1966 Ghia 450SS

In the 1960s, a few of the remaining custom coach builders continued to demonstrate their ideas and skill with a number of one-off concepts, using a  production-based chassis on the speculation that they could sell the design. These cars were displayed  at the major auto shows in Turin, Geneva and Paris, hoping to attract lucrative commissions from a manufacturers, as well as sales from the wealthiest private clients. Ghia displayed the Fiat G230S Coupe, based on Fiat's 2100 sedan chassis at the 1960 Turin show.

 Burt Sugarman working as a salesman at a Beverly Hills Import car dealership, owned by Johnny Carson and some other heavy weight producers (before Burt himself  became a major producer) saw the Ghia-bodied Fiat G230S Coupe on the cover of the latest Road & Track and was so enthralled with the modern lines by the then young designer Giorgetto Giugiaro.  He contacted Ghia in Turin. Sugarman convince Ghia to build a limited-production convertible based on the Fiat design. Sugarman wanted a car with American mechanicals with a powerful V8 engine. The complete drive-train of the Plymouth Barracuda Formula S was chosen. He then formed a new company, Ghia of America. This resulted in the 450 SS and the car was branded as a Ghia. Only 52 cars were built. This is one of the alleged surviving 26.

Driving the Ghia 450SS.

 I first drove one in 1972, I too had loved its looks, although at this point and time designs were moving in the short trunk long nose direction. You can not argue with the room and comfort provided by this car in comparison to some of its other contemporaries. There was secure feeling knowing that  mechanical parts could be found at every gas station in North America. Mechanical parts for some exotics in those days could cripple the car for months.  That out of the way I shrugged it of my list due to the automatic transmission. The great sound from the engine was not backed up by great acceleration. It was not what I expected of an Italian built car. I reminded my self it is a Barracuda in a real nice Italian suit. I can appreciated now much more than my speed crazed 20 year old version.

A Fishy Story Or How Plymouth Got The Jump And Lost The Race To Ford.

By Miguel Caparros

The 1964 1/2 Ford Mustang was the first Pony Car. Chrysler Plymouth did their best to try to steal the thunder of the April New York Worlds Fair Introduction, by releasing the Plymouth Valiant Barracuda on April first, two weeks before the opening of the Fair. Chrysler did a great job incorporating the large glass fast back onto the mundane Plymouth economy car and actually created a niche for the car.  It was not until 1965 with the introduction of the "S" package that the Barracuda was actually taken seriously as a performance car. Plymouth was ahead of the curve in SCCA Road Racing and the Barracuda was always in the running in the early Trans Am Series.

It was not until the 1967 introduction of the second generation A body Barracuda that the car was taken seriously by the enthusiast. With a truly fresh design and the addition of a coupe and convertible to the fastback, sales were brisk but nothing in comparison to the Mustang and the Camaro Firebird duo from GM. For such a low production numbers, Chrysler gave its buyers every thing from the legendary 225 six to the ground pounding 2 four barrel 426 Hemi V8.

In my opinion the best balanced of all the "Cudas" was the1968-69 340 powered fastback. Find a nice one of those with the S package, a "6 pack" intake and carburetors, some modern tires and suspension and you would have a butt kicking very usable street, track and show car. Although the 3rd generation of cars with the big block power are very celebrated today. The second generation A bodied cars were the most graceful with well designed lines with little or no gimmicks.

1970 saw the introduction of the 3rd generation Barracuda along with its brother for Dodge, the Challenger. By far the most aggressively designed of all the pony cars, they were also the biggest. The need for space for the big block motors led Chrysler to build their new Pony cars on the "E" platform shared with the full size Belvedere and Coronet. In racing Dodge and Plymouth Super Bird aero cars were the cars to beat in NASCAR and on the drag strip that duty fell to the Cuda, and Challenger. In 1970 the hottest racing series was not NASCAR, it was the SCCA's Trans Am Series. With the win on Sunday Sell on Monday mind set all the manufacturers had official and un-official road race teams. The crowds were huge with some venues having as many as 70,000 attendees. The #48  Plymouth Cuda AAR (All American Racing) with Dan Gurney, Sweede Savage and Sam Posey. A friend of mine bought the ex Dan Gurney/Sweede Savage car and I had the opportunity to flog this car at Infineon Raceway (formerly known as Sears Point, California) My first reaction was, "my god, this thing is huge" and that it was. It felt wider than any thing I ever drove on  road course and only exceeded when I drove Ken Epsman's 1963, Mercury Marauder with no power steering. Check out Sam Posey's Road & Track article of his reunion with the sister to the car I drove and his original 1970 race car.

Tell Us About Your First Car

By Miguel Caparros

Strangely enough I have not put on paper much about my first car. It was 1968, I was attending Plymouth High School in New Hampshire. I had my learners permit at 14 and could not wait until my 16th birthday to legally get on the road with out an adult. Your past rules your future and mine was thick with European car influences. Among those that influenced me was my apprenticeship teacher,Claude Meder who was an ex works driver for Peugeot, Renault and Dyna Panhard, also my fathers rally tested Peugeot 404 made me want one of my own. I wanted a car that was up to the challenge of the back roads of rural New England, a young man's dreams of the Monte Carlo Rally or the East Africa Safari Rally. I was destined to race with the best, so I needed a world class car to cut my teeth on. Besides my father's 404 a few VW's there were not many foreign cars in central New Hampshire, except for this grey Peugeot 403 that I would see in town every so often. One day I approached the driver of the car and asked him if he was interested in selling it. The answer was yes, as anything he drove was for sale, he was the owner of the local junk yard in Plymouth. The car was a 1959. It ran and shifted well, the sun roof worked and it had all the things a proper New England car has, rust holes here and there but for the most part it was in good shape. The 4 on the tree confounded my friends and the American hot rodder in me wanted to convert it to a floor shift. The French must have had a very serious problem with hub cap theft as all of our French cars had caps that bolted on to the center. $125.00 dollars exchanged hands and I now owned the Junk Mans Car. First thing I did was to take it home and clean it. After I washed it I started to polish the paint with compound. The grey chalky color came off on the polishing cloth and below was a light green color with some great shine.  All the bright trim on the Peugeot's was stainless steel and after I polished all the trim and bumpers it was another car altogether. The summer of this car was full of adventures and happy times that are still fresh in my mind, "give or take a lie or two".

Confessions Of A Motor Head, To Dartmouth In A Mini

by Miguel Caparros 

Miguel Capaross Photo

My friend Leslie, Who I lost touch with for a long time, reminded me recently of the Austin Mini I had in high school. It was a Countryman woody wagon, Red in color. I bought it for $35.00, the price of the Sears battery just installed by the previous owner. The details of how I came to buy it or who it was I bought it from are gone from my memory. It did not run when I bought it, a good tune up and that I was able to get the fuel flowing, got the car running well enough to get me to school. I was already well established for the unusual cars I had during high school the mini was just another chapter. 

The first adventure with the Mini was A road trip to Dartmouth form Plymouth to meet some girls at the “BIG GAME”. Bob. Rick and I managed to survive the game and not get caught doing the things that high school boys and girls do. All of the post game traffic was clear and we headed home. It was about 5 miles out of Dartmouth that at a stop sign I experienced some difficulty finding a forward gear. After much stirring of the gear shift lever I managed to get it into 2nd and get rolling. I kept my fears to myself as the shift into third failed and I was able to muscle the lever into 4th. About 10 miles later another stop sign. I was in a sweat, as I came to the stop and tried down shifting with no results as we came to a stop. All the stirring, banging and cussing was not helping to find a gear. Forward motion stopped right then and there, not even half way home. 

Now you are saying, breakdowns happen, it should not be a big deal to hitch a ride home or call some one to pick us up. The circumstances dictated otherwise. Bob was nicely pickled but functional, Rick was slurring a lot, and I was not supposed to have taken the car out of town. As I was about to tell the boys to get out and push, I found reverse! I was able to get the car turned into the direction of home and I drove from there on in reverse, the engine screaming as flat out all it would go was 25mph. All was almost right in the universe for a brief time until we got pulled over, still short of our goal but close enough where my short life should not be snuffed out by the wrath of my dad. We were just 5 miles outside of the town line, Bob and Rick now appeared sober and I told the Officer that I could call home and get a ride. Ha! From the house where we came to a stop in front of, the lady of the house was kind enough to let me use the phone. I called home knowing no one was there as dad was in New York. I faked the conversation for the officer telling him that dad would be on his way. Once he was out of sight I started the Mini once more and drove another 8 miles or so when the engine died. We were out of gas, out of time and out of sunlight. But… we were inside of the Town limit. We got out and hitched a ride home. Survived to get into trouble another day.

Confessions of a Motor Head. The Cop And The Brownies

My friend Leslie who moved back to where we grew up in Plymouth New Hampshire sent me a recent picture of my old Texaco Station. We were there but a fleeting moment in our lives, yet I have great memories from that brief moment in time.
I remember one night a VW Micro Bus pulled in, all painted up with rainbows and peace signs. A young hippie couple with three young children got out of the Bus. The engine sounded real sick, oil and smoke were pouring out out the back. I took a look at it and saw a hole in the side of engine. The Bus would go no further. The couple had just taken over the Jack o Lantern Motel north of town and would not have any money for e few months until the crop came in. Neal and I agreed to fix up an old 36 hp engine I would supply the know how and the Mike, the Hippie would provite the labor. He could pay us for parts after the crop came in. We finished the work in about a week of. Mike would come in after his chores were done at the motel and the farm to work on the engine. It was late on a Friday night that we saw him off with the newly refurbished engine. Early October on a nice sunny New England fall Saturday, at about noon, the Bus pulls into the station. The whole family is out for a drive and they came to pay their bill and brought into the gas station 3 huge trays of Home made Brownies. We had recently started selling fuel to the Plymouth Police Department since we were the only station in town that was open late, they started to give us some of their fuel business. 
It did not take us long to figure out that pumpkins were not the only crop brought in and everyone that had a brownie had the giggles, Neal was in low orbit. At about 3pm a Rookie Officer was there to fill up the cruiser before starting his shift, he came into the office to sign the charge and saw the Brownies. He put down the pen and grabbed 3 of them and headed out the door stopped in mid bite turned back in and grabbed two more. About an hour later I had to run an errand and took the then new Plymouth bypass. I saw the officer by the side of the road with his lights on and it appeared he had pulled over some one on a bicycle. 45 minutes later I was coming back and the car, with the officer sleeping with the cruisers lights still blazing, were still in the same spot. I stopped behind the cruiser, got out and walked up to the cop cars window. There was the officer sitting perfectly still passed out, two of 5 brownies remaining in the seat next to him. I reached across the seat and grabbed the remaining Brownies and noticed his ticket book, I took a quick glance and and saw that he had given the bicyclist a speeding ticket for 85 MPH. If I recall you had one of those Brownies too.