Museum Classic: Renault 10 With Serial Hybrid Conversion

My last posts here at Curbside Classic developed a theme of alternative-powered vehicles. Thus far we’ve progressed through a diesel swap straight to a homemade solar array; the next step is naturally an even more spectacularly unlikely powertrain to DIY: a gasoline-electric serial hybrid!

This stunning example of alternative engineering comes to us from the simply superb Miracle of America Museum in Polson, Montana. Simply study the background of the lead image if you would like to do a spit take. The 1-of-348 US spec Austin A90 Atlantic on the semi trailer in the background is just the tip of the iceberg for staggeringly rare motorized machinery. It manages to be one of the single most consistently surprising places I’ve ever been despite being, ostensibly, a collection of interesting junk in a field and some ramshackle sheds. This visit report from a prior CCer barely scratches the surface.

With that preamble out of the way, what are we looking at here? At first glance, it’s merely another 1965-1967 pre-facelift Renault 10 rotting in an overgrown corner. This Beetle-fighting import was briefly a big seller before the shaky reputation of Renault in the US caught up to it. Particularly in rust-prone environments, these cars disappeared faster than Daewoos did in the 2000s. Even finding one abandoned in a field is becoming challenging nowadays. Despite the disposable nature of the R10 in America, someone thought to bestow upon this specific car a very special gift.

There are very few outward signs of the madness that lurks within this vehicle. The only truly obvious change to the car since it left the factory are the three large holes that have been drilled in the front valence. As these cars were famously late to the rear-engined party, they can’t be air intakes, can they?

The next clue lies inside the surprisingly intact dashboard. A slew of aftermarket gauges have been haphazardly installed in assorted holes in the dashboard. What could they possibly be for?

Being curious about those rogue air holes, I opened the reverse hinged hood to investigate. Inside, I was met with a stunning sight. A stationary generator was expertly grafted into the frunk driving a series of belts. The chain of movement appears to terminate into some kind of large electric generator.

I was speechless. Why would someone install an auxiliary engine in an affordable compact’s luggage compartment? The quality of the work on display is genuinely stunning. Everything is held securely in place with well fabricated brackets. Even the wiring isn’t a total rat’s nest.

Moving around back to the car’s original engine location, the reason for the generator becomes more obvious. Nested below some nondescript boxes, a massive electric motor is mated to the original transmission. Zooming in on the motor’s plaque, I run out of pixels just after making out the words “elevator.” Based on some Google image comparisons, I believe this electric motor originally called a portable tow-behind grain conveyer home. The motor is too small for a building’s elevator but just about the right size for a farming implement.

The quality of engineering on display here suggests that this car was converted early in life. Perhaps it was an engineering test mule for a failed serial hybrid conversion startup. Given there is either no or little onboard battery capacity, it’s inconceivable that the setup was chosen purely for environmental reasons. The stationary gasoline generator would have produced quite a racket and likely resulted in less overall range. Perhaps it was a slightly more efficient setup than the original Renault powertrain? The 10 was already one of the most economical cars available but certainly not the lightest or most aerodynamic, making a hypermiling intention less likely. Just what was the motivation behind this conversion?

Naturally, comparisons will be made to the ambitious Henney Kilowatt project. That electric Renault was Dauphine-based, with the venture expiring long before our featured R10 left the assembly line. I suppose we can’t rule out this wacky serial-hybrid being a side project of an executive from that company. Since our car is ultimately powered by gasoline with electricity merely being a middleman, I think it is unlikely there is a connection.

What do we think? Is it an unusually successful side project of a farmer with a broken grain elevator? A big budget engineering exercise of a company looking to diversify? We may never know.

 

Related CC reading:

Curbside Classic: Renault R10 – When Being A Better Volkswagen Isn’t Good Enough

Vintage Ad: Henney Kilowatt – The First Post-War Production EV