I was walking by the garage here in our suburban Tokyo neighborhood where I spotted the 1970 Dodge Charger last summer (it’s still there by the way – you can see it in the background), and came across this beauty. I had a similar ’68 Valiant during my college years and seeing this one sure brought back more than a few memories.
If your driving career started in the decade of the ‘70’s, there’s a good chance you have a Valiant/Dart/Duster/ Demon/Scamp story to share. Here’s mine – around 1974, after having significantly dented my ’64 Ford Fairlane when a light pole jumped out in front of me in a supermarket parking lot, I needed some cheap wheels to get to both college and a part-time job. My best buddy was selling his ’68 Valiant Signet Coupe, B5 Blue with a navy blue roof, Slant Six/Torqueflight, with about 75K miles. I knew it was a tough little car, but really didn’t understand how tough until I became the owner. Even though I had little money for any maintenance, it never failed to start in four years of ownership. Get in, hit the “hummingbird”, wait for the “leaning tower of power” to fire, slip the Torqueflight into D, and off you went. It was indestructible. Two memories stand out;
I remember it was slow, but I didn’t need to get anywhere fast, I just needed to get there. I do recall asking another buddy who worked at a gas station if we could hook it up to the Sun Machine and see if all was well. What we found out was that No. 5 cylinder was dead. We checked the electric connections and it was getting spark, so it must have been an internal engine problem. No worry – it drove fine and I just left it as is.
With winter approaching, I found a place that had two pretty decent used snow tires – $25 for both, mounted and balanced. With two sandbags in the trunk, that car plowed right through four Midwest winters – never got stuck.
Enough reminiscing – this Tokyo-based Valiant is a 1969 model, as identified by the grille. I prefer the ‘67/68 front end – a little more distinctive.
The interior looks like it has been re-done – and the body has obviously been refurbished with most of the emblems and tags removed. The big question – what’s under the hood? Unfortunately the owner wasn’t around, but based on the stance and tires, I’d say it’s probably something larger than a 225 cu in Slant Six.
I’ve had lots of cars over the intervening 40-some years; quite a few I wish I still had – but I have a soft spot and a lot of respect for that Valiant – and at times it’s the one I’d like to look out and see in the driveway again.
In the mid 70s I bought a 69 Valiant Signet 2 door as a daily driver. Mine had the slant 6 and automatic transmission combo, and unlike this car it had bucket (like) seats. I’ve never driven one of these Valiants with a V8, but my boss in Iceland had a (Belgian-built) 74 Valiant sedan that had a V8…..and that car sure seemed fast.
I don’t know if I would buy another one, though. I haven’t driven a contemporary Falcon or Nova, but I have to believe they both have better steering feel, the Valiant’s weakest point.
Great piece, Jim, and that’s a beautiful example. Your story made me respect these Valiants even more. It’s a shame all that equity got tossed with the introduction of the Volaré / Aspen twins. Our Valiant-based ’71 Duster (also yellow) was a solid car. Much like you mused, I would love to find another one just like the car my parents drove.
I won’t say you can’t get stuck in one, but you do have to work at it.
This is arriving home from a 20 mile commute.
That’s how I remember them as daily drivers, well into the ’90s even in road-salty areas.
I spent several years as a kid growing up in rural Southeastern Ontario. The winters were harsh, with hot summers, and our local mail carrier drove the same Valiant over a 5 year period, Monday through Saturday. Occasionally driving a backup Dart.
“If your driving career started in the decade of the ‘70’s…..”
Indeed…. our neighborhood driving school had several of these, as well as their Dart successors… the one I got to drive was a ‘72 Dart with the venerable slant six. My buddy’s mom had one, also a ‘72 Dart. Both cars were in that ubiquitous olive/avocado green that was all the rage back then. They were tough little cars that even teenage boys couldn’t kill.
The driver’s ed car was dual controlled. I felt like I was learning to drive in a Cessna 172 for the street. When it was time for parallel parking lessons, I was a natural with that car. The instructor asked, how are you so good at this already? My parents at the time had a ‘73 LTD, and my Dad was already teaching me this. I just laughed and said, “Are you kidding? This car is a breeze compared to my family’s LTD.”
A few years later, we went to Minnesota to see some relatives and rented a Dodge Aspen in the subject car’s yellow/cream color. Another venerable slant six under the hood. My Dad let us kids go out driving around the dirt roads near Frazee, MN, and again, you just couldn’t kill that car. That “leaning tower of power” was a blast on those old dirt roads.
My cousins had a ’69 or so, poo-brown 170 3-speed stripper into the late ’80’s. I drove it a bit as a teen hoon, and it was fun. Much better handling than the GM same-age car, the 170 smooth and revvy, albeit with rather hopeless gearing. And steering; Danekay mentions it, but apparently the RHD ones were even worse, and by god, it was most approximate. Light though. Quite unkillable.
Well, not quite.
My uncle was a rather pompous goose. Not a listener, shall we say. Our regular family summer hols were on a beachside camping ground, and to get to the southern beach (and gorgeous limestone cliffs with old limestone kilns falling into the sea, like Greek ruins), one COULD drive along a beach-verge dirt road, down onto the beach itself, round a headland, and back onto the paved area at the south, with the proviso that the tide was out. Uncle P was impatient with such trivia as tide times, and we left early. The Val was laden with yabbering sunscreen-sticky kids in bathers and towels, the day promising lots of heat and fun. Windows down, off we bumped, down onto the sand, to the headland. Where, natch, the tide had not retreated far enough. I just expected reverse, and a 20 min wait.
Well, he waited alright – waited until a wave sucked back leaving a very temporary Moses and The Israelites path, and tried to beat the returning wave by accelerating around the headland. On wet sand. In a loaded, worn 170-powered Val. You will be unsurprised to learn that Uncle Canute lost, and a decent wall of water went over the car halfway, with a bit of comedy seaweed actually coming inside. By some miracle he didn’t deserve (though which us innocents surely did), the Val kept on plugging after a little stutter and with much screaming emanating from aboard, we got through. (Utterly dry old fella watching when we pulled up says without missing a beat “Yeah, you might want to try a boat, mate.”).
So whilst the Val survived the day, and much other driving by Uncle Blockhead – he really was an atrocious driver, super-harsh on all his poor cars – within a year, the thing had nearly fallen in half from rust, right where that wave had gone. The 170 powered it purring to the tip.
The slanting six was indeed tough, because What’s Under the Hood in this case was seawater, which it swallowed with but a cough or two. Only foolishness killed the car itself.
Oh my, my childhood revisited. One of my mother’s best friends was a maiden piano teacher who bought one of these new. A strippo special order Valiant 100 2 door sedan in (I looked it up) F5 green, which Chrysler misnamed “Limelight”. Emily always said that she thought it was the wrong color when it came in because the color was nowhere near “lime”.
It was not a total strippo, she paid the extra for the 225 over the 170, but otherwise it was plain as could be with a 3 speed and black rubber floors. I used to sit in that car and practice my shift and clutch technique as she sat inside visiting with my mother. She eventually married and she and her husband kept the little Valiant as their primary transport to save his much nicer car from the elements. The poor thing rusted awfully, with fist-sized holes almost everywhere. Eventually (some time in the early 80s) a torsion bar anchor let go and they junked it, still running like a swiss watch.
I have always liked that 1969-only grille.
We had a 68 Signet 4 door, beige with red interior, 273 V8, Torqueflite, bought off the dealer’s lot. For the next one, we ordered it — base 4 door, vinyl high back seats, the trim package that got you carpeting and a cigarette lighter, A/C, 318 V8 and Torqueflite. It looked like a taxicab outside (the yellow as called Honeydew) and the interior was dark green. That was one peppy car and served us well for 16 years. I sold it to a friend who gave it to his sister and she drove it for a few more years. That’s one I’d sure like to have back!
Block out the greenhouse, trunk lid, and rear tail light area of that ’69, and you could be looking at a Duster. Never noticed the evolution (not clean sheet) of the Duster design until now.
’67’s a close runner-up, but I really think the ’69 face is the nicest of all the North American ’67-’76 Valiants.
My first car was my grandmother’s ’69 Valiant 200 4-door. It was red with a black interior (like the movie The Duel) and had literally no options (not even a radio). It had the ‘leaning tower of power’ 225, which was very rugged. Similar to Jim’s story, a mechanic noticed that one of the spark plug wires wasn’t connected – I hadn’t noticed – immediately got a bit more power back.
Unfortunately it couldn’t keep up withe the road salt of the Toronto area and bio-degraded away. Great first car for a teenager – you can’t hurt yourself too badly in a 225 slant six Valiant!
Went with my dad and uncle to pick up dads ordered blue 1967 valiant signet 4 door black interior . this was what infected me with the car bug I can still remember the new car smell , the transistor radio that didn’t have to “have the tubes warmup ” before it worked .I was ten and I can still remember that we now had electric wipers as our ’59 ford had vacuum wipers .my favorite feature was the amber signal light repeater’s mounted on the front fender tops
I love a good Valiant. My driving career started in the 80s and there were still Darts and Valiants everywhere; my first Mopar was a 340/4 speed ’71 Demon, which was still a fast car by the time I got it in 1991 but it was in need of too much resto work for my high school senior budget to keep up with.
I don’t remember it very well but my Dad had a blue ’68 Valiant 100 coupe when I was born in 1973 that he bought new and we kept it until I was about 3 or 4 when we gave it to a family friend that needed a car. Then my Dad picked up a used ’71 Satellite sedan that we kept well into the 80s but he loved that Valiant. Several years ago I built a Valiant with a strong small block and by the time it was done, even with better brakes and a built suspension, it was almost scary fast.
My stepsister, two brothers, and myself all started driving in Wisconsin during the late 1970’s – early 1980’s. We had two Darts and two Valiants.
I started the A-body Mopar trend with a blue 1968 Dart 2dr hdtp with a 273, a sensible car after my ‘68 Tornado and it’s thristy 455. My Dart was a California car that looked great expect for a dropping headliner. It turns out that it actually had over 200,000 miles and was about to blow a rod. My parents house was on a busy street and someone bought it before I placed it for sale – less than three months after my purchase. I was truthful about the engine’s condition to its new owner.
My older brother had a beautiful red & black 1969 Dart 340 Swinger, which he had many years.
My stepsister and younger brother had Valiants Scamps, I think a 1972 & 1974 both green. Not sure what was under the hood of the two. My brother’s Plymouth was rusting out in the trunk.
Great find! As plain and unassuming as this car is, especially in that color beige its easy to understand why many of these end up as hotrods. Its a strong platform, and the right paint, wheels and other tasteful mods make these cars just pop. Theyre simple, dead reliable transportation with infinite potential. Whats not to love?
The pictured car isn’t any beige. It appears to be Y2 “Sunfire Yellow”, PPG 81574 (which, conveniently to my point, has a beige chip next to it).
I have a 1967 Plymouth Valiant bought it when I was 16 had a 440 and a 4-speed now it is tubbed show paint runs mid tens on pump gas with a 440 drove that car in high school still have it I’m 57 years old awesome car also have to 1962 Plymouth Belvedere ones to Fury I’ve had the fury the two door since I was about 18 or 19 and that’s an awesome fun car to
The only time my 1968 Valiant Signet sedan with Slant Six didn’t start was after I had changed the spark plugs, points, distributor cap and wires and didn’t notice that I had put the cap on cockeyed. The plastic distributor gear stripped. Fortunately I lived within easy walking distance of an auto parts store and there was still plenty of time after finishing putting the distributor back, and power-timing the spark, to go out for a test drive in air-conditioned splendor and have something cool to drink.
I wonder how the Slant-Six A-body garnered such an enviable reputation against its contemporary peers: the Ford Falcon, Chevy Nova, and AMC Rambler. Surely, the others weren’t ‘that’ bad in comparison. With the Mopar, the comments of owners generally fall into the category of “great car until the body rusted away”. Were the six-cylinder drivetrains of the competitors really that inferior and, if so, why? From what I’ve read, the cant of the slant-six had absolutely no engineering purpose but was done simply to offer a lower hood line.
IOW, if the slant-six had no ‘slant’, would it still have been as good?
Good question, ask the boys downunder.
Mr Cavanaugh’s reply below works, I reckon. In Aus, the equivalent Holdens were woeful handlers, the much-developed Falcon (developed from the US version) quite acceptable, but neither had a six nearly as good. Even without salt, all rusted about the same, meaning a lot.
That “Hemi” six was a properly great engine; GM, still using a Nova-style 1963 six, should have bought it when Chrysler left here in ’81. Every unkillable quality of the slant, but better, with about 200bhp from the 265 ci version – real, judging from power-to-weight performance – and over 300bhp from the hot versions. Those E49 Chargers would rev to over 6,000, and really do sound like an exotic, so Stirling Moss isn’t entirely misplaced in the ad. (Except that the 1971 purely Aussie Val was a huge ill-handling barge, but that’s another tale from a bit later).
I’ll take a stab at it. The Chevy II had a good engine and transmission in the Chevy 6 and Powerglide, but the platform was just not as nice. GM was great at big cars, good at mid-sizers and not always the best with the smaller stuff. A Torqueflite made for a better performer than a PG. The Falcon’s 200 cid 6 was never nearly as strong. The Slantie’s mechanical lifters avoided oil burning opportunities presented in aging Ford and Chevy sixes with their hydraulic lifters and the Chrysler engines engineered during that era always seemed more durable than any comparable engine made by GM or Ford.
As for the cars themselves the Nova was overly heavy and the Falcon had a front suspension with a lot of design compromises. The Mopars had great engines, great suspensions, solid components and were saddled with rust resistance (and occasional build quality) as their only major vices. Like the 55-57 Chevy they outlasted their competition which had been decent new cars but which did not age as well as the Chrysler A body cars.
Valiants were good cars.
My first car was an aqua one and my second car was a white one. Both of my brothers had them as well.
Something very odd happened when Chrysler engineered these cars during the late 1960s. I don’t see where the corporation saw a future with them. While Valiants/Darts were bullet-proof, Chrysler didn’t seem to really favor them with trendy updates. By the 1970s, these cars were ready to be replaced – but Chrysler wasted so much money on larger cars that didn’t sell, they couldn’t give the Valiant/Dart an update in keeping with their importance to Plymouth and Dodge dealers. Until their replacements showed up in 1976, the Valiant/Dart survived on gimmicks like Feather Dusters, Trivertibles, Broughams, and spring special editions. Even the Duster was just another gimmick, not a really new car at all.
So Valiant/Duster fans were looking forward to getting the new Valiant/Darts launched in 1976 as the 1977 Volare/Aspen. Our Chrysler loyalty to was shattered by horrible cars that had the quality of a British Austin. We held our breaths for nothing but rebranded Mitsubishi cars, dottering wrecks festooned as Volare Road Runners, and a bankrupted Chrysler.
They had me with the Valiant. They lost me when Ford did the job right when they created the Fox body cars. I haven’t had a Chrysler product since.
This is one of the very few cars that engenders almost NO negative comments. It did what it was designed to do and showed a personality doing it. Thus, true love!
A really good summary, that.
Among the series of weird A-body cars I owned was a 318 4-speed 1969 Signet coupe. When I saw the classified ad for it I assumed that it probably had one of those clunky Aspen/Volare overdrive boxes, but I was curious enough to go and look at it anyway. On opening the driver’s door, the original paint on the bare metal floor and the Hurst shifter made it obvious that this was a factory 4-speed car. It was a bit ratty and the 318 had a burnt valve, but the car drove well enough, so I bought it. It took several years to get it into decent shape, but it ended up looking quite nice in its red on red color combination. The only problem was that it had a gold driver’s seat, and I was never able to find one in the correct red. Of course I considered recovering the existing seat, but the plastic covers on the hinges under the seatbacks were color coded and would’ve had to be repainted too.
Once the heads had been gone through, the car was a good performer that could hold its own against several other small-block A-bodies I had impromptu drag races with. I ended up selling it via Hemmings to a chiropractor in Wisconsin and driving it to him. I’ll bet he still has it.