Race & Rods: Steel Dreams

By Paul Kennedy

A friend and I were recently discussing when and why we had become car guys. I had no real reason, since my dad and his circle of friends were not really car guys. I do remember watching the Ed Sullivan Show, mostly so I could watch the Chevrolet and Lincoln-Mercury ads. In any case, I have the car virus, and no cure is wanted. Our discussion also touched on formative car moments, and I shared my top ones.

In high school, at Burnaby Central, we used to watch the cars leave before we went home for lunch. One particular Grade 12 guy named Bob showed up with a red, two-door hardtop, four-speed, fuelie Chevy Bel Air. He pulled out onto the highway in front of the school, and proceeded to smoke the tires for about one hundred feet, without the car even sounding like it was working. Both Bob and that car were the essence of cool to mere Grade 10s.

In 1969, my friend Tom bought a brand new Dart Swinger 340 4-speed. It was dark green metallic, without the bumble bee stripe, had a black bench seat interior and body-coloured steel wheels with dog dish hubcaps. That was one of the nicest sounding small blocks I had ever heard, and it also loved to rev. It reminded me of the Chevy fuelie engines of the early sixties - angry and sudden.

When I was a student at SFU in 1972, I often took the bus. Thus I was waiting in the bus area on a beautiful summer day when a guy in a red split-window Corvette stopped and asked me for directions to a place on Kingsway in Burnaby. I explained how to get there, and added that my home was on the way. He offered me a ride, and I spent the next half hour trying to take it all in. He had bought the car for about three grand, and was going to ship it to Australia, where he was sure it would bring fifteen grand. Fast, 4-speed, low and nimble, I just couldn’t imagine wanting to sell it.

In 1973, a friend of mine in Richmond owned a 1970 LT-1 Corvette. I cleverly parked in his mom’s driveway, so that by the time he arrived back, my car was blocked in by his mom’s car. I was supposed to pick up my wife from her school, so Lorne said, take the Vette. I will never forget the sound of that angry small block, or the crazy acceleration it gave that 1970 Corvette. Running that thing up through the four gears was like a time warp, it was that quick.

Later that year, I got a ride with a guy from work in his Mustang. Little did I know that it was a yellow, black striped, 1969 Boss 302. He decided to give it a good run in first, and my brain couldn’t really process the 6,800 rpm shift to second until it was over. Not much later, I was visiting with a friend of mine on his night shift at a Shell station on Canada Way near Deer Lake. In came a yellow, 1969 Z-28, complete with the Zoom clutch decal in the rear window. I went out to talk to the owner while he filled up, and he offered me a quick ride. As soon as I was belted in, we moved nicely out onto Canada Way (it was about 2 am), then he decided to get on it. Yikes, another 6,800 rpm first-second shift, and a long pull ‘til we slowed down at the top of second. Both of those 302s sounded sweet, and obviously liked to rev, quickly. Colour me stunned!

Fast forward to 1987, when we lived in Port Coquitlam, B.C. Near us was a small garage, run by a gearhead and his younger brother. One Saturday as I was walking to the local store just past the garage, I noticed the back end of a black, 1974 Pantera, with the hatch open. Inside the back, Jake was working on the 351 Cleveland engine. When I inquired, he said he was replacing the valve springs. I asked how long that would take, and if he was then planning to road test it. He said to come back in an hour, and I did. We pulled out of the garage and headed quickly uphill, but after only a half-block he pulled over. He said it felt “soft,” wiggled the gated shifter, laughed and said, “no wonder… it was in third!” In first gear, the Pantera was a rocket. Now I knew what tunnel vision meant.

In 1988, a friend of mine bought a black-on-black T-Bird Turbo coupe. On a particular weekend in the spring of 1989, he was going to the interior of B.C. for a couple of days, so he gave me the keys to the Bird for the weekend. Yes, he had lost his mind. In any case, I took it for a quick trip around my city. After a couple of first and second gear blasts, I actually pulled over, popped the hood and double checked that there were actually only four plug wires. The way it pulled in first and second had made four cylinders seem very unlikely. Nice job Ford!

In 2009, I had the chance to drive a NASCAR Chevy at New Hampshire International Raceway under guidance from the Petty Experience guys. The 358 small block and straight-cut gear four-speed make sounds you cannot believe. It revved to 6,200 rpm with no problem, and moved the car with authority. A great experience, one not to be missed.

There’s my tale. Even now, when I’m behind cars at stop lights on cool nights, my eyes always check for dual exhausts, then for the sporadic back and forth at the exhaust tips indicating a “good” cam. I hope I’m never cured of this virus.

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