Setanta wrote: Moonshine runners of the 1940s and -50s used to drive "Fordillacs"--which means they'd get an old Ford passenger sedan, and drop a Cadillac 454 in it, so that they'd look slow and pokey, but could outrun the Revenue officers if it came to a pinch.
And thus NASCAR was born.
Seriously.
...and you pass one of those bigmobiles and look over at the driver and
can only see his head from the nose up.
The new ones are pretty nice...I could handle driving the new STS-V, with only 469 hp:
http://www.topspeed.com/cars/cadillac/cadillac-sts-v-ar11514.html
You're not going to see too many blue-heads driving one of those.
Oh yeah--Junior Johnson got his start as a moonshine runner, and that was the way for many of the early NASCAR drivers. They tended to use Cadillac engines, or the huge 427s that Ford produced for use in Lincolns because none of the American auto manufacturers were into high performance racing engines. Thanks to NASCAR, though, entire generations of such engines were produced, and at one time or another, all of the big three were into racing and had racing teams. Chrysler produced the hemispherical cylinder head for their big luxury cars--the original "hemi" was a 331 hemi, with which they hoped to produce more power for less gasoline, and thereby create a smaller engine which would haul around one of those behemoths just the way he big engines did. The "hemi" was quickly declared "superstock" to keep it off the race circuit, though, because it did develop more power, but the end result was greater torque, not fuel efficiency.
Even Studebaker got into the act, although their lackluster performance in selling family cars doomed their effort. Studebaker developed the famous 351 engine--which used new metal technology to produce a large displacement engine in a small, lighter-weight block. Ford then blatantly stole not only the engine design--the 351 Cleveland and the 351 Windsor engines became legendary on both stock car tracks and drag strips--but they even shamelessly stole the body design of the Studebaker Avanti, and produced the Mustang Mach I.
I used ta be a gear head in my younger days . . .
I fell in love with Mr. B on a starry Oklahoma night while we cruised around in a car just like this....
Well, you've heard the story of the hot rod race,
When the Ford and the Mercury were settin' the pace.
That story's true I'm here to say,
Cause I was a'drivin' that Model A.
It's got a Lincoln motor and it's really souped up;
That Model A body makes it look like a pup.
It's got 12 cylinders and uses them all;
And an overdrive that just won't stall.
It's got a 4-barrel carb and dual exhausts,
4:11 gears that really get lost -
Safety tubes and I'm not scared,
The brakes are good and the tires are fair.
We left San Pedro late one night;
The moon and the stars were shinin' bright.
We were drivin' up Grapevine Hill,
Passin' cars like they were standin' still.
Then, all of a sudden, in the wink of an eye,
a Cadillac sedan passed us by.
The remark was made, "That's the car for me."
But, by then, the taillights wuz all you could see.
Well, the fellers ribbed me for bein' behind,
So I started to make that Lincoln unwind.
Took my foot off the gas and, man alive,
I shoved it down into overdrive.
Well, I wound it up to 110;
Twisted the speedometer cable right off the end.
Had my foot glued right to the floor;
I said, "That's all there is - there ain't no more."
Now the fellas thought I'd lost all sense;
The telephone poles looked like a picket fence.
They said, "Slow down, I see spots."
The lines on the road just looked like dots.
Went around a corner and passed a truck;
I crossed my fingers just for luck -
The fenders clickin' the guard rail post;
The guy beside me was white as a ghost.
Smoke was rollin' outta the back
When I started to gain on that Cadillac
I knew I could catch him and hoped I could pass
But when I did I'd be short on gas.
There were flames comin' from out of the side;
You could feel the tension; man, what a ride.
I said, "Look out, boys, I've got a license to fly"
And the Cadillac pulled over and let me by.
All of a sudden a rod started knockin';
Down in the depths she started a rockin'.
I looked in the mirror and a red light was blinkin';
The cops was after my Hot Rod Lincoln.
Well they arrested me and put me in jail.
I called my pop to make my bail.
He said, "Son, you're gonna drive me t' drinkin',
If you don't quit drivin' that - Hot ... Rod ... Lincoln!"
Maybellene, why can't you be true?
Oh Maybellene, why can't you be true?
You've started back doing the things you used to do.
As I was motivatin' over the hill
I saw Maybellene in a Coup de Ville.
A Cadillac a-rollin' on the open road,
Nothin' will outrun my V8 Ford.
The cadillac doin' 'bout ninety-five,
She's bumper to bumber rollin' side by side.
Maybellene, why can't you be true?
Oh Maybellene, why can't you be true?
You've started back doing the things you used to do.
Peek in the mirror on top of the hill,
it's just like swallowin' up a medicine pill.
First thing I saw that Cadillac grille
Doin' a hundred and ten gallopin' over that hill.
Offhill curve, a downhill stretch,
Me and that Cadillac neck by neck.
Maybellene, why can't you be true?
Oh Maybellene, why can't you be true?
You've started back doing the things you used to do.
The Cadillac pulled up ahead of the Ford,
The Ford got hot and wouldn't do no more.
It then got cloudy and it started to rain,
I tooted my horn for a passin' lane
The rain water blowin' all under my hood,
I knew that was doin' my motor good.
Maybellene, why can't you be true?
Oh Maybellene, why can't you be true?
You've started back doing the things you used to do.
The motor cooled down, the heat went down
And that's when I heard that highway sound.
The Cadillac a-sittin' like a ton of lead
A hundred and ten a half a mile ahead.
The Cadillac lookin' like it's sittin' still
And I caught Maybellene at the top of the hill.
Maybellene, why can't you be true?
Oh Maybellene, why can't you be true?
You've started back doing the things you used to do.
The little old lady from Pasadena
Go granny, go granny, go granny go
Has a pretty little flower bed of white gardenias
Go granny, go granny, go granny go
But parked in her rickety old garage
Is a brand new shiny red Super Stock Dodge
And everybody's saying that there's nobody meaner
Than the little old lady from Pasadena
She drives real fast and she drives real hard
She's the terror of Colorado Boulevard
It's the little old lady from Pasadena
If you see her on the street don't try to choose her
Go granny, go granny, go granny go
You might drive a goer but you'll never lose her
Go granny, go granny, go granny go
Well, she's gonna get a ticket now sooner or later
'Cause she can't keep her foot off the accelerator
And everybody's saying that there's nobody meaner
Than the little old lady from Pasadena
She drives real fast and she drives real hard
She's a terror of Colorado Boulevard
It's the little old lady from Pasadena
cho: Beep beep (beep beep),
Beep beep (beep beep),
His horn went beep beep beep (beep beep).
While riding in my Cadillac, what to my surprise,
A little Nash Rambler was following me, about one-third my size.
The guy must have wanted to pass me out
As he kept on tooting his horn (beep beep).
I'll show him that a Cadillac is not a car to scorn.
cho:
I pushed my foot down to the floor to give the guy the shake,
But the little Nash Rambler stayed right behind, he still had
on his brake.
He must have thought his car had more guts,
As he kept on tooting his horn (beep beep).
I'll show him that a Cadillac is not a car to scorn.
cho:
My car went in to passing gear and we took off with gust,
And soon we were doing ninety, must have left him in the dust.
When I peeked in the mirror of my car, I couldn't believe my eyes.
The little Nash Rambler was right behind, you'd think that
guy could fly.
cho:
Now we're doing a hundred and ten, it certainly was a race,
For a Rambler to pass a Caddy would be a big disgrace.
The guy must have wanted to pass me out as he kept on tooting his horn.
I'll show him that a Cadillac is not a car to scorn.
cho:
Now we're doing a hundred and twenty, as fast as I could go.
The Rambler pulled alongside of me as if we were going slow.
The fellow rolled his window down and yelled for me to hear:
"Hey, buddy, how can I get this car out of second gear?"
While riding in my Cadillac, what to my surprise,
A little Nash Rambler was following me, about one-third my size.
The guy must have wanted to pass me out
As he kept on tooting his horn (beep beep).
I'll show him that a Cadillac is not a car to scorn.
Beep beep,
Beep beep,
His horn went beep beep beep
I pushed my foot down to the floor to give the guy the shake,
But the little Nash Rambler stayed right behind, he still had on his brake.
He must have thought his car had more guts,
As he kept on tooting his horn (beep beep).
I'll show him that a Cadillac is not a car to scorn.
Beep beep,
Beep beep,
His horn went beep beep beep
My car went in to passing gear and we took off with gust,
And soon we were doing ninety, must have left him in the dust.
When I peeked in the mirror of my car, I couldn't believe my eyes.
The little Nash Rambler was right behind, you'd think that guy could fly.
Beep beep,
Beep beep,
His horn went beep beep beep
Now we're doing a hundred and ten, it certainly was a race,
For a Rambler to pass a Caddy would be a big disgrace.
The guy must have wanted to pass me out as he kept on tooting his horn.
I'll show him that a Cadillac is not a car to scorn.
Beep beep,
Beep beep,
His horn went beep beep beep
Now we're doing a hundred and twenty, as fast as I could go.
The Rambler pulled alongside of me as if we were going slow.
The fellow rolled his window down and yelled for me to hear:
"Hey, buddy, how can I get this car out of second gear?"
Great minds run on the same course, George . . .
Now Daddy ran the whiskey in a big block Dodge
Bought it at an auction at the Mason's Lodge
Johnson County Sheriff painted on the side
Just shot a coat of primer then he looked inside
Well him and my uncle tore that engine down
I still remember that rumblin' sound
Well the sheriff came around in the middle of the night
Heard mama cryin', knew something wasn't right
He was headed down to Knoxville with the weekly load
You could smell the whiskey burnin' down Copperhead Road.
Let me tell the story
I can tell it all
Bout the mountain boy
Who ran illegal alcohol
He left the road at 90
That's all there is to say
The devil got the moonshine
And the mountain boy that day
Thunder
Thunder Road
Setanta wrote:
"I'll show him that a Cadillac is not a car to scorn."
Where's the door handles??
Cool car though.
I like that red one boomerang posted a picture of. How much are they to buy? I want one.
Dorothy Parker wrote:Setanta wrote:
"I'll show him that a Cadillac is not a car to scorn."
Where's the door handles??
Cool car though.
I like that red one boomerang posted a picture of. How much are they to buy? I want one.
that caddy has been chopped and leaded, the door is probably opened by a switch under the front wheel well.
I have a 1980 chevy stepside pickup I'm working on right now, it also has shaved door handles and a chopped roof. It's in a warehouse covered in dust(even though it has a new paint job), I'll post pictures once it's dusted off. The button for the door is under the lip of the bed above the "step." They also make remotes for them now too.
