I spotted this clean Ninety-Eight coupe at a red light back in December. I keep hoping to see it at a show or cruise-in, but so far, no such luck.

Nice colors, but it needs some 15″ wheels, factory wheel covers and narrow-band whitewalls, stat. And for the record, I’d like to go back in time and snap up that green Toronado!

Golf carts are everywhere at the Mecum Spring Classic, shuttling people all over the sprawling Indiana State Fairgrounds. This one certainly wasn’t souped up by the famous Don Yenko Chevrolet, despite the tape stripes to the contrary. Every year you can find any number of Yenko Camaros and Novas at the auction. This year I even spotted a Yenko Corvair Stinger. I think I’ve seen more Yenkos at this auction than Yenko actually produced.

]]> http://www.curbsideclassic.com/blog/cc-outtake/cc-outtake-yenkosc-golf-cart/feed/ 3 http://www.curbsideclassic.com/blog/car-show-classic/auction-classics-unrestored-at-the-mecum-spring-classic/ http://www.curbsideclassic.com/blog/car-show-classic/auction-classics-unrestored-at-the-mecum-spring-classic/#comments Sat, 25 May 2013 15:00:39 +0000 Jim Grey http://www.curbsideclassic.com/?p=72419

Every year in mid-May, the giant Mecum Spring Classic muscle-car auction descends on the Indiana State Fairgrounds here in Indianapolis. It lasts for six days; easily 2,000 cars roll by the auctioneer in that time. The auction gets almost no publicity here. I would never have known about it had I not won tickets on a radio-station contest six years ago. But I’ve never missed it since.

The cars are overwhelmingly carefully restored (with the requisite drivetrain swaps and sometimes outright fakery – GTOs that started life as LeManses and such); some are resto-modded. There are so many Camaros, Mustangs, Hemi Cudas, Super Bees, 442s, GTOs, et al, that pretty quickly you quit even noticing them. “Oh,” you say to yourself, “another damned Boss Mustang. Moving on.” But ten or 15 percent of these cars aren’t muscle cars, such as this 1948 Oldsmobile. That’s where the auction begins to get interesting.

Where this year’s auction really got interesting was that there were a big handful of unrestored cars. I think I saw one or two last year, and none in any of the years before that. This ’48 Olds with Hydra-Matic is among the unrestored classics. It has just 2,148 miles on its clock, so some little old lady must have bought this car and hardly ever drove it, and then her kids and grandkids inherited it and didn’t know what to do with it.

Most of the unrestored cars at this year’s Mecum Spring Classic hadn’t racked up very many miles. I wouldn’t have guessed that this 1958 Impala convertible was all original, but I met the owner as he was wiping the dust off his new purchase and he filled me in on his car.

I looked harder, and the only sign I could see was that the car’s upholstery showed signs of repeated use. Otherwise, this car looks showroom new. Really, that’s a tipoff itself – most of the cars here are in better condition than when they rolled off the factory line.

This ’64 Chrysler 300K might be my favorite unrestored car from the day I spent at the auction this year. The owner cleaned it up well, and from a distance it looks as good as any other car on the floor here.

But get up close and you can see it: the paint is dull, and full of rock dings.

The hood has it worst, of course.

Even the interior looks well lived in. Everything’s there, though.

Ok, this is just a gratuitous shot of Chrysler’s great squarish steering wheel.

From the sublime to the ridiculous, here’s a burned out ’66 Charger. Not only did somebody buy this heap, but somebody else taped a note to the hood offering the buyer $2,800 to take it off his hands.

The charred remains of two service manuals lay in this Charger’s wayback.

I wouldn’t have guessed this ’67 Rambler Rebel was original if the info page in the window hadn’t said so.

Every year at the auction I see cars I’ve heard of, but had ever seen only in photos. This 1970 Chrysler VG Valiant was one of them this year. I spotted its rectangular headlights from across the room and knew exactly what I was looking at.

This Valiant came a long way to be in this auction. It could stand an industrial-strength cleaning. It would be very weird to this Yank to have to operate the radio with my left hand.

Yep, it’s got a Hemi.

This 1971 Dodge Demon is another of the more obviously used examples. It still looks pretty good from a distance.

When you get up close, though, you can really see the wear and tear. This one’s paint has been abraded in many places.

Most of the switchgear is missing inside this Demon.

In contrast, this ’76 Eldorado looks like it was barely ever touched. But that’s not surprising given it’s rolled for only 19,000 miles.

This one’s got “cream puff” written all over it. It’s a fuel-injected Eldo, which is apparently on the rare side.

I take hundreds of photos at each year’s Mecum Spring Classic. Over 2,000 of them are in a set in my Flickr space – if you want to kill the rest of your morning, click here to see them.

As you were growing up, you likely heard the phrase “don’t judge a book by its cover” to the point of tedium.

It’s sound advice that’s applicable to so many things in life.  Cars that have had some life experience are certainly items that should never be judged by the superficiality of their exterior appearance.

Recently, JPCavanaugh ran a terrific piece covering model year 1979 (here) as part of his series on Indianapolis 500 pace cars.  The Mustang you see above is one of roughly 10,000 examples that were made that year.

Oh, how the shrieks of disbelief can be heard all over cyberspace: “Somebody is just making that claim, Jason.  Surely you aren’t falling for it!”  In this case it’s not merely a claim, so let’s jump into what makes a ’79 Mustang a pace car instead of just another run-of-the-mill Mustang.

Let’s start with the outside.

All pace cars were painted in this color combination, which is certainly more tasteful than those of some of its predecessors.  And yes, now you skeptics are saying, “Dude, the car you are showing us is red–can’t you tell the difference?”

Well, Earl Schieb paints cars everyday, so getting hung up on paint color is pointless.  Let’s look at a few elements that are more difficult to change, including the door jamb.

See? The right colors!  If you haven’t already guessed, this particular Mustang, which is owned by CC reader Jake, has been repainted.  Although you can’t tell by these pictures, the paint was applied over the decals in some spots along the car.  (Please note: This was done prior to Jake’s purchasing the car; he is much too smart to do something so silly.) Now let’s continue our exploration.

This particular pace-car replica is powered by a 302 cubic inch, 140-hp V8, one of 23,675,984,248 that Ford would ultimately build.  Buyers of a 1979 pace-car replica could also opt for a 131-horsepower, 2.3-liter turbocharged four-banger.  Of course, neither engine generated enough power to make an overzealous driver’s eyeballs sink into their head; it was 1979, after all.

Buyers of the 302 version could choose either a four-speed manual or a three speed automatic, but the 2.3 turbo was restricted to shifty people due to its unavailability with an automatic.

This particular example has had a wheel change. Like all pace-car replicas, it originally came equipped with TRX wheels and tires, making such a swap quite wise.  The story of Michelin’s TRX tires can be found here.

Let’s look inside:

All the pace car replicas received Recaro seats up front…

and this pattern on both the front and rear seats (just don’t stare at it too long)…

and this nifty logo on the passenger side of the dashboard.

No one here at Curbside Classic is very geeky about cars being numbers-matching, decoding VIN tags or documenting whether a car optioned a certain way is one of however-many.  That just ain’t our thing.  However, this one’s an exception to the rule, so beware:  This part of the essay is where numbers geeks will have very positive physiological reactions; for the rest of us, here’s something to elicit a different positive reaction.

Yes, that is an ID tag, also known as a “data plate” or “VIN tag” (please, don’t say “VIN number”–it’s redundant), might well be the first one ever pictured on Curbside Classic.  Treasure it, as you won’t see them on here with any frequency!

So, what does this tag tell us?  Let’s start at the top.  It says “MUSTANG”, so we are good.  Now, go down a line, to the number starting with “48″.  The “48″ indicates this is a pace car replica, and the last four numbers in the series indicate its birth order.

These cars were built in both Dearborn, Michigan and in San Jose, California.  Interestingly, one source claims that due to the way the cars were denoted, it’s theoretically possible for two pace-car replicas that were built at different plants to have the same VIN. That could certainly make for a lively title-history search.

The Mustang was new-for-’79, and serving as the Indy 500 Pace Car was a terrific way for Ford to showcase it.  Offering more interior space than the outgoing Mustang II (so couldn’t this be called a Mustang III?), the new ’79 Mustang had been designed by a Jack Telnack-led team.  Built on the Fox platform that also underpinned the Ford Fairmont / Mercury Zephyr (as well as a host of other early-’80s models), the new Mustang was on average 200 pounds lighter than the previous Mustang.

Eventually selling over 330,000 units in its first year, the Fox-bodied Mustang was a car that seemed to get better as the 1980s progressed, as GT, SVO, LX 5.0 and Saleen versions were unveiled.  Quite the versatile chassis, indeed.

So there you have it, folks, a genuine 1979 Ford Mustang Pace Car.  As so many of these pace-car replicas are pampered, many kudos to Jake for driving his Mustang around the hills and curves of the Ozark Mountain foothills.

Cars like this 200SX SE-R, in such a relatively unmolested state, have become a rare sight, especially in a parking lot of a rather run-down apartment building on a busy arterial. The Nissan 200SX name had long been applied to the RWD Silvia coupes, but in 1995, the name appeared on the top-line version of the B14 Sentra, and in SE-R trim, sporting Nissan’s legendary SR20-DE engine, making a hefty 140 hp in a lightweight little FWD coupe.

Wikipedia says that only some 14k of these SE-R versions were made, during its three year production run. In the 2300 lb Sentra, it made for an eager bundle of joy, to those in the know. This is the same engine that the rather highly regarded Infiniti G20 sported, but in a package substantially lighter. Well, it turns out there’s a good reason this one is still so intact and unmolested:

It’s got an automatic. Of course! The same reason that the Civic EX coupe I shot in the very same parking lot was so unmolested. Maybe they don’t take tenants who drive Japanese stick-shift pocket-rockets.  Good call.

Both of these cars are regular daily drivers that I’ve seen around town; the somewhat rough and noisy ’71 Centurion convertible has made its presence particularly conspicuous lately. So finding them parked together was a bitter-sweet moment; one can almost imagine someone trading in their gas-sucking 455 Centurion for a Datsun 210 during the second energy crisis, and then regretting it forever after.

One of the more unique chapters in the colorful history of the Indy 500 was written by Clessie Cummins, the irrepressible founder and promoter of his pioneering diesel engine manufacturing company. Getting cheap-gas swilling Americans interested in the diesel engine was a challenge, one Cummins took up in a number of ways, including endurance and cross-country runs in diesel-powered trucks, buses and even a big Packard. But the most ambitious ones were his several assaults on Indy, spanning some twenty nears, no less. It culminated in 1952, when driver Fred Abagashian put this sleek lay-down Kurtis roadster on the pole, with a  record-setting 138.010 mph black-smoke-belching run.

The first attempt was in 1930, when Cummins took advantage of the new “junk” formula that allowed stock-block engines up to 6 liters (366 cubic inches). A 361 inch four cylinder marine engine making some 85 hp was adapted to a modified Duesenberg Model A chassis, resulting in a car that weighed a hefty 3389 lbs, which may be a record for Indy. It qualified at 96.871 mph, slowest in the field.

The strategy was to run the race without a pit stop, which had never been done before. And it worked: the slow but steady Cummins Special worked its way up to a 13th place finish, averaging 86.170 mph, and netting a spectacular 16 mpg in the process. The engine used one quart of oil, and the total fuel and oil bill for the race was $2.40! Just the ticket for a Depression-era run at Indy.

Number 8 was fitted with headlights, windshield, a folding top, and side-mounted trunk, and was shipped to Europe where Cummins drove it 5000 miles, demonstrating its prowess, efficiency and durability on public roads and on race tracks. It must have all helped, as Cummins began to make some inroads into the truck and bus market, after being limited to mostly marine engines.

In 1934, there was a massive internal debate at Cummins as to whether the future of the diesel engine was two-stroke or four-stroke (Cummins engines so far were all four stroke). So to test the competing designs, Cummins built one of each for the 1934 race.

The four-stroke racer dropped out due to a broken transmission. But “Stubby” Stubblefield pushed the two-stroke hard, despite violent vibrations and a burned foot from a red-hot transmission. Number 5 managed a 12th place finish, the highest ever for a diesel.

But as the all-aluminum two-stroke cooled off after the race, it contracted and froze up solidly, and Cummins had it removed and tossed off a bridge into the White River at night. Cummins never built another two-stroke again. And I wonder if someone will try to find that engine and salvage it? Or just scrap it.

In 1950, in order to promote Cummins’ new six-cylinder four-valve truck engine, a new roadster was commissioned from Frank Kurtis, with a lengthened wheelbase to accommodate the big oil-burner. A magnesium block and aluminum head lightened the Rootes supercharged 401 cubic incher, but it was still top-heavy. And after fifty laps, its vibration damper came loose, forcing an early retirement.

The final assault came with this sleek new roadster, which was the first to have a “lay down” engine, with the block five degrees from horizontal, and the drive shaft offset to pass alongside the driver. This was a radical new configuration, first conceived of as a solution to the tall diesel engine, but one which was quickly picked up and soon became ubiquitous due its lower center of gravity and superior aerodynamics.

The 380 hp NHH six also pioneered turbocharging at the brickyard, then referred to as a “turbo-supercharger”. It quickly became apparent that this low-slung diesel rocket had enormous potential. Sure enough, on Pole Day, Saturday May 17, the Cummins turned into an orange streak as it set new all-time lap records and qualified for the pole position, with a four lap average of 137.002 mph. Thanks to its chunky 3100 lbs, the two left tires were in tatters.

The Cummins ran well, as high as fifth place, but couldn’t really keep up with the much lighter cars in the lead. Then on the 70th lap, the diesel began spewing a huge cloud of black smoke, and Abagashian headed for the pits. It was all over, thanks to the turbocharger inlet having digested too much road debris, due to its unprotected location down low. This is why new cars rarely win: the trials and errors have to be learned the hard way.

After the race, Number 28 was placed on display in the Cummins headquarters lobby, and sent to car shows. There was no thought of going back in 1953, one of the reasons being that the Indy run had done its job: sales of Cummins engines surged, and marked the beginning of the end of gas-powered heavy trucks.

In 1969, for Cummin’s 50th anniversary, the engine was finally torn down to prepare the car for a big bash at the speedway and other events. It turns out that there was a large crack in the crankshaft, which would undoubtedly have failed within a few more laps. All witnesses were sworn to secrecy.

The lay-down engine as used in Number 28 led directly to Cummins famous “pancake” diesel engines, which were horizontal inline sixes used extensively in buses, under the floor in the middle of the vehicle. Crown and Gillig school buses used these for decades, as well as others. Race on Memorial Day; haul kids to school on Tuesday.