Smitten at the Auction

LIKE MANY OF you reading this magazine, I enjoy attending the various Audrain events throughout the year, culminating of course with the Concours during the first week of October.

One of my favorites is the auction which is held at the Tennis Hall of Fame. I like it because it is relatively small, featuring around 60 vehicles, so you really get a chance to check them out.

And, like an idiot, I usually break every auction rule I warn other people about, which is: know what you are looking for before you go in! Often, I completely ignore this and immediately fall in love with better versions of cars I already have.

This October it was a beautiful XKE coupe which had been professionally restored to a very high standard, it even had soft-close doors, five-speed transmission and air conditioning hidden so well I couldn’t find it. I already have three XKEs, I said to myself, so I moved on.

Then I saw a car that I have to admit I had never even contemplated buying up to that point: a 1967 Pontiac 2+2 Convertible. Not an earlier Catalina mind you — but a 2+2 with Pontiac’s highest output engine at the time — the 428 with 376 horsepower and 462-foot pounds of torque plus beefed-up internals. It also featured a 4-speed manual transmission and the coolest option, the huge hood mounted tach right in front of the windshield. It is an enormous thing with a 121-inch wheelbase, it’s like a giant GTO but for NBA players.

It looked as if it had been professionally restored as the black paint and chrome looked fantastic. For some reason the previous owner had chromed the front end and put these ridiculous spotlights on the A pillars alongside the windshield as well as a ridiculously tiny Grant steering wheel from the mid-60s. Luckily, the original faux-wood wheel was in the trunk. I was actually kind of glad for these garish adornments because I think they devalued the car, and they helped to scare people away!

It’s a rather strange machine because back in the day anybody that wanted to go fast would order the smaller, lighter GTO. Pontiac worked hard to give this car performance on par with GTO, hence the upgrade to 428 inches. These cars were extremely rare and were often called “bankers hot rods.” They were called that because they were usually the most expensive models, making them rare because most buyers that wanted a luxurious car did not want a manual transmission and the stiffer suspension that came with better handling.

My one job that evening was to hang around “my” car and scare off any potential suitors that came along. This is another huge auction mistake: already thinking the car is yours. When you get this possessive, you get it in your head that these people are trying to steal your car! You find yourself loudly making comments like, “imagine trying to park that thing!” and “I wouldn’t want to pay to fill that gas tank!”

This is why a lot of auctions — although not at the Audrain — give out free drinks! After two or three shots, you’re now the jealous drunk at the strip club trying to keep the guys away from “your” girl! This is why some cars at auction go for crazy money: it’s because of guys like me who, for whatever reason, convince themselves they’ve got to have it. The worst part is sitting there with your auction catalogue waiting while the auctioneer is on lot 16 and your car is lot 86! How long is this gonna take?

As I sat there, I couldn’t figure out why I wanted this thing. I was 17 when this car was new and to my then 17-year-old brain, this is what success looked like. A giant convertible with a huge agricultural looking gear shift lever sticking out of the floor.

As I Googled my time away through lots 26 to 61, I found out this behemoth was a lot lighter than I thought. I figured the car would weigh about 5,000 pounds, but I was surprised to read it was listed as between 3,700 and 4,000 pounds. It weighed less than my new carbon fiber Mustang GTD! How could that be?

I worked out it was because of the complete absence of any safety equipment of any kind. No air bag. No steel door guard beams. No energy absorbing bumpers. It’s just a 215-inch beer can rolling down the road. When the bidding started, I realized nobody else seemed to want the car, and I got it for $52,000. Which I figure was a lot less than the cost of the restoration.

There is an old saying in the car world: if you restore a car properly, you’re gonna lose money on it. That’s why they say only do the parts you can see — paint, chrome, etc. This point was driven home to me when I got the car back to my shop and discovered that the dash lights and gauges didn’t work. When we removed the dash pad, we discovered that all the wires had been cut and bundled up with zip ties to keep them out of the way.

That’s ok, I’m still glad I bought it, and I’ve now done a few upgrades. I removed the dopey spotlights and the chrome front end and returned it to its stock body color. One major improvement we made was to replace the Muncie 4-speed transmission with a Tremec Magnum 6-speed. This is a fabulous transmission that I also put in my 1962 Maserati.

The fun part about this car is that everything is available. We here at the shop are used to working on oddball stuff where everything has to be fabricated. Thanks to a company called American Powertrain, who work closely with Tremec, everything was available. We had to do a little cutting and trimming to the transmission tunnel, but everything fit together perfectly. I can’t tell you how great it is to receive something that’s exactly as advertised, and it all fits together.

We also added a hydraulic clutch. This 6-speed keeps the 3.42:1 rear end, which was the performance ratio to avoid running out of revs at high speed. As much as I like the European exotics in my garage, nothing brings a bigger smile to my face than good old American horsepower.