On my recent visit to Northern California, I managed to catch a glimpse of something increasingly rare and much cherished here at CC; a veritable and mostly original 1960s classic still serving as daily transport. In this case, a 1966 Plymouth Valiant, on a home where it seems to serve as the only transport. A vintage Pentastar product still providing the service it was intended for at conception.
However, “daily” is probably a bit of an overstatement, as it’s most likely just used for the occasional errand by its owner. An elderly lady of white hair in the town of El Cerrito. Still, as “daily” as a car of this era needs to be.
Oftentimes a few days is all that’s needed to get a sense of life in a neighborhood. And I shall insist, my stay was a brief ten days. Still, one early morning I saw the Valiant pulling ahead of my rental about half a block away. The old car moved forward leisurely, with the owner’s graying hairs somewhat visible through the open window as it turned a corner. Meanwhile, the car’s tailpipe left a thick trail of early morning rich mixture –a likely sign the car was local!
Great! But where was it? I only had a few days to find out.
Ask and you shall receive. Though perhaps not in the way one had hoped for. I had given up on the idea of finding the “daily” when on my way to return my rental, I found the vehicle as I was leaving town. It was drizzling and I was in a rush, while my cell phone camera kept getting wet smudges; not quite the best of conditions. But if not then, when?
But I had found it. And as I expected, with all the signs of being a car in regular use.
I’ll leave it up to you to debate what the story behind the car might be (Cast your votes!). A Valiant owned since new and still in the same hands? That’s the unlikeliest, though most romantic, of scenarios to me.
Far more probable in my head, it belongs to a driver who learned to enjoy Detroit compacts as they used to be. And in the 58 years since this Valiant came off the assembly line, said owner never learned to love the rational cookie-cutter aerodynamic offerings from the 1980s, the jellybeans of the ’90s, much less the angry-kitchen-appliances of the SUV/CUV era.
And if you learned to enjoy the compacts of that period, the Valiant was as good an offering as they came. As such, I believe this Valiant just replaced an earlier Pentastar compact.
As Pentastar fans know, not much was new on the 1966 Valiant other than its exterior skin and trim/option updates. Styling-wise, while the Jet-Age ’60-’62 Valiants had proved to be quite evolutionary, the ’63-’66 run would enjoy far more significant updates from year to year. By ’66, the model carried a more substantial and formal look in keeping with the rest of Chrysler’s lineup. Gone for good, the front fender’s hairpin, last of the remaining flourishes that could be easily traced to Exner’s era.
In all, the car offered a more dignified and elegant look, more 1960s elegance than counterculture/youthful vibes.
For ’66, the Valiant remained Plymouth’s entry model. Trim lines included the 100, 200, and Signet in corresponding ascending order. Seats in the 100 trim line came solely in vinyl, while vinyl and cloth were available in the 200 and Signet lines. Signet buyers could also opt for “shell-type” bucket seats and a new floor-mounted console available for the manual 4-speed. Elsewhere, in power trains, Chrysler’s venerable slant-six was offered in 175CID and 225CID displacements. For those who wished for more power, the Commando 273CID V-8 was offered in two states of tune, which translated to 180HP or 235HP.
Remaining in the performance area, two additional novelties for ’66 were front wheels disc brakes, and a new Inland-GM shift mechanism on the 4-speeds. Thicker torsion bars and an additional leaf spring completed the package for V-8 powered models.
Those who desired a hotrod Valiant could have it. ‘66 Valiant wagon image from the Cohort by canadiancatgreen.
If you enjoyed your Valiants in a higher-performance package, all the power to you. However, for most buyers, Valiants were reliable daily transport and enjoyed as such. And on that they delivered.
As an MT test said on a 225CID powered ’66 Signet: “The Plymouth Valiant doesn’t offer tire-smoking acceleration, but does deliver decent performance for daily driving –and does it with an eye in economy… With its reasonable price and over-20-mpg gas mileage, a lot of value is received for the nominal outlay.” The reasons that would turn Chrysler compacts into favorites with buyers.
While I never met, much less talked, to this Valiant’s owner, I’m sure that tire-smoking acceleration was far from their priorities when they bought it. Instead, I’m certain the purchase responded to the attributes cited by MT.
That said, I do wonder, what version of the slant-six may be under its hood?
I would think the car has been re-sprayed at some point. Or not… There’s enough water damage there to know that if so, it wasn’t a recent job. The color looks a bit more turquoise than the factory spec “light blue”, but how to be sure without knowing the car’s actual history?
Still, if I go from what trim is left on the car, this is a 100. The lowest of the Valiants; something the interior’s vinyl seems to suggest as well.
Once again, I owe you an interior shot, which came out poorly and filled with smudges. (Did I tell you it was drizzling? And that I was in a rush?). So let’s instead check that dashboard with the help of this older shot, taken by Eric703. And yes, it belongs to another ’66 that had served as daily transport until its later days.
Unsurprisingly, the ’66 Valiant’s dashboard shared much in feel with its Dart sibling, though the two still made an effort to differentiate from each other. The instrument cluster with its modernist square gauges, was the Valiant’s most distinctive bit for ’66. As for the one featured today from El Cerrito, I’m pretty sure it also had a TorqueFlite auto and the seats were partially covered with the common blanket-as-upholstery look.
Here on the grille is a remnant of the Valiant’s earlier days. The model’s distinctive “V” emblem, a holdover from the brief 1-year that the Valiant stood as a separate make before turning into a Plymouth in ’61.
Changes were coming in ’67 and the mission of Chrysler’s A-body compacts was to become yet more “utility” oriented. At Plymouth, while you could still spice up your Valiant, the Duster and Barracuda spoke better to those who wished for affordable performance. In all, lineup updates that did generally well for the A-body platform.
After all, by the late ’60s and early ’70s, the A-bodies often took 30 percent or more of compact sales. This at a time when Chrysler had dropped to a low 15% overall market share. So those Pentastar compacts of the period found their fans, as can be seen in today’s surviving sample. Never mind the accouterments and comforts of cars from the 2010s, 2000s or 1990s; to some, these compacts were all that they ever wanted and needed.
Related CC reading:
Curbside Classic: 1966 Plymouth Valiant – Aging In Place
CC For Sale: 1966 Plymouth Valiant – Chili And A Baked Potato
CC For Sale: 1966 Plymouth Valiant 200 Wagon – Hot Rodded Family Hauler
I saved my 66 Valiant from a junk yard back around 2009 or 2010. Cost me $125.00. Still have the car.
I’m going with original owner car! She clearly did not feel the need to replace it. And perhaps all this new fangled stuff in the today vehicle turned her off.
And why not? Basic, reliable transportation. Exactly the road my dad took in his later years.
I’d own an old Valiant or Dart. Even though the Brougham environment is missing! Great story and I’m glad you got some time away.
I’m betting on this being an original color. Chrysler offered both a baby blue and a similarly pale turquoise, which this seems to be.
On the backstory, my money is on the current old gray-haired lady being the daughter of the first old gray-haired lady (or man) who bought it new or as a late model used car. I envy that kind of climate that is so kind to sheet metal.
I ma increasingly nostalgic for cars like this, that would keep running for decades with little more than tune-ups and oil changes. Today I hear so many stories about badly designed engines (from multiple manufacturers) that can’t get to 80k miles without costly repairs.
Nice essay on a wonderful piece of reliable transportation.
The Valiant and house behind it say to me they belong to somebody ambivalent towards the Twentyfirst Century (like myself). I would be reluctant to be too confident about the age of the owner though, one of my sons friends (late twenties) lives in a Seventies bungalow and refuses to drive anything but real, not BMW, Mini’s. The whole headline image fits together so perfectly.
I believe the black and gold tags were discontinued around 1973 so it appears that car has not transferred title or been assigned the blue and yellow tags (which I was issued in 1973) from a sale.
Strike my twentysomething Twentieth Century revivalist then, but that’s what’s interesting about this site, I learn so much.
The basics of life provided by a classic example of the basics in personal transportation.
This would be a good passenger car analogue to my ’66 F100.
These were popular as cheap, reliable used cars in the late ’70s and all through the ’80s and well into the ’90s. My off the wall guess is that the current owner bought it from an elderly person in the neighborhood, on the advice of a friend or partner or such. And she’s become very attached to it. And like many folks in older neighborhoods, doesn’t drive it very often.
There’s a beige ’66 Valiant in my town that appears to get (almost) daily action.
Near the Belvedere Apartments on E. Holly.