mod@tech

Auto racing may improve the breed, and it’s also one of the three sports Papa Hemingway considers worth anybody’s time. Whatever his specific reasons for admiring it, motorsport has a way of creating legends not just of man but also of machine, leaving behind both tales for the record books and snorting, roaring, speeding artifacts. Those artifacts may display ingenuity of design and engineering but they also demand regular spirited exercise and will without hesitation wad your flesh into a ball if you think for one moment that time has defanged the beast.

All that preamble just to say we’re watching some race car videos this hurricane-y weekend. Not race cars in period, rather race cars as they exist today: cherished, studied, preserved, and potent. So let’s start with a recent video showcasing a one-off prototype for a Volkswagen rally car that recently emerged from obscurity to take some laps at Lime Rock Park.

The Legendary Golf That Never Was – Experiencing the VW A59

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Ernie Nagamatsu holds court in this video discussing the history of the unrestored Old Yeller II Buick Special.

Old Yeller II Interview at Chantilly

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As opposed to the Old Yeller video, this one following a Ford GT40 through several minutes of this year’s Spa Six Hours features zero dialog. Unless, that is, you consider the wail of the V-8 a full lecture.

Onboard: GT40 Racing SPA 6 HOURS – Highlights – HQ BRUTAL V8 Sound

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I’ve talked about the weird things I want to do to some newer-vintage Cadillacs in the past, and I’ve also mentioned here that our family’s daily driver is a 1983 Cadillac Sedan Deville purchased new by my wife’s grandfather. It’s a really great car and I’m coming to like it a lot just as it sits. That said, I could envision giving into my tinkerer side with any number of Ford Panther or GM B-body cars from the 1980s—the Cadillac included.

Because I can’t lavish all that attention on ours (for both financial and sentimental reasons), I can at least use this 1986 Cadillac Brougham in our classifieds as a basis for outlining how I think someone really ought to build one.

Frame, Steering, Front Suspension and Brakes

The 1987 Cadillac Brougham isn’t technically a B-body. It’s a D-body, which is nearly the same thing but longer. Before 1985, this same platform was called C-body, but then General Motors decided it needed the C-body designation for one of its new front drivers, but couldn’t retire the actual C-body cars, so it resurrected the old D-body name for them.

It’s a great system, all designed for the 1977 model year and a well-engineered combination of handling, comfort, ease of operation, and safety. I’d be tempted to play with stiffer shocks, and perhaps a thicker roll bar (Chevrolet Caprice 9C1 pieces, perhaps) because I prefer a bit more handling at the expense of some luxury, but I could be equally happy with things simply as-intended.

The brakes, a typical front-disc/rear-drum setup with power assist, work especially well right out of the box and would have plenty of margin for more power.

Overall, the chassis needs nothing except a thorough inspection to ensure that everything is in spec and fastened securely. It’s one of the outstanding features of the car.

Wheels and Tires

Typically, this ’87 wears whitewall radials and steel wheels with wheel covers—in this case wire-spoke wheel covers. That’s fine and appropriate, but I find myself called in a slightly different direction.

I’ve really gotten to enjoy the look of black-wall snow tires on our ’83 Cadillac. Those tires seem to lend a dignified, ’40s air to it. While changing out the whitewalls for snows, I also made two discoveries. First, I discovered the wheels are equipped with hubcap nubs to fit a standard 10.5-inch hubcap. Second, the brake dust also made the black steel wheels look body color, making me think that this car would look good with the wheels exposed and also sprayed Light Chestnut Metallic.

I found myself wondering how the Cadillac might look with dog dishes. Then I further discovered that some Pontiacs in the ’70s came with blank hubcaps that otherwise have a much more appropriate shape for the Cadillac body than a regular baby moon. I figure if GM itself condoned un-marked hubcaps, they’d be perfect in the absence of ‘caps bearing an actual Cadillac crest.

Engine, Transmission and Rear Axle

The factory engine from 1986 to 1990 was a 5.0L V-8, known to most enthusiasts as the “Oldsmobile 307” after the division that designed it and its displacement in cubic inches. It’s interchangeable with other low-deck Olds V-8s, including 350- and 403-cu.in. versions, but given that the ubiquitous LS swap has already reached the GM B-bodies, it seems ridiculous not to use the hardware that already exists to use the newer engine and all the hardware that has developed around it.

If this were our Cadillac, which has the 4.1-liter High Technology engine, I’d be tempted to go no further than the 4.8L LS that was installed in countless half-ton pickups and barely rates a glance from power addicts hunting for 6.0L engines. But because this was already a 5.0L car, it seems more fitting that the 5.3L used in heavier pickups and SUVs be installed here along with its associated 4L60E four-speed automatic.

The biggest challenges would be a matter of packaging: You can’t build a Cadillac and not have air conditioning, power steering, and power brakes all on board. Also, I’m unclear if the stock intake setup from a pickup truck will fit under the hood or if something from an F-body, a Corvette, or the aftermarket would be required to keep everything looking externally stock.

The rear axle is the strong GM 10-bolt. It should hold up just fine behind a mild LS and an automatic with stock-sized tires. If you really had to mess with it, you could consider adding a limited-slip differential.

Body and Paint

Part of the appeal of a car like this is that it’s basically ready to go anywhere on a moment’s notice. The cold-weather instant starts of computerized ignition and fuel management are for naught if you’re afraid to go out in the snow. I love the Light Chestnut Metallic color scheme on this one and I wouldn’t change it, but ’80s factory paint has a deservedly bad reputation, so if it’s showing any signs of decay I’d go for a refinish in the latest materials along with having the whole thing coated internally with a product like Ziebart.

Controls and Instruments

Perhaps my biggest complaint about the Cadillac is the lack of instrumentation. The only gauges are for speed and fuel. Everything else is a warning light. Surely there’s a set of appropriately 1980s (yet analog—is that too much to ask?) gauges out there that can help me keep an eye on things like oil pressure, battery condition, and coolant temperature. I’d love to have a tachometer, too, though space to mount any of these gauges appropriately is at a premium. If I were crafty with a 3D printer and computer-aided drafting, I might try to make an A-pillar pod to mount them.

Interior

Personally, aside from my gripes about instrumentation, I like everything about the inside of the Cadillac. My wife, however, finds the passenger seat uncomfortable over long drives. Perhaps something with better ergonomics could be sourced from the aftermarket or a later-model car and re-covered to match the rest. I’ll bet somebody, maybe SMS Fabrics, is holding some NOS Cadillac tan velour material from this era.

Conclusion

Cadillac never truly married its traditional luxury sedan with its more recent focus on high performance. That doesn’t mean we can’t. The parts are all there.

How do you like your Cadillac Broughams?

1. To celebrate this weekend’s Japanese round of the World Rally Championship, which returns after missing the last two years, the Toyota Automobile Museum will re-run its exhibition from last year focusing on Japanese carmakers’ efforts in WRC.

Through a collaboration between seven Japanese car manufacturers who have participated in the WRC, many rally cars of historical importance have been brought together for this exhibition. These vehicles, in combination with large manga background panels, generate a powerful 2.5D presentation. Visitors can sense the immediacy of the heated rally while appreciating the history of the WRC.

Photo by Anthony J. Bristol

2. The International Motor Racing Research Center recently profiled Don Cox, chief engineer for Peske’s race efforts at Trans-Am and at Indy.

When Cox arrived on the scene from Chevrolet Development he immediately started on a new suspension for the Javelin, which was bottoming out, running on bump stops virtually all of the time on track. Cox designed the entire rear end, which included the housing, axles, full-floating hubs, spool, linkage to locate the rear, and brakes. Cox pointed out to Penske the advantage of Girling disc brakes with Lincoln rotors.

As for the engine, Penske needed to develop special AMC engine components as the 290 CID was down 100 horsepower to the competition. Team Penske looked to Traco in California for all the engines for the 1970 season. Regulation limited engine size to 305 CID. Traco managed to shrink a 360 to regulation by destroking, while still making over 400 horsepower comparable to Chevrolet. But then there developed a litany of blown engines on the track caused by oil starvation due to G-forces when braking. Team Penske devised a dual-pickup oil pump with the secondary pickup scavenging oil from the uphill side of the pan, where it was accumulating during hard braking. Then, Cox had to address the strain of the dual-pickup pump which was wearing out the drive gears on the cam, affecting the distributor running off of the same gears, which was throwing off timing as the cars got further into a race. Cox found a solution by drilling new oil passages to feed oil to the gears.

3. The Jalopy Journal’s Jive-Bomber recently took possession of a number of streamlined renderings done up by a French company in the Thirties. The difference with these is that the company was using them to sell automotive paints, so they could be as fanciful and imaginative as possible. (via)

I learned upon further research that the René Villemer automotive paint company would create these sketches to show off their latest colors, sometime utilizing real vehicles, but often drafting made up transportation ideas from scratch like the examples below. One thing is certain, the French Art Deco is heavy here, and thankfully that whimsical streamline influence made its way to American auto design in the same decade.

4. According to a recent BBC article about the company, the reconstituted Alvis is simply building more of the cars that it once built before the 70-year break.

The cars are not reproductions, says company owner Alan Stote. “We’ve just picked up where the last cars were made and produced – you could just say it’s a long time between orders.” The cars carry Alvis chassis numbers and engine numbers which follow on from the last in the model sequence.

5. Finally, Australian auction company Shannons has launched a multi-part video series interviewing some of the most prominent designers of Australian cars, starting with Holden chief designer Leo Pruneau.

We watched, maybe with just a slight bit of envy, when the 1956 Packard Caribbean convertible pictured here found a new owner on Hemmings Auctions last year, selling for $73,500 (including fees).

Packard really went for broke in ’56 when it built these beautiful open-air luxury liners. It had to, because the once-great automaker was rapidly going broke, so it was pinning its hopes on the success of that year’s lineup—the flagship of which was this car. It was too late, and ’56 marked Packard’s end as an independent, yet, this car, manufactured in the face of impending doom for its builder, embodied all of the optimism of post-war America.

For starters, there’s the original base price of nearly $6,000 in 1956. That’s double the cost of many well-appointed Big Three cars of that era and was nearly half the price of a one-family home. The New York Times reported back then that a tight housing market caused median home prices to rise from $13,050 in ’55 to $14,508 in ’56. You get the gist; this convertible was strictly for the well-heeled.

For that sum, buyers—what few there were as only 276 of these were produced—got a treasure chest of standard equipment. There was, of course, power-assisted steering and brakes, power windows, power top, and the Push-Button Ultramatic transmission. You can’t have a discussion about these cars without mention of Packard’s innovative Torsion Level Suspension with its power Levelizer. These cars rode on full-length torsion bars on each side that connected the front and rear wheels, delivering a smooth ride. When the car’s level changed, because of passengers on board or luggage in the trunk, an electric motor, triggered by a sensor, would kick in and preload or unload a set of shorter bars that automatically maintained the correct ride height. It was a brilliant system in its day and equally so today.

Inside, there were reversible seating surfaces so buyers didn’t have to choose between fabric or leather—they could have either just by flipping the cushions. Should it get too chilly for just the cabin heater, Caribbean drivers could also turn on the front underseat heater for added warmth. Those seats were, of course, power-adjustable in Caribbeans.

As you’d expect, Packard went all in under the hood of these cars as well, with a 374-cu.in. V-8 breathing through two four-barrel carburetors. With 10:1 compression, these engines made 310 horsepower and a stump-pulling 405 lb-ft of torque at 2,800 rpm. The standard push-button Ultramatic transmission was only a two-speed, but the engine’s ample low-end grunt easily compensated.

These cars were never really mainstream, but they were always highly regarded by collectors. Despite low production numbers, a few of these have sold recently (including the car sold by Hemmings Auctions). A black-and-tan example changed hands for $42,560 at Bonhams Amelia Island auction in March, for instance. In 2021, two sold at Mecum’s Indy sale in May, one for $82,500 and another for $73,700. With 42 sales recorded (some of which may be the same car sold at different auctions) over the last five years, classic.com says the average going price of a ’56 Caribbean convertible is $62,862, with a low price of $28,000 and a high of $121,000. Adjusted for inflation, the car’s original sticker price would be around $66,000—just over the average today. On the whole, 1950s American car prices have been flat over the last decade, and while that may change, buying one of the remaining few ’56 Caribbean convertibles out there in hopes of selling it for a quick profit might not be the best business plan. Instead, if you can find one, put the top down, put on an optimistic smile, and enjoy cruising in the most luxury ’56 had to offer.

Photo from The Hemmings Auctions