better than the 250, in line six. Although from the sound of the Grabbah across the street when ever that kid would tear out in it, you'd think there it had a Boss 429.

 

Two transmissions were available throughout the Grabber's life: a three-speed manual, which was standard on the Grabber and elsewhere in the Maverick range, and the C4, "Cruise-O-Matic" three-speed automatic.
 

I never knew what happened to that yellow Grabber; our families didn't exactly see eye to eye so there was minimal to no communication between us. I do recall, though, seeing that kid hobbling around on crutches for a while with the Grabber no where to be seen.