(first posted 12/22/2012) In the summer of 1986, I was home after my freshman year at engineering school when my Aunt Betty offered me a job driving for the courier service she owned. I told her that while I’d love to take the job, I didn’t have a car to get there. She responded, “I have an old Ford Pinto that you can keep for the summer. I was going to have you drive it for deliveries most of the time anyway.” Ah, sweet nepotism.
I drove that car all over northern Indiana and southwestern Michigan, running papers and small boxes to manufacturers. It was a great summer job, even though an old Pinto was neither a stylish nor, in this case, particularly reliable means of delivering anything.
The car’s color masked a fair amount of surface rust, but color couldn’t change the fact that most of the undercarriage was badly rusted. The floor pan had rusted through around two of the three bolts securing the front passenger’s seat, but my girlfriend was kind enough not to complain about how her seat bobbed considerably at every bump.
Our biggest customer was AM General, which made military Hummers. (I got to ride in them a time or two, which was a big thrill.) I ran papers among their Mishawaka, South Bend and La Porte plants all the time. I liked the La Porte run because it involved a long, straight and fast stretch of Indiana State Road 2 seldom visited by the Indiana State Police, if you catch my drift. On one run, the whole back end of the car suddenly started shaking violently. Instantly, dust and rust bits filled the cabin. As I slowed down, the shaking diminished. As I pulled over, it became a rhythmic “whap” that was clearly coming from the right rear corner. It turns out that my frugal aunt had put retreaded tires on the Pinto. Most of the tread on the right-rear tire was gone, and as it spun, the loose tread beat the bejebus out of the fender.
Fortunately, a good spare was stuffed in the uselessly tiny trunk, but when I cranked the jack into place against the car’s frame, the metal crumbled away. I couldn’t find a solid piece of frame anywhere so I could lift up that car. Thankfully, a previous driver had squeezed a bumper jack into the trunk and soon I was on my way.
The Pinto offered the La-Z-Boy driving position that was typical of several early 1970s cars: One leaned back deep in the seat, feet way out in front. It only served to magnify the Pinto’s low-to-the-ground stance, and it seemed like most other cars towered over me. Despite being a small car, the Pinto was fitted with a full-sized Ford steering wheel that rubbed my thighs no matter how I positioned my legs. Fortunately, the manual steering was light and easy once the car got rolling, and the wheel was easy enough to manage.
My Pinto had the 2.3-liter Lima engine, a version of which ended up in the 1980s Thunderbird TurboCoupe. Mine must have been mistuned, since it would accelerate right up to 30 mph from a dead stop without my touching the gas pedal. In sharp contrast to its overeager throttle, the Pinto’s brakes were vague and unassisted, so stopping could be a real adventure. After running many just-turned-red lights because I couldn’t get the Pinto stopped in time, I learned to take it slow in town and watch upcoming stoplights as far as I could see.
I also couldn’t back up the car, because its reverse gear had been stripped somewhere along the way. You’d think that would have taught me to always park so I could drive forward to get out, but I ended up pushing that car out of a parking spot about once a week. One client’s office was on a hill, and twice–meaning I didn’t learn the first time–I pulled into a space against their building only to have to push my car out later and then chase it down the hill. Have you ever caught a 3,000-pound car, rolling backwards and gathering speed, by an open door and tried to climb in?
Late that summer the car’s cooling system crapped out. After every trip of more than about ten miles, the radiator spat its contents through the overflow hose and onto the ground. I carried water everywhere with me until Betty finally put her in the shop for repair.
Really, this car was more hassle than it was worth; still, I loved it beyond all reason. It was the first car that was “mine” in that I didn’t have to share it with my dad and my brother. It also was part and parcel of a job that gave me a tremendous amount of freedom. The Pinto and I explored the highways, stopped at the 7-11 for Big Gulps, listened to top-40 music on WLS, soaked up sunshine all day–and I earned five bucks an hour for the privilege. That was great summer job money in 1986!
That’s why even all these years later, I get excited when I see a Pinto that’s still on the road. In idle moments I even occasionally troll eBay Motors’ Pinto section. Maybe one day I’ll find one in good nick.
All photos except the one of the engine are of my Pinto.
Its just hard to wax nostalgic about a Pinto, sorry.
Wander Indiana..I remember people ridiculing that phrase when that came out.
In 1974 I was looking at some new Pintos in Elyria Ohio. The pollution junk somehow
made the car run like crap, idle wise. I had a 1972 Wagon years later…good on gas.
I came to make the same comment. The slogan seems fitting for a teenager’s first shot at freedom, though.
Wander is not a county?
No, but it does describe how many of my fellow Hoosiers drive. I had some relatives who lived in LaPorte, back in the sixties, and one of their neighbors had a son a year or so older than me. We became friendly over the years as my family would visit. I can remember blasting out highway 2, in Greg’s well used Dodge Dart, listening to WLS and drinking Drewry’s beer. Good times.
Nice story. I liked Pintos and wanted to buy one when I was young and the car first came out.
The only way to own a Pinto is to buy a new one, though. Cars can never be restored to as good a condition as when they were new. Rust repairs fail and the paint peels and there you go again. That said, I wish there was a car designed to be easily repaired by the owner these days.
Thanks for the memory!
Great writeup! Those were some kind of huge bumperguards.
It was the saber-toothed Pinto!
Lol 😀
Great story. The closest I can come is a summer in college when I drove a delivery van for a little auto parts supply company. This was around 1980 and the van was a 71-ish 3/4 ton Chevy van. Unlike your story, this vehicle did not endear itself to me, but had the opposite effect. I despise Chevy vans to this very day.
I do recall a time when Pintos were everywhere. In northeast Indiana, every one of them over about 4 years old was a rusted Pinto. Yours must have been more rusted than most, given a constant life on salt-covered roads every winter. But as bad as they were, we all knew that they would be worse if they were Vegas. I kind of liked the early ones, but once those huge bumpers went on, they lost me.
In 1972, we took a family trip – me, my little sister, Dad and stepmom. We rented a car and stepmom was enthralled with a new Pinto and thought it would be fun. Somehow we crammed all four of us and luggage into the thing. It was miserable, with my sister and I in the back with luggage on our laps. It was not even a hatchback, but the one with the teeny trunk. It made me appreciate the Plymouth Fury III we rented at another stop (and once with the Pinto must have been enough for stepmom, too.)
The Pinto’s back seat was awful. I remember riding in the back of one as a small boy and finding the seat back always in the way of my short legs. And getting in and out required a shoehorn. Luggage on your lap? How dreadful.
These were good enough personal cars in those days, but forget it if you had more than one passenger.
I’ve got a great story about driving for my aunt Betty in the one Chevy van she had among a fleet of Fords. I vastly, vastly preferred her Fords.
http://blog.jimgrey.net/2010/01/11/frozen-glue/
Show a little respect. In the early 70’s, the Pinto was the low buck terror in B-sedan SCCA autocross. Get the 2.0 liter engine with the four speed, beef up the shocks, add a couple of sway bars, and you had a car that could almost run with the BMW 2002’s that were killing the class.
Of course, the SCCA-types hated the cars (and the also competitive Vega GT’s) because they were American. And only rubes and rednecks drive ‘Murican cars, of course. They spoiled the Euro-pristineness of the gatherings.
I can remember going to the SCCA races at Nelson’s Ledges in Ohio back in the 80’s and seeing swarms of Pintos racing in B-Prod. They were the inspiration for me hopping up my 1979 Pinto ESS, although I never took mine as far as the race prepared ones were equipped.
Back in the late 80’s, a buddy of mine and I were doing some SCCA racing, and we briefly considered going into B-Prod, using either a Vega (which his brother owned, but turned into a drag car instead) or a Pinto. It never happened that way, we did some autocross with a hopped up Dodge Omni (before his wife got jealous of the time requirements of it all)…
Just to pick nits, Pintos and similar “sedans” (Datsun 510 etc) raced in B Sedan. B Production was sports cars, typically small block Vettes, though also GT350 and small block Cobras, until those became too valuable and were raced mostly in historic races. A Prod was big block Vettes, and H Prod was Fiat 850 and Bugeye Sprite, with other cars classified by potential performance, not displacement, in between.
@dman: You are correct. Sorry for the confusion, I got the names of the two classes interchanged in my mind, but not in reality…
My friend had a darker brown ’75 Pinto in mint condition! She babied it. And it really was a nice car despite the warning that if you got into a rear end collision it would explode. She had all sorts of stuff hanging around the rear view mirror! And washed it constantly (sounds like someone I know).
Those sound like nice memories Jim! I think I may even have an old magazine around here that has a Ford Pinto ad in it.
A friend of mine bought a new 1973 Pinto Squire wagon. It had a four speed manual trans, and was loaded with options. He loved it, and I thought it was pretty cool; like a compact woody wagon. It had a nice interior, and a lot of room with the back seat folded down. We could haul a couple of big amplifiers and our guitars, with room left over.
He put a lot of miles on it, and eventually had the engine rebuilt. He sold it to a friend who was a roofer. The roofer strapped a big ladder to the roof rack and filled the back with tools. He drove it for a long time, too.
I’d like to find one of these with the “Cruising Wagon” option.
I learned to drive in my Parents 1971 Pinto. Dark green, 2.0 with auto trans. While learning with my Father in the passenger seat whistling I slightly moved the wheel back and forth to get a feel for the steering. He stoped whistling. A few minutes later he was back to whistling and just for fun I wiggled the wheel again. The whistling stoped.
My fond memories of Pintos mostly involve the former girlfriends who owned them. Not to stereotype, but by the mid-80’s the Pinto had definitely become a “chick’s car” out here. In addition to the Cruisin’ Wagon with the portholes, I vividly remember the Hot Pants Kit trim option. And not all SCCA Pinto’s were used on the track; I remember quite a few wagons used as tow vehicles for Formula Fords and Vees.
My family had three Pintos:
1) After several years as a one-car household, around 1977 (when I was about six years old) my parents decided that my mom needed her own car, and bought a used ’74 Pinto. It was a yellow sedan. My mom kept it until 1982, when it was replaced by a used ’78 Buick Century aeroback 4-door sedan.
2) Around the same timeframe in which my mother had the yellow Pinto, my grandmother had a dark green 1974 Pinto station wagon; I think my mom’s Pinto came first. My grandparents lived next door to us, so I rode in their cars often. I can’t remember what the Pinto replaced. My grandparents had a whole series of Fords in the mid-to-late ’70s, all acquired used, and I can’t remember exactly what order they came in. When my grandfather died in 1979, I believe they had the Pinto wagon, a late ’60s Ford pickup, and a ’71 Maverick 4-door sedan that was off the road and not running. My grandmother kept the Pinto wagon and got rid of the other two cars.
3) By 1982, when the Pinto wagon was getting long in the tooth, one of my uncles got my grandmother a replacement: a 1980 Pinto sedan, featuring the odd front end styling that Ford had introduced for the 1979 model year. It was a shade of blue that I would describe as kind of dark, yet at the same time kind of bright (I don’t know if anyone knows what I mean), and I recall that it had some kind of pinstriping on the side. She had it for about ten years, after which it was replaced by a 1986 Plymouth Reliant 4-door sedan, which would turn out the be the last car she owned before she gave up driving. When I was in my late teens and early twenties, the ’80 Pinto was my backup car if mine was in the shop or if I was between vehicles. I remember that it had power steering, but did not have power brakes.
In addition to the above, my wife briefly had a Pinto when she was a teenager in the ’80s, before I met her. I never saw it and she doesn’t have any pictures, but I believe hers was a ’78 Runabout (hatchback).
From my experience with these cars, I definitely remember the “sitting on the floor” seating position. Also, while not quite as extreme as the way Jim described his, my grandmother’s ’80 also had that tendency to take right off when you put it in drive. I remember that it was very different in this respect from other cars I drove during that period.
Minor correction, MCT, the 4 door Maverick did not come out until the ’73 MY
No he’s correct 1971 was the first year for the 4 door Maverick and Comet.
http://www.oldcarbrochures.com/static/NA/Ford/1971_Ford/1971_Ford_Foldout/1971%20Ford%20Foldout-04.html
In the late 70s, I had the Mercury Bobcat as a rental. Must have been in my days of finding the cheapest agency, perhaps Budget or National, but they had a boatload of these. Blinged (sort of) out, automatic tranny, and some kind of A/C. Not as gutless as the 1.6 liter Datsun wagon (had to kill the Datsun’s A/C to get up the “steep” Indiana turnpike hills), but pretty bad.
The freeway trip from Chicago to Champaign, IL (about 120 miles one way) was about the most boring one I had. However, given the ’64 MGB I had in college with 1) holes where the rocker panels should have been–a thrill on cold winter days 2) sticky throttle cable (also in cold weather) and 3) a tire that shredded, boring wasn’t a bad thing.
Anyone remember the commercial jingle …. “Love that Bobcat!” ? Sounds like you didn’t.
I had a 1979 Pinto ESS, painted exactly like the one in the pix. I bought the car when it was 5 years old with 20K miles on it, as a respite between my 1983 Pontiac Trans Am money pit and my 1985 Mercury Capri RS money pit.
The car was in excellent condition for being five years old in the rust belt, not a spot on it, the interior was pretty good too. But the car had never seen a garage with it’s previous owner, so the silver paint had started to flake. On top of it, the car had never seen an oil change, either, as I found out when I went to do maintenance after purchase. I destroyed the oil filter trying to get it off and the gasket had fused to the engine block. It took me hours to scrape it clean. It was really hard to get at. No matter what, whenever I look at a car, I always check the dipstick to see what condition the oil is in…
I believe because of that issue with the lack of oil changes, the engine developed a rear main seal leak, other gaskets on the engine leaked too, but the rear main seal is obviously important. I neglected to check the oil level for a couple of weeks, on the way home from work one night, the car ran out of oil and spun the cam bearings. Instead of scrapping the car and getting another one for myself (my then girlfriend, now wife was driving the 85 Capri RS), I decided to get some Racer Brown parts for the Lima motor and wake it up a bit.
I got a new higher lift cam, a 400 CFM two barrel Holley, new intake, some head work, a header and a 2.5″ exhaust system with a turbo style muffler. I bought some General XP2000 tires, the really good Performance Friction brake pads and discs to round out the transformation of the car. A local engine builder (who worked with me and my buddies who raced) did me a solid and put the whole thing together for me.
For what it was worth, the smoggy 2.3 with all of the parts did perform better. It was fun to drive on the hilly, windy roads of my native Northeast Ohio. But even then, the fastest Pinto is still slower than the slowest Mustang (or something like that). I was young, making my own (decent) money and I really liked the RS that my better half was driving.
So, the Pinto got sold to a mechanic at the local L-M dealership, the same one where I got my 1986 Mercury Capri RS. He really liked my old Pinto, but frankly I was much happier with the V8 Capri.
I actually liked the look of the ’79 and ’80 Pintos/Bobcats more than earlier versions. The bumpers with the black end caps were pulled in tighter to the body and just looked so much better IMO. I believe these bumpers were also lighter aluminum for those two model years as well.
They were still POS but were better looking POS!
I feel the same way. Pre-79 facelift the Pinto looked dumpy, post-79 facelift the Pinto looked like a dumpy Scirocco. Beats the 81 Escort that replaced it.
Interesting observation, and spot on in my opinion. Though I would perhaps say curvaceous Scirocco, rather than dumpy. The Pinto had many faults, but styling really wasn’t one of them, especially with slant-nose facelift and the right bumpers. Of course the Vega was even better; really the Gremlin was the only ugly subcompact, and even the the final Spirits could look very nice.
Your story reminds me of the delivery job I had, working for an International tractor and equipment dealer in Seattle. (Howard-Cooper Co.) Their vehicle that I drove most often was a 1957 or 1958 International pickup, six, three-speed. It had the radio fastened to the roof above the center of the windshield. The guy who’d had the job before me showed me all the quick routes around Seattle that he knew, and I found others on my own. In a job like that you soon learn which streets you can make good time on, and which ones to avoid. There was one time when a co-worker and I drove to the IH truck dealer in Tacoma to pick up a brand new 1960 International pickup that HC had just bought. It too was a six, with a 4-speed granny box. I got to drive it back to Seattle, and I have to say that this thing was a clunk when it was brand new. Being a Cornbinder, everything in and on it was heavy; no power steering of course; and it was just no fun to drive at all. My father’s 1949 KB-11 6-wheeler steered better.
That bit about chasing the car downhill was among the funniest things I have ever read. Only a teenager would have the naive confidence to think that this would turn out well – ah, youth. I definitely think you should take the plunge and buy a Pinto. I recently purchased a car like the one I grew up with and it never fails to put a smile on my face when I see it parked in my driveway.
The ’78 Buick Century mentioned in my earlier post was eventually passed down to me when I got my driver’s license in 1988. By the time I got it, it had a problem where it would stall if you drove it in reverse uphill. Even a slight incline would cause it to stall. I can remember my friends trying to come up with scenarios where the car could become permanently trapped somewhere, but I never managed to do it.
At the time, I worked at a supermarket. My co-workers and I would park our cars by backing them up against an adjacent building. The parking lot sloped up slightly as you approached the building, enough to make the Buick stall. When parking there, I would always be sure to give it a little bit of gas so I could build up enough momentum to carry all the way to the back of the space once it inevitably stalled. If I didn’t, I’d have to put it in neutral, let it roll forward out of the space onto level ground, re-start it and try again backing up again.
I can think of this vintage Pinto without thinking of Clarise Starlings well worn Pinto from 1990’s Silence of the Lambs.
i learned to drive stick on my dads 77 pony pinto in blue metallic. it’s that or walk! he’d bellow, may he rip. but yeah i took off for the joys in albany, … he got an 81 escort as well, pony in sky blue. i think he had a 79,and an 85 escort lx as well as a lynx 4 his new wife. see ford was the only american dealer left in ny stateline.
that back seat felt like a death trap, you could not get past someone sitting in the seat. must less get out of your own seat if you weren’t 20 like i was.
Your comment about the floor rusting out reminded me of my 74 Pinto. I had to wedge a 2×4 under the driver’s seat ( it ran from under the clutch pedal to the back seat ) to prevent the seat from falling through the floor. I could see the road beneath me as I drove. The only things that worked in the interior were the cigarette lighter and the radio — all the door and window cranks broke, the interior lighting stop working, rearview mirror fell off, etc. Never a problem with the drivetrain though.
I also owned a 71 Pinto. You could pull the shifter right out of the tranny. Me friends kidded me that it could be used as an anti-theft device ( just remove the shifter and throw it in the trunk ), but in reality the car was not worth stealing……
Pinto’s rock.
I drove a 78 Pinto van with the fishbowl side window, in the summer of 87 home from college. This brings back lots of memories — the lean-way-back seating position and squeezing my legs under the giant steering wheel. With an automatic it was incredibly sluggish, which combined with the abysmal rear visibility of the van body made it a worrying proposition changing lanes.
Comparing that dinosaur to my friend’s jewel-like Accord put me off American cars to an extent that still lingers today.
Yes, they still are like that today……thats why I dont buy Mazdas, rotarys suck!.
We bought Pinto wagons from Purolator Courier. They had many, many miles but the odometers had flipped. All were white. We would buy the drivers seat and carpet from a wreck and add genuine Ford fake wood. They were one or two years old and had been washed frequently. They looked good and the cheap car lots couldn’t get enough of them. Some had shiny replacement engines or transmissions. There were a lot worse things to drive.
My dad worked for Purolator Courier for many years. I didn’t remember that they used Pinto wagons, but your post is ringing a bell faintly in the back of my mind. During any time I was old enough to remember, I think they used Econolines as their main delivery vehicles, so it would make sense that if they needed a lighter vehicle they would have gone with a Ford product. I think my father still has a small die-cast Econoline made up to look like a Purolator truck.
My dad started out with American Courier in the early ’60s. American Courier than became Purolator Courier when Purolator Corporation (a manufacturer of automotive filters) bought it. He continued with Emery after they bought Purolator Courier around 1985 and with Consolidated Frieghtways after they bought Emery Air Freight in 1989, until getting laid off in 1990. So I guess he was with Purolator Courier for the entire time the company existed in the U.S. under that name. After Emery bought Purolator Courier, the Canadian divison was spun off as a separate company, and still exists there, with no connection to the current makers of Purolator automotive filters.
My father once told me that in the American Courier days, they used to use full-size Chevy station wagons. Before the advent of full-size vans, they also used Chevy Suburbans and International Travellalls. I’ve heard a story several times about one of them (I think it was a Travellall) losing its hood during a snowstorm on Interstate 84.
These mid-western tales of Rust Gone Mad never cease to amaze my provincial Pacific Northwestern brain. The only car in my family that I can recall rusting to any significant degree was my grandfather’s white 1959 Ford work car, which he named “Stinky.” He was in the oyster business, so Stinky got parked out on a dock and was exposed to quite a bit of salt air.
During my 70s-80s northern Indiana kidhood, rusted cars were a fact of life.
The first real accident I ever had, at age 16, involved rear-ending a Pinto absolutely identical to this one (including the bumper guards). I hit it with a ’71 Skylark sedan. Totally destroyed the right front corner of the Buick, because I was braking hard and swerved at the last moment. The Buick’s front end was in a dive, causing the bumper to just clip the bottom of the Pinto’s rear bumper, obliterating the Buick’s right-side headlights and front fender. The Pinto? The left tail-light was cracked, but still worked. Truth is stranger than fiction.
Here in Texas Pinto’s did not rust near as fast as Indiana. So in the 80’s they were everywhere. I bought my first one in August 86 for $300. Light Blue Wagon with 2.3, 4-speed, AC and AM radio. It actually never broke down in the 5 months I owned it. Use to go to Dallas/Ft. Worth to the $20 junkyard sales (anything you could carry out the gate was $20) for other cars I had, or for friends who needed parts. I traded it on Dec. 26, 1986 for my first new vehicle I ever bought, a 87 F150. Got a $200 trade-in. In March 98 I bought a Brown 76 Wagon for $600. It was fairly heavily loaded for a economy car. It had 2.3, 4-speed, AC, AM radio, Power Steering, Protection Group, Roof Rack (without the air deflector), and Conveince Group (which included interval wipers!). I bought it from a friend who had bought it from the original owner. The owner had also had Dealer Installed Cruise Control put on and it still worked even then! I drove it until May 05, when one Saturday night after I had gone home and went to bed, it had a wiring fire that for all intents and purposes ended it’s days as viable transportation. However, the next day I hooked up the battery and it started right up and I drove it onto a trailer. For the next year, I used it at the storage shed to move parts. Then I stripped what was still good on it, and called the salvage yard. I currently own two 78’s, a Sedan that was wrecked in 1979 with 12,084.3 miles on it that the owner bought back from the insurance company and then stored in it a shed until I bought it for $100 in 2002, and a 78 wagon with the Cruising wagon Package that I bought out of some guys back yard in Iowa Park Texas for $50 in 2001. I also bought a 79 Thunderbird from the same guy. Also forgot to mention that I bought a 77 Sedan for $50 in 2001 for parts. It too is also long gone. So I like Pinto’s and never seemed to have the trouble others had with them. Mine (except for the parts cars obviously) were good reliable transportation. If you all want to know more of what I own and drive today, I am listed as “stilldriveem” on the automotive section of city-data.
The first car I remember being shuttled around in as a kid was my mom’s ’75 Pinto Squire Wagon, baby blue with the wood inserts. I don’t remember much of anything remarkable about it, it seemed reliable enough (even moreso than the ’83 Volvo 240 brick she traded it for some years later). Pintos were EVERYWHERE growing up in the south in the late 70’s-early 80’s, and the salt-free environment kept many of them a part of the landscape well past 1990. I’ve probably only seen one or two “in the wild” here in Houston over the last 5 years.
Oh, I just remembered, my dad also had a ’73 or ’74 Pinto sedan, based on his retelling, probably the same color as the one in the story (this was when I was a verrrrrry little kid, so I have no recollection of it…so I guess were were a 2-Pinto family for a while). It got caught in a flooded street on the way to work one day, so my dad put it in gear, started the engine with the foot off the clutch, and “leaped” his way out of the high water and back to safety.
When l was on LA/Orange Co for a few months in 1986 was amazed at all the Pintos still running. All rusted away back home. However, no Chevy Vegas running then.
Still a few left, and at those asking prices they will be available for a long time…
I can’t remember the last time I saw a Pinto on the road. I feel a bit nostalgic about them, because my family had three of them(and a Maverick) when I was growing up in the ’80s-early ’90s. The back seat was a scary place to be as a kid. I was acutely aware of the gas tank issue as a 7-year old. My dad assured me that ours had the big bumpers, so there was nothing to worry about.
Anybody mention the incredibly ugly hood ornament pictured?
Totally reminiscent of my pinto days. I didn’t have one opinion about cars in 1977, when my dad bought it for 2000$, quietly offering it to me after graduation that year. It seemed nice, it was a metallic brown with a cute pin-stripe on it with red/white, striped hub caps. The interior had beige vinyl, AM radio, heat, hard steering and brakes.
Something “went’ in it one day when me and my boyfriend were driving along, that smelled like rotten eggs. It polluted every street we drove down. We were both ducking and laughing. Those were some of the youthful, carefree days of my past.
Today, I lost my BMW750Li to bad economy–driving a 1996 broken down Jeep Cherokee now– and I am HUMILIATED each time I am seen in it! I wish I had the disinterested, care free attitude of my youth back! I didn’t worry about ‘status’.
In late 1976 I was looking for a car to replace my trouble-prone 74 Audi Fox. My father got me to shop at the Ford-Mercury dealership owned by an old friend of his. Being the end of the year, that dealership had nearly a half dozen or more Pintos, Bobcats, and Mustang IIs but most were really ugly color combos and nearly every single one had the 4 cylinder engine with automatic transmission combo. Wanting a car desperately, I settled on a very appealing pastel yellow Mustang II. It was sold already. I was then told that the dealership owner has some cars up at his house and he thought a blue Pinto was among them. I wound up buying a Pinto MPG hatchback but regretted not springing for the Granada sedan parked next to it. That Pinto was trouble-free for the 2 years I owned it but the 23 mpg it got would be the same mpg the 6 cylinder powered Nova that replaced it got.
Saw this crusing wagon recently.
In the seventies, a buddy drove one of these for a drugstore delivery service. He beat the living shit out of that thing. It also rusted out beyond belief. Being light blue, it was very noticeable. Also, Fred Flintstone would have been right at home with the holes in the floor. Further, somehow my buddy had managed to convince the manual transmission that depressing the clutch to shift gears was entirely unnecessary, so he just thrashed through the gears. I don’t think he ever locked it or rolled up the windows at night when the run was over.
When my pal got his own car, a used Road Runner, he treated it a tad better, mercifully. I will say this, that damn Pinto was one tough car to stand up to the punishment it received.
I think Ive seen two of these Pinto since they came out new, this market got Cortinas from the UK instead and the occasional Aussie version too, they arent without faults either but fewer than what I read of about Pintos, very 70s colour.
“Have you ever caught a 3,000-pound car, rolling backwards and gathering speed, by an open door and tried to climb in?
Yes.
That line just made me think of the scene in “The Gods Must Be Crazy” where the hapless biologist has to chase after his Land Rover (which had no brakes if I remember correctly) after stopping to open a gate and unsuccessfully attempting to chock the wheel.
Edit: That is to say, this scene: https://youtu.be/AIBldJ9YmmM
Me too… with a 3,562 pound 1998 Buick Regal GS… on I-895’s left shoulder after an emergency stop. Quite embarrassing….
Needs this sticker. . .
A long time ago, maybe 1984, I was out on a cruise inn whereby we went from one car gathering in a large convoy to another car gathering. In my ’83 T-Bird, I was following a Pinto that was hopped up for performance, complete with a built 302 and Mickey Thompson’s on the back. Between the taillights was a big danger sign like that one that simply said, “COMBUSTIBLE”. I made a point to follow at a safe distance not to rear end the guy, what with all the media hype at the time about these and other Fords going BOOM!
I dig that sticker. And the historic Joisey plate, too.
I have a soft spot for the Pinto. I always liked the wagon.
This one is interesting as well.
https://www.hemmings.com/classifieds/dealer/ford/pinto/2140730.html?refer=blog
The Pinto/Boobcart is on my list of cars I’m glad I almost never have to see and hear any more.
In the 1970s when these Pintos (and other turkeys) were new, it occurred to me that “low-priced” domestic car buyers used to get such better cars for their money. An early ’60s Falcon or Comet, a late ’50s Ford Custom 300, a ’57 Chevy, or even a ’57-’58 Studebaker or ’59-60s Lark or Rambler was superior in craftsmanship, solidity, seating comfort, and reliability (even when they were older). They were also nicer to look at.
This reinforced my belief that I was living in a malaise period–the “Good Old Days” were over. I felt that there should have been a car-buyers’ revolt–people should buy and fix up the older models and drive them instead. However, this never happened–motorists kept buying the cheesy, stalling, plastic-y dreck the manufacturers were putting out, just because it was “NEW”.
Ordinarily I’d point out that those cars you mention were inferior to the newer models’ safety, but.
Aesthetically it’s sorta cute, for a Brazilian it will look familiar, it has the same nose of the Ford Corcel Mk I (indeed Corcel received the Pinto’s snout), the same rear job of our local Chevette hatch, but with the same tail lights of the earlier series of our local Ford Maverick. But dat name… pinto in Brazil means dick… those beautiful and imposing Pinto horses are known as Calico here.
That Pinto is a dead ringer for the first car I hit, right down to the poverty caps and “bear-shit” brown paint. One month after getting my first car, a ‘71 Skylark sedan, in late ‘79; on a rainy evening I rear-ended a ‘75 Pinto. The wheels locked up on the wet pavement, and at the last moment I swung the wheel left. Due to the hard braking, hard left turn, and an undersized RF tire, my RF bumper under-rode the LR bumper of the Pinto. The damage to the Buick was pretty substantial, as it took out the headlights and crushed the fender back to the wheel well. The Pinto’s chrome railroad tie didn’t appear bent, nor did it even crack the taillight. I do think the Pinto’s unibody was slightly bent, but only because the driver said his door didn’t shut right, afterwards. He spun around 90 degrees and put a minor scrape with his bumper guards into the side of a ‘75 Granada next to him.
I had been pulled over the evening before because my LF headlight was out. As luck would have it, the same cop responded to the accident. His very first words to me were: “Now your other headlight doesn’t work…”
A friends brown Pinto. My thoroughly beaten ’68 Plymouth. Spring Break road trip. Tulsa to Daytona Beach in the 70s. Meet local friend with newer Dodge van. What a party. What a memory.
The owner decided his Pinto needed to touch the ocean. One untimely wave later, the Pinto needed a tow and new starter. A variety of electrical problems plagued the car all the way back to Tulsa. Wiring and a salt water bath. What could go wrong? Geez we were idiots. Had a police report been made, the “Alcohol Involved” box would have been completely blacked out.
The Plymouth? A West Virginia rust bucket, but no mechanical problems. Was my last car before the Army. Friend’s Dodge van? Who knows. Never saw him again.
Actually the Pinto wasn’t a bad car for this trip as we only had 6 people. 4 in the Plymouth, 2 in the Pinto.
Life was good.
Years later during a fatherly lecture to my own son, he said, “Dad, please let me enjoy a few years of being young and stupid while I’m still young.” A good reminder to me of how rarely I followed the advice I so freely gave when it was my turn to enjoy “young and stupid”.
I bought a new brown metallic ’74 Pinto wagon, sans phoney wood! It had the pos 2.3L 4 and the best 4 speed (From English Fords) I ever drove; the transmission was the best thing about the lil wagon. I sold it b4 ’74 was over and bought a used ’69 Nova, 230 c.I. 6. Overall much better basic transportation, even in snowy, cold Wisconsin. The Nova’s heater did HEAT, unlike a Pinto…:(
OTOH, the ’71 Pinto HB I later bought upon going back to California, had the English pushrod 1.6 and 4 speed….fine lil car!! 🙂 DFO
Everyone has a Pinto memory it seems! They were *everywhere* in the 70s and into the 80s.
I don’t. My mom had a Vega…
Do you still own this Pinto?
At least you got to listen to WLS.
Sing it with me: eighty nine, double-you-ell-ess, Chi-ca-goooo!
Am I the only young nut who wound a copper-colored Pinto (1975, manual trans, no options) up to a speedometer-measured 100 mph on route 95 back when no one travelled it between DC and Baltimore (1980)? Really? Only me?
A Towson cop smashed into me in the fall of 1981, and that was the end of my Pinto stories. (I did get to go to court to ensure he had to keep his ticket for running a red light).
I got my Pinto up to 90 twice. That’s all I’ll say about that.
We must have had the same car. The fastest I drove mine was a paltry 85mph from Austin to Ft. Worth, Texas very late at night. Thank, God, for the CB radios. That was sometime around ‘76-‘77.
I had an identical ‘75 Pinto sedan with stick shift. II was my first car bought brand new in June of ‘75. The color is Deep Metallic Orange. There wasn’t any “Fecal Brown”. I doubt that FMC would name a color after feces. I was a student at The University of Texas. The Ford color should have been “Burnt Orange” because it was identical to our school color. It didn’t have a radio or AC when I bought it. I installed a Radio Shack AM/FM 8-Track right after I bought the car, and had AC installed a few years later. My dad bought a Chilton’s repair manual for me, and I did my own tune-ups, brake jobs, and replaced the starter, water pump, hoses, etc. by myself. Generally it was a good car for those days. Most American made cars weren’t nearly as reliable as they are today. I kept it 5 years and put 101,000 miles on it. There were a lot of good memories made in that car!
Here’s a photo of my little brother, my mom, and me with my ‘75 Pinto. The gas cap was a locking one I bought at a local auto parts place. Crooks were siphoning gas from cars in our vast parking lots at UT-Austin.
BTW: That color was called “Deep Copper metallic” As a student at UT-Austin when I got it, I called it Burnt Orange. It was my first car bought by my grandparents for an early graduation present. I had just finished my sophomore year at Texas. There were lots of good times in that Pinto.
Do you still own your Pinto?
We were just reminiscing about my ’74. First car that was totally mine in ’78. BTO Takin Care of Business, sun roof open on a gravel road in northern Indiana. Ah, the first tastes of freedom.
Any driveability problems were usually due to a leak in one of the 1402 vacuum hoses.
Drunk idiots took it away via driving right through a stop sign and into me.
It didn’t blow up.
Nope. Sold it in 1980 to buy a new ’81 Pontiac Grand Prix.