Every car has a story, and this one, boy what a story.
It all starts when I was closing the deal on some parts with an old friend, including an A-body rear end I needed. I closed the deal, but I had to come back with a truck to haul the housing. As we shook hands my friend said "you wouldn't know anyone that would want to buy my racecar, would ya?"
"Tell me more," I said.
67 big block Dart, I found out, with a lot of great parts and even better, put together in a good combination by a guy who knew his mopars. He regaled me with accounts of what had gone into the motor and the car and how he had won so many street races with it.
It had long been at the back of my mind to find a vintage racecar and get involved at track days - I'm less than five miles from a major track which does NASCAR as well as local drag stuff. I'm not a racer, but I've always admired the spirit that exists around the best racers. At the same time, I knew the huge amount of trial and error work, breaking stuff and fixing it better that goes into real racing was beyond me for now. Much better, I thought, to start with a car built by someone who knew what they were doing, and learn from that.
That night when I got home I had a lot of thinking to do. I'm an early A-body freak, I have plenty of project cars already. When I showed up to haul the parts home, of course the racecar was much on my mind. I really needed to take a critical look, and be ready to say no.
"Can we look at your 67?" I asked.
"The Dart? Sure."
It was a BB-1 bright blue 67 Dart GT, and he went into details about how he'd built the motor and how great the car was to drive. He'd been a major player in his local street racing scene back in the day, and his beloved Dart was built to be the perfect cruiser-bruiser.
Except clearly, as I looked under the hood, it was a smallblock car. The story didn't line up. I had to listen to my gut - this deal was falling apart fast.
"273?"
"Yep! I was running 13 seconds with it before I blew up the 904!"
What? 13 seconds with a 273? And hold on, the car's transmission is blown? I had to face facts - I have my own 273 Darts that I love and I really need to focus my efforts on them, and not be distracted by another one that wasn't all together. My friend was going on about the good old days and the great times he'd had cruising in his 67 GT. I could tell he really loved the car, and I had respect for that too.
"And you're selling it? Sounds like you have all this important history with the car," I said.
"Oh no," he replied. "I could never sell it. I love this car, it's my baby."
OK.... I'm thinking. Say what?
"No, the car I'm selling is the racecar!" he said, pointing to the corner of the yard.
There behind some stuff was ANOTHER 67 Dart GT, also BB-1, but this one with a pro stock hood scoop and fat drag radials. As we uncovered the car, my heart was racing. This was it. A genuine vintage racecar built by a mopar guy who won races with it using good old-fashioned mopar technology until it was parked 20 years ago.
It all starts when I was closing the deal on some parts with an old friend, including an A-body rear end I needed. I closed the deal, but I had to come back with a truck to haul the housing. As we shook hands my friend said "you wouldn't know anyone that would want to buy my racecar, would ya?"
"Tell me more," I said.
67 big block Dart, I found out, with a lot of great parts and even better, put together in a good combination by a guy who knew his mopars. He regaled me with accounts of what had gone into the motor and the car and how he had won so many street races with it.
It had long been at the back of my mind to find a vintage racecar and get involved at track days - I'm less than five miles from a major track which does NASCAR as well as local drag stuff. I'm not a racer, but I've always admired the spirit that exists around the best racers. At the same time, I knew the huge amount of trial and error work, breaking stuff and fixing it better that goes into real racing was beyond me for now. Much better, I thought, to start with a car built by someone who knew what they were doing, and learn from that.
That night when I got home I had a lot of thinking to do. I'm an early A-body freak, I have plenty of project cars already. When I showed up to haul the parts home, of course the racecar was much on my mind. I really needed to take a critical look, and be ready to say no.
"Can we look at your 67?" I asked.
"The Dart? Sure."
It was a BB-1 bright blue 67 Dart GT, and he went into details about how he'd built the motor and how great the car was to drive. He'd been a major player in his local street racing scene back in the day, and his beloved Dart was built to be the perfect cruiser-bruiser.
Except clearly, as I looked under the hood, it was a smallblock car. The story didn't line up. I had to listen to my gut - this deal was falling apart fast.
"273?"
"Yep! I was running 13 seconds with it before I blew up the 904!"
What? 13 seconds with a 273? And hold on, the car's transmission is blown? I had to face facts - I have my own 273 Darts that I love and I really need to focus my efforts on them, and not be distracted by another one that wasn't all together. My friend was going on about the good old days and the great times he'd had cruising in his 67 GT. I could tell he really loved the car, and I had respect for that too.
"And you're selling it? Sounds like you have all this important history with the car," I said.
"Oh no," he replied. "I could never sell it. I love this car, it's my baby."
OK.... I'm thinking. Say what?
"No, the car I'm selling is the racecar!" he said, pointing to the corner of the yard.
There behind some stuff was ANOTHER 67 Dart GT, also BB-1, but this one with a pro stock hood scoop and fat drag radials. As we uncovered the car, my heart was racing. This was it. A genuine vintage racecar built by a mopar guy who won races with it using good old-fashioned mopar technology until it was parked 20 years ago.
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