Stored Memories
Working on Mopars is one of my favorite things to do. Whether it’s something as simple as adjusting the pinion snubber closer to the floor in a few leisurely minutes or lashing valves in a mad afternoon thrash, every task generates its own set of memories. Some memories last a few days and are quickly “paved over” with new ones as the ‘ol Neck Top computer’s short term files get filled, dumped and renewed. Other memories can last – and haunt - for life. Here are some of my “keepers”.
I had a 1968 Dart GTS convertible back in the eighties. It carried VIN LS27P8B127284 and was a 340 car with a column shifter 727. One of 316 built, it was a pretty decent car but had the usual lumpy rust repair typical of New England machinery of the day. One detail I’ll never forget about this one is how the guy I bought it from had the original broadcast sheet but told me the original numbers matching Torqueflite was missing. It seems a previous owner was trying to install a floor mounted B&M shifter to take the place of the awkward factory-issue column shift setup. Well, he started drilling into the transmission tunnel. The first few floor shifter mounting holes went well but on the last one he just couldn’t seem to make much progress. He pushed down harder and harder until finally the drill broke through – the thick aluminum case of the Torqueflite. Yep, this bonehead drilled a 3/8-inch hole through the transmission and punched into the band and drum. Apparently, the Dart still drove but the constant spew of pressurized ATF was a deal killer. Was it fixable? Sure, but this genius took the easy path and swapped in another 727 he had laying around. So that’s how one rare Dart lost its original transmission.
Another blood curdling memory relates to a set of drag slicks I had. No, I’m not talking about how tire growth on my ’67 Dart almost punched my clock at Pomona, check out Steve Mags Speaks (December 2006 MoparMax) for a review of that caper. This spooky slick story goes back to about 1987 when I bought a set of used M&H slicks at the Stafford Springs (Connecticut) swap meet. They went on my ’68 Hemi Charger and immediately cured my traction problem. But I conveniently forgot about the fact they were well used when I got them every time I burned them before a run. They still had a tiny bit of the little crater wear-indicator dimples, but not much. One day I was getting the car ready for another night of street bashing down at ‘ol Route 67 between West Warren and Palmer, Massachusetts. As I ran my hand over the rubber I felt what seemed to be dry grass stuck to the top of one slick. I couldn’t see the debris as the slicks were mounted on the car. Thinking it was just some vegetation stuck to the tire surface, I tried to pick away at it with my finger nails. When it wouldn’t budge, I rolled the car forward and was greeted by the sight of fabric cords! Yep, I was probably one burnout away from testing how well the Hemi hooked on inner tube material. And to think I was running regular 106-mph trap speeds on these things just a few nights before.
