There was once a magic era when America built screaming, asphalt-gobbling, tire smoking, monster-motor muscle cars, and I’m happy to say that I still remember those days clearly, even though they were, in the immortal song by Don Maclean, “a long, long time ago”. Back during the “far out” 60’s and 70’s the game was for the Big Three to stuff giant, gas-gulping 426 Hemis, 427 Tri-Powers, and 429 Cobra Jets into the coolest-looking cars they could build and send them straight to the drag strip, Daytona, or even, in one case, to the local Hertz Rent a Car pool to create what became known as the most insane cars to ever emerge from Motown design studios-the rompin’, stompin’, all-American muscle car.
That these beasts couldn’t exactly stop on a dime and more or less plowed into turns didn’t seem to bother anyone-all that mattered is that they had bucket seats, some fat rubber, and that they could go, baby, go-and so fast that most insurance companies wouldn’t let a kid like me touch them, at least not without a responsible adult cosigning. But it wasn’t all about speed: the color palettes also reflected the magnificent excess and in-your-face audacity of these machines: “flavors” like Plum Crazy Metallic, Vitamin C, Hemi Orange, Go Mango, Top Banana Yellow, Sassy Grass Green, and Lime Light are just a few examples of the retina-popping, show-stopping paint schemes that were available. Back before I could drive, I used to dream about one day owning one of those iconic rides. Well, I’m happy to say I saw tons of them- nearly every make and model– at the American Muscle Car Museum in Melbourne, Florida last Veteran’s Day.
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Roads Less Traveled 