Hemmings

After a brief hiatus, the Arizona Concours d’Elegance returned in 2023, officially kicking off Scottsdale Auction Week as it had in the past. Held in partnership with Scottsdale Arts on Sunday, January 22, on the city’s newly renovated Scottsdale Civic Center’s central outdoor space, this year’s event fittingly celebrated “The Art of Aerodynamics,” which featured roughly 100 vehicles arranged in 13 classes. At first blush, it may seem like a small gathering for a concours; however, each vehicle invited boasted rarity, historical significance, or a combination thereof, all in a cozy, spectator friendly setting. Uncharacteristically chilly temperatures greeted the day – a heavy frost had set overnight – but it did little to cool car owner and spectator enthusiasm. If you’re looking for an excuse to arrive in Scottsdale early for 2024 auction week, this could be the best reason. Here’s a brief look at this year’s gathering.

Date: circa 1980s

Location: Rock Island, Illinois

Source: via Historic American Engineering Record / Library of Congress

What do you see here?

We appreciate you making time to check out this week’s Hemmings Auctions Roundup. Thirty-seven new listings ran through our online auctions between Sunday, January 15, and Saturday the 21st 2023, and we had 39 vehicles find new homes, bringing a sell-through rate of 108 percent. Thirteen of the total were post-auction Make Offer listings.

Terry Shea, Director of Auction Operations, explains how we can sell at a better-than-100-percent sell-through rate: “While most post-auction Make Offer sales take place the same week that those cars are listed, while interest is still hot from the auction, some of those sales take place weeks or even months after they initially failed to meet reserve. Since we counted those cars against the sell-through rate when they did not meet reserve the first time, it only makes sense for us to include them when they do sell. We are constantly working hard to bring together sellers and buyers of collector cars. When we can make that happen, we want to celebrate that success. So, we are counting them in our sell-through rate.”

View the latest consignments and consider placing your own bids after subscribing to the daily Hemmings Auctions newsletter.

1971 Mercedes-Benz 280 SL

Reserve: $90,000

Selling Price: $111,300

Recent Market Range: $93,150-$115,450

Under the definition of “timeless classic” in the dictionary, you’ll find the second-generation Mercedes-Benz SL. This final-year example sported the most powerful, mechanically fuel-injected straight-six engine mated to an automatic, both rebuilt and working properly. The suspension and brakes were also refreshed during the car’s 2019 refurbishment (documentation and photos were included), when the paint, chrome, seals, and leather-upholstered interior were all tended to. Both the soft top and hard top were called “excellent,” and the 280 wore stylish European-market headlamps. Minor condition issues were noted, but nothing bad enough to stop this SL from nearly topping its market range.

1970 Chevrolet Chevelle SS 396

Reserve: $53,000

Selling Price: $65,100

Recent Market Range: $51,300-$68,700

Because it’s easy to “clone” a popular muscle car like the 1970 Chevelle Super Sport, it’s important to verify the authenticity of such a muscle machine before paying top dollar. The seller of this repainted example provided numerous photos and documents proving the 402-cu.in. V-8 was factory-installed; it and the column-shift automatic may have been rebuilt, but there wasn’t proof. It’s believed the sub-41,000-mile odometer reading was accurate. Despite a minor rear main seal leak, the well-cared-for car was said to run and drive well, with fresh radial tires accompanying new suspension and brake components. Six videos and ample detailed photos helped the Chevy hammer for a healthy sum.

1967 Honda CA77 Dream

Reserve: None

Selling Price: $2,700

Recent Market Range: $1,500-$3,500

You meet the nicest people on a Honda like this 1967 CA77 Dream, which was mildly customized in a way that didn’t detract from its usability. Features added to the motorcycle included a different, specially upholstered Honda Z50 seat, shortened exhaust pipes, custom billet components, and the yellow paint scheme. There were minor condition issues and overspray noted with that paint; the seller also divulged some corrosion marred the wheels, the chain enclosure was missing, and the speedometer didn’t work. Those demerits were balanced by how well the 23-hp flat-twin engine and four-speed operated, as proven on one of numerous videos. The seller answered questions and the bike sold well.

1929 Ford Model A

Reserve: $6,000

Selling Price: $22,418

Recent Market Range: $9,400-$16,700

The market for Ford’s Model A is perennial, with nicely presented examples still bringing solid money nearly a century after they were built. This rumble-seat-equipped 1929 roadster appeared very nice, with seller-submitted photos showing shiny paint, crisp accent striping, a taut top, and a welcoming artificial leather upholstered interior. The car wore numerous accessories including a radiator stone guard, wind wings, and a luggage rack. Its 40-hp engine showed age and use but was said to run “perfectly,” and the undercarriage looked correct despite minor surface corrosion. No side curtains were present. It took an impressive 38 bids with nine time extensions to secure its new home.

1977 Toyota FJ45 Land Cruiser

Reserve: $41,000

Selling Price: $42,000

Recent Market Range: $39,100-$55,500

The seller of this rarely seen, late-model Land Cruiser pickup revealed the Toyota originated in Venezuela, and that it had enjoyed a ground-up restoration finished one year ago. The truck offered a blend of factory-correct and custom touches, the latter including a raised suspension with off-road tires, a winch, bed-mounted roll bar, air conditioning, and a touchscreen stereo head unit. The 4.2-liter inline-six engine was rebuilt with a new carburetor and aluminum radiator, and the adjacent four-speed manual said to shift without issue. In-process photos showed the extent of the restoration work that left this FJ45 looking appealingly fresh. It sold post-auction as a Make Offer listing.

1994 Mercedes-Benz SL 600

Reserve: $28,500

Selling Price: $32,550

Recent Market Range: N/A

The little “V12” badges on the fenders of this SL 600 were easy to miss, and if you didn’t otherwise know the numerals in the car’s name indicated its engine displacement, you’d find little to tip you off that this was the ultimate Mercedes-Benz flagship of the 1990s. Coming out of single-family ownership, the convertible sported very low miles and appeared very well maintained. It appeared to be a turnkey modern classic, having some $22,000 in recent services that included a key suspension part. A minor accident, cracked windshield, and older tires were noted, which may have tempered bidding. The SL ultimately sold as a Make Offer listing, and its selling price represented a real bargain.

When Lee Iacocca left the Ford Motor Company and joined Chrysler in 1978, he was faced with rebuilding a car company on the verge of bankruptcy. One of the reasons for the company’s lack of capital, he claimed, was that the corporation’s diverse number of platforms—five in production at the time —shared few common parts, which in turn had created a complex manufacturing and inventory conundrum.

Correcting Chrysler’s fortunes would require a streamlined system of production already in practice in Germany and Japan: fewer platforms with a broad array of shared components, most of which were hidden from buyer’s eyes. While Iacocca stood before the U.S. Congress making his appeal for the great “Chrysler bailout” in 1979, his engineers were busy developing a new chassis: The K-car platform.

The new front-wheel-drive K-platform debuted as the compact Dodge Aries and Plymouth Reliant in the fall of 1980, replacing the recall-plagued Aspen and Volare in the divisions’ lineups. Each of the new “K-cars” were offered in two-door and four-door sedan body styles, as well as a station wagon, in various trim levels. It was a clear shift for the corporation, with more aerodynamic and fuel-efficient vehicles aimed at lowering the buyers’ operating costs while simultaneously reducing production costs.

No sooner had the K-car begun to roll off dealership lots across the country when the parent division began to adopt the chassis for a reimagined LeBaron, set to be introduced for 1982. Like its corporate siblings, the new LeBaron was to make use of the existing two-door coupe, four-door sedan, and wagon—but a storied, luxurious name needed, perhaps, just a bit more, and this is where adaptability came into play as part of Iacocca’s engineering directive.

The Chrysler brand had not offered a convertible since the 1970 model year. Encouraged, in part, by a rebounding economy, Iacocca felt there might be renewed interest. To test the waters, he had a LeBaron two-door coupe sent from the St Louis, Missouri, plant to California, where it was modified into a “non-functional” convertible. Once completed and displayed at several auto shows — where it was met with strong interest— Cars and Concepts, based in Brighton, Michigan, was contracted to manage the conversion of two-door coupes into convertibles for the posh LeBaron (and the new Dodge 400).

Cars and Concepts was chosen from a list of aftermarket firms based on their competitive price, coupled with a full-service package of engineering, manufacturing, and after-sale support. Just as important, the company was deemed to have a proper concept of how to build convertibles in the new decade. As one would expect, Cars and Concepts did more than just hack off the roof of a two-door coupe. Approximately 34 separate steps were undertaken to complete the complex conversion, most of which included the necessary sheetmetal surgery and intricate body reinforcement required.

Thus, when the reimagined Chrysler LeBaron was officially unveiled for 1982, the entry-level luxury car was available in two-door coupe, four-door sedan, and convertible guises. Having shed its former boxy look for aerodynamic sleekness without sacrificing elegant trimmings, the all-new LeBaron was announced as, “Lee Iacocca’s dream to combine high mileage and luxury in a series of cars,” in ads pitched by actor Ricardo Montalban.

With the redesign came refreshing fuel-mileage estimates of 25 in the city and as high as 40 on the highway. Such numbers were made possible in part by a Chrysler-developed 2.2-liter four-cylinder engine (equating to 135 cubic inches) rated at 84 horsepower and 111 pound-feet of torque offered as standard equipment, save for the LeBaron Town & Country, which received the otherwise-optional Mitsubishi-produced 2.6-liter four-cylinder. A four-speed manual transmission was standard, though an automatic was optional.

Naturally, the LeBaron convertible was to be the ultimate in luxury further touted in Chrysler brochures and ads: “The convertible exudes an elegance, a sense of style that starts at the tip of its highly stylized grille and continues through to plush interior appointments. No other car is causing so much excitement.” That said, a luxury tradition was maintained when Chrysler offered the line in the upscale Medallion series, as depicted by this Mark Cross edition currently under the care of Ted DeHoogh of Sioux Center, Iowa.

The Mark Cross Edition was available for buyers who wanted their LeBaron fully equipped with standard LeBaron and otherwise-optional equipment. In convertible form, and beyond the exclusive Mark Cross leather interior and trim, this included power steering, power brakes, power windows, power door locks, power top, remote trunk release, cruise control, air conditioning, console with bucket seats, tilt wheel, twin remote mirrors, AM/ FM/cassette radio, wire wheel covers, and more. There was also a $1,000 Reservation Certificate receipt presented in a beautiful leatherette Mark Cross portfolio. Additional premiums included an umbrella with holder color-keyed to the car’s interior and a “Made in Italy” Mark Cross key chain and key.

Forgoing the standard equipment list further, the Mark Cross editions were delivered with the Mitsubishi 2.6-liter “MCA Jet” four-cylinder backed by a front-wheel-drive three-speed Torqueflite automatic. The spunky 156-cu.in., two-barrel-topped four-cylinder featured a second intake valve that was much smaller than the primary unit. Prior to combustion, a blast of high-pressure air (the “Jet” part of MCA Jet) was introduced into the combustion chamber to better distribute the air/fuel mixture coming through the primary valve. The result was better combustion and a reduction in NOx emissions. The 2.6 carried a power rating of 92 horsepower at 4,500 rpm and 131 pound-feet of torque at 2,500 rpm.

Contrary to what one may think, this four-cylinder powerplant was no stranger to U.S.-market Chrysler products. It had already enjoyed service within the 1978-’80 Plymouth Fire Arrow, as well as the compact 1979-’80 Dodge Ram D-50 pickup.

The MSRP for our featured and truly limited-edition 1982 Medallion Mark Cross was $13,900 plus a $355 destination charge. Current owner Ted explains, “John Franklen, a local Sioux Center, Iowa, businessman special ordered this Chrysler LeBaron Medallion Mark Cross convertible through Vos Motor Sales in November of 1981.” This example had been ordered in Mahogany Starmist (code VH9) with a white top, and Ted has Chrysler correspondence obtained by the original owner that verified, by VIN, that this car was the 34th convertible modified by Cars and Concepts. “It was the first Mark Cross convertible delivered in the four-state area and it was displayed in the dealer showroom for a week before being delivered to its owner.”

Spending the equivalent of nearly $44,000 in today’s currency on what was then essentially Iacocca’s compact luxury car gamble, and not being able to take delivery for a week while on display, might have raised an eyebrow for most, but it mustn’t have fazed Franklen in the least.

“Once he was able to fully take ownership, Franklen drove the convertible for about 11 years, pulling the city float in parades and taking dignitaries around the town,” Ted recalls. “The dealer purchased the car back in 1993 and then put it in storage until I purchased it in July 2014. The odometer reading at the time was just 14,200 miles. I never owned a convertible before and when the opportunity came to buy it, I didn’t hesitate.”

Time has since proven that reintroducing a convertible to the Chrysler line was a gamble that paid off. Back in 1970, just 1,077 Chrysler 300 convertibles were built. At the conclusion of the ’82 season, Chrysler, with Car & Concepts, had built 3,045 base LeBaron convertibles, in addition to 9,780 upscale Medallion versions for a then-whopping total of 12,825 units. That’s excluding another 5,541 same-year Dodge 400 convertibles. Though seemingly heady numbers out of the gate, a LeBaron Medallion drop-top is a comparative rarity today, something Ted keeps in mind.

“I haven’t driven the car much in the eight years that I’ve owned it,” he says, adding, “The current odometer reading is 15,500 miles. Since purchase I’ve just cleaned and detailed it, kept it maintained, and have carefully enjoyed this unusual piece of automotive history—it is a ‘survivor.’ I’m selective about when I take it out; it’s usually to attend a few local shows annually.”

“I have a gold mine of documentation regarding the development and production of these convertibles,” Ted says. “The dealer also provided me with all the original paperwork, additional premiums, and correspondence sent to the original owner, as well as brochures and dealer posters —it’s all there. It has been very interesting owning this unique car with all its documented history and sharing it with others who take the time to stop and ask about it at events.”

The last several months have seen a barrage of articles, in the automotive and mainstream media alike, pointing out that electric vehicles have become way too expensive for regular folks to afford. It’s a problem not just for us regular folks but also for the many initiatives to electrify the global automotive fleet. And despite recent musings from people like Toyota CEO Akio Toyoda about widespread conversion of older vehicles to electric power as a way to future-proof the cars we enthusiasts dig, converted classics can easily run into the six-figure range these days.

On the other hand, I’m on track to build my Chenowth EV for less than what a no-frills, 10-year-old, what’s-that-smell Camry costs.

How I budgeted my EV build

Those of you following this project might have noticed a distinct lack of updates since last summer. A number of other projects have demanded much of my time since then, and money’s been tight lately, even for what I intended from the start to be a low-budget DIY project that anybody—even somebody who had a lot to learn about EVs like me—could put together. And when I say low-budget, I mean no-budget. It’s funded by couch cushion change and that five-dollar-bill I forgot in my pants pocket. I did get back to making progress on it recently—I’ll provide an update on that below—but first, let’s discuss what the project has cost me so far.

As with many of my car projects, I keep a spreadsheet of expenses, largely to keep myself honest when it comes to buying parts. It’s easy to just throw parts at a car while only looking forward to the next purchase, convincing yourself that it’s a low-budget project and that you really haven’t spent that much on it to date, but that’s also a quick path to getting in over your head on a project. So I set some ground rules with myself. One: No purchase that’s necessary to get the project on the road, down to the nuts and bolts and even registration costs, is too small or extraneous to record. Two: I don’t count tools, even ones I bought for a specific task on a specific project, but I do count supplies like shrink tubing and paint that I’ll certainly have leftovers of at the end of the project. Three: I subtract from the total any money I’ve made off the car from selling used parts to the loose change I find under the floormats.

​What I’ve spent to build my EV

In spite of my advice in the paragraph above, I bought much of what I needed for the Chenowth in 2021 well before I was ready to install it all. Brake lines, tires, shifter bushings, those sorts of things. I know I have a not-insignificant number of parts to get before I’m done—I still need to rebuild the beam, get a steering wheel, and install beefier transmission gears—but I’d say I’m 85 to 90 percent there. I’ll also include the disclaimer that I have not used my position at Hemmings to cadge any free or discounted parts or services from parts suppliers. There’s no inaccessible-to-the-common-man, secret-handshake, good-ol’-boys-club privilege at work here.

Grand total, so far: $9,980.26.

The biggest chunk of that total was the 2011 Nissan Leaf that I bought as a drivetrain and battery donor. It cost me $6,000 (plus the $85 to replace its flat tire, the $469 in registration and taxes to drive it around the block a few times, and the $150 I paid a local used car dealer to evacuate the air-conditioning system), but I also made sure it was a complete and running vehicle so I wouldn’t have to purchase any additional miscellaneous parts—the computers, the pedal assembly, the drive selector—that I would need to make that electric motor turn.

The Chenowth itself, which included front and rear suspension, a transaxle good for parts only, steering column, seized drum brakes, and little else, cost $1,000. I spent a little more than $700 on a disc brake conversion and other brake components and $530 on new tires. The aluminum disc and the custom coupler I used to mate the Leaf motor to the Volkswagen transaxle cost $330. So far I’ve put roughly $560 into steel and other supplies for the battery boxes.

​How I saved money on the build

Yeah, it adds up fast, and I probably didn’t need to spend the extra money for the disc brake conversion kit, but I’ve also trimmed costs in plenty of other ways to make up for that added expense. To start with, the state of Vermont offers a rebate program for the purchase of used electric vehicles; in my case, that was worth $750 (registering the Leaf, as noted above, was necessary to get the rebate). Spare VW parts are plentiful if you know who to ask, and Jim Howe, a former Hemmings columnist, gave me a good number of spare parts hanging around his shop, including a rebuildable transaxle, some wide five wheels, and a spare front beam. Instead of spending four figures on some racing seats that probably wouldn’t fit in the Chenowth’s tight cockpit anyway, I recently scored a free set of seats that fit perfect from somebody local doing a hashtag vanlife conversion on an old airport bus. And rather than skin the battery boxes in expensive new sheetmetal, I’ve stockpiled some metal filing cabinets either found free by the side of the road or bought for dirt cheap out of local classifieds.

In fact, that grand total above may shrink in the near future as I sell off the original one-year-only 1968 VW axle shafts and some parts from the donor Leaf that I thought I needed but upon further review don’t.

Also, despite those promises I made to myself that I’d be open to more help from others, this has largely been a DIY project, and I’ve neither kept track of the time I’ve spent on it nor calculated what that labor would cost.

Of course, this is not a path for everybody to follow. The Chenowth won’t be a flashy restomod EV with quilted leather seats and fancy aftermarket gauges. It’s not the best real-world example of an EV conversion, given that it’ll be a three-season runabout rather than an everyday daily driver. Range will be limited due to the fact that the batteries are more than 10 years old and not in an ideal state of health. I’ve been at it for two and a half years, and it’s nowhere near running or driving.

Some of these are compromises made for the sake of penny-pinching while others are personal privation preferences, but they at least illustrate how it’s possible to go electric without spending the sort of money that carmakers and EV conversion companies are demanding.

I’ll also point out here that I started with little more than a bare chassis. Somebody converting a vehicle that needs little to no restoration could conceivably buy a newer Leaf donor car with better batteries and spend roughly the same as what I have.

​Recent progress

As for the progress I’ve made in the last six months or so, it’s all been relegated to trying to finish off the battery boxes. When we last left our intrepid hero, he’d finished welding together the first of three boxes and started to fabricate its top. I don’t know if my welding has improved much since then (as the hillbillies around here say, “I welded, it helded”), but I’ve at least had plenty of practice welding together the box for the 20-module stack, integrating the box for the six-module stack into the box for the 22-module stack, and fabricating lids for the two larger boxes. To each of the larger boxes I’ve added a submersible breather vent, and I’ve started to figure out how to solid mount them to the Chenowth’s chassis. In the six-module box, I’ve also made room for the contactors as well as the battery monitoring system module.

It’s slow going at the moment, and I still have a ways to go before I finish the battery boxes. I need to research a bulkhead that allows the cables connecting the two larger battery boxes to pass through safely, I need to add a lid for the six-module box, I need to find a place for the master battery disconnect, I need to finalize mounts for the boxes, and I need to skin them. Once that’s all finished, I can then begin the arduous task of connecting the BMS leads before figuring out where the other necessary components, including the inverter, should be mounted so I can wire it all up.

Date: July 1964

Location: Seattle, Washington

Source: William L. Dahl, via Washington State Archives

What do you see here?

Thank you for making time in your busy schedule to look at the latest results of the always-exciting Hemmings Auctions. The following is a sample of the broad range of vehicles that have recently crossed our virtual auction block. We saw 37 cars, trucks, and more launch between Sunday, January 8, and Saturday the 14th. Twenty-nine of them sold, which comes out to a sell-through rate of 78 percent; this figure included 11 post-auction Make Offer listing sales. Check out the latest consignments by subscribing to the daily Hemmings Auctions newsletter.

1975 Volkswagen Microbus

Reserve: $80,000

Selling Price: $89,250

Recent Market Range: N/A

This late, Volkswagen do Brasil-built Type 2 Microbus looked much older than its 1975 assembly suggested, having been visually back-dated as it was converted to 21-window/cloth sunroof Samba specification. The restomodded, air-cooled VW appeared to be in excellent condition with unblemished two-tone paint, pop-out Safari windshield panels, and a fresh seven-seat interior trimmed in original-style Deluxe tan materials. Its detailed undercarriage looked spotless, and new electrics plus a restored original 1,584-cc flat-four and four-speed manual drivetrain promised full functionality with no leaks or other issues. Ample quality photography helped push this Bus to an impressive sale result.

1972 Buick GS 455

Reserve: $85,000

Selling Price: $94,500

Recent Market Range: $75,000-$105,500

While its power output may have been down for 1972, Buick’s GS 455 enjoyed pleasantly uncluttered styling and ample comfort that year. This numbers-matching Stage 1 convertible enjoyed a documented restoration that netted it numerous concours awards, and its condition at the time of the listing appeared showroom fresh. The stylish Flame Orange paint and Parchment vinyl-upholstered interior had no noted flaws, and equipment included working A/C and an 8-track/AM radio sound system. The eponymous 455-cu.in. V-8 and column-shifted TH400 transmission were rebuild and worked properly. Five videos and a huge selection of photos were instrumental in the rare Buick achieving a fine hammer price.

1949 Triumph 2000 Roadster

Reserve: $30,000

Selling Price: $33,600

Recent Market Range: $25,000-$39,500

The postwar, pre-“TR” Triumph Roadster is a very rare sight today, especially in the U.S. This museum-displayed example featured an older restoration with no mechanical maladies divulged. The quality of the paint finish was noted as having “not exceptional quality,” but the ash-framed body was said to be corrosion-free like the separate chassis. The suspension, steering, and brakes were said to benefit from attention, but the four-cylinder and three-speed transmission worked with minor fluid weeps. It’s believed the interior’s intact leather upholstery was original, and the “+2” occasional dickey seats added period charm. The honest presentation of this Triumph helped it sell well.

1957 Cadillac Series 62

Reserve: $67,000

Selling Price: $39,900

Recent Market Range: $64,150-$82,450

The selling price of this Make Offer listing Cadillac Series 62 was surprising, considering its average market range figures. The convertible was said to have recently received both mechanical and cosmetic restoration in key areas, although its body paint was noted to contain some chips and blemishes. Its soft top looked new and the black vinyl upholstery was inviting, as was the whole interior. The seller divulged the 62’s heater was inoperable and that its power steering system had a leak. Supplied images from the car’s restoration showed corrosion on the undercarriage, which may have made bidders uneasy; the seller answered many questions, and the car eventually went to a new home.

1934 Ford Pickup

Reserve: $34,000

Selling Price: $42,000

Recent Market Range: $30,100-$48,500

Blue Oval fans found a lot to appreciate in this 1934 Pickup street rod since it hid many Ford components under its classic skin. With tidy chrome and minimally damaged paint covering a body promised to be an all steel, the truck looked very nice. Its black-vinyl-upholstered interior contained a banjo-style wheel on a tilt column, modern stereo, and VDO gauges (note, the speedometer required GPS calibration). A 1951 239-cu.in. flathead V-8 topped with twin Stromberg carbs and a modern alternator was mated to a C-4 automatic for sprightly performance, and an independent front suspension and front discs provided safety and comfort. An impressive 28 bids confirmed the Ford’s desirability.

1970 Dodge Challenger

Reserve: $99,000

Selling Price: $78,750

Recent Market Range: $82,100-$115,500

This Challenger convertible rolled out of the factory in 1970 with a 318-cu.in. V-8 under its hood, but some 17 years ago, it received a mega heart upgrade in the form of Hemi heads and a displacement change to 535-cu.in. That engine and the TorqueFlite automatic behind it were said to run and drive well. Power front disc brakes, power steering, and an upgraded suspension were all on board to corral the engine. Minor paint blemishes were divulged, but reportedly there was no rust in the body; a rip in the driver’s seat vinyl and disconnected tachometer were the largest issues for the black vinyl interior. The Dodge nearly reached its low market range when it sold as a Make Offer listing.

There may have been a place for another full-size car in the Australian market during the Seventies. There may have been an appetite for an advanced competitor to the Ford Falcons, Holden Kingswoods, and Chrysler Valiants, especially if it proved more economical and better built. There may have been a place for the Leyland P76 when it was introduced 50 years ago, had things not gone awfully wrong for the car that has since become the butt of many an Australian automotive enthusiast’s joke.

Before the 1968 merger of Leyland Motors and British Motor Holdings that formed British Leyland, BMC’s Australian arm did a brisk business selling the Mini and a range of other economical cars. Despite the success of the lineup, limited parts sharing among BMCA’s cars hurt profitability, so David Beech and his colleagues at BMC’s Australian arm formed a plan to design and build two cars by and for the Australian market: a mid-size car to be released in 1973 and a full-size family car a year later.

Beech, however, was taken aback by the merger and the swift decision to greenlight the Marina, a car that fit neatly into his team’s plans for the mid-size car. Those plans, however, allowed the team to focus all of their resources on the full-size car. Those resources weren’t vast, however: His initial request for a AU$30 million budget got whittled down to AU$21 million, which was to cover both development of the car and refurbishment of an existing assembly line in the company’s Zetland factory previously used for building small cars. Internally designated YDO26 (for a sedan version) and YDO27 (for a coupe version), the full-size car was given the nod by British Leyland in England in late 1968.

Leyland brochure image

While many stories about the P76 simply note that the car’s styling came from Giovanni Michelotti, Michelotti’s involvement was actually limited, according to Dave Carey’s history of the P76 for Street Machine magazine. Beech did visit Michelotti in Turin hoping to get the famed designer on board with the project, but his decision to do so without consulting Romand Rodbergh, the chief stylist for BMCA, didn’t sit well with Rodbergh. Granted, Rodbergh and his team had only tweaked existing designs and never taken on a full from-scratch design project before, but the decision bothered him so much he spent his holidays working on styling proposals that he sent straight to Donald Stokes, the head of British Leyland in England.

Rodbergh’s design famously incorporated a capacious trunk—large enough for a full 44-gallon drum—which, combined with an angular and horizontal grille, gave it something of a wedge design, which was just then becoming vogue among car designers. (Yes, Max was able to fit two big ol’ drums in the boot of his Interceptor, but those were different circumstances.) His design also beat out not only the styling proposals submitted by Michelotti, but also those submitted by Karmann and British Leyland’s studios in Longbridge, though as Carey noted, the marketing department still wanted Michelotti’s name attached to the design, so Beech had the latter “finesse” Rodbergh’s design.

How much of the engineering of the P76 took place in Australia, on the other hand, isn’t as clear. Carey notes that Leyland engineers, without the luxury of a private proving grounds, bought a small fleet of Holdens to which they progressively added more P76 components over the next two and a half years. However, Keith Adams of AROnline notes that the limited budget meant relying on existing British Leyland work. “There was no way that this was going to be a clean-sheet design at this funding level and much existing Rover-Triumph hardware would need to be incorporated in order to make the P76 programme pay for itself,” Adams wrote. In fact, Adams has suggested that the P76 could have been derived from the stillborn Rover P8, an attempt to build a V-8 luxury sedan that came too close to the Jaguar XJ6.

Leyland brochure image

Whatever the case, the P76 emerged with a 4.4-liter version of the 3.5-liter Rover V-8 (itself a derivative of the all-aluminum Buick 215 used in the early 1960s) good for 200 horsepower and 280 pound-feet of torque, a Borg-Warner automatic transmission, standard front disc brakes, MacPherson strut suspension, and the 111-inch wheelbase considered standard for full-size Australian cars. British Leyland reportedly offered to purchase straight-six engines from the other Australian car manufacturers, but with a short engine bay designed around the V-8, the company found that only its E-series overhead-camshaft six-cylinder from the Austin/Morris 2200, with some minor revisions and a displacement increase to 2.6 liters, would fit.

The P76 sedan bowed in 1973 to quick acclaim. Leyland Australia noted that it had Australian size and European sensibilities. Australian magazine Wheels declared it the car of the year. It received high marks for its handling and for the V-8 engine. One even won the Targa Florio stage in the 1974 World Cup Rally. For a moment, it looked like the Leyland P76 would establish British Leyland as a serious contender in the full-size Australian car market. The company laid plans for a 3.3-liter V-6 derivative of the V-8 engine and for a full line-up of variants, including a ute, a station wagon, and a coupe. The coupe, a hatchback called the Force 7V, actually made it to limited production before plans for it were scuttled. Leyland fully intended the P76 to carry the Australian division through the Seventies and for it to eventually make its way to England.

Leyland brochure image, courtesy John Lloyd / Flickr

So what went wrong with the Leyland P76? To begin with, it debuted at a time of rising inflation that tanked car sales across the board in Australia. As Carey noted, Holden sales were down 11 percent and Ford sales were down 7 percent. It wouldn’t have been a good year for any carmaker to introduce a new model. Add in the 1973 oil crisis, which hit not long after the car’s introduction, and suddenly full-size V-8 cars became a harder sell.

It also turned out that Beech and his staff had rushed the P76 into production. Carey rattled off a list of common defects, including windshield and door sill seals, dashboards that distorted in the sun, shifter handles that fell off in the driver’s hand, an inadequately sized air-conditioning compressor, and poorly fitting trim and body panels. Leyland Australia put in requests to England for design changes to handle the defects, but British Leyland penny-pinchers reportedly determined it would cost less to handle warranty claims than to make the design changes, so “with scant room on the factory floor and no money to fix the production line, Leyland Australia set up the Rectification Centre, a two-million-dollar facility with 60 highly trained staff tasked with making the cars fit for sale,” Carey wrote. “Once established, almost every completed car went through the centre for repair work.”

Leyland brochure image

One of those jokes: Why should Leyland have called it the P38 instead? Because it was half the car it should have been.

Maybe the timing was off, and maybe Leyland Australia could have ironed out the P76’s production woes. But what really sealed the P76’s fate was the parent company’s woes. Corporate mismanagement and poor sales put the company far into debt, leading executives to shutter factories in Spain, Italy, South Africa, and Australia. The Zetland factory produced its last car in November 1974, not two years after the P76’s introduction. Just 18,007 P76s were built.

That’s not to say that there’s no enthusiasm for the P76 in Australia. The remaining Force 7V coupes are well documented and highly sought after, Gerry Crown’s P76 won the Classic category in the 2013 and 2016 Peking to Paris rallies, and an active P76 owners club in Australia keeps tabs on the parts and knowledge necessary to maintain the cars.

No, it’s not the actual Bill Jenkins Black Arrow that won the 1965 NHRA Winternationals, but this 1965 Plymouth Belvedere listed for sale on Hemmings.com could be the next best thing or even better, depending on one’s point of view. For an investor, somebody who wants to buy and sell at auction and admire something with provenance in their garage in the meantime, nothing beats the actual 1965 Plymouth Belvedere that made those passes with Jenkins’s work under the hood and with Jenkins in the driver’s seat. However, for somebody who wants to experience the Black Arrow for themselves, to take it down the quarter mile, to maybe even believe they could out-wrench and out-shoe Jenkins using the same basic platform—and to not worry about stuffing a piece of history into a guardrail the whole time—a clone’s the way to go.

The seller of this Belvedere appears to have spent plenty of time duplicating the original, installing a period-correct Hemi and getting the logos and overall aesthetics right. That said, it’s not an exact replica with a modern radiator, four-wheel disc brakes, and certainly other upgrades from the original’s specifications. Doubtless some departures from authenticity are concessions to modern safety standards; others are probably just in the spirit of competition for a drag strip warrior. Then again, it’s a two-door post Belvedere with a full roll cage, an aluminum-headed Hemi, a Dana 60 rear axle, and a relatively new fuel system and front and rear suspensions, so it’s a good starting point to either go full-on quarter-mile terror or to aim for greater authenticity for the nostalgia drags. Or, with the investment already put into setting up the car, one could easily leave well enough alone and just be happy to invoke Da Grump while making hot passes all day long.

Lifting economy cars and putting gnarly tires under them seems to be all the rage these days, likely inspired by the overlanding movement, the increased interest in camping due to the pandemic, and the resurgent four-wheel-drive truck and SUV aftermarket, but Volkswagen enthusiasts have been jacking up Beetles—you know, the world’s foremost economy car—for about as long as the Beetle has been around. Longer, if you want to bring the Typ 87 into the conversation. While we don’t know the particulars of this particular safari’d 1971 Volkswagen Beetle listed for sale on the Hemmings Auctions, it appears to have been built about 15 years ago more for tooling around town than for organized off-road racing or other off-road pursuits.

In addition to the lifted suspension—likely accomplished by simply adjusting the torsion bars, given the lack of flashy aftermarket parts underneath—the Beetle’s been fitted with a Scat 1776-cc engine, wide-five wheels on adapters, and an aftermarket steering wheel and shifter. However, the rest of the car looks relatively untouched from its commuter days, down to the tears in the seat fabric and the assorted paint chips from its occasional use since it was lifted. The seller reported that it runs and drives well with no commentary on how the lift, tires, and bigger engine affect performance, though for some reason the headlamps and taillamps don’t work.

With a couple weekends’ worth of work, a fresh set of tires, and minimal outlay, it could be made into a nice beach cruiser. After a few more weekends, along with a roof basket, lightbar, and the other requisite Safari-All-The-Cars aftermarket parts, it could be a capable trail buggy ready for a backwoods camping weekend. Or, for those who don’t care about the latest trends, it doesn’t look like it would take much to return the Bug to stock.