Edna was a fixture in her small, Midwestern town. For many, many moons she had been the music teacher at the local public school. She was also known for her 1970 Plymouth Valiant.
Several people wondered if Edna had actually ever driven her Plymouth Valiant anywhere outside their town of 450 persons. They had never seen it move except on the coldest and wettest days when Edna would not walk across the small town to get to the school. In the summer time, Edna could be seen working in her large garden, and the Plymouth sat unattended in Edna’s carport.
Or so people thought.
Edna did drive her car a little bit. But every so often, she could tell that it didn’t seem to run as well or as smoothly as she thought it should. To her, it just didn’t seem to have the pep she thought the 225 cubic inch (3.7-liter) slant six should possess. That is when she sought a tune-up for her Valiant.
Edna’s late husband, the town barber, had known every man in the community. And there was only one person her late husband would trust to work on his car – Gerald, a man who lived way out in the woods off a series of gravel roads. So on those occasions when the Valiant was sputtering, Edna would call Gerald. Gerald had the magic touch.
One morning, Edna called Gerald. She told him she was going to make the 90 minute trip to see her daughter and she thought the Valiant would benefit from one of his tune-ups. Gerald said he would be by later in the morning to retrieve it.
Just before lunch, Gerald pulled up in his old Ford one-ton truck with his helper Randy. Edna handed Gerald the keys and he drove it back to his shop with Randy following in the Ford. Edna was right, Gerald thought to himself, it’s not running very well. Once back at the shop, the process began.
“Randy, you do such a good job on these tune-ups. Have at it, make Edna proud,” Gerald knowingly said. He had never told Randy what to do, but he knew exactly what Randy would do. Gerald was no dummy.
“Okay, boss, you got it! It’ll take me a few hours, you know,” Randy said.
“Oh, that’s not a problem, Randy. Take the time you need. You do seem to have a knack for Edna’s car.”
Randy opened the hood on Edna’s car. He shook his head at what he viewed. Randy, owner of a ’71 Road Runner, saw no earthly reason why anyone would waste their time with a pedestrian six cylinder. But Randy did know enough to realize that Chrysler’s slant six was an engine that taunted you to abuse it. Randy knew Edna certainly abused her engine by never driving it any distance with any frequency.
One by one, Randy pulled out each spark plug to check for carbon. When all was okay, he pulled the car out to the gas pumps. Randy carefully put together what he called “The Edna Concoction”. It consisted of one part regular gasoline, four parts racing fuel, and a quart of fuel treatment. Firing the Valiant up again, Randy eased out toward the paved road.
As soon as the car was fully on dry pavement, Randy grinned devilishly and shoved his foot to the firewall. The old slant six paused, lurched, and then coughed. After a brief moment of hesitation, it took off as best it could muster. Randy kept his foot on the floor waiting for “The Edna Concoction” to get thoroughly sloshed around in the fuel tank and go to work. Randy kept his foot on the floor as the old slant six was working its way out of its carbon induced misery. As Randy looked down, the speedometer hit 40 mph, then 50, then 60, and kept climbing toward 70. As soon as it hit 70, Randy slammed on the brakes.
When the old Valiant was almost to a stop, Randy grinned again and shoved his foot to the floor to repeat the process. His method was to do this about 12 to 15 times then turn around and drive as fast as the old Valiant was capable for the trip back toward town. Just shy of getting there, Randy would turn around to perform this operation two more times. By the end of the third trip, Randy could really tell the difference. He never told Gerald what he did.
As Randy pulled back to the shop, Gerald smiled to himself, figuring Randy probably had had the exhaust manifold on the engine cherry red for quite a while. Gerald had always been of the opinion there was nothing Randy could do to damage Edna’s slant six as that engine was as close to indestructible as ever there was. Gerald also knew that Edna’s Valiant needed to be driven and Randy was taking out his frustrations with Edna on her car. Edna had given Randy many a paddling for his blatantly singing falsetto and changing the lyrics during his years of her music classes.
Gerald figured it was a win-win for everyone involved.
Randy relished the thought of getting something over on Miss Edna.
Edna was never the wiser. She just knew her Valiant ran a lot better.
Edna’s Valiant was one of 50,810 Valiant sedans Plymouth built in 1970, a volume of just over one-quarter the number of Dusters that were sold. About the only option Edna had on her car was the 145 gross horsepower 225 (3.7 liter) slant six; a 125 gross horsepower 198 cubic inch (3.3 liter) slant six was standard. The nearly equally trusty and ready for torture 318 cubic inch (5.2 liter) V8 was also optional on the 108″ wheelbase Valiant; this engine was rated at 230 gross horsepower.
At a base price of $2250, the Valiant was still a car that could be purchased for less than a dollar per pound as it weighed 2835 pounds (or about 1285 kilograms).
I got really excited when I found this car, because inspiration hit immediately. It was found outside of a car show I was attending here in Jefferson City. Upon spotting it, I scurried across the capital lawn to snap a few pictures. Oddly, it left a bigger positive impression on me than any of the modified cars in attendance – or maybe not so oddly. This Valiant was unabashedly pure in what it was intended to be and nobody has altered it or hijacked its intended purpose. After seeing so many cars that had been modified within an inch of their existence, this was a breath of fresh air.
I hope Edna checked if the radiator hose is ok just in case if a red old Peterbuilt truck decide to follow her for a game of cat and mouse for a “Duel”. 😉
One of the basic cable channels here (TBS or TNT, can’t remember which) used to show that movie at least once every 3 weeks-it was uncanny. It seemed that every night after barhopping & subsequent channel surfing THERE is was again.
However, I don’t think this movie has been shown in over a decade — and NO, it’s not because I still don’t come home w/ a buzz and channel surf.
Very freaky movie.
Actually, it has continued to be aired. One of my sons watched it 2 or 3 years ago and loved it. He informed me that Duel was Steven Spielberg’s first movie. Did not know that.
One of my favorites, the way its filmed is great, in reality its a simpler version of Jaws, with the truck as the shark. The Peterbuilt is so menacing and those alternating shots of the truck looming the rearview mirror and the climbing speedo on the Valiant combined with David Mann’s scared look on his face, its really good filmaking considering its not a big budget film.
Yes, especially frightening when Dennis Weaver steps on it and the speedo only shows 50-55 mph!
…Must’ve been a 225 😉
In some of the shots there are V8 fender emblems on the car, he does manage to wind the little Valiant up to almost 100mph at one point.
I always imagined hm walking into a dealership after the whole ordeal was over and asking for the biggest car with the biggest engine possible!
I can assure you . . . the Valiant (the ’72 Scamp derivitive) with the little Carter two-pot carb would FLY . . . literally as when I hit three digits, it got downright scary. The front end was lifting off the ground (rotation?) and the already steering in mineral oil feeling of Mopar overassisted steering) got even scarier at 90+ mph . . . . I was 18 at the time; young and stupid. I had a couple of buddies that had a ’69 and ’70 Dart GT 340 respectively . . . they told me it was scarier at 110+. BTW . . . I embarassed many a hot car of the day (’60s muscle cars, not smogger California ’70s cars) when this white vinyl top over sky-blue whitewall tired Scamp would shut ’em down . . . (especially the Mustang stones!)
IMDB’s trivia on “Duel” says, “The Valiant used in the film was actually 3 different cars. For the television release there was a 1970 with a 318 V8 (as witnessed by the 1970-only “V-EIGHT” spear-type emblems on the forward portion of the front fenders), and a 1971 with a 225 slant six. When the added scenes were filmed, a 1972 Valiant with a 225 Slant Six was used. This makes sense, due to the fact that the television showing was in November 1971, 3 months into the 1972 model year. All three Valiants had 1971-only, Plymouth-only wheel covers.”
One of my favorite movies, directed by none other than Steven Spielberg. I saw it the first time it aired on TV, and I’ve seen it perhaps three times since then. A real low-budget classic, like the Valiant itself.
Duel is a great film. I have a copy of it on VHS, but I remember watching it as a kid when my mom would visit my aunt in Davenport.
IMCDB has our Valiant Dueler.
Oh, yeah, that old movie! I got goosebumps every time I see it. But it is somehow weird how the little Valiant can’t escape from the old rig being a lighter and (i think) faster vehicle than the Peterbilt, besides, this truck looks older
There was a little undercranking going on in several scenes of you look for it. The ‘Pete had its original drivetrain that topped out at 2100 rpm at 62 mph.
guy: this is a CC technical question: how/why did you happen to find yourself at this article last night?
Just googling stuff. Happened on it by happenstance. And I like the movie. I’m a truck driver too ya know. Did I do something wrong? If so, just say so.
No; not at all. I had scheduled this post to run again today, but then changed my mind. I was wondering if you somehow read my mind. 🙂
I like your post Stephane I was watching the movie and this was the site I came to when I Looked up Plymouth cars 1971 when the movie was made. I laughed when I saw your comment.
The quintessential music teacher’s car. Great story – read like one from the old Model Garage series!
Heh. Yet another was my brother’s piano teacher in St. Claire Shores (suburb of Detroit) in the 50s. She drove a full sized Citroen (DS?). Since the majority of the people living on that block worked for the Big 3 or in supporting industries, it fit the oddball mold.
Not sure how they got tuneups, but I mowed lawns for a pair of little old ladies in the summer of 68. I had to go into the garage every time, and took a look at the odometer of their ’60 Fleetwood. 18K miles in those 8 years. They drove to the post office every weekday and once a year, they visited a sister out of town.
I should talk; we have 48K miles on my wife’s 98 Ranger. At least, a trip to the grocery store is 80 miles round trip…
What a great car. I love the magnets holding notes all over the steel dash. But why that green interior on a beige car? Just like my 68 Newport. Ugh.
When I was a kid, a friend of my Mom had a 69 Valiant 100 that she bought new. She was tight with a dollar and told me that the only options on the car were backup lights, a radio and the 225 slant six. Otherwise, rubber mats, three on the tree. She (and later her husband) drove it for years until rust finally undid one of the torsion bar anchors.
I loved your story with the Edna concoction. I later owned a 71 Scamp (slant six and Torqueflite) which was the first car I ever bought with over 100K on the odo. My favorite performance trick on the car was learned by accident. These always started hard when warm, as a consequence of the carb and intake being so close to the exhaust manifold.
I decided to try a second heat shield gasket under the carb (making about 3/4 inch of gasket). I discovered that this allowed me to advance the timing a lot before it would start to knock. The initial warmup was a little slow, but with 10 degrees of timing advance, the slant six was almost rocket-like (for a slant six) and gas mileage was excellent, too. In the fall I would go back to the standard setup.
Being a college kid, I never had the kind of carbon buildup problems that Edna had. Neither did my roommate with his red 72 Duster. If memory serves, my Scamp was capable of breaking 90 mph, maybe 92. I finally sold mine after about 5 years with about 145K on it, and it still ran smooth as a baby’s butt.
Ha ha ha! That “concoction” account made me smile. Why? Well, after I bought my 1970 Duster right out of the air force – I told that story at least once – I drove it for a couple of months until I found the 1972 Nova the day dad retired.
I gave the car to my parents, as it was in better shape than the old 1966 Impala that wasn’t taken care of at all when I left for the service four years before – it was shot.
Anyway, my parents never drove too much after that except to see my aunt down in Kirkwood, MO every so often.
Eventually, the car wasn’t running too well, so my buddy and I couldn’t figure out what was wrong, so I drove it to our mechanic. The next day he called and I went to his shop to see what all the fuss was about. He showed me what he found after removing the valve cover! The inside of the cover was completely filled with sludge and you could hardly see the valve train as it was caked over as well!
The oil? Bunker oil in consistancy…
That was the price you pay for not driving the car far enough to actually warm it up, or even doing basic maintenance. I should have taken the car out every so often but being a kid still, it never occurred to me, and I had lots of “stuff” to do at that age in my early-mid 20’s…
After that, the car ran fine and I did drive it every so often and even had it repainted. That car, not much more than a modern-day Model T, served mom and dad well for six years when, by that time, dad had died, the car was eaten up with rust and mom bought herself a brand-new 1979 AMC Concord that served her and us extremely well until she stopped driving and we sold it to a neighbor in September, 1990 – the same neighbor we sold our Reliant to 2½ years earlier!
I was a big fan of these cars – Valiant and Duster and Dart. Good, basic reliable cars that got the job done without fuss. I miss them.
Chrysler, you were once very, very good. Will you be again? Are you now?
I REALLY MISS PLYMOUTH…
Yeah…I miss them, too. What I REALLY miss, are times when cars and the rules were a lot simpler. When a product could reflect the people building it, and not other forces and factors regulating and limiting it. But that takes us to another topic.
The tendency is to see the old times through rose-colored glasses; but we need to remember what this Valiant represented. It was born of crisis in Chrysler’s first-of-many flits with bankruptcy. It was made to a price; witness the slab sides, the flat side glass. It was targeting the same demographic that Rambler was turning away from…the older owner who wore a hat inside his car.
Those, too, were tough times for Chrysler. Tough times just past, and more tough times ahead with the slick-talking poseur Townsend cooking the books.
This series of Valiant came out fall of 1966 as a 67 model, and would have been developed in 1964-65-66. I always considered this car the lucky beneficiary of being developed in one of Chrysler’s “fat” periods, and then not replaced like other models when the cost cutting began in earnest (69 C body and 71 B body, I am looking at you.) We are fortunate that the Volare did not come out in 1973 or so.
The glass actually did have a little-bitty curve on these, and there was also some nice character lines sculpted into the sides. The Darts (that also became the 71 Scamp) on the 3 inch longer wheelbase also did some interesting sculpting over the rear wheels.
I think one of the reasons that these continued to sell so well was that by 1974-76, it was the only car left that had all of the stuff that people had liked in their B and C body Mopars from the mid 1960s. Also, the no-nonsense styling was just the thing for conservative folks who had no use for 1970s fads. I think you have something there on how these appealed to former Rambler buyers.
These cars still had vent windows — ahh! Vent windows would seriously be a deciding factor for an everyday-driver purchase.
My wife & I took an hour-long A/C-less trip in our beat-up ’86 C20 to pick up a room full of crap I won at an estate auction this last weekend. The trip was actually comfortable thanks to the ram-air provided by the vent windows.
We live “out” in the country so your results may vary.
In 1970, the GM compacts, along with some Japanese models, still had vent windows. The new-for-1970 Maverick and Hornet did not.
You’re right about the vents, though…at the time they were sometimes appropriately called “wind wings” – they limited noise and buffeting with the windows down; and gave positive ventilation with them up. I had a Super Beetle, no a/c, no roll-down rear windows…but with the door windows down and the passenger vent window cranked around to scoop air, it was entirely drivable.
Some have suggested it was an intentional move to promote air conditioning. I never bought into that…but now I wonder.
Think GM “Astro-Ventilation”…in their ads with a pretty lady smiling: “…who needs vent-panes?”
I sure do…still.
GM “compacts”, i.e. Nova, dropped them with the 1973 models, along with their collective sanity – but that’s another story!
(fixed rear glass…fixed rear glass…fixed re…………………………………………..
Lack of vent windows and cowl vents are two of my pet peeves with newer vehicles. These started to disappear when auto manufacturers started to adopt “flow-through ventilation” HVAC systems. To get decent airflow inside the cabin of a modern vehicle you need to have the fan in the heater box running all the time.
My parents never used them back in the day, so I never saw their significance. I’d open them while riding and they were noisy, folks would say “close it”. Only time I saw good use was to remove cigarette smoke, but can do same cracking open the window.
So to me, they are dated ‘old time’ features, like running boards and huge round headlights. But. then again I was 10 when they started disappearing.
Good for cigarette…or joint or blunt…smoke, yes.
But with the windows open, it limited noise and buffeting. With the windows up, it did create some roar; but it also – with cowl vents – created a tremendous air movement, without horrific drafts.
And when there is no heater control valve to shut off the hot water (replaced by heat regulated by a blend door) the fan in the heater box blows hot air at you once the car has warmed up. The “vent” setting in a modern car is worse than useless. I could live without the vent windows (although I would prefer not to) but the lack of a heater control valve and/or seperately ducted fresh air vents make air conditioning absolutely mandatory.
I had hope for vent windows back in the 1980s when Ford was putting them (optionally) in Fox LTDs and in CVs, but the beancounters won out again and they went away for good. I think that they disappeared from pickups by the mid 90s.
My 89 F350 still has them. It’s not something really pay attention to, but until I can get the AC fixed there are days I’m damned glad they’re there.
I can’t believe no one’s mentioned “2-40” air conditioning, the kind my dad had in his truck.
“What’s 2-40 air conditioning, Dad?”
“Two windows open, at 40 miles an hour.”
🙂
In the ’60s, we called it Polish Air Conditioning. Don’t know if the term was widely used or not.
In California, it was “4-65”.
In the 2000’s in the hills of CT we called it WDDF Climate Control… I guess some things never change!
WDDF= “Windows down, Drive fast”
Not only did that Valiant have vent windows, but also the little doors under the dash for fresh air. Real fresh air vents are one of the things I miss most in modern cars.
My avatar Courier had the under dash doors operated by pulling a lever; the ’61 Pontiacs we had had the little underdash vents too. Made things pleasant indeed, even with the occasional trips to Sacramento or Merced in summer (100 + Central Valley temps).
The last family car we owned with vent windows was our 1967 Chevy Bel Air 2-door sedan. It also had cowl vents and rear windows that rolled down (not quite all the way). I agree that you could get a lot of fresh air flowing through the car, which did not have A/C.
I had a couple of first-generation Rabbits with fixed vent windows, but opening vents were available on the high trim lines.
My 1980 Volvo 240 2-door was the last car I owned with a cowl vent (driver side only), heater control valve, and flip-open rear windows. It was possible to drive without using the A/C on my mostly highway commute and have a nice breeze blowing through the car.
My most recent car to qualify was my 68 Newport sedan which was my daily driver in the mid 1990s. The working factory a/c was a bonus. The newest to qualify was my 71 Scamp, which I owned through most of college and law school in the first half of the 80s. I miss both of them.
My second VW Rabbit had the opening vent windows. My 1984 GMC van had them too. Obviously my Chryslers have the vent windows. They are really neat because they have actual window cranks to open them instead of flip-levers on the vent window frame. My Chryslers also have cowl vents with pull-handles under the dash to open them.
One thing I like about the vent windows is that you can open them while the main window is down, and it changes the air flow around the car so you don’t get a hurricane of air blowing in at you while you’re driving.
I had a spinster great aunt in North Carolina who mirrors this story very closely. Hers was blue.
I would visit rural North Carolina for 3 months during school break and My grandfather and I (13-14 years old) would take care of the old family home and farm. His 2 sisters/my great aunts? lived there.
One had the Vaiant that was constantly “stoved up” and needed the “grinned devilishly and shoved his foot to the firewall treatment”. The other aunt had a Olds 88. She was never, ever afraid to stick her foot in that cars ass. My grandmother hated to let me ride with Olds aunt as she knew that aunt was hell on wheels.
Those ladies loved me as their own and I loved them both as well. Very good memories.
Did the aunt with the 88 run ‘shine? It was rural North Carolilna after all.
‘never, ever afraid to stick her foot in that car’s ass’.
brillant image!
My Granny would put her foot in her 413 ’64 Dodge Custom 880, her ’66 383 four pot Monaco and especially her 440 Police Special twin-snorkel dual exhaust ’69 New Yorker. She would tell the full service gas attendant (at a Missouri Skelly, Sunoco or Conoco Station) “fill her up with go-go juice!’ (100 octane, of course!)
This procedure of flogging the engine to remove carbon deposits is sometimes referred to as an “Italian tune-up”.
After I bought my ’66 Chrysler 2-door hardtop, I was able to track down the original owner, who had owned it till 1988. It had been his wife’s car, and she only drove it around town. About once a month, he would take it out on the highway and give it a good hard run to blow the carbon out of the 383. If it hadn’t been for complete neglect of the mechanicals by the successive owners until I bought the car, it may have still had its original engine today.
I could just be imagining things, but it often seems like my Chryslers idle smoother for awhile after I take them out for a hard run, and my pickup truck (Cummins) seems to have better throttle response.
The TDI diesel engine used in VW products in the late 1990s-early 2000s (ALH engine code) has a nasty habit of coking up the variable vane turbo actuator if you don’t occasionally give it a good full-throttle-to-redline goosing every so often. I’m happy to comply!
The technique that Randy used to tune up Edna’s car was what we used to call an “Italian Tuneup”–nail it in second, take it up to redline, slow down, and do it again, and again, and again. The tuneup was done when the engine ran smoothly. Sometimes it was necessary to reset the points after such a session. Randy probably mixed in the racing fuel to prevent pre-ignition from the glowing carbon deposits in the combustion chambers which would eventually disperse. I used to perform this process on my wife’s grandfather’s 1970 Chevelle 350. Now that we no longer have leaded gas, carbon buildup seems to be a thing of the past. The new Subaru BRZ/Scion FR-S comes from the factory with a 12.5:1 compression ratio. In the ’60s and ’70s this was racing stuff. With the engine management systems of today and knock sensors, you don’t hear ping any more.
> Now that we no longer have leaded gas, carbon buildup seems to be a thing of the past.
Electronic fuel injection with more precise fuel metering control means that modern engines don’t run fuel-rich, so there is very little carbon build-up. The other problem was with the octane improvers that replaced lead after the passing of leaded gas.
I forget whether it was MMT or MTBE, but at least one of these also coated the inside of the cylinder head and piston top. I believe it was MMT, because there was quite a bit of debate as to whether MMT fouled-up engine emissions control systems.
Unlike the coating of lead that accumulated in the combustion chamber, the replacement octane improver would not flake off when it reached a certain thickness. Thus, the CR of engines would increase as they got older, leading to pinging. Keep a car long enough and you had to pull the cylinder head(s) to scrape the cylinders. Presumably the switch to ethanol and other octane improvers has eliminated this problem.
Ethanol – for car engines, yes – an improvement somewhat; for boat and other gasoline engines – definitely not. Aloha Gas Stations sell what they call “Unleaded Classic” – it is 89 Octane non-ethanol added gasoline. Occasionally, I run it in my four-cylinder Ranger pickup. Seems to have more pickup in the pickup. The Aloha stations that sell this unleaded classic usually do so at strategic stations where people are towing their boats (near marinas/launching areas, i.e. Farrington Highway in Waianae, Oahu . . . )
Ethanol does nasty things to rubber and plastic parts not engineered to handle alcohol. Most outboards last for years and many are old, a recipe for disaster if run on an alcohol/gasoline blend. The reason your Ranger runs better on classic is because classic has no ethanol which has about half the BTU value of gasoline. So why did they run alcohol for so many years at Indy? Gasoline in the ’20s, and until after WWII, was garbage. So racers discovered that alcohol was the way to go, especially if it were mixed with other power-adders. Essentially unlimited octane. The only question engine builders asked racers in the ’20s was “how much horsepower do you want to pay for?” Although you wouldn’t burn pistons on alky, the rest of the reciprocating engine parts had to be upgraded to handle the added loads imposed by increased compression ratios.
The new Mazda SkyActiv engine has 13:1 compression
Mindblowing!
I fail to see your point. Your new Mazda engine was designed to run at 13:1 CR. Many engines are not, especially older ones.
Great story but the names are wrong. Edna and Gerald lived in my home town. I spotted Edna in your first story but didn’t know you knew Gerald too. I know you changed the names to protect Randy (who was actually named Lee).
Truth is we all had an Edna, a Gerald, and most of us were Randy with our driving when we were young. I think that is why your stories get such good response and are so enjoyable to read.
If you painted, these would be Norman Rockwell type pictures. Looking forward to your next one.
Somehow, I can’t see ol’ Norman illustrating a foot in a car’s – er – (rump)! It would have to “edited for TV”!
( I used to abhor that phrase…)
My old shop teacher, who used to own a repair shop of his own, told us stories of little old ladies with big 400s in their cars who’d come in and complain of it “not running right”.
The mechanics were paid well to go bag the car for a while and come back to charge the customer.
We did that a lot, especially with German cars; fill with Chevron 94, add Chevron Techron and wail the tar out of it. This, of course, after swapping out the plugs ignition wires and air filter (and points on really old stuff). Hi tension leads are the most neglected wear item any car has. They should be replaced at least every five years.
On anything built in the last 20 years, it doesn’t matter much since the fuels are much better now.
@Hi tension leads are the most neglected wear item any car has. They should be replaced at least every five years.
Funny you mention it. I just got done “supervising” the replacement of factory-installed plugs and wires in a certain 53K 1989 Grand Marquis that resides in my driveway for the summer. It runs SOOOOOO much better now.
I hope you told him to replace them one at a time!
I remember a not so smart friend of mine taking all eight wires off at once and then having a heck of a time getting the new ones on right!
I did just that in high school auto shop on my 1961 Pontiac (389) . . . good thing we found a crusty old, oil-impregnated tune up card that had the distributor layout . . .
I put an HEI distributor in a ’67 Olds 425 engine & was very careful about lining up the rotor correctly & getting the 18436572 firing order right. My little genious moment was smushed after over an hour of head scratching & intermittent firing…. those wacky Olds distributors rotate COUNTERclockwise *facepalm*
I wish there was a way to tell when the plug wires were bad (without replacing them & noting any drivability improvements) since good-looking wires can still be “bad”. I usually rob plug wire sets off cars at the scrapyard when they look like they’ve been replaced recently.
Back in the day a standard part of the tune up was to Ohm all the leads to make sure they were still in spec. Nowadays the standard is replace them whether they need it or not. Modern quality plug wires last for quite awhile. Ford when they still had plug wires printed the date of mfg on them. Just yesterday I took an 81 T-bird to scrap that a customer had given my a decade or so ago. I hadn’t fired it up in years in fact it probably had a total of an hour run time in the last ~15 years. I put some fresh gas in it and it fired up and after 10 minutes of running it was running beautifully. It’s spark plug wires, cap and rotor were factory issue, but Ford did use caps with brass terminals instead of aluminum. It was just last year that I pulled the original wires off of my MIL’s 94 Ranger, no change in how it ran afterwards either.
So did you save the engine or just crank it to see if it would still run? No real reason: just curious. I’m surprised how many vehicles in the scrapyard actually run when I apply an external fuel source! It’s painful to walk away from so many healthy engines.
It and it’s perfectly functioning, at least when it was parked, AOD were saved. Not sure what I’ll do with them but I couldn’t let them go to China.
I was hoping you’d say that. (Thanks!)
The trick I used to use on my ’78 Rabbit was to start the engine up on a dark, humid summer night and look for corona, blue glow. If it wasn’t humid enough I would spray the ignition wires with a plant mister. The coil wire in those Rabbits was about 30″ (760 mm) long and was prone to rubbing on the braided stainless fuel lines. I spent a small fortune on Moroso wire separators and tie wraps to minimize ignition problems but plug wire changeout was routine maintenance.
Everybody, and I mean everybody, has a Valiant story. I have a couple myself but I won’t bother boring you guys with them.
Ahhh, the “tune-up,” how I DO NOT miss thee….
I remember the concept of one guy doing a “good tune up” compared to another guy. Have spent a good part of my life in a garage, the reason is simple; some grease monkeys still think they know better the engineers at the car company. I don’t know how many times we had to do fixes on such bodge jobs.
We had a standing policy in our shop: All cars were tuned to factory spec. If a car came back running like crap after a tune-up, it went to another guy and he found out what the first guy had done. If the car was not at spec, the mechanic was fired, pure and simple. In fact, we did all our come backs that way so we could find out what was happening. Once we started that policy, come-backs went down like 80% since the guys didn’t like to be embarrassed.
And for the “Mexican tune-up.” Fuels forty years ago just weren’t as good and this led to the aforementioned carbon issues. Now as then, it is vital to buy the best quality fuel you can find. When I travel in the USA I still see little gas stations, some even selling gas with MTBE in it. Avoid at all costs; go to a big brand like Chevron, Shell or Exxon. You’ll be happy you did.
MTBE has not been a legal additive in fuel in the US in over a decade.
As far as tuning a car to “factory” specs with many cars from the 70’s you could often improve the performance and fuel economy significantly by adjusting the timing to other than factory specs.
Problem was, Eric, that as a busy shop, we needed some baseline to work from. Not all mechanics have the same skill level. We often had problems when mechanics, especially young ones, set up cars so far from stock they barely ran, or they ran when the car was cold, or stalled when hot and a myriad of things.
The best solution for a busy shop was to set ’em to spec. That way of the car came back running roughly we had something to tell the customer and we could find the source of the problem.
Yes but for many of those 70’s cars they barely ran or ran very poorly or roughly when tuned to “factory” specs. Of course not having a base of mechanics who had the experience to know which cars needed what to run their best could be an issue. SOP at the first shop I worked at was to do a test drive after the tune up was done and then re-adjust as necessary to make certain the vehicle performed the best it could. Some times that was putting the timing closer to spec or enriching the idle to eliminate an off idle bog.
I hear you but let me chime in, it costs LOADS to have a tech do two complete road tests. Somebody has to pay for it and you can be sure it ain’t gonna be the shop. We were in the money makin’ business so time spent was time billed. That is how we kept 15 guys working (plus office staff) working for a quarter century.
Usually there was not a need for two complete road tests and due to the way that place was set up you pretty much had to at least take it around the block to get from the shop to the parking area so going another couple of blocks did not add that much time. Also we were not a shop that advertised tune up specials and the like, we charged more than the “tune up” focused shops and people were happy to pay it. In fact it was not uncommon to get vehicles from the places advertising those cheap tune up specials, to make them run right. Of course many of the shops of that type just replaced parts and never did adjust the timing and carb. In all my time there I only had 1 comeback on a tune up and that was due to a bad spark plug. I caught hell from the owner when it came back, since it was the pastor of his church, but all was absolved when I found the cause of the miss and handed the owner the spark plug that had managed to weld its gap closed.
Great story, Eric!
The factory timing specs for a ’78 Rabbit was 4 degrees after top dead center, a real snooze fest. Plus the distributor didn’t reach full advance until 5200 rpm (5200 rpm in metric). So I took a junk distributor that I got for free to the top NASCAR distributor guy in Springfield, VA and had him rebuild the thing. Then I bought a SnapOn advance timing light so I could accurately time the thing (it only had a mark on the flywheel for 4 degrees ATDC.
The distributor came back from the shop set at total advance at 3200 rpm. By trial-and-error I arrived at 22 deg static advance for a total of 42. Happy, happy, happy! The car was a little bit faster but throttle response was semi-orgasmic. In the fall I would dial back to about 14 static so the thing would start on cold mornings.
I enjoyed hot rodding my Rab but I don’t miss the constant maintenance that I required. I guess that signals the fact that I’m an old fart. Long live my killer Subaru!
I recall a story of this Italian TuneUp from a guy that was a mechanic at the old Cooper-Brown Oldsmobile in Coral Gables, he had just started as a mechanics assistant at the dealership in the late 60’s and one of the older mechanics took on a ride in an old lady’s Delta 88 and he did the same thing, drop into low and push the pedal down hard enough to bend the floorboard, he says he saw more black smoke come out of the back of that 88 than he had ever seen. He said this was a common even since there were plenty of old Olds owning ladies that would service their cars at the dealership.
The shop I used to gopher at got a super-nice 50K mile-ish ’85 or ’86 FWD Electra for some A/C work. I remember the car being elderly-lady owned & immaculate. While the car was idling in the shop the 3.8 engine started knocking out of nowhere.
The mechanic got the owner of the shop to listen to it & while we were all scratching our heads, the owner stated quietly, “oh, it’s okay, I’ll be right back”. He returned with a large cup of water & poured its contents slowly into some intake orifice while opening the throttle to around 2K rpm or so. I thought the man had lost his mind!
However, in about 20 seconds, the knocking completely subsided which amazed all of us. The coolest part about it was the owner’s typical response, a smile & hunble, “it was just carbon” as he walked back into the alternator rebuilding area where he usually worked.
Unrelated:
I can’t stand any form of beige, yellow, or brown but for some strange reason the color looks fantastic on this car. I really think the green interior is a nice combo against the beige. Brown or black interior would look infinitely worse in my opinion.
You ever had a head gasket blow between a cylinder and the water jacket, causing a coolant leak through the combustion chamber and out the exhaust pipe? You pull the head and immediately know which cylinder the coolant was leaking into because that one is spotless. Same idea.
I had a ’53 Chrysler New Yorker sedan with that problem. I only owned it for a couple of months and drove it on my work commute, which was short at the time. Just put water in it every morning and it was fine. Come to think of it, that car was two-tone brown and tan with a green interior.
@Junqueboi:
I did that myself once while drunk and working on my 1973 Pinto. Someone suggested it to me; and when hammered it seemed to make sense.
I had a dash-mounted vacuum gauge; not flush, but surface mounted with the vacuum hose running under the dash. So I took a saucepan of water and unplugged the hose and dropped it in the pan.
Sucked it right up; set up a steam plume like a Stanley. And, by God and by gum…damned if it didn’t start idling beautifully, and always did for the next three years until I sold it.
I wouldn’t dare do it now; but at the time…not only was I in my cups, but I didn’t have much to lose. The car was a $700 runner….
When I was in the (Fort Knox) Ireland Army Hospital in 1972, I saw an old movie with Walter Mattau, where his mechanic tells him the problem with his Ferrari was “carbon on the valves”. A great movie, especially when young candy stripers were serving ice cream to us sick GI’s.
Unfortunately, hospital visits today are not as pleasant.
Its a 275GTB too, a big dollar car today.
Completely off-topic, but my wife was born at that hospital! My father-in-law was career enlisted and Fort Knox was his last post before he retired.
The movie is called “A New Leaf” from 1971, Matthau plays a Ferrari driving Manhattan playboy, which seems so weird to me considering I always imagined him as Oscar from The Odd Couple.
I like these alternate universe Valiants ours wore different front sheet metal and indicators. 1970 VF Valiants was the last year the 225 was installed rare cars now but they were bullet proof old heaps that just kept on keeping on.
That is one especially CLEAN Valiant, especially in the Show-Me-State. I’ve shared in this forum my step-mother’s “sleeper” 318 ’72 Scamp. Valiants in all forms were no-nonsense cars, including a good number of the ’74-’76 Valiant Broughams I saw in the day. There are quite a few rugged examples here in the Aloha State plodding along; most in the 50th state were slant sixes/Torqueflites and most are suprisingly well preserved. A buddy of mine who grew up on the big island told me the secret to long body life (for Mopars especially) was to “double-Ziebart” the panels and apply a good thick coat of undercoating. This must be true as most of these old Valiants and Darts look pretty good. On Oahu there are also about a dozen clean mid sixties Satellite/Belvedres/Coronets. Mopars were (and are once again) popular rides in the islands (full size Rams, Chrysler 300’s and Chargers – not counting the myriad of Mopar rental cars abounding).
Nice car & story. Hopefully someone will fix that bit of rust sooner rather than later, and keep the car as-is.
Love the stories of the Italian tune-up. My father had a Ford Cortina in the 60’s with a hot motor from Harry Firth (who built the GT500 for Ford), it would do 110mph which compares to a Lotus Cortina. When he traded it in, a little old lady bought the car and it became the regular recipient of said tune-ups until it chewed out the high-lift cam…
Regarding fresh-air vents being much less effective now, I think it is simply due to the more aerodynamic shape of modern cars – there is much less pressure at the base of the windshield where the plenum intake is, compared to cars with more upright windshields.
It is interesting to see all you guys talking about tune-ups and the like. It wasn’t that long ago that cars were wrenched on constantly and the two bay local garage was like an institution but those days are, fortunately, gone. Pretty every car made in the last fifteen (with many exceptions, like 99% of GM cars) is a really low maintenance, reliable car.
I just got a 1998 Camry for my friend’s wife, one owner with 135,000 km for $3200. The car is in perfect condition and drives like new. Real quality and that car is fourteen, going on fifteen years old. Seventies stuff would never last that long.
I DO NOT miss wrenching on cars. I like two oil changes a year.
I would be perfectly happy to have that car in my driveway. Nice preservation job.
Growing up we had a neighbor that lived two houses down from us that had a blue 1971 Plymouth Valiant 4-dr. Every morning – and I mean EVERY MORNING – you could hear him start that thing up…..that Plymouth starter had a certain sound….and he would REV and REV and REV…my Mom would even say – “Mr. Murray is leaving!” Then he would drive down the road going about 2 MPH…..I don’t think that car ever hit 30 MPH! EVER! I only rode in it a few times whenever his grandson would visit….I remember thinking how plain it was…..but it suited him just fine for a good 15+ years until he died.
Ah, teachers and their cars!
Thanks for taking pictures of my car and enjoying it as much as we do. A friend saw it and sent me the website. Sorry to disillusion you, but the car has more miles on it than Edna’s car. It has at least 196,000 miles. We’re not sure if it’s on the 2nd or 3rd time around. It replaced a ’72 Valiant we drove for 30 years that had 371,000 miles on it. The drive train was good but the body rusted out. Maybe we ought to try the Edna Concoction to keep this one running longer. It’s really a unique model because it has a ’70 front end and a ’72 back end. Evidentally it had been wrecked before we bought it and that’s the way it was fixed.
Laugh if you want, but the German teacher spinster in my town had a 71 Valiant 225 4 door. She walked to work. (?!?!?!??!) When the frame rusted through she sold it to me for a block of Wisconsin cheese and one mowing of her parent’s lawn. Unfortunately, this is all true.
Nice looking car. I’ve always liked the 1970-72 Plymouth Valiant. Particularly if it’s original, unrestored, never been wrecked or neglected and it’s driveable.
This particular four-door body style always was appealing to me, with its appearance of compact formality. It first appeared in 1967 and ran until 1973. For 1974-1976 the Valiant four-door was built on the Dodge Dart body which sat on a longer wheelbase, and looked bulkier, a little awkward…kind of like a girl wearing a skirt that is a bit too long and dowdy, compared to one which is just right.
Same here.
I’m old enough to remember these being new back in the day, though for 1970, I was 4. But the later Valiant/Darts, I DO recall quite well however. Mom used to have an Avon lady come visit, about once a month, and around 1975, or so, bought a dark green one, I forget if the Valiant, or Dart, but it had the color keyed wheels of the brougham variant of these cars. I think she retired about 2 years later, this being around 1976.
Mom had a ’72 Gold Duster from ’76-78, then traded it with my middle sister for her bright yellow ’73 142 Volvo 2 door. It would soon be replaced by a used ’76 Chevy Vega Kamback wagon that we would keep until 1983.
However, we had a ’64 Dodge 330 wagon with the 225 slant six, and the torqueflite, and kept it from new until late summer of ’77 when we sold it, rusted and all, but still able to move under its own power, barely though at something like 140K+ miles on it. It was on its second tranny, but original, unrebuilt motor.
I remember seeing plenty of two door versions of the Plymouth Valiant, the Scamp. At the time I found it more attractive than the Dodge Dart of the same vintage.
Awesom! I know this very car from growing up in J.C. Makes me miss the old ’68 Dart my Brother had that eventually wound up on the hill at my Dad’s house. Rotted out gas tank I think was the cause to park it. I know it had a slant-6 and a 3 speed, not sure on the engine size though. My Dad sold it a few years ago and hopefully it lives on!
The Plymouth Valiant has always seemed to be lurking somewhere in my past; my father, then a car salesman @ Dick Genthe Chrysler Plymouth in, I think Allen Park, a Detroit suburb, came home with a brand new V-200 in September, 1959. I was born in December, 1954, so not quite five (<5) years old yet, but I was already a car-guy (my Mother ALWAYS told people that I could say Desoto before I could say daddy!). Nobody on our block, in the northwest corner of Detroit, had ever seen a "compact car" before, so there was lots of interest in this baby-blue/blue 4-door little sedan! The little girl next door, 1-1/2 years younger than me started crying to her Mother, thinking they had bought the car for me, and she wanted one too!
At some point, my dad left the car business for a while, and while working for the Tennessee Fabricating Co. (the same ornamental iron-works fabricator that did Elvis' Graceland driveway gates) as a traveling salesman, he pulled up in front of a hotel in Kokomo, Indiana to get a room for the night. As he was stepping out of the car, an estimated at eighty pounds (80#) icicle had broken loose from the building's gutter and came down on him and the roof of the car. A motorcycle cop was waiting for the light to change at the opposite corner of the same intersection, and was able to immediately radio in and get the fire department's Rescue Squad dispatched to the scene. My father sustained a broken right ankle (as he was still getting out of the car upon impact) a broken back and it took sixty (60) stitches to close up the gash in the back of his head. I think he spent something like 2-3 weeks in the hospital, visited at least once by the motorcycle cop that stated he didn't think he'd ever get to talk to him again! My Mom immediately went to stay with my dad in the hospital, leaving my sixteen (16) and twenty-one (21) year-old brothers to look after me (the oldest brother was already married, so we did have some form of adult supervision__and were fed__by his wife). My two (2) uncles that lived in Elkhart, Indiana brought my Mother and father home on New Year's Eve, 1961. My father was laid up for several months to heal, but eventually went on to live until he was a week shy of ninety-four (<94) years old.
The 1960 Valiant was repaired, grafting the sheetmetal roof from the then new 1962 models, and once repainted, it looked like a new car again…
… that is until the day or so before Thanksgiving in 1962, when he was rear-ended as he slowed down for a hairpin turn in, you guessed it, Indiana! The way the rear sheetmetal was shaped, the impact drove the trunklid up and forward, covering the bottom two-thirds (2/3rds) of the rear window__without breaking the glass!
The V-200 was fixed and painted again, to await another fender-bender when someone ran a stopsign and punched it square on the front axle! Fixed and painted again, like rinse and repeat!
That Valiant was my next older brother's first car, and we all know what an abusive relationship that can be! At 130,000 miles, it was sold to the lady across the street, Mrs. Pinkstaff, or as she was known to all the neighbors, "Toots". That 1960 Valiant served as the first car for both of her kids too, Dave & Diane, at at last word, had accumulated 230,000 miles. My father was always proud to claim that the valve-cover had never been off (uhm, didn't those have solid lifters, requiring adjustment…?).
When my folks retired and moved to Florida in the late 70s, my dad dad bought what he expected to be his "last car" a 1978 Valiant! This one had the highest trim level, a/c but was still the venerable slant six. He would go on to own four (4) more vehicles after that one, but at somewhere around 100,000 miles, it was passed down to become my niece's first car.
I figured that would be about the end of Valiants in my life, but it was not to be; sometime around 1989, I inherited a Plain-Jane 1970 white/green minimal interior trim__rubber floormats__four-door Valiant sedan through my now X-wife's family. It was purchased new by her grandfather, driven rarely, likely little more than to church and the grocery store once a week, then after their deaths, it went to one of my wife's older "aunt maid" sisters. once it started giving problems, she parked it and bought a Bronco II (!) from her younger brother (who always kept his vehicles immaculate).
First thing I did with my new to me '70 Valiant was replace the cracked exhaust manifold, broken stud and any other minor infractions before using it for work. I replaced the manifold again, this time having the mounting flanges resurfaced first. When that manifold cracked too, always at the long branch to the #1 cylinder, I sourced a set of six into two steel tube headers! They lasted a little longer, but eventually cracked; these I could repair/reweld myself, but it was to be a losing battle, and I eventually accepted defeat and surrendered.
I sold the last known Valiant to be anywhere in our immediate family around 1996, to a local rural Louisiana guy who planned to fix it up and give it to his daughter for her first car. I never did see it again, but honestly hope that he had better luck__or an unending supply of cast manifolds__than I did.
I have more stories about all three (3) of those Valiants, but really, hasn't this one been long enough…?
The picture is of the 1970 Valiant I had in the mid-90s. If only the car could've been as well behaved as Toby was; best damn dog I ever had!
This has always been my favourite version of the Plymouth Valiant, the 1970-72 model years. I’d buy one if I could find one in decent condition, and with every option available (except the V8 engine). I like the 3.7 litre slant 6 engine.