mod@tech

By the pen of Albert McNea, the Ford Mustang took many forms. Here it’s a pinched-waist sport coupe. There it’s an AMX-like short-wheelbase two-seater with a Toronado-like snout. Elsewhere it’s a mid-engine supercar or a roadster or a futuristic sports car with a fighter jet canopy and B-17 bomber radar-cheating folded edges. McNeal took all those liberties with the Mustang not as some bored teen drawing in the margins of his schoolbooks but as a designer in Ford’s advanced vehicle program, and an upcoming auction of nearly 100 of his renderings gives a little-seen glimpse into what Ford might’ve had in mind for its pony car’s future.

“Never intended for public scrutiny, the vast majority of these artworks were guarded by the companies for whom the designers worked for and most of the work was destroyed,” Anglia Car Auctions wrote in introducing McNea’s work. As a result, many such designs “never made it beyond the artist’s desk.”

Yet somehow McNea managed to extricate dozens of his renderings from Ford’s studios. After studying at Kent State University and the Cleveland Institute of Art in the early to mid-Sixties, McNea took a job with Ford where, according to his 2005 obituary, he worked on the redesign of the production Mustang for 1969. He very well may have done so under Gale Halderman, the design chief for the Mustang at the time, but the renderings going up for auction show an artist with an eye not so much on the next few years but on far-flung futures.

Take his Mustang renderings, for instance. Even when refining a proposal for a production car, he’d give it prominent louvers and scoops or an extremely set back cockpit. When unbound by production intent, his designs took on radical proportions and unconventional body styles.

Plenty of design themes come out to play in the images. Some seem designed to directly counter the long-hood-no-deck Dodge Charger III. Some predict design cues used later in the production Mustang like the near-horizontal backlite of the 1971 Mustang SportsRoof. Still others propose a mid-engine Mustang not entirely dissimilar in profile and proportion to the C8 Corvette.

Speaking of mid-engine vehicles, several renderings among the McNea collection feature alternative front- and rear-end treatments for a project called Bearcat. Most of the renderings depict a compact coupe, something like a mix between the 1962 Mustang I and the Ford GT-40, and McNea’s front-end treatments go for a delicate, European look with a crisp leading edge not unlike the Mustang I. The rear-end treatments, on the other hand, called for heavy stabilizer-like additions that would have given the car all the rearward visibility of a 26-foot U-Haul.

It turns out that the Bearcat was no idle speculation on McNea’s part. Ford design studio photographs show a full-size fiberglass Bearcat in the studios in 1967 with outboard headlamp placement similar to McNea’s first treatment above and with a Shelby-like rear end. While it does not appear to have been shown in public, at least a couple of European car magazines reported on it as if it were in the works for production and published overall dimensions, including its wheelbase of 104 inches. “The Bearcat is a practical shape for a road car with a seating package similar to the current Mustang 2+2 fastback,” British magazine Autocar wrote.

It can’t be a coincidence that Ford’s design staff was working on the Bearcat at the same time as the Mach 2 – another proposal for a relatively compact mid-engine sports car – though exactly how the two relate to each other is unknown.

In addition to the Mustang, McNea spent some time working on proposals for the Mercury Cougar, Mercury Montego, and even the Continental Mk IV, many of which extended the Continental’s blade-like front fenders out to hilarious and grotesque proportions. No bumper would tame these projections, which looked as though they could be sharpened to cut through barbed wire for cattlemen’s occasional romps through their pastures.

McNea apparently had leave to envision a Ford Thunderbird of a distant Syd Meadian future for an advanced vehicle program as well. His resulting renderings, full of acute angles and skegs, appear more like Battlestar Galactica spaceships than anything that would appear in a showroom.

It also looks as if McNea was tasked with designing Ford’s auto show stands and booths, with one design in particular meant to celebrate Ford’s win at the 24 Hours of Le Mans.

And lest anybody think the Ford studios were all work all the time – Ford designers did play around with remote-control cars, after all – McNea’s portfolio included a number of whimsical drawings, including one of a jet-engined slab-side Continental, another of a Triumph TR3 turned into a funny car, and a Lincoln Continental Mark III with a blower sticking out of the hood and wheelie bars in the back.

McNea, it appears, didn’t last long at Ford. After a stint in Detroit, he was assigned to Ford’s Australia operations, where he reportedly worked on the design for the Falcon GT (sources don’t say which generation, but given the timing, he likely worked on the XA or XB under Jack Telnack).

From there, he went into industrial design at Walter Dorwin Teague‘s studios in Renton, Washington, where he probably worked on the Boeing account alongside Richard Sias, who had designed the 1968 Dodge Charger. McNea also pursued his love of painting and fine art – opening a gallery with his wife, Judith, in Issaquah, Washington – and taught art at the Art Institute of Seattle. He died in January 2005 at the age of 64.

While original automaker design studio renderings have grown in popularity with art and automobile collectors over recent years, it’s still rare to see them at auction or even to see an entire auction event dedicated to the renderings of one particular artist.

The McNea renderings, all offered at no reserve, will cross the block with British auctioneer Anglia Car Auctions on June 10. For more information, visit AngliaCarAuctions.co.uk.

A unique group of 230 classic and collector cars found in a Dutch abandoned church and warehouse is going up for sale on Classic Car Auctions. The collection offers several make and models from Italian, French, German, British and American vehicle manufacturers. Everything from an Alpha Romeo Spider to a Daimler Dart, to a Ferrari 365 GT and a Lincoln Continental Coupe MK2 will be offered for auction. The collection also has a few motorcycles, scooters, mopeds, and tractors sprinkled in.

Collector Ad Palmen began building on this fortress 40 years ago by accumulating any motor vehicle that he deemed beautiful or notable in some way, starting with a yellow Lancia B20. He loved a wide variety of cars and had a refined taste and extensive knowledge of rare vehicles which shows in the varied list of vehicles found in his buildings. The list is too large to include here, but it can be found on Classic Car Auctions’ website.

Palmen, due to his failing health at age 82, sold his entire collection to Gary Aaldering, who worked with Classic Car Auctions to offer the wide range of eclectic cars to the public in a collection now called “The Palmen Barnfind Collection.” The vehicles will be sold individually.

Palmen had a true dedication to his collection and a genuine love for cars. He typically maintained the vehicles by himself, starting them regularly to keep the engines from seizing and fluids moving. The vehicles are mostly all-original as he did not modify the cars. He also didn’t sell anything once it was added to his collection and rarely showed anyone what he had. This barn find could be one of, it not the, best kept secret car collections in Europe.

The Palmen Barnfind Collection features Italian car makes like Ferrari, Alfa Romeo, Lancia, and Maserati; German cars such as BMWs, NSUs and Mercedes-Benz; British cars like Aston Martins, Jaguars, and Rolls-Royces; and even American classics like Fords, Chevrolets and Cadillacs.

The collection also features Tatra, Monica, Moretti, Matra, Alvis, Imperia, and Villard.

The cars are presented in their original barn find condition, layers of dust and all.

The first-generation Acura NSX is not a supercar. It can’t be. Supercars are for parading around in a peacock strut. They’re for people who prefer to be abused by their cars, physically or financially or both. They’re hot, noisy, temperamental. They have performance and mechanical specifications and features meant for observers to recite in a Robin Leach voice. They are, in a word, impractical.

The Acura NSX, as a result, is not a supercar. “What it was not designed to be was conspicuous,” Craig Fitzgerald wrote of the NSX in Hemmings Motor News. Instead, some have called it a pure sports car, a thinking man’s supercar, or just a tour de force of automotive engineering. As Jeff Koch wrote, it only remained on the market for 15 years essentially unchanged because “it took that long for everyone else to catch up.” However one describes it, the NSX has seen newer generations of car collectors – those just now rediscovering Eighties and Nineties cars via the Radwood movement – come to appreciate it and consider seeing for themselves what the acclaim for the mid-engine Japanese coupe was all about. Here’s what to consider when looking for one.

Why Buy an NSX?

When Honda’s engineers set out to build the ultimate mid-engine sports car, they did so deliberately and without compromise. As Brian Long wrote in “Acura NSX: Honda’s Original Supercar,” they had a number of parameters difficult to meet today, let alone 30-plus years ago. “The car had to provide a top speed of around 170 MPH, a standing quarter time of less than 14 seconds, a level of handling and braking the equal of any Ferrari or Porsche, and be refined and user-friendly at the same time.”

The clean-sheet design called for mid-engine placement and all-aluminum monocoque construction, and while Honda’s engineers worked out much of the reinforcement and chassis rigidity needed for such a design, they also consulted a Cray supercomputer to ensure the design would hold up. “The shell was actually stiffer than the majority of steel sports car bodies, yet at 210kg (462lb), it was around 40 percent lighter,” Long wrote.

In addition, the front and rear double-wishbone suspension, the Ken Okuyama-designed body, and the 3.0-liter double overhead-camshaft V-6 made extensive use of aluminum, making the NSX the first mass-produced all-aluminum car. Ayrton Senna had some input on the chassis, the body wasn’t overwrought with vents, and the engine made far more power than any other V-6 at the time.

Yet what enthused reviewers about the NSX the most was how competently it performed. It could reach 60 miles per hour in 5.7 seconds, with its excellent visibility sitting in one didn’t feel terribly different from sitting in any other Acura sedan, and it dispensed with many of the luxury items and tech gadgets typically loaded into supercars in favor of a more direct, uninterrupted driving experience.

Then, once it hit the market, it remained more or less unchanged for 15 years, giving Honda a chance to continually improve upon it and enthusiasts a chance to reap the benefits. “Whatever known issues it had were resolved by the end,” Acura collector Tyson Hugie said.

Production remained low – this was, essentially, a handbuilt supercar, after all – and rare combinations about, but for many years the NSX remained an incredible bargain and though prices for them have been surging as of late, they can still be had for far less than other Nineties supercars and can be maintained for a fraction of what it takes to keep any competitive exotic on the road, in part due to the efforts of enthusiasts in the NSX Club of America to fully document the cars and build a community for sharing that information.

That said, as Chris Willson of NSX specialty shop Science of Speed noted, the number of shops that are willing to work on these cars has dwindled in recent years. “With all the guys who knew these cars retiring , moving on, or passing away, it’s become a real challenge,” he said. “It used to be there were 10 or 12 shops across the country that serviced the cars, one per region more or less. Now there’s just three or four, and people have to ship their cars even farther to have them worked on.”

A second-generation NSX – chassis code NC1 – just wrapped up its production run last year, but the scope of this article will focus just on the first-generation models.

How to Identify an NSX

The NSX, as stated above, didn’t change much from the time it was introduced in August 1990 as a 1991 model year car until production ended in November 2005. It remained the same basic car on the same basic chassis with a limited number of special editions and variants.

That said, NSX enthusiasts – and Honda itself, via the VIN – demarcate early and late NSXs with the 1997 model year. Early cars, which have NA1 in the Vehicle Identification Number’s fourth through sixth digits, use the C30A 3.0L V-6 engine and a five-speed when equipped with a manual transmission. Later cars, which have NA2 in the VIN, use the C32B 3.2L V-6 engine and a six-speed manual transmission. Look to the seventh digit to see whether the car came with a manual transmission (1) or an automatic transmission (2). The eighth digit indicates trim level while the 10th digit indicates model year.

While the NSX started out as a coupe with a fixed roof, Honda introduced the NSX-T Targa top version in March 1995 and not long after dispensed with the fixed-roof version altogether except for a limited number of special-order base model cars built between 1997 and 2002 and some European market cars. A 2002 facelift brought along fixed xenon headlamps instead of the pop-ups to meet pedestrian safety regulations along with updated front and rear fascias and interiors.

(For the most eagle-eyed carspotters, the oval-shaped exhaust tips were replaced by circular tips in 1995.)

Special editions might be part and parcel of supercar culture nowadays, but the NSX had just a couple. The 1999-only Zanardi Edition had a fixed roof; special spoiler, BBS wheels, and interior; no automatic transmission option; and about 150 fewer pounds to carry around. Just 51 were built, each with a numbered plaque on the dash.

Then there was the NSX-R, a version built for competition from November 1992 through September 1995 then offered again in 2002. Anything that wouldn’t help it go around a track faster like the radio and air-conditioning system got chucked, the chassis was made stiffer, the tendency for oversteer was removed from the suspension, deeper gears were installed, and the already handbuilt C30A engine received a little extra care. More than 483 examples were built, all for the Japanese market.

It’s not as though any model year or variant of the NSX goes unloved these days, but preferences do tend toward the earlier fixed-roof versions due to a stiffer suspension, better chassis rigidity, and lighter weight.

Also worth noting: The NSX was only badged as an Acura for the North American market. In the European and Japanese markets, the NSX wore a Honda badge. Other than which side of the car had the steering wheel, Hugie said there were no substantial differences between Honda NSXs and Acura NSXs. “There’s no compelling reason why you’d want one over the other,” he said.

Do NSXs Rust?

With their all-aluminum construction, rust is vanishingly rare on an NSX. “There could be some hardware that could corrode, I suppose,” Hugie said. In addition, the NSX’s supercar status meant that few people parked it anywhere corrosion would form even if it were built out of Fiat-grade steel.

Of more concern, according to Hugie, is whether an NSX suffered an accident at any point in its history. He recommends looking closely at the body’s panel gaps; the purpose-built Tochigi Plant where the NSXs were assembled had a reputation for precise panel gaps, so anything less than perfection is an indication of prior repairs.

Willson concurred that it’s difficult to match the level of quality that Honda put into the initial assembly of these cars. In addition, because they remained undervalued for so long, many owners treated them as something less than a car deserving the utmost attention.

“It’s very rare to come across a car that hasn’t had some minor bodywork or repaint,” he said. “You generally can easily spot red flags where the factory paint seam was broken or where the panel fasteners weren’t painted on the car like they were in the factory.”

NSX interiors, as mentioned above, tended not to have too many electronic features, but what gadgets were fitted to the cars could be problematic. Hugie cautioned that the Bose stereos, even with the oh-so-1990s trunk-mounted six-disc CD changer, were problematic; the automatic climate control interface could be glitchy; and the power antennas don’t always work as expected. He also noted that a main relay box installed behind one of the seats can, over time, develop brittle solder joints and cause a crank-but-no-start issue; repairing that issue is as simple as replacing the box at about $70, but it can cause diagnosis headaches.

The lack of available electronics for NSXs has made the cars much more difficult to work on in recent years, according to Willson. Because of the age of the electronics, he’s seeing a lot of circuit board damage from leaking capacitors and his shop has had to resort to replacing the original circuit boards in some components with modern boards.

“I recommend people do overhauls on their circuit boards before they become a problem,” he said.

Should an NSX require a full restoration, replacement parts are becoming difficult to find, particularly for the earlier cars, Hugie noted. “Honda doesn’t have much of a heritage program,” he said, but it has offered an NSX Refresh Plan in Japan since 1993, which offers everything from a deep clean to a complete return to as-new condition.

What Engines and Transmissions Did the NSX Come With?

Aside from basic block layout, aluminum-intensive construction, and bore spacing, the NSX’s 90-degree double overhead-camshaft C30A and C32B have almost nothing in common with the rest of the Honda C-series V-6s. “Some people think they can swap an NSX engine into their Acura Legends, but there’s definitely no plug-and-play solution to doing so,” Hugie said.

To reduce weight, Honda’s engineers designed the blocks with open decks, specified titanium for the connecting rods, iron-coated aluminum for the pistons, and (in the C32B, at least) a blend of carbon fiber and aluminum called Fiber Reinforced Metal instead of steel for the cylinder liners. For strength, they stuck with a forged steel crankshaft held in by six-bolt main caps.

The C30A came in two different power levels, depending on the transmission. Five-speed versions put out 270 horsepower while automatic-equipped versions used different camshafts to put out just 252 horsepower. (For a double whammy, automatic-equipped cars also packed on 88 pounds over the manual-transmission cars.) The C32B saw power increase to 290 horsepower as a result of the displacement increase and larger intake valves. VTEC variable valve timing generally kicks in at around 5,800 RPM, about 1,000 RPM higher than the engagement point for the Variable Volume Induction System’s secondary intake plenum.

Because the C-series engines use an interference design with timing belts, it’s crucial to ensure those are regularly replaced. But, despite their advanced technology, Hugie said the engines are still characteristic Honda, requiring only routine maintenance to ensure trouble-free operation.

Science of Speed offers, essentially, three different service levels ranging from a basic change of fluids all the way up to a timing belt and water pump replacement that includes fresh gaskets and even replacing the two dozen or so coolant hoses throughout the car. The latter, though extensive, still only runs about $4,000.

The only real Achilles heel for NSX drivetrains, according to Hugie, are the snap-rings in the 1991 and 1992 manual transmissions, which can shatter due to a groove that was cut too wide inside the transmission case. “If you notice the gearshift starting to wobble, then it’s time for corrective action,” he said. It is, however, a well-documented issue, the subject of a Technical Service Bulletin (93-010), and affected only cars within a certain assembly date range. Advertisements for cars that fall within or near that range will typically clarify whether the snap-ring issue has been dealt with.

Parts availability is starting to affect the drivetrains as well, with all of their bespoke parts. Willson noted, for example, that the supply of OEM-style 3.0L crankshafts has essentially been exhausted, with only aftermarket performance versions now available.

While the cars span both OBDI and OBDII eras, there aren’t many substantial differences in their engine management systems, Hugie said, aside from the fact that the later cars require an OBDII scan tool while the earlier cars can return diagnostic codes via a paperclip terminal bridge.

How Do NSX Chassis and Brakes Hold Up?

Sure, the NSX’s chassis and, in particular, its suspension design had been influenced by the company’s Formula One involvement, as many articles about the NSX have stated. However, as Koch pointed out, the double-wishbone design with coil-over shocks front and rear and forged aluminum components wasn’t all too different from what Honda placed under all of its cars in the Nineties. Then again, only for the NSX’s suspension tuning did Honda recruit Ayrton Senna and Bobby Rahal as consultants.

As expected, Honda installed disc brakes front and rear, with those systems generally proving trouble-free with the exception of the ABS pump. “It’s common when the cars sit for an extended period of time for the pump to deteriorate,” Hugie said. “That’s why a lot of people say to make sure to give the car a few good hard stops on a gravel road to exercise the brakes.”

Later cars with updated ABS systems don’t cause as much of an issue, so Hugie said it’s common to see earlier cars like his 1992 fitted with complete ABS systems from later cars. “It’s a better performing system – the difference in brake pedal feel was immediately noticeable – and the parts are more readily available,” he said.

While NSXs received electric power steering from the factory around the same time the NSX-T was introduced, Hugie said it was probably unnecessary and that the manual steering of the earlier cars provided a more direct feel for the road. He also cautioned against upgrading from the earlier 15- and 16-inch wheels to the later 17-inch wheels. “They looked amazing, but I felt the car handled best with the original wheels,” he said.

Excessive rear tire wear has also been a known issue since the cars were new, with some cars getting less than 3,000 miles before the tires go bald, according to a New York Times article on the issue from 1994. Rear suspension alignment and tires designed for high-performance applications were both identified as culprits, though some enthusiasts note that correcting for both of those factors still results in higher-than-normal tire wear.

What’s an NSX Worth?

The days of the $25,000 NSX are certainly over. In the last decade or so, values have risen markedly to the point where the cars regularly trade for six figures. Of the NA1/NA2 NSX listings currently on Hemmings.com, only one has an asking price less than $100,000; the rest generally range from $105,000 to $135,000 with one 9,800-mile example listed for $149,000.

Actual sale prices haven’t dipped below $50,000 in more than a year, according to data on Classic.com, with a handful approaching $200,000 and one original example fetching $245,000 in an online auction more than a year ago. Generally, the newer the car, the more valuable, with early NA1s averaging about $70,000, NSX-Ts averaging about $75,000, pre-facelift NA2s averaging $105,000, and facelifted NA2s averaging $130,000.

Additional NSX Resources

NSX Club of America

240 Klein Ln.

Saukville, WI 53080

NSXCA.org

NSX Prime

NSXPrime.com

Science of Speed

480-894-6277

ScienceofSpeed.com

Craig Breedlove’s accomplishments speak for themselves. He brought the world’s land-speed record back to the United States, he advanced the world land-speed record at a tremendous rate, and perhaps more importantly he captured national attention for a sport that had previously belonged to counts and captains. “In the 120-year history of land speed racing, no name looms larger than that of Craig Breedlove,” Samuel Hawley wrote in the prologue to his 2019 biography of Breedlove, “Ultimate Speed.” Many count Breedlove as an inspiration, but could his success even be duplicated nowadays?

Breedlove, if nothing else, was persistent. Pretty much every obituary for him that appeared since he died last week at the age of 86 related his formative adventures in Ford hot rods in his teens and recounted some of the numerous setbacks throughout his racing career – such as the 1964 crash that left the Spirit of America nose down in a brine pond at the Bonneville Salt Flats – that he overcame on his way to further records. Even after declaring his retirement in the mid-2000s, he couldn’t stop thinking about land-speed racing and had even started to assemble a team to go chase the horizon yet again in recent years.

“He was a tremendous personality, especially in terms of taking rejection and trying again,” Hawley said. “He just didn’t give up, and you see that by the fact that he was still going after records in the 1990s.”

Breedlove was nothing less than a subject matter expert in land-speed vehicles. He worked as a structural engineering technician at Douglas Aircraft at one point, but he could also parse advanced aerodynamics, get decommissioned jet engines running, and probably conduct college lectures on designing a chassis for 700MPH speeds. While others were pursuing the land-speed record essentially using hunches and best guesses at what could make them go faster, Breedlove was employing cutting-edge technology and using data capture and analytics to further his understanding of vehicle dynamics at speed. “With the first Spirit of America, Craig had installed a data acquisition device out of a fighter jet to know exactly what the car was doing and when the front end was lifting,” Hawley said.

Craig Breedlove in his father’s garage with the Spirit of America streamliner

As Hawley related, when Breedlove retired and sold his Sonic Arrow to Steve Fossett, Fossett’s engineering staff asked why Breedlove didn’t include all the drawings for the car. “Craig didn’t have hundreds of drawings,” Hawley wrote. “He never did. He explained to the incredulous engineer that (a) handful of sketches and blueprints was everything he had put down on paper. It was how he worked, going all the way back to his first Spirit (of America). ‘When I’m building a car, everything I want to do is in my head. I know every nut and bolt, every little piece. I’ve designed the whole thing down to the smallest detail, every single component.'” And this for a vehicle that had just recorded a speed of 636 MPH.

Breedlove could put together incredible teams. His first trip to Bonneville with the Spirit of America in 1962 proved disastrous, Hawley said, if only because he deferred to Rod Schapel, who helped design the vehicle and conduct wind tunnel testing on it. “He put that right in 1963 when he took the lead of the team,” Hawley said. “It wasn’t in his nature to take charge like that, but he learned that he had to assert himself if this was going to work.” Nor did he determine to do it all himself, as Art Arfons did. He went on to assemble teams full of people who he recognized as more knowledgeable than himself, all the way from Walt Sheehan, who helped with the engineering of Breedlove’s vehicles, down to Bob Davids, who contributed fiberglass components to the Spirit of America.

“You know, I can’t tell you how I was able to pull all these people in,” Breedlove told Hawley. “I guess I managed to grovel enough to get them to help me.”

Hawley cited a few other keys to Breedlove’s success, including the support of his father, Norm Breedlove, a Hollywood special effects artist who helped Breedlove envision the project and see it as a professional endeavor rather than a mere hot-rodder’s fantasy. Indeed, without funding – massive funding, far beyond what any racer could hope to attain with the local garage’s name painted in shoe polish on the door – none of what Breedlove did would have been possible.

“When he was about half done building the first Spirit of America, he realized that it would take 20 years to finish the car without a sponsor,” Hawley said. “And he wasn’t a natural pitchman. He was very shy and had to work at building the skills to make those presentations.”

Craig Breedlove with the Spirit of America

Yet, unlike Arfons, who bristled under sponsorship from Firestone, Breedlove knew exactly what had to be done, and his willingness to do it paid off with support from Shell and Goodyear. “They protected him, they cosseted him,” Hawley said. “They allowed him to have that real strong team.”

Or, at least, they did to a point. After he set the record above 600 MPH in 1965, and after the competition with Arfons essentially came to an end, funding dried up. Shell and Goodyear no longer saw land-speed racing as anything more than a liability, and all of Breedlove’s plans for greater speeds had to be shelved. “He actually wanted (Gary) Gabelich to break the record because he wanted investors to keep funding his projects,” Hawley said.

Instead, facing rejection after rejection, Breedlove left the sport. He went into real estate and made a fortune there, Hawley said, simply so he could fund a return to land-speed racing briefly in the mid-Nineties.

Nor is Breedlove the only one to face almost insurmountable funding challenges in his attempt to set the world land-speed record. Mickey Thompson essentially quit land-speed racing in the Sixties because he saw no way to find sponsors for those jet- and rocket-powered vehicles. More recently, the supremely well-funded Bloodhound land-speed racing effort went into a museum because the money wasn’t there – and this was after signing big-name sponsors and a last-minute rescue by a billionaire.

“When it came to an end (for Craig), it was all because of the lack of sponsorships,” Hawley said.

Breedlove was an exceptional man, no doubt about it. He had the right mix of talent, drive, and background to do what he did. But he also had the advantage of living in an exceptional time when an average hot-rodder with a decent elevator pitch could walk into Akron and come out with the funding necessary to pilot a land-speed racing vehicle to unheard-of speeds. Nobody else – outside of, perhaps, Arfons – could have done what he did at that time. And not even Breedlove himself could have done what he did at any other time.