CHAPTER 2:

RODE HARD, PUT AWAY WET

I’ve driven around the country for years, investigating “barn finds,” “garage finds,” what have you. Inevitably, there is another car to be discovered, and another one after that. It might be a ’32 Ford hot rod or a 1970 Hemi ’Cuda. You never know what you’re going to find—and I’ve found a little bit of it all! But a single thread connects these discoveries: the cars were not recent additions to the fabric of the owners’ lives. Usually, the people have owned the cars for decades. Best of all is that there is always a story that explains the “why” of their long ownership of that resting hot rod or ’Cuda.

Routinely I drive into Wisconsin where my family has a summer home. I try to take a different route each time heading up there. On one of my trips, I saw a Quonset hut that had a handful of old cars sitting out front. Pulling in and talking with the owner, he showed me his 1969 Dodge Super Bee—an original 383 big-block—that he has stored on a lift for years.

I had heard from a reader of my Hot Rod magazine column that his brother-in-law had a few interesting cars hidden in a barn. I’m not one to pass up old cars in a barn, so I headed out and shot an original 4-speed 1968 Camaro SS 396 convertible as well as a 1960 MGA. They had both been sitting since the early 1980s.

I let people know that I’m curious, and the approach has allowed me to see many incredible vehicles that are usually shielded from strangers’ eyes. I have learned that people don’t respond well to unsolicited offers to buy a car. As we have already seen in this book, people will open up when they understand that the visit is about a story, rather than a transfer of title.

Stories. Think back to the time when these cars were new. All those years ago, a car meant freedom. You got your driver’s license and suddenly nothing stood in your way. You had crossed a threshold separating the few miles available to you on your bicycle from the ability to go anywhere. If you wanted to drive across the country, you could do that. If you had to go to the store for milk, you could do that, too.

In 2013 I traveled Route 66, finding cool old Americana along the way. While exploring a small town, I found this 1970 Plymouth GTX in a repair shop in Texas. A 440, this specimen was owned by the shop owner’s brother. The shop owner gladly stored it for his brother until he was ready to work on the car again.

There is a gentleman in the northeast part of the country who has a ton of vintage vehicles hanging around. This 1955 Dodge Royal Lancer was driven for a short period of time, then tucked away behind this bus for a future project.

This 1969 Plymouth Barracuda was no lowly slant-six model, but a rare big-block, and it even runs. It had been put away because of other obligations, and now sits among the hot rods.

Not something you see very often. This 1962 Plymouth Fury was not one of the rare factory Max Wedge race cars of the day, but a good tribute. Once a running, driving car, it has sat for years in the corner of the barn.

If you wanted to have a drag car, this was one of the best options. This 1965 Dodge Coronet was a post car, making it lighter and stronger for racing. This ’65 still had its original 1970s-inspired paint job on it, and looked like it could be cleaned up and taken out to the drag strip any time!

One of the hottest “small” cars of the Muscle Car wars was the Dodge Demon, produced for only two years under that name. It could be built with a hot 340-ci small-block V-8. This is an original 340 Demon, sitting in the barn and waiting someday to be brought back out into the sunlight.

The same gentleman had a few barns scattered around his property. This 1947 Dodge Business Coupe was driven into the barn years ago and hasn’t been out since. Like many of the others, it looks like it could be brought back to life with little work.

Sitting on a two-post lift for who knows how long, this 1966 Dodge Charger dangles in the air. It had been there so long that it would be a serious chore to move all the parts underneath to even be able to lower the car. But at least the mice can’t get to it!

Cars had an almost mythic presence in people’s lives, and for many guys and girls, cars are what defined them. It didn’t matter what sort of car—only that the young owner was the car and the car was the owner. You still hear stories about people recalled as “Frankie with the ’Vette” or “Nick with the Charger.” Some of the cars evolved into myth and legend. To the people that hung on to their cars for many years, the machines were tangible parts of their pasts, a link they never lost.

Usually, though, people marry and find jobs. The hot rod is relegated to the garage. It may come out for the occasional car show, or perhaps for a few runs at the track. Generally, more important things come up and hobbies are pushed further away from the centers of our lives. Eventually, a car might become a shelf to store cans of paint and tools. But the car still exists. It isn’t gone. It hasn’t been lost to time. Sitting there in the garage or in the barn, it is a direct link to an earlier, different time, back before kids and the mortgage.

A old hot-rodded 1966 Dodge Coronet sits among its brothers in the barn. A well-warmed-over 440 sits between the fender wells, and an air cleaner sits above the hood. This thing must have been a terror on the roads.

Here is the quintessential ‘50s-era hot-rodded vehicle. This late-’50s Dodge features scallops, a variety of colors, and even a custom grille. You couldn’t miss this thing going down the road!

In a nearly closed junkyard in Wisconsin there was one barn left that had a handful of cars. This Rambler from AMC was tucked in the back, protecting the barn and all its dusty memories.

Something you don’t see every day—a Nash Metropolitan, driven into the barn of an old junkyard years ago. It hasn’t been touched since, and though it needs a bit of work, the car is nearly stock and ready for restoration.

When going through an old barn in an old junkyard, you don’t expect to find a very rare electric vehicle. Yet there it was—a Bradley GTE ELE. An early attempt to make an electric car, I don’t know what sidelined it here. But it looks complete.

Right by the doors of the barn sat a 1966 Dodge Dart GT. The owner of the yard said it ran and drove, though who knows how long ago that was. But the tires were still full of air, and it looked like it could be driven out of there if needed.

In the middle of this garage sat a 1970 Chevelle SS 396 beneath a car cover. This was the daily driver for the family until someone kicked a large dent in the door at a theme park in Florida. It has basically been sitting ever since. It’s probably worth more than a trip to Orlando.

In my travels, I listen to the story of each car, and how a once-prized possession came to sit for 20 or 30 years. You might think that a few stories are repeated over and over: My son grew up and moved away. The car was too expensive to fool with. I guess I just didn’t have the time anymore. And there are stories like those. Most of the tales, though, revolve around the car’s status as a significant part of the owner’s past. Even as the world spins and changes, an owner can still walk to the garage to look at that precious piece of personal history. That person is lucky.

It’s great to see young kids get into cars. This 1968 Dodge Super Bee was saved from the crusher by a young muscle car fan. It had been sitting for a long time, but was a nice car when it was put away.

Another car that was about to be crushed after being put away a decade or more ago. A 1969 Plymouth Road Runner sits forlorn in a field where it was dropped after being saved from the scrapper.

Here an old Ford Coupe sits in the corner, long ago driven into this storage space that was once a department store. It’s been sitting so long the bias ply tires have completely degraded.

It’s great to have an audience who enjoys reading my column in Hot Rod magazine. A reader introduced me to this gentleman, who had a rather unique car. His 350 1969 Chevrolet Camaro SS had supposedly sat on the floor at the Chicago Auto Show in 1968. Unfortunately the owner couldn’t drive it anymore and put it away. Its redline snow tires are still on the back!

Sometimes owners say they will restore the car “someday.” Restoration is rare, but it does happen. Owners can do the work themselves, or they can visit plenty of shops that do classic-car restoration.

The road to restoration isn’t always an easy one. The owner’s world has changed, and the automotive world changed, too. Things are not as inexpensive as they once were. If you don’t want to ruin a camshaft, your older car will need special oil. Mice love to eat up wiring, and fixing that is never cheap. If the vehicle needs serious rust repair, owners discover that bodywork is scarily expensive. Then they get discouraged and the car gets put back in the garage, where it may simply rot.

Showing the craziest setup so far, this Chevelle was a total pro-street build. Big engine, big horsepower, big rear tires—the owner had the car running and was just finishing up some odds and ends when he lost interest in his project. It’s sat in this old department store for over a decade.

I know a guy who has a bunch of great cars stored in the back of an old warehouse. This nearly all-original 1967 Camaro RS convertible is up there on the cool factor, with black paint, black top, and blue interior.

You rarely see Corvettes in a state of suspended animation. This mid-’70s Vette has been sitting here for a long time. The owner has a few other toys and enjoys them more frequently, and so the Vette sits in the corner, gathering dust.

If you imagine Camaros rotting away as much as I do, you often envision a Disco Era model sitting in a field. Not this one—this is an original 1969 Z/28 Camaro. It doesn’t have its original DZ302, but a big-block from a truck. It has been sitting in the yard for a while next to a Disco-era Camaro Z/28. That’s more like it.

Most people associate the 1964 Pontiac GTO as the birth of the proper muscle car. I found this 1968 GTO while driving through Wisconsin. It was sitting in the owner’s backyard next to the kids’ jungle gyms.

The last of the original line of GTO, this 1975 GTO was definitely a looker back in the day, with a shaker hood, red paint, and black vinyl top. Unfortunately time has not been kind to it, and it sat at the side of the road waiting for someone to save it.

More time passes and the car never moves from its spot. The day finally comes when owners know they can’t fix the car, and they sell it, or they sell because they need the money, or they pass away.

The cars that remain are special. So many others were driven into ditches, taken to the crusher, and turned into coffee cans. The dusty survivors represent small parts of industrial and personal history. I always hope the owner will get back to the car, or maybe the car will go to a family member or even a stranger that happened to show up at just the right time. Then the memory can be shiny and whole again, and allow us a glimpse into a world long past.

Drag racers wanted the lightest, strongest cars to burn down the track the fastest. This 1965 Plymouth Satellite is a post car without a roll-down rear window and extra roof support. Unfortunately this one was tucked into the back of a big barn, and the only thing it is racing is time.

This 1969 Plymouth Fury cop car is rather unique. It’s not quite off-the-force fresh, but still has the vintage light bar, among other things. This one has been sitting for a few years at the back of the barn with the ’65 Satellite. They definitely haven’t seen the sun in a long time.

For a fast pickup truck, you need to consider the 1978 and 1979 Dodge Li’l Red Express. Definitely off the wall, this one was driven into the yard who knows how many decades before. The owner will not sell, and so it sits among other cars, just rusting away.

WIDE-EYED IN COON VALLEY

When car friends tell you that you need to come see their barn, assume that the trip is going to be worthwhile. Don’t let years go by. Sooner is better than later.

Roy and Jamie run MegaParts in Coon Valley, Wisconsin, in the center of Mississippi Valley country. They travel to Mopar shows all over the nation, and whenever I see them, they urge me to come see the cool stuff they have stashed away. They rattle off information about a half-dozen rare 1969 1/2 Road Runners and Super Bees. They talk about some Hemi stuff, too. It sounds good—but is it too good to be true? I wondered about that, and I wondered if I really wanted to drive for hours to see for myself.

One spring I finally arranged to make a visit. Roy and Jamie’s place has a main storage building and numerous outbuildings, including a couple of barns and a garage. The main building was just full of wonderful cars. A ’69 Dodge Charger 500 sat near the entrance. For homologation purposes, Dodge built a mere 392 of these, with grille and backlight enhancements designed to reduce drag during NASCAR competition. You don’t often see one.

Across from the 500 was a ’71 Road Runner, and near that were a few Super Bees and ’69 1/2 Road Runners. It was an amazing sight.

OK, that was just the first building. After the roof of one of the barns collapsed, Roy and Jamie moved the inventory around back. This part of the stash included multiple Li’l Red Express Trucks and Road Runners, and even the remains of a ’66 Hemi Charger.

They led me some distance from the main cluster of buildings to another barn where some of the best cars were stored. Hugging one wall were multiple ’69 1/2 Road Runners (I think Roy and Jamie have a thing for them). Way in the back was a 1971 Dodge Super Bee that originated at Mr. Norm’s high-performance dealership in Chicago. And next to that was a pair of cars with the 426 Hemi.

With that, I thought we were all done, but my hosts had one more place I had to see. They rent out a house on their property, and behind the house is a garage. Two more vehicles were inside, but not just any vehicles. I stared at yet another Road Runner, a ’69 with the Hemi; and another Li’l Red Express. At a glance, both appeared perfect. Jamie said that the Express would run with a little work, and the only reason the Road Runner hadn’t moved in years was a minor ignition issue!

We said our goodbyes and I returned to my hotel. I had seen a lot in a short time, and I just sat there in my room, trying to process it all.

THE TIGHTLY PACKED CORONET R/T

I’ve been fortunate because my love of vintage cars has allowed me to make friends all over the country. One of them is Dwight. He lives in Wisconsin and knows about stuff I had no idea existed. He told me about a friend who kept cool stuff tucked away in a barn—Dwight just couldn’t remember exactly what. We decided to mount a barn-find expedition.

As we pulled up to the property, we noted that there was nothing sitting outside—no old cars, no vintage gas pumps, nothing. The owner came out to greet us, and indicated that we should follow him.

The barn sat at the back of a big, grassy field. An old Dodge pickup was just inside the door. I walked around it and saw the real gold: a two-tone ’59 Dodge truck, a 1969 Dodge Coronet R/T, and a 1970 Plymouth Duster.

Dodge based the ’69 Coronet R/T on Charger underpinnings, but slotted it as a slightly uplevel ride (the distinction was similar to the one separating the Road Runner from the GTX). This Coronet was presently without an engine, but when new it had a 440 V-8, with a floor-shift 4-speed trans running through a Dana HD rear axle.

The Duster was very basic car originally powered by the indestructible 225-cid slant six. As for the two-tone truck, it was solid, and still had the original poly block 318.

We climbed all over the cars—and I mean actually climbed, because the barn was tightly packed. Every car needed some serious bodywork. The Coronet’s missing 440 was an issue, of course, and the Duster was in the middle of an engine swap to a V-8.

Dwight and I didn’t buy anything, but you never know about the future. We could always go back!

START THE DAYTONA

Some of my friendships began on Internet car forums. I met my friend Scott that way, and when he told me he had found something I wouldn’t believe, I assembled my expedition gear and headed south. Scott drove his 1970 Plymouth Superbird. I was in my ’09 Challenger. No one was going to miss us as we went down the road.

When we got to the owner’s house, we saw that he had pushed his prize from the one-car garage where the car had sat for decades. It was a two-owner ’69 Dodge Charger Daytona, with just a squish under 125,000 miles on the odometer. The owner said the car had come from a local dealership. He admitted that the Daytona was a real handful to drive—no surprise given the 440 V-8 mated to a 4-speed manual.

In an unexpected moment, the owner admitted that he used to set beer cans on the Daytona’s wing and shoot ’em off with a BB gun! Sure enough, small dents peppered the metal above the rear window.

The fellow washed the car before we arrived, and had hooked a charger to the antique battery. Now we were a bit confused. With nothing more than a “Watch out,” the owner did a real no-no—he dumped a pint of gas into the carburetor! We looked on in shock. I asked the owner’s wife if she had a fire extinguisher. She said, “Why?” I realized that I had never seen a Daytona burn to the ground so I just said, “Uh, never mind.”

After the motor cranked a bit, it started! None of us could believe it. And it even ran reasonably well.

Because the radiator had very little coolant, the owner shut down the motor after a short while. The three of us pushed the car back into the garage. We thanked the owner and said we’d stay in touch.

And we have—and the Daytona is still in that tiny garage.

PLYMOUTH HEAVEN

Driving west out of Chicago, I had passed this St. Charles storage lot many times. Something always caught my eye. This time it looked like a muscle car. When I finally had the time to check it out, it blew away all my expectations.

Luck was with me. The lot was a family business, and the car’s owner worked there. He was more than happy to show me what was stashed out back.

The first prize I saw was a ’68 Plymouth GTX—a nice car by any standard, but particularly desirable because this one came off the line with a 426 Hemi. The owner purchased it, sans engine and transmission, years ago, and left it in his father’s lot for safekeeping.

Near the GTX I found a 1970 Charger R/T—a Super Track Pack car with a 440 and a 4-speed. It was a little rough looking, as though it had been in Hot Rod’s Fastest Street Car Shootout at some time in its life.

Way back along the fence line were another couple of Plymouths. I couldn’t quite make them out from a distance, so I was pleased to discover extremely rare 1970 Road Runners that came with the big 440 six barrel! To find one is extraordinary, but two at once is unheard of.

The last car the owner showed us was not as desirable as some of the others, but rare, nonetheless: A 1970 Plymouth Satellite with a 383 big block. This was a slightly detuned version of the standard Road Runner motor. Buyers who wanted the biggest engines sometimes purchased them in basic cars to avoid high insurance premiums that bedeviled most muscle car owners.

This storage lot sat very close to a major city. Rarities aren’t found just in the country. If you live in the city, something good may be just a few minutes away.