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MI Tests the Crosley ‘Hotshot’

By Tom McCahill

A “warm missile” is one way our English cousins might sum up the new Crosley “Hotshot.” Whatever you call it, though, this brand-new, miniature American sport car should prove a fiery shot in the arm to its big, somber American contemporaries. This new car is something to have fun with and enjoy—definitely not a vehicle to carry crepe at your grandmother’s funeral.

In a talk I had with Powel Crosley, Jr., recently, he told me he was going to take a crack at the sport-car business with the Hotshot. You can take it from me—at the price—$849 at the Cincinnati factory— it’s a very strong bid. It’s the poor man’s M.G. and zings along like a Mix Master version of a Mercedes.

I like Crosley himself because he still speaks to me despite some of the things I have written about his products. It gives me particular pleasure therefore to find myself so enthusiastic about the new Crosley.

This little car, as it comes delivered, will beat the fenders off any stock car of its engine size (44 cu. in.). Stripped down, with headlights, windshield, top and spare tire removed, the midget roadster turns into a racer and takes on a very continental look. At a quick glance, as the Hotshot whizzes down the road, you might readily mistake it for a Cisitalia or even a Ferrari.

Crosley has raised the compression ratio of his engine to 8 to 3. If you want to use the car in road races, you can hop up that ratio to 14 to 1. For such compression, of course, you will have to use gas with a very high octane rating. The engine also sports overhead cams and valving in the best racing tradition. As you know, overhead cams are as usual at Indianapolis as buttons on an overcoat. The engine, in its present standard form, develops 26.5 hp. As the entire rig weighs about 1000 lbs., the engine isn’t so small for this midget.

I drove a stripped-down Hotshot hard for over 200 miles on the parkways around New York City and was immensely impressed. At 70 to 72 mph (honest) I found it held the road remarkably well. When I hit turns at high speeds, I was frankly amazed at the little car’s cornering ability. The combination coil and leaf-spring suspension could be a lot stiffer for racing. Yet, in spite of this, I hit a lot of right-angle turns at 40 and 50 and I got around ‘em in one piece. The short, 83-inch wheelbase, however, can take most of the credit for its cornering characteristics.

The most obvious fault of the new Hotshot, in my opinion, are the 12-inch, baby-carriage wheels—same as those on the older Crosleys. I can’t think of a single thing to recommend them. Small tires, because of their limited surface, run far hotter than large ones, 18 or 19 inches in rim size—a definite hazard if you ever race the car over a long course.

Another reason I don’t like tiny tires on a car of this type is because it limits the car’s usage over rugged terrain. The M.G., for example, with its 19-inch wheels actually is used in England and Africa for open-field races across gulleys, ditches and stump-filled plains. If you tried this with the new Crosley, it would be completely disemboweled in a matter of minutes. The two bucket seats ride only 16 inches above level ground.

The Hotshot is the kind of a small car I would like to take across the fields in the fall hunting. But that would be impossible with 12-inch wheels.

While I’m sawing away at Mr. Crosley’s head, I’ll get my other two objections over fast, so I can get back to being sweet. The gear-shift handle is too far forward and awkwardly positioned for fast-racing shifts. My other complaint is this: The hatch cover-over the engine is secured by a lock anchoring it in the center front. At high speeds this cover vibrates like a Bronxite’s tongue “cheering” an umpire. All during my speed tests I thought the darn thing was going to break loose and separate me from my head.

Mr. Crosley, please add to your car’s looks and the driver’s sense of security by installing a good-looking hood strap in the best road-race tradition. A snappy strap would give your car $500 in extra dash and ease up on the racer’s ulcers. Couldn’t cost you more than a couple of bucks, per car. You’ll be doing everybody a favor, including yourself.

Now back to Tom, the fun-loving Rover boy. How would this poor man’s M.G. come out in a road race—such as the Bridgehampton clambake or the Watkins Glen Grand Prix— if it were pitted against the real McCoy, a British M.G.? Well, if M.G.’s Harry Rummins or Lea Francis’ Dudley Froy were driving Crosley’s Hotshots, they’d give any mediocre driver in an M.G. the worst afternoon of his life. The M.G. has a higher top speed by about six miles an hour over the standard Crosley Hotshot. But the Crosley will come close to matching the fancy British sport car in acceleration. I’m not kidding, either.

The M.G. would beat the Crosley’s brains out on the corners, but I’ll say it again: A Rummins or Froy driving, a Hotshot against an average guy in an M.G. would come pretty close to beating the M.G.

From zero to 50 mph with my extra-economy frame, I clocked the Hotshot at 17.6 seconds. But from zero to 60 it took 28.1 or almost ten seconds for the extra ten miles. Zero to 40 took 10.7 seconds. The Crosley has a flat spot in acceleration between 50 and 60 miles an hour in high. The payoff comes, however, in the time it took me to drive it a half mile from a standing start. This took only 36 seconds flat. I was doing approximately 74 mph at the end of the run.

I made several of these runs and they all were 36.1 seconds; 36.0 and 36.2. In other words, I went from 60 to 74 mph in almost 2 seconds less than from 50 to 60 miles an hour. At Indianapolis in May, the Sports Car Club ran an event which I attended, a race against time, one half-mile from a standing start. I can assure you that several M.G.’s in that race didn’t do as well for that distance.

This little Hotshot is scheduled to sell for less than $1000, delivered anywhere in America. It’s no M.G. in quality or performance, but, remember, it sells for only about 40 per cent of the price of the English job. In my opinion, the Hotshot’s a great little car in which thousands of people are going to have more fun than they have had with a car in years. It’s good-looking and sporty—should be a great favorite with anyone having a bit of an old swash buckle tucked away in them. At the price I heartily endorse Crosley’s Hotshot for having fun, blowing it up, hopping it up or just planting flowers. After all, on the market today, it’s the cheapest production-line form of transportation sporting four wheels. And that, brother, means something these days.

By the way, if you want to see just how much safer modern cars are than cars of this era, check out this video put out by the insurance institute on its 50th birthday. It’s a collision between a 1959 Chevy Bel Air and a 2009 Chevy Malibu. Guess who wins.

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McCahill Sounds Off On Safety

Uncle Tom blasts so-called “safety features” and suggests ten ways makers can cut traffic deaths.

By Tom McCahill

IN THE automobile business right now the topic of safety is as hot as a naked Chinaman in a barrel of tabasco. With various professors fronting for them and spouting statistics by the yard, carmakers in newly-tailored angel suits have set out almost en masse to halt highway slaughter.

Now this is a noble undertaking, the good Lord knows, and I am all in favor of anything that will save even one life on the road. But the trouble is, the safety campaign so far has not shown much evidence of being overloaded with realistic thinking. Maybe there are too many ivory tower thinkers doing the skullwork—and by my definition, based on plenty of close-range observation, a “safety expert” often means just a guy from out of town with a new gimmick.

But at risk of being tarred and feathered by my own definition, I guess I have as much right as the next guy to sound off on this safety kick, having spent more than 50,000 hours behind the wheel of hundreds of automobiles, many of them while working as a test-driver. So here goes.

Let’s start off with the manufacturer since he has swung into high gear screaming about safety features. My beef is that these “safety features” tend to lull the public into a false sense of security. And meanwhile the manufacturers are failing to do a lot of things which they could do and ought to do if they really want to cut down accidents and save lives. For instance, in the new car Owner’s Manual the manufacturer should emphasize, with pictures and easy-to-understand words, that this car —just like every other car—will have far slower pickup as weight is added in the form of passengers or luggage. We pointed out this simple but important fact on these pages almost ten years ago —but here goes again.

Take the biggest cars we have, with the biggest engines. Their 30-60 mph time can fall off anywhere from 25 to 40 per cent when two or three extra passengers are in the car. Unless you point this out to the owner he may have no way of knowing that the car he drives alone, five days a week on business, will become a death trap when he tries to pass a line of cars on a narrow highway on the weekend, when the weight of his wife and two in-laws has been added to the car’s load. With smaller cars this danger is even more acute. In my opinion many a serious accident has occurred because an ignorant driver did not realize that his car lost an amazing amount of its passing ability when he loaded it with additional weight. The safety boys ought to point this out, in type THIS BIG, and the Owner’s Manual is a good place to do it.

Another place where the manufacturers fall down on the job is in their recommended tire pressures. The maker of one huge car I tested recently still recommends 24 pounds of air all around, though this low pressure will make the car extremely bobbly and tough to control in an emergency at high speed. All stock car race drivers carry at least 50 pounds of air when racing these same cars. The manufacturer recommends 24 pounds because he wants his car to have the softest ride on the block. The Owner’s Manual should recommend two pressures: one for high-speed cruising, the other for short slow runs. In my years of testing I can recall a number of situations where most likely I’d have been killed at such low pressures but I squeaked by because I always carry at least 32 pounds, which gives me more bite and control.

Here we run into another school of thought which is extremely inaccurate: the hard-as-a-rock suspension philosophy. I’ve read dozens of articles indicating that all we need to make American cars safe is to give them rock-firm suspension similar to that of a Grand Prix Ferrari. Let me point out to the advocates of this school that in most cases suspension on American cars is too soft but that flint-hard competition suspension can be very dangerous too.

The suspension on many American cars has been improved immeasurably in the- last few years (since McCahill started beating the drums—Editor), and in some cars it is pretty close to perfect for our kind of roads. It may come as a shock to some of my readers to learn that over a rough course which includes dips and ruts, such as the Daytona Beach-and-road course, many standard American cars could murder some of the harder-sprung sports cars. In fact, most of those sports cars would be off the road in’ droves after hitting those obstacles while the American cars kept right on going. Mercedes has the right idea. The 300, for instance, is not sprung like a rock; its suspension is a nice compromise between an ice cube and melting ice cream.

Door latches have been given the full treatment, publicity-wise, during the last year. It is a well-known fact that a large percentage of fatalities in highway crashes has resulted from doors popping open and spewing the driver and passengers out on the pavement. Door latches have been improved—but only slightly. The manufacturers must know this. Doors equipped with the latest safety locks are still flying open on impact and NASCAR (National Association for Stock Car Auto Racing) still demands that the doors of all competing cars must be bolted and strapped shut before racing.

A couple of hunting companions of mine, riding in the latest model of an expensive car that has been featuring safety door locks regularly on television, were smacked broadside in New York City traffic by another car that ran through a red light. Both doors of my friends’ car flew open and both men were hurled to the pavement, one requiring a dozen stitches in his forehead and the other spending some weeks in the hospital with shattered ribs. If that car’s “safety” door locks had held, as advertised, it is doubtful if either man would have been scratched.

In the opinion of NASCAR president Bill France and myself there is only one way to make a real safety door lock. It must be designed like a bank vault bolt, with the locking end sliding into a groove in a steel girder which is part of a roll bar enveloping the entire body. Ideally there should be one of these Mosler-type bolts at both top and bottom, thus keeping the door firmly closed under nearly any impact. Detroit knows how to make such a lock. It would be expensive but it is the only solution to the problem of keeping doors from flying open. No “safety lock” I have seen so far will do this right now.

And here is another real safety feature which the manufacturers could and should provide to cut down unnecessary deaths on the highway: a steel roll bar. In the event of a roll-over the steel top on the latest style four-door hardtop provides no more protection for the passengers than a well-starched bedsheet. Roll bars are the answer. They can be concealed but they should be there. In the crash photos illustrating this article you will note that the drivers of both cars survived these 100-mile-an-hour roll-overs only because the doors were bolted together and because each car had a roll bar built into the roof.

Manufacturers have done a good job recently plugging safety belts (which we have been plugging on these pages for about ten years) but how about an educational program to get the buyers to use them? It should be pointed out that safety belts alone are not enough to prevent skulls from being fractured, faces from being gouged and a number of other unpleasantries. The ideal safety belt is not just a waist belt but a shoulder harness as well. This type of strap keeps the driver from parting his head in the middle on the rear-view mirror.

However, even a well-mounted waist belt is a tremendous advantage providing the driver knows how to use it correctly. The primary function of a good waist belt is to anchor the driver’s or passenger’s tailbone to the seat. This is no insurance that in the event of a sudden stop or crack-up his head won’t snap forward and conk any hardware in the way of his jack-knifing torso. But the Owner’s Manual can teach the driver how to “head for the cellar,” using the belt for a pivot before the roof falls in. The Manual should stress that the belt is a brace but not the overall answer to surviving a crash.

Here are a few more free-for-the-grabbing tips to manufacturers on how to keep their customers alive: Manufacturers should equip all cars with a mercury switch that will turn off the juice automatically when the car goes over, to prevent fire. Another area screaming for improvement is the current battering ram bumpers that have all the cush- ioned give of an anvil. Years ago we made cars with spring bumpers and some with hydraulic shocks that cut down impact violence considerably. And why were these given up? Because they cost a few extra bucks. But I have a hunch the average driver would gladly pay for bumpers that absorb some of the collision shock and help keep his teeth and tonsils separate.

And while I’m on this safety kick let me repeat the plea I’ve made so many times in the past—that manufacturers give more thought to improving out-of-round tires. Every “safety authority” in the business knows as well as I do that those lopsided doughnuts being sold today as “tires” can become extremely dangerous at high speeds when they develop gyroscopic action and can actually throw a car out of control. Manufacturers should tell the customers in plain words about wheel balancing and demand—repeat: demand!—the tire companies sell him perfectly round rubber for his wheels.

I see I just used the term “safety authority.” I recently had a long conversation with one of this tribe—a guy who has been widely quoted and televised as the greatest thing in safety since the invention of the diaper pin. During our talk I discovered this specialist in safe driving rarely does much driving himself, carefully avoids driving in heavy city traffic, never drives over 45 mph and averages less than 5,000 miles per year—just the guy to tell you how to handle today’s jet-propelled rigs on a six-lane turnpike where you’d be accused of creeping at anything less than 70 mph.

In all fairness, he was a first-rate statistician who could quote such fascinating facts as what percentage of highway accidents are caused by bearded men sneezing unexpectedly. Most of his information was based on analysis of police reports and he knew how many accidents involved drivers jumping stop signs, drivers intoxicated, drivers on the wrong side of the road, deaths caused by doors popping open, drivers scalped by sun visors, etc.

I guess all this is important but it is only part of the highway safety picture. When I asked this same character what he’d do if his car went into a slide at 45 mph or started to loop off a gravel road at 70 mph, he didn’t have a thing to offer. All he could suggest was that the driver was going too fast. This is great advice for a guy sideslipping off an icy corner, heading for an oak tree and wondering if maybe he skipped a page in the Owner’s Manual.

What I’m getting at is this: if manufacturers are sincere in their safety efforts— and I think they are—they should hire safety consultants who really know what it’s all about. Sure, university researchers and statisticians are important. But how about calling on the wisdom and know-how of men who drive, men who might not know a slide rule from a popsicle but can tell you what to do when the right front blows at 60 mph or when some gassed-to-the-eyeballs nudnick cuts you off on a rain-slicked turnpike.

A paid safety council of such men as Bill France, Lee Petty, Fonty Flock, Red Vogt and Bill Stroppe, all of whom know about crashes and how to live through them, would do more good than ten regiments of high-domed theorists who never lived through worse accidents than hitting their thumb with a tack hammer.

A council of race men could really make cars safe. Every manufacturer who has cars competing in the stock car circuits today had to hire outside race men to make his cars do their best and stay together while they were doing it. Race men like those named above can tell manufacturers exactly what’s wrong with their crates, how they can be improved and what can be added for more safety on today’s highspeed highways.

In summing up, here are ten sure-fire tips for any car-maker really interested in safety. 1. Tell your customers about the drop in acceleration time when the car is heavily loaded. 2. Give him two recommended tire pressures, for slow driving and for fast cruising. 3. Try for in-between suspension, not too soft, not too hard. 4. Install double door latches designed like bank vault bolts. 5. Install roll bars. 6. Give how-to-use instructions on safety belts in the Owner’s Manual and try to educate the customers into using shoulder harnesses. 7. Install mercury switches to prevent fire after a roll-over. 8. Design bumpers with some spring in them to help absorb shock. 9. Provide true-round tires and demand that tire companies sell true-round replacements. And finally, 10, set up a paid Safety Council of experienced race men to advise on new safety gimmicks and to rewrite the Owner’s Manual so that Elmer Snodgrass of Goosegrease, Idaho, can do more than take his hands off the wheel and cry “Mercy!” when his car goes into a spin.

Material and ideas published on these pages have been robbed, plundered and stolen many times in the past. Here is an open invitation to anyone interested to help himself to all or any part of the tips given above. It’s all up for grabs.

And if car manufacturers are looking for a slogan to spark their safety campaign, they could do a lot worse than borrow that old one from Frank Buck: “Bring ‘em back alive!” •

“…Dr. Porsche’s engineering with such cars as the SSK had the same head-spinning effect as a pipeful of poppy dust to a Chinese playboy.”

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MI Tests the German Porsche

If money is no object and you are looking for a small competition car that’s really loaded with TNT, this is it, our Uncle Tom reports.

By Tom McCahill

THE late Dr. Ferdinand Porsche was the Hopalong Cassidy of the automobile business. For 50 years he engineered mouth-watering cars for generations of big boys to dream about. What Hopalong does for the kids today, old Doe Porsche did for their old man’s old man by building cars with all the intrigue of a Left Bank dive. His fame started back in 1900 with the chassis and power plant of the Austro-Daimler and really came to a boil with his SSK Mercedes and later the famed Auto-Union. Doctor Porsche got more sex appeal on four wheels in a single day than Minsky could cram on a runway in 30 years. To the real gone automotive nut, Dr. Porsche’s engineering with such cars as the SSK had the same head-spinning effect as a pipeful of poppy dust to a Chinese playboy.

‘Before the war he designed the now well-known Volkswagen. This was strictly a political football of the Nazi party and never did get into real mass production until after the war when it was reborn with Marshall Plan dough. During the war years, and for nearly two years afterward while the aging Doctor was in a prison camp, he kept himself alive with ideas for a real gold-plated, luxury competition Volkswagen.

He knew his Volkswagen design was close to perfect for a small inexpensive car. His 50 years of engineering experience were in it and he had licked the bad characteristics that had made man-killers of his rear-engine, Grand Prix Auto-Unions, even though they were among the fastest cars ever built. The Volkswagens quickly proved themselves on these shores after they were introduced by Max Hoffman several years ago (see October 1950 MI).

One of the best compliments I ever heard any car receive was made unconsciously. I was sitting in George Schrafft’s Palm Beach Foreign Motors last winter, shooting the breeze, when a little Volkswagen whizzed by. “That’s Mrs. So and So,” George remarked. “We sold her that job early last fall. She’s never even been back for service. You know, we rarely ever see those Volkswagens again after they’re sold. That’s one job our service department would go broke on—nothing ever seems to go wrong with them.”

This was not said to impress me, it was just part of a casual bull session. George doesn’t make enough dough selling Volkswagens to pay his light bill. His take comes from the Jaguars, Rolls and other big cars he handles. But his offhand remarks were a terrific compliment to old Doc Porsche.

The first Porsche to hit this country arrived a little over a year ago. Early buyers such as Thorne Donnelley and Bill Spear would spend hours bending your ear about the “super deluxe Volkswagen’s” handling qualities. Like the Volkswagen, the early Porsche had a small 1 1/10-litre engine (about 67 cubic inches), only the Porsche engine was a much more refined and expensive piece of machinery. Instead of the heavier Volkswagen block, aluminum alloy was used and this expensive type of construction was utilized throughout the whole car. Some months later, on the demand for more torque, the engine size was boosted to 1-1/3 litres (about 81 cubic inches) and today the Porsche is a full 1-1/2-litre job which makes it a baby tiger due to the car’s light weight of about 1,600 pounds.

The real automotive connoisseur took to the Porsche from the opening gun although the casual sports car fan was backed off by the immodest appearing price tag. The 1-1/2 litre convertible costs approximately $4,500 and the hardtop coupe about $300 less. Of course, this is small change in the Ferrari league but it is still expensive money for a car not much bigger than the average-size bathtub.

Max Hoffman, America’s largest foreign car distributor and Porsche major domo on these shores, personally demonstrated a few Porsche tricks at the Sports Car Club of America’s Equinox Hill Climb last October. Max literally creamed the boys with a stock Porsche despite the worst conditions under which such an event was ever run. Through snow and ice he beat his closest Class 4 rival by more than 18 seconds in the 2.7-mile event. Actually he made far better time than many of the bigger cars in the unrestricted class, including XK 120s and Aston-Martins.

Later at Palm Beach Shores in December, Max in a competition Porsche put on the wildest driving demonstration ever seen in a road race in the U. S. Not content merely to trim the opposition, Max lapped the field and was on his way to the biggest one-sided class victory ever recorded in a sports car race when something went wrong with the cooling system air adjustment and the car was forced to retire. Though Max didn’t win this race, the connoisseurs were bug-eyed at the way the Porsche whipped by blown MGs, HRGs and their ilk. At the Vero Beach 12-hour race, two Porsche coupes gave a remarkable endurance performance. For the whole 12 hours these two 91-cubic-inch cars were right on the tail of Bill Spear and Phil Walters, who were driving a 2.3 litre Ferrari. The Porsches were pushing 100 mph on the straights consistently and at the finish they still were going as if the race had only started. There could be no doubt left in anvone’s mind after the Vero Beach clambake that Dr. Porsche had built himself one hell of an automobile just before he died.

How about it, is the Porsche a good buy? From the stand- point of a true connoisseur who also has a bucket full of loose change, yes. This is a car for the guy who appreciates fine gems, paintings and the best of everything. Frankly, it doesn’t look like the price to the quick eye. There are an awful lot of good cars that can be bought for this kind of scratch. Jaguars, Cadillacs, Allards and Siatas, just to name a few. You can buy faster cars and you can certainly buy bigger cars for this money. But $4,500 won’t buy you a better car even though the Porsche has one drawback, to my way of thinking, and that’s the crash box transmission.

After a few miles in the Porsche I tested, I found that with care you could handle all shifting up and down without double-clutching except to get in the lowest gears from top. It was sort of fun, as it puts the driver on his driving mettle. After a week or so, I feel even the Hydramatic kids would have the handling technique down cold, so perhaps this is only a temporary drawback for the guy who takes pride in his driving.

I won’t go into the virtues of Dr. Porsche’s air-cooled pancake engine as this has already been discussed on these pages before and, besides, the name pancake engine makes my teeth chatter. In the dark days of the depression I had a job for about a year as the head auto electrician for a huge bus company. I worked from seven at night until five every morning and during the winter the company acquired a fleet of pancake buses. Many a snowy night I crawled under these things on the road when the ignition got wet and even though I had genuine built-in hair on my noggin in those days, my head felt like an ice cube most of the time. These damn engines were installed so close to the ground under the chassis that you couldn’t even wear a hat when working on them. A snow pillow, night after night in zero weather, is not McCahill’s idea of a hot time.

The Porsche I tested belonged to (surprise) Briggs Cunningham. It was a well broken-in job with close to 5,000 hard miles on the clock, including a class win at Palm Beach Shores when Briggs drove it to cop the Kiwanis Trophy for cars up to 1500cc displacement. Now, the Porsche has been over here less than two years and during that time it has undergone an almost continuous series of alterations and improvements, including three changes in engine size. The very latest 114-litre Porsche has a beefed-up crankshaft, a hotter cam and additional competition refinements, including a generous chrome plating of many internal parts. The latest 1952 jobs are rated at 65 horsepower and are supposed to wind up to close to 90 in third and have a top speed in high of over 100. Briggs’ car, though only a few months old, was not that hot by a long shot but here’s bow his job shaped up. Zero to 60 took 14.6 seconds. Zero to 30 went 5.3 and zero to 50 took 9.8 seconds. Top speed on a measured mile showed 94.16.

This is fantastic performance for a 91-cubic-inch engine, considering the car’s size though not its weight. The front seat is as big as my Mark VII Jag and there is loads of room for a month’s supply of clothes or three medium-sized midgets behind the seat. The big payoff comes in the way this rig handles and comers. On fast turns and bends the car remains as flat as Stalin’s head. In real right-angle stinkers, old Doc Porsche’s trailing suspension gets it around like a drunk passing a temperance meeting.

As this story goes to press, the sports car characters are reasonably agog over the forthcoming debut of the new Porsche competition roadster, which will develop 75 horsepower and is supposed to hit a top speed of 106 mph. If this job is as good as it sounds, it will murder everything else in Class F, which includes the HRG, Singer, MG and all other cars displacing between 67.1 and 91.5 cubic inches.

The Porsche is a car for the real fancier, the automobile man who demands the best of everything, even in small packages. It’s a car for the guy who pays $1,500 for a Purdy shotgun and $250 for a business suit. And it’s a car for the man who wants the very finest in a class or formula competition automobile.

SPECIFICATIONS

MODEL TESTED:
German Porsche 1-1/2 litre convertible

ENGINE:
4 cylinder, air-cooled OHV pancake-type; bore 3.2 inches, stroke 2.9 inches; brake horsepower 65 @ 4000 rpm; compression ratio 7.2 to 1.

DIMENSIONS:
Wheelbase 83 inches; overall length 152 inches; tread 49-3/4 inches front, 49-1/4 rear; width 66 inches; height 51 inches; weight 1,600 pounds; standard tire size 5.00×16; gas tank 12 gals.

PERFORMANCE:
0 to 30 mph, 5.3 seconds.
0 to 50 mph 9.8 seconds .
0 to 60 mph 14.6 seconds.
Top speed, 94.16 mph

SPEEDOMETER ERROR:
At 60 mph on speedometer, actual speed 57.14 mph

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America’s Fastest Sports Car…’52 CUNNINGHAM

If the U.S.A. ever wins back leadership in international road racing, this is the car that will do it, says Mi’s own auto expert.

By Tom McCahill

THE 1952 Cunninghams have four wheels and a base Chrysler block but aside from this they look no more like the 1951 models than I resemble Fred Astaire on a ballroom floor. The first cars came in for a lot of hard criticism because of their unfortunate showing in the 24-hour race at Le Mans a year ago. But before the year was out, they succeeded in cramming a crankcase full of words down the critics’, throats by running away with the Elkhart Lake and Watkins Glen races. In finishing one, two and four at Watkins Glen, even the sourest observer was forced to admit that they were about the hottest cars ever to run on these shores. And this year the Cunningham is even hotter.

In basic dimensions, here’s how the 1951 and 1952 Cunninghams differ. Wheelbase of the ’51 model was 105 inches. This year’s is 100 on the nose. Extreme width last year was 70 inches, this year 64. Overall length in ’51 was 171 inches, this year 155. The height of 39 inches remains the same. Road clearance now is four inches, compared with last year’s seven. The tread last year was 58 inches and this year is 54, front and rear.

The big pay-off difference, however, is in the weight. Last year the Cunningham without extra tools, parts or fuel weighed approximately 3,400 pounds. This year in the same condition it hits the scales at 2,410, or nearly 1,000 pounds less! It doesn’t take a Pinin Farina or a Ferrari to see why, comparing weight, overall dimensions and added power between the two automobiles, this 1952 Cunningham figured on the morning line to be the car to beat in the big international grind in France on June 14-15.

The 1951 Cunninghams were a long way from perfect in many respects and no one was quicker to admit it than Briggs S. Cunningham himself, their creator and America’s number one sports car backer. With the necessary equipment to run at Le Mans last year’s cars weighed almost 4,000 pounds. They steered badly and none of the three racing entries had even 1,000 miles of break-in running before the race. In spite of this, at the 20th hour of the 24, Phil Walters and John Fitch had their Cunningham in second place, averaging close to 90 mph and doing as much as 153 on the straightaways. A bearing failure, due to excessive heat from detonation caused by the unexpectedly poor official fuel, finally kayoed its good chance of winning and the car limped across the finish line in 18th place at the end of the 24-hour classic. The other two Cunninghams spun out early in the torrential rain that made the turns as slimy as an eel’s belly.

It would have been a lead-pipe cinch to correct the minor steering faults, shave off several hundred pounds of weight and re-enter the same models this year. Many manufacturers would have done just that but Cunningham doesn’t work that way. He was the one who told me that the Jaguar XK 120C (last year’s winner) was just too hot for his current model. The XK 120C had a lot more acceleration and a top speed of close to 160 mph. Because of this, Cunningham figured this year there would be at least a dozen new entries that could top 160 mph, including the new Mercedes team and the Ferraris. Therefore, to make any showing at all meant building an entirely new car from stem to stern and that’s exactly what he did.

The three Cunninghams in the Le Mans race this year, as last, will he powered by base Chrysler V8 engines. After months of experimentation, the new engines developed close to 325 horsepower on the dynamometer as against less than 300 last year. Two of the new entries will be roadsters, as in 1951, and judging from early tests which I witnessed 170 miles an hour seems a conservative estimate of their top speed. They should accelerate from zero to 60 in 6.5 seconds, which is truly spectacular.

The real ring-tailed dilly of the 1952 Cunningham entry, however, is the two-passenger hardtop competition coupe that will be driven by the team’s best drivers. This job was redesigned in my presence by Dr. W.I.E. Kamm, the famed German design engineer of Mercedes and Auto Union, and it has me completely up the well-known tree. Dr. Kamm came to Cunningham’s factory last winter, armed with more charts and graphs on streamlining, based on actual wind tunnel tests, than you could cram into a good-sized truck. At the Cunningham engineering conference, to which I was fortunate enough to be invited, all present stayed with the Doctor for a while in following his elaborate charts. But when he got into the uppermost stratosphere of mathematics, we all dropped off one by one.

A hardtop competition coupe was in the 1952 Cunningham scheme before Dr. Kamm arrived and a clay model had already been completed. This job was similar to the conventional competition hardtop design used by Ferrari, Porsche and others but when Doc Kamm saw it he turned thumbs down and started reworking the clay immediately. The final result is a coupe with an almost flat station wagon back! The rear fenders are drawn out and the whole roof line is a beautiful upside-down, canoe-like piece of streamlining, until you come to the rear roof line. Here it plunges down like the tail end of a truck. Actually, this flat rear section is no bigger in area than the broad side of a portable typewriter case but all of us, except Dr. Kamm, had believed that a flat rear section would create an extreme high pressure area at speeds. This is where Dr. Kamm lost us, in his graphs. According to him the rear design of the fenders, and the general body contour from the windshield on back, will eliminate any retarding high pressure area at the stern. He showed us graph after graph bearing this out but, as I have already mentioned, they were too deep for any of us to follow more than vaguely so he had the ball all the way.

But here’s what impressed us about the Doctor’s mathematics. Unsheathing one of his graphs, he studied the frontal area and general shape of the new roadsters and predicted that with 300 horsepower (which the Cunninghams were then topping on the dynamometer) the roadster should have a top speed of just about 170 mph. This was so close to accurate that when he told us how fast the coupe would go we could hardly argue. Dr. Kamm stated that the coupe, with 300 horsepower, should be able to reach 220 miles an hour, or 50 miles an hour more than the roadster. If the chief engineer of any American company made such a statement, I would have said, “Herman, you’ve got a big hole in your head.” But when the famous Kamm said it, all I could answer was, “Gee whiz.” It was hard to believe that there could be 50 miles an hour difference between the roadster, with its high pressure cockpit area and the super-streamlined coupe, but there it was right on the Doctor’s graph. If he is right, and I sure hope he is, the new Cunningham hardtop should be the biggest sensation in France since the invention of post cards.

It has been apparent for some time that it is just a question of a few years before all race cars, even at Indianapolis, will be closed hard-tops. I believe that by 1957 half the cars at Indianapolis, if not all, will be closed jobs and so will all Grand Prix entries. The open cockpit makes less and less sense, as speeds are increased. Johnny Fitch, who (teamed with Phil Walters) drove the only Cunningham that finished at Le Mans last year, told me he and Phil took an unmerciful beating from the wind which almost ripped the shirts off their backs. Comfort in a long race is of major importance and in an open car at speeds of 150 or more, comfort is just a word in the dictionary. Furthermore, a hardtop with a built-in roll bar is twice as safe as an open car.

The 24-hour race at Le Mans will be over by the time most of you read this and I haven’t got enough rocks in my head to predict what the Cunninghams will (or did) do over there But regardless of how they make out, their builder, Briggs Cunningham, is our only hope of getting the United States back into the international picture with cars of real importance. Ten years ago there weren’t a hundred sports cars on the roads in this country. Today there are thousands. There are many reasons for this great upsurge of interest in sports cars but Cunningham’s superb efforts to create an American version capable of competing with the world’s best has certainly been a tremendous influence on the ever-growing popularity of sports cars in America.

As one result of his pioneering, practically every American manufacturer has been forced to give some thought to the rising popularity of competition cars. Frankly, I don’t believe they really want any part of them and I feel that they consider the sports car bug a first-rate bull in a china shop. The American automobile manufacturer has the greatest money-making formula in the world and he is not going to give it up without a fight. From a pure dollars and cents standpoint, the present state of affairs is ideal. The Detroit boys make an all-round utility chassis that looks just as unhappy with a standard four-door sedan body as it does when saddled up with a so-called “sports convertible” bucket. The winning formula is to make sedans, sedans and more sedans, and make ‘em big and flashy.

Some manufacturers, like Nash, actually have gone into sports car • production in a small way. For this Nash deserves a pat on the back for actively getting on the sports car bandwagon and not bucking it. But cars such as GM’s Le Sabre and the Chrysler K310 seem designed only to make the public think the company is hep to sports car construction. Top Chrysler brass have told me they may very well build a limited number of their experimental cars for the prestige they would gain by doing so. I sat in on a conference with some of Packard’s V.I.P.’s when the subject of should we or should we not build a real sports car was booted around. No decision was reached in my presence although I sure got in my seven cents’ worth as to why they should.

But getting back to the immediate subject of this essay, Briggs Cunningham is building, here in America, the first really fine road car in a generation. True, it’s a competition car now but before the year is out at least a dozen hardtop coupes will be in the hands of the lucky buyers. I, for one, will stick my big bare head out to hear and claim that the new 1952 Cunninghams are perhaps the best sports cars in the world today and the fastest. •

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THE ’56 DODGE

Featuring a unique pushbutton transmission, the new Dodge will be hard to beat in the medium-priced field, reports Uncle Thomas.

By Tom McCahill

THE fan-out of the rear fender line is the big styling change for the 1956 Dodge. Oddly enough, this looks much better in person than in photographs. The hood has been drooped slightly at the nose, a new ornament has been slapped on, and under the hood there is a much larger ram than for ’55.

The biggest news in the Chrysler camp this year, however, is not the upped horsepower but the new push- button-operated transmission. This is mounted in the Dodge at the full left side of the instrument panel and has square buttons similar to many radios with pushbutton tuning. I didn’t think I was going to like this too well but after, one or two hundred miles I was fully sold on the ease of operation. Strangely, this means the first left-handed gear-shifting in nearly 40 years. (Forty years ago many American cars of the Teddy Roosevelt era were right-hand-drive jobs, just as all real English cars for Englishmen are today.) This means that the left hand, fully neglected for four decades, except for occasionally steadying the steering wheel, adjusting your hat or throwing bricks at cops, now has a role to play in driving.

The operation of this transmission is childish in its simplicity. Mounted in a diamond pattern, the top button has a big, fat N on it which stands for Neutral (not Nuts). This must be pushed in before the key starter will work. Going around the diamond clockwise, the next button has a D for Drive. At the bottom of the diamond we find the L for Low and at the nine o’clock position a big R which, naturally, stands for Rutabaga. I repeat once again, I didn’t think I’d like this pushbutton deal but I was wrong. I do.

Bill Newberg, Dodge’s youngish prexy, made the opening kick-off for the Chrysler Corporation’s ’56 season. After suffering seriously from buyer stay-awayitis, Dodge pulled a comeback in ’55 with a line of cars that were considered by many to be the best-looking on the road. Newberg, who came up through the ranks the hard way, from the days he was a Chrysler test driver, realized that one quick punch should immediately be followed by another. In 1955, Dodge had its first taste of volume buyer blood in a long time. And though these successful models were less than ten months old, the 1956 cars were introduced in early October.

Due to the fact that the Chrysler Proving Grounds were tied up by a band rehearsal or an Elk’s clambake before the new model announcement date, a Dodge was shipped to me, at my own New Jersey proving grounds, under the cover of darkness in a plain, un-marked envelope. Mr. P. Whiteman, who is a car nut’s nut, was on hand for the unveiling which took place in my front yard. I will quote the Denver fiddle player’s words as closely as I can remember, after he had made three full laps around the car: “That’s the best-looking fender line I’ve ever seen on an American car.”

Paul was referring to the new flare-up (Flight Sweep) fenders. After another turn or two he announced, “That’s the best-looking American car I’ve seen in a long time.” The car was a three-tone, two-door Custom Royal Lancer and though I attempt to keep my enthusiasms under more control than the Dean of American Windwhippers, I was forced to admit that it is a damn good-looking automobile.

My first test runs took place at night. The instrument panel lighting is extremely pleasing—in fact, almost glamorous. Unfortunately, the instruments are on the small side and not too easy to read, except for the speedometer. Something that impressed me was the quietness of the ride. Inside cabin noise, which means everything from a baritone boom to mouse-like squeaks, were totally absent. The engine noise was practically non-existent and the transmission not only operated smoother than my ’55 Dodge station wagon but didn’t have the God-awful gear scream when running up the rpm in the low end of Drive.

This car corners better and plows less than the ’55. In fact, the rear held so well in my gravel spin corner that when I purposely tried to full-spin it, I only succeeded in getting about half way around. Barreling through hard gravel corners at speed, only the slightest correction was needed to get back on course when it drifted out too far. This is a good road car and therefore a safe automobile.

The full-time power steering is quick and sure but when I first took this car on test, it had a bad front-end shimmy developing at about 55 mph and ending at around 60. The shimmy was so bad it erased all thoughts of any high-speed, running until I had it corrected. Earl Miller, my local Chrysler-Plymouth dealer, went to work on balancing the front wheels which took 7% ounces of lead on one wheel and 9 on the other. Tubeless tires? Phooey! Just make ‘em round and balanced, boys. I can’t help but think how some neophyte buying his first car could get crossed up and in really serious trouble through badly balanced wheels. Even if he never drove faster than the Legal limits, the wear caused by an unbalanced wheel at key points such as king pins, wheel bearings, steering mechanism and even engine support’s, could wear a car out in half its normal time if not corrected.

The performance of this ’56 Dodge has been very noticeably improved and the reason is rather simple to find. The cubic-inch displacement has been raised from 270 cubic inches to 315. This 45 cu. in. addition holds the secret. In spite of adverse criticism from the cloak-and-dagger, windscreen-and-bon- net boys of automobildom, when you want oomph and power you just can’t beat inches (meaning cubic inch displacement) . It is like trying to get the same performance out of a 20-gauge gun that you can get out of a 12-gauge. You can kill ducks with a 20-gauge, and thousands are killed every year with this weapon, but the big 12 can kill them just a little deader and quite a few paces farther away.

Like the 12-gauge gun over the 20, the new Dodge has 12-bore volume and really pays off when digging from a traffic light or getting through a tight squeeze while passing. On the car I tested, the engine was the new Super-Powered Super Red Ram 230-hp kit job, which includes a four-barrel carburetor. (How do you like that fancy nomenclature, “Super-Powered Super Red Ram?” You could kill a duck with that name alone.) This increase has been done without upping the compression ratio abnormally, it being 8:1 in this current world of 9, 9.5 and 10:1.

Also belted by a new 12-volt ignition system, these jobs can do a sizzling 0-60 mph in 10.4 seconds on a fully-corrected speedometer. The speedometer on the car was 11 per cent out at 60 mph. Very few cars will embarrass this job in the getaway and performance departments. Zero to 30 mph took 3.8 seconds; 0-50 was 7.6 and 0-70 was 14.6. If you don’t think this is terrific performance, get out some of your old Mis and check what other cars have done in recent years.

In September on the salt flats a new Dodge broke 306 AAA records, averaged 92.86 mph for 14 continuous days and went a total of 31,224 miles during this time. The competition-tuned Dodge at the salt flats managed to hit 115.2. When I made my top speed runs in a neighboring state there were some severe early-morning quartering winds, which made pin-point accuracy impossible, and the car was in highway tune, not competition tune, which easily knocks off two or three mph. Our average, however, varied betwen 109 and 112 mph.

In summing up. These are undoubtedly the greatest cars in Dodge’s long history, by far. The interior appointments and comforts are equal to the most expensive standard automobiles on the road and this is a car that would be hard to beat in the medium-price field. Gasoline economy is nothing to get excited about but, all in all, this is a great vehicle and I sincerely recommend it as a top offering. •

Sea-Going Diner Pays No Taxes

BY TOM MCCAHILL

SAILORMEN of New York waters don’t die of thirst any- more, thanks to a new enterprise that pays no rent and no local taxes.

No, sir. When they’re a little parched they twist an ear until they pick up a few musical horn-toots. Then they jump up and wave their arms. A slick cruiser draws alongside. “What’ll you have?” asks a smiling cookie.

They have soft drinks and coffee and ice cream and hot dogs—great quantities.

Last year one enterprising “dog” dealer launched six 20-footers and did a rushing business. You might look over that little lake nearby; it may have possibilities this summer when the fishermen and bathers are numerous. But your floating hotdogs stand will pay taxes on local waters.

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MI Tests the 1950 Studebaker

“One of the best dollar values today,” says Tom McCahill. They’re not the fastest cars on the road but they’re tops in comfort and quality.

THE new, needle-nose Studebaker gives the boys of the Big Three something to shoot at. Back in ’46, with the introduction of the 1947 Studebaker designed by Raymond Loewy, this first real post-war auto stirred up the populace. And now, once again, Loewy has set the pace with the 1950 Studebaker.

To this writer, however, it looks like the Studebaker people did a bit of borrowing themselves for a change. Most of us knew it would be just a matter of months before the Tucker “turkey” was laid on the Thanksgiving table for carving. Well, it appears as how Studebaker has started the dissection rolling by slicing off the Tucker nose as their helping. When I was first asked by a Studebaker executive what I thought of the new car I told him, “Though it’s not exact, the front looks as though Tucker must have passed through South Bend on a bicycle.” He quickly pointed out that I was wrong and said he could prove how it varied. But I’ll stick to my guns and say again that, to my eyes anyway, it looks like the turkey is on the table.

Don’t think for a moment I disapprove of the Studebaker beak. With the Tucker out of the picture, I think this new Studie is the best looking car in its class. It certainly proves that the boys of this independent company are wide awake and still way ahead of the competition in design. This is no small feat for any outfit to pull off four years in a row.

There have been other changes in the 1950 Studebakers, such as an increase in the wheel base (one inch on all models) and much better front-end suspension. The rear of the car has undergone some modification too. There’s a large, new tail light and a general refinement of all hardware All four fenders are individually bolted on, so that in the event of a minor crash, an entire new side is not required. Today, this is a feature well worth considering. The horsepower has also been jacked up. Taking everything into consideration, the new jobs are better cars than previous models. And, as most Studebaker fans know, there was very little wrong with them before.

The dash or instrument board is several inches further forward than in the past. Incidentally, the Tucker dash was way forward too. Enough of this small talk, though, let’s drive the car!

Undoubtedly the unhappiest man in South Bend was Bill Ay res of the Studebaker public relations staff on the day I arrived. Usually, I drive to the factories for tests but this time I elected to go by rail. My train pulled into South Bend just after six in the morning [Continued on page 140] and there was poor Ayres, waiting to greet me. We discussed company plans and particularly Studebakers version of the automatic transmission which will make its debut on the Commander and Land Cruiser in early 1950. Then we made arrangements for me to test these cars in California next winter. Until then, I have sworn to make like a sphinx. So for now, back to little needle nose.

We drove to the 850-acre proving ground, one of the best in the country. I was offered my choice of cars, all thoroughly broken in. I selected the four-door Champion which is the low man on the Studebaker totem pole.

Before I had made more than two laps of the three-mile track, I realized the new Champion has a lot more punch and handles much better at high speeds than its predecessors. The horsepower has been raised to 85 from the former approximate 80 and this has made a considerable difference.

Improved performance was also noticeable when I drove into tough curves at 80 mph and got around without any effort. This was a near impossibility with previous models which had looser front-end suspension. In all, I drove about 50 miles at high speeds on the track. Then I headed for a short half-mile dirt course.

On the dirt, I spun around corners with all wheels screaming but had the car under full control at all times. When this was over, I made several dry side skids doing about 70 and found I could snap it out at any time. The Champion is a remarkably fine handling car.

From the dust track, I headed for some rough South Bend roads which could snap the neck off a Japanese beetle. About ten miles of this proved to me that the Studebaker is probably the finest riding car in its price range made in America today. The car I tested was equipped with a standard three-speed transmission. Overdrive is available at extra cost and would add a mile or two to the top speed. In conventional range (always lower when overdrive is used) acceleration figures would drop anywhere from a half-second to a full second on each run.

I headed for the water trough for a grand finale. Cars are tested there not only for leaks but to find out if they can stand a good dousing. The Studie passed with flying colors.

I like the Studebakers and I like the company that makes them. They are not the fastest cars on the road but that feature is not too important to many buyers. They are, on the other hand, tops in comfort and quality. They’re rugged, reliable, good looking and one of the best dollar values in a car today. •

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The Mercedes-Benz 190 SL

Fine workmanship and splendid roadability are the top features of this sports rig, says Uncle Tom.

By Tom McCahill

THE NAME Mercedes-Benz, like Tiffany, Morgan & Company and Diamond Jim Brady is known from pole-to-pole and over the border and into Finland. Mercedes-Benz has had only one rival through the years for the title of Prestige Car Of The World—and that is Rolls-Royce. Actually, from a quality standpoint and longevity, Rolls gets the nod, but from a performance and accomplishment standpoint no one can touch Mercedes.

Back in the days when bankers looked like bankers and not like Robert Hall salesmen, the Rolls-Royce was for the conservative clique and the Mercedes was usually owned by Uncle Jim who, though nice, was considered a little swift. The fact was that Jim had a few more corpuscles than the average blue-blood who had the dough but was afraid of soiling the white piping on his dark vest. The Mercedes was always a man’s car.

After World War II, Mercedes was quick to make a full-bore comeback, not only in competition but in the production of passenger cars. However, this was accompanied by a few irksome qualities not considered good automotive merchandising practice. For example, the 190 SL and the 300 SL created sensations when first introduced but some of the first customers to order these cars were approaching senility before they took delivery, which unaccountably was delayed by many months —in fact, more than a year in the case of the 190 SL.

As if this weren’t bad enough, the cars didn’t come up to their original billing, performance-wise. The famed 300 SL that was supposed to turn a sizzling 160 mph failed to reach 135. at Daytona Beach and the Thunderbirds trimmed them handily in the 1955 acceleration runs. These original 300 SL’s were supposed to be almost carbon copies of the cars that won the ’52 Le Mans race (because the leading Talbot ran out of oil with less than an .hour to go) but they were a far dry from these team cars. They were heavy and the fuel injection systems had more bugs than a 30-cent flophouse. Today, these troubles have been solved. They are excellent cars but let’s not overlook the fact that Mercedes of old would have delivered cars in top shape right from the beginning.

The 190 SL, originally touted as a 125-mph bomb, took many, many months to get into production. When it did arrive, it had Carburetion trouble and couldn’t do 125 off the George Washington Bridge. Somewhere between Germany and New York it seems there had been a total misunderstanding of the type of fuel available in the States. If the importers had taken a few buckets full of our high-test stuff for the boys at Stuttgart to play with, a lot of unhappiness to original owners might have been avoided. Now these bugs in the 190 SL have been ironed out—so what have we got?

During the first few months of the 190 SL’s original introduction in this country I received a,number of letters from disappointed owners. One owner, Dr. Vaughn Mason of Yonkers, N. Y., wrote and offered me his car for test, when and if he ever got it running right. Just before leaving for Florida I decided to phone Dr. Mason, as several months had elapsed since his letter, to ask how his 190 was now running. “Okay,” he told me, so I asked him to bring it over and he did. Hereby hangs a tale: Unsatisfied with the performance he was getting, he had taken the car to Master Mechanic Maeder at Zumbach Motors. Maeder went to work on the carburetor and really did a job because the acceleration of Mason’s car is a lot hotter than any other of the original 190 SL’s—and acceleration had not been their long suit. For example, 0-60 on the Mason 190 SL averages 10.6 seconds, where Mercedes of the first lot ran closer to 13. The latest 190′s all have new-type carburetors and boast acceleration which compares closely with the times I got with Mason’s car—far superior to the original offerings. Top speed is now upped from an average of 101 on the initial models to around 104-107 with the latest carburetor.

These cars are among the finest road-holding, road-feeling Mercedes-Benzes ever produced and are actually superior to the more expensive 300 SL in this department. John Fitch, member of the Mercedes race team, paid me a visit recently and told me that when the Mercedes team went to Italy for the Targa Florio their practice cars were 300 SL’s and one 190 SL. All the team members fought for the 190 SL because it was so much nicer to handle on this rugged course and so much more fun. They found that due to the terrific roadability of this car their actual practice lap time was amazingly close to the much more powerful and swifter 300.

Incidentally, here’s a side note showing the strange quirks that fate has a way of playing: Pierre Levegh, whose Mercedes killed so many people at Le Mans in ’55 in the worst auto disaster in history, was John Fitch’s driving partner. Ten minutes before the start of the Le Mans race they hadn’t decided which one would start. If the selection had been Fitch—well, no two men in the world drive alike and Fitch would most likely have been ahead of or behind the spot where Levegh’s car was when it hit the swerving Austin-Healey, causing the Mercedes to catapult off the track. Fitch was due to take over the car in another two laps.

The finish of the 190 SL, right down to its leather-lined glove compartment hinge to its easy-to-put-up, no-thumbs-lost top, has all the markings of true craftsmanship. The four-speed synchromesh transmission is as smooth as the fuzz on a duckling’s head and the two bucket seats are as comfortable as being fanned by harem girls while soaking in a bubble bath. Like all Mercedes, the steering is a little firm but not unpleasantly so. When you cut for a bend or hard curve you know where the bite is, where it’s solid, direct and to the point. The little four-cylinder engine with its 105 foot-pounds of torque gives the impression of having double that, especially in dig. The actual operation of the engine is so smooth that it’s impossible to tell whether it has six, eight or four cylinders.

The real pleasure of this car came to me in my cornering tests. Around a dust-gravel bend at fairly good speed I could hold it to absolute negligible drift with no plowing whatsoever, or I could break the tail away and go into a full slide with the slightest wheel twist, then get it back on course again with just a snap of the wheel. Over rutted roads this car tracked with all the straightness of a bullet shot from a Springfield rifle.

Now we come to What Is It? and Is It A Good Buy? We can tell you what it is but you’re the guy who must decide whether it’s a good buy for you as there are many sports cars available in this price bracket. This little Mercedes, fully equipped, sells for close to $4,200 in New York. Here is a car with fantastic quality of workmanship where the smallest details of finish reflect the pride of the oldest automobile maker in the world today.

When Pall Mall de Peyster asks you what you are driving and you nonchalantly flick your cigar ash and answer “Mercedes-Benz” that’s similar to saying you’ve just been given self-service privileges at the Chase Bank. At roughly the same figures, a Thunderbird or Corvette would kill it, performance-wise, in normal road travel. But the name Thunderbird or Corvette fails to have the magic sound of Mercedes-Benz. That one has a way of raising goose pimples on all men from the Theda Bara set to fuzzy-cheeked kids in prep school. The name is a lot more important than people think. Webster could use it under the definition of “intrigue.” It’s associated with E. Phillips Oppenheim’s stories of the Riviera and dark nights roaring away from Polly’s. To say you own a Mercedes-Benz makes you stand out in a crowd like a bull moose at a prayer meeting. In summing up, this is a fine little car and one that’ll appeal especially to the connoisseur who likes to get his Zippos in a Tiffany box. It is a good conversation piece and a professional snob can have a real ball with it. It is able, within its limitations, and quite handsome in a Teutonic sort of way. This would make an excellent rally car. In fact, this is what it is best suited for. Knowing this, Mercedes pulled a major goof: the odometer has no tenths dial and merely measures in round miles. For rally work this makes it as impossible as trying to conduct a swimming race without water. Mason, who uses his car in rallies, had to cannibalize an Austin-Healey speedometer and mount it under the dash because it does have tenths readings. If you’re in the market for a sports car but are not interested in racing, hill climbing or drag events, you might look the 190 SL over. Joe Blow up the block with his ‘Bird will blow you off anytime he catches you loose—but then he can’t say “Mercedes-Benz” when you both reach the corner saloon. •

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MI Tests The Triumph TR-2

“A hairy-chested, flame-spiffing wildcat” is how Tom describes this 104-mph import. By Tom McCahill THE fastest automobile in the world selling for under $2,500 is one way of summing up the TR-2 Triumph sports car. In its price class, the new Triumph is a hairy-chested, flame-spitting wildcat. With this uninhibited rig you can pass a flat-out MG with enough extra speed in hand to give the MG driver double pneumonia in addition to dust in his eye and a slight eardrum concussion.

If high performance at a price is your dish, then this is it. Not until you reach the Austin-Healey price range will you experience any trouble in knocking off opposition as easy as shooting tied frogs in a barrel. Against the Austin-Healey, several things could happen. If the Austin was in a sloppy stage of indifferent tuning, this little bucket, that costs some $500 less, could beat the Healey to its knees like a poodle in a pit fight with a tiger. With both cars in equally good tune the Triumph, with an engine half a liter smaller, can jump with the Healey from a standstill, wheel turn for wheel turn.

Both cars get to 30 mph in 3.7 seconds average. At 50 mph the Healey has a one-tenth of a second lead and at 60 mph the Triumph is in front of the Healeys I have tested, racking up an average of 11.7 against 12 seconds plus for the A-H. Above 60 the Healey comes into its own again and has the Triumph by four-tenths of a second at 70 mph with a time of 15.8. The fastest run I got with the Triumph was 104 mph, which is fast but not quite up to the Healey. In the overall picture, the Healey has the slightest of edges but not by enough to give any Triumph driver an inferiority complex.

Up until now I have been comparing the TR-2 Triumph with the Austin-Healey, the hottest sports car item on a dollar basis in the world. What I should compare it to is the MG, its immediate price competition. In this rat race the MG never gets off the mark at all. The Triumph can kill the MG in performance in every department including comfort and luggage space, and both have almost similar price tags.

The Triumph’s looks, however, are subject to challenge. To me, the front end resembles a cardboard box that someone has shoved his foot through. Aside from this head-on aspect, which has the esthetic grace of an on-its-side rubbish can, I think the looks are fine. The seats are comfortable and truly adjustable. Whether you are six feet four, or just four,, the seat has enough back and forward movement to square you up. The instrument panel is neat, adequate and as easy to read as a Marilyn Monroe calendar and almost as informative. The drive shaft tunnel divides the port and starboard sides of the car in two, like a Quaker pew. There is enough room behind the seat to cany a limp, flexible drunk and this barge has a real trunk big enough for two five-rib roasts of beef or 10,391 Philco refrigerator ice cubes.

Some months ago rumors started hitting New York about this car, based on some time trials it made at the famed Jabbeke Highway in Belgium. On this course, where a hot kid on roller skates can do 100 easy, the new Triumph racked up an amazing time by averaging over 124 mph. It should be mentioned at this time that all runs on this pike, conducted by the Royal Automobile Club of Belgium, never cease to amaze me. This is the spot where a stock 1953 Chrysler did 127, Jags almost 180 and Native Dance 104.3. I used to suspect an eager Chamber of Commerce, or two downhill runs, or a slow watch, or kilometer times given out in miles. With this in mind, I drove there last year and looked over the situation. It’s a nice stretch but so are hundreds of others. I’m still puzzled.

Anyhoooooooooo — the Triumph that made the run, like Donald Healey’s Austin-Healey that ran 142 mph on the salt flats, was to say the least slightly different from the car you might pick out at random from the production line. The windshield was replaced with the extra-cost competition screen. The entire car was underpanned, etc., etc. Needless to say, the car was well tuned also. However, without being snide, I do understand through the grapevine that, with some just normal tuning and a few things here and there including the lower windshield, speeds of 114 can be expected. The open cockpit area is very large and the vacuum created by this at high speed when the top is down is enough to yank the rack off a full-blown bull moose. On the car I tested, an extra-equipment and well-fitted tonneau cover broke up this vacuum pretty well.

The top is not bad at all but putting it up calls for erecting the support bones first and then, like a swirling matador, tossing the fabric over the bare-ribbed frame. Snapping the cover on after that, with easy-to-work snaps, is about as easy as these things usually are. The side curtains really seal out cold or rain and the material of both the top and curtains has the feel of a medium-weight rubber boot—fireman’s boot, that is.

The exhaust and muffler system is terrific, in my book. I understand that this has evoked some adverse criticism from my English contemporaries who are hog wild about quiet. To me it sounded great Under ordinary throttle pressure it sounds for the most part like a well-modulated cylinder exhaust dampner (dig that crazy exhaust dampner). However if, whilst you are on the throttle, you give it a real high-C goose, whilst running up through gears, a real soul-stirring, deep panther growl will result. It has a rather rich flat staccato, similar to a “Bronx school lad cheering visiting dignitaries.

The steering of this car is positive and quick. There is an overdrive button which operates with all the smoothness of a new chamois wiping off a bald head. This is a tremendous gas economy feature for long trips and an engine-saver. The overdrive control is sure and only operates off or on when this easy-to-reach button is pushed or pulled. If you don’t get better than 30 miles to the gallon with this rig on a trip, you can look for a hole in the tank; Under normal operating conditions, up to 35 miles or more on a gallon can be expected.

This 4-cylinder, overhead-valve sports car develops 90 horsepower at 4800 rpm. I made my tests in the East on my own proving grounds. My hill test, which it took without too much fuss, had to be made in second gear. The Triumph matches the Healey horsepower, oat for oat, but falls short in the torque department with a maximum of 116 against the Healey’s 144. Healey gets this advantage through the extra half-liter in engine size. The extra load of muscle gives Healey the nod in a hill climb but, as we said earlier, the Triumph will match it for quite a while, shovel for shovel, in the dig department on the flat. Of course, it’s not fair to compare the two cars. I’ve been doing it not as a buildup for the Healey but as a tremendous compliment to the Triumph. After all, at the same price difference between the two cars, a modified Jag could gulp down the Healey, side curtains and all, without even unlimbering. In my handling test I found that the Triumph was not quite as solid in the rear as the Healey in slides and spins but a great, controllable car regardless and far superior to many more expensive sports jobs.

In summing up, the Triumph caught me completely off base in spite of all I had heard about it. It is far superior to what I thought it would be. In fact, it is a great automobile, especially at the price which at present is $2,448 (less tax and license) in New York. This may be reduced shortly to around $2,200 according to the listening post. At just about $2,500 it is one of the best sports car buys around. Bear in mind, these cars should win almost every race they start in—where price is the dividing class. In the more unfair hassles, where cubic-inch displacement regardless of price is the factor, it won’t rate against Oscas, Ferraris and similar ilk of the same size engine and costing at least four times as much. In its own bailiwick and price class, the Triumph TR-2 is unbeatable at this writing.

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McCahill PREVIEWS THE 59 CARS

Beefed-up engines, new suspension systems and dream car styling are the big changes for ’59.

By Tom McCahill

IT’S likely that 1959 will go down in automotive history as the year that automobile manufacturers—hurt by the ’58 sales slump—went all out to whet the appetites of the car-buying public. Beefed-up engines, new suspension systems and dream car styling are just three of the goodies offered with the hope of starting those “low down payments” rolling in once again.

The following is an introduction to the top 1959 cars released as of this date. If they don’t hit you right between the eyes and start you grabbing for your wallet, a lot of Detroit automobile men will be oiling up their squirrel guns and heading for the woods. A guy’s got to eat somehow.

Plymouth for 1959 is the best car of the low-priced three, in our baldheaded opinion, and we’ve tested all of them. The new model retains its top quality ride, the best in its field, and it may prove to be the only ’59 car which has actually improved in performance. The looks of the new sports sedan (on which we will soon bring you a full test) are tops. The Plymouth is loaded with innovations such as front seats that swivel to the side for easy entrance and exit. The general finish has been upgraded so it ranks with any of the top medium-price offerings.

The writer drove a new Plymouth at a full 120 mph for over 40 miles and has never had a more comfortable high-speed ride in his life. This car is equipped with the “395″ Golden Commando 361-cu. in. mill and has 10:1 compression ratio.

Ford, the originator of ball-joint suspension in the Big Three class, is still a top-flight handling car when equipped with coil spring suspension. However, the suspension has been lightened up this year, which has taken away some stability. The styling, though changed completely, nevertheless retains a certain amount of Ford looks from the past. The taillights, which one top Ford official told me hurt sales in ’58, have been altered to big bull’s-eyes. There has been no improvement in over-the-ground performance over the ’58 models, possibly due to increasing the weight while retaining the same engine sizes.

This year Ford is featuring a cheaper version of Ford-O-Matic, a two-speed job which saves in weight and parts, being simplified considerably. Also available is another transmission called the Cruise-O-Matic, teamed with a 2.92 rear axle. The Ford-O-Matic is standard with a 3.56 axle. Wheelbase is 118″; tread 59″ front, rear 56.4″; overall length 208″; overall height 56″; width 76.6″; weight 3,665 lbs.; 332-cu.-in. displacement; 4.0 bore x 3.3 stroke; 20-gallon gas capacity; 7.50×14 tires.

The Chrysler line consists principally of the Windsor, Saratoga and New Yorker, plus the hairy-chested 300E. The Windsor and Saratoga have 383-cu. in. engines with 10:1 compression ratio. The big New Yorker will sport a 413-cu. in. mill, as will the 300E. Despite this increased engine size, they will weigh 100 lbs. less than in ’58 which will improve weight distribution.

In ’59, Chrysler has added optional rear air suspension to their top-flight torsion suspension. Having driven some of the vehicles, the writer can only comment that the air suspension doesn’t seem to have done any harm. Instrument panels have been changed considerably. Also featured is an “electronically-controlled rear view mirror.” Gad! New Yorker wheelbase is 126″; overall length 220.9″; overall width 79.5″; overall height 57.5″.

Imperial was our choice as the greatest car built in America in 1958. I’ve seen nothing to alter this opinion in 1959. In a short test ride I gave the new Imperial, there was no breakdown of top handling quality despite its air suspension, even at speeds as high as 122 mph. The instrument panel has been completely reworked. The power plant has been upped in size from 392 cu. in. to 413, with 10:1 compression ratio and 100 lbs. less weight in the engine.

When I asked an Imperial man about the rear air suspension—used as an addition to regular leaf springs—he said the principal function was to keep the car level regardless of the trunk load. If the new model handled any better than the ’58, I failed to find the difference. However, last year’s Imperial was far advanced over the competition in handling and driving ease, and its superiority will probably remain unchallenged through ’59.

Dodge has undergone heavy styling changes in 1959 yet maintained some of its former characteristics, such as the broken nose profile of the tail line. On the four-door hardtops, the roof and rear windows have been re-styled and the front end is as new as next February’s cold. Dodge will offer a six-cylinder engine in addition to its V8. The six-cylinder job will displace 230 cu. in.

The Dodge Coronet standard V8 is a 325-in. mill, and on the Royal, Custom Royal and station wagons the power plant is a 361-cu. in. V8 with a compression ratio of 10:1. Also available on all models will be the 383-cu. in. D-500 engine, which brings us to the conclusion that Dodge has an awful lot of en- gines. Wheelbase is 122″; overall length 217.4″; overall width 80″; overall height 56.6″.

Pontiac for 1959 has undergone complete restyling, to such a thorough degree that if the nameplates were removed, not one automobile man in 1,000 could tell you that the product was made by General Motors, much less that it was a Pontiac. They’ve come up with what may very well prove to be the Looks King of the year. Pontiac is the performance champion of the General Motors camp. This is the car that ran away with the performance trials at Daytona Beach in ’58 and they’ll again be the cars to beat in 1959. Powered by a great 389-cu. in. engine that gets them over the ground like a greased missile, the Pontiacs are the rulers of the traffic light Grand Prix.

All Pontiac engines, regardless of set-up and horsepower, are the same displacement size and they’ll feature a slightly de-tuned version for economy driving that will be undetectable in outward appearance from the hottest jobs they put on the road. They come either with or without air suspension; we like it without. Compression ratio is 10:1; 280 hp at 4,400 rpm; torque 408 ft. lbs. at 2,800 rpm; 4.06 bore x 3.75 stroke; 8.00×14 tires. Wheelbase of the Chieftain is 122″; overall length 213.7″; overall width 80.7″; tread 63.7″ front; rear 64″.

Oldsmobile for 1959 is longer, wider and has a 46 per cent larger windshield in the four-door sedan. The trunk capacity has been upped 64 per cent! Jim McMichael, the world’s foremost trunk-tester, has been gaining weight in order to keep pace with this trend. One of the things Oldsmobile is featuring in ’59 is a rear window which, they claim, actually allows rear seat passengers to look up into the sky through the “heat resistant” rear glass. The Super 88 and 98 Oldsmobile for this year will have 394 cu. in. in the engine department. Larger intake valves have been added, according to Oldsmobile, which hardly seems surprising on a larger engine. The wheelbase of the 88 Series has been upped to 124 in. and the tire size on the 88 and 98 is now 9.00×14. The brakes have been increased in size.

The Super 88 wheelbase is 123″; overall length 218.4″; overall width 80.8″; overall height (four-door sedan) 56″; 20-gallon tank capacity; 394-cu. in. displacement; 4V2″ bore x 3f£” stroke; 9.75:1 compression ratio; 315 hp at 4,600 rpm; torque 435 ft. lbs. at 2,800 rpm; weight 4,276 lbs.

Cadillac has really changed in ’59; its styling throughout the line has been upgraded to resemble former Eldorado models. This year the engine is up to 390 cu. in., though remaining basically the same as in previous years. It has also been bored to four inches from 3.91 and the stroke has been lengthened from 3.31 to 3.875. Air suspension is on all four wheels, tied up with new Freon 12 shock absorbers which give “an amazingly soft ride.”

Cadillac will also offer their own version of the Auto Pilot this year. Series ’62′ Sedan: wheelbase 130″; overall height 56.2″; overall length 225″; overall width 80.2″; OHV V8; 325 hp at 4,800 rpm; 10.5:1 compression ratio; torque 430 ft. lbs. at 3,100 rpm; 21-gallon gas tank; 8.00×15 tires.

The Rambler American, American Motors’ hot-selling little cake, will add a station wagon in 1959. As far as this department can determine, this is a rebirth of the small Rambler wagon of several years ago. The American is a great buy and, if the station wagon isn’t just a little too small for a wagon, it should prove a hot item, too. When these Americans were formerly known as just Ramblers they featured air-conditioning. It wasn’t available on the American in 1958. Why is a mystery to this department and we think it’s pretty stupid if it isn’t this year.

The styling of the regular Rambler line for 1959 is very similar to ’58 and, in this writer’s opinion, not in nearly as good taste as the small American. Inline Six: L-head; 3-1/8s” bore x 4-1/4″ stroke, 195 cu. in. displacement; 8.0:1 compression ratio; 90 hp at 3,800 rpm; torque 150 ft. lbs. at 1,600 rpm; 5.90×15 tires; wheelbase 100″; overall length 178^”; overall width 73″; overall height 57ft”; tread front 54%”, rear 55″; 20-gallon gas tank capacity; weight 2,510 lbs.

The’ Ambassador looks like a Rambler with a longer name. If you make a practice of looking under all rugs, as I do, something hits you right in the eye: the four-door sedan only weighs 3,460 lbs., yet is powered by a 327-cu. in. engine developing 270 hp. As this is about 500 lbs. less than some deluxe models of Chevrolets, Fords, Plymouths and a few others, the Ambassador should be a real bomb. If the horsepower and torque figures (360 ft. lbs.) are right, this car might be able to kick hell out of the under-350 cu. in. class at Daytona.

The Ambassador is available with synchromesh, overdrive or automatic transmissions. The V8 engine has 4″ bore x 3.25″ stroke; 9.7:1 compression ratio; 270 hp at 4,700 rpm; overall width 72Ty; overall height 57%”; tread front 57%”, rear 59y8″; torque 360 ft. lbs. at 2,600 rpm; 8.00×14 tires; 20-gallon gas tank; wheelbase 117″; overall length 200V8″.

Summing up, it looks like it will be a busy model year for this writer. Back in ’57 all cars were getting to be so much alike and performance so similar, there seemed to be little need for a car tester.

When I started testing automobiles for MI 13 years ago, the American automobile was a pretty miserable hunk of nothing. By ’57, due to the pressure of racing competition—and partly due to these car tests —every car on the road had improved in handling, roadability, suspension, brakes and performance. It began to look as if my working days were over.

I’m happy to report that I’m back in business again because I’m sorry to say that some of the worst-performing cars of the decade will be in showrooms this fall. Famous cars that handled well just a year or two ago have again become sloppy, ill-mannered and dangerous. Brakes have been improved on some cars in ’59 but stability has been shot to hell in many camps. Performance in general, particularly acceleration, has fallen off considerably, except in one or two cars. Styling and that inevitable “softer ride” have taken the ball once again.

In our tests of the ’59 cars during the coming model year we’ll be pointing out some of these dangerous drawbacks in more detail. Meanwhile, be warned that ’59 is a year for careful shopping. Some cars are greater than ever. Some are real dogs. And remember, it costs just as much to feed a mutt as it does a purebred. •

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dream cars you’ll never see

IN the January MI we showed you Tom McCahill’s dream car. And it really caught your fancy. We were swamped with letters, many of which longingly described pet dream cars. So, the editors asked artist Doug Rolfe to draw this set of cartoons to illustrate what might happen if Everyman would fit a car to his own personality.

SPORTSMAN’S MODEL: good on land and sea. It’s equipped with reds, pad’ dies, elephant guns, LaCrosse sticks, fencing masks and cricket bats.

HOMEBODY’S SPECIAL: this one’s just a little bit of heaven on the road. Everything really goes along—including the kitchen sink!

FAMILY MAN’S BUS: room tor all the juniors and junioresses. Porch far in the rear is for the wife, the soundproof cab a hideaway for Papa.

SPEEDSTEP’S HOTROD: this one’s streamlined, chromium, jet-propelled fob which trawl* fatter than the speed of any two motorcycle cops.

WINTER DRIVER’S CAR: has every cold-weather accessory except ear muffs. One thing wrong: it can’t be driven unless there’s a 20-inch snowfall.

TIMID SOUL’S VEHICLE: It’s got wrap-all-the-way-around fenders and four (count ‘em) spare tires. Oh yes —it burns non-inflammable gas, too.

YOURS AND MINE: this is the most fantastic of ‘em all. Not only does it fit our personalities but it fits our pocketbooks as well.

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McCahill Drives The Austin Healey

Uncle Tom test-drives the most talked-about sports car of the year and finds very few faults to criticize, many virtues to praise.

NOT since the day Neville Chamberlin showed up at 10 Downing Street with his umbrella incorrectly rolled, has a more sensational shocker taken place than that caused by the birth of the new Austin Healey 100. The windscreen and bonnet boys of England’s motordom were outrageously amazed at the reception accorded this upstart at Mr. Herbert Shriner’s Second Annual International Motor Sports Show in New York. At this prime American exhibit, the sales people of some of Britain’s oldest and most traditional concerns never put a mark on an order blank whilst Mr. Donald Healey’s creation was causing a near-riot. In two words, Donald Healey and associates “had It” whilst their fellow Britons “Had it.”

Like a breath of fresh air in a cave, this newest import seemed to have everything. Sexy looks, the right size and performance claims that were sensational. For a power plant it had the excellent Austin A90 engine which is as reliable as sunset and a baby power giant for this little two-seater that tweaked the boy in every man who saw it.

If there had been 10,000 of them in New York the day the Austin Healey made its debut, 10,000 would have been sold before the sun went down. The most interesting phase of this whole phenomenon was that, without ever hearing one run and of course without ever having a ride, hundreds of people placed orders with deposits for this car on its looks alone. This proves once again that Barnum was right—but in the case of the Austin Healey, the early buyers weren’t suckers, despite the long wait for delivery.

Donald Healey has spent a lot of time on these shores and has a better feel for what Americans want than most of his English competitors. When I first saw the car at Shriner’s show, I went for it like the rest and I wrote to Healey, whom I have known for a long time, saying I wanted a car for a test in France. He wrote back and told me I’d get the car at Le Mans in June. Unfortunately, it was wrecked by a truck, just as it was being driven into Le Mans, so I had to satisfy my curiosity by watching the two AH’s that were entered iii the race. Healey told me that the first 20 built were made by him and from there on Austin had the production ball. From what I could learn later, this turned out to be quite a ball—trying to keep the car at the original $2,985.00 delivered-in-New York price.

On the production car I just tested, the only cheapening I could find was that the wire wheels, instead of being chromed as on the original model, are now painted with aluminum paint. The company calls it “cadmium plated” but I call it aluminum paint.

Now that Austin is making these jobs, production should pick up. Austin is the fourth largest producer of automobiles in the world (surprised?) and has the facilities to do the job. As you may know, Austin today controls MG, too, which is a little sad. After all the horse’s mouth rumors I had heard about the “sensational” new 1%-litre MG in the works, I learn that the upcoming model will have the same old engine just slightly hopped up. The new MG looks better, from its slanted chrome grille to its wire wheels (optional) and fender headlights. But without a real engine change, it will be as competition-dead as Cock Robin.

For my test of the Austin Healey I contacted John Penn of Suburban Motors in Plainfield, New Jersey. I knew he had one for display so I called him up. Suburban Motors, incidentally, is one of the largest foreign car outlets in the East and, of all things, features service, something some of the other dealers should try. As the temperature outside was in the 90′s, I put the top up to shade my bald dome. This was a big mistake. Before I could get it into high gear, the inside of the cockpit was hot enough to roast a twelve-pound turkey in six minutes. If ever a car needed foot vents, this is it. Even the neat ashtray, recessed into the drive tunnel between the passenger’s and driver’s seats, was a hot babe. As this is directly above the transmission, it not only gets hot, it gets white hot— enough to raise blisters. What an ashtray-cigarette lighter combination! With the top down, the temperature was more bearable. But I sincerely doubt the need for a heater in this rig even in the Arctic. Frankly, unless you live north of Hudson Bay, you are going to have to cut foot vents into this tomato just to live with it, if you ever intend to ride around with the top up. Penn assures me he can do this very neatly and for very little dough.

We might as well bring out all the faults right away so that we can have some fun (I’m not kidding) with the car later. The much-touted up-and-down sliding windshield is another big blob of nothing. In any position with the top down, it vibrates and rattles like Harlem dice in a wooden cup. If you place the windshield in Position Two—which means to slide it forward—it beats itself to death in spite of some small shock springs. On this complaint Penn again agreed that it needs some extra support and anchoring and he is prepared to fix same at a reasonable price.

Last but not least is the top and side curtain arrangement. There is no exterior door handle. So when the side curtains are on, to open the door to get in the car you must first unlatch a piece of the top and grope for the door release on the inside by bending your arm jiu-jitsu-style, a maneuver that is a little on the primitive side. Next, the solid Plexiglas curtains, which give wonderful visibility, miss sealing at the windshield by a good inch and a half. In other words, on both sides they act as an air scoop to dump the rain, sleet and snow right in your lap. Sporty, eh what?

But now all you droop-mouthed Austin Healey fans can perk up, for from here on in we’re in the clear. On the road this car is truly sensational. In fact, it’s a man-size junior bomb. Over rough roads it sops up the bumps better than any true sports car I have ever driven. And in corners it’s a glueball. On my number two test corner, which is pretty severe at speeds above 50, I took the curve at a full 75 mph and there wasn’t the slightest trace of breakaway. On my dust-and-gravel corner I found I could snap the rear into a slide when I wanted to or keep it plowing while I drifted around. Once or twice when the car got around a little too far, a snap-back of the steering wheel and she was on course again.

In hill climbing this car became the fourth ever to take my test hill all the way in top gear. This is a three-speed-and-overdrive car (unlike most imports) which gives it a top gear advantage over some four-speed jobs I have tested. But anyway, this is one of the best hill cars I have ever driven.

As a competition car, the engine size of 162 cubic inches gives it some trouble. This will put it right in the same class with the faster 212 Ferrari, the Aston Martin and some Gordinis. And it’s bigger than some smaller class cars, such as the 1-1/2-litre Osca and the Maseratti, which can take it. Competition-wise, the AH is in a bad spot, despite its excellent showing at Le Mans. At Le Mans the Austin Healeys finished 12th and 14th overall, which was amazing. One finished second in its class to a Gordini which was sixth in the overall picture. However, while Le Mans proved the endurance qualities of both All cars entered, in a regular 200 or 300-mile event it would be at a bad disadvantage due to its big size. For example, so-called sprint cars such as the Ferraris would just eat it up like a wildcat chomping on a baby duckling.

When races are run by classes based on the cars’ original and in its place a complete Mercury unit is installed. This gives the Studie 11-inch rear brakes instead of the standard 9-inch and the whole unit is huskier in order to take the extra power. Bill also installs a larger radiator core. Out comes the Studie engine and in its place goes a standard 1953 Cadillac mill. As the Cadillac engine weighs only about 50 pounds more than the Studie plant, this is more than balanced by the heavier Mercury rear end assembly. With all this done, what do we have? To start with, we have a car that is now rattle-proof and all of whose accessories are nailed on right. Under the hood we have one of the finest engines in the world, one which turns this mild car from South Bend into a sports coupe that will match nearly anything in the world in getting down the highway.

My test of Frick’s Studillac was brief and to the point because the car had already been sold and its new owner was waiting. I believe you may have heard his name before—Briggs Cunningham. Actually, Phil Walters was picking up the car from his old partner Frick and was waiting to take it to Briggs.

Phil and I got into a slight hassle about the car’s cornering ability. Phil claimed that, due to the Studie’s low center of gravity, it was undoubtedly the best cornering assembly-line car in America. I claimed that it takes more than just a low center of gravity, that little things like suspension and shocks enter into it, and that I feel my ’53 Lincoln could out-corner any stock Studie with plenty to spare. As these kinds of yak fests never get anywhere or prove much unless you run the two cars together, we went on to other things. Walters rightly asks where in the world could you get as reliable a 125-mph, four-passenger coupe as the Studillac at any price, and on this point I must fully agree with the general manager of the Cunningham Company.

The stock Cadillac engine, unhopped, just loafs in the light Studebaker chassis and should outlive a new-born colt by about 20 years. Frick sells this job for around $4,500 or just a few bucks more, depending on the extras, and at this price it is a real bargain. Zero to .60 averages 8.5 seconds. Top speed is 125 to 126 and you get up there in an eye blink. For a transmission you can have the regular Cadillac Hydra-Matic dual-range job or, if you insist, Frick will install a three-speed Cadillac transmission that will give even a little more flash. Is this a practical job? Well, with Ferraris and Continental Bentleys costing more than three times as much, you get a car that will outrun the Bentley and match price (such as the meet the AAA so successfully sponsored at Floyd Bennett field in August) my dough would be on the Austin Healey every time. Here is a sports car selling for under $3,000 that was able to go the full 24 hours at Le Mans and finish 12th overall against the greatest cars in the world. At this writing, great things are claimed for the new Triumph but as that bucket hasn’t proved itself in competition yet, let’s just make a flat-footed statement and say that for cars costing $4,000 or less, the Austin Healey at this moment is the best sports car in the world.

The car I tested was almost new and had less than 500 miles on the clock. It had not been tuned and definitely was not broken in. However, here are the performance figures made on a corrected speedometer. Zero to 30 took 3.7 seconds, zero to 50 went 8.1, zero to 60 averaged 12.3 seconds and zero to 70 took 15.8. I didn’t get a top speed run because of traffic conditions and over-interest in my work by the law after my acceleration trials.

If the car had been thoroughly broken in, I would have taken it to my regular high speed test road some miles away but in its new condition it would prove nothing. I hit 100 mph once or twice but that was all. The company claims 110 for this rig and in view of the fact that they got through Le Mans traps at 119, I see no reason to doubt it. The company also claims zero to 60 in 10.5 seconds. This I would have to see before I’d believe it. I know the 12.3 I did would improve with breaking in with a good tune-up, but cutting 12.3 seconds down to 10.5 is like growing 27 feet overnight.

In summing up, I think this new car is one of the greatest additions to the sports car world in many a moon. It has loads of luggage space and will appeal to on-the-fence sports car fans who just haven’t bought a sports car yet, though they have wanted to. In spite of the few things I have pointed out that will have to be altered, I heartily recommend this car as one of the best buys ever to come down the pike.

VESPA

Tom McCahill, famous Automobile Test Driver says: “Here is real fun … this car has a fantastic ride”

When Tom McCahill test drove the 1960 Vespa “400″, he stated that he experienced a thrill unknown in driving for a good many years… that it steered with the alertness of a Grand Prix car.

You, too, will be amazed by the performance of this sleek, rear-engine beauty with advanced engineering design. Vespa has the most economical air cooled engine which squeezes 60 miles out of every gallon of gas . . . goes up to 60 miles per hour.

Heater, defroster and electric windshield wipers all come as standard equipment.

Suggested retail price, only $1,080. P.O.E., New York.

Find out today why the quality of Vespa is unsurpassed in the automotive field. Your local dealer will be happy to arrange for a free demonstration.

For the address of your nearest dealer, write:

VESPA DISTRIBUTING CORPORATION
MOTOMAC OVERSEAS CORPORATION
3 EAST 54TH STREET, NEW YORK 22, N. Y.

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The Fuel-Injection CORVETTE

Chevy leads the way with a fuel injection system that may enable this buggy to beat the Grand Prix record of 170 mph, says Tom, By Tom McCahill IN 1920, when a be-mustached gentleman named Gaston Chevrolet won the Indianapolis classic at the astounding speed of 88 mph, he was a hero’s hero and about as swashbuckling a character as you would be apt to meet at a luncheon for the late Jean LaFitte. Later on, Gaston zigged when he should have zagged and they buried him that November. Somehow I can’t help wondering how Gaston would have reacted if he could get a look-see at his namesake as we know it today. If we could flip the time switch back to 1920, it would be a cinch to jam the whole family, including the cat and dog, into a ’57 Chevrolet sedan and outrun old Gaston in his roaring race car. for the entire 500 miles in Indy.

Chevrolet, for many years a dependable but unexciting piece of transportation, a little over two seasons ago donned the guise of a rip-snorting, hell-for-leather performer, a lot more like the guy the little bucket was named after. Ford, for a long time Cock Of The Walk in dig and down-the-pike leadership, suddenly found itself competing with a new Chevy engine that would wind up like a Waring Blendor and leave almost every car ever conceived in Michigan blanketed in dust behind it.

In 1956, Ford, chagrined at Chevrolet’s athletic prowess, came back and smacked hell out of Chevy in some pretty important events such as the Darlington 500, the World Series of stock car racing. But Chevrolet at Daytona Beach earlier in the year had had things pretty much its own way.

As we wrote in our ’56 Chevrolet test, the V8 that powered it was the finest breathing engine made in America and had a cam as sharp as the tooth of a Killarney bat. Due to its light valve assembly it was able to wind up tighter than a Siamese ukulele. When properly tuned it could put out one horsepower per cubic inch. This alone was news because, as you readers know only too well, most horsepower claims by manufacturers resemble the truth about as closely as a giraffe resembles a groundhog. Chevrolet claimed 225 horse but most top stock car race,men knew this was a real understatement. For 1957, the Chevrolet mill claims 250 horsepower for the standard Corvette engine and about 283 when equipped with solid lifters and fuel injection. Displacement has been increased from 265 to 283 cubic inches, still the smallest of the Big Three V8′s.

The Chevrolet Corvette in 1956 astounded more sports car purists with its terrific speed and acceleration than Briggs Cunningham would if he entered Sebring in a rowboat. Before proceeding with this test of the fuel-injection Corvette, I would like to break in with a quick injection for Chevy fans interested in more family-type transportation. We will bring you a detailed report on the ’57 sedans later on. As there were no production models available at testing time, the family sedan I drove was an engineering job. Here, quickly, are the results. With single four-barrel carburetor and new Turboglide transmission (which is similar to Dynaflow), I made the following times: 0-30 mph, 4.2 seconds; 0-50 mph, 8.5 seconds; 0-60 mph, 10.8 seconds; and 0-70 mph, 14.2. Top speed—110 mph-plus. Now back to the Corvette.

Basically, the 1957 Corvette is pretty close to identical with the 1956 and is identical in appearance. When we last brought you a test of this car it was of the 1954 six-cylinder version, a lukewarm open-type car and very comfortable. The latter adjective can no longer be applied to the 1957 Corvette. Due to the addition of a semi-automatic soft-top raising mechanism in ’56 and continued on ’57 models, the cockpit room has been reduced greatly. If Chevy had adopted the adjustable steering wheel feature of its closest competitor, the comfort and safety factors would have shot way up. As it is, the steering column cannot be moved in or out to fit the driver. Tie this up with shallow, small seats and you have a car that is suitable for men on the smallish side only.

The big news at Chevrolet for 1957 is the introduction of fuel injection. Fuel injection will be optional at extra-cost in the Corvette and every other Chevrolet, including the Broom Peddler’s Special.

Fuel injection has become a more or less semi-magic word to the automotive fraternity in the last few years. To the average reader its operation may now be a little confusing due to the many systems of fuel feeding which are called “fuel injection.” The first fuel inject was invented by a gent named Rudolph Diesel who out-Cratered Judge Crater long before Prohibition. From a ship named the Dresden he mysteriously disappeared in the English Channel with all his blueprints and papers in the fall of 1913. As this was just before World War I, there was much speculation as to what happened to Herr Diesel. Anyway, the late Rudy is the guy who invented the diesel engine and fuel injection. Many of you readers associate the term “fuel injection” with diesel power plants. You are right but this isn’t the same system Detroit uses for gasoline engines.

For our two readers in East Lizardtail, Borneo, here briefly is the poop on how a fuel injection diesel engine works. In the four-cycle jobs, air is admitted to the cylinder through a valve in the customary way. This air is compressed on the up, or compression, stroke at any- where from 15 to 17-to-l ratio. In a true diesel no spark plug is needed because all air and matter consists of hundreds of little molecules bouncing around. As the molecules are compressed (or their playground reduced in size) by as much as 16 times, their action is speeded up from a normal 1,000 miles an hour. These molecules, bouncing off the cylinder walls, piston tops and cylinder heads, now do so with such force and velocity that the heat of the air is raised to at least 1,000 degrees.

At this instant, fuel injection is employed. Under about 600-700 pounds pressure and at a velocity greater than the speed of sound, a highly-efficient, high-pressure pump shoots a drop or two of fuel (fuel oil) through a nozzle. This instantly turns into a fog that directly enters the cylinder. The heated air, without any spark from a plug, explodes the oil fog at once— and that’s how a diesel works. In a diesel, the volume of air in the cylinder is always constant—only the amount of fuel injected is changed to increase or decrease speed. As you know, in a gasoline engine with a conventional carburetor, the air is the controlling factor.

However, the automotive fuel injection system developed at General Motors at present is only a distant cousin of the diesel system. This new system, though providing a fantastic advance in performance, does not explore the full and expensive properties of diesel injection, which someday may make it possible to run a 12 or 15-to-1 compression ratio engine cooler and more effectively on a poorer grade of fuel than we have now. But that’s tomorrow. Before we get on with today, let me qualify that last statement. When the fuel is injected at the last instant, as it is in a diesel, or at the top of the compression stroke, all possibility of pre-ignition is eliminated. In today’s so-called fuel injection engines, such as used on the Corvette, high-octane fuel must still be employed. The fuel goes in on the suction stroke and must ride out the compression stroke to the end without bursting into flame first.

The new Chevrolet Corvette employs a fuel injection system that works like this. The speed of the engine is controlled, as usual, by the amount of air admitted. Through a series of fuel pumps (driven directly by a shaft leading to the distributor and controlled by the vacuum in the intake manifold) a jet of fuel is squirted into the intake port for each cylinder. This is picked up and carried into the combustion chamber by a normal swirl of incoming air. In action, this is similar to having eight separate small carburetors, or one for each cylinder. From the second the intake valve closes with its new charge, it acts like any other gasoline engine and the charge is fired in the customary way, by a spark plug.

In a nutshell, here are the advantages of Chevy’s fuel injection. Through this super-type of Carburetion (and Carburetion it is) each cylinder now gets a 100 per cent uniform charge, something almost impossible with standard manifolding. This alone is enough to increase the efficiency of the engine by many percentage points. It eliminates the old-fashioned carburetor throttle pump and, in general, also eliminates the flat spots in performance so common even in the great 1956 Chevrolet engine. With an ever-constant supply of fuel in the right amount at the right spot, better torque will be experienced from idling speeds right on up to wide-open throttle. This is a tremendous advance in fuel handling but I, for one, am wondering about getting such a gadget serviced in the badlands of B^ack Bearskin, Dakota, during a howling blizzard.

During my tests I was accompanied by Zora Arkus-Duntov, now with the Chevrolet engineering staff, whom I’ve known for many years since he ran at Indianapolis and raced at Le Mans. Duntov is the boy who drove a Corvette better than 150 mph at Daytona Beach last winter and is one of the guiding fathers on this new fuel injection system. Duntov will be well-remembered by hot rodders as the designer-builder of the old flathead Ford Ardun heads which made wildcats out of many a 1949 Ford kitty on the hot rod circuit.

Our test car was not the full-race Corvette with solid valve-lifters and competition cam which will be seen on our race circuits in ’57. The job I tested was the standard Corvette with fuel injection that was more of a general use car. Here’s what this “general use” car can do: Zero to 60 mph, 6.2 seconds; 0-80 mph, 11.0; 0-100,17 seconds. Top speed—close to 140 mph. This was a gearshift model. With the automatic transmission, all performance figures fall off about ten per cent. In its full competition suit, Duntov assured me that if Daytona Beach is smooth and the wind calm, he expects to “easily” better the record now held by the D-Jag at 164 mph. He may even give the Grand Prix record of over 170 mph a wrestle. If the beach is flat and the wind is calm, I for one think he might.

In summing up, this is a great American high-performance car, the greatest ever made. Its main drawback is that the cockpit is now much too small for football players. •

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The ’59 Chevy

Styling is as wild as you’ve seen . . . just as different as Santa Claus without a beard . . . That rear deck is pure Louis Armstrong—gone, man, gone! What a spot to land a Piper Cub.”

By Tom McCahill

YOU don’t need a Gallup Poll or a complete report from the Electoral College to know that Chevrolet must be considered the American buyer’s Number One Choice. No other manufacturer in the world, for that matter, has pumped out as many cars over the past 20 years as this General Motors division.

In 1957, after holding Top Spot for 21 years without a break, Chevrolet was toppled from the throne by Ford. But in 1958, with a completely re-styled automobile, Chevy recaptured the sales ball from its perennial opponent—and judging from the 1959 styling changes, it looks as if the Chevrolet boys have made a truly extreme effort to retain possession of the mythical production trophy.

The car on which I ran most of my tests was the big Impala with the 348-cu. in. V8 engine and air suspension. This is the Queen Mother of the camp and as wild a departure from earlier models as Santa Claus without a beard. The rear-deck treatment is pure Louis Armstrong—gone, man, gone! Instead of last year’s neatly sculptured, somehow sort of foreign-looking backside, the view from the rear is strictly Spaceship 1989. It carries tremendous horizontal fins which hover over teardrop-shaped tail light clusters to give the whole thing a kind of two-story effect. My first reaction when I saw this rear flight deck, which curves downward from either side in a slow V, was, “What a spot to land a Piper Cub!” It’s crazy—but craziness in good taste.

Up front the treatment is also as different as anything you ever saw in a Chevrolet. The four-eyed look is gone. The dual headlights, which last year were mounted slightly above the front point of the sweep spear along the side of the body, have been lowered quite a few inches and are now placed at either end of the grille. Above the grille are narrow slits that look like air intakes, but aren’t, and the directional lights have been tucked into the outside corners of these slits.

In last year’s report on the Impala I mentioned the chrome fish-sealers on the front fenders and pointed out that they were so sharp they “could nick the casual do-it-yourself body polisher right across the wrists where the arteries are.” I recommended that they be remodeled with a sledge. I doubt if the Chevy stylists used a sledge but they did blunt the sharp edges and achieved a safer, sleeker, longer and lower look for the ’59 version of these ornaments.

Another thing that will stop you dead in your tracks when you first see this ’59 Impala is the enormous area of glass, front and rear. The windshield curves way up and into the roof in really advanced Goldfish Bowl style. The rear window, also only slightly smaller than the big ones at Macy’s 34th Street bazaar, looks very much like the one on the new Buick we tested last month. As the lead picture of this article shows, the combination of front and rear plate glass provides tremendous visibility and a quick way to get suntanned.

To test the ’59 Chevrolet, MI Editor Bill Parker joined Jim McMichael and me for our trek to the huge GM Proving Ground at Milford, Mich. After being escorted through the as-always-well-guarded gates, we headed for the Experimental Garage where we later spent some time yakking about racing at Daytona and Indianapolis with Mauri Rose, who competed 16 times at the Indiana Brickyard and won three of the 500-milers (in 1941, 1948 and 1949). Mauri is a GM engineer and headed up Chevrolet’s successful racing team until the Big Three decided to get out of competition last year. Then, with one of Chevrolet’s young engineers and a GM security cop as escorts, we were turned loose on the test track itself.

On the first hard turn around GM’s handling course, the Impala shed hubcaps like confetti tossed at a gondolier’s wedding. This was embarrassing but not disastrous. By the time the car is in production the hubcaps, they assured me, will be glued on to stay; the car I was driving was, of course, a pre-production engineering model. The hubcaps, incidentally, have been slotted for better brake cooling, a trick Chevrolet picked up from their racing experience.

This big Impala (and it’s bigger than the Cadillac of ten years ago) was equipped with air suspension, a system to which MI readers know I have never been lavishly devoted. It did take all the jolts out of the roughest test roads we went over. But it is my sad duty to report that this ’59 Impala with air bags is not, by a long shot, the best handling or most roadable car Chevrolet has produced. As you readers know, I have always preferred the firm ride to the super-soft or mushy type. For 1959 almost all the manufacturers have gone back to the softer ride. Why?

In most auto camps this year—with the notable exception of one— they told me, “Motivational research shows that the average buyer is continually seeking a softer, more comfortable riding car.” I don’t know anything about motivational research but I do know that it is possible to have a top ride, top performance and real comfort all in the same package. There is no reason for sacrificing any of them.

In performance, the ’59 Impala does not come up to last year’s car. My 1958 test showed a respectable zero to 60 mph time of 10.4 seconds. In the 1959 car with the big 348-inch engine and a three-carburetor hookup, plus TurboGlide transmission, I averaged 13.1 seconds. The high-speed track was not available when I made my tests so I cannot report what the ’59 Impala will do flat-out.

In all fairness, I must report that for 1959 Chevrolet is also offering the 283-inch wildcat engine (with a hot cam, if you want it), with manual shift and with a choice of either a three-speed or (an innovation this year) a four-speed transmission, about the finest made in this country today. I have no doubt that the right combination of these options will go almost as well as the hot Chevies of old and I wish that I had had a chance to test one of them. I think that a Chevy with the smaller engine, and with coil suspension, would wind up like a siren on a Polish fire engine.

Perhaps the reason why the big luxury Impala’s performance has dropped off this year is that they have increased the weight considerably without adding any compensating increase in muscles. The new Impala, which is nearly two inches longer and wider than the ’58, has picked up almost 200 more pounds of weight in the body alone. Except for air conditioning, the rig I tested was loaded with all the accessories. This meant that the big engine added 119 lbs. to the basic weight of 3,655 lbs.; power brakes, 15 lbs.; heater, 24; deluxe radio, 13; power seat, 19; power steering, 15; air suspension, 37. (TurboGlide, however, only adds an extra two lbs. over standard transmission, while PowerGlide lumps on 102 lbs. more.) Any way you slice it, the once “little” Chevrolet has become quite a heavy-weight and, with air conditioning and other available stuff, it would be no trick at all to come up with a Chevy weighing well over 4,000 lbs.

The brakes on the Impala I tested were excellent, a direct adaptation from the competition Corvette brakes. They are a quarter of an inch wider and as sure of success as a loaded bank account. Inside the car, whose overall height is 56 inches, the front seats have been lowered to accommodate the new silhouette and there is plenty of headroom whether you are sitting in the front or back. The steering wheel, designed and positioned to give a good view of the instrument panel, has a sharper rake—or vertical angle—similar to many foreign sports cars.

The compression ratio of the car I tested, with three two-barrel carburetors, was 9.5:1. With the special available camshaft and a four-barrel carburetor, the compression ratio goes as high as 11 to 1. Horsepower on the 11:1 rig is an even 300; the engine on the job I tested put out 280. Fuel injection is still available on the smaller, 283-inch engine.

Summing up, the 1959 Chevrolet has the most radical styling of the new model year —and this, they tell me, sells automobiles. If I have any knowledge of public reactions, this styling—with its touches of everything from Ave Maria to Basin Street —will be the talk of the automotive year. And if I am any kind of a prophet at all, when the sales box score for the 1959 models has been totaled up, I think it’s a sure bet that Chevrolet will still be America’s Number One Choice. •

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The NASCAR Story

Strictly stock car racing is the hottest sport around right now. And here’s the lowdown on it.

By Tom McCahill

FROM a spark that a couple of years ago was not much bigger than the glimmer in a bridegroom’s eye, the sport of racing unmodified or strictly factory-condition stock cars has blazed forth into a roaring prairie fire of popularity. Hot rods, midgets, jalopies, modified stocks, sports cars and even the big Indianapolis racers are getting a real run for their money from this newest racing craze. During a comparatively short season from April to November, the un-souped-up stock cars attract no fewer than 5,000,000 cash customers to tracks all over the country, making them the Number One crowd-grabbers in automobile racing today.

How come all the excitement? Well, I think the explanation is easy. Real stock car racing, where no souping up is allowed, gives Joe Fan a chance for the first time to see how his own pride and joy stacks up against competitive products. The cars he sees racing around the track are the exact duplicates of the car he owns or can buy at the corner showroom. If Joe has been thinking of buying himself an Amalgamated Fooey Six he may change his mind quickly after seeing the three Amalgamated Fooey Sixes in the race throw right front wheels and roll over. He may even buy a Consolidated Carbunkle Four, a car he never thought much about before, because the Carbunkle Four stayed together and finished in the money.

Yes, I think the reason the absolutely stock car races have caught on to such an extent is because the average spectator has a personal interest in the results. The cars racing are the twin brothers of his own and his friends’ and how these jobs stand up in professional competition under the terrific beating they take, is of vital interest to him. Any normal guy gets a boot out of seeing his own make of car, driven by a top professional, beat the tar out of a rig identical to the one the brother-in-law is always bragging about. Even the boys not keen for speed would like to know if the wheels are liable to fly off the Mouse Tail Eight under stress or if the engine has the nasty habit of breaking its mounts and causing a fire when fuel lines snap. And who isn’t interested in knowing whether his brakes will stand up in a real emergency or how his own car’s body will react to a roll-over: in a rough crack-up, will the car top squash flat, will the sides cave in and tear apart, or what? Nearly all these questions are answered eventually if the fan attends enough stock car races.

Aside from the educational angles of stock car racing, the races themselves are loaded with thrills and the competition among the big-time drivers is as sharp as the blade of a woodsman’s ax. Some of the cars racing, such as Cadillacs and V-8 Chryslers, cost almost $4,000. So the wrong zig when the driver should have zagged can be a pretty costly proposition. The prize money is big and getting bigger all the time (totalling about $500,000 last year) but a bad crash with a four-grand crate often spells temporary bankruptcy for the car owner. In these big-time stock car races all the cars must be new models, meaning from 1950 up, and in some events each car must not only be a current model but its total mileage may not be over 5,000 miles. This stops the sharper who would hunt out a thoroughly loosened current model with 30,000 or more miles on it. As all stock car racing men know, a car with a lot of miles can be rebuilt to beat the spots off a 5,000-mile kid, even though all original factory specifications are maintained to the letter. The big wheel of American stock car racing is a six-foot-six-inch, 220-pound character known as MR. NASCAR. Bill France is his regular handle and this moon-tickler is the president of the National Association for Stock Car Automobile Racing, NASCAR for short, perhaps the world’s largest single automobile racing organization. During the regular race season from April to November, an average of 25 NASCAR-sanctioned races are held each week from coast to coast. These races are run on everything from quarter-mile and half-mile fairgrounds dirt tracks, to the major circuits such as Langhorne, Pa., the Michigan State Fair Grounds and the asphalt lV4-mile oval at Darlington, S. C, where the annual 500-mile Labor Day classic is the Kentucky Derby of the stock cars.

This young, post-war organization has some unique advantages, such as low entry fees and life and hospital insurance for every driver. In addition to the summer races, NASCAR sponsors a big winter event, known as Speed Week, at Daytona Beach, Fla., [Continued on page 178] where it maintains its headquarters. NASCAR also sanctions events for a so-called “sportsman’s” class, which broken down into understandable English means modified stock of any age, usually pre-war Ford coupes and similar crates, that nave been internally hopped up any amount but with no visible external alteration. These races are fairly popular but the real pay dirt for NASCAR is found in the competition among the showroom-condition stock jobs. These are known in racing circles as Grand National Circuit cars or late-model absolute stock entries.

In any new organization which has mushroomed to such proportions, there are bound to be a few weak links in the daisy chain at first. Keeping the boys honest is one of Bill France’s biggest headaches as there are more ways of surreptitiously altering a stock car than there are hairs on a cat’s back. France and NASCAR’s racing Commissioner, the famous Cannonball Baker, do their unmodified utmost to make sure all entrants get a fair shake. At some of the big races, such as this year’s 250-miler in Detroit, all cars are thoroughly checked from stem to stern before the race to make sure they are absolutely stock. Then they are locked in a compound until race time. At other NASCAR events, the cars are allowed to run and then the first three to finish are immediately impounded for a technical inspection. As exhaustive as these examinations are, it is feared that on more than one occasion some car jockey with a heart full of larceny has walked off with the marbles.

My only major beef is that NASCAR doesn’t put enough teeth into the penalties for cheating. In a race like the 500-mile Darlington clambake where the first prize is over $10,000, any guy who tries to chisel with a secret hop-up is guilty of grand larceny. He is just as much a thief as a stick-up man with a gun. And for my dough he should be treated accordingly. If a basketball player who throws a game for money can be sent away to the pokey for a couple of years, then so should the stock car racing thief. As it is, when cheating is detected, the driver is disqualified for that particular race and forfeits his entry dough. Period. If he had to lose his car, or at least forfeit a $1,000 bond posted by him before race time, he’d think twice before installing commercial valve springs, doping his fuel or porting his valves.

Recently NASCAR passed a ruling that every car must finish in stock condition mechanically. This was to prevent the mechanic with thievery in his veins from bolting the exhaust system so loosely that it comes adrift at the first bump, thereby relieving all exhaust back pressure. A simple trick like this can add as much as five miles an hour to a car’s speed. Another old dodge is to cut the fan belt almost all the way through so that it will break after starting, thereby giving the car an extra ten or more horsepower to play with at high speed. A cooling fan isn’t needed at speeds above 50. Just before my Daytona Beach run with the V-8 Chrysler last winter, a very well-known racing figure came up to me and offered to lend me his razor-sharp jackknife to cut my fan belt. If I had done so the Chrysler I drove might have averaged another two or three miles an hour.

Going on to pleasanter subjects, the results of strictly stock car races have to be analyzed carefully for them to mean anything. For example, winning a big-time NASCAR race doesn’t always mean all it implies. Certain tracks that are duck soup for some fast cars are poison to others. The fact that a Hudson Hornet can tear a big Chrysler V-8 apart on a half-mile track doesn’t mean it can do it on the NASCAR four-mile circuit at Daytona. The short wheelbase entries have a tremendous advantage on short courses that can’t be overcome by the more powerful and faster big cars. Recently, a hardtop Nash Rambler ran away from the field on a quarter-mile Washington track. In my opinion this same Rambler wouldn’t have a prayer of finishing in the money on a longer course.

On the short tracks, big cars like the Caddies and Chryslers burn off right front tires faster than balloons in a needle factory, because of their long wheelbase and the extra strain on tires due to their weight. In the straightaway speed trials at Daytona Beach, the Chrysler and Caddie were more than five miles an hour faster than the next make.

The Hudson Hornet, with expert Marshall Teague driving, has been cleaning up on half-mile and mile tracks all over the country. In a turn, the Hornet is one of America’s finest handling semi-big cars and this, plus a very potent engine, makes it a top performer. Olds 88′s are always in the money thanks to a wildcat engine on a comparatively short wheelbase. The sturdy Plymouth with a 111-inch wheelbase is consistently in the top bracket and the winner, over all makes, of 1950′s largest single purse of $10,500 at Darlington, was Johnnie Mantz driving a Plymouth. The Plymouth’s reliable engine with its terrific endurance, plus the car’s tire-saving lightness, plus better cornering ability because of short wheelbase, account for car’s success.

In nearly every big NASCAR race, the course will favor some cars much more than others. So a win on one track doesn’t mean that this or that barge is the best. The four-mile Daytona Beach track is the tops for separating the men from the boys. Here, high speed in the straightaways and roadability in the extremely rough corners shake the weaklings apart like eggs dropped from an air liner. On this course, doors fly open, trunk lids pop up and exhaust systems rattle loose legitimately. Wheels snap and tires pop like cannon crackers. Marshall Teague won this race in 1951 but even this doesn’t make the Hornet the undisputed champ for the two fastest cars in America, the Chrysler V-8 and the Cadillac, were not in the event. Teague might have taken both these makes anyway but we will have to wait until next winter to find out.

According to Bill France, no car with an automatic transmission has ever placed in the money in a NASCAR event, though many have been entered since the No-Left-Foot Polka became Detroit’s theme song. All top racing Olds and Caddies have synchromesh transmissions. According to Daytona Beach time trials, synchromesh Caddies are more than five miles an hour faster than those with Hydra-Matic. (Thought you’d like to know.) Bill France is the real spark plug of stock car racing in America today. France has the promotional ability of Tex Rickard, the organizational skill of Henry Ford the First and the showmanship of Billy Rose. I have been with France when he was handling a big race at Daytona and spent the day wide-eyed in wonderment that one man could handle so many details. At a big race like that, he scoots back and forth in his station wagon checking on everything. Through two-way radio in his car, he helps to break up traffic jams, rescue some dope who stalled his jalopy in the sand with the ocean about to take over, or calls the ambulance for a brand-new mother who thought she’d see the race before the stork arrived.

You don’t have to own a corner of the First National Bank to race with NASCAR. Ten dollars a year dues puts you right on the mailing list and eligible for all NASCAR events. If you can’t afford the big factory stock car races you can start out in the modified or sportsman class, which costs a lot less to buy and maintain, especially if you are mechanically minded. NASCAR is the organization for the guy who wants to race for big cash prizes without having to make a big initial investment. As for the spectators, I hope the stock car prairie fire spreads and spreads and that new car buyers will be influenced by the facts, good and bad, revealed about American -automobiles participating in these events. •

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MI Tests the New Crosley

Tom McCahill, Mi’s auto expert, puts the new Crosley through its automotive paces.

EVER since I started on Mi’s automobile test series in 1946 hundreds of letters have come in asking about the Crosley and other miniature pieces of transportation. So here is the dope on the Crosley. To get it I came to Florida, where they seem to be the most popular—and here I am writing this in Palm Beach.

Florida, like parts of southern California, has always been a favorite gathering place for small cars. The land is as flat as a bookkeeper’s chest and you can run them forever on a buck’s worth of fuel. Before testing the Crosley, I made it a point to question a number of Crosley owners. This was easy, as they are all over the place down here—like slot machines and bookmakers. Nearly all I spoke to were enthusiastic. Some owners praised these little cars so highly that I suspected they were stockholders in the Crosley Corporation. All reported 50 miles plus to the gallon, and nearly all (this is where I got suspicious) said they could cruise them all day long at 50 miles an hour. I questioned one man who had driven his down here from Virginia and he told me he averaged 54 miles to a gallon all the way, and that on one six-hour run he averaged 49 miles an hour— that I would have to see.

Maybe an explanation of the term cruising speed is in order here. Cruising speed, according to most automotive and aircraft experts, means the fastest speed at which the vehicle can be driven or flown without damaging the machine by excess speed wear, and which at the same time is a speed that can be maintained with safety and comfort—that is, without tiring driver or pilot. All right. Now, I would like to go on record as stating that in my opinion the only time you could cruise in a Crosley at 50 miles an hour and still be comfortable, would be if you were sitting in one that was loaded on a fast freight train which was doing 50 miles an hour. They will do 50, and I drove one faster than that, but at these speeds the little 4-cylinder engine screams like a banshee with the hot-foot and, as for driving comfort, I felt as secure as a guy going over Niagara Falls in a canoe.

Crosley really has a gem of a little engine, though. It’s called the Cobra, is not much bigger than a Pekingese, and in some ways is unlike any engine ever built before. The cylinder block is fabricated from steel stampings, machined parts and steel tubing, locked in place and then brazed together in what Crosley calls a hydrogen process. The inside water-cooling chambers are made rust-proof by a baked-on rust inhibitor. The crankshaft is an iron casting. The engine has four cylinders with a 2.5 bore and 2.25 stroke. The hp rating (AMA) is 10, but it actually develops 26.5 at 5,400 rpm. When you compare this with the average American car, which hits peak power in the three thousands or four thousand at most, you quickly realize that the Crosley has a real high-speed engine similar to that in a race car, though much smaller. The displacement of the engine is only 44 cubic inches. This engine is a great advancement over the 4-cylinder midgets manufactured a few years ago by several makers, for this one really develops some horsepower whereas the others wouldn’t pull a greased kitten out of bed.

From all I can gather, the Crosley outfit is all set to make a serious bid for permanent recognition in the automotive world. They feel there is a definite place for a small, inexpensive and economical car in America, and as I see it they may be the one to really put it over.

Powel J. Crosley, Jr., himself has personally questioned owners, mechanics and service managers, looking for usable suggestions.

I must say that the present Crosley is far from a small dream car; frankly, engineering imagination ran out completely in several instances. For example, I found several big men who weren’t sold on these cars and I quickly found out why. There is leg room for a man as tall as six feet two or three but due to the over-curve of the top and the window design, he may have to duck to see left or right. If his shoulders are any wider than a gnat’s, he will have to ride these things side saddle or not at all. The door is so constructed that a man with shoulders must give, because there just isn’t enough room on the postage stamp seat to move over. Now this could be compensated somewhat in mild weather if he could run down the window and rest his arm on the ledge, but even this is barred. The windows are the two-piece, sliding, overlapping type that push either forward or back, but—here’s the catch—you can’t push them either far enough forward or far enough back to get even a corner of your elbow out unless you’re the Indian Rubber Man.

I know Crosley saved quite a bit by incorporating this type of window but, if they must pinch pennies to keep the cost down, they should hire the best in body-building brains to work out a window that makes sense. The whole door arrangement could stand some redesigning as, even with the seats all the way back, the door handle is behind your shoulder and, unless you are a whirling dervish, you’ll find it difficult to open regardless of your size and beam.

I selected the Crosley sedan for my test and took it on a 50-mile run. The chassis rides exceptionally well, though the seats are on the hard side. I drove it as fast as it would go on several stretches and can say that the 26-hp engine will really whip it up, providing you give it a chance. The engine has plenty of flexibility at speeds from 20 on up but, like any high-speed engine, its power is at a low point at slower speeds. Roadability is good at speeds up to 40, but after that you are on your own. I feel the true cruising speed of these cars is between 35 and 40 and not a bit higher. The chassis is undoubtedly the best of the miniature type ever made in this country. And, of course, the economy of operation is a top feature.

Inside Uncle Tom

Which car does Tom McCahill really like best?

What kind of a guy is he personally?

What testing methods does he use?

Have the companies tried to “get” to him?

If you’ve been struck by the McCahill Mania, you’ll want to read all the answers in Rex Lardner’s Mister Car Tester in the November CARS.

AND IN THE SAME ISSUE: CARS has another exclusive with photos and road test of the new MG (First Report On The New MG).

CARS takes a 7,000-mile trip across the nation, investigating the country’s most notorious speed traps (CARS Tours America’s Speed Traps).

CARS tells the amazing story of the company that put out too good an automobile (The Pierce-Arrow Legend).

CARS uncovers a revolution quietly taking place on drag strips and junkyards (Hot Rods Are Doomed).

For bumper-to-bumper coverage of everything automotive read CARS—November issue now on your newsstand—25 cents

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McCAHILL REPORTS ON The 1960 Cars

New models, new styles and new engines are featured in this most exciting automotive year!

THE wildest alleycat fight since Finnegan needled the beer is about to take place in the American automobile world for 1960. Not since the first post-war models of ’46 has the guessing board been so active in “The world’s biggest poker game,” as Pontiacs Bunkie Knudsen recently described the car industry to me.

Naturally, the Big Gamble is centered around the so-called compact cars of the Big Three. Just how big a market this will amount to is what General Motors, Chrysler and Ford would gladly pay several million dollars to know right now. Top brass at GM have told me they figure the market to be between 18-20 per cent of the total new car sales. Some Ford men think it may reach almost 25 per cent. Bill Newberg of Chrysler just says he doesn’t know, but adds, “We’ll all know a year from now.”

The second question is how the small cars of the Big Three will affect imports and how they’ll affect Studebaker-Packard’s Lark and American Motors’ Rambler. Any way it’s sliced, these three new entries are bound to cut into the imports, the Rambler and the Lark, unless George Romney’s thinking (and it’s been excellent up ’til now) is right. Romney feels that the Big Three entries will stimulate the entire small car field to such an extent that he’ll sell more Ramblers than ever—and the imports may benefit, too.

The big deal in all camps will depend on how well these small ones go. The Chevrolet Corvair is covered thoroughly in a test article in this issue, as Falcon was last month. This only leaves the Valiant to be accounted for. The Valiant looks as if it cost several hundred dollars more than either the Corvair or Falcon. Bill Newberg told me personally it would sell at “competitive” prices. When I tried to needle him as to what was “competitive” he said, “The Falcon and Corvair are the competition, naturally.” I couldn’t get a specific price out of him. In fact, I couldn’t get an exact price at this writing out of the Falcon or the Corvair men, although I was assured by both that it would be “about $2,000.” Now, if Newberg can match the Falcon and Corvair price tags, he’s going to give both these entries one helluva run because the Valiant has more power, more performance and superior looks plus the great Chrysler torsion-bar suspension (which no one has matched yet in this country).

But now let’s take a look at what General Motors, Ford, Chrysler, American Motors and Studebaker-Packard have to offer for 1960 in their standard-size lines of cars. Here are the new models, styles and engines you’ll be seeing in this exciting automotive year.

GM, top dog in the automotive world, has just completed an excellent year. What’s new with its number one dividend-payer, Chevrolet? The 1960 Chevy has gone in for a pretty heavy face-lift which includes knife-edge styling and a modification of its batwing tail. It still comes in three well- known series: Biscayne, BelAir and Impala, plus three station wagons. The power plants are all similar to those of ’59, meaning a Six and two V8s, one displacing 283 cubic inches and the other 348. A high performance “Police Special” will be available on special order in time for Speed Week, if you don’t happen to be a cop. Basically the ’60 Chevy offers nothing sensationally new. But as you and I know, it will sell in the hundreds of thousands.

Pontiac for 1960 has made the guttiest change of the entire industry. While running miles ahead of all opposition in the medium-price field, and with the best look- ing cars on the road in 1959, they switched their styling completely for 1960. This took a lot of nerve but they’ll get away with it because their 1960 car has top looks, too. In ’60 the Pontiac line will be expanded with the addition of an entirely new series—the Ventura. On the price scale the new Pontiacs will start with the lowest cost Catalina, then Ventura, Star Chief and Bonneville. As everyone knows (with the exception of one inmate of the Old Ladies Home), Pontiacs were the performance kings of the nation in 1959 and, as if they needed it, they’ll be even a little sharper in 1960.

Oldsmobile had a great year in ’59—one of their best in history. For 1960 they’ve done some style-jiggling and they’ve removed that silly chrome strip outside the driver’s window. The front hood-line has been reworked and, in my opinion, the style changes they have made have all been to the good. All models have been reduced slightly in overall length. The ’60 Olds will be powered by a 394-cubic-inch mill in the 98 and Super 88 series and a 371-inch twirler in the plain 88. These are good road cars with ample performance for just about every need. Olds should do well in 1960.

Buick had a real bad year in 1959, which is hard to understand because they were the best Buicks ever built. They’ve been restyled considerably for 1960. It is anyone’s guess how they’ll sell but I will be very much surprised if dyed-in-the-wool Buick fans will be able to resist them. No ex-Buick owners will ever have owned cars this good. I feel that changing the well-known series names from Roadmaster, Century and Special may have hurt the ’59s a great deal. Even experienced auto men had trouble placing the new names: Electra, Invicta and LeSabre. For some old-time Buick men it might have been like a kid trying to get used to Frank Sinatra playing a clean-shaven Santa Claus.

Cadillac, the hottest-selling high-priced car in the world, will undergo no major changes for 1960. The power plant is still the same 390-cubic-inch mill developing 325 or 345 horsepower, depending on model. All are on a standard wheelbase of 130 inches except for the Fleetwood limousine which is slightly shorter than a ferryboat. Regardless, the safest bet in the book is that Cadillac will still .outsell all other high-priced cars in 1960.

The Ford Motor Company had a real good year in 1959 with the exception of its Lincoln, Mercury and Edsel sales (which is quite an exception, I’ll admit). Anyhow, they sold a lot of Fords—and that’s what keeps Dearborn, Mich, in grass seed. The 1960′s present a complete style change—so much so that if there weren’t any Ford labels on them, no established Ford dealer would recognize them as Fords. These are the best-looking Fords to have been built in many a year. The hoodline has been nicely dropped; the tail line is clean and free from distortion, and the profile is the best to come out of Dearborn in some years. This is a good-looking automobile. The power plants of all the Fords will be basically the same as in ’59 with one exception which we’ll call “The Bomb.” This is the Ford with a hopped-up standard-size engine for impatient bird watchers and such. Of course, this rig will be called a “Police” something or other but my private opinion is that it was designed for “giving it a good go,” as Bill France might say, on the sands of Daytona. Ford can’t miss having another good year.

Mercury, after two or three years of the wildest space age design kick ever foisted on the American public by Detroit, has climbed back into a Brooks Brothers’ suit for 1960. Once again it is a tasteful-appearing automobile, with lines slightly similar to the 1960 Oldsmobile. The power plants of the ’60 Mercs are, for all practical purposes, identical to 1959. They range in size from 312 cubic inches to an atom-smasher of 430 cubic inches (40 inches larger than a Cadillac, if you’d like a yardstick). From a comfort angle there isn’t a more luxurious car made in Detroit, within its price range, than the Mercury. The bodies are among the best built in this country and among the quietest. The only fault I find with the Mercury is that its automatic transmission eats up just a little too much horsepower and torque but possibly you won’t mind this because the car is loaded with other goodies, such as body quietness, that can’t be topped at any price.

Edsel, stylewise, comes pretty close to being a Chinese copy of the ’59 Pontiac. If Edsel would incorporate some of Pontiac’s performance into this design they’d have a helluva car. However, though I haven’t tested the new Edsel, there is nothing in the specifications of its Ford-like engines that would indicate bomb qualities.

Lincoln comes in three series—the Continental Mark V, Premiere and plain Lincoln. The styling for 1960 has gone very shoeboxy and appears as square as a Nebraska Congressman. They’ve replaced the former four-barrel carburetor ‘ The Chrysler Corporation would have had a real good year if production hadn’t been halted for months by a glass strike. As it was, they made up for lost time after they got going and wound up with a healthy profit.

Plymouth, Chrysler’s mainstay, has undergone dozens of changes for 1960, not all of them obvious from the outside. They’ve switched over to unitized construction—body and frame combined into a single, all-welded structural unit—and the styling has been modified, although not as drastically as on some other cars in the Chrysler line. A Plymouth equipped with the 361 Golden Commando will run the ears off anything in its class as it comes from the showroom. It will outjump any other American car up to 60 mph (with the exception of the Pontiac) and will match the Pontiac down to the tenth of a second. The Plymouth is my choice as the Top Buy in the low-priced field. This year it has a new overhead-valve, six-cylinder engine in addition to the V8s. The Six is mounted 30 degrees from the vertical, a la the Valiant and Dart, a trick they all swiped from Indianapolis. These are the best road and cornering cars in their class.

Dodge has undergone a complete styling and doesn’t look any more like Dodges of the past than I look like The Thin Man. The big news at Dodge for 1960 is its new small-size Dart built on a 118-inch wheelbase (same as Plymouth) but slightly shorter in overall length and width. This is a good car and may attract a lot of guys and girls who really don’t want a big rig and don’t go for a small one. For those on-the-fencers the Dart may be a sharp choice. Personally, I’ll be a pretty surprised guy if the Dart doesn’t prove to be the hottest-selling kid since General Pershing ran around in a four-cylinder Dodge during World War I.

DeSoto for 1960 has been completely restyled and looks no more like former DeSotos than DeSoto himself did.

Like the Chrysler line, it has stolen its grille from the Chrysler 300 which was the best-looking in the industry, in my opinion. These are good, rugged automobiles.

The New Yorker is the head boy for the cars that sell under the Chrysler Corporation name. Chryslers also come in the Saratoga and Windsor series. It’s my personal bet that the Chrysler New Yorker will go down as the Looks Champ of the industry this year. With its 300 grille and a county-full of swashbuckle and gutsiness I don’t see how it can miss with buyers who have any adrenalin left at all. These are big gutty cars with the best suspension and handling in the entire industry. Like all cars in the Chrysler line for 1960 (with the exception of the Imperial), they are featuring unitized construction.

The Imperial is the best car made in America, in my opinion. For 1960 they’ve jiggled the tail fins so they somewhat resemble recent model Cadillacs. Although I won’t give them a plus for this, on the basis of their outstanding performance, sports-car handling and the way they’re put together, if you want the best car made in America, there is no other choice.

Now let’s look at American Motors, the outfit that in 1959 more than doubled the ’58 sales of its amazing Rambler.

Rambler for 1960, as in ’59, comes in three sizes: 100-inch, 108-inch and 117-inch wheelbases. The larger two have undergone some styling changes which, though not radical, have removed some of the bad lines of last year. In other words they’ve cleaned them up and the fin lines will be much easier to live with. The Rambler American, my choice as a top dollar value for some time, is basically the same as it has been for several years. The Ramblers are good automobiles, honestly made, and if you should buy one I feel positive you’ll be happy about the whole thing. There’s not much else I can say aside from the fact that in 1959 they had their best year in history and elbowed out many old-liners of the Big Three. They did it with product alone, as American Motors just doesn’t have the kind of advertising money available to the Big Three.

About the only sensational news out of S-P for 1960 is the introduction of the Lark convertible. Larks come with Six or V8 cylinder power plants. A four-door station wagon is also new for this year. Lark had a good year, saleswise, and as you know, this may be just one other inspiration that caused the Big Three to move into the smaller-type car field. In 1959, a Lark won the Economy Run at the Daytona International Speedway.

So that’s about the way the new cars look for the coming year. How good a reception will they get? I think that as the three new compact cars go, so will go the market. They will serve as a definite barometer for American automobile thinking for many years to come. If they show immediate success and cut out a bigger hunk of total sales than anticipated, there will be at least three and possibly four additional entries in the small car field by this time next year, all sponsored by the Big Three. Just to be on the safe side, two new ones are already being readied for 1961.

Personally, I go along with the thinking that America is basically a big car country with big car needs. I feel that unless we have a depression of major size, or 60-cents-a-gallon gasoline, five years from now the so-called “big” cars (meaning present Chevy, Ford or Plymouth-size or larger) will still grab off at least 80 per cent of the market.—Tom McCahill

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McCahill Drives the ’53 Volkswagen

It’s no raving beauty and it will only do 66 mph wide open—but this little German bucket really puts out when the going gets rough, says Tom.

NOT since Ben Hur whipped his chariot into a broad slide with a hopped-up horse has a more surprising vehicle been developed in Europe than the 1953 Volkswagen. Now, before you start accusing your Uncle Tom of blowing his bald stack, let me qualify the statement.

The Volkswagen, which hits a top speed of around 66 only after you’ve held it wide open for several complete turns of a stop watch, is no sports car by the weirdest definition. But gamboling around in two snow storms during my long test, I had more sport with this paperweight than you could have with a Cunningham. Almost every car built today is a passable fair weather friend but when the going gets rough I’d sooner be behind the wheel of a Volkswagen than most cars I can think of.

Late in the afternoon of New Year’s Eve, in a snarling near-blizzard, Jim McMichael and I headed out of New York in a Volkswagen for my home in the New Jersey mountains. Before going 25 miles we found cars stalled and others skidding hopelessly as they tried to assault the simple rises of a dual super-highway. The Volkswagen weaved through these churning iron hulks like a broken-field runner. The heater was giving us Palm Beach weather inside the little cab while outside all hell was cutting loose.

The car hits the scales at 1,600 pounds and six-foot-four McMichael and myself topped 500 on our own. This meant roughly that it was carrying a third of its total weight in passenger load under tough conditions. As soon as I found clear spots where no other cars were fighting for traction, I deliberately threw this car into skids several times to see how it would act. Our big passenger weight, contrary to popular belief, was not helpful in giving the car traction and only helped throw it somewhat off balance.

When McMichael and I finally got to my home hill we found we were breaking fresh tracks in inches of snow for over a mile of hard climbing. On my test curve I almost lost the car for the first time. I hit the corner too fast on purpose and the tail of this little rear-engine job started heading for the woods. Rear engine cars act almost the opposite of front-engine cars under these circumstances and barreling for control is not the best way out of a rear slide. I took my foot off the gas instantly, the slide stopped and the car was on course again. John Fitch told me that he had a few close squeaks last summer at the Nurburg Ring when he raced a rear-engine Porsche. He said that on one or two occasions during the race he took a curve a little too fast and the rear started to slide off course. To get it back at once (unlike conventional driving, which requires throttle) he took his foot off the gas and the Porsche got back in line in an eye blink.

After our drive home from New York, the snow in the mountains continued and the roads were all but impassable. Just after midnight (sober) I made my first 1953 test, before the year was an hour old. Jim and I warmed up the little German splutter-box and headed for the hills. If Max Hoffman, who loaned me the car for the test, could have seen us I’m sure he’d have called for a couple of good head doctors.

After a few miles of ordinary snow-ploughing on the deserted main highway, we headed for some real tough stuff where the roads are hazardous even in July. Frankly, we both expected to get stuck. But the fantastic way this little pumpkin seed plowed through spots where angels were taking snow checks made us try and find the Volkswagen’s point of no return. I started up a two-mile mountain trail, where the snow was unbroken even by a rabbit, and while the bright Bosch headlights bored a hole through the swirling snow and darkness the Volkswagen dug in and went up like a puff of smoke. This left only one challenge locally, an impossible one—my regular half-mile hill climb with its maximum 28 per cent grade. For laughs, over we went and found the road covered with a good seven inches of snow, with ice underneath.

Wondering how I was going to back down, we hit the climb, throwing snow off on either side like a speed boat. So help me, if there were just ten more horsepower of guts in the little four-cylinder pancake engine we would have made it in second gear without stopping. As it was just 30 feet from the top— and well past the steepest grade—the engine died and I dropped down into first. Leaving it in first gear, I let it just grind away at partial throttle. Inch by inch, gradually wearing away the snow and ice under the rear wheels, the little Kraut clamshell worked ahead. We did some side-sliding in this last 30 feet but a little steering wheel correction now and then kept it on course. It took close to five minutes to make those last 30 feet— but make them we did.

I realize that many of you will think this part of the article as queer as a fur six-dollar bill, never having driven a rear-engine job in snow. Though unbelievably slow, our progress up the hill was steady and uninterrupted. There were no signs of tire burn or over^ heating. The car just went up inch by inch in first gear until we were on more level ground, then picked up in normal fashion.

About a week later, the East got whacked with an ice storm that did millions of dollars’ worth of damage. Trees and branches were all over the road and all my mountain utilities, including light and telephone, went out. My wife and I had a dinner date some miles distant that we couldn’t break as we had no way of phoning, so off we went in the Volkswagen, picking our way through a mass of hot power lines. On our return, very late that night, things had got much worse. The windshield was icing up (due to the poor location of the car defrosters, off to the side instead of being in the middle) and we found all our regular routes home blocked by fallen trees. This meant playing blind man’s bluff, in total darkness on sheet ice and in deep snow, trying to find an open lane or path to get us back home. I was glad I was in the Volkswagen instead of the MG.

The VW’s visibility is so much better than the MG’s when the roadster’s side curtains are up (a must in such weather) and the headlights are so far superior to the MG’s United States-legal sealed beams that comparison is ridiculous. These Volkswagen lights (you must change them in many states and you can guess why) picked out fallen wires in their beam long before I got dangerously close. After riding nearly 50 miles to cover a normal 15-mile distance, we finally got home safe and sound and warm just as dawn was breaking. We had gone over roads and hillsides that no American car I know of could have travelled that night. And the experience had given us a real affection for this unlovely little beetle.

I first tested the Volkswagen several years ago and was only mildly interested. It was fair weather and under these circumstances the car struck me as just a nice, homely little turtle that ran well, steered easily and cornered like a pool table on casters, just as a lot of other imports did. It took a real snow-and-ice storm for me to fully appreciate just how good the Volkswagen is. The new 1953 car has a swell four-speed synchromesh transmission you can play as easily as a garden hose. The ride over rough roads is phenomenal. So help me, I’d swear under oath that this German oil can sops up tough bumps and chuck holes as well as, if not better than a Fleetwood Cadillac, even though its four-wheel suspension makes it surprisingly bow-legged when the car is jacked up.

Outside of a few minor faults, such as the bad location of the defrosters, I have only one or two more complaints. The front seats are poorly anchored and they are so placed that if you have any more shoulders than a piece of spaghetti you will find them pushing uncomfortably against the window. The ignition lock and key is a ring-tailed dilly. Unless you happen to be Jimmy Valentine’s father, you will find it almost impossible to get the key in the slot at night without a light, due to some weird serations on the lock. The choke on the car I tested was about as useful in cold weather as a raincoat on a duck. When the temperature falls to around zero and you need a choke the most, the wire freezes so hard that Hercules Ziloh the Bayonne Strong Boy couldn’t yank it out. When you finally do get the car going by hand-choking at the carburetor, it thaws out quickly and works fine.

Okay, you ask, how is its Fourth of July performance? It’s okay, period. Top speed is 66. Zero to 30 takes 7.9 seconds, zero to 40 goes 15.3. Zero to 60 takes a long 42.1. The car averages close to 50 miles on a gallon of regular gas and there is enough storage room to carry a winter’s supply of clothes for two people, using the back seat and a sort of storage bin behind that. Under the front hood next to the fuel tank there is enough room to store a weekend supply of shirts and cigarettes.

The Volkswagen is rated a four-passenger job and I drove it with four in the car, including Joe (in the back bin). But Uncle Herman, my honest relation, would spin in his grave like a pea in a whistle if I said my long-legged wife, sitting behind me, was comfortable. Four Singer Midgets, yes. Four jockeys, maybe. Four average-size guys, impossible. This is a good two-passenger job with two emergency seats for people with flat legs.

In summing up, the Volkswagen has an air-cooled pancake engine that is proving itself as reliable as the sun. The car makes » no effort at all to be stylish. It has absolutely functional looks that were not designed to be chic but to appeal to people more interested in transportation at low cost. The paint job and general trim are excellent. A close examination of even the smallest details, such as the wiring and heating system, will prove at a glance that regardless of price this is a quality automobile from one end to the other. I strongly recommend the Volkswagen to anyone interested in this type of car, for at the price (approximately $1,400) there is nothing better built in the world and few that are half as good.—Tom McCahill.

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MY TEN YEARS OF CAR-TESTING

Here are the fabulous hits and the colossal flops of Uncle Tom’s first decade as America’s “Mr. Car Test.”

By Tom McCahill

LAST MONTH we completed ten years of car-testing. More than 250 tests ago, in the February 1946 issue, Mechanix Illustrated published the first automobile test articles ever seen in America. Selling this series was tougher than trying to juggle pyramids as no other publication had ever had the guts to write both the good and the bad about Detroit. Since we started this controversial hassel, imitators have risen up like, mosquitoes in a tropical swamp and more guys have stolen our car-testing idea than you could find in all the Federal pens.

Selling the articles to MI was only the first step, perhaps the easiest. The hard deal was selling the manufacturers the idea of letting me run tests on their first post-war offerings. I was bluntly told by several, “We test our own cars and aren’t interested in outside opinions.” With hundreds of thousands of post-war orders in hand immediately after V-Day, many of the manufacturers were as independent as a bowl of garlic and their interest in Tom McCahill could easily be termed static. So, in order to keep this series from dying at birth, I donned my Liars’ Club suit and descended on the City of Steel Stampings in the guise of a photographer.

I took endless pictures of company big-shots smiling happily with their new cars. After that I would persuade the proud executive that I had to take the car for a short run into the country to get more flattering picture backgrounds. On these junkets I was usually accompanied by a company public relations man, whom I contrived to lose in one way or another while I borrowed the car “for a moment” and forgot to come back for several hours. Once I had managed to get one of the proud beauties alone, I drove hell out of it—and the results were the first professional automobile tests ever conducted for an American publication. Sometimes I had a little explaining to do, like the time when I was towed back to the factory at the end of a rope with a completely blown engine, or again when a roof got slightly flat on top from trying the car’s upside-down approach.

The 1946 Ford was the first car we tested. In the same issue we ran the first Buick test, which was done in an automobile I drove out of a freight car in the New York Central yards in New York. The Ford piece opened the door for later tests on Chevrolet and Plymouth. The Buick story helped me crack the higher-priced field. As Hugh Ferry, former President of Packard and Chairman of the Board, told me just a few days ago, “Everyone in the industry hated your guts—but we all respected you.” This was one of the biggest compliments I’ve ever had. When the copyists came along with their car tests several years later, the road had been smoothed for them by our articles.

The last ten years have seen a 20-foot shelf filled with automotive history. Quality has remained the same with some cars and has gone down with some others. New makes have been born and gone out of existence. The one thing that has continued to rise is the price. I bought one of the first 100 post-war Fords sold, in October 1945. This was loaded with extras, including a then-deluxe heater and radio, and it was the most plush Tudor model. I paid full retail price in New York, $1,184.00 delivered, including city sales tax. Today, that sum of money would just about get you a good outboard motor or a sharp team of harness goats.

The post-war era saw many attempts to pluck the billion-dollar bud from a car-starved market by men who never manufactured automobiles before. In 1945 and ’46 any guy with a slightly clean blueprint and a hazy idea for building a car immediately got thousands of volunteer backers who sank basketloads of money into these ventures. The most notorious and publicized company of them all was the famous Tucker. Hundreds of dealers signed up to handle this still-unborn car and thousands of dollars were invested in a vehicle which was heralded as the first new thing in transportation since they wheeled a wooden horse into Troy. Everything from its Cyclops Eye and streamlined body to its aircraft engine in the rear was all new.

We brought you the test of the Tucker in August 1948 and believe me, it was a lot closer to being off the ground and a success than anyone may think. When I tested this car, and I tested several of them in the spring of ’48, it was the best-performing automobile in America, by far. Despite some fantastic yellow journalism by some well-known publications, the Tucker car was in production, the assembly line was moving and they were building cars. I saw all this with my own eyes. The history of what really sank the Tucker will be truthfully written some day.

Another car that almost got off the ground but didn’t quite make it was the Davis three-wheeled car, the test of which appeared on these pages in August 1948. This was a tremendous-performing, agile car, designed on the original model built by Frank Kurtis in 1941 for the late Joel Thome, who killed himself and a lot of other people in 1955 by crashing his plane into a Hollywood apartment house. Thorne sold the original model to Davis, who started manufacturing in Van Nuys, Calif. Unfortunately for Davis, getting into production was too slow and the money went too fast.

Back in August of ’46 we brought you the test of the famous front-wheel-drive Kaiser, a copy of the Citroen system, that overnight became the rear-wheel-drive Kaiser. This car now has vanished, as have the Frazer we tested at the same time, the Crosley we first tested in July 1947 and a number of other cars, all of which flared like shooting stars on the horizon, only to disappear in an eye-blink. Among them were the Keller, Bobbicar, Playboy, Motorette and Jeepster. The last one to hit the dust seems to be the Aero Willys, which was around for several years.

The most successful new car of all the post-war offerings was the Nash Rambler, the story of which we brought you in May 1950, based on tests made in the fall of ’49. I was the first person, aside from a company official, ever to drive a Rambler much less test one. Back in ’48, the British MG started the sports car ball rolling and it has been snowballing ever since. Our test of the then-current TC model ran in the January 1949 issue and this write-up of the car, Mr. J. S. Inskip the distributor told me, started an avalanche of interest in foreign sports cars that hasn’t shown any sign of letting up to date.

In 1950, Briggs Cunningham brought a standard Cadillac 61 coupe to the Le Mans race and finished tenth with it. Immediately afterward, Cunningham started building his own Cunningham cars which swept all sports car racing in this country for several years. He barely missed winning the Le Mans race on two occasions, though he bagged a couple of third places. Cunningham did more for American sports cars than all others combined. Unfortunately, after five years he has deemed it advisable to shut his factory. The Cunningham car made its permanent niche in race history but it is no longer being built. We brought you the first story about the cars and the first personality yarn about Briggs himself (“Meet Mr. Sports Car”; October 1953 MI).

The performance of stock automobiles has risen tremendously in the last ten years and here are a few for-instances. My 1946 Ford, one of the hottest cars selling in the medium and low price range, could just eke out 84 mph after a helluva tune-up. Its 0-60 time was 21.5 seconds. A 1956 Ford can do over 100 mph in a breeze and will go from 0-60 in 11.8 seconds. In 1951 I personally won the National Speed Trial Championship in the first V8 Chrysler ever seen, three days before its official introduction, averaging 100.13 mph with a top speed of 104. The interesting point is that though this was just five years ago, this V8 Chrysler was the only car to top 100 mph. Four years later, in 1955, better than 90 per cent of the more than 300 American cars competing at Daytona topped the 100 mph mark by many miles an hour, with the Chrysler 300′s getting up to 130 mph with a 127 average.

As recently as 1952, my Mark VII Jaguar set a world’s record for sedans on Daytona Beach at 100.97 average, which wouldn’t even get you tenth place in today’s [Continued on page 198] cheapest production car trials, just four years later. The MG that fathered all the sports car interest dwindled in popularity, due mostly to the fact that its performance didn’t keep up with the times. For example, my MG still holds the record on Daytona Beach for MG’s, at 79.86, which any fast kid on a bike today should be able to top.

Hopping-up and hot-rodding, as it used to be, does not seem to have the appeal that it once had when we ran the MI Ford story back in February 1950. With Andy Granatelli of Chicago, we took a standard 1949 Ford Tudor sedan and gently hopped it up, showing the readers each step we made and exactly how much it cost. This was one of our biggest stories of all. That MI Ford could do 0-60 in ten seconds flat and had a top of 112 mph.

In late ’54, Ford introduced the Thunder-bird after its rival, Chevrolet, had come out with the Corvette just a year before. As this goes to press over 16,000 ‘Birds have been sold since introduction. My Thunderbird, in winning the American Production Sports Car Division at Daytona with top speed of 126.9 and an average of 124.4 (topping all the Jaguars and other foreign sports cars selling for less than $5,000) unfortunately ripped a big hole in the foreign sports car balloon. The ‘Bird was America’s first major attempt at building a sharp two-seater in many years and though its brakes and suspension were not made for tight road race circuits, it is an extremely fast car in a turnpike hassel and less than $100 spent on AirLifts and shocks could make it as solid as a rock. The tiny Volkswagen which we plugged years ago in 1950, while other “motoring journalists” were looking down their noses at them, is now the most popular import in the country, and the journalists are all raving.

From 1948 to March ’54 I was aided and abetted in every test by my Labrador retriever, Joe, who really loved speed and fine cars. Twice he was the official American team mascot at Le Mans where his picture appeared in all the newspapers. After his death, Joe’s widow Dinah got anew husband named Pinney who is all hunter and not interested in automobiles. One of their pups looks exactly like Joe.

In a general way the styling of today’s cars was originated by Studebaker in 1946 with the introduction of the notch-back sedan, a profile design that has been copied by all manufacturers. For several years after Tucker went out of business, other makers picked the Tucker’s bones clean and swiped not only its styling but its outstanding features. But the drawing-board kids of Detroit can take a sweeping bow for such monstrosities as wrap-around windshields, tubeless tires, chrome of water color quality and the greatest collection of undisciplined rattles known to man. Brakes are much better, payments are longer, but the quality in general is not as good as when I tested the first post-war cars. In those days, dime store instruments, cheap paint and rattles were something no factory would put up with.

Most of our cars are now fantastically fast compared to their counterparts of ten years ago, and starting with this year, manufacturers are on a safety kick campaign based on meaningless statistics compiled by brainy non-drivers who can tell you what your chances for survival are if you run head-on into a light pole at 20 mph but who look aghast when you ask, as I have, “What do you do when you go into a slide at 70 mph?” This Ivory Tower approach to safety is better than nothing— just about. Stock car doors still have to be strapped to keep from flying open in races. But the Detroit experts’ pitch for safety belts is good—one we’ve been plugging on these pages for over eight years, or just about six years before they thought it up.

Of the 1946 cars introduced in ’45 less than 15 per cent had automatic transmission. Today, these figures have been reversed and an automatic transmission is as standard as sour cream on pot cheese. Air-conditioning started coming into its own in 1955 and I predict that by 1960 it will be as common on all cars as heaters were right after World War II.

This has been a great ten years. MI Editor Bill Parker has asked me to predict what the car of 1966 will be like. Why? After all, you’ll need a helicopter to get over those H-bomb craters.

Favorite McCahillisms These comments by Uncle Tom about cars he has tested over the years have made Mi’s readers chortle loudest. For more, turn to The Editor’s Workbench, page 12.
Some small foreign engines wouldn’t pull a greased kitten out of bed. . .
The car was as stripped as a newborn oyster in a hurricane. . .
This little egg crate is like a box of matches exploding in your hand. . .
. . . It’s rugged, tough and reliable as the Rock of Gibraltar—and just about as fast. . .
. . . about as exciting as a pocketful of wet pancakes. . .
The brakes are excellent. . . capable of tossing Granny right through the windshield, if you time it right. . .
… accelerates like a homesick gazelle with a tail full of wasps. . .
. . . it vibrated and thundered like the butterflies in a Skid Row bum’s stomach on Sunday morning. . .
Sliding out the ashtray was as effortless as pulling a comb through my hair. . .
. . . fast enough to keep the flies off Aunt Nellie’s head as you whip over to the pool parlor. . .
A car in which hitting 110 is as easy as getting arrested. . .
. . . as smooth as an eel in a bucket of castor oil.. .
The instrument panel is as easy to read as a Marilyn Monroe calendar…
… a one-of-a-kind deal, like striped hair or a six-legged horse. . .
I felt as secure as a guy going over Niagara Falls in a canoe…
. . . put together like a Chinese laundry man’s version of a Western sand-

TOM McCAHILL SAYS:
“The appliance repair field is so uncrowded, it’s almost lonely!”