When I was a kid and cars like this were everywhere, the first question directed towards the owner was “how fast is it?” Today, that question has been replaced with “how much is it worth?”
Meh. 
By modern standards, 1960s and ’70s American musclecars are not economical and they don’t handle, stop, or generally drive very well in their factory default settings. But point the car in a straight line, mash the pedal and they are just so damn much fun. Big, dumb, stupid fun. Looking for a pleasant, refined driving experience? Get a Toyota.
I also don’t get off at glaring at the numbers scribed on the dash or any date codes scribbled on radiator hoses. I understand those that do but its not my thing. So don’t ask me about VINs, fender tags, and date coded this or that; I really don’t care. I know what the car is, how many were built, and yes, I know what they sell for at the auctions. 
Unfortunately, it seems most of the excitement around these cars today are centered around 2 worlds; the chalkmark, date-coded restoration crowd, although many in that crowd seem to be aging out of the hobby, and the TV auction crowd, ala Graveyard Cars, Counting Cars, Gas Monkey Garage, etc. Although entertaining, and I enjoy watching them, but they seem to place more of an emphasis on what they can get out of a car than what they put into it. At least they keep the next generation interested in these cars.
Anyway, I seem to be part of a dying breed. I actually drive these cars like normal cars. I just like driving my cars. When it comes to old cars, some guys like the build. While I have built my share of cars, these days, when I work on cars, its a means to an end to make a repair or an improvement in order to make them drive better, although I still do enjoy building engines. Some guys like the rush of the flip, to buy low and sell high. Ive done that too, but its another means to get a better driving car.
So, shall we go for a ride?
Walk up to the car; it has a presence. Nothing built in the last 40 years has the feel of a real, Vietnam-era American musclecar. You can faintly smell the gas and oil. Its ok, that’s what its supposed to smell like, and it probably leaked oil from the day it rolled off the St. Louis assembly line. There are paint blemishes everywhere, evidence of it hitting a deer a couple of generations ago, a rust bubble here and there. This is no show car. There is no button to click to unlock the doors, put the key in the door and unlock it yourself, you lazy American. Grab the chrome steel door handle and give it a pull, it requires more effort than a RAV4. The door closes with a heavy ka-thunk.
Plant your butt in the flat, all-vinyl seat. Yes, its orange and black. Lateral and lumbar support is almost non-existent, but that’s not a big deal because if you’re driving fast, its only going to be in a straight line anyway. There is no computer screen, no automatic door locks and no chimes to greet you. If the key is in the ignition while the door is still open, the only sound you hear is an annoying buzzer.
You sit low in a 1971 Plymouth Road Runner, but not as low as in a modern sedan, and the visibility is fantastic. The padded, metal-framed dash contains nothing but the gauges you need in a serious driver’s car; a speedometer that goes to an optimistic 150 mph (no kilometers, this is pre-Jimmy Carter America, dammit), a tach, and temp, gas, voltage and oil pressure gauges. You look over the large, thin-rimmed 3 spoke steering wheel with the cartoon Road Runner character in the center and down to the end of the long hood with the large hood bulge in the center, with that famous vacuum-operated air grabbing door with AIR GRABBER lettering on the top and the WW2 fighter decals on the sides. This car was built for one thing and one thing only; racing on the street, and therefore, there is no radio. And yes, it has that legendary purple horn that goes “beep beep.”
The key-an actual steel key, with the familiar to those of us that remember the ’70s Chrysler Pentastar emblazoned on the head, and it fits comfortably in your pocket, only costs a buck to duplicate at any Ace hardware store, and slides easily into the ignition. Twist it until you hear the sweet, sweet sound of the Hamtramck Hummingbird gear reduction starter. It is about to start something wonderfully violent.
The driver involvement starts before you even start the car; pump the gas 5 or 6 times. A quick whiff of gas through those three two barrel carburetors and then 8 big pistons inside their cylinders in the cast iron engine block compressing 440 cubic inches of fuel and air inside the big block V8 roar to life and it settles into a rumpity idle.
Give it a quick rev to warm it up and the garage shakes.
The engine is talking to you, and there is no on-board nanny computer to censor what it says. And it says, Come on man, lets cruise.
There are three pedals hanging below the dash and down to your right, perfectly positioned is the legendary Hurst Pistol Grip shifter. The clutch is lighter and easier to operate than most expect but it still takes some effort. Wrap your paw around the shifter handle; it fits your hand perfectly and maneuvers through the gears with a simple click.
Engage the clutch, it takes a little more effort than a modern car with a stickshift, as few of them as there are. Put the shifter in first; you can actually feel shift gates. We are going for a ride.
Slightly let the clutch out and the car rolls pretty easily; the torque in these cars is legendary so there’s no need to goose the pedal. The engine is already idling at 850 rpm, simply bring the engine up to maybe 1ooo rpm, let the clutch out and the games begin.
Lay into the pedal on the right and the engine roars to a deafening level, the car shakes violently, the front end points to the sky while the car’s rear end is desperately trying to change positions with the front.
You, the driver, are the car’s only stability control. Better stay aggressive on that steering wheel or you’re going to end up putting the car in the ditch, and you only have one hand to do it with because the other has to stay on the shifter.
But wait, you’re still only on the center carburetor. This car has three. Under normal acceleration, 440 Six Packs only run off of the center two barrel carburetor; only under hard acceleration do the two outboard carburetors kick in with their progressive linkage. That’s what’s about to happen here.
As the nose of the car is still pointed up and you are still trying to keep control of the torque that is liquefying my rear tires, you feel a sudden kick and the engine noise kicks it up a notch as the outboard carbs are opening up. The car feels like the Millenium Falcon going into warp speed, and you are quickly running out of rpm and gear; its time to shift into second.
You need to kick the clutch pedal quickly or you lose time and rip that shifter into second as quick as you can all while keeping your hand on the wheel with all of yoru strength. You get a slight break as the clutch briefly separates the power from getting to the rear tires but when it comes back after the 1-2 shift, like I said, stay on that wheel or my car will end up in the ditch and that will not make me or my insurance rep happy.
The nose settles down for a split second and you get a quick view of the road. Stay on the throttle, feel those outboard carbs kick in again and by the end of the second gear, we are well over 100 mph and the quarter mile has come and gone. The shift into third is less dramatic as the car is still pulling hard and by the time you run out of gear at the end of 4th, you are travelling maybe 130 mph.
I’ve had wheel time in some of the best cars in the world. A Ford GT, BMW Z8, Porsche 911S, BMW M5, Hellcat Challenger, and more configurations of Corvettes and Mustangs than I can think of. They’re fun.
But this car is brutal, and I like a little violence in my cars.
Welcome to my 1971 Plymouth Road Runner. I like that they named the car after a cartoon character, since driving the car always makes me smile. I always have to play the Road Runner theme song when I’m driving it at least once.
The same basic driving experience I described above can come in the form of any classic musclecar; Chevelles, GTOs, 442s, Gran Sports, Torinos, Cyclones, etc.; in the big picture, there’s not a whole lot of difference in the way they drive. So, why a ’71 Road Runner?
Among Mopar fans, its a polarizing body style, although there are more that love it than don’t. Even almost 50 years later, while the ’68-70 Mopar B-Body musclecars are universally loved and adored to Mopar and non-Mopar fans alike, there are still some that just plain hate the 1971 restyle. I don’t get it, I think they are gorgeous cars. Not a bad line on them. Why the E-Body Barracudas and Challengers are so revered but the 1971 B-Bodys are so divisive is beyond me, given that they were both designed by John Herlitz and look vaguely similar, but Mopar fans are, well, different. I guess that’s why I tend to hang around with more Chevy and Ford guys.
Anyway, there are probably 20 or so cars that I love and hope to own someday when I win the lottery despite the fact that I have never bought a ticket, but my all-time top-of-the-list 2 favorite Cars I Must Own have always been the 1969 Dodge Charger and the 1971 Plymouth Road Runner. In my first COAL back in November, I was able to rationalize why Chargers were always my favorite car-it started with the Duke boys, but in my opinion, the ‘ 71 RR is simply the coolest, meanest-looking musclecar of all time. The Charger is a great looking car but the Road Runner just looks mean and like it belongs on a track somewhere. And that’s what a musclecar should look like.
Then there was my racing hero, King Richard. Say no more.
And while the ’68-70 Chargers are the media rock stars of the Mopar musclecar era, the gen 2 RRs have had their screen time as well; Daisy Duke, my forever fantasy girlfriend, drove a yellow ’71 in the first 2 seasons of the Dukes until her cousins destroyed it (although, depending on the episode, she could be seen driving a ’71, a ’72 or a ’73)
Even as recently as last year, a black ’72 was the star of F&F 8.
My brother had a yellow ’73 Road Runner in the early 1980s, a rare factory 440 car that was similar to DD’s car except it had a white interior and vinyl top and it had power windows. It was also one of the fastest cars in town.
When I got into car magazines and going to car shows, I would see articles on Road Runners and GTXs with Hi-Impact colors, Air Grabber hoods, Pistol Grip 4 speed shifters and big engines with lots of carburetors, all wrapped in that gorgeously evil sheetmetal, it became a very close second to a ’69 Charger on the list of Cars I Must Own.
And so it was in the spring of 1991, when I was a senior in high school and working my gas jockey job. I worked on the weekends and when I showed up for my shift one Saturday, there was a rough black ’71 GTX parked at the shop. The transmission and half of the engine were gone and so was most of the interior but the body was nice and it was a factory black car with an Air Grabber hood and an automatic. I don’t remember the details but the owner had just moved to New York from North Carolina and brought the car with him. He dropped it off at the shop to get it running again but then decided he couldn’t afford to get all the parts and decided to sell it. Despite the fact that I was about to ship off to boot camp in a couple of months and there was no room to park it at my parent’s house, I made him an offer and bought the car for $500.
That didn’t go well with the parents and it didn’t last a month before I realized I was in over my head both mechanically and financially and I sold it just before I shipped out.
The next year, I found a really clean, low mileage triple green 318 ’71 Satellite coupe and made it my DD for the next few years. That’s a car that deserves its own COAL so I’ll save the details on that one for later.
So, for the next 23 years, I lived my life. Marriage, kids, career, house; all that grown-up stuff. A frequent topic of conversation between me and my car guy pal John (who happens to own a ’70 Road Runner,) are about our favorite cars and how would we build them. My answer is always the same-a green ’69 440 Charger R/T and a white ’71 440 Six Pack/ 4 speed Road Runner.
For the record, I know Plymouth officially called them “440 Six Barrels” and Dodge called them “Six Packs” but they’re all “Six Packs,” OK?
I had gotten to know my pal Bruce through Moparts.com and the local VA/NC Mopar scene. And I got to know Bruce because, why?-besides being a super cool nice guy, he owned the Car I Must Own; a white ’71 Road Runner with a 440 Six Pack and a 4 speed. As a bonus, it had an Air Grabber hood and a cool “Halloween” black and orange interior. Kind of jokingly, since I didn’t think I would be able to afford it, but also kind of serious, I told Bruce that if he ever considered selling the car would he give me first right of refusal.
In the fall of 2015, I got an email from Bruce letting me know he was ready to sell.
At the time, I had a pretty nice ’68 Coronet R/T 440/4 speed that I built and loved, as well as my blue ’69 318 Charger. The Charger was not/is not for sale so if I really wanted Bruce’s car, I’d have to sell the Coronet.
I listed the Coronet on FeeBay and it sold in a week, quickly meeting my reserve and it went to New England.
The car was sold new in the Peoria, IL area and had made its way to Iowa, where Bruce first bought the car in 1981 and then sold it not long after. It went through a couple of more owners and street iterations before he bought it back in 1988 after he had relocated to North Carolina.
Note the low-key, street-racing look; no stripes, hood scoop, engine call outs or flashy wheels, just business. From what I understand, it went through several engines but I know where the original block may possibly be.
Bruce did most of the restoration work, using lots of NOS parts, and pretty much built it the way I would have, right down to the color. He added frame connectors, a quick ratio power steering box, a bigger front sway bar and disc brakes from an ’80s M-Body so besides being a straight-line monster, it actually handles pretty well.
By the time it was done, the car was featured at the Wellborn museum.
It was also the cover car on U.S. Car Tool’s catalog.
Richard Petty signed the air cleaner.
And now its in my garage. I really feel honored to be it’s ‘car’taker.
It came from the factory without any stripes and the engine call outs were removed so it was easy to camoflauge on the street. Bruce added the Air Grabber hood in the ’90s and I put the strobe stripe on just after I bought it. The only external Road Runner badging on it from the factory was the bird on the grille and Road Runner lettering on the quarter panels.
Here is what’s responsible for the violence. Fuel injection can never be this sexy. It started out as a 440 and grew from there. Lots of cubic inches+lots of carburetors=lots of smiles. When restoring muscle-era Mopars, it’s always easier to mount the engine and transmission to the K-frame and then lower the body over them as a unit.
The car came home with me in January, 2016 and Bruce picked up a ’68 Barracuda for a new project. My normal routine when picking up an old car is to drive it around town for about 100 miles to test its roadworthiness before I put it into my normal driver service as was the plan with this car but I already knew the car and that Bruce took meticulous care of it so that wasn’t much of a concern. I added the vintage Keystone mags and slapper bars to give it a ’70s street machine vibe as a nod to its street racing history and later I added the strobe stripe since that’s a ’71 Road Runner signature trait.
Im not going to completely turn a blind eye to its rarity and value, so while I do indeed drive it a lot, it is not a true DD, but I guess none of my cars really are since I rotate all 10 of them out daily as their mechanical condition allows. Looking at the odometer the other day, I put about 6000 miles on it in the 3 years I’ve owned it and there is 126K miles on it. Not bad for a collector car, but even better considering I spread my routine driving across 10 cars.
So where have those 6000 miles been spent? I have a 114 mile round trip to work every day, and I’m one of those guys that enjoys my commute. Its my time. Just me and my car. The phone gets turned off and the stereo gets turned up. Its all highway driving and I have a protected parking spot so traffic and parking is not an issue and the Road Runner has been to work maybe a dozen times since Ive had it. I generally have to allow extra time in the morning when I stop for gas for guys to come up and talk about it.
I mentioned before that I’m a regular at the Chryslers at Carlisle show that’s held every July. I drove the Road Runner up in 2017, adding about 900 miles on the odometer without an issue. A couple of thunderstorms; no problem, the wipers work just fine. I watched all of the Hemi and Six Pack owners load their meticulously restored cars into expensive enclosed trailers.
I got remarried and for both of us, it was our second marriage so it was a pretty low key affair but we still had a nice church ceremony with a photographer. I had just retired from the Coast Guard the previous year and she wanted me to wear my dress whites, so white uniform, white wedding dress and white car for pictures. It also turned out that the photographer that we hired was a Mopar guy that owned a ’66 Satellite so he knew how to artfully use the car in our pictures.
There was a bit of a problem though. All of my friends that had retired before me had warned me that I would gain 20 pounds immediately after I retired since we were no longer subject the mandatory weigh-ins and fitness tests twice a year, coupled with being a 40-something male that enjoys a good meal.
And they were right.
But I could still fit in my uniforms. Mostly. So when it came time to take pictures of me, my wife and the Road Runner, the photographer had me move the car several times to get it positioned just right for pictures.
My uniform pants, which were now quite a bit tighter than they used to be, couldn’t handle the additional strain of getting in and out of the relatively low-slung Road Runner and after the third time of getting in and moving the car, I heard (and felt) it. I blew out the seat of my pants.
And we were taking the pictures before the ceremony.
We finished up the car pictures and headed back to the chapel for the ceremony but I would have to take care of my split pants first. One of her bridesmaids was an elementary school teacher that had a healthy supply of school supplies in her car and we patched my pants back together with several strips of Velcro.
Don’t laugh, it held together for the rest of the ceremony and the actual Velcro strips that held my pants together for the ceremony permanently lives on the rearview mirror of the Road Runner, along with my wife’s garter, a time honored hot rodder tradition.
This year, the Hot Rod Power Tour is coming through my state, so if my schedule allows, the Road Runner and I will be cruising down to Charlotte to kick it off and maybe hitting a few legs of the tour. I did it in 2006 with my Coronet and the Power Tour is something every car guy must do.
So I hung up my dress whites for good after the wedding but the Road Runner has a permanent spot in my garage as a Car I Must Own.
Ah yes, the distinctive, serotonin producing warble of the Mopar “Highland Park Hummingbird” gear reduction starter!
This mechanical melody will eternally be imprinted in the synapses of my automotive mind.
The jingle-jangle of the gas pedal and carb linkage as the driver pumps the pedal a couple of time…..then….
“NAANG-NANG-NANG-NANGGGGGG-ROARRR!”
All other cars sounded dull and “blahhhhhhhhh” when they started up, compared to the various 1960’s thru 1980’s Mopars that squatted in my and my family’s driveways.
LOL, you got that sound down pretty good!
Thanks, ravenuer!
My 1980’s Honda starters sounded kinda-sorta similar; but more refined and muted than the Mopars.
My infant brother, still learning to talk, made the “Highland Park Hummingbird” sound over and over and over again as he waddled down the family hallway.
By doing so he amused my Father and I greatly; less so for our long suffering Mother.
Awesome writeup, should be nominated here at year’s end. Glad you could laugh at yourself at the end – that sounds pretty embarrassing!
Thanks Scott. Nah, I wasn’t embarrassed, I was happy I could still (kind of) fit in my uniform. Lifes too short to take it seriously!
I’m not a Mopar guy, but I like your car. Great story!
Thanks!
Thank you for the awesome ride through the gears all the way up to 130 MPH!
I will be visiting Carlisle this year, if I know what car you will have there (this one?) I will look for you. It would be an honour to meet you.
I go every year Lee. I can usually be found at the Auto Appraisal Group tent. Stop by!
Thanks Danny. I love those little Pentastar emblems on the bottom right fenders. I’m going to look for one when I am at the show. Looking forward to seeing you!
I loved your descriptive drive through the gears. 130 is cool! The one thing you left out though – the slight judder of the steering wheel when you shut the door and the slight metallic clank of the shift collar as you start to turn the key.
I am terribly bipolar on these. I really do like the looks (71-2 it’s the Plymouth, and 73-4 the Charger is my choice) but wish these looks were mated to the more solid feeling body and less plasticky interiors of the 68-70. Oh well.
All of my experience in this generation was in this car’s complete opposite – a strippo red 74 Charger powered through a slant six and a 3 on the tree. I would imagine that the fabulous powertrain in yours changes the car’s personality completely. The Charger’s clutch pedal was the deadest thing I ever experienced with almost no “feel”, a trait that made stalling a common occurrence until you got on really good terms with the thing.
Ditto the above. Brought to mind Cosby’s quote about his Shelby, “I had not taken my foot off the brake pedal and it was *killing people*.” (c:
Love the car!
Hopefully that Charger got the 440/4 speed transplant it deserved! And youre right about the steering column
This is a great story, Lt. Dan & you have a great car.
Thank you Joe!
Back in high school a good buddy of mine drove a 340 Cuda. We used to tease him that Chrysler mounted the starter to the block with wing nuts! Second only to needing a glovebox full of ballast resistors.
Nice car LT Dan, I’m glad that you give it frequent work outs.
Thanks! I forgot to mention that I do carry a spare ballast resistor in the glove box and I already had a Mopar orange ignition box go bad on me out of nowhere on the way to work one morning. Thankfully I had a spare in the trunk
Awesome story, man! I felt like this accurately encapsulates my attitudes towards driving and owning the cars that I’ve owned. I totally agree, cars are meant to be enjoyed and driven, and there’s far too many people out there that view them more as an investment, rather than something to be enjoyed.
Thanks Ryan. I agree, anyone looking at cars solely as an investment is doing it wrong, lol
I remember badly wanting a plastic model kit (Revell etc.) of this car, Petty’s then-current ride, and went to my local hobby shop asking for a “Sebring Satellite”. Owner of the store said he had Saturn 5’s and LEM’s but NO SATELLITES.
Not a Sebring one, but…
Pure gearhead porn! Excellent story as always!
I couldn’t agree more on the pure visceral experience of these older cars. Even the modern muscle cars are super refined by comparison and while that makes for a pretty solid balance it’s very different.
Im a fan of this era of B bodies too. Grandparents had a ‘71 Coronet sedan and my parents had a ‘72 Coronet wagon…good memories from those and the DNA link is pretty apparent. And love for these Plymouths endures today within FCA…. I remember reading on Allpar that the ‘15-up Challenger/Charger bandit grilles took inspiration from the ‘biting its bottom lip’ look these have. Once you notice it, you can’t unsee it….then again, that’s a good thing.
Good start to my Friday!
thanks man!
Great writing from you as usual!
I love this body style – absolutely it’s own deal, nothing to do with GM or Ford. But why did they ruin it with the facelift where the front fenders do not have any relationship with the rears?
thanks Huey!
Brutal is a good description of the way these felt. In 1975, in the Navy, I bought a 1968 GTX from a guy who was getting discharged, and didn’t want to haul his well worn car back to Delaware. A whopping $75 and it was mine. It was a real ‘snowbird’, rusty and beat up, the driver’s door held shut with a screen door hook and eye. Time slips I found under the back seat showed high 12s from a Delaware drag strip. $25 for a decent set of wheels and tires, and a donated 780 cfm dual feed Holley, and it was known as ‘the fastest $100 car’ on the base. The 780 was too much carb for that tired 440, but there’s no substitute for cubic inches. I think we had to jet it down 4 sizes to get it to run reasonably well. All I had to do in a race was get in front off the line, and they couldn’t see from all the smoke. We were running passes in front of the hangars one night, dialing in the carb, and, after one run, I pulled into the parking lot, and an El Camino pulled in right behind me. A Lieutenant Commander got out, came up to me, and asked “what the hell are you doing sailor!”. As a lowly Petty Officer 3rd, I tried to explain that ‘uh, we’re rejetting the carb sir’, (realizing that was one dumb explanation for doing high speed passes down the street). Fortunately, we worked nights, so there wasn’t any other traffic. After verbally chewing us out for doing such a ‘dumb ass stunt’, he walked away, and as he got in his El Camino, his parting words were “You’re still about 2 sizes too big on the jets”. I still remember the pure rush of punching the gas and feeling it launch.
Fast forward to 1995, and I picked up a much nicer 1969 440 Six Pak GTX, as a friend called it “An E ticket ride!” Just as brutal as I remembered it. At the time, I had a new 1995 Mitsubishi 3000GT VR4. Objectively, the VR4 was slightly faster than the GTX, 0-60 and quarter mile, but the GTX felt like it was light years faster. The roar of the carbs, the torque pushing you back into the seat, beat the hell out of the smooth power delivery of he VR4.
I’ve always preferred the 68 – 69 cars body styles, but yours is a great looking example of the later body. Great write up.
That’s a great story! And stories like that are why these cars are so much fun. I wonder if the GTX is still around
The ’68 I had in the Navy, no, I sold it to a friend who pulled the engine for a nicer car he had. The ’69 got sold in 1996, and, as far as I know, it’s still around.
Wonderful story and descriptions.
I happen to agree with you wholeheartedly about the styling of the ’71 Satellite: it’s one of the very best things to ever come out of Detroit and is superior to the other E Bodies. And I’m sorry, but all the ’68-’70 B Bodies can’t hold a candle to it. They’re from a whole other era design-wise.
My take on its styling and design influences is here: https://www.curbsideclassic.com/curbside-classics-american/curbside-classic-1971-plymouth-satellite-sebring-plus-with-a-tip-of-the-hat-to-virgil-exner-and-marcello-gandini/
Agreed. I’m genuinely surprised the ’71 was controversial. Always thought it was one of the most beautiful American cars of the era.
+1. Who couldn’t like that?
thanks Paul! That’s one of my favorite articles of yours
Great story, your best yet. No matter how you feel about the ’71 Roadrunner you can really feel the car-human bond here. Two other points:
1. had completely forgotten the Roadrunner Show theme, that really brought a smile to my face
2. towing a boat with a Roadrunner as in the opening picture seems so ridiculous today but at the time lot of boats were towed with cars. My high school buddy and I towed his boat of similar size with a ’65 Chevy Biscayne with an automatic but in fairness there was a lot of getting out and pushing the car up the ramp at the end of the day.
thank you sco!
LT DAN has a most enjoyable, highly descriptive quality to all his articles here.
Rather Reminiscent of the Garrison Keillor radio broadcasts.
In my “mind’s eye” I can vividly picture what his words describe.
Please don’t be a stranger here, LT!
thank you Mark. I have several more articles to write, I’ll be here for awhile
Pictures of the Wedding? Please?
Nice writing and story telling,
She gave me permission to post this one, lol
Wow, very nice. Parallels my experience starting up my 71 Chevelle Super Sport in the garage. With the big block, the roar and growl are sounds I’ll never forget. I sure do miss it.
When I was in my early teens the 71-72s were fairly obtainable muscle cars, I’d find ad after ad featuring Roadrunners(albeit probably not 440+6 or Hemis) for the same price as a late model Corolla. By the time I was out of high school however they became auction footballs, with even regular 383s fetching $25,000+ in modest condition. That buy low sell high investor crap has never been something I cared for in this hobby, and firmly feel it’s at the detriment to younger generations exposure to these cars to shelter them away, preserving the chalkmarks.
I too love the 71-72s, and never understood their exclusion from the high pedestal the 68-70s and E bodies sit atop. Even my Dad, whose first car was a 71 Charger I might ad, found their designs inferior, and only in recent years seems to appreciate them now that the market suddenly values them. Gee Dad, thanks for all the sarcastic “”oh god, don’t tell me you like THOSE” at every cruise night a rare 71 RR/GTX would show up! I like E bodies as much as the next guy, but deep down I see plainly how derivitave they are (90% of the Cuda = 68 Camaro, 90% of the Challenger = 69 Cougar), the B bodies are so much more original, even if they follow traits from GM’s 68 A-body’s, the designs themselves are completely original and way more forward looking.
Other Hand – Do you know how thoroughly these things corrode? Really, repairing/replacing the firewall/dashboard! Repair/replace “Dutchmans Panel” + all rear sheet metal not for the backyard enthusiast. Can be made to much closer tolerances, though. You Play = You Pay
Oh yes, I commonly find online listings with totally bare non-rolling hulks in fields with all the aeformentioned sheetmetal in critically poor condition with $10,000 written on the broken windshields. Good luck to the buyers paying for the privilege of owning that VIN tag!
What a fantastic write up. I love all the personal history and also the thorough description of what the car is actually like to drive.
I’m so happy that you are taking great care of this car and also driving it. Cars last longer the more they are driven, plus their owners tend to notice and fix the things that do go awry if they are actually driven. I don’t see the point of a trailer queen car or one of these 100 point restored with cotton swabs cars.
This is the kind of car that you don’t really own, you take care of it for the next owner.
Thanks Savage! I agree, cars are self-lubricating machines and you don’t do them any favors by letting them sit. Sure, there are some reference cars that belong in museums and/or be used for archives but since the Road Runner has over 120K on it and the original engine is long gone, that gives me ‘artistic license’ to go a little nutty with it
I really enjoy your writing and your take on both cars and life.
Thank you Mads!
Great write-up Dan on one of the greatest. I never was a MOPAR fan growing up having gone from Chevy to Ford as I moved into my driving years.
But these Road Runners were simply gorgeous. I always liked the loop bumper Chrysler products, and like you, the ’69 Charger and the ’71 Road Runners were my absolute favorites. It’s hard to choose a favorite between these two, but I think I like these a little better actually. Someone above said it, and I feel like that too: The Dodge was better from ’68 to ’70, while for ’71 & ’72, I gotta go with the Plymouth. I do have a soft spot for the broughamy looking ’73 Charger SE, however. I think that car is the same body as these; please correct me if I’m wrong about that and perhaps the fuzzy memory details below….
Brutal? Yeah, I have to say that has to be true based on an experience I had in my teenage years, but with a 383 powered ’70 Charger R/T. One of our friends had this beat up rusty old Charger that she drove like an old lady. The year was 1977 or 78, and she said her father gave her the car. Being curious boys we wanted to see what was under the hood, and there atop the engine was 3 two-barrel carbs. (Cue the choir music and light shining down from heaven above.) I asked her if I could drive it. She said for me to be careful, as it was a bit of a handful. All of us looked at each other and smiled. I had never driven anything like that in the 1 or 2 years I’d been driving up to that point. What a rush!
Now I may have some of the details wrong, as these cars may or may not have come this way from the factory. But she said her dad used to race it, so he may’ve built it up that way. Whatever, it was an experience I’ll never forget. Oh, and she never let me drive it again. I wonder why? ;o)
You have a great story telling style here Dan. I am really enjoying your COAL series.
Thanks Rick! I agree, during the musclecar years, I mostly like the Plymouths except for the 68-70 B-Bodys and I like Challengers better than Barracudas but I wouldn’t kick any of them out of the garage.
’70 Chargers didn’t come from the factory with a 383 Six Pack but they did come with a 440 Six Pack, or someone could have retrofitted a Six Pack on a 383.
We were teenagers an may’ve mis-identified the engine, but that car was ‘brutally’ fast. I punched it at like 25 MPH, and in what seemed like about 3 seconds (I’m sure it was more, but not much more) we were up to triple digits. Your description of the Millennium Falcon entering hyperspace is not that far far away…
Perhaps it was the 440. Up to then, the only other MOPAR I had ever driven was the driver’s ed car, a Dodge Dart with the venerable slant 6. Your description of the starter is perfect!
While I loved driving that Dart, that R/T was a lot more fun… well, in a straight line, anyway. 😀
Another possibility is that the car may have been retrofitted with the large, oval air cleaner from a Six-Pack car, but with a single 4v carburetor tray. This was fitted when the ‘Air Grabber’ (Plymouth) or ‘Ramcharger’ (Dodge) scoop was ordered with a non-Six Pack engine.
The tray was different, but the lids were identical with only a decal to indicate whether it was a 6v or 4v underneath.
Wow, yet another instance of us having a similar 1980s Brooklyn/Long Island background.
These Plymouths have always been on my bucket list too, ever since then… Though these days, I’ll take a nice Satellite Sebring Plus (in yellow, please), rather than an all-out Road Runner that my teenage self had once salivated over.
I saw this vintage 1971 RR ad with Will E. Coyote and Road Runner.
Amazing. Never saw that one before. Here’s an earlier one that was for the whole Plymouth line:
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=Nhf54rs4ze8
As usual awesome read Lt Dan! The description of bringing the car up to 130 put me in the seat of your RR – just great! I have always been more of a Chevy and Ford guy than a Mopar guy, but these 71-72 Plymouth B-bodies are just awesome. They are one of my all time favourite muscle cars from this era. I never understood why they were looked down upon compared to the other Mopar muscle. Since they came out in 1971, at least they got the unneutered full on muscle car engines, unlike the Torino’s in 72 which had the looks (IMO) but not the serious muscle car engines.
Muscle cars are loud, brash, over the top. So I kind of think the styling should be along the same lines. Even though the early 70s was the winding down of the muscle car, I think they had the best looking ones. I think your RR is far cooler looking than the 1968-70 models. Yes, the earlier cars were a nice cleanly styled car, but they might be just too conventional for me. I remember reading some “Supercar” tests from the early 70’s when the testers were lamenting the decreased performance, and the poorer running engines. But most concluded the styling of these cars were even more “hairier” than the early cars.
I am also completely on board with you about driving the cars. I try to drive mine as much as possible, and bring the family too (my kids were infants when they had their first rides). To me an old car is not so much about preserving the history of the car, it’s about preserving my memories of the great experience within.
Thanks Vince! I definitely lean Mopar but I love all cars. A real car guy doesn’t care what the little badge on the grille is; a great car is a great car.
I agree about making memories with old cars. I’ve involved my kids with the old cars since they were little and today they love them and are already fighting about who gets which one someday.
“A real car guy doesn’t care what the little badge on the grille is; a great car is a great car.”
Well said! I have always liked cars from all brands, and the dyed in the wool brand guys really irk me at times. I have a Ford and Chevy and I almost have to keep it a secret that I own the “other brand” depending on what crowd you are talking with. That’s why this place is great, so much diversity among CC readers.
I also forgot to mention in my post above, when my wife and I got married we used my Torino as our wedding car too. We also had my dad’s old Malibu (owned by my brother at the time). My brother did the same when he got married too. Several of the wedding shots included the cars – of course! Looking forward to more COALs!
Great write-up, Dan! I enjoyed your realistic take on muscle car ownership and I’m happy you got to own your dream muscle car. She’s a beauty.
Thanks William!
Not feeling the best today, so I can’t wax lyrical enough to do this justice.
For me, this is a more beautiful car than the fabled ’68-70 Chargers. And Mopar had so many cool colours to choose from. But that black and orange interior is the icing on the cake – who else would have the guts to offer that?
A great story. I love your description of the driving experience IF you let me in your car!
Right up there with the year’s best.
Thanks Pete! Hope you feel better
I absolutely love LOVE LOVE these cars SO MUCH, so you have some excellent taste, sir. I’ve admired these since the 80s, when my young Gen-Xer self bought a Monogram model of a 1:24 scale 1971 Plymouth Satellite. It was molded in black and had the white strobe stripe like a ‘Runner, and it was just SO COOL! As I grew up I learned that there were other versions, like the GTX and such. But the Road Runner is my favorite, for all the reasons you detailed. I’ve sadly never had the privilege to own one–they were already scarce by the time I got my license in 1989, and as the years went on they only got more scarce–and more expensive. Now, a big lotto win is my only hope to ever own one. They are all priced out of reach for a blue-collar slob like me. Even the base Satellites are asking for five-figures in nice enough shape. I don’t have the space or resources for a restoration, so I’d need a good one.
The attached image is very similar to my Monogram model. Love this thing!
Bill, you and I are the same age and I had that same model when I was a kid, it was one of my favorites. I’ve seen some reasonably priced, driver-quality ’71-72 318 Satellites pop up for sale from time to time so don’t give up!
Funny you would say that–19 years ago when I still resided in Colorado, I attended the Tr-State swap meet held every February at the Stock Show complex in Denver. One of the vendors was selling a superbly-clean 1971 Satellite Sebring. It had a 318 2bbl, Torqueflite, bench seat interior, factory A/C and AM radio. It had a canopy-style vinyl top and was finished head to toe, nose to tail, inside and out in the most MUNICIPAL shade of beige I’ve ever seen. He was asking $8500 for it. I winced. I was already the caretaker of a 1974 Monte Carlo and a daily driver 1997 Monte Carlo, which as you know, was nothing more than a 2-door Lumina. I didn’t have the financial means to take on one more car, so I had to let it pass. It still bugs me I missed out on that car–it had so much potential for greatness.
The attached image example lacks the canopy top, but is pretty damn close to what was there that day way back in 2000. Also, this example is a 1972.
Good rear perspective shot of what many consider the best looking taillights of this generation B-body. Next best would be the ’73-’74 cars, with the ‘dumbell’ 1972 taillights generally considered the worst.
But the 1972 Road Runner still had a pretty good looking front end with the bird head moved up to the header trim panel between the bumper and hood.
Thank you all so much for the compliments. This one was fun to write once I actually found the time to sit down and write it.
I have one more current COAL (actually a TOAL) to write and it will more autobiographical than it will be about the truck so standby! After that, I have a whole bunch of cars past that I would like to write up so, again, thanks for the kind words and I will keep working on them!
Thank you, LT Dan for a wonderful write up. I am very much looking forward to reading your experience with the 318 Sattelite.
I think a large part as to why this B-body shape is so polarizing has a lot to do with how many myriad of options one could have completely change the outward demeanor they can possess. I personally feel like the bold colors, paired with the body colored bumper option and some sort of contrast in either the form of the full vinyl roof and or graphics, work best:
A minor nitpick on that GTX: those are incorrect Magnum 500 wheels. The earlier versions were completely chromed (spokes and rim).
Later versions (which would have been OEM on a 1971) had matte-finish spokes and a black rim which was covered by a matte aluminum trim ring. It was the same with the rallye-style wheels which first appeared in 1970.
Compare that to a muted color that keeps the chrome bits. It’s nowhere near as aggressive. Even just the vinyl top (not the halo one) makes a difference in muting that thick C-pillar on the Plymouth:
I loved the ’71 Sat/Roadrunner when it appeared. The Charger, not so much. When it came time to buy my first car in ’74, I had the cash saved to buy whatever I wanted, and I wanted one of the last Cudas around, a black one, with a 360 and Torqueflite. Since I wasn’t 18 yet, mom had to actually buy it, and she waited too long and it was gone. I had the dealer try to find another one in a decent color, but they said they couldn’t unless I would take a 318 car. Nope. So, it came down to a Roadrunner or a Trans Am. The T/A was fine, looks wise, but the seats were horribly uncomfortable (I solved the problem in my later ’79 T/A by installing aftermarket seats) so it was the ‘Runner. Your color choices ran 180 degrees from mine. Green and white were “No way” colors, along with any of the “weak” colors that were available. Originally, I was going to buy a ’74 Red with white stripes, but it was sold before I got a chance to go over and look at it..I finally decided to order a car exactly as I wanted it. Mom would never go for a 440 car, so I decided to get the 360. It was going to be red with white stripes, but when I saw one in the brochure that was “Silver Frost Metallic” with red stripes, and then saw one in person (A 318 car), that was what I ordered. There was a huge foulup in the order and a green Sebring arrived with a 400, and I rejected it. The order was relisted and just before Thanksgiving of ’74, my car arrived as both a ’74 and a ’75. My car was one of the last, or the last ’74 built, period. It had a lot of teething issues, and the weird and weak 6 cyl rear end would soon break after a pair of slicks was put on to successfully get the car into the 13’s about a year and a half aster I bought it. The car, once all the weird issues were sorted out, it was trouble free until the rear ate itself. That was solved by putting in a 3.55 8+3/4 posi rear end from an Charger. It really had no issues at all the last two years I had it. It ran a few 13.30’s and I regretted trading it on a POS ’77 Power Wagon. Somehow, it survived all these years and now has a stroked 440 in it at 497 CI, and looks better than new. I don’t have a pic of it, but this car is a twin to mine, except mine had “360” on the hood.
“Unfortunately, it seems most of the excitement around these cars today are centered around 2 worlds; the chalkmark, date-coded restoration crowd, although many in that crowd seem to be aging out of the hobby, and the TV auction crowd, ala Graveyard Cars, Counting Cars, Gas Monkey Garage, etc”
I call them the Monetize the Hobby crowd. I break it down to two main groups. First group is composed of those who love the cars as they are and for what they are. Value never figures into it for them such as always asking the questions “what is my car worth.” That is me as I don’t care outside insurance replacement value.
The second group are the ones who see what is going on in the market and now auctions and want to figure out a way to monetize the hobby and cash in. For them the love of the hobby is second, if at all, while the profit to be made by throwing something up for auction is primary.
I would say that the shift from hobbyists to monterizing started to take hold around the mid-90s, like 1995-96.
I can’t remember what specific show it was, but this past fall there was a Black 383 ’70 Gran Coupe that was to get “refreshed”. It still had the crazy rare argent bits on it (rear valance, trim pieces, etc.). They painted over them, and I about died… Like do you know how stupid, let alone financially stupid if you sold those parts as is before the repaint, what you did was? I stopped watching. Nope.
It makes me sleep well knowing their investments will end up worthless(to them) when the bubble pops and those cars end up back in the hands of the hobbiests who actually care about them for a song.
Do you have any historical precedent on your prediction? I’m not exactly seeing Duesenbergs and other 30s classics come back in the hands of hobbyists “for a song”. Or any old collector cars. Yes, some of the lesser old prewar cars have come down a bit, but they’re so old that the generation that was interested in them has died off.
Those hobbiests who actually care about them might be mighty old by the time a RR goes for “a song” again. Maybe you have exceptionally good genes? 🙂
Baseball cards. Are you comparing a B body to a Deusenberg?
I don’t know anyhting about baseball cards; we’re not Curbside Baseball Cards. And they’re useless. Cabbage Patch Dolls? I could never see the point, unlike cars, which you can enjoy driving and easily show off to the whole world.
Yes, although not just any B Body; the Road Runner specifically. Why not? It’s all about desirability and scarcity and unique qualities. How many authentic RRs are there? And there’s no debating the desirability and unique qualities.
And stylistically, I’d place the ’71 RR/Satellite coupe right up there with many exotics.
Have you checked what Fiat-Abarths are selling for? 850cc Fiat engines and mechanicals. This one sold for $100k recently.
https://rmsothebys.com/en/auctions/az19/arizona/lots/r0082-1959-fiat-abarth-750-gt-double-bubble-zagato/731385
I’m not denying the fact that the collector market has experienced some ups and downs, and that we may be at or near a peak currently, but your assumption that the genuine classic muscle cars are going to be back in the hands of hobbyists for a song is profoundly unrealistic and classic wishful thinking.
But for your sake I hope I’m wrong.
Baseball Cards – DON’T GIVE AWAY THE SECRET!!!!!
1 in 10 with a Deusenberg literally means there are 10. One in 10 with a Cuda means 10 were made with this color, nevermind the rest of it being one of 100/500/1000… Unlike Deusenberg or that double bubble, one can still find a regular Satellite in reasonable for significantly less cash than a real Roadrunner and accurately clone it into one if so desired, same with every other muscle car. Scarceness and desirability will always play a role of course, but certain bodies like the 68-70 Chargers or fastback 65-70 Mustangs fetch premium coin due to their continual presence in the zeitgeist, the iconic shapes sell them alone and it almost doesn’t matter to their value if they’re GTs or R/Ts or plain 302/318 cars at this point. The muscle car collector market is driven by legend and nostalgia more than historical significance in engineering and design, actual scarcity elevates already iconic cars like a Hemi or a Shelby versions of the aeformentioned models. But there are also numerous cars in this market that are just as rare or rarer than the icons that haven’t really drastically risen in value – think non-Mustang Fords, Mercurys or AMCs – these rarely crack 6 figures for the rarest of rare, while most are lucky to touch their inflation adjusted original values(btw, that is my benchmark for a song).
I love the 71 Roadrunner, I 100% agree with you on its design, but many people don’t recognize that significance, it very much has been to the Roadrunner/GTX family what the 71 Mustang to the Mustang family. Only now that the 60s supply is tapped dry these swansong years have begun their ascent, but I’m not sure the largely boomer driven market will ever elevate these the way they did with 68-70s and especially E-bodies. The cars have an intrinsic value that following generations will pay, obviously, but will values continue to ascend through them? Will they maintain? I’m not a fortune teller, but my trusty magic 8-ball says doubtful. There are only so many hobbiests, and the supply of cars (besides muscle) is ample.
I tend to look at the hobby, I really don’t like the word market, in this manner. can the given car transcend generations? Applying that standard to a Duesenbergs or Cords I would say yes they can.
Now applying that to a 71 RR which was during the formative years of the Baby Boomer generation (me), that have really driven the demand of these particular cars, I can’t really say yes. In order to transcend they would need to be as desirable and attractive to Gen X, a second generation, and then be passed on to Millennials, a third generation. I really don’t see the interest getting through and past the third generation if at all. My son, who is Gen Z you can just about forget it from what I see.
A Duesenberg or Cord are cars for the ages. The 71 RR is a generational car. Generational cars will fade over several generations with the more pedestrian version, like a 318 Satellite or 307 Chevelle, fading first. My 67 Park Lane and 73 Polara will mean nothing 20 years from now and 75/25 chance needing to be scrapped despite their condition. It is one thing to say cool car it is another to say I want to buy it, I want to store it, I want to take care of it, and I want to spend my money on it.
I’m not quite that dire, muscle cars definitely transcend generations, it’s just a different kind of attraction. Millennials(me) and gen z following wouldn’t necessarily know the the significance that placed a 71 Hemi ‘Cuda convertible 4-speed with billboards at the top of the totem pole, but the reverence is noted regardless, we know they’re significant even if we weren’t around to understand exactly why. Same as much applies to Cords and Duesenbergs, you think young generations intrinsically are aware of their significance over any other 30s cars either? Even I, a car nut, only have a surface knowledge about them. I just always knew they were worth a lot and look interesting.
For many it’s the an extension of the same phenomena that drives hardcore hobbiests nuts, where every 60s-70s 2-door with a V8 is a assumed a Muscle car. It’s not that the RR and SS fades with the 318 Satellite or 307 Chevelle, it’s that the 318 Satellite or 307 Chevelle fade into them. They look like muscle cars, sound like muscle cars and drive basically like muscle cars(minus the warp speed sensation unless modified), ergo they’re muscle cars. The real deals may consequently lose some value(unless they have those long revered names like Hemi, or Boss or Shelby attached) but they also lift the values of the “posers”, neither will fade away so much as fade together.
We’ll know in 20 years one way or the other as I’ll be 85 and my son 30.