If you've read this far, you're probably starting to realize that I'm a diehard Mopar man. No use denying it, it's true! I dunno, something about underdogs in general has always appealed to me. And I've always gotten darned good service from Mopars; I can't recall a single one that I'd be willing to call a "lemon"! <shrugs> So, while I like Chevys and Pontiacs and Ramblers and the odd import.. heck, even a few Fords <grin>, I stick with what works for me.
The '68 Road Runner was a bit expensive to call a beater; I ponied up $400 and a set of Cragar rims that I didn't have any need for. It was a medium bronze color, and had a 383 cu. in. 4-barrel with automatic trans. It was not the original 330 hp Magnum motor, but rather the 300 hp version. Probably came out of a Polara wagon, or something. Whoever did the work was a real butcher. Many wires were cut, and rather than being soldered back together, were merely twisted and taped. I found numerous loose and/or incorrect fasteners, and so on. The car came with humungous N50 Mickey Thompson tires in the back, and Gabriel Hi-Jackers, which had to be inflated to 100+ psi to allow the tires to clear the fenderwells. Once I ditched the N50's for a set of G60's all around, and corrected the worst sins of the last "mechanic", it turned out to be a real decent car. I drove it for about a year, and actually made a profit when I sold it. And let me tell you, that's a rare thing for me!
Now, it occurs to me that I can get double duty from this page. In addition to the '68 Road Runner, I also owned a '68 Belvedere. That was a few years after the Road Runner, and my acquisition of it was a real can of worms. It was owned, theoretically, by a divorcee that my brother-in-law had taken up with. Problem was, she didn't have a title. I "bought" the car for no money down, with the understanding that money would change hands only when she placed the title in my hand. In the end, I drove the car all winter.. and she never did come up with a title! I returned it the next spring, only slightly worse for wear, and walked away from the deal. Which was too bad, really, as I would have liked to've hung on to it.
It was a pretty cool car; a 2-door coupe with the somewhat rare (for a B-body) 273 cu. in. small-block and automatic trans. It was a medium green, had a good interior, and the body was fairly straight, though it had a big dent in the rear bumper. It came with a phenomenally aggressive set of snow tires, and the three 80-lb. bags of salt I carried in the trunk and the gentle yet torquey power delivery of the 273 resulted in a car that was pret' near impossible to get stuck. It was one of the best winter cars I ever had!
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