(first posted 3/3/2011) Curbside Classic takes you back to 1971 for a virtual comparison test of six small cars, based (and partly borrowed) from a C/D test.
There it is, a golden yellow Vega, seductive and infinitely irresistible, hanging from the tree of automotive disappointment. Its serpent maker found plenty of smitten takers (especially among the motor press), because the bitter truth imparted upon biting the bait was apparently in a time-release potion: “The best handling car ever sold in America” (Road &Track). Winner of Motor Trend’s 1971 COTY. C/D readers voted it the best economy car three years in a row. It won this 1971 C/D six small car comparison. And yet it went on to be the maker’s perhaps biggest Deadly Sin along with the Citation. So much promise; such a letdown.
I (mentally) bit too, having spent idle hours in 1971 with a Vega brochure specifying a yellow Kammback GT exactly like this one. But sure enough, the sweetness of that first bite evaporated all too quickly: the apple was rotten at the (engine) core. The Vega was GM’s Watergate/Waterloo, the beginning of its inevitable end. And yet here I am forty years later, totally smitten and thinking how fun it would be to tool around in another one of my seductive youthful loves.
Let’s step into our time machine. It’s 1971, we’re wearing bell-bottoms, and want desperately to love the Vega as much as we love peace. Its coming was hyped by GM for years as nothing less than the reinvention of the small car, GM’s version of the Apollo moon shot. Sound familiar?
Now we haven’t bitten into the apple of knowledge yet; we’re just sniffing around the delicious edges of the Bill Mitchell styled mini-Camaro to try to understand what all the hoopla, awards and press accolades were all about. Or was GM delivering its press cars with a big baggie of Acapulco Gold in the glove box? Oops; the Vega doesn’t have a glove box, as well as a few other components normally taken for granted, thanks to GM’s ever-diligent bean counters.
GM’s corporate styling was still at the top of their game in 1971. But there sure was a lot of borrowing going on here, although to good effect. The basic Vega sedan was a blatant rip-off of the lovely Fiat 124 Coupe (upper photo).
The hatchback coupe’s roofline was heavily cribbed from the Ferrari 365 GT 2+2. The Kammback wagon owed more than a hat-tip to the Reliant Scimitar shooting brake. And of course, the Vega’s egg-crate grille front end was a re-do of GM’s own excellent ’55 Chevy, which in turn was of course cribbed from various Pininfarina Ferraris.
The real question was why Chevy wanted such a low-slung, “sporty” car with terrible space utilization. The charming Kammback was really more of a shooting brake than a proper wagon; hardly in the image of GM’s big wagons, or such practical competitors as the Datsun 510 wagon, which actually had the luxury and practicality of four doors!
GM’s President Ed Cole, a former engineer and father of the Chevy V8 and Corvair, gave the development of the XP-887 “import killer” to a corporate development group. And then he forced the half-baked results on a reluctant John Z. DeLorean, General Manager of Chevrolet. The “not invented here” maxim maximized, especially as regards the engine. Chevy’s Engine Group already had a conventional small four banger on the drawing table. But the corporate skunk works had grander (“cheaper” in GM-speak) things in mind.
GM had dropped a mint on a huge aluminum foundry operation to build the Corvair engine. And the ill-fated Corvair died in 1969. See where this is going? The Vega will have an aluminum block because…”it’s 51 lbs lighter than the pedestrian and dead-reliable Chevy II four block”. Right. Well, an aluminum head on the Chevy block would have offset the (are you ready for it?) cast-iron head on top of the Vega aluminum block. GM was determined to turn small car engine design upside down, literally. Oh well, Pontiac’s cast-iron four (“Iron Duke”), a revised and updated Chevy II 153 four, ended up replacing the ill-starred Vega engine anyway.
Since the dawn of the twentieth century, light but soft aluminum has been used for engine blocks along with durable iron cylinder sleeves. That solution would have cost Chevy exactly $8 per engine. They were planning to build millions of them. And cheapness is the mother of malfunction. So GM and Reynolds Aluminum came up with the idea to incorporate 17% silicon in the alloy, and devised a way to etch the top molecules of aluminum from the cylinder bore surface to expose the hard silicon, and voila! An eight dollars saved is an eight dollars earned!
Actually, this was only one part of the Vega engine problems. Mercedes and Porsche went on to perfect this process, and now it’s ubiquitous. It was the other shortcuts that really made it so, like cheap self-destructing valve guides, an undersized cooling system, a small oil pan, etc. Overheating, or oil consumption from the bad valve guides meant that the less-forgiving cooling system or limited oil capacity conspired with the fragile open-deck block, which then blew up, figuratively and literally. But that won’t be happening on a mass scale until 1973 or so, unless you’re one of the unlucky early adopters of Vega maladies.
The Vega’s engine was unusual in other ways too. It had a long stroke and big displacement (2.3 liters) for a four, and was tuned for low specific output (90 gross, 80 net hp) at a lazy 4400 rpm. The result was a big flat torque curve: 136 lb/ft of torque at 2400 rpm, more than double the Simca’s. GM wanted the Vega to have that lazy V8 feel, the secret to blowing those pesky, buzzy imports off the freeway. The result was more agricultural than V8, or in 1971 terminology, bad vibrations. Balance shafts would have broken GM’s profit targets. As did the lack of them, although that alone would not have solved all the Vega’s problems.
One of the Vega’s earliest problems was its seemingly inexplicable tendency to explode mufflers. In a classic Rube Goldbergian way, severe engine vibration caused a carburetor bolt to loosen, causing the carb cover to jump up and down, causing the accelerator pump to pump, causing raw gas to flow down those less-than stellarly-sealed silicon bores, causing gas to puddle in the exhaust, causing said explosions, causing Vega owners to abandon their ride in mid traffic and duck for cover behind the nearest Pinto whose own explosive tendencies weren’t yet common knowledge.
But the torque was there, and Americans love deep-fried torque with their pork. Who wants to shift when you’ve got a tenderloin sandwich in one hand and a milkshake in the other while cruising I-70? GM had your number(s): the combination of an extremely long 2.53-to-1 axle ratio resulted in 2600 rpm at seventy mph. Relaxed cruising indeed, and a masking of the Vega’s “disturbingly loud when revved” thrashing sounds.
But wait, you enthusiasts hoping for a mini Z28 or BMW 2002 beater, it gets worse. The standard Vega transmission is a three-speed stick, with ratios so wide that combined with that long axle it “feels more like a 6-speed with first, third and fifth gears missing. It always seems like you are starting in second, and the gaps between the gears are not valleys, but canyons”. I have an alternate description: a two-speed stick with a long overdrive. Either way, not very sporty, considering the Vega’s sporty styling. GM was sending mixed messages.
But the GM engineer’s unorthodox thinking worked, after a fashion. The Vega was the second fastest in the C/D test after the wheel-spinning Gremlin, with a then timely 12.2 seconds in the 0-60. Good thing they didn’t test the automatic. Hooked up to the ancient two-speed Powerglide, forward thrust was truly glacial. I know; a good friend was a very early Vega adopter/burn victim. I drove it. It really sucked. It felt like it was dragging a sledge behind it. That was all the bite of the apple I needed to feel like retching, and I began my personal GM Death Watch right then and there.
Handling (and cute looks, on the pre-safety bumper versions) was always the Vega’s one dynamic strong point: “Handling is very good with mild understeer and tolerant breakaway characteristics. The biggest surprise is the steering, which is light and accurate…the Vega is quick and nimble”. And that’s the base Vega; the GT got an up-rated suspension. But it still had nothing on GM’s own Opel 1900/Manta, which is what GM should have just based the Vega on altogether.
C/D’s un-GT sedan version garnered heavy criticism for its interior: Klutzy hard plastic moldings and an instrument panel with nothing more than a horizontal speedometer. The floor is wall-to-wall black rubber, and all the controls required exceptionally long travel. The missing glove box. And the Pinto has a bigger back seat than the considerably bigger and heavier Vega. GM’s bean counters were all over it. But despite the cost-cutting, the Vega was not cheap; in fact it cost a full 15% more than the other competitors, and weighed some 400 lbs more. Satisfying American’s lazy highway cruising habits came at a price, as it always has.
The truth is, this comparison is all wrong given the Vega’s price point. It should have been compared to the Datsun 510, Toyota Corona, and the VW 1600 Type 3. And a nicely optioned GT wagon like this one would have put it right in BMW 1602/2002 territory. The outcomes would have been all-too different.
From this 1971 comparison and vantage point, it’s pretty obvious to see how the future played out. But the Vega’s self-destructive tendencies weren’t the only reason for its demise. Once the Corolla got a bigger engine and a five speed, it ran circles around the Vega and Pinto. The VW Beetle soon died, to be replaced by the brilliant Simca-inspired Golf/Rabbit. The relatively reliable Pinto soldiered/moldered along, until eventually replaced by the Simca/Golf-inspired FWD Escort. Chrysler jumped into the fray with the Simca-derived Omni-Horizon. And the Gremlin just became an historical oddity.
The real winners in this comparison: the Simca 1204’s DNA, which is now ubiquitous; and the Corolla, for figuring out how to satisfy Americans’ small-car hunger without the heartburn.
The Vega had a decent sales start. But its biggest sales year was 1974, when it hit the top-ten seller list thanks to the energy crisis as well as the top of the national shit list thanks to mass engine crises. In 1975, sales plummeted, and by 1977 “amnesia Vegatitus acute” became a new national mental health epidemic. By then, the Vega was anything but cute.
All the more reason why just finding this gem of an early Vega GT Kammback was the really big win of this shoot-out. In fact, stumbling across it became the green light for this whole 1971 CC comparo, despite knowing I’d never find a Simca. I’d seen the nose of this yellow Vega in an old garage downtown some years ago.
And suddenly, there it was, sitting in front of a hand-made artisanal broom company. What a perfect setting; and where else but in Eugene? Well, witches need wheels too, to go buy their brooms. And the Vega certainly was cursed from the get-go. (Update: I forgot; Stephanie has one of their brooms; it really is quite the well-made thing; it’s still going strong in 2018)
And this one, the first non hot-rodded V8 Vega I’ve seen in maybe a decade, is exactly the color and configuration that got my juices going while mentally masturbating with a Vega brochure in 1971: optional two-barrel 110 (gross) hp engine, four-speed stick, and that GT instrument panel with full gauges. Only the lovely GT wheels are MIA.
And this gem is (was) for sale! The owner is reducing her carbon-footprint and going all-broom all the time. And it actually runs, on its original (although possibly sleeved) engine. The serpent is still at work; the apple is more tempting now than ever. And the irony is not just in my (cylinder) head: driving a GM car, the very one that brought the company down, yet a car no one under thirty-five recognizes in this terminally PC town of bikes, brooms, old Volvos and W123’s is a delicious thought. I’ll just put a “powered by Biodiesel” sticker on it, ‘cause it sure shakes and quivers like an old Mercedes 240 Diesel. Or maybe convert it to an EV and put “Volt” badges on it. Mmm; delicious!
In 1973-74 I had my ‘dream job’ at Norm’s Sunoco in Fremont, Ohio, as a 17 year old. I remember a Vega owner/customer. (This was before self-serve gas stations, and when everyone got ‘full-service’.) I’d check the oil, and the (at most) 2-3 year old, 25k mile Vega was almost always ‘low’. I recall the fenders were rusting. And by the time I went off to college after the summer of ’74, that car was no longer running. I also remember what I think was GM’s first use of the silly rubber ‘plug’ for an oil cap. (Probably saved 3 cents per car). And the much vaunted “50,000 mile air cleaner” assembly where you had to replace the whole thing. Given how long these cars lasted, they could have advertised “will last the life of the car!”
For good reason here in Qc we named the Véga and his canadian pontiac sibling : Déga & Désastre , meaning Damage & Disaster . ” Proudly ” produce at Ste-Thérese GM plant during 1973-74 to supplement the 400,000 units coming from the Lordstown plant. So , Chevrolet planned for an additional 150,000 Vegas a year be produced in its St. Therese, Québec facility.
Pretty goddamn grim time to be in the market for a small car, when this was the, um, »koff« “best”.
I’ve seen a few period Mopar promo films comparing the Duster and Valiant to the Vega. The Vega wasn’t really all that much cheaper. The gas mileage on a Powerglide Vega can’t be that good can it? I might have to agree with the Mopar propaganda films on this one. The Valiant is the better value over Vega.
Let’s be honest- almost anything was a better value than a Vega. But this also illustrates why it’s best to take the car guru’s advice with a grain of salt. That same year, Car & Driver did a comparison of six little supercoupes. Number 1, by a hair, was the Opel Manta, followed by the Mazda RX-2. Presumably, this was before they realized the Mazda’s primary moving parts had the same shape… and durability… of a Dorito. The Capri came in 3rd, only later did we realize what a truly wonderful little car it was. And the Celica came in 4th. Knowing then what we know now, that would have been a no-brainer 1st or 2nd place.
Also interesting, the Vega was the most expensive car in the group, by a pretty fair amount.
https://www.curbsideclassic.com/vintage-review/vintage-comparison-test-1971-super-coupes-car-and-driver-evaluates-a-new-class-of-small-sporty-cars/
This particular comparison was actually pretty upfront about the Vega’s shortcomings, about which the editors were not exactly thrilled. (This didn’t include reliability, but at the time of writing, it was too early to tell.) They noted that it was the most expensive, that it had weirdly spaced gearing, that it wasn’t especially well-furnished, etc., but they said that it won because it was the only one of the rivals that could pass as an all-around car, capable of both city economy and endurable highway trips. So, it wasn’t that they were blind to its immediate faults, just that all of these cars required some uncomfortable compromises.
From a dynamic standpoint, the Celica’s position in the supercoupe rankings was about right. The RX-2 edged out the Capri on account of being a bunch faster, albeit quite thirsty. (C/D ran an RX-2 in SCCA competition with considerable success, enough that they got it effectively banned, so as a performer, it had plenty to recommend it.)
One thing I appreciated about C/D in ye olden days is that they were usually clear about what the priorities of their comparison tests were supposed to be. This one, for instance, was about economy cars — note that the Vega is not a four-speed GT, which would have driven better but been even more expensive.
My dad had a Capri back in the 80’s. He still talks about that car every once in awhile. Apparently that car could shake a tailfeather if you felt the urge.
The Vega wagon even got a mention in Bloom County. Apologies for the poor quality, but this was the only one I could find:
One more Bloom County, 1982:
Lewis Grizzard (or possibly Dave Barry) wrote about leaving his Vega with the keys in it in a strip mall parking lot in the bad part of town. He’d hide around the corner with a set of jumper cables in case a would-be thief couldn’t get it started. He’s also talk about how his Vega had more miles up and down on the mechanic’s lift than it did going forward or backward.
Here is a link to a November 1971 head-to-head Vega v. Pinto 15,000 mile comparison test.
https://s3.amazonaws.com/amv-prod-cad-assets/files/chevrolet-vega-vs-ford-pintochevrolet-vega-versus-ford-pinto-long-term-comparo-nov-1971.pdf
I find it fascinating reading. C&D weren’t particularly impressed with either car, and their comments about the quality of American car engineering, build-quality, and dealer service are well worth noting.
If you don’t choose to read the whole article, just note that the Vega engine was so rough (engineered that way) that it shook the carburetor loose from the intake, even though GM loctited to bolts at the factory, and the Pinto came with a camshaft 10 degrees out of phase…and neither of two dealerships caught it, despite a TSB from Ford.
It doesn’t take much of crystal ball to see why the Japanese car invasion was bound to happen, regardless of gasoline prices.
My only Vega memory is a 1976-77 girlfriend’s car, which also looked pretty sharp. Under the hood I remember the rubber oil-fill plug in the valve cover, and that it had (like the early Pinto engine) mechanical lifters.
Here’s another test I just turned up: Popular Mechanics, March 1971. Makes me wish I could drive in a spanking-new 1600cc early Pinto to see what it was like:
The original 2300 (up through 1975) had mechanical lifters that were adjusted by turning a tapered screw in the valve. IIRC, it gave 0.003″ adjustment for every full turn of the screw (to keep the flat against the valve stem). The Dura-Built engines starting in 1976 had hydraulic lifters.
Anyone recall the film “The Paper Chase” ? Lindsay Wagner drove a I believe a 1973 Vega wagon as Kingsfield’s daughter.
Everything in this article is true, and then some. I had the misfortune to buy one of these clunkers the first night they came out for sale. It was a red hatchback with upgraded interior, and was essentially the GT without the badging. It was somewhat of a rare build and had the 2 speed powerglide. Little did I know until later, my car had been damaged in transport from the factory. Vegas were shipped in Boxcar type rail cars that the sides unfolded and the cars were backed into the sides of the cars, then chainbindered to the walls nose down. mine had the binders break in shipment dropping it on it’s nose. I should have taken that as a forewarning of my problems,, as if it wasn’t in the dealers for engine work, it was in a body shop from every idiot in Portland, Oregon using it for a pinball bumper. First problem I had was with the carburetor linkage falling off in rush hour traffic, jamming the engine to redline. At least the attachment bolt didn’t fall off so I was able to put it back together.Next was the air filter. It was advertised as never needing replacement for 40,000 miles. Longest I ever had one last was maybe 12,000 if it wasn’t totally plugged up by then with carbon, and oil. Bad thing was it was expensive to replace as it was a sealed until like an oil filter. I finally modified one by prying it apart so the element inside could be replaced like a real car’s air filter. Next problem was oil consumption. Not from the reasons as described in the article, but from leaking front and rear oil seals. this wouldn’t have been a problem if GM had used conventional oil seals, but like everything else on the Vega, they didn’t. The oil seals were done with Silicone sealant, and GM for the longest time didn’t have enough to take care of the cars they had sold, and instead allocated all the silicone sealant to the factory to build more of these monstrosities. The final straw for me was when I had a problem with my car on the way home from Reno, Nevada to Portland, and I was run out of one dealer then insulted at the next one 40 miles away. The first dealer was in Weed, California, and they threatened to call the cops on me if I didn’t get my car off their lot. (it was still under warranty). The next dealer, in Yreka did take and put the car up on a lift to find out the problem was a broken weld on the Torque Convertor Shield, but when I drove it in , the Owner of the dealership was talking to a prospective customer, and said, ” Look at that dumb kid . Buys a nice car and tears it up”. I turned to him and ripped him a new asshole over that remark. Admittedly I did look very young, looking like a fifteen year old even though I was 21. I told him I bought the Vega thinking it was an economy car, but it had been anything but. I also told him if I wanted a performance car I would’ve bought a Corvette ( yes, I did make the kind of money back then to be able to afford one). I turned to his customer, and told him, “Mr., if this is the type of guy you are buying a car from, I’d go across the street to the Ford Dealer”. My complaints went so far as to GM’s Regional Offices, where they said ,” If you wanted a Chevrolet, you should have bought an Impala”. The sticker price for my POS was over $3500.00 ( more than most impalas of the time).
Needless to say, I bought another vehicle within six months only this time I bought a Datsun pickup. I sold the Vega for less than was owing on it just to get it out of my driveway the next year.
‘s Here in Totonto somebody drove a restored (or very well preserved) Pontiac Astre coupe in the late 90s until about 2004 and parked it daily in the lot where a McDonalds corporate office is located at Wynford Dr & Concord Pl. It was a 70’s dark orange with a racing stripe along the side. The Pontiac grille treatment looked less dated than the Chevy’s. It was a cute and attractive car for it’s day.
I don;t remember there being a lot of these cars even when I first visited Toronto in 1978 as a child. To my recollection they were significantly outnumbered by Commets, Mavericks, Dusters Pinto’s, Bobcats and Gremlins so for me it was more of a novelty than nostalgia.
There may not have been many Vega wagons here in T.O., but there were zillions of coupes. Many Pintos too. The Pontiac Astre was less common, but I had an SIL who had one. It leaked all manner of vehicular fluids everywhere it meandered, and was given up at five years old in a condition more fitting a 15 year old beaten up wreck.
All of which is not to say there weren’t kagillions of Dusters, Novas, Mavericks, Comets too. Gremlins were pretty scarce even then.
I’m just a bit too young to remember these cars when they were disappointing new cars – I, and my age cohorts, only remember when they were disappointing used cars.
I bet for the first few months after they first came out in the market, they were really neat!
They were still good looking though, you know, all the places that weren’t rusted through yet in the Chicago weather. Never did get a ride in one however – the few times I got an offer – the cars wouldn’t start. Sad.
Pintos – yeah – plenty of experience with those. Same with Gremlins. And Monzas. But as for Vegas, their reputation preceded them by 1975 and it seemed that they were off the roads pretty quickly.
Yeah, the “after 75’s”supposedly had waay less motor issues, too too may fit/finish issues.
Forget now if it was them, thinking the “p/s” pumps were notorious for failure too. H’mm.
Around this time Road & Track did a comparison test of 5 economy sedans, including the Vega. They said the Vega’s trunk was reasonably large but “the tackiest we have seen in a long time.”
They summed up each car with 2 or 3 adjectives. The cars, from best to worst:
1. Toyota Corona: quiet, comfortable, and strong.
2. Datsun 510: roomy, capable, and entertaining.
3. Vega: able and roadable but crude.
4. Ford Pinto: mediocre but cute.
5. VW bug: durable but antiquated.
” Oh well, Pontiac’s cast-iron four (“Iron Duke”), a revised and updated Chevy II 153 four, ended up replacing the ill-starred Vega engine anyway.”
I thought we’ve debunked this since this post was originally written.
We’ve debunked the common myth that it’s not.
The chronology: GM Brazil gets tooling to build the Chevy 153 four and 230 six. In order to make the four less buzzy, they increase the bore to 4″ and decrease the stroke to 3″, making it the 151.
Pontiac gets the nod to build a simple four as an Vega 2300 antidote. You think they’re going to start with a clean sheet of paper. Of course not. They make some changes to the Chevy four block, design a new head (for improved emissions) and use the Brazilian Chevy bore and stroke. But the block is just an updated and revised Chevy 153, which explains why a Chevy 153 crankshaft will drop right in, to increase the stroke and displacement.
Sure, Pontiac naturally found a few internal components that they could share with their “new” 301, which had the same bore and stroke. But the Iron Duke is not “a half” of the 301, since the critical bore spacing in the ID block is still the same as the Chevy, whereas the 301 used the Pontiac V8 bore spacing.
Ultimately, it’s all about engine transfer lines; the extremely expensive machines that do all the milling and boring on blocks. Pontiac already had a Chevy-spec transfer line for inline engines from when they built the 215 and the OHC 230/250, which were of course all Chevy based. So they obviously wanted to reuse that equipment, hence the Chevy-based block for the Iron Duke.
If anyone has links to good videos showing how major engine parts are actually manufactured and assembled, I’d love to see them.
The reason the Vega is a Deadly Sin is not so much due to its poor engineering, it’s simply that it was a bad car from the world’s largest and foremost auto manufacturer, and they built and sold a whole lot of them.
In looking through the company’s long and storied history (specifically, Chevrolet), in order to find the last truly dismal product, you have to go all the way back to the 1923 Series-M Copper-Cooled Chevrolet. Even then, only 759 of those were ever built (and GM had planned on spitting out something like 50k), and of those 759, only 100 made it into customer’s hands. They were so bad, all but two of them were recalled and destroyed. A whole lot more Vegas made it out the door.
Seemed a golden marketing opportunity for aftermarket companies offering enlarged radiators, rustproofing packages, performance and handling kits, given so many time bombs were on the road.
In the CUV era, it’s hard to fathom why GM had to make their small cars (actually, all of them) so low in height. A higher proportion of Americans were shorter, slimmer, and bendier back then, but you’d think someone would have tried a different formula, besides the freaky AMC Pacer.
The Thingy.
Listen – it whispers: “You may call me Adolf”.
Retrospec articles like this focus on the negative, but ignore all the happy customers who actually were pleased with their cars, such as the Vega, Olds diesel, Corvair. The negative vibe gets all the attention.
Happy customers? Largely only in the honeymoon period, shortly after buying these cars, like the people in those Popular Mechanics owners’ surveys.
I was very happy with my new 1975 VW Rabbit until 3.5 months after purchase when it wouldn’t start one fine morning. This was the start of long list of problems….
Happy customers? Please tell me this was sarcasm.