Now that I had my very own personal transportation device, it was time to make it a little more…personal.
I had always liked the look of the Camaro RS/SS packages with their blacked out rocker panels and rear trunk panel. Some masking tape, $3.00 of Satin Black spray paint and 2 hours later I had a sharper, semi-SS looking Camaro.
But what was that blue smoke that occasionally followed the car?
Although the Chevy six is only somewhat less legendary in durability than it’s small block V8 cousin, a compression and a leak down test showed that the rings and valve guides had seen better days. Fortunately for me, I was in auto shop class in high school, so a few dollars for pistons, rings, bearings, gaskets, some machine work and presto – a rebuilt engine!
You know that great feeling when a plan finally comes together? The engine started up on the first try, and served me well for the next eight years. Even when it was run without oil or coolant, temperature gauge pegged, and smoke pouring out of the engine compartment! Oh, but wait, I’m getting ahead of myself…
As my personal finances improved, so did my creativity. Although it did have a shifter on the floor, the shifter itself was surrounded by a vast expanse of carpet – no console on this stripper model. And wouldn’t gauges be nicer than idiot lights on the dash? A search of one of the local junkyards (automotive recyclers for those born after 1990) found a 1968 Camaro SS with a red interior. Removal of a few screws, bolts and wires and the deluxe steering wheel, main gauges, and console with instruments were mine. More black spray paint and more screws, bolts and wires and the newly obtained pieces were safely installed.
Wow – a real live tach, water temperature, ammeter and oil pressure gauge. The oil pressure gauge in the console was interesting in that it ran a live oil line directly from the engine into the car to the rear of the gauge. After all, what could go wrong with a live oil line inside the car? Oh wait, there I go again getting ahead of myself…
Another search found a wrecked 1971 Firebird with high backed bucket seats, so those were removed and mounted. Ah, much more comfortable than the thin stock seats!
Goodyear GT Radials were installed on new slotted mag wheels, and stabilizer bars were added front and rear. This was my first experience with radial tires, and the improvement over bias-belted tires was a revelation. The Chevy six also weighed 188 pounds less than the 350 small block, which meant that my Camaro was better balanced and handled much better than my friend’s Camaro SS 350 or another friend’s Javelin.
A company called Clifford Performance specialized in high performance parts for six cylinder engines, so a set of headers were installed with a dual exhaust. The car was now quicker and got better mileage as well – 18-21 MPG.
Earl Scheib (whose ads consisted of a gravely, chainsmoking voice announcing “I’ll paint any car for $29.95 $39.95 $49.95 $79.95 $99.95!) blessed the car with medium blue metallic paint. Earl Scheib shops were famous for painting anything on the car – chrome trim, insignia’s, you name it.
I removed everything possible, taped what couldn’t be removed and sanded the car for paint prep. No more Butternut Piss Chicken Yellow!
While the new found power was nice, the wide gearing of the three speed left something to be desired. But wait a minute – won’t a four speed transmission just bolt right up? Scouring the newspaper classifieds for a few months, I came upon a Muncie four speed out of a 396 Chevelle. A 40 mile drive, $75 later and the four speed was mine.
Now, if the internet had existed back in 1975, I would have discovered that the SS 396 was offered with the Muncie M22 Rock Crusher close ratio four speed. Awesome if you’re running quarter mile sprints with a big block and a 4.10:1 rear end – not as hot on a six cylinder with a 3.08:1 rear axle. Ah well, these are the life experiences we call “lessons”, right? It was great once the car was moving, but first gear starts could be a bit of a challenge at times for those that I lent my car to.
Speaking of lending my car, have I alluded to a certain “oiling problem”? I was living up in the Southern California mountains, serving as a lifeguard at a church camp. Two counselors wanted to go down the hill to town and do some shopping, so I said “Sure – you can borrow my car”. A couple of hours later I heard a horrendous racket coming up the hill – miles away from the camp. The exhaust sounded familiar, but the rest of the noise, valves clacking, bearings knocking, misfires multiplying – definitely didn’t. I soon saw my car limping up into the parking lot with smoke billowing everywhere. What had they done?!?
Somewhere in their travels, the girls had managed to work the console loose from its mounting. One quick shift into second had sent the console rearward and broken the oil line to the oil gauge. While they couldn’t figure out why oil was spraying everywhere inside the car, they were able to put a couple of towels around the console to keep the oil somewhat contained. By the time the car reached the parking lot, they had climbed 3,500 feet in 85 degree weather, pegged the temperature gauge, lost the coolant, and drained all but 1 quart of oil. The billowing smoke told the rest of the story. I really didn’t want to yell at friends, so I put on a brave face as I listened to their story.
I waited a couple of hours to let the engine and my temper cool down. Even though the engine was obviously ruined, maybe I could get it started and at least limp it downhill to a shop. I drained what little oil was left, changed the filter, added oil, added coolant and tried to start the car. You know what? The car started. It idled, it didn’t leak any fluids, make any clunking noises or overheat from a warped head. I was shocked, as the little six had taken all the abuse that two automotively challenged females could throw at it and came back for more. People may talk about Chrysler’s slant six as being the ultimate in dependability, but that day the Chevy six showed that it could hold its own. Amazingly, it ran just fine for the rest of my ownership, never complaining and never mentioning this episode again.
The Camaro was a great teacher of many things automotive over the years, and one of the lessons taught was the value of strong ventilated disc brakes on a car. My car didn’t have those of course, and therein lies the lesson.
Living at the camp that summer meant that we had Friday night and Saturday off between one group of campers leaving and another checking in. Friday nights often found us quickly showering, then heading down the mountain to grab some food together before driving to our respective homes. There were a variety of cars represented among the staff, and for some reason, we were feeling particularly spunky one week as we headed into town. Now the road down the mountain was twisty and winding up high before entering the top of a valley with a long downhill straightaway. Eric left first in his two liter Pinto, hitting 95 mph on the long straightaway. Gene and his Vega GT left second and hit an even 100 mph.
I left last and decided to see what the car would do on that stretch. Flying down the hill at 115 mph, the engine was singing and tires were gripping.
Oh, did I mention that there was stop sign at the bottom of the hill?
Physics majors can tell us all about the energy and heat generated by slowing a rapidly moving object to a stop. I am not a physics major, but I can say that I started braking earlier than normal as I was aware that brake fade could be a problem with drum brakes. The speedometer told the story as it wound down from 115 to 105, 95, 85, 75, 65, downshift to third, 60, 55 hey we’re not slowing as fast anymore! I stood on the non-power assisted brakes even harder and saw 50, 45, 42 downshift to second, oh my gawd that stop sign is coming up, 40, 38, 36, this isn’t going to be good….
I blew through the stop sign at 35 mph, unable to do anything but perhaps send the car off the road into the ditch ending in multiple rollovers. Did I mention that I worked at a church camp, and God smiles on the stupid as well as the young? The cross road had an open sight line in both directions, and I could see that, miraculously, there was no cross traffic. I took my foot off the brake as I went through the intersection, staying in second gear and hoping that the brakes would cool enough to allow me to stop in another mile where the next stop sign was.
Youthful indiscretions can be instructive or fatal, depending on the location of a car on a cross road, a deer jumping out from behind a tree, or a wheel bearing failure at 180,000 miles. None of these happened that day, and I lived to tell the tale, taking to heart a lesson in physics and becoming slightly wiser.
The Camaro served me well for eight years, hauling up to eight people (it was high school!), trekking on annual beach camping trips up and down the California coast as well as multiple trips to Denver to visit my Mom. I knew that our time was coming to a close when I got a new job in downtown LA. A three piece suit, no air conditioning, and a long commute in stop and go traffic added up to finally outgrowing my first car.
Our next COAL, however, deals not with the Camaro’s replacement but with a sexy little Italian that caught my eye and played with my heart…
Cast iron cylinder heads cope with being overheated quite well, its the alluminium ones that dont and blowing the capillary line off an oil pressure gauge isnt as rare as you think Ive had it happen but fortunately realised where the oil was coming from stopped disconnected the line at the engine and plugged the fitting hole with a bolt, cheap plastic line on an accessory gauge, the oil line to the gauge in my current classic is copper with proper screw on brass fittings so far so good, Cool car and a six would be a raity now.
First car, ’70 Duster with a 198 /6. Radiator blew, dumped all the coolant about two miles from home. Made the two miles, despite stalling multiple times with spark knock like you read about. $50 later for a boneyard radiator and coolant, and it was as good as new. It had over 100k on it when this happened.
Nice use of scrolling for reading humor.
“… Flying down the hill at 115 mph … ” and in seeing the stop sign coming up on the screen creates a genuine chuckle and smile.
” … 50, 45, 42 downshift to second … 40, 38, 36, this isn’t going to be good….” and in seeing the old movie clip of a car going off a cliff creates an out loud laugh.
I’m pretty sure you had a smile when you created these COAL post moments.
Nicely done.
CC has a proud history of 6 cylinder love and this COAL fits right in.
Thanks rlplaut – I’m actually a big fan of your writing. Your COAL’s had life stories told in an entertaining fashion – very well done!
I bet that Camaro was a fun little go-getter to drive. The 4 speed surely took better advantage of the 6’s torque curve a lot better than the 3 speed.
I also hot rodded my first car, a ’77 Grand Prix, with a 455 that eventually made its way into an ’80 Firebird. The Firebird met the disastrous end scenario outlined in this story but luckily I kept the GP and was able to swap the 455 back into that car and hold onto it for another 29 years.
Looking forward to the next one!
Thanks Lt Dan. You may have to enjoy a few of these from outside the car though, as some, like the next, may be a little tight to squeeze into…
I’m sure your buddy Gene’s Vega GT had no problem with that stop sign – Vega’s had good brakes – but speaking from personal experience it wouldn’t have survived the overheating incident so well. Cast iron cylinder head and all; it’s what’s below the head on a Vega that couldn’t cope with overheating. And lack of oil as well as coolant wouldn’t help. Great stories, and having spent my formative driving years close to California mountains I can relate to the joys of experiencing radial tires and aftermarket sway bars.
Yep – both the Pinto and Vega had those new fangled disc brakes. Drum brakes, of course, offered the benefits of not stopping when they were hot or when they were wet. Those of us who are a “certain age” remember having to lightly ride the brakes after going through water to dry the brakes out for the next stop. Funny how drivers in other parts of the world got disc brakes while we in the US weren’t allowed to have nice things. We eventually got them, but the US definitely trailed other countries on disc brake adoption.
Oh my, so much here. One’s first experience of massive brake fade is never forgotten. And woe be unto he when it happens at the wrong time. God does indeed look after fools, says me from personal experience.
I only recently learned about the Chevy direct-feed oil pressure gauge – was that a Chevy thing or was that common among different brands back then? But you have to love an engine that can handle that kind of abuse and come back smiling.
I am really enjoying this series.
Thanks JPC. Direct feed oil pressure gauges were actually common and desirable, as they were direct reading and had little to go wrong. Foreign sports cars particularly went this route, as a quick acting direct gauge told you what was going on as opposed to what happened. If some dumb Camaro owner had better secured a certain console, perhaps certain Exxon Valdez spillage wouldn’t have occurred…
I installed an after market oil pressure gauge in my Vega, go figure, the one instrument that would be of most use to a Vega driver was not part of the GT package, This oil pressure gauge was direct feed and, as originally installed, tended to spit out the oil line, fortunately for me the line would blow loose at the engine end and not in the car. I could tell when the line blew off its fitting as copious amounts of oil smoke would be coming from the engine compartment. It took us several tries but eventually field expedient engineering won out and the line was securely fixed to the sending unit.
The GM factory installation did not use the plastic line and compression fittings of the aftermarket. On my ’71 Chevy pickup the steel oil gage line was very secure and even had an expansion loop under the dash.
Great story! And I thought I got myself entangled in some youthful, automotive hi-jinx! This is an amazing testament to Chevrolet engineering of the era.
Wow, this was great, I like the continuation of the last COAL here. Lots of fun upgrades, each one a huge deal to a young guy seeing his car vastly “improved” from stock and in this case actually improved every time. The car looks great, always good to see actual period photos of the real thing. Looking forward to reading about the Italian!
I could feel coming down that hill and blowing thru the stop sign, the way you’d written about it. Glad you and the Camaro survived…
This was a great way to start the morning. Like several others, I am enjoying your COAL series. You should go buy a few more cars soon so you can keep the train running longer. 🙂
Thanks Jason. I’m not sure about buying more cars, but I do have enough COAL’S to last through the summer, so this train won’t be ending anytime soon!
The Chevy I-6 was a great little engine…had a 250 in my first car – a 71 Nova – absolutely no need for more, particularly in a first car…
I love it. Swapping in a M-22 into a six banger Camaro! You’re right, that was not exactly the right one, given its close ratios. But who knew, right? Trial and error.
You probably know this, but the wide-ratio four speed was an option on these six cylinder Camaros, but how many were made is the question. It was probably cheaper to just get a V8 with the three-speed, and significantly faster.
Thanks for another great read!
I didn’t know that Chevy offered a four speed with the six – but there is it, plain as day on the order sheet! I imagine that a four speed/six cylinder would have been a true unicorn.
I learned to drive a stick shift on a friend’s 67 Camaro, 327 2 barrel and a three on the tree. Torque galore, but not the economy of the six!
Very jealous of your youthful wrenching skills. Like others have said, fantastic descriptive writing, I found myself actually laughing out loud. Looking forward to the rest of your COAL series.
My 1967 Camaro…a base model srtippo with entry-level 327, Powerglide and an AM radio…that was it…shared the same lousy, thinly-padded seats (black vinyl…great on hot days…NOT) and Fade-O-Matic drum brakes, and I have similar memories about them. An Addco rear sway bar helped the handling enormously, lightening the heavy understeer. Powerglide didn’t get its durability reputation from mine. It burned the high clutch in 40,000 miles and when I got rid of the car at 65,000 it was slipping again, and the 327 was burning oil, I suspect through valve guides. It was a snazzy looking car but snazz only goes so far. Next car was a boxy Plymouth Valiant Signet, with the Slant Six, Torquelite, air conditioning, nicely padded seats and front disc brakes. No snazz but a lot more car.
Tell me as I am a non American. Is there that much differance in torque and power between a Six and 327 V8. The consensus with the Mustang Was The lighter front end made the six’s better handling than the V8s ?.
Yes!
The 230 six was rated at 140 gross hp and 220 gross ft.lbs
The base two barrel 327 was rated at 210 gross hp and 320 ft.lbs
The four barrel 327 was rated at 275 gross hp and 355 ft.lbs.
Yes, the lighter weight of sixes, especially when teamed with the lighter manual transmission had less weight on the front end and intrinsically had less understeer. But with a HD suspension, bigger wheels and tires a V8 could make up that difference in absolute cornering power.
I had a early 70 Maverick with key on the dash and a 170 six. A 71 Maverick with a 200 six, and a 75 Granada with a 250 six. All were anvil reliable, and all were barely able to pull the skin of a rotten banana. All were C4 auto equipped.
Oh I struggled with an employer’s Maverick with a 200 six and C4. Painful memories, as it felt like you were flogging a sick horse just to go anywhere. The monotone drone of the exhaust was like nails on a chalkboard. And your description of the awesome pulling power of those motors is spot on.
I could have gone years without remembering that…
In 1973 I got a new-to-me ’71 Fiat 128. I was living in Boulder, Colorado. I got a few friends to come along for the ride and drove a few miles up into the mountains behind Boulder. On the way back I rode the brakes most of the way down. The 128 had front disk brakes, but that was too much for them. As we got back to the edge of town there was a stop sign, and I ran it. Fortunately there was no cross traffic.
This was the first time I encountered this exact situation, but I had a couple of years of prior car ownership under my belt. In hindsight I should have downshifted and used engine braking all the way down. The irony is, I thought of myself as a gearhead even then.
Great story, a mountain area in California is beautiful. I spent one summer in Kirkwood ski resort near Tahoe, with a lot of curves until you get to the valley but old Plymouth minivan full of girls and me 🙂 sure did brake quite well and was not pushed to the limits. I remember one pass going up I had troubles to keep above 55 MPH with that little six working hard. Thanks for bringing back fun memories.
Fun read and I am endlessly impressed by your upgrades. Too bad about the 4-speed gearing, sounds like that was the only change that didn’t work exactly as planned. I find the thought of a Chevy six with a four-speed floor shift very inviting. Isn’t it amazing how much information you can find on-line these days? In a few minutes you could have looked up the gearing for that transmission and known if it would work for you.
I did cringe a little at the thought of that Vega engine doing 100. Mine would do 95, but trying that once was enough. I hope he checked the oil and coolant levels first. For some reason, Vegas had good brakes, I never had to do any work on mine in 75,000 miles.
Nowadays there are lots and lots of upgrades for the Chevy Six. The hardest part is getting past the “Just put an LS in it” lecture from the young man at the parts counter. That, and hitting the “Buy Now” button.
I look forward to your next set of upgrades.
A lot of six-cylinder ponycars were built in the sixties, and they weren’t that bad. The allure of a practical, fuel-efficient (for the times) drivetrain in a stylish, four passenger car is the reason sales were so stunning. Many who were interested in a ponycar didn’t want or need the performance of a V8.
One of the more memorable attempts at ‘an American Jaguar’ was Delorean putting an OHC-6 into the Firebird. Unfortunately, V8 engines were the order of the day, and the Sprint 6 didn’t make it into the second generation Firebird.
What a great story. My favorite part is “and God smiles on the stupid as well as the young”. I think we all have had some youthful indiscretions
My ’68 el Camino lost most of it’s brakes while I was taking an downhill exit off the Interstate. I felt the brakes go (I think the master cylinder lost one of it’s two circuits), and I mashed the pedal to the floor. It barely, barely stopped at the stop sign and that was with me downshifting into 2nd and flooring the parking brake! I’ve never lost brakes suddenly before or since. I pass that exit now and then and I still shudder a little.
It was very similar to your Camaro, just a stripper el Camino in what was close to your shade of yellow with a 250, three on the tree and an AM radio. Not even A/C, which made Arkansas summers especially fun! At least it had a bench seat for three people.
I don’t know if your transmission change would have worked on my 250. A close ratio M-22 or the stock three speed with the huge gap in ratios between second and third, which either meant lugging uphill at the then legal 55 or downshifting to 2nd and 35 mph. I was so wishing for a four speed with properly spaced gears the entire time I had it.
Excellent story, I loved reading it. Reminds me of some of the things that I did to my cars when I started to modify, the junkyards were great places to find “upgrade” parts from higher trimmed versions.
Also reminds me of some of the stupid things I did in my cars as a young kid!