Hemmings Motor News May 2021

A hardworking, eager-to-please 1970 Chevrolet K10 pickup. I bought it in 2000, wrung it out doing all sorts of hauling and towing and then, in 2010, when it refused to go anymore, I enlisted the help of my dad to kick off its revival. Many Hemmings readers would’ve knocked this project out in a few months, but I dragged it out over 10 years (through no fault of my dad’s; he would’ve also finished it in a few months). All the while I whined, complained, etc. in this very spot. In one final act of pathological self-absorption, in this issue you’ll find part one of a two-part series showing the restoration of that truck over the last decade. If you’re looking for The Definitive Guide to Chevrolet Pickup Restoration, I can assure…

“…my Bronco had no legitimate business passing inspection.” I’ve yet to throw a tantrum at the Department of Motor Vehicles, but I’ve certainly seen them before. While living in New York, our local DMV was the Midtown Manhattan location. They had one of those machines that printed you a number tag; you’d end up with something like “Q372,” and look up at the board to see “Now Serving D619.” It had a rather disheartening effect. Still, with about 50 windows and the employees to staff them, the process often went faster than I’d have imagined. The location, like other New York DMVs, was staffed by a gatekeeper who would ask what you were there for and review your docs before you got your number from the machine. It had the wonderful result…

As always, a poignant, thoughtful column, from McNessor in the February issue, yet new and improved! I admire McNessor as one of a triumvirate of poignant, thoughtful writers with a wicked humor streak a mile wide who never fails to make me smile. (Or spew my “Hey, it’s 5 o’clock somewhere” rum and (diet) Coke on my computer screen and keyboard.) Now, where was I? Oh, triumvirate… (pausing to Google the meaning)…well, good to know it isn’t a British sports car with a V-8 transplanted into it. Between yourself, Carl Hiaasen, and Dave Barry, I’m almost always wallowing in literary happiness. Thanks for being there. (Applause.) Moving along, in the body of the February issue, the limited-production AMC Rebel Raider regional dealer special article highlighted some of the silly lengths and shallow…

IN MEMORIAM Bruce Meyers, “Mr. Norm” Kraus, and Mark Kramer died in February February was a cruel month for the collector-car hobby. In the span of four short weeks, we lost dune buggy pioneer Bruce Meyers, High-Performance King Norman “Mr. Norm” Kraus, and Pavilions car show founder Mark Kramer. Bruce Meyers’ life didn’t quite go as he planned. Following his service in World War II, he trained as an artist, and got the idea for his dune buggy design after noticing how bare Volkswagen chassis skimmed over the dunes at Pismo Beach more effectively than the old-school “pumpers.” The Meyers Manx was born, and soon after ignited a VW-based kit-car craze that lasted for decades. Meyers would design numerous buggy variants (and other products, including hot tubs) over the years, and finally sold…

When U.S. automobile production resumed after World War II, eager buyers scooped up warmed-over prewar models while advertising agencies cleverly avoided the phrase, “all new.” Take Mercury, for instance. The division’s pitch for 1946 was, “Step out with Mercury.” It was simple enough, and the mid-priced branch of Ford Motor Company promptly sold 86,603 cars. A year later, “More of everything you want” became the company’s slogan. Sure, the instrument panel dials had been updated, interior hardware was now finished in chrome, as was the grille surround, hub caps had been revised, and there was a new nameplate on the hood, but there was nothing “more” to Mercury. With little effort at the factory and the swipe of an artist’s brush, another 86,383 units were built during the model year. By then,…

For years, the 1957 Chevrolet Bel Air was one of the definitive postwar American collector cars — especially in convertible and two-door hardtop form. Chevrolet was the first low-priced car to hit the magical 1-hp-per-cubic-inch number with its fuel-injected 283-hp 283. The ’57 was a big deal when new, possibly even a bigger deal as a used car, and then a bountiful canvas for hot rodding during the muscle car years. Interest from the generation that owned them new was replaced by interest from the Baby Boom generation that bought them on the secondary market in the 1960s and ’70s. Now, it seems even Gen Xers, who grew up with Happy Days and the Stray Cats crooning about the ’57 having been “Built for Speed,” have a soft spot for…