This week we’ll take a closer look at the new 1960 compacts, starting with the most radically new one, the Corvair. Motor Life tested all three in a comparison that included the usual measured road test as well as a long distance trip test, to see how these compacts measured up to the real-world demands. And I’m also including some reviews from Car Life, for more perspective, especially since they tested all three transmission versions.
I’ve written a raft of posts on the Corvair, a car that has a special place in my heart as my first car (’63 Monza four-door four-speed), but these tests were interesting to read as they represent the motoring press’ first take on it. The Corvair was the most unique new domestic car since the FWD Cord 810. As such, it was a rather bold gamble by GM, but its father, Ed Cole, had enough political push to make it happen. And the result was, well, mostly quite good, although the Corvair’s best days were still ahead of it.
The Corvair was a radical solution, for an American maker. In hindsight, it’s easy to question the decision to have a rear air-cooled engine. But in the late ’50s, when it was being developed, that configuration still offered some very real advantages. The floor could be low and flat, steering could be light, negating any need for power steering, and braking was inherently better, since the front-rear weight ratio prevented the front brakes from being overwhelmed. The lack of a liquid cooling system was also still seen as a benefit.
It’s important to note that in 1960, the Corvair was positioned as an economical compact car, and not the sporty car it quickly morphed into when the Monza coupe appeared in the spring of 1960, along with an available high output engine and followed soon by a four speed transmission. The Monza drastically transformed the image of the Corvair, and was a surprise hit, causing Ford to create the Mustang. I’ve argued that it was the most influential car of the sixties, launching the whole affordable sporty car sector.
Meanwhile, the initial 1960 Corvair clearly had a few rough edges, some that would be corrected in 1961 when it was substantially revised in a number of ways. And given its role as a family economy car, its potentially tricky handling at the extreme limits had been identified, but not seen as an issue given its intended role. It was simply a question as to which end would go through the fence if a corner was taken in excess of its (considerable) abilities.
The Corvair’s four-wheel independent suspension came in for praise, since it yielded a significantly better ride on rough roads. Traction was superb. The body was stiff and rattle-free. It was a car that rewarded drivers, even if its performance potential was still rather limited in its initial form.
The interior of the Corvair came in for praise and criticism. “The Corvair’s (interior) capacity in one of its happiest assets. It is the lowest American car on the outside yet it has the most interior headroom, bar none.(!!) Foot room, front and rear is quite good and the nearly flat floor makes the packing of more than four passengers into the car possible, if not too comfortable.”
This shows painfully just how bad the interior space utilization of America’s big cars were at the time. As to riding three across, naturally it was a bit more painful than a full size car with its greater width. But it was uncomfortable even in the widest of them.
But the choice of interior materials came in for criticism. Chevrolet really pinched the pennies here, in an effort to keep prices low and the profit margin high in the face of building a car that was not intrinsically cheap to build. The Monza solved that issue very effectively, and GM quickly figured out that a penalty box Corvair was not what its buyers wanted. They wanted some pizazz to go along with its spunk.
Somewhat surprisingly, the front luggage compartment was deemed more commodious than expected, despite the spare still being stored there (It would move to the engine compartment in 1961). And then there was the additional luggage area behind the rear seat, which could also be flipped down for a large cargo area.
Motor Life’s Corvair was equipped with the Powerglide, which was presumed to be the cause of lower gas mileage (19.3 mpg) and the somewhat modest performance (0-60 in 18.2 seconds). It was speculated that the standard three-speed manual would improve both figures. The fuel economy undoubtedly so, by 3-4 of mpg (I used to get 22-24 mpg in mine). But in terms of performance, as the subsequent tests by Car Life shows, that was actually not the case. The three-speed’s ratios were not at all conducive to good performance, with the gap from second to third being a canyon. Ed Cole originally wanted the Corvair to come standard with the Powerglide, but costs scotched that. In reality, the three-speed was a poor choice for the Corvair, and the PG a better one. That is, until the four speed came along.
Overall, the Corvair received a very positive appraisal, with some caveats. In the second part, the Corvair gets taken on a long-distance trip.
I’m not going to offer a lot more commentary on this section. The Corvair’s interior space was lauded, although the bench seats lacked adequate cushioning. It had a good ride, responsive handling, although it tended to bob a bit over bumps, an intrinsic feature of its rear engine and swing axles. Fuel economy over the 912 miles was 20.3 mpg, with average highway seeds of 60 mph.
It ended with these words: “Chevrolet’s baby, although a compact, is no less adequate or comfortable for average distance family travel than a standard sized car…In short, the Corvair is compact only from the outside—inside it’s big enough”.
Thanks to CC Contributor Vince C., we also have three shorter reviews of the 1960 Corvair by Road & Track, of all three transmission versions: Powerglide, three-speed and the new four-speed that came along late in the year. And there’s a surprise: the Powerglide version was quicker than the three-speed stick.
This first review was a press event held at GM’s proving grounds near Milford, MI. The tested version had the three-speed stick shift.
The praise for the Corvair’s excellent space utilization is lavish: “Hip room, leg room, head room—all are so nearly equal to what has become standard practice in US cars that all excuses for having a ‘big’ car become silly…the nearly dead-flat floor makes the large 6-seater even sillier.” The Corvair’s relative quietness is noted too, thanks to the very smooth and mildly-tuned boxer six hanging out back.
The steering was slower (4.8 turns) than would have been preferred, but it did make it quite light and easy to park. The Corvair’s slow steering was something that tended to blunt its genuine sporting capabilities, even as its performance potential was considerably improved. “Fast steering” kits would become a common aftermarket upgrade for more serious sporting drivers.
R&T reiterated the same reality as did Motor Life about handling: “The Corvair positively understeers under any and all conditions up to the point of total loss of adhesion. This is accepted as the best design practice and only during the wildest possible cornering is the effect lost. Only then does the rear-end weight make itself felt, and with the usual and expected result—on a total spin-out the rear end swings out into oversteer.” I’ll add that in my time with my Corvair, despite very enthusiastic driving through curvy and mountainous terrain, I never arrived at that limit, or felt it was imminent. I did feel the rear end start to make itself known, in a controlled degree of oversteer, but never did I lose total adhesion, except of course when I was doing so on purpose on snow and ice.
R&T discusses the issue of the Corvair’s tires, which were a new wider, lower profile design and used unusually wide (5.5″) rims, for the times, and discussed the issue of their highly differential F/R pressures. A further recap of its handling, which was already developing a bit of a rep at the time, ensues, with the same issues as discussed earlier. It was inevitable that a rear engine car, especially one with such a large and heavy engine resulting in 60-62% of the weight being on the rear tires would expose Americans to something decidedly different, at its limits.
The Corvair went on to develop a rep for nasty and deadly crashes as a result of loss of control from sudden maneuvers, braking in a fast turn, and/or likely poor judgment given Americans’ familiarity with front-heavy understeers. This was undoubtedly exacerbated by GM’s decision to leave out a $4 sway bar, as well as not make other changes, such as an anti-camber compensating spring. I covered this dark chapter of the Corvair here, asking is it was GM’s Deadliest Sin.
Performance was “frankly a little disappointing”. The Corvair’s 140 CID (2.2L) six was tuned extremely mildly, rated at 80 gross hp, 65 net hp. The result was acceleration that was below the norm given its calculated power-to-weight ratio. It was chalked up to the engine’s inability to rev, as well as the less-than ideal ratios in the three-speed transmission. Initial timed runs to 60 took a VW-like 22.5 seconds, and after some more runs, a best time of 19.5 seconds was achieved. That’s over a second slower than the PG equipped Corvair in Motor Life’s test above.
But ML did note that the Corvair’s gearing and low-rev engine made for an exceptional low wear index. Top speed was not tested, but Chevrolet’s number was 88 mph.
Lots of positive comments about space, seating, light controls, and virtually fade-proof (drum) brakes, thanks to its rear engine, which resulted in near perfect 50-50 F/R braking distribution.
The Corvair’s gas-fired auxiliary heater was lauded (that became optional in 1961 with the advent of a standard heater using the engine’s cooling air). Their conclusion was that the Corvair was to be lauded since it needed no power steering, brakes and other power accessories to function fully and properly. “In fact, the Corvair is a sane, sensible, well-designed car of a type we’ve been asking for for 10 years.” But their prediction of Chevrolet having difficulty meeting demand turned out to be wishful thinking. But then this was essentially the voice of John Bond, who owned and ran Road & Track, and was a tireless advocate for smaller and more rational cars.
R&T also tested an automatic transmission version sometime later, and found that it was quicker than the three-speed:
R&T points out that this was the first time they had encountered or heard of an automatic version being quicker than the manual version. But their number clearly showed that to be the case, with the PG Corvair making the 0-60 sprint in 17.5 seconds, versus 19.5 for the stick. Note that this PG Corvair was lent to them by a private owner, and tuned up properly to factory specs. It was a second faster than Motor Life’s PG car. The explanation is not really all that surprising, since a torque converter covers the gear ratios of at least two gears, and then gives an additional torque boost when shifting into High. I’ve pointed out that a two-speed Powerglide is more than comparable to a three-speed manual. And this example really shows that in the best light.
But what it really points out is the need for a four speed manual.
Stirling Moss summed up his experience with a three-speed manual Corvair: “First and 2nd gears feel like first and 2nd in a 5-speed box, 3rd feels like 5th!” Not unlike the ridiculous wide ratios in the Vega’s three-speed manual. History repeats itself.
R&T was able to get a four speed transmission from Chevrolet in the summer of 1960, several months before it became available in the ’61 models. they had it installed in publisher John Bond’s personal Corvair, and were most enthusiastic about the results. The car accelerated quicker (0-60 in 16.4), and was much more fun to drive. And this was still the base 80hp version.
The gear ratios were still not ideal, with first and second still being too low (this issue would be solved in a year or so with better spaced ratios). Shifts were made at 4800 rpm, showing just how modestly the base Corvair engine was tuned. But third gear was an extremely welcome addition, giving a gear that was ideal for around-town puttering, or shifting down in corners. And for passing, when the starting speed was low enough, say 50 mph.
Somewhat curiously, they also got better acceleration times for the three-speed, using a different protocol. Now 0-60 came in 17.8 seconds, only 0.3 seconds slower than the PG version.
There was considerable anticipation of the expected arrival of the higher-output 95 hp version, which had a revised camshaft allowing higher engine speeds, up to 6000 rpm, although power peak was still well below that.
There is also some discussion about the Corvair’s sales not quite meeting expectations, and “vicious rumors” about fan belts jumping, and a few other issues. It ends with this prophetic line: “The true test of this car’s public acceptance will come during its 2nd and 3rd year of production—and we think the air-cooling feature alone is enough to warrant a slight premium in first cost”.
As it turned out, Corvair sales jumped significantly in 1961 and again in 1962, but it was thanks to the Monza and its bucket seats which really made the Corvair appealing, not the air cooling. And folks were happy for the small premium in price for that.
Here’s some of our CC gen1 Corvair Bibliography:
How the 1960 Corvair Started a Global Design Revolution PN
1960 Monza Coupe: The Most Influential Car of the Decade PN
1960-1963 Corvair: GM’s Deadliest Sin? PN
Warm Comfort: Heating Optional – Your Choice of Gasoline or Engine Heat PN
Cold Comfort: 1962 Corvair Factory Air conditioning Tom H.
CC 1962 Corvair Lakewood Wagon: Why Did We Go Ahead and Build This? PN
CC 1963 Monza Spyder Convertible: The Turbo Revolution Started Here PN
CC 1963 Monza Coupe: A Coup for Chevrolet, A Sedan for Me PN
So if you gave an American the design spec of a Beetle this is what he would have come up with. Then there was Nader….
I still say Ralph Nader didn’t kill the Corvair, Lee Iacocca did. Once the Mustang was on the market and GM started feverishly fast development of what would become the Camaro, it was over. They launched the second-gen in 1965 having probably already decided they wouldn’t put any more money into the Corvair program.
I’ve long speculated that if it weren’t for the Nader book the 1966 Corvair would’ve been the last with the 1967 Camaro a direct replacement, but it was kept in production to save face.
It’s a shame GM threw everything out rather than moving the entire powertrain to the front.
So true. The significant cost of manufacturing a relatively complicated car that shared little with other GM products made the early Corvair too expensive to compete with the conventional Falcon and Valiant as an econobox. Then, when Corvair’s identity turned more sporty with the Monza, it ran right into the arrival of the Mustang. GM developed the Chevy II to take on the first issue and the Camaro the second. By 1966, well before Nader’s book, the Corvair was a dead duck. A car with no market and no future.
To think they could invest so much into something with so little parts commonality while today’s GM is reduced to practically killing off passenger cars altogether in favor of trucks and crossovers.
I’ve long since given up asking “If (company name) can sell xx,xxx of a four-door Camry / Fusion / Altima / Accord / Sonata / Malibu / 200 / Optima / 6 / Legacy / etc., why not a 2-door version with the same powertrain, dash layout, front and rear styling?”
They could justify the expense because GM had huge market share and the Chevrolet division accounted for about half of their sales. Little was shared, but the Corvair alone was expected to sell in numbers to justify its uniqueness economically. The concept of product differentiation justified its unique engineering.
Well, GM did try to have some part commonality with the other divisions getting ‘senior’ compacts that shared the Corvair’s floorpan, but virtually nothing else. No one was interested in the rear engine configuration, and this was back when the divisions had a pretty good degree of autonomy.
Closest was Pontiac. Originally, they were going to get a Corvair-clone called Polaris but Delorean was able to beg-off with a front-engine, rear-drive version (the infamous Trophy 4 Tempest, aka hay-bailer, with the ‘rope-drive’ driveshaft that linked to the Corvair’s rear transaxle).
Maybe if GM corporate wielded more power back then, they could have forced the other divisions to accept the commonality that would have lowered the Corvair’s costs and, presumably, the price.
In an ironic twist, GM ‘did’ eventually have that kind of control during the Roger Smith years but the pendulum had swung too far in the other direction with cars in the eighties that were too much alike between the different divisions. Definitely way cheaper to build, but no one wanted to pay a higher price for the higher-tier marques, either.
The Mustang killed the Corvair, not Nader.
100% correct, Paul !
The corvair killed the corvair, not mustang. The corvair was pure garbage. On paper, the Monza Spyder seemed like a spiffy little go better when it came out. And I really liked it’s looks too. I never had the pleasure of driving one to find out for myself. But the rest of the corvair line was trash. Horrible fuel mileage horrible handling, and horrible reliability. It died quickly for a very good reason.
As much as I have admired my various LM (1965-1969) Corvair variants; a Valiant would had been my first choice in 1960.
I would have held off until 1963. That Exner design was fugly.
The 1963 was an Exner design too, which I was surprised to learn.
Did Car Life republish Road & Track tests? I have those exact articles in R&T, and of course they say Road & Track on the data panel. I know they were published by the same company, with Car Life focused more on domestic makes. I’ve never seen a copy of Car Life, though.
I started reading Car Life about 1965, it was my favorite automotive magazine of the ’60s; it wasn’t as snarky as Car & Driver and from a technical perspective much better than Motor Trend and not as stuffy as Road Track which always seemed to have a rather elitist quality to its writing. Unfortunately the magazine ceased publication in 1971. I was somewhat surprised about their comments on the Corvair’s handling-nothing about oversteer that it was prone to. I never drove a Corvair, although I did ride in a couple and I was impressed by the ride quality.
Unfortunately, the public didn’t give a whit about the vehicle’s “advanced engineering”, and overwhelmingly preferred the Falcon as it had a more attractive interior and more trunk space.
I had a subscription to Car Life in the 1960s. It showed less bias toward European trends (Road and Track), less favoritism toward advertising carmakers (Motor Trend) and less blathering self centeredness (Car and Driver) than its competitors. But it came to an end when it was sold, I think to Motor Trend, and the subscription lists were merged.
This is, without a doubt, an important car. What I’ve read here that struck me most forcefully was when in the first article, it was written that GM broke away from everything that came before it. This was the Corvair’s biggest accomplishment, and in my opinion, its biggest drawback. Exner-designed silliness might have made cars look dramatically different during the previous five years, but the Corvair was dramatically different.
Ed Cole really created an engineering moment. The fact that the Corvair exists at all makes him a significant auto pioneer. It took a lot of confidence and faith to not pull back from Cole’s designs. GM was at a special moment in its history and success to let Cole pull this off.
After the quality issues effecting domestic cars during these years, it is understandable that the market pulled back from the Corvair and didn’t enthusiastically embrace it. Ford was reeling from the Edsel debacle, DeSoto was being euthanized, Buick was on the chopping block, Packard was gone, Nash and Hudson were history and the Eisenhower Recession ripples were still being felt. Expecting such a market to embrace a completely different car was a tall order that didn’t succeed.
What we see succeeding in this class of car was tried-and-true designs, such as the Beetle, the Lark and the Falcon. None of these cars were really new like the Corvair. The Beetle had been around for over a decade by 1960, the Lark was a 1953 Studebaker and the Falcon was a 1955 Ford. Even the old Nash Metropolitan had its best sales year in 1960. The market seemed to want a stable design, not a new one. When we consider what succeeded in the showroom, and what we see regarding the Corvair, we can see that the market wanted a new size, but not a new design.
Americans in 1960 were comfortable with uniformity. Experiencing WWII, young veterans recognized the strength in conformity, planning, camaraderie, expertise and logic. America was growing in plotted suburbs, Mies van der Rohe skyscrapers, and new interstates, schools and towns. Beatniks were non-conformists and lived in Greenwich Village, not in Levittown.
I wish the Corvair did succeed. It deserved success. It is disappointing when one of our beloved auto manufacturers goes out on a limb, but the limb breaks. We all know that when this happens, the people who took the risks also took the falls and risk taking goes back into the corporate ether.
The Corvair may have been beaten by the Falcon in total sales, but it did succeed in attracting new customers to Chevrolet showrooms. The Falcon stole a fair amount of sales from the less expensive full-size Fords. Full-size Chevrolet sales, meanwhile, were not affected by the debut of the Corvair.
Plus, Corvair sales accelerated with the debut of the coupe and the Monza subseries.
Despite debuting during the same model year, and being roughly the same size and price, the Corvair and Falcon hit different targets. The Corvair really did attract people who had been smitten with the sport imports. The Falcon attracted people who disliked the ballooning size of the standard American car, and wanted something familiar but easier to drive and park, and with better fuel economy.
So I wouldn’t call the Corvair a failure. If there was a failure, it was on the part of GM management to initially realize what it had in the Corvair.
Buying a foreign car in the ’50’s was for many people a way of giving the establishment the equivalent of the mid-finger salute and proclaiming their independence from the conformity of the time(the “organization man” and such.)
General Motors missed that and viewed small cars in economic terms only-low purchase price and fuel economy. When the Corvair debuted it was aimed at mainstream buyers who thought it was too radical and liked the totally conventional Falcon much better.
It’s been written before, but the Falcon’s stellar sales numbers came at a price: cannibalization of large Fords. GM had no such problem with the Corvair. Sales figures confirm that no one was cross-shopping a traditional drivetrain Chevy with a Corvair, so those Corvair sales were real increases in market share.
When looked at in that manner, the Corvair was more of a success than the Falcon.
The “compacts” objective in fall 1959 was to “beat the imports” which had increased their market share to close to 10%. (due to various reasons we could discuss all day)
The imports, with the notable and important exception of VW would have beaten themselves, since with the exception of expensive a Mercedes and VW, the fell apart in the US (also due to various factors).
The Falcon was the sales “champ”….and sales of full size Fords dropped. Darts and Valiants similarly appealed to American car buyers.
Many, dare I say most, early Corvairs, were bought by people who would’ve otherwise bought an import.
In that sense, the Corvair was the winner. By 1962, imports were under 5%. That was their low point.
Today, on any given day, one find several Corvairs for sale online. Not many Falcons.
The tire pressure differential F/R was in all probability widely ignored. It may have even started at the dealerships as part of the new car prep.
” Why would the factory do that? It’s just dumb!” This is what thousands of lot boys and gas station attendants must have thought as they aired the tires up to 28 psi all around, as per their usual custom.
A friend of mine, who is 10 years older, often tells of “endo-ing” his 3 month old ’63 Corvair. A high school graduation present from his parents, he lost control on a cloverleaf exit ramp. He survived with only bruises, despite not using seatbelts.
When he first told me this story (30 some years after it happened)I asked him about if he knew about the critical role tire pressure played in Corvair handling.
He said “Hell no, nobody ever said shit to me about it!”
I’m convinced that the unseen “Tarantula” car in the 1964 Dick Van Dyke Show episode ‘Scratch My Car and Die’ was based on the Monza Spyder:
Rob: “There is no trunk! That is the auxiliary motor!”
Buddy: “Did you ever see one of those Tarantulas? They are built so close to the ground, if you want to get in you have to come up through a manhole.”
I could easily see Rob and Laura Petrie in an early Corvair, or any of the B-O-P compacts. Maybe a Valiant, too, or even a ’58-59 Rambler.
The only way they’d have had a ’60 Falcon is if the Alan Brady Show was sponsored by Ford.
Ironically, in one of the two times the Petrie’s car was shown (the first was something like a stock photo of a late fifties Dodge hardtop on the highway), the car in Rob’s garage was clearly a Mustang hardtop.
Before Junior High my Dad indulged his long-gone Corvair regret (before my arrival, Mom simply could not be educated in the nuances of the manual transmission, so the 62 Monza gave way to a 66 LeMans with an automatic) snapping up a $200 yard-car from a neighbor, rehabbing it to drivable condition, and sending it for a brief trip to Tijuana for paint and interior work.
Years later, for $2000 he was able to get an all-original 64 Monda Spyder 4-speed turbo from a widow selling off the late-husband’s ride. Aside from paint and some detail work, and repeated fits from fuel leaks, that one remained unchanged and won a few shows. Growing success meant employers actually paid to have that one moved to Texas, to Kansas, and back to Texas. Growing success also allowed him to add a 66 Convertible to the stable (one more for the employer to move). This one didn’t need paint but was automatic so Mom could take it to shows for a 2-car presence.
Until they upgraded to a three-car garage, I was storing the 64 in my garage. Upon retirement, the 64 began to develop an expensive sounding lifter knock, and ended up having to find a home with someone willing to make the investment needed to fix it. Years later they relocated to Las Vegas and downsized. The 66 had to go but even today he still occasionally wishes he had it for cool desert nights.
Significantly, the only time I ever drove any of them was when moving the 64 from my garage to their new house, about 10 miles. I’d finally demonstrated enough capability with a manual to be trusted. I was driving one of those wannabe-Miata Mercury Capris at the time and had never before and never since experienced a 1960s-era manual-transmission. It was … different. Was impossible for me to imagine driving something so softly-sprung and interestingly-weighted with any measure of sportiness. Different times indeed.
Even without the Mustang and Ralph Nader, I wonder how much of a future the Corvair would have had. In Europe, I think the writing was already on the wall by 1960 (or soon thereafter) that a front-drive, water-cooled car was the future of compact packaging. Sure, Renaults and Beetles and a few others kept going for a while, but by the 1970s, the Beetle was an anachronism to some extent. I think U.S. emission standards would have made air-cooling a liability on their own.
Regardless, and as a Corvair owner myself, the original Corvair was such a nice-looking car compared to the others on the market (no offense intended, I like them too).
A three-speed must have been a bit annoying…the gear spacing on my ’65 4-speed doesn’t always feel quite right. There are a lot of times where I’d like there to be something between second and third or between third and fourth.
There’s no question that the Corvair was a dead end. And I think Chevy knew it all too soon. It was only the Monza and its sporty attributes that gave it an extension in life. As a basic economy car, it was essentially DOA. It was not a vehicle for the 1970s.
But ten years was plenty of time to amortize it. If there hadn’t been a Mustang, the gen2 might have had a pretty solid run yet.
Yes, the gear ratios in the Corvair four speed never seemed “just right”. I seem to remember Aaron from AUWM saying something about that, that because they had to shoe-horn in another gear, there were certain limitations in the ratios.
After 5 only partially successful knee operations I knew my days of “left legging” a clutch pedal were in the past.
Imagine my surprise when I discovered a Powerglide equipped Corvair was 98% as fast as my past 4 speed Monza models! Also a more pleasant car to drive around town.
Nader’s book was released in November of 1965, a year and month after the second gen Corvair had come out (and that car is rightly not a subject for his attention in the book).
It is a logical impossibility for him to be the killer of the Corvair.
That original 4-door is just a fascinatingly wantable thing, from the elegant looks to the oddball specs. (Has any other car, besides the 911, ever had an aircooled flat six?) And its whole tale will never fail to fascinate me: such as being rear-engined so that the styling could be rightly proportioned from big-car cues, meaning no bulky drive hump could be used in a necessarily-low car.
Actually, on that last point, it’s a bit ironic that the perfectly-decent looking Pontiac Tempest used the same shell as this car, with the same humpless floor achieved a great deal more simply by the ingenious rope drive (or do I have that wrong?)
Anyway, I’d sure have one, the super-basic 500 in white with just whitewalls like the top photo. But most likely for static viewing pleasure – it looks like a mobile Phillip Johnson mid-century modern, somehow – because they have swing axles and those things are known to come up through the floor and beat their critics to death.
I also think the 60-64 4-door looks super. And it’s rarer than a 65-69 coupe. I’ll take one of each.
A 4-door 4-speed would be fun!
Good write-up Paul. I am glad you were able to make use of the articles.
I’m a little surprised by that $2500+ price tag for the “loaded” Corvair taken on the trip. A 1960 VW sedan would have been almost a $1000 less. Granted only two doors vs. four and no automatic but the deluxe version VWs sold in the U.S. had nice interior appointments as standard. I wonder if dealer discounts on the Corvair were common at the time.
I’ve owned a 1963 Corvair Spyder since 1989 and live in Detroit Michigan. I have driven it to California, Florida, all over Michigan including the Upper Peninsula. Often pulling down the back seat luggage area and sleeping back there. I’m 6ft one so with the front seats pushed all the way up I had enough room to sleep. It has been reliable and very fun to drive over the years.
Like any machine they have there quirks and issues.
You just keep fixing what ever goes wrong. Its simple.
The Corvair was a success. Although it faded in sales over the 10 years, well over a million Corvair Vehicles were sold at the time. It also introduced to the American car buying public many firsts. Such as the Monza Spyders Turbo. Although Olds had one slightly earlier it proved to be unreliable. The Spyders worked well.
The real measure of success is 60 years later many of these cars are still on the road. Out of that first group of small cars produced by the big three after 1960, it’s the Corvair that really survived. There are clubs, groups, museums and even companies that still produce the parts for them. The Corvair was a successful anomaly then and now.
I belatedly realized these reviews are in fact from Road & Track rather than Car Life. (I had remembered them as Car Life as well, since it’s an American car and the editorial style is about the same.)
I discovered the other day that the Corvair specifications in the Vehicle Information Kit from the GM Heritage Center contain net as well as gross output ratings (as they sometimes did). The net output of the 1960 Corvair engine is listed as 65 hp @ 3,600 rpm and 110 lb-ft @ 2,400 rpm, so your guess was very close to the mark.
(The 1961 engine in the four-speed story, which was bored out to 145 cubic inches, had the same net horsepower, but torque was up to 118 lb-ft @ 2,200 rpm. They unfortunately don’t specify net ratings for most of the optional engines — I was hoping they would have net ratings for the turbocharged engines, but no dice.)
I can’t believe that I didn’t notice the R&T name on the top of some of these scans. Thanks for pointing it out to me; I’ve corrected the text.