Classic 1960s Cars Archives - CARS // MOTORBIKES

AMC AMX

To all intents and purposes, the AMX was a stripped-down AMC Javelin. It was a foot shorter – and weighed a lot less. On its release – in February ’68 – it was the sole US 2-seater sports car. It stayed in production until ’74. If AMC stood for American Motors Corporation, AMX did the same for American Motors eXperimental.

When a car sets 106 speed records, you know you are onto something. When it does so in a month, you know you have hit pay dirt! So it was when Craig Breedlove got behind the wheel of an AMX, shortly after its launch. Unsurprisingly, AMC saw fit to mark his success – with 50 red, white and blue AMX Breedlove specials. Rewind to the real world, and top speed for the AMX roadster was 120mph. The SS version – complete with a 390ci V8 – made at least 340bhp, and probably a whole lot more. Muscle car stats at the time tended to be understated. Built with one eye on the drag strip, just 50 SSs were sold. Partly, that was because its price was supercharged, as well as its power! If you needed more muscle from a standard AMX, way to go was a Go Pack. It included a bigger 401ci V8 motor. Output duly climbed to 330bhp. The Go Pack also provided uprated brakes, suspension and wheels/tyres.

By ’71, though, the AMX’s hot shot days were numbered. At that point, the top-of-the-range Javelin ruled AMC’s roost. Come ’74 – and the end of its run – its superstar status was substantially reduced. In its day, though, the AMX was more muscular than most. And certainly more modish. Saying that, the Mustang gave it a run for its money in the stylishness stakes!

Daimler SP250 Dart

When first seen – at the ’59 NY Motor Show – the Daimler Dart was derided as an ugly duckling. The consensus was that the fins looked dated, the headlamps bug-eyed – and the grille a bit … well, fishy! Over time, though, qualms over the SP250’s styling subsided. Daimler was on a downswing in the late Fifties. New management sought to remedy that – by emulating Jaguar, Triumph and MG. Daimler, too, would produce a sports car for the American market. The potential problem was that Daimler lacked experience with sports cars. Indeed, the Dart was the only one the marque made. To get the ball rolling, it used the chassis and suspension set-up from the Triumph TR3. After that, Daimler turned to the bodywork. Which is when things started to go awry. The glassfibre shell Daimler designed seemed fine. Until the going got a bit rough – at which point the doors were liable to fly open! The writing was on the wall for the Dart as early as 1960. Jaguar then took over the SP250 project. Sir William Lyons was the new CEO. As well as being a top-flight manager, he was a stylist of high repute. Sadly, Lyons and the Dart did not see eye to eye. Its unwieldy form upset his creative sensibilities. One of them had to go. It would not be Lyons!

Prior to the Jaguar takeover, Edward Turner was managing director at Daimler. Before that, he had worked at Triumph – in its motorcycle division. His engine design work there had achieved widespread acclaim. Indeed, in the bike world, he was legendary. Some of that had rubbed off on the Dart. Indeed – courtesy of Turner – its motor was pretty much flawless. Torquey but smooth, it catapulted the lightweight Dart to a top speed of 125mph. 0-60 took 9.5s. The engine’s hemispherical combustion chambers – and twin SU carburettors – were key to its performance. Plus, the SP250 returned a respectable 25mpg. Best of both worlds, basically. Brakes-wise, a full set of Dunlop discs were fitted.

In a bid to drive up US sales, attempts were made to upgrade the Dart. It was given a stiffer chassis and bumpers – as well as a few more creature comforts than it had previously provided. From a marketing perspective, the SP250 was pitched between the cheaper Triumph TR and MGs – and the more expensive Jaguar XK150. 2,644 SP250s were built. Production ceased in ’64. The ugly duckling never did morph into a graceful swan. But, beauty is in the eye of the beholder – and Daimler Dart fans loved it all the same!

Lotus Europa

For all its power, the Lotus Europa was a sports car – not an F1 car! Yet – at least, up to a point – that was its raison d’être. Colin Chapman – head man at Lotus – wanted a roadster that handled like a racer. At any rate, he sought to simulate the mid-engined layout – now de rigueur in F1. Certainly, at just 42″ tall – and with a drag coefficient of only 0.29 – the Europa’s aerodynamic credentials were never in doubt.

The new car started out as the Lotus Europe. Trademark problems led to it being re-named the Europa. Handling-wise, the car was everything Chapman had hoped for. Road-test reviews were upbeat – at least as far as cornering was concerned. Steering was light – and the Europa perfectly poised. Key to the stability was rear suspension. It was comprised of lower wishbones and transverse top links. The Europa’s laid-back driving position made sweeping through bends a breeze. Brakes were suitably solid.

But, the Europa was not without flaws. Creature comforts were in short supply. And, with a heavy clutch – and jarring ride – the Europa was far from user-friendly. Side-window gremlins did not help. Rear vision – or lack of it – was not exactly a selling-point. To be fair, Lotus did address the issues. The Europa was given a mini-makeover. Built in Hethel, Norfolk, the car stayed in production until ’75. Almost 10,000 Europas were built – in a nine-year run. Its goal, then, was to bring F1-style handling to the roads of the UK. And – while that was, for a sports car, an impossible dream – it came as close to living it as any!

Ferrari 275 GTB

The Ferrari 275 GTB was not just beautiful to behold. It hit the technological sweet spot, too. Superlative suspension, for example, was brought to the Ferrari party – in a way not previously seen or felt. The result was a car which looked like $1m – and had handling to match. And, for once, the Ferrari engine – an alloy 60° V12 – was not the centre of attention. It was trumped by the transmission. For optimal weight distribution – and top traction – motor and gearbox were separate entities. The two were joined at the hip, on early models – by a slender prop shaft. Later, a stiffer torque tube did the job. Double-wishbone rear shock absorption had now been added to the mix. The 275 GTB was thus uniquely positioned to make the most of its 280bhp output. That came courtesy of a single-overhead-cam engine. 150mph was on tap.

Technical excellence was topped only by styling. Pininfarina did the design work. The steel body was coachbuilt by Scaglietti. They were based but a stone’s throw from Ferrari HQ. That was in Modena – a town with near-mythical status among the marque’s fans. Scaglietti fitted a multi-tubular frame – in familiar Ferrari fashion. The Borrani wire wheels sported a set of ‘knock off’ spinner centre hubs. A sporty 2-seater coupé, the GTB’s exterior was pure Berlinetta. The interior did not disappoint, either. Its finely-crafted focal point was the wooden Nardi steering-wheel.

Launched in ’64, there would be several versions of the GTB. ’65’s Series Two sported a longer nose and smaller air-intake. For ’66, the quad-cam GTB/4 came with six carburettors – as well as dry-sump lubrication. The wind-in-your-hair model – the GTS – was aimed squarely at America. Just 200 GTBs were made. The GTB marked the point at which Ferrari began transcending mere beauty – to deliver on every level. Of course, the perfect Sixties roadster does not exist. The Ferrari 275 GTB, though, probably came as close as any!

Maserati Ghibli AM115

The Maserati Ghibli AM115 was styled by Giorgetto Giugiaro. At the time, he was on the Ghia payroll. The maestro considered the Ghibli among his finest designs. It is not hard to see why!

Flat out, the Ghibli delivered 165mph. Even at that speed, suspension and handling were solid. And not withstanding its steel bodywork – meaning the Ghibli was no lightweight. Equally impressive were its four potent disc brakes.

Highest-spec Ghibli was the V8-engined SS. As you would expect, its torque curve was out of the top drawer. And from way down low in the rev range, too. A ZF 5-speed gearbox did its best to stay with it. Suffice to say, acceleration was not an issue! Capacity was 4,930cc. Power maxed at 335bhp. Just 1,149 Ghiblis were built. In ’67, the AM115 was a 2-seater supercar. Maserati were on a charge. Ferrari and Lamborghini – take note!

Ford Capri

The Ford Capri was European sibling to the mighty Mustang – a massive seller in the US. In essence, the Capri was a standard 4-seater GT. There would be many a variation on that theme, however … enough to give a spare-parts dealer palpitations! The Capri was manufactured in GB and West Germany. The first model came with the same 1.3-litre in-line four engine as the Ford Escort. In the UK, there were 1.6- and 2.0-litre V4 options. Add to that, a 3.0-litre V6. Germany weighed in with 1.7- and 2.3-litre versions. Stock-taking was already getting complicated. And that was before the cornucopia of trim options kicked in!

The entry-level Capri was the L. The XL was mid-range. At the top of the heap were the GT – and luxury GXL. Thankfully, the body shell was interchangeable. So were the struts – and beam rear axle. There were more parts choices, though, when it came to the 4-speed gearbox. Bigger engines had auto transmission as an option. All Capris had disc brakes up front – and drums at the rear. Rack-and-pinion steering, too, was standard – except for some of the 3.0-litre models, which were power-assisted.

Many a Capri was campaigned as a tin-top racer – often, with much success. They derived from a set of souped-up roadsters. The RS2600 Mk1, for example, was a German homologation special. It came with a fuel-injected 150bhp V6 … courtesy of top tuner Harry Weslake. In ’73, the British-built 3100 appeared – again, built for race homologation purposes. With its Weber carburettor – and over-bored V6 – it made 148bhp. These performance car Capris featured fat alloy wheels and quarter bumpers. The 3100 sported a duck-tail spoiler. Most sought-after of all, however, was the Capri 280 Brooklands LE. Ironically, it was one of the German-built cars! Nonetheless, with its swish leather seats – and British racing green paint – it was a fitting finale to the Ford Capri story. And – as for those overworked spares departments – it is just a shame databases were still in their infancy, at the time!

Lincoln Continental

It is not often that a car plays its part in history. Sadly, though, that was the case for the Lincoln Continental. For, it was while riding in the stretched Presidential version – through Dallas, Texas, in ’63 – that John F Kennedy was fatally shot. The Continental was tailor-made for affairs of state. The MkII Continental – released in ’56 – came with virtually every mod con going. Naturally, it was graced with a price tag to match. What distinguished it was its pristine lines and sober styling. Chrome and fins were in evidence. But nothing like so much as on most other highway exotica, of the time. The Continental packed serious gravitas. In short, it had class!

’61 ushered in the most iconic Continental of all. That was the legendary ‘clap-door’ model. It acquired the tag on account of its rear-hinged back door. To say the least, it needed to be opened with care. Backwards-looking visibility was not its strong suit. Beware passing motorcycles! The second the new Lincoln was launched, celebrities’ minders strong-armed their way to the showrooms. Before long, everyone who was anyone had gone Continental. The new car had the lot! Shapely elegance, lashings of luxury – and, courtesy of Ford – a rorty V8. The Continental’s top speed was 125mph. Its 3-speed automatic gearbox made it a breeze to drive – especially if you were in the ‘power-top’ convertible version. The Continental saloon ate straightaways for breakfast. Corners – it has to be said – were slightly less to its taste. 7.0- and 7.5-litre engines were fitted. Maximum output was 365bhp. So – performance-wise – the Continental was no slouch. And that was with 5,215lb of body mass to move.

The Continental was a crowd-puller from the get-go. With its bulbous nose – and ‘egg-crate’ grille – it was a magnet for passers-by. Subsequent models, though, were less charismatic. The MkIII Continental, for example, had all of the size – but less of the charm – of its spotlessly-styled predecessor. So meticulously built was the original that Lincoln lost money on it. Into the ’60s – and the Continental continued to pick up plaudits. It comprised, after all, the best of both worlds – American scale and European refinement. Brawn mixed with chic, so to speak. All in all, the Lincoln Continental was one of a kind. A fitting backcloth, then, for that doom-laden day in Dallas – when the whole of the world held its breath!

Studebaker Avanti

The Avanti was supposed to resurrect the Studebaker brand. Company president Sherwood Egbert dreamed up the car – as a means to inject some much-needed vitality into Studebaker’s corporate veins. Egbert’s choice of designer for the Avanti was astute. Raymond Loewy – who had previously penned the Coca-Cola bottle – was hired as stylist. Loewy went the minimalist route … at least, as compared with many of his contemporaries. Typically, Detroit-built cars of the time were mainly comprised of chrome and fins. The Avanti, though, exuded European restraint. Its glassfibre-forged lines were smart – but unshowy. On the inside, too, things were similarly sophisticated. Neat instrumentation – and leather bucket seats – were fully imbued with Italianate finesse.

But – just two years after the Avanti’s release – Studebaker was no more. The firm went into receivership in ’64. And that seemed like that for the new car. At the last, though, automotive saviours stepped in – in the form of Studebaker dealers Nate Altman and Leo Newman. In no mood to see the Avanti die, they bought the rights to it – and set about re-starting production. With Studebaker motors no longer around, Chevrolet Corvette units were sourced. The car was re-christened the Avanti II. The original had already received rave reviews. Now, it acquired sought-after status, too. Altman and Newman’s faith was rewarded. The Avanti Motor Corporation thrived … right up until ’82.

Technically, the Avanti impressed. Its V8 engine made 335bhp. That took it to a top speed of 145mph. The power was controlled from a comfortable cabin. 4,643 Avanti IIs were sold. In subsequent years, there would be further attempts to keep the car going. Like Loewy’s coke bottle, certain products seem destined to be with us forever. And – while not quite in Coca-Cola’s league – customised Studebaker Avantis are always appearing. Last seen somewhere in Mexico, apparently!

Dodge Charger Daytona 500

The Charger Daytona 500 was Dodge’s response to Ford dominance. Specifically, in the form of NASCAR racing. The Charger car had been competitive in terms of outright power. But, it had been held back by an excess of speed-sapping drag. The Charger 500 version was an attempt to redress the balance. The Charger’s nose was duly enclosed. Its rear window fitment now sat flush with its surrounds. Those two changes alone made a big difference. In the ’69 season, the 500 won 18 races. Unfortunately for Dodge, its biggest rival – the Ford Torino – won 30! More was clearly needed. In short order, the 500’s nose grew 18″. Most noticeably, the car sprouted a huge rear wing. The updated model was 20% more aerodynamically efficient. It was duly dubbed the Daytona. NASCAR’s tables had turned!

505 Daytona road cars were built. Racing homologation rules required it. Sadly – from a Dodge point of view – they did not sell well. But – just as the showroom dust was starting to settle – TV rode to the rescue. The Dukes of Hazzard series turned the Charger tide. Indeed, for many – in the guise of the General Lee – the Charger was the star of the show. Week after nerve-racking week, the Sheriff seemed in perpetual pursuit of the Dodge-borne Dukes. Though, thanks to its GM Magnum V8 engine – and the 375bhp it provided – the good ol’ boys were able to stay out ahead! For real-life drivers, there was the choice of a 4-speed manual – or 3-speed TorqueFlite – gearbox. Suspension was by torsion bars, upfront – and leaf springs, at the rear. Respectively, they were connected to disc brakes and boosted drums.

Ironically, the new nose and rear wing – game-changing for the Daytona racer – hindered the roadster. The added weight slowed it down. And it was not travelling fast enough for the aerodynamic package to really kick in. That said – if performance took a tumble – turned heads and double-takes turned up by the shedload. But, it was on the oval banking that the Charger truly came into its own. Buddy Baker, for instance, drove a Daytona to NASCAR’s first 200mph lap. That was in 1970 – at Talladega, Alabama. The Daytona was, after all, named after one of the world’s most iconic race-tracks. Luckily, the Dodge Charger Daytona 500 fully lived up to the legend!

Oldsmobile Toronado

Of all the cars to have been made in Detroit, the Oldsmobile Toronado must be one of the biggest. This two-ton leviathan hit the road in ’65. The Toronado was the first mass-produced American car with front-wheel drive. As a result, it handled better than its rivals. 60% of the Toronado’s weight was over the front wheels. Torsion-bar suspension sealed the deal, stability-wise. Plus, two of the four tyres Firestone made especially for the Toronado. They featured stiffer sidewalls – and extra grip. The wheels were slotted – the better to cool the finned brake drums.

Power was provided by a 7-litre V8. Dubbed the Rocket, the engine produced 385bhp. That gave the Toronado a top speed of 130mph. The motor was mated with a 3-speed Hydra-Matic gearbox. Rubber insulation smoothed the V8 vibes. The mill sat in a solid, perimeter-framed chassis.

The Toronado was ahead of the game in its looks, too. Clean and vibrant lines set it apart. Its headlights’ electric flaps were a sweet styling touch. Alec Issigonis – designer of the Mini – said large engines could never be successfully twinned with FWD. Automotive giant though he was – the Oldsmobile Toronado proved him wrong!