Vintage Car Life Road Test: 1970 Plymouth Barracuda ‘Cuda 340 – “At Least The Stylists Did A Good Job Of It”

 

Since April 1964, Chrysler-Plymouth Division had been trying and mostly failing to compete with the popular Ford Mustang with two generations of the Plymouth Barracuda, a solidly engineered sporty coupe whose better-than-average driving manners didn’t make up for its unfashionable styling and too-obvious kinship with the workaday Plymouth Valiant. For 1970, Chrysler-Plymouth pulled out all the stops with an all-new third-generation Barracuda, with a muscular new look and the widest selection of powertrain options in the pony car segment. In February 1970, Car Life tested the new ‘Cuda 340 and found it a step backwards in everything but styling.

Before anyone gets too upset at me, I want to go on record as saying I like the Valiant-based first- and second-generation A-body Barracudas. I think the Corvairish second-generation hardtop is a really good-looking car, and I have a soft spot for the first-generation fastback Formula S, even though I can’t see one without recalling the contemporary critic who said it “looked not unlike a giant Easter egg.”

Front 3q view of a Citron Gold 1966 Plymouth Barracuda Formula S with black stripes painted over the hood, roof, and tail

Look, I like this car, I really do, but it doesn’t NOT look like an Easter egg, that’s all I’m saying / Hot Rod

 

That remark came from one of the editors of Car Life, but the CL staff had been big fans of the second-generation Barracuda. Their road test of a 1968 Barracuda Formula S with the new 340 engine had called it “a real value in the field of high-performance automobiles,” and they had recently gotten some outstanding results with a warmed-up 1969 ‘Cuda 340. It was probably for that reason as much as anything else that the CL editors were so disappointed with the 1970 ‘Cuda 340.

Car Life, February 1970, page 38, first page of Plymouth Barracuda 340 road test with the headline "one small step for STYLING: The first real Barracuda has style, but with more weight and less room, the 340 isn't the road car it was"; above the headline is a B&W photo of the car cornering hard on a road course with the words "Car Life Road Test" superimposed in blue

They began with this candid assessment:

WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT that Plymouth Division, as straight a bunch of arrows as ever tried to sell a car on its mechanical virtues, could be lured from the tower onto the beaten path by a pretty face?

Not us. We have an eye for a pretty face, too, and greeted the first real Barracuda with great delight. Beautiful shape and now, we thought, freed from the shackles of building a Ponycar with Compact pieces, the sharp engineers at Plymouth can improve an already good car, include all the things they’ve learned during the three years the second-generation Barracuda was on the market.

Trouble is, engineering wasn’t the Barracuda’s problem. It offered things the other Ponycars didn’t, like the extra space behind the rear seat of the fastback coupes, and it was a bit bigger inside, for those buyers who worry about such matters. In 1968 and ’69, it had the 340-cid V-8, best of the mid-size performance engines. And a good, controllable chassis.

It didn’t sell. The car didn’t look as good as it was.

The outgoing A-body Barracuda had sold a grand total of 139,933 units in three model years. In later years, with a weaker market for compact coupes, that would have been fine, maybe even good, but during the late ’60s pony car boom, it was dismal. Aggregate A-body Barracuda production from 1964 to 1969 had totaled 266,001 units across two generations — still 11 percent less than the Ford Mustang had sold just in 1969, far from its best year. In 1969, the Barracuda had fallen behind the AMC Javelin to claim the title of worst-selling domestic pony car. In other words, none of the previous-generation Barracuda’s virtues had been successful at moving the metal, which is the quality automakers care most about. Obviously, something had to be done, but what?

 

Car Life surmised:

Now, Plymouth (and Chrysler Corp.) seldom innovates. Radical styling is not encouraged. Someone high in the tower must have looked at the figures and said that if the public wants to buy worthy Ponycars by the tens of thousands and long hoods/short decks by the hundreds of thousands, why, Plymouth had better build some long hoods and short decks.

So they did. If the new Barracuda looks very like its rivals, well, at least the stylists did a good job of it.

Car Life, February 1970, page 39, second page of Plymouth Barracuda 340 road test, with a B&W photo of the 340 engine below the text

The photo caption for the engine photo above reads, “THE BEST PART of the test Barracuda was the 340-cid engine, our favorite Mopar powerplant. It’s moved back two inches, compared with the older Barracuda, but added sheetmetal makes weight distribution worse than it was.”

 

For the handful of readers who don’t already know this, the 1970 Plymouth Barracuda and closely related 1970 Dodge Challenger shared a new platform that Chrysler called the E-body. This was in some respects a cut-down version of the B-body intermediate platform used by the Plymouth Belvedere, Road Runner, and Satellite, sharing much of the bigger cars’ cowl structure and chassis hardware. Consequently, the E-body Barracuda was 5 inches wider than the 1969 A-body model, and had very different proportions:

[T]he body has moved forward on its wheels, like an early Funny Car in reverse. Overall length is cut 6 in., but what remains is farther forward. This is how they got the long hood and short deck. We made some non-standard measurements, comparing with the staff-owned ‘69. From front wheel centerline to front bumper, 36 inches for the old car, 41 for the new. The hood is definitely longer. From front wheels to the top of the steering wheel rim was 41 inches in 1969, 48 in 1970. So the driver has exactly one more foot of metal between him and the front bumper.

Widening the Barracuda made room for Chrysler’s biggest engines, the 440 and 426 Hemi, which had previously been a very tight squeeze in the narrower A-body engine bay. However, the bulkier structure and new side impact door beams (not yet mandatory, but to be required by federal safety standards later in the E-body’s expected run) made the 1970 Barracuda significantly heavier than the outgoing A-body model. According to the AMA specifications, the lightest six-cylinder Barracuda hardtop gained 245 lb of curb weight from 1969 to 1970.

 

The Car Life test car was a ‘Cuda, the performance-oriented trim series, with the relatively lightweight 340 engine (which had a dry weight within a few pounds of a Chevrolet small-block) and a modest list of options, including power steering and brakes, TorqueFlite, “performance axle group,” radio, E60-15 tires on Rallye wheels, Rallye instruments, and center console. However, it weighed in at a hefty 3,630 lb, and would have been heavier still with the 383 engine that was standard on the ‘Cuda. Car Life‘s 1968 Barracuda 340-S had weighed only 3,470 lb, and that was with air conditioning.

 

With the E-body platform, Chrysler had been able to shift the engine rearward by about 2 inches, but the longer nose meant weight distribution was still slightly worse than the previous generation. Compared to some big-engine Supercars of the time, a 56/44 split wasn’t disastrous, but it was a different story if a buyer ordered the 440 or 426 Hemi engines, which were much heavier than the 340.

Inevitably, the extra weight eroded performance somewhat:

The 1970 ’Cuda wasn’t quite as quick as the older 340s. It was the first 340 we’ve driven that wouldn’t break 15 sec. on the strip. A flat 15 sec. E.T. is no disgrace: still more than a match for most of the mid-size V-8s, but the added weight subtracted more acceleration than the 3.55:1 gears added. An academic point, surely. The difference between 15.0 and 14.93 cannot be felt, which is why we use clocks. But we had hoped for progress.

With the 3.55 axles and E60-15 tires, they recorded 0 to 60 mph in 7.5 seconds, 0 to 100 mph in 19.4 seconds, and the standing quarter mile in 15.0 seconds at 94 mph. Their listed top speed was 125.4 mph, although as usual, there was no indication whether that was an observed or calculated figure. Their test average fuel consumption was 13.9 mpg, which wasn’t bad for a pony car offering this kind of performance.

 

A curious point about the ‘Cuda was that the standard engine was actually the four-barrel 383, with a nominal 335 gross horsepower; the theoretically less powerful 340, which was advertised at 275 gross horsepower, was optional. It’s widely understood that the 340 was underrated from the factory (although the net ratings Chrysler published for 1971 still claimed that it was less powerful than the 383-4V), and its combination of high-winding power and modest weight made it one of the more desirable pony car engines. However, Car Life remarked:

For obscure reasons, Plymouth doesn’t like the 340, or at least doesn’t encourage its use. Last year we had the 340 ‘Cuda, the performance model priced to compete. The new performance car is still ’Cuda, hut the standard engine is the 383, fine in station wagons and sedans, but not the answer to Ponycar power. So you have to order a 340, or luck onto a dealer who listens to his customers rather than the factory.

My assumption is that the 340 was expensive to produce: It required special foundry techniques to allow the biggest bore and largest ports the LA-series V-8 block and heads could safely handle on the assembly line. Given that, it’s not surprising that Chrysler-Plymouth would rather people just ordered the 383.

Car Life, February 1970, page 40, third page of Plymouth Barracuda 340 road test, with B&W photos of the dashboard and front seats above the text and the first half of the data panel below

The captions of the photos at the top of the above page read, “WlDE-SWEEP tach reads to 8000 rpm, but the useful portion is a narrow band. All the instruments needed for performance driving are provided,” and “SHAPELY seats pleased no one. Steering wheel, seats and people are all lower.”

Close-up of the Rallye instrument cluster (with woodgrain trim) in a 1970 Plymouth 'Cuda

The Rallye instrument cluster (seen here in a different 1970 ‘Cuda) included a 150 mph speedometer, an 8,000 rpm tachometer, full instruments, and a clock / Bring a Trailer

 

The CL test car had the three-speed TorqueFlite automatic with a new type of console shifter that Chrysler called the Slap-Stick. Car Life explained:

It’s called the “slick shifter” and it is. Upshifts are as safe as church. Leave it in drive, and it goes up and down like any other automatic. Haul back into first, and it will shift into second when pushed forward. Shove as hard as you like: second is as far as it will go, so there’s no risk, and no need to baby it. From second, though, it takes a bit of re-think, mental preparation. Before it will move on to third, the gearshift must be allowed to rock back and reindex itself. Takes some doing. With every fiber of the driver’s soul urging the car forward, the right hand must relax and set back. But one run is enough. With the reflex prepared, it works very well. And drivers who never use anything except drive will never notice. You can even do the mountain road routine, going from third to second on the tight sections, without any re-think at all. Just snap the lever back and forth.

The shifter is the most noticeable mechanical improvement, in fact the only one that comes to mind.

They groused that the 340 engine’s new exhaust system, revised to enable the Barracuda to meet new California drive-by noise restrictions, had seemed to contribute to the new car’s “lack of speed” compared to the 1969 ‘Cuda 340 they had tested in November 1968. That might have been so, although the 1970 car’s extra 160 lb and taller axle ratio (the 1969 car had a four-speed manual transmission with a 3.91 axle) undoubtedly contributed. Still, the CL editors complained:

We can hardly complain about a car being built to pass laws, especially when the original Formula S was notorious for getting owners into discussions over whether that big square stack out the back really was supplied by the factory. But the 1970 car was much quieter than the 1969, and we anarchists wish it wasn’t so.

Car Life, February 1970, page 41, fourth page of Plymouth Baracuda 340 road test, with B&W photos of the rear seat and trunk above the text and the second half of the data panel below

The captions of the photos at the top of the page read, “EVEN KIDS were cramped in the back, where space was sacrificed for long hood,” and, “SMALLEST TRUNK in the industry, says Plymouth. No doubt it is.”

 

Interior room, which had previously been a Barracuda strong point, was dismal in the E-body ‘Cuda:

Climb into the new Barracuda, and you see what long hood and short deck do to interior design. Armed with the tape measure again, we find that brake pedal to seatback distance is three inches less. Front leg room for the driver is adequate, as it was before. The trunk is much smaller, and the rear seat becomes impossible, except for young children. A handy 10-year old was pressed into service, pun intended. He could sit in the older ’Cuda with room to spare. In the new car, his knees hit the front seat. And he wasn’t an especially big 10-year-old, either. The Barracuda has less room than the Challenger, which makes it not much worse than the Mustang or the current (pre-1970) Camaro. This may be a minor point, and many people buy Ponycars and never carry a person in the back, but once again a Barracuda selling point, one that might have allowed somebody to have a nimbler car than the Compact or Intermediate he’d have to buy otherwise, is sacrificed.

I can see where the editors were coming from here, but Plymouth had tried to stress utility with the Barracuda since mid-1964, and it had gotten them exactly nowhere. Given the dismal sales of the first two generations, I think Chrysler-Plymouth Division can be forgiven for not making passenger and cargo room a big priority when the third generation was designed in 1967–1968, even though it obviously limited the practicality of these cars.

Car Life, February 1970, page 42, final page of Plymouth Barracuda road test, with B&W photos in the lower lefthand corner showing the car during braking and cornering tests

 

The ‘Cuda scored no better in ergonomics than it did in outright space:

The seats, semi-buckets in the test car, are new. Nobody liked them. Thin, and not shaped to suit the variety of human forms around here. The lightweights were especially vocal. The cushion is flat, with a bulged border, presumably to keep large people in place. The testers must be thinner than average, and the lump caught them at mid leg. Nor is there any lateral support for hard cornering. Lash yourself in with the belts, or brace yourself against the door. And—you aren’t going to believe this—should you use the door as a brace, and have a Barracuda with electric windows, your knee probably will be braced against the switch. Distinctly odd feeling, to be zooming around a corner and notice that the window is going up and/or down.

 

CL also complained:

Getting in and out isn’t much fun. Those massive doors, bulging with impact beams. They’re big, seven inches longer than the earlier cars, and heavy. Sisyphus, the mythical bad king sentenced to spend eternity rolling boulders uphill, would feel right at home opening the door when the car is tipped to one side.

As the editors had noted earlier in the text, some of the latter problem was due to the new side guard door beams:

But last year General Motors dropped impact bars on the industry, and Chrysler Corp, decided it would be good to have some. They were added to the Barracuda/Challenger body. The bars alone aren’t heavy, but the doors and framing around the door must be strengthened, read made heavier, if the bars are to do anything. Each door and surrounding structure weighs about 75 lb. more as a result, accounting for most of the weight.

 

Front disc brakes were optional on the Barracuda, but not often specified. (According to Automotive Industries, only 13.2 percent of 1970 Barracuda production had discs.) The CL tester had power drums:

The brakes on the test car weren’t the best offered, but the big drums will do fine for routine driving, and even when used hard. Avoid the power booster, though. You get too much help, and there’s too much braking when pushed.

There’s no mention of the troublesome axle hop that other contemporary E-body road tests noted during hard braking. This was a side effect of Chrysler’s habit of positioning the rear axle at about one-third the length of the rear leaf springs (which made the front section of the spring stiffer and the rear section effectively softer), although its severity seemed to depend on the stiffness of the rear springs. Motor Trend found that the only E-body variants that were mostly immune were ones with the extra-stiff suspension used on Hemi cars, which had an extra leaf on each rear spring.

 

Handling had been one of the strong points of the A-body Barracuda, at least with the firmer Formula S suspension package. The E-body ‘Cuda suspension was just as stiff, but CL found the new car sorely lacking in agility:

Handling has been left to the last, in the vain hope that the cavalry would arrive, and make things right, somehow.

Over the hill comes the faint sound of a bugle, but that’s all. Not until the test was underway did we discover that there has been a production problem. The promised rear anti-roll bar intended to negate the front-end weight without undue ride harshness wasn’t on the car. Production should begin about the time you read this. ’Cuda 340s built from introduction until whenever the bar is ready have stiffer springs in back, which is no solution. A bit bumpy for comfort, and it’s not enough for handling.

Just driving along, the Barracuda understeers, like a Valiant six or an Imperial or any humdrum car in between. Pushed, the test car pushed back, with the front wheels going straight like arrows for the outside of the turn. Terminal understeer: all the roll stiffness is in front, so the back wheels stay planted and the fronts slide. The testers spent the day fishing tricks from the bag, to no avail. Plow was all it would do. This is not a dangerous trait, rather the reverse. But it is not a sporting trait. Even high cornering power can’t make up for the total refusal of the car to be controlled. Just as a genius who can only talk about electron microscopes is a dull dinner companion, so is an unresponsive Ponycar a dull car.

The front tires showed signs of a bad camber change, too. The massive understeer may disappear with the arrival of the rear anti-roll bar. The weight imbalance and the front suspension geometry aren’t as easy to fix.

Good luck, Dan.

This last remark was referring to Dan Gurney, whose All American Racers ran two ‘Cudas in the SCCA Trans-Am series in 1970, driven by Gurney and Swede Savage. They did poorly, not helped by Chrysler’s decision to cut their budget early in the season. The AAR cars didn’t win a single race and had six DNF (Did Not Finish) results out of 10 starts, managing only a dismal fifth place on points.

All American Racers No. 48 Plymouth 'Cuda race car on Laguna Seca Raceway

Dan Gurney behind the wheel of an AAR ‘Cuda at Laguna Seca, April 19, 1970; he dropped out after 21 laps due to transmission trouble

 

The Barracuda didn’t do much better in the sales race. Total production for 1970 was 55,499 cars, up from a grim 31,987 in 1969, but still close to the back of the pack: The new Barracuda outsold the soon-to-be-replaced AMC Javelin and AMX, but was far behind its new Dodge Challenger sibling and the Pontiac Firebird, much less the still class-leading Mustang.

 

As Car Life said at the outset, the 1970 E-bodies were first and foremost about style. They still look great, with an appealingly muscular stance, and Mopar powertrains need few apologies, even if your allegiances lie elsewhere. Where the E-body Barracuda fell short was in, well, most other ways. It wasn’t very comfortable, it felt cumbersome, its ergonomics were iffy, and its built quality was notoriously hit and miss. The most desirable variant was the ‘Cuda, but all of its powertrain options were becoming brutally expensive to insure. (I think by this stage, even the 340 was likely to make insurance agents curl their lips in a judgmental and expensive way.) If you could afford the big engines and punitive insurance surcharges, you might just as well order a Road Runner or a GTX, which was only a little heavier.

 

Despite all the attention modern collectors give the hotter models, 49 percent of 1970 Barracuda production was the base model, and it was there that the E-body was weakest. If you wanted a sporty-looking car with a basic V-8 — and many pony car buyers still did — the much cheaper new Plymouth Duster coupe now made a lot more sense. Even the ‘Cuda 340 had a strong rival in the new Duster 340. I’ll present CL‘s take on that car in an upcoming post.

Related Reading

Car Show Classic: 1970 Plymouth Barracuda Gran Coupe – The Broughamiest ‘cuda Around (by Tom Klockau)
CC Capsule: 1970 Plymouth ‘Cuda Convertible – Fancy Some Bubbly? (by Tatra87)
Curbside Classic: 1970 & 1971 Plymouth ‘Cuda – Woulda And Shoulda (by Tatra87)
Plymouth’s Rapid Transit System Circa 1970: Which One Will You Order Up? (by Paul N)
Vintage CL Road Test: 1968 Plymouth Barracuda 340-S – “Best Yet Of The Barracuda Brigade” (by me)
Curbside Classic: 1968 Plymouth Barracuda Formula 340 – The Worst Selling But Best Pony Car Of 1968 (by Paul N)
Vintage CL Road Test: 1969 Plymouth ‘Cuda 440 – “A Disturbing Automobile” (by Paul N)
Why Does Everyone Think That The 1967-1969 Barracuda Coupe And The 1965-1969 Corvair Coupe Have Such Long Tails? They’re Actually Shorter Than Typical (by Paul N)