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Yahoo
5 days ago
- Automotive
- Yahoo
Forgotten Muscle Cars That Deserve a Comeback
Big engines. Bold looks. Burnout energy. You might not have forgotten them, but the industry sure has. If you came of age during the golden era of muscle, these cars probably live rent-free in your head. Maybe you drove one. Perhaps you dreamed of one. Either way, you remember. But if your entry point was Fast & Furious or modern machines, these names might not even register. Louder rivals overshadowed some. Others vanished with defunct brands. A few didn't stick around long enough to become household names. This isn't a list of total obscurities. Some are icons, but icons that the modern auto industry has left behind. No one's building a new Rebel Machine or Rallye 350. That's why we're here. We're not saying enthusiasts forgot them—we sure didn't. But the manufacturers did, and it's time they remembered. Here at Guessing Headlights, we know that defining a 'muscle car' is practically a contact sport. So let's set the record straight before the inbox fills up with Boomers and purists waving spec sheets: We define a muscle car as a two-door, rear-wheel-drive vehicle built for straight-line speed, featuring a large, torquey engine. Handling? Optional. Subtlety? Not required. If it made more noise than finesse, and more rubber smoke than lap records, it's on the table. This list isn't about splitting hairs. It's about bringing back the kind of cars that made people fall in love with driving in the first place, whether they were headline grabbers or weird side projects. T-tops, attitude, and a whole lot of Firebird energy. Let's be honest, this one barely qualifies as 'forgotten.' Smokey and the Bandit essentially transformed the Trans Am into a cultural icon. Around here, we've got one staffer who won't shut up about how cool T-tops were and how GM should've never let the Firebird go extinct. So really, we're including this one because if we didn't, we'd never hear the end of it. Still, it's been far too long since Pontiac gave us a new Trans Am. That bird deserves to fly again and not just as an aftermarket Camaro conversion. Why it's forgotten: It lived in the shadow of the Mustang and Camaro and faded with the decline of Pontiac itself. How we'd bring it back: A new Trans Am with a naturally aspirated V8, T-tops, a shaker hood, and retro Firebird graphics. Loud, fast, and unapologetically over the top. The sleeper that roared. With 510 lb-ft of torque and a luxury badge, the GSX was the muscle car equivalent of a linebacker in a tuxedo. It outperformed the competition while offering air conditioning and refinement. Why it's forgotten: Buick faded into soft-luxury territory and distanced itself from high-performance badges. How we'd bring it back: Rear-drive, V8-powered, and smooth as glass—think big torque with zero pretension. A muscle car that can wear a sports coat. Classy muscle with a chip on its shoulder. This Mustang cousin packed serious heat in Eliminator trim, with Boss 302 and 428 Cobra Jet options, yet it never got the spotlight. Why it's forgotten: Mercury faded from the scene, and the Cougar was always seen as a softer Mustang. How we'd bring it back: Build it off a Mustang GT chassis, give it its own attitude, and let it speak softly while carrying a really big V8. Pure American lunacy in red, white, and blue. A one-year-only riot with a 390 V8 and outrageous graphics. It looked like a parade float and hit like a freight train. Why it's forgotten: AMC's collapse took its legacy with it. How we'd bring it back: Loud colors, bold styling, and a 400+ hp engine with a 4-speed manual. Skip the touchscreen—give it a giant tach and a rowdy exhaust. Before the Charger took the spotlight, this was Dodge's muscle cruiser. The Magnum GT was big, brawny, and soaked in NASCAR swagger, with available 440-cubic-inch power. Why it's forgotten: It got lost in the malaise era and was overshadowed by newer Mopars. How we'd bring it back: Give it a two-door fastback body, retro aero nose, and the same powerplants that make Challengers so dangerous. This time, make it stick. Yellow paint, big noise, and zero chill. The Rallye 350 was flashy, affordable muscle with a unique look and a 310 hp small-block, without needing a big-block budget. Why it's forgotten: It only lasted a year and wasn't the fastest Olds around. How we'd bring it back: Body-colored bumpers, bright paint, and an LS-based V8 with a 4-speed manual. Loud in every way that counts. Lean, mean, and plenty quick. The Duster 340 used its featherweight size and small-block punch to become a street sleeper that didn't need flash to be fast. Why it's forgotten: Its compact roots and Plymouth's demise made it easy to overlook. How we'd bring it back: Lightweight, manual, and rear-drive. Give it a proper 340 tribute engine and keep the interior bare-bones. The less tech, the better. Big displacement, bigger attitude. Ford's dragstrip special packed 429 cubic inches of fury into a long, aggressive body built for quarter-mile dominance. Why it's forgotten: Too big for collectors and too rare for mainstream fame. How we'd bring it back: Fastback profile, 7-liter big-block revival, and retro Cobra graphics. Bring back the 'Cobra Jet' name with pride. Aero-tested, race-bred, and mostly forgotten. With NASCAR-inspired curves and V8 power, the Laguna S-3 looked ready for Talladega right off the showroom floor. Why it's forgotten: Born during the performance drop-off years and lost among Chevelle legends. How we'd bring it back: Retro aero body, wide stance, and an option for a 454 big-block. The kind of street car that could lap the competition—if you had the gas money. Compact car. Sinister name. Serious punch. The Dart-based Demon 340 was a budget-friendly, loud, and fast vehicle. It had all the essentials—plus devilish branding. Why it's forgotten: Overshadowed by the modern Hellcat Demon and its short original run. How we'd bring it back: Small, light, mean. Drop in a 392, give it a stick, and sell it cheap enough to scare the neighbors. Personal luxury, powered by brute force. These massive cruisers weren't sports cars, but with 460 cubic inches of Detroit iron, they had the muscle car swagger, just with more opera windows. Why it's forgotten: Too luxurious for muscle status, too heavy for drag bragging. How we'd bring it back: Take a Mustang GT chassis, stretch it, and load it with chrome and leather. Give it the biggest V8 in Ford's catalog and let it cruise in style. We not exactly a muscle car. But come on, just look at it. Is it a truck? A car? A street rod? All of the above? Whatever it is, it's cool. The SSR served up retro-styled fenders inspired by classic Chevy pickups, a power-retractable hardtop, and eventually a 6.0-liter V8 that actually made it haul. That's already two-thirds of a burnout recipe—the rest is just a heavy right foot. Sure, it was weird. But weird with style. Give it big tires, a proper manual, and an engine that snarls, and we'd be thrilled to take it out on a summer night—top down, music up, and playing Guessing Headlights as all the cool rides roll by. Why it's forgotten: It was too weird, too heavy, and ahead of its time. How we'd bring it back: Make it lighter, meaner, and give it an LS7 with a manual option. Turn it into the retro rod it always wanted to be—complete with a pickup bed. The golden era of muscle wasn't just about horsepower—it was about swagger. Big engines. Big looks. Big noise. These machines may not fit every purist's definition, but they embody the heart of what muscle cars meant: raw, thrilling, unmistakably American fun. No batteries. No fake engine noises. Just revs, rubber, and rear-wheel drive. Let's bring it all back.
San Francisco Chronicle
21-05-2025
- Automotive
- San Francisco Chronicle
The navigator is blind and the driver's in pain, but they're racing though France, busting barriers
PARIS (AP) — The driver's joints are so painful from rheumatoid arthritis that she can't manage a stick shift. And the co-pilot who is helping to guide her through France as the navigator is blind, her sight snatched away by a brain tumor five years ago that stole her career as a photographer. All the more reason, the two friends figure, for them to proudly show how capable they are by taking part in a women-only cross-country vintage car race from Paris to the Mediterranean. Saint-Tropez, here come Merete Buljo and Tonje Thoresen. 'Making the impossible possible!' is the motto the Norwegian women adopted for their adventure this week. They like to think of themselves as successors — minus the crimes — of 'Thelma & Louise,' the heroines of Ridley Scott's 1991 movie of female emancipation and the joys and perils of the open road. "That is us!' said Buljo, the driver. For the race, they even hunted for the same car that Susan Sarandon and Geena Davis' characters drove off a cliff. 'When we were looking for a car we thought, 'Oh, a Ford Thunderbird. It would just be perfect!'' Thoresen said. Two blind navigators Thoresen is one of two blind navigators in the five-day Princesses Rally that roared off Sunday from Paris. Juliette Lepage, blind from birth, is the other, navigating a 1977 MG. Rallies are long-distance road races, typically with stages and checkpoints. Without sight, Thoresen says her other senses are working overtime on the roads of springtime France: The smells of flowers and vegetation and of farming in the fields; the sharp chill of tunnels they whizz through. And the orchestra of vintage engines — some throaty, others purring — racing down back-country roads. That's music to the ears for petrol-heads like Thoresen, who says she can identify some cars just by their sounds and when they're developing mechanical problems. 'I'm passionate about those sounds. It gives me adrenaline," she said. The Firebird fails Thoresen was incredulous when Buljo proposed that they enter the rally together. 'I said, 'What? But I'm blind!' And she said, 'Yeah. And so what?'' Thoresen recounted. 'She's very much like, 'We can do everything — everything that is impossible is possible to do.'' Unfortunately, the 1990 Pontiac Firebird they planned to drive couldn't keep pace with their ambition. It has an automatic gearbox — easier with the arthritis that Buljo has battled since childhood. 'Because of my legs, I can't drive a normal gearbox. I also have some problems with my hands, so I can't be on the gearbox all the time,' she said. 'For me, driving has always been so very important for my freedom because I always have, more or less, pain in my legs, my knees, my ankles, everything.' But the car broke down a week before the start. They had to fall back on a last-minute modern replacement that's ineligible for the rally, which is open only to cars built between 1946 and 1991. Still, organizers allowed them to come along for the ride, with the competitors, and keep their race name: Team Valkyries, drawn from powerful female figures in Norse mythology. Beating shame Having secured sponsors and crowd funding, Buljo and Thoresen didn't want their efforts to go to waste. They're using this rally as training, figuring out together how Thoresen can help navigate the route and its checkpoints, even though she can't see it. Participants aren't allowed to use GPS navigational aids and Thoresen hasn't yet learned Braille, which Lepage, the other blind navigator, uses to read and give directions. But Thoresen says she's become as reliable as London's Big Ben at measuring the passage of time, so can advise when it's the right moment to make a turn. And Buljo says she's able to memorize route notes. 'I have an inside map and Tonje has an inside clock, so we make a great team," she said. "We wanted to also show that it's very important to not be ashamed of your handicap," Thoresen said. 'It's very important to kind of be proud of the competences that you still have and to dare to do stuff.'
Winnipeg Free Press
21-05-2025
- Automotive
- Winnipeg Free Press
The navigator is blind and the driver's in pain, but they're racing though France, busting barriers
PARIS (AP) — The driver's joints are so painful from rheumatoid arthritis that she can't manage a stick shift. And the co-pilot who is helping to guide her through France as the navigator is blind, her sight snatched away by a brain tumor five years ago that stole her career as a photographer. All the more reason, the two friends figure, for them to proudly show how capable they are by taking part in a women-only cross-country vintage car race from Paris to the Mediterranean. Saint-Tropez, here come Merete Buljo and Tonje Thoresen. 'Making the impossible possible!' is the motto the Norwegian women adopted for their adventure this week. They like to think of themselves as successors — minus the crimes — of 'Thelma & Louise,' the heroines of Ridley Scott's 1991 movie of female emancipation and the joys and perils of the open road. 'That is us!' said Buljo, the driver. For the race, they even hunted for the same car that Susan Sarandon and Geena Davis' characters drove off a cliff. 'When we were looking for a car we thought, 'Oh, a Ford Thunderbird. It would just be perfect!'' Thoresen said. Two blind navigators Thoresen is one of two blind navigators in the five-day Princesses Rally that roared off Sunday from Paris. Juliette Lepage, blind from birth, is the other, navigating a 1977 MG. Rallies are long-distance road races, typically with stages and checkpoints. Without sight, Thoresen says her other senses are working overtime on the roads of springtime France: The smells of flowers and vegetation and of farming in the fields; the sharp chill of tunnels they whizz through. And the orchestra of vintage engines — some throaty, others purring — racing down back-country roads. That's music to the ears for petrol-heads like Thoresen, who says she can identify some cars just by their sounds and when they're developing mechanical problems. 'I'm passionate about those sounds. It gives me adrenaline,' she said. The Firebird fails Thoresen was incredulous when Buljo proposed that they enter the rally together. 'I said, 'What? But I'm blind!' And she said, 'Yeah. And so what?'' Thoresen recounted. 'She's very much like, 'We can do everything — everything that is impossible is possible to do.'' Unfortunately, the 1990 Pontiac Firebird they planned to drive couldn't keep pace with their ambition. It has an automatic gearbox — easier with the arthritis that Buljo has battled since childhood. 'Because of my legs, I can't drive a normal gearbox. I also have some problems with my hands, so I can't be on the gearbox all the time,' she said. 'For me, driving has always been so very important for my freedom because I always have, more or less, pain in my legs, my knees, my ankles, everything.' But the car broke down a week before the start. They had to fall back on a last-minute modern replacement that's ineligible for the rally, which is open only to cars built between 1946 and 1991. Still, organizers allowed them to come along for the ride, with the competitors, and keep their race name: Team Valkyries, drawn from powerful female figures in Norse mythology. Beating shame Having secured sponsors and crowd funding, Buljo and Thoresen didn't want their efforts to go to waste. Wednesdays A weekly look towards a post-pandemic future. They're using this rally as training, figuring out together how Thoresen can help navigate the route and its checkpoints, even though she can't see it. Participants aren't allowed to use GPS navigational aids and Thoresen hasn't yet learned Braille, which Lepage, the other blind navigator, uses to read and give directions. But Thoresen says she's become as reliable as London's Big Ben at measuring the passage of time, so can advise when it's the right moment to make a turn. And Buljo says she's able to memorize route notes. 'I have an inside map and Tonje has an inside clock, so we make a great team,' she said. Besides, simply getting from Point A to Point B was never their priority. 'We wanted to also show that it's very important to not be ashamed of your handicap,' Thoresen said. 'It's very important to kind of be proud of the competences that you still have and to dare to do stuff.'
Fox Sports
21-05-2025
- Automotive
- Fox Sports
The navigator is blind and the driver's in pain, but they're racing though France, busting barriers
Associated Press PARIS (AP) — The driver's joints are so painful from rheumatoid arthritis that she can't manage a stick shift. And the co-pilot who is helping to guide her through France as the navigator is blind, her sight snatched away by a brain tumor five years ago that stole her career as a photographer. All the more reason, the two friends figure, for them to proudly show how capable they are by taking part in a women-only cross-country vintage car race from Paris to the Mediterranean. Saint-Tropez, here come Merete Buljo and Tonje Thoresen. 'Making the impossible possible!' is the motto the Norwegian women adopted for their adventure this week. They like to think of themselves as successors — minus the crimes — of 'Thelma & Louise,' the heroines of Ridley Scott's 1991 movie of female emancipation and the joys and perils of the open road. "That is us!' said Buljo, the driver. For the race, they even hunted for the same car that Susan Sarandon and Geena Davis' characters drove off a cliff. 'When we were looking for a car we thought, 'Oh, a Ford Thunderbird. It would just be perfect!'' Thoresen said. Two blind navigators Thoresen is one of two blind navigators in the five-day Princesses Rally that roared off Sunday from Paris. Juliette Lepage, blind from birth, is the other, navigating a 1977 MG. Rallies are long-distance road races, typically with stages and checkpoints. Without sight, Thoresen says her other senses are working overtime on the roads of springtime France: The smells of flowers and vegetation and of farming in the fields; the sharp chill of tunnels they whizz through. And the orchestra of vintage engines — some throaty, others purring — racing down back-country roads. That's music to the ears for petrol-heads like Thoresen, who says she can identify some cars just by their sounds and when they're developing mechanical problems. 'I'm passionate about those sounds. It gives me adrenaline," she said. The Firebird fails Thoresen was incredulous when Buljo proposed that they enter the rally together. 'I said, 'What? But I'm blind!' And she said, 'Yeah. And so what?'' Thoresen recounted. 'She's very much like, 'We can do everything — everything that is impossible is possible to do.'' Unfortunately, the 1990 Pontiac Firebird they planned to drive couldn't keep pace with their ambition. It has an automatic gearbox — easier with the arthritis that Buljo has battled since childhood. 'Because of my legs, I can't drive a normal gearbox. I also have some problems with my hands, so I can't be on the gearbox all the time,' she said. 'For me, driving has always been so very important for my freedom because I always have, more or less, pain in my legs, my knees, my ankles, everything.' But the car broke down a week before the start. They had to fall back on a last-minute modern replacement that's ineligible for the rally, which is open only to cars built between 1946 and 1991. Still, organizers allowed them to come along for the ride, with the competitors, and keep their race name: Team Valkyries, drawn from powerful female figures in Norse mythology. Beating shame Having secured sponsors and crowd funding, Buljo and Thoresen didn't want their efforts to go to waste. They're using this rally as training, figuring out together how Thoresen can help navigate the route and its checkpoints, even though she can't see it. Participants aren't allowed to use GPS navigational aids and Thoresen hasn't yet learned Braille, which Lepage, the other blind navigator, uses to read and give directions. But Thoresen says she's become as reliable as London's Big Ben at measuring the passage of time, so can advise when it's the right moment to make a turn. And Buljo says she's able to memorize route notes. 'I have an inside map and Tonje has an inside clock, so we make a great team," she said. Besides, simply getting from Point A to Point B was never their priority. "We wanted to also show that it's very important to not be ashamed of your handicap," Thoresen said. 'It's very important to kind of be proud of the competences that you still have and to dare to do stuff.' in this topic
Boston Globe
11-05-2025
- Automotive
- Boston Globe
William L. Porter, designer of classic American cars, dies at 93
The Pontiac GTO model produced in 1968 and 1969, with its endless hood and smooth, tapering back -- its 'monocoque shell form with elliptical pressure bulges over the wheels,' as Mr. Porter put it in an interview in 2000 -- was one of his signature creations. Get Starting Point A guide through the most important stories of the morning, delivered Monday through Friday. Enter Email Sign Up GM made him chief designer at what it called the Pontiac 1 Studio in 1968, and he held that position until 1972, before going on to other senior design positions. In the early 1970s, he directed the design of the company's LeMans, Catalina, and Bonneville cars, which had tapering forms with jutting trunks, in keeping with his aesthetic. Advertisement 'I was taken with a plainer, curvaceous look featuring long, muscular shapes based on elliptical vocabulary,' Mr. Porter, a connoisseur and collector of American design, including Tiffany glass and Arts and Crafts furniture, said in an interview with Hot Rod magazine in 2007. Advertisement Kevin Kirbitz, president of the Society of Automotive Historians and a senior manager at GM, said in an interview: 'It comes down to his understanding of shapes and curvature and lines. He had the ability to look at a curve and realize it had to have a certain proportion over the length of it.' Mr. Porter was drawn to what he called 'organic shapes,' or those found in nature, that would have subliminal resonance for the beholder (or buyer) of a car. 'He would talk about the roundness of the bean,' said Kirbitz, who knew Mr. Porter well, and also about 'naturally occurring curves.' The 1970-73 Firebird and the Firebird Trans Am, the quintessential American muscle car, also bore Mr. Porter's stamp: They were sportier than the GTO, with a more compact back end but a similar elongated hood. With the Firebirds, Mr. Porter said, he was 'consciously trying to create an important American sports car.' Mr. Porter's training in art history gave him an aesthetic conception of the car that was unusual at a major American automaker. 'When you open the door of the Firebird, there is -- I would like to think -- a subliminal sense of the unity of the interior and exterior. That had never been done before,' Mr. Porter said in the 2000 interview. 'There was a sense of the total car, being in it, and having things fall to hand, located in the right places.' He paid acute attention to detail, something he learned from mentors among the general managers at GM. He praised one of them, in a post on his website, for being the sort who could spot 'a bump in a line that was maybe a millimeter high.' Advertisement Mr. Porter was particularly proud of a detail he designed for the hood of the Trans Am: 'a pair of highly effective Ram Air scoops that were placed in the high-pressure area on the leading edge,' he said, to funnel air directly into the engine. After developing the new Firebird, Mr. Porter went on to work on the Camaro. In 1980, he became chief designer for Buick, a position he held until he retired in 1996. He worked on designs for the Park Avenue and the Riviera, boxier cars with a more imposing presence on the road. William Lee Porter was born on May 6, 1931, in Louisville, Ky. His father, William Lee Porter Sr., was the manager of the Greyhound bus station in Louisville; his mother, Ida Mae (Hampton) Porter, ran the lunchroom at a local elementary school. He received a bachelor of arts in painting and art history from the University of Louisville in 1953. After college, he served in the Army and then studied industrial design at Pratt Institute, in Brooklyn. He was hired as a summer student at GM Styling, the company's design unit, in 1957; the next year, he became a full-time employee. By the time he received his masters of arts from Pratt in 1960, he was a junior designer in the Pontiac studio. During much of his time at GM, Mr. Porter also taught a course in industrial design at Wayne State University in Detroit, encouraging students to create objects influenced by styles that fascinated him, including Arts and Crafts and Art Nouveau. In addition to his son, Mr. Porter leaves by his wife, Patsy Jane (Hambaugh) Porter; two daughters, Sarah Wilding Porter and Lydia Porter Latocki; a brother, Thomas Hampton Porter; and three grandchildren. Advertisement Mr. Porter was the rare stylist who saw a car's shape as a whole, with every individual element subordinated to, and integrated into, the overall design. 'He would talk about how one ellipse fed into another, and about how there are no true straight lines,' Kirbitz said. 'For him, the straight line was not desirable.' This article originally appeared in
