Hemmings

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

While the sundown stripes don’t exactly change the look of this 1984 Ford Ranger consigned to the Hemmings Auctions, they sure do a great job of breaking up what would otherwise be a billboard of blank beige on either side. Instead, what really changes the look and feel of the compact pickup—aside from the obvious lift and modern aftermarket wheels—is the tip-to-tail restoration. This may be the first Ranger we’ve seen in years with an interior that’s not ripped and cracked or with an engine bay that’s had the slightest amount of detailing. It’s clean, but at the same time, it’s not so precious that you wouldn’t want to hop in and drive it around town. From the seller’s description:

This 1984 Ford Ranger 4×4 Styleside Pickup was formerly owned by NASCAR champion, Ricky Craven, according to the selling dealer. The truck has been partially restored in Light Desert Tan with eye-catching vinyl sundown-stripe graphics. The seller says this Ranger is a “rock solid” Southern (Virginia and Tennessee residencies) truck that can be driven almost anywhere off-road or on the highway (the seller has had the truck on the highway at 70 mph with no issues).

The engine is a 2.8-liter OHV V6, which Ford rated at 115 horsepower and 150 lb-ft of torque when new. It’s backed by a three-speed automatic transmission and four-wheel drive with a manual transfer case and auto-locking front hubs, according to the seller. The seller says the engine is original and “runs strong with no issues.” He says it starts quickly after two gas pedal pumps, with no smoking and no leaks. The automatic transmission shifts smoothly with no issues, per the seller. Per the seller, the truck has a new exhaust.

The seller says this Ford Ranger has a solid, “rust-free Southern body” with “excellent” condition Light Desert Tan paint that he feels is “very fresh,” with no dents, chips, or blemishes. The glass and seals are rated “excellent” by the seller. All the lights work. The custom vinyl sundown-stripe graphics were designed by the seller but they are reminiscent of factory graphics of this period. The truck has a spray-in bed liner and a LoPro vinyl tonneau cover. Both bumpers were painted black and the truck has black Westin side nerf bars/step bars.

The Desert Tan vinyl upholstery is newer and restored to original condition, according to the seller. The carpet is new but there is a small area by the shifter that was improperly cut. The headliner is “excellent” and all the interior trim has been “beautifully restored,” per the seller. The gauges and stereo all work as do the heater and air conditioning. The seller reports a new fuel gauge was installed.

The suspension was mildly lifted and the seller says he was impressed by how nice the ride is with this lift kit. He doesn’t have anything bad to say about the quality of the components. This truck has its factory twin I-beam front suspension and parallel rear leaf springs, with new shocks and new springs. There is no play in the power steering and the seller says the truck tracks nicely on the highway. The power front disc, rear drum brakes are great and stop as they should, per the seller. The “basically brand new” X-D alloy wheels are teamed with 245/70R17 Mastercraft Courser AXT2 radial tires that show 2021 date codes and have “95 percent remaining tread,” in the seller’s opinion. He states that an alignment was performed in October 2022.

See more Fords for sale on Hemmings.com.

Date: June 1988

Location: Minneapolis, Minnesota

Source: via Hennepin County Library Digital Collections

What do you see here?

We all have a type when it comes to cars. Some people narrow their focus down to one particular generation of one particular model. Others are happy staying within a certain brand. Some devote themselves to trucks, some to muscle cars. Whatever ones fancy, it’s undoubtedly easier to specialize: You get to know the cars inside and out, their weak points, the community that builds up around them. Sometimes the benefits extend further; for instance, if you’re known as the AMC guy in town, people start telling you where the AMCs are all hidden or even start offering you their AMC cars and AMC parts.

But that’s not to say we’re all entirely faithful to our type, especially when it comes to what cars we’d park in our fantasy garages. We’re all guilty of a little wandering eye sometimes, even if what catches our eye makes zero sense compared to those vehicles that we typically focus on.

The first step, then, is to identify your type. As noted recently, my type seems to be hopeless old trucks and anything requiring knuckle-busting or the long-term occupation of at least one bay of my garage. Or, at the very least, anything I can swing on an auto writer’s budget. The fewer options or features or creature comforts, the better. My type has absolutely nothing to do with anything one could describe as luxury or exotic. It’s not that I’m prejudiced against vehicles that come from outside North America—I think a Miata or a Mini or a VW Type 2 or even a Fiat 126 (or any of its derivatives) would fit comfortably in my type—but I don’t ever see myself owning something for which an oil change costs more than an entire reliable daily driver.

And yet the world comes to a complete halt every time I see a first-generation Bentley Continental GT. Doesn’t matter if it’s in person or scrolling through the Hemmings.com classifieds (where I came across the listing for the 2005 Bentley Continental GT from which I nabbed the photos here) or browsing show coverage, I always linger over it and allow those thoughts of “I could see myself in this” to flash across my mind—thoughts that no Ferrari, Lamborghini, Jaguar, Rolls-Royce, Aston-Martin, Mercedes-Benz, etc. inspires for me. I’ve never driven one, let alone sat in one. I’m not a superfan of them; to be frank, I had to look up a few specifications on the cars before starting this story. But they get my blood pumping nonetheless.

Admittedly, it’s the styling that grabs me. The Dirk van Braeckel design has excellent—possibly perfect—proportions with just the right amount of surfacing and those Chrysler d’Elegance/Karmann Ghia haunches and a restrained amount of ornamentation. The design is sporty, it’s elegant, it’s imposing, it doesn’t apologize for itself. There’s something about successive generations with their more upright grilles, their variations-on-the-theme headlamps, and their additional vents and character lines that seems less pure to me.

I’ve taken the dreaming so far as to occasionally see what Continental GTs are selling for on Hemmings.com. Not as much as I’d expect, especially for the earliest of the first-generation non-Mulliner cars, but still securely in fantasy territory. And besides, who’d service one for me out here in the hills and hollows of southwestern Vermont?

I can’t be the only one who has such a wandering eye. So tell us in the comments below what’s your automotive type, what are the cars that you admire regardless, and why?

It hardly seems possible, but another lap around the sun is about to be completed. As I’m sure is the case with other like-minded enthusiasts, my celestial New Year is not marked by a solstice or equinox event, but rather the opening day of the AACA Eastern Fall Meet in Hershey, Pennsylvania. For those new to the hobby, the pilgrimage to Chocolate Town for old vehicles, parts, and memorabilia is a decades-long tradition, and I’ve been an eager participant since 1997, save but one due to the pandemic.

This year’s multifaceted show, the second since “Tumultuous ’20,” could be considered a rebirth, much like solstices to our ancestors, after it was announced just over 12 months ago that the Hershey Meet dates shifted by one day. It may not look like much, but it was an epic BANG! heard by the community. As we’ve documented previously, vendor setup, which had traditionally occurred on Tuesday, is now (and for the foreseeable future) scheduled for Monday. The event’s official opening day is now Tuesday instead of Wednesday, and so on, culminating with the long-revered car show on Friday, rather than Saturday.

We can still see the disbelief in some eyes as they stared at wooden nickels embossed with four years of future dates. Some tried to find words of encouragement; others found solace in disgruntled mumbling. Common was the question of, “What will this do to attendance?” While it has yet to be seen if the forced move is good, bad, or otherwise, it’s important to remember two things: Hershey wasn’t cast into a realm of distant memories, and that changes are inevitable. Though the news was perhaps shocking initially, the schedule alterations could harbor an as-yet-unseen benefit. We can relate to some degree.

Take this magazine, for instance. Like the automobiles it celebrates, HCC has evolved since the first issue landed on newsstands and in mailboxes in October 2004. While some features ran their course, others were added, none more recent than the previously untold stories from fellow enthusiasts through I Was There and Reminiscing. Both were met with resounding interest and contributions, though as a reader recently pointed out, it seemed as though each were destined to slowly disappear. As noted, such is not the case. A fresh batch of I Was There stories from the assembly lines, repair shops, and service stations have begun to arrive at our Bennington, Vermont, office, as have fond memories of first rides, long cross-country treks, and the like. All make for excellent Reminiscing reading.

We know there are more tales yet to be told amongst our readers, and we’re encouraging you to keep sending in those automotive-related adventures of yore in detail, preferably accompanied by large-format digital or print-worthy photographs. Towed a travel trailer to Yosemite behind a Suburban? Hitched a Chris Craft to the back of the family sedan? Forced to change engines mid-trip, just to get back home? Let us know—I’m pleased to say that we’re going to be rededicating space within these covers shortly.

The notion of recommitting to those features in earnest had our restless minds pondering other topics of consideration. One was the fact that, inadvertently, the pandemic’s “social distance” conditions seemed to have a positive side effect on many hobbyists. The lack of social obligations left many enthusiasts with more free time to get back into the garage and start a new restoration project, revive a sleeping classic, or finish a project that had lingered in limbo. We’re just starting to see some of those fresh restorations and mechanical revivals emerge, and we bet many more are still in progress. This rediscovered pride and satisfaction of rekindling a neglected relationship with vintage vehicles is stronger than ever.

To celebrate, we’re launching a new feature called Garage Time, an homage to the In Our/Your Garage from our Hemmings Sports and Exotic past. If you’re like us, the to-do list in your palace of vehicular progress still has some things to be checked off. Drop us a line —again, with large-format digital or print-worthy photographs —showing and telling us what you’ve been doing, and what you have planned, with your vintage steed. You won’t be alone, as we’ll be providing updates on both our current home and planned in-office projects.

Stories of yore and recent garage time can be sent to Hemmings Motor News, c/o Matthew Litwin, 222 Main Street, Bennington, Vermont 05201, or by email at mlitwin@hemmings.com. Perhaps our collective tales will spur a new member of this vast hobby to take a deeper dive in vintage vehicle fun, too.

With a room full of cars all begging for your interest, It’s hard not to fall in love once or twice as you stroll across the show floor. This week’s trip to Las Vegas, for the annual Mecum Auctions extravaganza in the Las Vegas Convention Center’s North Hall, found me in a nostalgic mood: Most of the cars I found that moved me most this time out largely have a connection to my own past, however indirect. That’s ok. I’m not the nostalgic sort, but cars do that to us: They remind of us other times and places, better or otherwise.

T262, 1989 Nissan Pao

It was a brilliant concept: take an existing chassis and build a car that’s more individualistic—and whimsically retro—than what it’s based on. (Car companies do it all the time: witness the new Bronco, on a Ranger chassis, and the Bronco Sport, whose bones are shared with the Escape.) In Japan, in the ‘80s, the dull Micra subcompact (smaller than our Sentra, but still too big to be kei-class) was re-styled to become the Pao–one of four specially retro-styled models to come out of the Pike factory in Japan. (The other three, trivia fans? The 1987 Be-1, the 1989 S-Cargo, and the 1991 Figaro.) We’ve already gone over whether these were the spark that set off the whole retro-styled craze of the last 30-odd years, encompassing everything from the New Beetle to the Chrysler PT Cruiser to the ’02 Thunderbird to the Chevy SSR. The Pao’s corrugated lines, the flip-up rear quarter windows, the sliding sunroof, the piepans-on-black-steelies look, even the color—all speak to an earlier time, while the interior offered modern levels of convenience and comfort. Better still, this particular 1989 Nissan Pao wasn’t so minty that you’d be afraid to take it out for an amusing, slow cruise. Six grand bid (at press time) is probably what it cost to procure it and ship it to the States on its clean Minnesota title.

Lot F62, 1982 Ford Mustang GT

Once upon a time, when I was younger and more beautiful, one of my first editorial tasks was to help fill a 300-page monthly magazine with words about, and pictures of 5.0-liter Ford Mustangs. Oh, most of them were of the ’87-and-up fuel-injected variety, but with decades of wisdom (?) behind me, I better understand the seismic shift that happened when Ford brought back the five-liter Windsor V-8 to its Mustang, slapped a GT badge on its rump and a pair of 5.0 badges on its front fenders, and sent it out hunting Camaros. Today a four-cylinder Mustang has double-plus the amount of power that a stock ’82 GT does, but in its day, a new GT was a big step toward reclaiming Mustang’s performance heritage. This 1982 Ford Mustang GT, showing barely 20,000 miles on its odometer and sporting aftermarket Michelin TRX-style wheels that no longer require weirdo metric-sized rubber, feels like an important milestone. Today’s V-8 Mustangs don’t say 302 on the front fenders—they say 5.0. Cars like this are the reason why.

Lot T79, 1977 Datsun 620 pickup

The rows at Mecum were filled with aggressive, angry, testosterone-filled (and -fueled) trucks and SUVs—painted an array of jarring combinations, jacked to the sky, and showing you their axles and increasingly outrageous footwear with no modesty whatsoever. And somehow, among them, from across a crowded conga line of cars waiting their turn over the transom, this little honey of a Datsun pickup batted its eyelashes at me. It’s all been redone—paint, interior, exhaust, tires, and just about every mechanical system short of the engine block appears to have been gone through and refurbished. It sold as I watched for $15,400 including the house’s piece; given the list of items done to it (long enough to nearly fill that reporter’s-notebook-sized dance card that gets plastered to the windshield), surely that much was invested in its refurbishment?

Lot S90, 1963 Cadillac Eldorado Biarritz convertible

Every auction-related trip to Vegas I take, I seem to want to find a car in which to dodge the absurd quantities of traffic, lights, and construction and just go for a lazy, style-filled cruise—a car that would prove a salve from the stupidity happening outside of my steel-and-glass cocoon. This time out, the ride to fit that particular bill is this three-hectare plot of Cadillac ragtop: power everything (steering/brakes/windows/locks/seat/top), smooth silver paint that offends me less here than it does on just about any modern SUV, and the sheer acreage of the thing lets everyone else in traffic that you’ve arrived, even if you’re still driving.

Lot F122, 1971 Ford Torino convertible

Occasionally, I miss the thuggish brutality of my old Mercury Montego, the one I got to build up in the ‘90s and early ‘00s—with its Cleveland power and steamroller tires. Occasionally, I miss the opportunity to put the roof down like I could in my ’64 Dart GT, the car that would replace it in my fleet; winters here in the Southwest are prime convertible time. This 1971 Ford Torino convertible is essentially both cars rolled into one: unrestored, with two-barrel Cleveland power under the hood and a top that folds down, the windshield banner proclaims that it’s one of 34 built—though how those numbers break down is unclear. It’s not even a GT, but that wouldn’t bother me. Neither does the mild road rash on the leading edge of the hood.

Now and again, your car’s tires lose air. Just a pound or two here and there. If you have an air compressor in your garage, it’s probably heavy and needs plugging in; if you don’t, you’ll need a pocket full of quarters and a nearby gas station, assuming your tires aren’t so flat that they’ll get damaged if you run on them.

Not long ago, when I had some tires to inflate, a friend pressed this little gizmo into my hand: Fix Manufacturing’s Eflator. Literally, it was a gift: It came with neither box nor directions, but was intuitively simple to operate despite this. Not much larger than a cellphone, resembling a walkie-talkie, weighing in at around one pound, and operating on a rechargeable 2000mAh battery, it happily inflated the pneumatic tires on my deflated hand truck in about 38 seconds. A successful test. Not long after, I tasked it with inflating the four flat tires on my long-suffering Model A Ford, just enough to be able to roll it down the driveway for its tow.

Photo by Jeff Koch

Just screw the cap onto the Schrader valve until the join stops hissing, switch it on, and stand back. I pressed the M button (for Manual) on the front of the pump, and let it do its work; you can also set it for a given pressure. The eflator was designed for bicycles and motorcycles, but it worked great on my A. All four of my Model A’s 19-inch Allstate tires were pumped up to 15 pounds, according to the large, clear digital readout on its face, with it taking less than five minutes per tire to get there. Once that ancient, cracked rubber was sufficiently inflated, I rolled the A down my mother-in-law’s driveway to await its tow, and the pump itself slipped back into the glove box in my van. There is a rubber sheath covering the connection between the pump and the hose; do not remove this, as the join between pump and hose gets really hot. The pump itself remains cool enough to touch during operation.

Photo by Jeff Koch

Where the eflator failed was when I tasked it with something it was not designed to do: entirely inflate a car tire. When the Vice Grip Garage charity-auction Silverado had a flat, oversized off-road tire after months of sitting in a Phoenix storage unit, I thought I’d give it a shot. Without recharging after my hand truck or the four flat A rubber bands, we made it to about seven and a half pounds of pressure—enough to get it out of the storage unit and onto the waiting transporter—before the batteries simply gave out. So, even in its failure, the unit still succeeded. Had I been so equipped, I could have recharged the unit via its USB-C port. The money spent on it could pay itself back quickly in an emergency, and it will live in most glove boxes or consoles unobtrusively. It comes with a one-year warranty and a nylon carry bag.

Fix Manufacturing sells the Deflator directly from its site for $99.95. We found similar battery-powered tire inflators selling on Amazon in the $40 to $50 range.

[I Love This Tool reviews are not sponsored and are the result of Hemmings Motor News’s staffer’s hands-on experience with tools they purchased themselves. Hemmings Motor News may earn commissions from referrals to products listed on Amazon.com.]

Inaugural car auction concludes

The debut of Kodner Galleries’s first-ever Exotic Cars Auction, featuring the collection of the late Barry Amstell, took place last week with more than $4 million in total sales. On November 6, two dozen cars, three motorcycles, and some petroliana, automobilia, memorabilia, and a mini-Corvette were all a part of the sale.

The star of the day was a 2005 Ford GT with only 148 miles on the odometer, which found a new owner for $401,500. The GT was powered by a 5.4-liter supercharged DOHC V-8 mated to a six-speed transmission. It was the opening lot and top American car to sell that day as it was purchased new by Amsdell from Maroone Ford in Delray Beach, where the GT was displayed in his commercial garage with minimal miles put on it. It also came with extras including an owner’s manual and a car cover.

Other highlights included a highly coveted 1963 Corvette Sting Ray with the split rear window in red raking in $181,500, a 1965 Ford Shelby G.T. 350 selling for $330,000, a 1981 Back to the Future replica DeLorean reaching $90,200 and the top sale, which was a 1965 Shelby AC Cobra (pictured), generating $814,000.

Full results from Kodner’s Exotic Cars Auction are now available here.

Magnus Walker exhibit

Celebrating the 10th anniversary of the Magnus Walker documentary “Urban Outlaw,” the Petersen Automotive Museum held a special gathering to unveil its limited-time Urban Outlaw exhibit from its Legends of the Vault Gallery. Walker has become a well-known Porsche builder and collector while finding fame in building the Serious clothing brand as well as a career in real estate and filmmaking.

The exhibit features 10 cars and a series of objects personally picked by Walker including his red, white, and blue Porsche “277.” He acquired the car – a 1971 911 T – at the Pomona Swap Meet in 1999 and he transformed it to a 1973 RS replica lookalike by adding flares, a ducktail spoiler, and some striping. After becoming race licensed, he became known as 277 (his birthday 7/7/67 with 277 the only number available) and he would unleash the Porsche at Laguna Seca, Willow Springs, and the Las Vegas Speedway among others. The low-budget build rolls on 15 x 7 and 8-inch Outlaw wheels with Hoosier 225/50/15 tires.

Other cars and memorabilia that will be available for viewing are his 914 art car, his 1976 Porsche 930, and his co-designed Nike SB dunks. The exhibit will run until January 31, log onto petersen.org/outlaw for more information.