Vintage Car Life Review: 1967 Chevrolet Impala SS 427 – “A Family Car For A Swinging Family”

 

In another CC post a while back, I charted the decline of the stripped-down full-size Chevrolet throughout the 1960s, as more and more buyers ordered V-8 engines and convenience features that made these cars mid-price luxury sedans rather than low-buck basic transportation. In this May 1967 road test of a 427 Impala, the editors of Car Life confronted that trend and asked the big question: “Is a Chevrolet worth $5000?”

The editors began:

NOT SO MANY years ago a motorist shopping for one of the “low-priced three” knew that no matter which make and model he elected to buy, he would drive home a car instantly recognizable as basic, no-frills transportation. His neighbors were aware that here was a man who was putting practicality ahead of ostentation. that this was a man who demanded—and got—a means of transport at minimum cost. If his thinking was reasonably advanced he probably included a heater, and if he was especially daring, he may have ordered a true luxury accessory—a radio. For better or worse, that era is gone, and the fact that it’s not coming back soon was brought forcefully home while testing the Impala SS 427.

In 1967, you could still order a modestly priced full-size Chevrolet: The cheapest two-door, six-cylinder Biscayne started at $2,442, and you could have a reasonably nice Bel Air sedan with a V-8 and a few extras for less than $3,000 out the door. The Car Life test car, a V-8 Impala Super Sport two-door Sport Coupe, had a starting price of $3,003, but adding the biggest available engine, automatic transmission, air conditioning, power steering and brakes, a really fancy stereo sound system, and a few other niceties brought the tally to a sticker-shock-inducing $4,903.

 

This was a lot of money in 1967. Adjusted for inflation, it’s almost $47,000 in 2025 dollars, but MeasuringWorth estimates its “relative value” (in proportion to the goods and services a typical household would buy) at about $52,480. In 1967, it would have put you into a decently equipped Pontiac Bonneville or Oldsmobile Delta Eighty-Eight. As CL noted, the test car wasn’t even fully loaded: It had air conditioning, but not Comfortron automatic climate control (an extra $79); power brakes but not the optional front discs (an additional $79); and no power seat ($69.55 to $105.35) or power windows ($100.10). Also, customers willing to spend this much money on a full-size Chevrolet might be more apt to order a Caprice, whose two-door Custom Coupe started at $75 more than an Impala SS.

(Incidentally, according to Automotive Industries, Chevrolet buyers were still reticent about power windows and power seats: In 1967, only 11.6 percent of full-size Chevrolets had power windows and just 1.7 percent had power seats.)

The editors were quick to note:

CAR LIFE liked the Impala. Ride was good, handling fair to good, braking barely passable. and the acceleration/ speed exciting. Turn on the air conditioning, tune in the FM multiplex stereo (or, if out of FM range, push in a tape cartridge and listen to Lorne Greene narrate “Songs of America”), and the sensation is pure luxury—the approximate equivalent of the most expensive automobiles available. Note the qualifying word “approximate”; no production Chevrolet ever will match the richness and fine detailing inherent in cars where base pricing starts $1000 above the Impala’s delivered price.

Younger readers may be puzzled by the Lorne Greene reference. People of my generation are more likely to remember the Canadian actor for his role as the patriarchal Commander Adama on the original Battlestar Galactica, but in the ’60s, he was starring as Ben Cartwright on the NBC Western series Bonanza, which was then the most popular TV show in the U.S. — and, notably, sponsored by Chevrolet. Greene and his costars did various ads and promos for Chevrolet, like this one:

 

Moreover, when you ordered the $128.50 stereo tape system on a new Chevrolet in 1967, it came with an RCA Victor 8-track tape, narrated by Greene (and actually entitled Music of the U.S.A., featuring “more than 30 outstanding examples of American music—grand opera, country and western, pop tunes, marching bands and many others.” (Here’s the track list — an interesting selection, but a tad square for 1967, although I suppose the context demanded a broad brush.)

 

CL‘s test car had the optional Turbo-Jet 427 (6,996 cc) V-8, with gross ratings of 385 hp and 460 lb-ft of torque, mated to the three-speed Turbo Hydra-Matic and a Positraction axle with a 3.07 ratio (the standard ratio with ratio with air conditioning). While you could get the same engine as a stand-alone option (RPO L36) on 1967 full-size Chevrolets, the Car Life car had RPO Z24, which included the big engine, a special domed hood with its brushed-chrome simulated velocity stacks, SS 427 emblems, red-stripe or whitewall tires, 14×6 wheels, and the F40 heavy-duty suspension, for a list price of $403.30. If you could live without the special emblems and the chrome gewgaws on the hood, you could save $10–$15 by forgoing the Z24 package and ordering the engine and other pieces separately.

 

The SS 427 package has become a weird point of near-religious fervor among the Chevrolet faithful, who continue to insist that a real SS 427 was not technically an Impala at all, but rather a completely separate model. This dubious contention seems to be founded on the fact that the RPO Z24 package deleted the normal Impala exterior identification, and that the word “Impala” didn’t appear on this page of the fall 1966 brochure “The ’67 Super Sports by Chevrolet”:

 

To the extent that it matters to anyone other than auction sellers trying to puff up their cars’ Rare Highly Collectible Iconic Muscle Car bona fides, there’s no indication that Chevrolet regarded the Z24 package as a separate model: It’s clearly listed as an RPO, it didn’t get its own model number or VIN code, and the full-size Chevrolet brochure describes it as a “special identification/performance package [that] can be specified on Super Sport models when you order the 427-cu.in. Turbo-Jet V8 with 385 horsepower.” Rare, yes — Pete C. Sessler’s Chevrolet SS Muscle Car Red Book reports that only 2,124 full-size cars had this option in 1967 — but a separate model, no.

 

While I’m swinging bats at hornets’ nests, I can’t help but noting that Car Life was unusually apologetic about their SS 427 test car’s mediocre performance. By most standards, a 0 to 60 mph time of 8.4 seconds was certainly not bad, but it was disappointing given the huge, expensive, very thirsty engine (which sucked down super-premium at a rate of 9.5 mpg). Moreover, the Chevrolet was, with one curious exception, significantly slower than the 1966 Ford Galaxie 7-Litre Car Life had tested a year or so earlier, which they had taken to task for its disappointing acceleration and “dismal performance.” Of the Chevrolet, they said:

While the showroom-stock quarter mile times were reasonably impressive, this is the kind of car in which acceleration could have been improved with minor alterations. For one thing, tires with more bite would have cut elapsed time and improved the speed. The SS 427 package calls for Nylon red stripe tires, but for some reason CL’s test car did not have them. And Superlift or equivalent shock absorbers would have aided in delivery of power to the ground. Indeed, an extra 6–8 mph are available without touching the engine or exhaust system. The optional performance axle ratio, 3.31:1, also would prove an asset.

Given how much trouble they had getting a clean launch even with the mild axle ratio and Positraction, it seems to me that making good use of the 3.31 axle would have required a major upgrade in the tire department. Fatter G70-15 tires would have been a good start, but Sessler says they were ordered on only 1,030 full-size cars in 1967.

 

Here are their comparative acceleration times:

1967 Chevrolet SS 427 vs. 1966 Ford Galaxie 7-Litre Performance

Acceleration	Chevrolet	Ford
0–30 mph	3.6 secs.	3.3 secs.
0–40 mph	5.0 secs.	4.7 secs.
0–50 mph	6.5 secs.	6.2 secs.
0–60 mph	8.4 secs.	8.0 secs.
0–70 mph	10.7 secs.	10.2 secs.
0–80 mph	13.6 secs.	13.3 secs.
0–90 mph	17.2 secs.	16.8 secs.
0–100 mph	22.3 secs.	21.4 secs.
Passing, 30–70 mph	7.1 secs.	6.9 secs.
Standing ¼ mile	15.75 secs. at 86.5 mph	16.40 secs. at 89.0 mph

 

Looking at these figures, the listed quarter mile ET for the SS 427 immediately stands out as suspicious. The other acceleration times indicate that the Chevrolet was a bit slower than the Ford in every speed range up through 100 mph. Its quarter mile trap speed was also a significant 2.5 mph slower, indicating an inferior power-to-weight ratio. Yet, the figures claim the SS427 was 0.65 seconds quicker through the quarter mile lights — a substantial difference, in drag racing terms — which doesn’t make much sense.

 

A relevant point here is weight. Car Life listed the 1966 7-Litre’s curb weight as 4,118 lb, which sounds about right for a 428 Galaxie hardtop without air conditioning. However, the 3,835 lb curb weight this test lists for the SS 427 is clearly wrong: According to the AMA specifications for the 1967 full-size Chevrolet, the base curb weight of a Impala Super Sport hardtop with a 283 was 3,800 lb. The 427, Turbo Hydra-Matic, air injection, air conditioning, power steering and brakes, and AM/FM radio added 511 lb to that base figure. That means the actual curb weight of the CL test car was at least 4,311 lb, not 3,835 lb, with the stereo tape system and other miscellaneous options probably adding a few more pounds.

 

Also, the text claims that the drivers manually shifted the transmission between 5,200 and 5,500 rpm to stay out of the red zone, but the listed shift points on the spec panel are over 6,000 rpm. If the data panel is accurate, it suggests that Car Life drove the SS 427 test car a lot harder than most owners would have dared, and still got only average times.

 

Brakes were another sore point with the drum-braked CL test car:

IN SPITE OF M. [Ettore] Bugatti’s low opinion of the importance of brakes (“I build cars to go, not to stop”), most people like to stop safely and quickly every time they apply pressure to the brake pedal. On this point the SS 427 is deficient. CL’s standard 80-mph maximum deceleration stops revealed two things: rear wheel lock-up and significant fade. The latter was quite pronounced on the second stop. The option book reveals a $79 cure—front wheel disc brakes, which are part of a package that includes 15-in. wheels. The fact is, normal, low-effort stopping is quite good, so deceptively good that a driver would surely be unaware of the problems revealed instantly in a high-speed panic stop. A lesser option that should prove helpful is sintered-metallic brake linings, priced at $36.90.

Both front discs and metallic linings were extremely rare in 1967: Only 6,351 full-size Chevrolets got front discs (about 0.5 percent of production), while just 1,588 customers ordered metallic linings.

The photo caption on this page reads, “CLEAN OF line, the Impala SS 2-door displays fewer than average bits of chromium trim, with one exception—the dummy induction ports mounted on the hood. Basically, the car performs, but does so in an unobtrusive manner.”

 

Strato-Bucket seats were standard on the Impala Super Sport and optional elsewhere in the line. They earned good marks from the CL testers:

Up front, the Strato-Bucket seats are comfortable—firm and with reasonably good support for back and thighs. There were headrests in the test car, and frankly they appeared more decorative than functional. They are adjustable upward, but their flush position in relation to the seat plane makes them more suitable as whiplash protective devices than as something designed for passenger relaxation. An infinitely adjustable seat recliner would have been a welcome addition that could have made the headrests of genuine value for a passenger, and would have given the driver a welcome change of position.

Their test car also had the U14 special instrumentation package, a fairly rare but very desirable option providing full instrumentation, including a tachometer, for $79.00, and of course they also had the fancy audio system, which included the stereo tape system as well as an AM/FM multiplex stereo radio.

 

Car Life had been disappointed with the stereo tape system in their 1966 7-Litre, which had suffered poor sound quality and clumsy ergonomics, but they found “the equipment in the Impala offered magnificent reproduction and reception,” undoubtedly aided by the Impala’s “exceptionally low” levels of engine, wind, and road noise.

 

While the text says their test car had head rests — a $52.70 option with Strato-Bucket seats in 1967 — you’ll notice that there’s no sign of any headrests in any of the photos where the seats are visible. (Also, it looks like the car in the photos has the optional 15-inch rally wheels rather than the 14-inch wheels described in the text and data panel.)

 

The likeliest explanation is that the car shown in the B&W photos (credited to Paul Hansen Photos), which has Michigan license plates, was not the California car Car Life actually tested, but rather a different car drawn from Chevrolet’s Detroit press pool, with similar but not identical equipment. Sessler indicates that the “Strato-Ease” head rests were extremely rare in 1967, so it wouldn’t be surprising if the photo car didn’t have them. Such discrepancies aren’t uncommon in magazine publishing, but it can be perplexing to realize the text and photos don’t match.

As for the car’s road manners, the editors reported:

Ride was medium-firm, not harshly so, but not feather-soft either. It was, in fact, fairly good, though the tar strips could be felt and, at one point, a back-slapping resonance. known to Detroit engineers as “freeway hop,” was encountered. It seems there are freeways in certain areas which have regularly spaced concrete joints, and at just the right combination of speed and suspension the result is most unpleasant. … Power steering, at four turns of the wheel lock-lo-lock, seemed a bit slow. The impression of nimbleness and agility aren’t created by this car. Rather, it offers a sort of average aim-and-go handling quality, about what is expected from a large Chevrolet with a large V-8 engine.

The editors didn’t comment on interior room or trunk space except to describe the ordeal involved in trying to wrestle the spare tire out of the trunk.

Unlike some full-size Chevrolets tested by other magazines in this period, the CL SS 427 displayed a decent level of quality:

In the main, assembly, paint and trim were good. There weren’t any glaring gaps, the vinyl roof cover appeared well installed, paint was smooth, and things which were supposed to operate, did.

Car Life concluded:

That’s the SS 427—a family car for a swinging family, or possibly a good choice for a traveling swinger without a family. Because Chevrolet’s image of practicality has persisted through several decades, no one will accuse the driver of a Chevrolet 2-door hardtop of extravagence [sic]—unless shown the pricetag. Which returns us to the original question: Is a Chevrolet worth $5000? In this case, on basis of performance and included features, it is. Those who shake their heads in wonder are old enough to remember when the low-cost three really were.

On the whole, the SS 427 didn’t seem terribly convincing as a sporty car. A well-optioned Impala SS looked sporty, with bucket seats and the optional gauge package, but the SS 427 ornamentation was gaudier than the engine could back up, at least in anything like stock form, and the car was too big and too heavy to handle or stop well. Adding front discs, 15-inch wheels, and the optional F41 suspension (which included a rear anti-roll bar) might have helped some, but perhaps not enough.

 

Discounting the 427’s obvious value among modern collectors, I think the smarter choice on these cars was the Turbo-Fire 327, which saved over $220 and a similar number of pounds of curb weight, much of it off the front end. In 1967, you could also order Turbo Hydra-Matic with the 327, which seems like the combination to have. Skipping the SS 427 package and choosing a regular AM/FM radio rather than the fancy stereo tape system would have made for a somewhat less stratospheric price without sacrificing much of the car’s other virtues.

 

Buyers seemed to reach similar conclusions: According to the AMA, Chevrolet built 1,141,833 full-size cars for the 1967 model year; of those, Pete Sessler reported that only 4,337 had the 427 engine, while 340,347 had the Turbo-Fire 327. The 327 wasn’t as fast, but it was a lot more sensible.

Related Reading

Vintage Comparison Test: 1967 Chevrolet Impala SS, Ford Galaxie 500, Plymouth Sport Fury – Sampling 2-door Hardtops From The “Low Priced Three” (by GN)
Curbside Classics: 1967 Chevrolet Impalas – A Study In Off-Color Contrast (by Jim Grey)
Want A 1967 Chevrolet Super Sport Six Cylinder Convertible? Ask For Model #16767, But Hurry, It’s Your Last Chance (by Paul N)
Curbside Classic: 1967 Chevrolet Impala – Buy You A Chevrolet (by Joseph Dennis)
Automotive History: How Common Were Stripped-Down Full-Size Chevrolets In The 1960s? (by me)