tl;dr;
Ghosts of A-Bodies past: '71 Scamp, '70 Duster, '66 Barracuda, '70 Swinger, '70s Duster circle track car, Possible new purchase.
As far as I can actually remember, my A-Body journey starts in 1981 when I was about 12. My sister was 14 and was asking for her first car. My dad went to a car auction and bought a ’71 Plymouth Scamp. It was brown with a tan interior, it had a V-8 and a 3-speed. For a 10-year-old car it was pretty ragged out with rust already and my sister wanted nothing to do with “that ugly car!”
It became my mom’s main driver I remember being impressed that she could “race” everybody off the line at a stop light. I also remember those vent doors being full of dust and leaves when you first opened them on a hot day in the summer. We got rid of it before I got to drive it legally but I would drive it around the farm and county roads. I thought it was the best car ever.
Next up was a General Lee Orange Plymouth Duster I think it was a ’70 or ’71. It was another auction car or trade-in. It was the first car that I repaired and painted. I was 14 and learning how to do body work and paint. The left front fender was crushed from the side at the front pretty badly. Should have been replaced but my dad agreed to let me “try” and fix it. Lots of banging and bondo later I was able to do my first paint job. It looked…better.
That Duster was my first legal driver too. It wasn’t “my car” but I was pretty much the only one who drove it. My actual first car was a Silver 1979 AMC Spirit that I bought from an insurance company. It was a front end total, I bought another parts car that had an interior fire and two became one. But back to the A-Bodies.
The next interaction was with a 1966 Barracuda. This was around 1986, my dad had remarried and the youngest step-brother had this non-running Barracuda, the body was straight and not much rust but looked bad, it was black and primer and oxidized black. The red interior was in great shape. We would tinker around with it trying to get it going. We put a used rear end in it, put brakes on it, changed pretty much every freeze plug at least once, and did a tune-up. He never got it titled so we mostly drove it around the square mile on county roads with that big old back glass as a viewport.
Finally. Fast forward to 1988. I was working in town at a body shop and used car lot. The body shop was attached to a separate salvage yard. The back windows of the shop looked directly into the yard itself. Great for seeing the new arrivals.
One Monday, I looked out the window and saw this crazy looking Dodge Dart Swinger. Nearly perfect interior, Green paint, green oxidized vinyl top, rusted out quarters and rockers, a smushed right fender, and the best thing: sagging leaf springs and over-torqued torsion bars. It looked like it was in mid-wheelie. I was intrigued.
At break I went over to ask about it. They said it just came in “from a little old lady” the brakes were shot but it ran. Of course it ran, it had a 225 slant-six. I asked if it was for sale. They said they had paid $50 for it and I could have it for $125. Oh the good old days before everybody wanted one of these. I had $75 to my name. I gave it to them and said I’d have the rest on Friday. Deal.
I went right to work. Every break that week I would go work on the Dart. Mechanically I saw that the wheel cylinders were shot in the rear, $15 in kits fixed the brakes. I put lube on the torsion bolts and cranked it down. I had a Low-rider Swinger.
Also throughout that week I was knocking rust off and naval jellying the crap out of what was left. Finally I foam filled it and shaved off the excess. I was ready to drive it home.
I went right back to work, working out the dent and the “rust repair” areas with wild abandon. Alum-a-lead and bondo were the first order of business. Making quick work of those areas it was ready to prep for paint. This meant sanding the primer and an old quick trick red scuff pad and comet. This was summer so the heat quickly dries out the water used to “sand” the car. Even the old vinyl top got prepped for top coat.
I had no intention of this being a show car. You may have gathered this by now. I had stock paint that I would mix till I had an acceptable color. I ended up with something near a smoky teal on the green side. Plus I mixed up some charcoal paint for accents. I had never painted scallops before, but here goes nothing. I had a vague recollection of the Super Bee trunk stripe but didn’t even know at that time that Darts had them too. I messed it up though/made it unique. My quarter panel portion angled backwards. I painted the vinyl top bright silver with some vinyl top coat. The only paint I bought specifically for this job.
This was the time we were still spraying lacquer basecoats and polyurethane clears were the new thing. So that’s what the dart got. I had it painted by Sunday afternoon. By Monday morning it was ready for its public debut.
When I rolled into work the next morning, everybody was properly impressed. The salvage yard at first refused to believe it was the same car. My fellow Mopar enthusiast at work deemed it Dart’N’Low due to its sagging springs and lowered torsions. The name stuck. I eventually got the vanity plate DARTNLO.
This was definitely a “looks great from 20 feet car” No job this extensive completed in two days looks great up close. Still I turned down offers of $1000 almost every week for the first 6 months. Again this was in the day when these were still readily available if you would just take them out of people’s barns. I knew I didn’t want to sell her. I was smitten with this car. I didn’t know why at first. More on that later.
This was my daily driver, I was young and stupid. I wanted V8 power and tried for over a year to blow up that slant six. I was buying used rear tires from the salvage yard about once a month. The rear brakes were still pretty soft and power braking was easy.
Finally I found a ’75 Plymouth Gran Fury Wagon for free if I would tow it out of their backyard. I verified that the 360 still ran and actually ended up driving it home 15 miles with no tag, the whole time mice were abandoning ship.
I had been driving that slant six for about 2 years when I got around to putting that engine in it. New exhaust, new carb, new intake, some headers, new u-joints, and finally some nice new tires! It was so good. My only ticket ever in my hometown was in this car. Drag racing. It was the beginning of the end.
It was 1990 and my stupid A-body addiction finally got me in trouble. I spotted a dirt track duster for sale. It was pretty much ready to roll. It needed some additions to the roll cage, but that was it. It was $500, I got it for $400. It had a slant six, it actually had too short of a wheel base to race in the base stock car class – “Thumper” but nobody cared. Because it was a duster, with a slant six, racing full frame cars with 350s and 396s.
I finished every race, usually lapped by everybody that finished but I was getting points! I don’t know if it was much of an advantage but the one thing I could do that they couldn’t was pre-bank my front end. You know “go fast turn left” So I had the left front jacked up and the right front a little softer than normal. It looked weird parked but in the turns it looked great. This was a ½ mile track so I don’t think I ever got going any faster than 50 mph but it was fun sliding into the turns.
The final race I finished with the slant six went something like this. Finished my heat, came in with a radiator leak. I took needle nose pliers and pinched the coils then dumped about 55 pepper packets from concession into the radiator. It seemed to be holding.
During the feature after the 5th lap I knew it was leaking, first from the steam then the temp gauge climbing. It was hot. But this was a slant six, it’ll make it. The last lap I could hear knocking over the exhaust. I limped in and finished ahead of a Monte Carlo that must have been running on two cylinders. My team ran over to me at the water spigot and started trying to cool it of slowly while I kept it running somehow. About 45 second in though … BANG! A connecting rod knocked a softball size hole out of the block. This slant six was done.
I had a choice to make. I made the wrong choice. First a diversion.
I had begun giving the Dart a proper restoration. I had stripped her down, interior, engine and all to fix some rusty areas. I found the build sheet. This car rolled off the assembly line on February 5, 1969. Guess what my birth date is. Yep. This car was my freaking twin.
Ok, so I had a choice to make. I had a race car that needed an engine, I had two engines sitting out, the Dart’s original slant six and the 360 that I had just taken out of the Dart. Greed and pride got the better of me. I wanted to surprise everybody with a new and improved Duster on the track. In goes the 360.
It was a quick turnaround. I didn’t get the power steering hooked up. That is not optimal. Also I wasn’t ready for how much faster this car was than the dart. I even stole the tires from the Dart. But I would guess a gutted Duster weighs about 600 pounds less than a stock dart.
Race night I kept the hood on. Not letting on what was going on under the hood. Obviously when I started it up everyone knew something was different. I took second in my heat. I probably could have taken first but steering was stupid. So much play, like almost a ¼ turn. I even scraped the wall once trying to pass a car on the right in the straightaway.
In the feature I was doing really great. I was about to lap my first car ever. Someone was passing me on the right, and I was behind the lapped car. The other guy passing tapped his bumper as he passed him and he started sliding sideways. I let off the gas to see where he was going. When it looked like he was stopping I floored it and turned to his left. Right then he also hit the gas and went right where I was going. With non-nimble steering I couldn’t avoid him. Crumpled right front, the radiator was leaking and the battery was hanging on by cables out the front of the grille. My first tow into the pit was forthcoming.
Racing career – over.
Switching gears
I had an old knee injury that was beginning to bother me doing body work. I would be walking and it would lock up and I would fall. I was 21 and decided to have surgery and go back to school. I left for school with my racecar and dart safely at my dad’s house. Hmmmm.
About my Junior year, my dad calls and says he’s moving and will have nowhere to store my cars anymore. Sad face. I also had no room to store them. I was a broke college kid with a 2 year old. My dad said he had someone interested in both cars. In their state they were pretty worthless. A wrecked duster circle track car with new tires and rallies, a basket case dart with and aged poor restoration. They were offering $400 for both. That was like $4000 dollars to me today. I took it sadly. Goodbye twin. Goodbye Dartnlo.
So fast forward 25 year later. I’ve told this story to anybody that would listen. I’m still a cheapskate. The A-body market has become much inflated since then. I’ve been looking for the perfect opportunity for at least the last 15 years. I missed a few good ones because I had my heart set on another 1970.
I got divorced about 3 years ago and started looking in earnest. My alimony payments end in about a year so I really can’t afford to start anything right now so my budget is even smaller. I was doing my monthly internet search and found a less than optimal candidate, but the price is right. It’s a driver, with a slant six, and all the rust you could ever want. It’s about 700 miles away but only 2 hours from where a buddy of mine lives. I’m hoping I can get the deal done today.
I’m back baby!
***edit***
The guy wouldn't give me a VIN or any more photos and wouldn't take a check or money order. I had to bail. I understand people have been scammed. BUt I'm 700 miles away. I was more likely to get scammed than he was.
***end of edit.***
By the way, I'm a software developer, a chef, a professional ukuleleist, and a group fitness instructor.
Ghosts of A-Bodies past: '71 Scamp, '70 Duster, '66 Barracuda, '70 Swinger, '70s Duster circle track car, Possible new purchase.
As far as I can actually remember, my A-Body journey starts in 1981 when I was about 12. My sister was 14 and was asking for her first car. My dad went to a car auction and bought a ’71 Plymouth Scamp. It was brown with a tan interior, it had a V-8 and a 3-speed. For a 10-year-old car it was pretty ragged out with rust already and my sister wanted nothing to do with “that ugly car!”
It became my mom’s main driver I remember being impressed that she could “race” everybody off the line at a stop light. I also remember those vent doors being full of dust and leaves when you first opened them on a hot day in the summer. We got rid of it before I got to drive it legally but I would drive it around the farm and county roads. I thought it was the best car ever.
Next up was a General Lee Orange Plymouth Duster I think it was a ’70 or ’71. It was another auction car or trade-in. It was the first car that I repaired and painted. I was 14 and learning how to do body work and paint. The left front fender was crushed from the side at the front pretty badly. Should have been replaced but my dad agreed to let me “try” and fix it. Lots of banging and bondo later I was able to do my first paint job. It looked…better.
That Duster was my first legal driver too. It wasn’t “my car” but I was pretty much the only one who drove it. My actual first car was a Silver 1979 AMC Spirit that I bought from an insurance company. It was a front end total, I bought another parts car that had an interior fire and two became one. But back to the A-Bodies.
The next interaction was with a 1966 Barracuda. This was around 1986, my dad had remarried and the youngest step-brother had this non-running Barracuda, the body was straight and not much rust but looked bad, it was black and primer and oxidized black. The red interior was in great shape. We would tinker around with it trying to get it going. We put a used rear end in it, put brakes on it, changed pretty much every freeze plug at least once, and did a tune-up. He never got it titled so we mostly drove it around the square mile on county roads with that big old back glass as a viewport.
Finally. Fast forward to 1988. I was working in town at a body shop and used car lot. The body shop was attached to a separate salvage yard. The back windows of the shop looked directly into the yard itself. Great for seeing the new arrivals.
One Monday, I looked out the window and saw this crazy looking Dodge Dart Swinger. Nearly perfect interior, Green paint, green oxidized vinyl top, rusted out quarters and rockers, a smushed right fender, and the best thing: sagging leaf springs and over-torqued torsion bars. It looked like it was in mid-wheelie. I was intrigued.
At break I went over to ask about it. They said it just came in “from a little old lady” the brakes were shot but it ran. Of course it ran, it had a 225 slant-six. I asked if it was for sale. They said they had paid $50 for it and I could have it for $125. Oh the good old days before everybody wanted one of these. I had $75 to my name. I gave it to them and said I’d have the rest on Friday. Deal.
I went right to work. Every break that week I would go work on the Dart. Mechanically I saw that the wheel cylinders were shot in the rear, $15 in kits fixed the brakes. I put lube on the torsion bolts and cranked it down. I had a Low-rider Swinger.
Also throughout that week I was knocking rust off and naval jellying the crap out of what was left. Finally I foam filled it and shaved off the excess. I was ready to drive it home.
I went right back to work, working out the dent and the “rust repair” areas with wild abandon. Alum-a-lead and bondo were the first order of business. Making quick work of those areas it was ready to prep for paint. This meant sanding the primer and an old quick trick red scuff pad and comet. This was summer so the heat quickly dries out the water used to “sand” the car. Even the old vinyl top got prepped for top coat.
I had no intention of this being a show car. You may have gathered this by now. I had stock paint that I would mix till I had an acceptable color. I ended up with something near a smoky teal on the green side. Plus I mixed up some charcoal paint for accents. I had never painted scallops before, but here goes nothing. I had a vague recollection of the Super Bee trunk stripe but didn’t even know at that time that Darts had them too. I messed it up though/made it unique. My quarter panel portion angled backwards. I painted the vinyl top bright silver with some vinyl top coat. The only paint I bought specifically for this job.
This was the time we were still spraying lacquer basecoats and polyurethane clears were the new thing. So that’s what the dart got. I had it painted by Sunday afternoon. By Monday morning it was ready for its public debut.
When I rolled into work the next morning, everybody was properly impressed. The salvage yard at first refused to believe it was the same car. My fellow Mopar enthusiast at work deemed it Dart’N’Low due to its sagging springs and lowered torsions. The name stuck. I eventually got the vanity plate DARTNLO.
This was definitely a “looks great from 20 feet car” No job this extensive completed in two days looks great up close. Still I turned down offers of $1000 almost every week for the first 6 months. Again this was in the day when these were still readily available if you would just take them out of people’s barns. I knew I didn’t want to sell her. I was smitten with this car. I didn’t know why at first. More on that later.
This was my daily driver, I was young and stupid. I wanted V8 power and tried for over a year to blow up that slant six. I was buying used rear tires from the salvage yard about once a month. The rear brakes were still pretty soft and power braking was easy.
Finally I found a ’75 Plymouth Gran Fury Wagon for free if I would tow it out of their backyard. I verified that the 360 still ran and actually ended up driving it home 15 miles with no tag, the whole time mice were abandoning ship.
I had been driving that slant six for about 2 years when I got around to putting that engine in it. New exhaust, new carb, new intake, some headers, new u-joints, and finally some nice new tires! It was so good. My only ticket ever in my hometown was in this car. Drag racing. It was the beginning of the end.
It was 1990 and my stupid A-body addiction finally got me in trouble. I spotted a dirt track duster for sale. It was pretty much ready to roll. It needed some additions to the roll cage, but that was it. It was $500, I got it for $400. It had a slant six, it actually had too short of a wheel base to race in the base stock car class – “Thumper” but nobody cared. Because it was a duster, with a slant six, racing full frame cars with 350s and 396s.
I finished every race, usually lapped by everybody that finished but I was getting points! I don’t know if it was much of an advantage but the one thing I could do that they couldn’t was pre-bank my front end. You know “go fast turn left” So I had the left front jacked up and the right front a little softer than normal. It looked weird parked but in the turns it looked great. This was a ½ mile track so I don’t think I ever got going any faster than 50 mph but it was fun sliding into the turns.
The final race I finished with the slant six went something like this. Finished my heat, came in with a radiator leak. I took needle nose pliers and pinched the coils then dumped about 55 pepper packets from concession into the radiator. It seemed to be holding.
During the feature after the 5th lap I knew it was leaking, first from the steam then the temp gauge climbing. It was hot. But this was a slant six, it’ll make it. The last lap I could hear knocking over the exhaust. I limped in and finished ahead of a Monte Carlo that must have been running on two cylinders. My team ran over to me at the water spigot and started trying to cool it of slowly while I kept it running somehow. About 45 second in though … BANG! A connecting rod knocked a softball size hole out of the block. This slant six was done.
I had a choice to make. I made the wrong choice. First a diversion.
I had begun giving the Dart a proper restoration. I had stripped her down, interior, engine and all to fix some rusty areas. I found the build sheet. This car rolled off the assembly line on February 5, 1969. Guess what my birth date is. Yep. This car was my freaking twin.
Ok, so I had a choice to make. I had a race car that needed an engine, I had two engines sitting out, the Dart’s original slant six and the 360 that I had just taken out of the Dart. Greed and pride got the better of me. I wanted to surprise everybody with a new and improved Duster on the track. In goes the 360.
It was a quick turnaround. I didn’t get the power steering hooked up. That is not optimal. Also I wasn’t ready for how much faster this car was than the dart. I even stole the tires from the Dart. But I would guess a gutted Duster weighs about 600 pounds less than a stock dart.
Race night I kept the hood on. Not letting on what was going on under the hood. Obviously when I started it up everyone knew something was different. I took second in my heat. I probably could have taken first but steering was stupid. So much play, like almost a ¼ turn. I even scraped the wall once trying to pass a car on the right in the straightaway.
In the feature I was doing really great. I was about to lap my first car ever. Someone was passing me on the right, and I was behind the lapped car. The other guy passing tapped his bumper as he passed him and he started sliding sideways. I let off the gas to see where he was going. When it looked like he was stopping I floored it and turned to his left. Right then he also hit the gas and went right where I was going. With non-nimble steering I couldn’t avoid him. Crumpled right front, the radiator was leaking and the battery was hanging on by cables out the front of the grille. My first tow into the pit was forthcoming.
Racing career – over.
Switching gears
I had an old knee injury that was beginning to bother me doing body work. I would be walking and it would lock up and I would fall. I was 21 and decided to have surgery and go back to school. I left for school with my racecar and dart safely at my dad’s house. Hmmmm.
About my Junior year, my dad calls and says he’s moving and will have nowhere to store my cars anymore. Sad face. I also had no room to store them. I was a broke college kid with a 2 year old. My dad said he had someone interested in both cars. In their state they were pretty worthless. A wrecked duster circle track car with new tires and rallies, a basket case dart with and aged poor restoration. They were offering $400 for both. That was like $4000 dollars to me today. I took it sadly. Goodbye twin. Goodbye Dartnlo.
So fast forward 25 year later. I’ve told this story to anybody that would listen. I’m still a cheapskate. The A-body market has become much inflated since then. I’ve been looking for the perfect opportunity for at least the last 15 years. I missed a few good ones because I had my heart set on another 1970.
I got divorced about 3 years ago and started looking in earnest. My alimony payments end in about a year so I really can’t afford to start anything right now so my budget is even smaller. I was doing my monthly internet search and found a less than optimal candidate, but the price is right. It’s a driver, with a slant six, and all the rust you could ever want. It’s about 700 miles away but only 2 hours from where a buddy of mine lives. I’m hoping I can get the deal done today.
***edit***
The guy wouldn't give me a VIN or any more photos and wouldn't take a check or money order. I had to bail. I understand people have been scammed. BUt I'm 700 miles away. I was more likely to get scammed than he was.
***end of edit.***
By the way, I'm a software developer, a chef, a professional ukuleleist, and a group fitness instructor.
Last edited:
Thanks!
