The Ranchero’s jet-age character lines can best be appreciated in a rear three-quarter view like this one, despite the lack of body-side chrome trim to accentuate them.
When it became clear that moving west with (most of) my Volvo product planning/product management colleagues was the only way to ensure my continued employment in that department, the die was cast.
After a whirlwind SoCal house-hunting odyssey (during which we were nearly T-boned when our real estate agent blew through a stop sign in her Mercedes E-Class), we eventually found a suitable home in Riverside County, which, among its other amenities, featured a four-car garage.
Perfect, I thought, now we’ll be able to put all our family fleet under cover for the first time. Readers may remember that my first “garage of a lifetime” (chronicled in my previous post) was a detached, single-car affair, at least until I had it expanded to two-car capacity in the early 1980s. By the time we were set to move west, the fleet consisted of my 2001 Volvo XC70 company car (with which we made our cross-country trip), the ’66 Mustang GT convertible which I’d had shipped back to the States from Sweden), my wife’s ’99 Toyota Tacoma 4×4, and, of course, our ’66 Sunbeam Tiger.
Our SoCal digs with the solar we added a few years after we moved in. From this angle, its four-car garage looks foreshortened.
An aside: at that point, our personal garage history seemed to parallel the general evolution of the American family garage over the past several decades: At first, the garage was typically a detached, single-vehicle building, located as far away from one’s home as possible, to contain odors and protect the family home from any potential fire risk.
Gradually, the garage migrated closer to the house. As the postwar suburbs grew, so did the family garage, mainly to accommodate Detroit’s longer, lower, and wider offerings. It was now also attached to the home, no longer a backyard afterthought. In the more remote suburbs with sketchy mass transit, it often accommodated two vehicles for Mom and Dad. Finally, the attached garage found itself in front of the family home, replacing the attic as the family’s storage space and supplanting the front porch as the neighborhood gathering place (especially if a garage door was open to reveal a classic car being worked on inside).
A typical hangout for suburban car guys (and gals). (Source: Thomas Barwick/Stone/Getty Images)
Back to our story: As we moved in, we suddenly realized that part of our new four-car garage would have to replace not our New Jersey attic, but the full basement we had left behind in the Garden State. As was the case with most SoCal homes constructed in the recent past, our slab-built home lacked a cellar. Suddenly, the vehicle capacity of our California garage was reduced to two. Which vehicles would remain indoors?
Of course, the company-car Volvo and the Tacoma drew the short straws and took up outside residence, leaving the Mustang and Tiger safely inside. Then one day, while perusing an issue of Hemmings I noticed an ad for a ’65 Ford Ranchero. As the seller’s listing also included the words “V8” and “four-speed,” I was immediately interested.
Some artistic license was taken here, making the Ranchero look nearly as wide as it was long. (Source: www.oldcarbrochures.com)
As you’re aware, the ’64-65 Ranchero was based on Ford’s Falcon. Redesigned for the ’64 model year, the new compact was a prime example of stylists “filling out the box,” or pushing new, artfully creased sheet-metal to the very edges of a car’s footprint. And there was no lack of artful, jet-age-inspired creases in the Ranchero’s sheet metal. Its two-door body style and long, clean quarter panels (borrowed from the two-door Falcon station wagon) further accentuated its length, making the Ranchero look longer than its actual 189” dimension.
After a phone call to the seller, a meeting was set for an upcoming Saturday afternoon. The Ranchero’s candy-apple red exterior looked great at first sight, accented as it was by a set of five-spoke American “mags” and tires a bit chunkier than stock. Its black bench-seat interior was likewise immaculate, set off by a non-stock wood-rim steering wheel and column-mounted tach. After confirming that we were seriously interested customers and not just tire kickers, the seller fired up the Ranchero’s small-block V8 and we were off for a brief test drive through the industrial park surrounding his warehouse.
The 289 had been upgraded with a four-barrel carb and other goodies. No power accessories here!
After acclimating myself to the non-power-assisted steering and brakes, its handling proved to be no worse than other Detroit products of a similar vintage. Shifting and braking elicited no drama or unwanted NVH, and the 289 performed as expected (I had the impression that it could potentially beat the Tiger off the line, if its lightly loaded rear axle could maintain anything resembling traction).
Driver’s view. The Cobra-badged wood-rim steering wheel and tach had been added by a previous owner. Wishful thinking, perhaps?
Shortly, a deal was done: Keeping our garage capacity in mind, the Mustang GT would be traded even up, for the Ranchero. As we had one real pickup (the Tacoma) in our fleet, we never soiled the Ranchero’s cargo bed with anything more than the occasional Home Depot run. I also drove to work in it from time to time, as its under-dash A/C made the summertime stop-and-go commute on California’s notorious Riverside Freeway (known to locals as “the 91”) a bit more tolerable.
The Ranchero’s business end didn’t see too many messy loads during our ownership.
Eventually though, the Ranchero’s limitations began to outweigh its initial attractiveness. We decided to part with it, electing to offer it at a SoCal collector-car auction. Although the drive east to the auction’s Palm Springs venue was a bittersweet one, hearing the auctioneer bellow that “the reserve is now off, folks” meant that we’d more than met our asking price and were on our way to replenishing our classic-car bank account for the next purchase.
Later, the Ranchero showed up on the website of a classic-car dealer in Marina Del Rey. We passed on it.
Given my hobby-car purchase history up to that point, you may already guess what replaced the Ranchero. I’ll leave you in temporary suspense for now, though.
Nice story, but you left out some details. If you loved the Mustang so much, why did you trade it? Then, how long did you have the Ranchero? I can’t tell if tin hat it for 10 days or 10 years. And the future of the Ranchero and coming across it years later, should have been part of the story and not just a photo caption. That’s a cool part of the story. Good story, but it has to potential to be more.
Nice looking trucklet ~ I like the two tone paint in the advert .
Wasn’t there some Ford corporate limited slip rear axle you could have bolted in ? .
I’m beginning to hope there’s one for my 2001 Ford Ranger trucklet, I can pretty easily spin the drive wheel whenever the pavement’s damp or wet .
-Nate
Yes the Ranchero would easily beat the Tiger off the line, but mostly because the Tiger had an unusually tall rear end axle ratio. Would easily do 60 mph in first gear.
That was a really nice Ranchero, but I’m really in awe of a house with a four car attached garage. Though I wouldn’t envy your commute into LA. I can understand trading your Mustang, even though it was a very desirable car, sometimes you’re ready for a change. Looking forward to the next installment.
Sharp Ranchero, Stephen. I think you’re exactly right about how that 3/4 rear view is the car’s best angle. I really love the quarter panels and the rear lights (of course). The front end, not so much. Or at least it’s not as special as other parts of the car.
So, I guess the strategy is to have just one collector or hobby car? And the Sunbeam somehow has its own special status. I get that. I’m not so sure I would have parted with the Mustang given its story, but the Ranchero was quite nice.
As long as you mention it, I am kind of interested in what its “limitations” were as it would seem that limitations shouldn’t be that big an issue for a vehicle that’s clearly intended to be fun (given that you had daily drivers).