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    The other Sunday morning I pulled my McLaren F1 into a Cars & Coffee meet. A young man, probably in his mid-20s, approached me. ‘What’s it like to drive a car like that, with no driver aids of any kind?’ he asked.

    In his driving life, about ten years, he has probably never driven a car without them. In my driving life, which is considerably longer, most of the cars I own and drive have no driver aids at all.

    A good example is my #1953-Hudson-Hornet / #Hudson-Hornet / #Hudson / #1953 , made just before the advent of power steering and power brakes so everything is nicely weighted and balanced, this was the first American post-war design that was totally fresh and new. It featured a Monobilt Step-Down design; that’s where the floor pan was not on top of the frame but on the bottom of it. this not only lowered the car but gave you more headroom. At 60in tall, the Hudson was a good 6in or so lower than its competitors, this gave it a much lower centre of gravity and made it the best-handling American car of the era. It ruled NASCAR in the early ’50s; what it couldn’t do on the straight it made up in corners.

    Its Achilles’ heel was its 308ci flathead six-cylinder engine with two single-barrel carburettors, which in Hudson-speak was called Twin H-Power. In 1949, Oldsmobile revealed its new 303ci overhead-valve Rocket V8 that, with a four-barrel carburettor, gave 160bhp. Actually that was the same as the Hudson Hornet, but with those two extra cylinders and the gold valve covers it was a lot sexier.

    I have a film strip that Hudson sent to dealers, to show prospective customers. It features two cars with the bonnets up: a Rocket 88 and a Hornet. Standing next to the Rocket 88, an exasperated customer yells to a mechanic in a filthy coverall, ‘Why does it take so long to tune up this car?’ ‘It’s those pesky overhead valves,’ the mechanic explains, ‘they’re just too complicated.’

    then the camera pans to the Hudson mechanic who, in his clean, freshly pressed uniform, is gently closing the Hudson’s bonnet after torquing the heads, saying, ‘there you go Mr Johnson, she’s fit as a fiddle.’ As the Hudson owner beams with pride, he pulls away knowing he made the right choice with the tried and true flathead design. For a lot of people the last days of old technology were always better than the first days of new technology.

    A really old-school Hudson feature was that the clutch is lined with cork and runs in oil. It’s amazing how smooth and reliable it is. Another Hudson quirk is two braking systems, in case one fails: a hydraulic system and a mechanical back-up. It’s said that Stuart Baits, the chief engineer, had a bad accident and was seriously injured while testing Hudson’s new hydraulic brake system.

    Baits installed a steel rod, running from the brake pedal to the emergency brake on the rear wheels, to stop the car if the brake pedal ever went past the halfway point. As Henry Ford, who resisted hydraulic brakes up until the 1930s, said: ‘the safety of steel from pedal to wheel.’

    If you ever want to talk no driver aids, look no further than the 1913 Mercer Raceabout. I consider this to be, at least in America, the first true sports car. While other manufacturers were putting a huge lump of an engine, some as big as 12 litres, into a lightweight frame, the Mercer, which also has a lightweight frame, has a five-litre, four-cylinder T-head engine, thus making an extremely well-balanced package. It also features a four-speed gearbox and is one of the fastest and best- handling cars of the era, with a top speed of 100mph.

    It has a monocle windshield bolted to the steering column, no doors and minimal bodywork, the gas pedal is outside the car on the frame rail; your feet are so far apart that the women who’ve driven it say it’s akin to visiting the gynaecologist.

    the brakes don’t so much stop the car as merely retard progress. You have an outside handbrake which stops the rear wheels only, here’s a foot pedal that works as a transmission brake on the propshaft. Caution: use this too often and it will catch fire.

    Apart from the magneto, the Raceabout has no electrics. Even though electric lamps were popular, it has gas lamps, the advantage was that you could pop off the lamps, unbolt the fenders and go racing.

    My favourite thing is the exhaust cut-out to bypass the silencer. A pedal by your left foot opens the exhaust at the bottom of the manifold, the T-head engine, in full song, sounds like four shotguns fired in unison.

    If you’re a real purist about no driver aids, how about this? here’s no electric starter, so you have to hand-crank it. Take that, McLaren F1: who needs an electric starter anyway? Now we’re talking about no driver aids.
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    CAR: #Chevrolet-Nomad / #GM / #1957-Chevrolet-Nomad / #Chevrolet /

    Year of manufacture #1957
    Recorded mileage 18,850
    Asking price £37,500
    Vendor Dave Caruso, Hertfordshire (private sale); tel: 07737 096073

    Price $2757
    Max power 185bhp
    Max torque 275lb ft
    0-60mph 12.3 secs
    Top speed 99mph
    Mpg 15

    This rare wagon came to the UK two years ago, imported from California by the vendor. It’s going only because he has too many other cars vying for his time. It’s straight and apparently rot-free under an older repaint. The solid chassis has a few minor knocks, the inner wings and arches are mint. The only flaws were small bubbles at the base of the passenger door. All of the brightwork is present and undamaged, most of it likely original, and the correct Nomad rear script will be on by the time of sale. The front ‘Dagmar’ rubbers are undamaged, plus the wheeltrims are undinged, the centre badges all intact. It wears a sunvisor plus the dash-mounted ‘signal seer’ prism for reading traffic lights. All the windows (sliding at the sides) open and close as they should, and there are H4 lights, plus new exhausts. It sits on Classic radials, with plenty of tread – including the spare, near which we find new rear dampers and a repaired upper mount on the right.

    The 283 is stock apart from a four-barrel Holley, but the original twin-choke Rochester is included. Its coolant is full and green, the oil darkish and mid marks, while the transmission fluid is pink and sweet-smelling. Inside, it’s superb with all the dash trim intact, though the instrument bezels and the steering column shroud are chromed. The seat covers are probably repro items; the driver’s seat base velour is worn threadbare and a tear in the back was due to be fixed. The headlining is excellent and all of the chrome strips are in place. There are electric wipers, auxiliary gauges under the dash, and it has a modern digital radio in the original slot.

    It starts easily, and drives really well for a 60 year old, suggesting that it’s never been significantly apart. There’s plenty of grunt from the V8 and smooth changes from the three-speed Turboglide, though it’s quite lowgeared. It tracks straight, with no clonks from the suspension, and the re-lined brakes are sharp, but they pull slightly to the right. It’s easy to manage and the compact turning circle comes as a surprise. Oil pressure is over 50psi warm when driving, and coolant steady at about 85ºC. The Chevy will be sold UK-registered – its NOVA paperwork is already done.


    EXTERIOR Straight; repainted; good trim
    INTERIOR All there and all works; some wear to the driver’s seat
    MECHANICALS In rude health; performs well
    VALUE 7/10

    For Standard and super-cool, with desirable options
    Against Bubbles on offside door

    SHOULD I BUY IT? Well priced compared to similar cars in the US, it’s deceptively usable on UK roads, being about the size of today’s large European cars
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    Car #Chevrolet-Master-Deluxe / #Chevrolet-Special-Rally-Car / #1941-Chevrolet-Master-Deluxe / #Chevrolet-Master / #Chevrolet / #GM /
    Year of manufacture #1941
    Recorded mileage 6347
    Asking price £60,000
    Vendor RPS, Witney, Oxfordshire; tel: 01993 358009; www.rps.com

    Price $715
    Max power 123bhp
    Max torque 170lb ft
    0-60mph n/a
    Top speed c85mph
    Mpg n/a

    This Chevy was prepared for rallying by RPS after it had spent some time in the Haynes International Motor Museum. It features RPS’ suspension mods – big telescopic dampers with travel-limiting straps, front anti-roll bar – and its comprehensive rewire and replumb with double fuel lines. It also has comfy Corbeau seats and harnesses, but retains the standard transmission and doesn’t run a roll-cage, though a sump guard is included.

    It’s nice and straight, with factory paint flaking in a couple of places, the doors having been resprayed. All of the bright trim is present, the grille lightly corroded and the rear wings slightly bent, and it’s a bit unfinished where the running boards have been removed, but it’s a working rally car. It also runs RPS’ lightweight vinyl-skinned bootlid, beneath which is a load of costly aluminium work. There are two spares, both unused. Incredibly, the matching Fulda commercial tyres on the car, mounted on new van wheels, have done a Peking-Paris and a Flying Scotsman yet retain plenty of tread. The motor is tidy, rebuilt before the P-P. It wears twin Daytona carbs on a Kenton manifold, plus an electric fan and lightweight high-torque starter, and has lots of extra relays on the bulkhead, plus an electric fuel pump and big filter lurking. Coolant is fullish and blue; oil topped-up but dark.

    Inside, the door trims and headlining are fine, just coming adrift about the right pillar. Fake veneer paint is tidy on the door tops, flaking on the dash, and there are extra auxiliary gauges as well as a Monit tripmeter. The 235cu in ‘six’ (3.9-litre, optional over the standard 216) fires easily and it’s a pleasant drive with lots of torque, a decent column shift and the ride well controlled by the big dampers. The speedo doesn’t work (GPS is more accurate) but the wind-up clock does. Oil pressure is just under 3bar, which is healthy for one of these, and temperature stays at the lower end of the gauge. The all-round drums have uprated friction material and pull up adequately for the performance, which is quite sprightly; great fun. It’s being sold for less than it cost to build, but to take it to the next level, with five-speed Tremec and Ford 9in rear axle, would cost c£20k.


    EXTERIOR Tidy; decent paint; all trim there
    INTERIOR What’s original is mostly good
    MECHANICALS Completely rebuilt; feels as if it would go to the moon and back

    VALUE ★★★★★★★★✩✩
    For Easy to drive; on the button
    Against Transmission is the weak item for rallies

    If you want a good basis for a longdistance rally car, built by the best, then worth a serious look – either to drive as is or feed more steroids.
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    Daniel Bevis

    1950 Studebaker Champion tuned

    Posted in Cars on Tuesday, 24 January 2017

    The Kicker Studebaker. A thoroughly retro demo car from one of the undisputed kings of American audio. With all that Kicker gear it’s as loud as it is low too! When Kicker Audio decide to build a showcase for their latest speakers, they don’t mess about. This 1950 Studebaker is testament to the passion of a bunch of enthusiasts who didn’t want to just screw some speakers into yet another minivan…

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    ART’S ART / Pontiac’s in-house artist made the cars coolly covetable / Words Giles Chapman / #Pontiac-Firebird / #Pontiac / Catalina / #Arthur-Fitzpatrick / #Art-Fitzpatrick / #Van-Kaufman / #Pontiac-Catalina-Safari / #Pontiac-Catalina /

    There’s plenty to remember about Pontiac. The GTO that fashioned the muscle car fad, or the early Firebirds taking the battle to the Ford Mustang. ‘We Build Excitement’, went the Pontiac jingle, and car buyers felt it with every advert featuring the work of Art Fitzpatrick. The crisp, clear, rich West Coast ambience, and the low, wide stance of the cars he depicted in his illustrations, subconsciously swayed millions into becoming Pontiac owners.

    Fitzpatrick died last year, aged 96, shortly after opening a major exhibition of his work at the Gilmore Museum in Michigan. Onlookers got up close to 70 originals previously seen only in National Geographic or Life magazines, and Bill Krzastek, a 64-year-old classic car collector, was in a total reverie.

    ‘It was highly influential to many a young automotive enthusiast such as myself,’ he says. Not only did he draw the cars superbly but just look at the settings he surrounded them in: beaches, surfboards, dune buggies, beautiful women. It was a fiction you could be part of if only you owned one of these fine automobiles!’

    ‘Fitz’ was only part of the story. He was the ‘car guy’ in a legendary advertising industry duo, for it was former Disney animator Van Kaufman who created the backgrounds. The two painters’ work became so intertwined that once they even composed an advert over the phone, sight unseen. ‘I did the car and it fitted on Van’s background perfectly. We were that much in tune with each other,’ Fitzpatrick recalled in a 2012 interview.

    After attending the lofty Detroit Society of Arts and Crafts in 1936, aged 18, Fitzpatrick’s working life began as an apprentice designer at Briggs Body Co. Within four years he’d styled a complete car, the 1940 Packard 180.

    By 1959 Fitzpatrick and Kaufman were contracted to General Motors’ Pontiac division. Pontiac was about to embark on a decade-long image overhaul with its ‘wide track’ styling. In truth, the cars’ dimensions differed little from the Detroit norm, but Fitzpatrick’s renditions put clever emphasis on their width, shallow height and tapering length so that, to the public, Pontiacs were just a touch slicker than rivals. His work was key to changing perceptions.
    While other advertising campaigns shifted to photography, Pontiac stuck with illustration, exploiting Fitz’s subtle exaggerations and Van’s imaginative, aspirational settings. Pontiac general manager John De Lorean was so alert to their power that he personally banned all photos from the marque’s advertising.

    ‘A picture of a car moving doesn’t mean a thing,’ Fitzpatrick declared in a 2007 Motor Trend interview. ‘They all move. You have to convey something about the car psychologically. ‘The Pontiac front end was the greatest thing they ever did. It was so different and distinctive.

    It allowed me to push the visual to the limits, making seven-eighth front views instead of seven-eighth side views, the old standard. That enlarged the image of the car to 60% of the page.’ The side view had only taken 15%.

    The campaign lasted until 1972. After 285 images it had run out of finely air-brushed road. Legislation to ensure ‘truth in advertising’ was closing in. And wide though Pontiacs of the era were, Fitz had made them appear wider still. The pair then had a stint working their craft for Opel, so we Europeans could enjoy Fitz’s style too. Later on, Fitzpatrick interrupted his retirement (Kaufman passed away in 1995) to produce two sets of commemorative postage stamps for the US Mail in 2005 and 2008, featuring 1950s American classics. He was also a revered consultant to Pixar’s worldwide animated hit movie Cars.

    In that 2012 interview, 94-year old Fitz laughed when he recalled that photographers told him they’d tried to copy his style. ‘In 1968, our ads were the only art in magazines for automobile advertising. Every other campaign was done in photography.’

    He had plenty of favourites. One featured a green ’1969 GTO convertible near a cove, with a just-emerged masked diver. Another showed a Catalina in the moonlight, with a couple enjoying themselves out on a raft. ‘At the time, you couldn’t find a Pontiac in a yacht club or golf club parking lot anywhere. Just a year later, you could find them everywhere. That was the point.’

    Left and below. You could ache for a Firebird that looks like this, imagining après-ski powerslides in the snow; poolside Catalina wagon looks even longer, wider and lower than the real one. #1971 / #1959
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    Rodders line up outside the wonderfully preserved Horsted Keynes railway station, where full use was made of the coal fire.

    Rad cowl shows traces of filled cap hole.
    Panels removed to provide access to fan.
    Resisting the urge for an impromptu race at Dungeness.
    Brake woes are now sorted.

    / #Ford-Roadster / #Ford / #1932
    Run by Julian Balme
    Owned since May 2014
    Total mileage unknown
    Miles since March
    2015 report 612
    Latest costs nil.


    The last time that I wrote about the ’1932, I had just taken part in the VSCC’s Pomeroy Trophy. That marked the start of an eventful year with the car, particularly during the months that are optimistically regarded as British summertime.

    Maintenance was kept to a bare minimum but I did replace the electric fan. The task was more involved than with a normal car, but far more rewarding because of the Ford’s simple construction – and the fact that I found a replacement unit sitting on a shelf in the garage, already paid for. There are not many vehicles that require half the front sheet-metal removing in order to access the rear of the rad, though. I was tickled during the process to find the original grille shell – a rare and prized item – had been filled where the radiator cap had been. A textbook example of the customiser’s art.

    When turned into a hot rod, the roadster was built with long trips, comfort and economy in mind rather than outright speed. As a result, it makes all the wrong noises but is more than content to visit Sainsbury’s – as it has on occasion.

    I mentioned in my first report on the Ford that it was very much a bereavement purchase and subsequently, as a way of acknowledging my wife Karen’s passing, I’ve found myself organising an annual reliability run for the closest of chums.

    Last year we spent a weekend in the Cotswolds visiting places of automotive and cultural interest, ranging from Tim Dutton’s Bugatti haven to the Compton Verney art gallery.

    This year, we headed off to the south coast and rented a beach house in Winchelsea. From there, we undertook a similarly scenic and even greater culinary loop of the East Sussex countryside. Our ‘ultimate man-cave’ was CKL, just outside Battle, where Ben Shuckburgh kindly gave up his Saturday morning to show us some of the amazing kit being worked on and stored there. The seductive array of Jaguars went down well but it was a race-prepped Allard J2 that got the greatest scrutiny from the rodders, to whom the combination of Cadillac speed equipment and ’40s Ford components was all too familiar.

    By sticking to back roads, we managed to avoid the traffic, our convoy being greeted surprisingly enthusiastically by the occasional dog walker or horse rider along the way. Ironically, one of the only cars we encountered on the country lanes was driven by E-type guru Henry Pearman of Eagle GB.

    The route took us up to Horsted Keynes station on the Bluebell Railway, where we were warmly welcomedby the volunteers running the heritage steam line, although the waiting-room coal fire was even more popular with us. By the time that we returned to the coast, we had chalked up about 80 stress-free miles with no major issues. The other four cars making up the run would all be heading off to Pendine for the Vintage Hot Rod Association’s annual blast six weeks later, so for them it was a welcome shakedown. As for me, I was trying to find out why I had an increasingly spongy brake pedal.

    Confidence in the ability to stop being far from overrated in a car with automatic transmission, my mate Steve and I hastily bled the system before heading out the next morning. The result was a much firmer pedal and it started to deteriorate only after our Sunday visit to Dungeness and during the slog back to London.

    Closer inspection in the comfort of my own garage revealed that the nearside front flexible hose was not only twisted where it met the caliper, but was also rubbing on one of the trailing arms. On taking the braided pipe off, I had to remove a small L-shaped steel line attached to it as well as a union mounted to the chassis. At first I thought that in my usual hamfisted way I had snapped the pipe but, as I looked closer, I couldn’t find any traces of a flared end. The pipe had been interference fitted into the union adjoining the flexible line!

    Colin Mullan made me a new copper line and a trip to Think Automotive, which is just around the corner from him, provided two new flexible pipes for both sides of the front end. I’ve yet to find time to fit them, but once done summer might finally have arrived.
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