John DeLorean’s hubris had him convinced he had the 200% solution: Pontiac would not only build the best American-style muscle cars, but also the best European-style sporty cars. The GTO, 2+2 and Firebird 400 would cover the first segment and the OHC six Sprint package on the Tempest/LeMans and Firebird would cover the second one. Sure, a high-revving OHC six, four speed manual, disc brakes, bucket seats and a handling package were as European as it got in 1966-1967—except for the Corvair, of course—but did that make a LeMans sedan thusly equipped a genuine European-style sporty sedan?
What better way to find out than to drive it in Europe? Pontiac made that offer to Car and Driver, and they accepted, naturally. Given the resulting review, it’s safe to say that Pontiac’s considerable outlay to air freight the LeMans didn’t turn out to be such a good investment. This was not the typical exotic locale junket and resulting rosy write-up; C/D was pretty scathing about the Sprint’s limitations, and not just in Europe. Turns out the Sprint was the wrong car in the US too.
It’s pretty obvious what led to Pontiac making this unusual and generous offer to C/D—they had been gushing about the new OHC six since it arrived in the fall of 1965. At last! Someone in Detroit gets it! A genuine overhead cam production engine, and a six at that! Detroit can take on the Europeans!
C/D took it to ridiculous extremes when they had one swapped into a Jaguar XK-E. Why bother with all of that, since the stock Sprint version they first put in was substantially slower than the the Jag DOHC six? And even when Hurst had the Pontiac six completely rebuilt in full hot-rod fashion, it still wasn’t as fast in the 1/4 mile? All that time and money for what? Seemed kinda’ dumb to me at the time, and even more so now. But back then C/D was trying a bit too hard to be…different, including in truly regrettable ways. Clickbait wasn’t invented in the 21st century.
Of course those of us with European-leaning interests and sensibilities were excited about the new Pontiac OHC six, whose block was heavily based on the Chevy six. There was just one problem: Pontiac didn’t really have the right car for it. It would have been more at home in the Y-Body 1961-1963 Tempest, with its lighter body, rear transaxle and IRS. In my write-up of one of those, the title was “Pontiac Tries To Build A BMW Before BMW Built Theirs, And Almost Succeeds“. The biggest shortcoming in those was the hoary big four cylinder, since Pontiac didn’t yet have what would have been perfect them: a sweet, smooth-running OHC six. Well, it wouldn’t have fit under the hood anyway, at least not without some serious butchering.
The problem was that by 1966, the smallest and lightest car Pontiac had was the A-Body Tempest and LeMans, but they weighed in at right around 3500 lbs bare. And the F-Body Firebird that arrived in 1967 wasn’t much lighter either; maybe a couple of hundred pounds at the most. As I titled my Vintage R&T Review of the 1966 Sprint: “Nice Engine, Wrong Car“.
The most suitable platform for the OHC six would have been a Pontiac version of the Chevy II, like this Canadian-market Acadian Canso Sport, which weighed as little as 2760 lbs. With 215 hp, that would have given it a 12.8lbs/hp ratio, about the same as some pretty quick V8 cars, say a 289 four-barrel Mustang, for example. Of course, the real Chevy II was available with even more powerful V8s, so it still begs the question.
I’m getting ahead of myself; let’s do the actual review:
It’s quite obvious that Pontiac had this LeMans built specifically for this test: a four door sedan, understated white with black vinyl top, the Sprint package, bucket seats, four speed manual, Rally wheels, front disc brakes, tachometer and special instrumentation, wood-rim tilting steering wheel, power windows and a slew of other convenience options, Super-Lift shocks, limited slip differential, transistor ignition, and the “ride and handling” package. This was very much a one-off; I’ve never seen any four-door with the Sprint package.
The resulting price, $4,049.50 ($39k adjusted) was a bit of an eye-opener; as C/D put it: “this took the edge of the Pontiac’s largest single advantage over its European counterparts“. A BMW 1800 4-door was $3225 and a Mercedes 250S was $4910. Was the Pontiac Sprint really up to being compared to these and others on their home turf?
The trip started in London and after a channel crossing, headed to Bologne for the first overnight. Yes, the Pontiac’s trunk swallowed all of the luggage, but the car’s relative huge size—despite being merely a “mid-size” American car—was a major negative. “…in Europe we became a moving traffic jam. We were constantly nervous about encountering narrow streets and the traffic snarl that always ensued.” But the locals did gather when the Pontiac was parked, to stare and readily give their admiration for it.
In the driving rain that was encountered, the wiper motor fuse blew the first time. A box of 30-amp fuses was fortunately located and put to good use. The issue was eventually tracked down to a loose wire at the motor.
Driving in the two-lane highways of the French countryside, the Pontiac’s optional stiffer suspension and Super-Lift shocks proved to be unpleasantly stiff, administering super-sized shocks to the backsides of rear seat passengers. This was a perfect example of the perpetual American car conundrum: their relatively crude suspensions gave a nice ride on typical American roads and speeds, but when stiffness was added to give more control and better “European-style” handling, a punishing ride was all-too often the result.
The Europeans had been developing more sophisticated suspension systems for years, and made that a priority. They were not stiff or harsh at all; their excellent handling was not compromised by rough roads or such. The goal was to give a reasonably supple ride over rough roads and still afford good control at speed and in curves, even if they leaned a bit. Different strokes for different continents.
In another typical contrast, the Goodyear Wide Oval (low-profile) bias-ply tires gave good traction on dry pavement, but their tendency to hydroplane in the wet was “unacceptable”
C/D felt a bit like the Ugly American navigating the Pontiac through a sea of 2CVs and R4s in Paris traffic. But a night at a the Hotel de Napoleon and a good French dinner and a fine Bordeaux eased any lingering guilt.
The wiper motor having been fixed overnight at a GM garage in Paris, the next issue reared its head: three missing bolts on the oil pan. A bit odd, but not an impediment to forward progress. But the handling was another matter:
On the drive from Morez to Geneva, we briefly explored the Pontiac’s limits of adhesion and found that while it understeers slightly, its power steering and brakes are completely unsuited to the European style of flat-out driving. These power assisted controls are so overly sensitive that no feeling of the road is transmitted to the driver. European power assists are deliberately held back, to make sure the driver gets the message. The Mercedes-Benz power steering and the BMW’s subtly power-boosted brakes are excellent examples.
In addition to the humiliation of being passed by a Rover 2000 TC filled with young English mods, the Pontiac’s rear axle refused to behave itself on corrugated curves, like those radially-ribbed mountain switchbacks the French are so fond of. With everything set up for an increasing-radius understeer-type turn, the rigid axle would begin skipping sideways across the broad ripples while the intended radius disappeared in a welter of hasty steering corrections. This is no way for a great European-style road car to behave!
True that. This was the crux of the difference between American and European cars back in the day.
On the many switchbacks, the precise but quite stiff Hurst shifter became a pain in the hand, to the point where the driver was wishing for a three-speed Turbo Hydra-Matic, which of course was not available with the six. The solution was a pair of driving gloves to ease the endless shifting.
There were more deficits compared to European cars. The driving position behind the wheel was not good, with the wheel too close to the chest. The tilt mechanism didn’t solve that satisfactorily; it required a telescoping steering column, not available on the A-Bodies.
And there were more mechanical deficits too: the Pontiac continually overheated and the accompanying ignition knock (detonation) “was deafening“. An all-night Fiat garage found that the ignition timing was advanced well beyond factory specs. Resetting it helped some, but the Pontiac OHC six would just not run properly, unhappy when pushed hard, and it would not pull smoothly in high gear below 2500 rpm. So much for the magical benefits of an overhead cam.
Things were better in Italy, when the Pontiac was given its head on the non-speed limited autostrada. But the top speed that could be coaxed out of it was rather modest 96 mph (155 kph), and then only briefly, as the engine started overheating again.
At 140 kph (87 mph), or roughly 4000 rpm, everything settled down to normal and we loped happily along, watching Lancias, Alfas, Mercedes and the occasional Maserati pass us by.
So much for Pontiac’s ambitions for the Sprint to be a genuine European road car. Fail.
In general, you get what you pay for, although in the case of this particular Pontiac, the value isn’t readily apparent. Measuring its worth against the European sport sedans we’ve mentioned, the Pontiac lacks the tangible feeling of quality that these imports are famous for.
C/D points out that while the Pontiac accelerates well enough, it can’t actually maintain the high rate of speed it’s capable of, and its handling, brakes steering and ride are simply not up to European-level standards or expectations.
C/D specifically refers to this ad for the Pontiac Sprint in their write-up, pointing out that the list of its ingredients, high-revving ohc six, 4-speed, woodrim steering wheel, disc brakes, stiff suspension, bucket seats, tachometer, etc. simply don’t add up to a European car.
The Pontiac is as American as apple pie and Lime Rock, and that’s a different kind of car, no matter how close it may come on paper.
C/D asks why this engine or car even exists, since Detroit is so adroit at building world-class big, loafing V8s. If one wants to drive in the Rockies like the Europeans drive in the Alps, just buy a European car that’s truly designed for those conditions. But for most of America, the American formula works way too well to bother with the Sprint formula. That American formula includes a V8, a proper automatic transmission, and the power and luxury conveniences that are so relatively affordable and work so well on American cars, even if it is at the expense of a bit of efficiency and handling.
It wouldn’t have the Sprint’s exotic six-cylinder exhaust note, but it wouldn’t get winded at 97 mph either.
But this is the American way, baby, and when Americans stop worshipping at the altar of European traditions and get with the home-grown product, maybe we’ll start building sports sedans as well as they do over there.
True that. And that did happen, eventually.
PS: Did they do the actual performance testing in Europe too? The 0-60 time of 8.8 seconds is the quickest time I’ve found yet for either a Tempest/LeMans or Firebird Sprint. The other two reviews are right at ten seconds.
Related CC reading:
Vintage Road & Track Review: 1966 Pontiac Sprint – Nice Engine; Wrong Car
Vintage R&T Road Test: 1967 Pontiac Firebird Sprint – “European-Style Driving Machine? — Hardly”
One Of Car & Driver’s Dumber Moments: Pontiac OHC Six-Powered Jaguar XK-E
What a handsome, handsome car. To look at.
You’d have to wonder, were GM’s American insularities so thick that they really thought a fairly crudely-suspended (and very heavy) machine could compete in Europe because it had the stiffen-the-suspensions-to-buggery specs? That’s just a car suitable to be fast on a track. Yet GM’s spent good money on this – the car’s air trip to Euroland would surely have cost almost as much as the car, to begin with – which seems to suggest someone important really believed it.
Btw, I reckon the faintly absurd 3.55 rear end accounts for the spectacular acceleration, though it did mean the poor old six was popping its clogs at just 97 and overheating.
I’ll give C & D full points for the review, as they have not cowed to the providers, and called things as they found them to be. And I agree with their last lines, but can I ask, politely, when did America eventually produce the wonderfully V8-engined car that REALLY gave the Euros a go at handling and responsiveness? I’m sure my thinking is very parochial and I’m missing things, but it seems to me it wasn’t until Lutz gave GM Holden the freedom to make the 2006-on Commodore (Pontiac G8, Chev SS) that that really happened: big, and bit fat, handsome, very comfortable, RWD, honking great engine of no great complexity, but as good at what those fancied names could do even on their own turf.
I’m sure the cost was charged against the divisional marketing budget, and was probably a pretty modest line item thereon. It was a publicity stunt, although it backfired to some extent. My guess is that someone at PMD got the clever idea of tinkering with the spark advance settings to improve the engine’s power, which was an effective trick on a dragstrip, but not so good in sustained high-speed driving with an engine that was already straining the limits of its cooling capacity. The blown fuse issue was something else, presumably some component failure or faulty wiring installation.
The blown fuse was from a loose wire to the wiper motor and was fixed at a Fiat garage.
And I agree with their last lines, but can I ask, politely, when did America eventually produce the wonderfully V8-engined car that REALLY gave the Euros a go at handling and responsiveness?
That last line is subject to some interpretation. here’s what they said:
But this is the American way, baby, and when Americans stop worshipping at the altar of European traditions and get with the home-grown product, maybe we’ll start building sports sedans as well as they do over there.
I take that to mean that Americans should build sports sedans “in the American way”, and that did happen to a considerable degree just a few years later when GM finally got serious about optimizing the capabilities of their conventional suspension systems. We’ve had numerous review of these mid-70s efforts, but this one shows the considerable progress;
https://www.curbsideclassic.com/vintage-reviews/vintage-review-1973-oldsmobile-cutlass-salon-versus-1973-mercedes-450se-no-joke-car-and-driver-compares-a-colonnade-to-an-s-class/
I didn’t make any sense for the Big 3 to build a true European-style sports sedan in the US just as it didn’t make sense for the Europeans to build an American-style luxury car fo Europe. That’s what imports are for.
The take rate on these GM cars like the Cutlass Salon compared to the regular version was abysmally small. It’s just not what Americans wanted.
What a growing number of Americans really wanted was the prestige of having a star or roundel on the hoods of their cars, even if they just tottered along in the 240D or desmogged 318i or 528e. What percentage of American Mercedes or BMW buyers actually ever came even remotely close to utilizing or appreciating the capabilities of their cars’ suspensions? In 1966, yes, some, especially the BMW. But by 1973 or 1983 or….? Minute. They became status symbols like LaCoste shirts and such.
To answer your question “when did America eventually produce the wonderfully V8-engined car that REALLY gave the Euros a go at handling and responsiveness?”
The C2 Corvette was tested by various European magazines including UK’s Autocar, where the ’63 fuelie coupe they tested in 1964 earned praise for its handling, performance and, yes, fuel economy(!) I ran a C2 427 in Europe including Alpine and Black forest roads aswell as general high speed touring and it coped really well. It was upgraded to have decent modern tires, monoleaf rear spring and Bilstein dampers, and a 3.08 rear end, plus electric cooling fans. Colleagues at Porsche who drove it were impressed by just how well it handled, as were competitors driving 911s in rallies we entered.
I think you are right that the typical American solid rear axle suspension suffered when stiffened enough to handle in a “European” manner, and that the ‘Vette is the exception that proves the rule with its independent rear end and 50/50 weight distribution allowing it to compete on equal terms with the Europeans. Don’t forget that Ferrari and Maserati were still offering live rear ends at this time, too.
I think a Corvair (particularly post ’65) could also be pretty good on European roads – does anyone know of any European tests of one?
Europeans did buy American cars, but wanted them for their American qualities and because they were different to those offered by European manufacturers.
Yeah Justy, nice try by GMH on those but not really competitive with contemporary French cars, I rented and un comfortable 06 Holden new in QLD and bought a used 98 406 Peugeot which beat it in every metric.
C/D mentions that the spacious trunk had room for their rose-colored glasses. For once, in a test of a GM car, they didn’t wear them.
When I was a kid, my next door neighbors had two A body Pontiacs. Mrs. Bordner drove a 66 GTO with a 4 speed, and Mr. Bordner picked a 67 LeMans Sprint, also with a 4 speed. I remember the “OHC 6” badging and that wonderful exhaust note.
I can see how that car was too big to get much advantage out of the engine. Or, another way to look at it, was that the engine simply wasn’t potent enough to make a case for itself. A version of this played out in the 80s with yesterday’s Merkur. That car (and the Mustang SVO) tried to go with the Euro formula of a turbocharged 4 when for far less money you could have a Mustang with a good old American V8 that provided a lot more punch in the low rev range where we were used to getting it.
5,000 RPM ? .
Wow .
I think some radial tires and careful adjusting of their pressure would have helped a lot .
Were it a two door hard top I’d have loved to give it a whirl .
I notice in the check list it reads fine .
-Nate
Silly that they went through all that trouble and didn’t make it a cross flow head.
Predictable results really, French roads must have been bad since forever, Citroen found out how to solve that problem, Peugeot and Renault the same, and rock hard suspension wasnt the answer, Great acceleration is neither here nor there in the real world it simply doesnt matter if you have to lift off or brake when the road twists and the surface turns into washboard, Radial tyres make a vast difference to how cars behave on bad twisty roads especially with primitive suspension set ups however they sent this Pontiac over with bias belt rubber and the wrong axle ratio for high speed cruising, Ive never seen the OHC six engine, nobody sent any over but a guy I knew way back had a V8 swapped car bought engineless and repowered, my brother bought his rustbucket Holden from him and we got taken for a blast in the Pontiac when we went to pick it, yep fast as but it didnt corner any better than the Holden
If it had to be a Pontiac that it powered, a Ventura pulled ahead to ’68 and with standard radials and bucket seats might have made for a nicely balanced sport sedan.
For the record, the difference in shipping weights between the lightest 1967 Tempest and the lightest 1967 Firebird was 155 lb. Actual curb weights obviously varied depending on body style, trim, and equipment, but the baseline difference was not much, which was why the Firebird Sprint was never notably faster than the Tempest/Le Mans Sprint.