Vintage Review: 1963 Chevrolet Biscayne 283 V8 With Three Speed Manual – An Ideal Car For The Traveling Salesman In A Hurry

Who was still buying lowest-trim “stripper” full-size two-door sedans in the ever-more affluent 1960s? There were a few who ordered a Biscayne like this with the 425 hp solid lifter 409 V8 and a four speed stick because it was so light, hence fast. There were some police and highway patrol departments. Undoubtedly some very thrifty folks who weren’t going to downsize into a compact. But the most stereotypical one was the traveling salesman, whose employer supplied him with just the basics: a low-end two door sedan with a big trunk.

Now if his employer wanted him to minimize time spent driving, they would have ordered a Chevy Biscayne like this one with the new perkier-for-’63 283 V8 instead of the six. It scooted right along. The return on investment of the additional $107 was surely well worth it, even if it just improved the salesman’s mood and self-confidence.

After only six years, the 283 (4.7 L) V8 was already referred to as “that old standby”. But for 1963, the basic two-barrel version was given a bit of a refreshing, in the form of heads from the base 327 with bigger ports as well as a perkier camshaft. The result was a genuine 15 hp bump, from 170 gross/135 net hp to 195 gross/150 net hp and a 10 lb.ft. bump in maximum torque. The compression ratio also went up from 8.5:1 to 9.25:1, although it still ran fine on regular gas.

This 195 hp version would be built by the millions in the coming years until it was superseded by the larger (although barely more potent) 307 in 1968. As car weights and accessory equipment demands increased, the 283 would increasingly struggle to live up to its original reputation as a lively engine, but with this bump in power in a quite light car (3460lbs), it could still live up to its rep with a 0-60 time of 10.7 seconds. That may not sound all that impressive, but back then 10 seconds defined a “quick” car.

As a rather painful point of comparison, In 1964 CL tested a Ford Custom sedan with the 195 hp 289 V8 and 3-speed Cruise-O-Matic, and its 0-60 time was a very soggy 15.2 seconds. That’s just a tick faster than the ’66 Bel Air with the 250  six and Powerglide, in a review we posted here.

Admittedly this Biscayne had the three-speed manual transmission, but I’ve come to realize that may not have been much of an advantage as numerous vintage reviews have shown that PG equipped cars were often just as quick as manuals in the 0-60 since they had greater torque multiplication at the start as well as not needing to make a shift with a typically balky column shifter. As a frame of reference, a heavier 1965 Impala with this same 283 and PG took 12.4 seconds.

This was despite the standard rear axle ratio having been lowered (numerically) from 3.36:1 in 1962 to 3.08:1 for 1963. The result of course was lower engine speeds when cruising, only some 2500 rpm at 60mph. Noise went down and fuel economy improved, to 17 mpg overall and a maximum recorded 19 mpg. That’s decidedly better than average for a lively V8 full size car of the era.

The other benefit was that second gear now was more versatile as a passing gear, usable up to a maximum speed of 72 mph at 5000 rpm. Its top speed of 105 mph would have been higher though with a higher numerical rear axle ratio, but traveling salesmen undoubtedly appreciated the reduced engine speed and noise as well as the improved economy. The little two-barrel carb and single exhaust restricted the inherent potential of the 283 at higher speeds, resulting in an acceleration curve that was brisk up to 85 mph but then really flattened out. CL pointed out that this gear ratio was “ideal for economy…not for the performance-minded”. With  the right rear axle ratio, this Biscayne could likely have gotten into the nines for the 0-60 run, and improved its 17.9 second 1/4 mile time @76 mph.

Speaking of weight (3460 lbs), CL was surprised to see that the ’63 had shed some 60 lbs from the ’62 model, thanks in part to a new aluminum-cased alternator. As a point of comparison, that ’64 Ford Custom they tested the following year had a curb weight of 3805 lbs. Fords of this era (1960-1964) were always heavier, thanks to Ford having gone overboard on the 1960 in terms of size and resulting weight. The considerably slimmer all-new ’65 Ford got its weight back in line, shedding some 300 lbs.

CL summed it up: “Obviously it is cheap, economical and has considerable spunk. It is ideal for the traveling salesman and thousands have been sold for just that purpose”. Maybe more like “hundreds of thousands”?

CL relates that its own Midwest sales manager bought a similar ’62 model the previous year and was very happy with it, having put on 22,000 trouble free miles except for one rattle. He traded in a compact for it, and was happier in the big Chevy. He probably wasn’t the only one who did that.

As I documented in “Who Killed The Big American Car?“, after years of declining market shares since 1955, big cars enjoyed a brief upturn in 1963 and 1964. It does make me wonder how many of them also were bought with a compact traded in, by owners who just weren’t quite satisfied with a smaller car. We can be pretty sure they were all men though.

I was curious to know what percentage of full-size ’63 Chevrolets were Biscaynes: 13%. Bel Airs accounted for 26% and Impalas for 61%.

And how had it been a decade earlier? The base 150 accounted for 14%, the mid-level 210 for 48% and the top Bel Air for 38% in 1953. The trend was clear: folks who used to by the mid-level trim were moving up to the top in ever greater numbers.

Moving forward in time, the last Biscayne 2-door would be in 1969, the last Biscayne 4-door in 1972, the last Bel Air six in 1973 and the last Bel Air V8 in 1975 (in Canada the Bel Air soldiered on for some years yet).

But in 1963, the el-cheapo Biscayne buyers were still holding their own, undoubtedly due to heavy fleet use like this highway patrol car that has a 327 V8 and most likely a three speed manual. And thanks to its police package, it’s sporting big 15″ wheels and tires as well as heavy duty suspension and metallic brake linings that turned the marshmallow Biscayne into a very capable high speed cruiser (and stopper). Our traveling salesman might be well advised to not try to outrun this highway patrol car even if his one of his paramours was eagerly waiting for him at a motel.

The Biscayne lived up to the usual quite high Chevrolet standards of fit and finish back then. The paint job was the best CL had seen in this price class, although not exactly quite perfect either. As to its mechanical components, Chevrolet’s rep for reliability had been earned. And a heater was standard, along with the alternator, PCV and self-adjusting brakes. What more could a traveling salesman ask for, in 1963? A Bel Air, perhaps?

And what did this Biscayne cost? $2,429 as tested, which adjusts to…exactly ten times that in 2023 dollars: $24,289, or about the price of a new Corolla LE, a good choice for basic transport in 2025.

The interior was described as “serviceable but a little plain“. Well yes, that’s what makes it a Biscayne and not an Impala. At least it had full carpeting unlike the rubber floor a few years earlier. That reminds me, I had a friend in grade school with whom I rode to orchestra practice. His dad, a married grad student, used to drive a 1958 or 1959 Rambler American but one day showed up in a brand new ’64 Biscayne 4-door, with the six and three-on-the-tree. Its back seat felt so much bigger than the snug American, and I remember its patterned upholstery, carpeting and lack of rear door armrests all-too well.

Of course the Biscayne was far from perfect. A major complaint was the noisy three-speed transmission that “wails like a dyspeptic banshee“, apparently due to a design flaw that placed the first gear set too far away from bearings, allowing the shaft to separate some, resulting in lack of complete mesh and resulting noises. The solution was to fork over $199.10 for the Powerglide. The excellent Borg-Warner T-10 four speed wasn’t available with the 283; that required a 327 or 409.

Another complaint was the driving position. The seat’s relationship to the pedals and steering wheel were less than ideal. The steering wheel was too close and too high, and the seat too low; a common complaint about these cars.

As to the Chevy’s ride and handling, it was predictably too soft and the manual steering too slow, with 5.8 turns lock-to-lock. Heavy duty springs and shocks easily cured the first issue.

The unassisted drum brakes turned out be “quite good”. Two “all-on” stops from 85 mph did not result in the typical fade or pulling. The brakes had a new self-adjusting feature that also increased their self-energizing function, making power assist even less necessary. Or desirable: my own experiences with power drum brakes inherently resulted in gross over-braking at low speeds, with a very touchy pedal.

CL ends with this advice, despite the many positive qualities of the Biscayne:

Try the seating/driving position before you sign the papers.

Related CC reading.

Curbside Classic: 1963 Chevrolet Impala SS 409 – Giddyup, Giddyup 409 by PN

Curbside Classic: 1964 Chevrolet Bel Air Wagon – Love Transcends All   by PN

Curbside Classic: 1964 Chevrolet Biscayne Taxi – Experiencing Down Time  by J.Shafer

Vintage Car Life Road Test: 1966 Chevrolet Bel Air Six With Powerglide – Just How Slow Was It?   by PN

Automotive History: An X-Ray Look At GM’s X-Frame (1957-1970) – Xing Out Some Myths  by PN

Automotive History: Who Killed the Big American Car?  by PN