The Pontiac Tempest is known for its tumultuous 400-cubic-inch V8, for spewing clouds of atomized rubber and partially combusted gasoline, for altering weather patterns and generally being a kick-ass muscle car. But it started life as a funky little economy car created by the legendary John DeLorean.

I had no idea the first-generation Tempest (1961-63) existed until I spied one for sale a few blocks from my house. The red ragtop was in sorry shape. Paint shot, trim pieces missing, holes in its top. Still, there was something about it. It had gorgeous lines and good proportions.

When I hit Wikipedia later that day, I realized the little convertible was far more sophisticated and, well, wacky than I had ever imagined. At first glance it looks to be like any other mid-60s compact—likely driven by a straight six backed with a two-speed slushbox. But the Tempest’s drivetrain is unique. Very unique.

The Tempest was one of John DeLorean’s earliest projects. Thus, it was innovative. It’s powered by quite possibly the wonkiest American engine ever, the Tropy 4. The 195-cubic-inch (3.2-liter) straight four mill is basically half a 389 V8. The engine made between 110 and 140 horsepower, depending on carb options. It was frugal, but earned the name “Hay Bailer” due to its rough and raucous nature.

Thankfully, things get much better as you move aft of the engine bay. The Tempest is equipped with a flexible driveshaft known as the “rope drive.” This meant the floor was flat—no transmission tunnel. The rope drive was connected to a two-speed automatic transaxle at the rear, giving the early Tempest 50/50 weight distribution. To top it all off, the car was equipped with four-wheel independent suspension.

In ’61 and ’62, customers could spec the Tempest with Buick’s aluminum 215 c.u. V8. The engine produced up to 215 horsepower and weighed just 330 pounds. In ’63, Pontiac pulled out the big guns, offering the 326 V8 (actually a 336, but marketed as a 326). That engine produced 260 hp and 352 ft-lbs of torque. To cope with the extra power, the car’s autobox was beefed up and the transaxle was revamped to improve handling. Just 3,600 Tempests got the 215 and probably no more than 5,000 got the 326.

The first-generation Tempest is one of the least-appreciated American rides out there. It was an ingenious little car packed with many features that still aren’t standard on modern cars. If you’re looking for a quirky classic car, the first-generation Tempest should be on your list.

UPDATE: Jim Brennan of Hooniverse spied this gorgeous ’62 Tempest Convertible showing off in a local parking lot. It wears a paint color I’ve never seen before and is probably the best-restored Tempest on the road. Check it out.

1968-1972 marked some of the coolest years for auto racing in the United States. You see that was when Trans Am racing was in full swing with pony cars from every American manufacturer battling it out on raceways throughout the country. Names like Donohue, Penske, Elford, and Jones were in the spotlight with Camaros, Mustangs, Cudas and Javelins running fender to fender. Back then race teams would open up wheel housings and flare fenders so as to fit some big rubber to their cars for better performance. The cars looked great, had a nice squat stance and in the end, turned out to be icons of American racing. Nowadays pro-touring hobbyists are harnessing the spirit of Trans Am racing by modifying classic and modern cars alike with some cool wide body stances from the racers of yesteryear. They look great, perform even better and at the end of the day, remind us of one of the greatest times in American road racing history.

• Classic Design Concepts 2010 Dodge Challenger

• 1969 Chevrolet Camaro Z/28

• Datsun 240Z

• 2002 Chevrolet Camaro

• 1964 Pontiac GTO

• JBA Dominator Ford Mustang

• 1970 Chevrolet “NASCAR” Nova

• RTR-X Mustang

• 1965 Ford Mustang

• 1981 Chevrolet “Greenwood” Corvette

Kid’s these days, I tell ya. This is the Auto Union E-Tron Concept racer by Audi. It was made for kids. Really rich kids.

The Auto Union Type C was a triumph of Teutonic technology, an aluminum bullet powered by a mid-mounted, 520-horsepower supercharged, 32-valve V-16. The thing had so much torque that drivers could easily induce wheel spin at 150 miles per hour with a slight blip of the throttle. Top speed? 211. And remember, this was 1936.

The Type C dominated Gran Prix races until all hell broke lose during WWII. By the end of the war, much was changed and the original Auto Union faded away. Images of the mighty Type C, however, endure.

In fact, if you’re a little rich kid, you can buy a pedal car reproduction of the Type C from Audi for just $15,900. But it gets better. Audi have made this, an electric version of the pedal car that can hit 20 miles per hour. Makes me wish I was 8 years old.

Just look at this thing. Carbon fiber body, leather seating surfaces, milled aluminum bits everywhere. It’s a damn work of art.

Unfortunately, the E-Tron Concept Racer is just that, a concept. No plans for production. But that’s okay, because perhaps a wealthy industrialist will produce a full-size version a la the New Stratos. One can hope, anyway.

A 1938 VW Beetle. Image: Volkswagen Group

Before they were hunted to near extinction, herds of buffalo once roamed the Great Plains. Dodos were plentiful on the island of Mauritius, until an expanding human population (and their domesticated animals) proved who was higher up on the food chain. The passenger pigeon used to fly with up to two billion of it’s closest friends, in flocks that stretched to a mile wide and 300 miles long. Dinosaurs once roamed the planet, too, and we all know how it turned out for them.

Like the passenger pigeon, flocks of VW Beetles once roamed the roads of this great land. Sadly (or not), they’re all but extinct today, killed off by newer, faster and more resilient species. Evolution in cars, like evolution in animals, is inevitable, and today’s best-seller is tomorrow’s back of the lot, discounted special. Below are five cars that I grew up turning wrenches on, that you once would have seen on every block in America. Today, you’ve got nearly the same odds of spotting a pterodactyl as you do of seeing one of these automotive dinosaurs; they may be gone, but they’re certainly not forgotten.

The Volkswagen Beetle

A 1973 VW Beetle. Image: IFCAR

If you were born in the 1960s or early 1970s, chances are good you either learned to drive a stick in a Beetle, owned a Beetle or knew someone who did. To call them “mechanically robust” is an understatement, since they were about as complicated as a ball peen hammer. If you had a few screwdrivers, some adjustable wrenches and even the most basic knowledge of mechanics, you could keep a Beetle running. Spare parts (and wrecker yard Beetles) were cheap and plentiful, but by the 1990s most VW Beetles had disappeared from the roads. There are still wild herds in places like southern California, but your odds of spotting one in a rust belt state lie between “slim” and “none”.

The Chrysler K Car

A late 80s Dodge Aries. Image: IFCAR

Chrysler’s first experience with bankruptcy wasn’t its 2009 filing. By the late seventies, increasing sales of Japanese imports had pirated a significant amount of business away from the big three, and poor product planning left Chrysler in a worse position than Ford or GM. Then CEO Lee Iococca was forced to ask Congress for $1.5 billion in loan guarantees, in order to avoid bankruptcy. Chrysler’s K cars, sold as the Dodge Aries and the Plymouth Reliant, were almost single-handedly responsible for saving Chrysler from extinction. In fact, the profits made from K car sales allowed Chrysler to pay off government loans ahead of schedule. That said, the K cars were hardly a triumph of design or engineering. Built to be disposable, they’re main selling points were passenger room, reasonable fuel economy and a bargain basement price. Build quality ranged from bad to to utterly horrific, but the K cars proved to be mechanically reliable and cheap to fix. Plentiful as used cars well into the 1990s, the K cars all but died off in the first half of the last decade. This may sound cold, but good riddance.

The Chevrolet Impala

A fourth generation Chevy Impala.

Growing up, the full size Chevy Impala was the standard-issue family car. If your folks didn’t own one, chances are that you neighbor did, or some other immediate member of your family. Impalas from the late sixties and early seventies were about as durable as an armored personnel carrier; if you hit something behind the wheel of an Impala, chances are you wouldn’t be on the losing end. Behind the wheel, the Impala was roughly the size of an aircraft carrier, and handled about as well. Chevy offered a variety of engine options, ranging from the 235 cubic inch “Blue Flame” inline six up to the 454 cubic inch “Turbo Jet” V8, but most family haulers came equipped with the classic 327 cubic inch small block V8. SS variants still make the rounds on the show circuit, but plain-Jane Impalas are a rarity. The extinction was sudden, and probably related to the cost of feeding these land yachts. Seemingly overnight, the fourth and fifth generation Impalas just ceased to exist.

The Datsun B210

A mid-70s Datsun B210, minus the honeycomb wheel covers.

I’ve already billed the B210 as one of the “Uncoolest Cars Of All Time”, but I’ll show it some love here. For tens of thousands of drivers, it represented cheap and reliable transportation, usually as a first car. If you kept up with the bare minimal amount of maintenance, the B210 could be kept running indefinitely, as long as you never drove it outside. Tinworm killed off the B210, just as it took the lives of many Japanese imports of the 1970s. Not nearly as prevalent in the wild as the VW Beetle, the Datsun B210 still had a significant place in the history of the economy car, and it helped solidify Nissan’s presence in the U.S. market.

The Dodge Dart / Plymouth Valiant

An early '70s Plymouth Valiant. Image: IFCAR

If your family didn’t have enough members to justify owning an Impala, chances are they owned a Plymouth Valiant or a Dodge Dart. I can all but guarantee some of your neighbors did, because the midsize Chrysler was built in about a dozen different variants. There were Valiant sedans, Valiant coupes, Valiant wagons and Valiant convertibles. There were even performance versions, like the Plymouth Duster 340 and the Dodge Dart Demon 340. They were rare birds back in the day, but the four door Valiants with Chrysler’s slant six engine were everywhere. Like the Impala, I think the mass die-off of the Valiant / Dart was part of some vast conspiracy, almost as if the NHTSA said, “these need to go away”. Maybe there’s hope that a long forgotten warehouse is packed full of late sixties and early seventies Darts and Valiants, but I’m not the guy to start looking for it.

After WWII there was a great and wonderful sense of optimism in the United States. We had just conquered one of the greatest threats in history and looked longingly to the future to bring us new technologies and good fortune. Futurists would tell us about the cars and homes of tomorrow, and painted a picture of a “Jetsons” society, where we’d all have flying cars and live in anti-gravity environments. Well, things didn’t exactly work out that way now did they, but that’s not to say we haven’t made remarkable advancements in technology. Thankfully, we’re still all rolling around on four-wheels, and our gas stoves still operate the same way they did 60 years ago. Back in 1948 car builders had turned their attention to the aircraft industry for inspiration. Fins, riveted sheet metal bodies and aircraft inspired cockpits ruled. Sure, now all these things seem to be hokey, but back then this was the future of transportation. As for the next 60 years… it’s honestly hard to tell. All I know is that it had better be fun…

Marcos cars are madness. All have plywood chassis modeled after the De Havilland Mosquito fighter. Most run Ford engines and various Triumph suspension bits. They are lightweight, fast, and devastating on the track.  This is the fastest, most mental Marcos ever made. It’s the Mantis XP, a mid-engine monster powered by a 700-horsepower BRM-Repco V8 and styled by the brilliant Adams Brothers.

Source: Blenheim Cars

The Mantis XP is positively breathtaking. The sweeping body and long nose were shaped to slice through the wind. Its massive faceted perspex greenhouse glitters like a jewel. Its abrupt angles and curvaceous lines intersect to form a bizarre crystalline shape that defies all design conventions. But it works. My god, how it works.

The XP was built to conquer LeMans. The project was launched in 1968 by Marcos and was then handed over to designers/builders Dennis and Peter Adams. The two built the car in their second-story workshop, called The Forge. When they completed the chassis, they realized it wouldn’t fit in the freight elevator. They had to cut a whole in the floor of The Forge and lower it out. Thus, the Mantis XP was born.

When the car was completed, Marcos decided to run it at Spa in an endurance race. Marcos founder Jem Marsh took the driver’s seat. Then it started to rain. Hard. The XP had no seals around its perspex cockpit and soon the interior filled with water. Marsh had to pull off to have his team drill drain holes in the bottom of the car. Marcos marched on and the car went from dead last to 21st place (out of 38 cars) in just 10 laps. Marcos driver Eddie Nelson spun the XP soon afterward and lost five places. By that time water had infiltrated the distributor cap, causing bad misfiring. Because Marcos had only one (very expensive) engine, they decided to drop out of the race. But so did a third of all other entries.

Marsh tolk the XP home and swapped the expensive F-1 engine for a Buick V8. Legend has it that he made runs to the local market in the outrageous car.

The XP was purchased by a private collector and was recently given a full restoration. It appeared at Goodwood and has since been seen in the wild at several car shows. Today it survives as probably the penultimate example of quirky late ’60s engineering and design.

One way to keep your car safe. Image: Ihasahotdog.com

According to the latest data from the National Insurance Crime Bureau, you’re more likely to have a car stolen on New Year’s Day than on any other holiday, and New Year’s Day even trumps the average daily theft rate. The NICB just released their latest analysis of car theft rates in 2008 and 2009, and it includes a handy breakdown of theft rates per holiday. In 2009, an average of 2,276 vehicles were stolen per day in the U.S. On holidays, the theft rates were:

- New Year’s Day, 2,760 vehicles stolen
- Halloween, 2,325 vehicles stolen
- Independence Day, 2,207 vehicles stolen
- Memorial Day, 2,207 vehicles stolen
- President’s Day, 2,204 vehicles stolen
- Labor Day, 2,202 vehicles stolen
- New Year’s Eve, 2,189 vehicles stolen
- Valentine’s Day, 2,090 vehicles stolen
- Christmas Eve, 1,851 vehicles stolen
- Thanksgiving, 1,620 vehicles stolen
- Christmas Day, 1,336 vehicles stolen

I’m not really sure what you can read into this, except “don’t leave your keys in the car when you come home less than sober from a New Year’s Eve or Halloween party.” Also, you should remember to take the keys out of your car when you’re partying with friends and family on July 4th or Memorial Day.

The good news is that thefts declined from a daily average of 2,650 in 2008 to 2,276 in 2009, a reduction of nearly 15%. The highest number of 2009 thefts occurred on June 1, when 2,847 vehicles were reported stolen; the lowest number of thefts occurred on Christmas Day 2009.

Source: NICB, via Autoevolution

They made more than eight million in 28 countries and during its 31-year production run it remained essentially unchanged. It’s the Renault R4, a funky little cockroach of a car that’s loved the world over, from the steamy jungles of Colombia to the arid plains of Africa. And this year it turns 50. Bon anniversaire, R4.

Source: Gizmag

The R4 is the third best-selling car ever manufactured—after the Volkswagen bug and the Model T. In Columbia they called it “Amigo fiel” (faithful friend). In Zimbabwe it was known as the Noddy Car. In Argentina it got the name “El Correcaminos” (the Roadrunner). The ugly little bugger won the hearts of people across the globe. And that’s precisely what it was designed to do. Renault launched the R4 project in 1956 in response to the wild success of the Citroën 2CV. The R4 was made to be a car of the people, a cheap and flexible form of transportation for everyone.

The R4 was Renault’s first front-wheel-drive model. It was initially equipped with a 20-horsepower 747cc inline four, mounted in the front behind the front wheels (the transmission and differential sat above the front wheels). It had four-wheel independent suspension with torsion bars out back. The rear setup placed the bars one behind the other, giving the R4 a slightly longer wheelbase on the left-hand side. The car used body-on-frame construction, but the body played a structural role.

Renault made a ton of R4 variants, including a convertible, a van, and a 4WD version called the Sinpar.

The last R4 rolled off the assembly line in 1994. It was part of a series of 1,000 cars marked with the designation “Bye-Bye.”

Cheers, R4. Thanks for the good times.

Nothing says 'Merry Christmas' better than a 1949 Ferrari Barchetta. Photo: RM Auctions

Let’s face it: the older you get, the harder it is to be wowed by a Christmas gift. When I was a kid, an HO scale slot car track was about the best Christmas gift I could have imagined. Today, that same level of enthusiasm would require something that burns gasoline and puts out more than 400 horsepower, but unless we hit the Powerball in the next week or so, it isn’t happening this year, or next year, or the year after that. Maybe you’re in a different tax bracket than I am, and maybe you’re looking for the perfect Christmas gift for the car enthusiast. If so, I’ve got the perfect Christmas gift idea for you.

RM Auctions will be selling a 1949 Ferrari 166 MM Touring Barchetta at their upcoming Automobiles of Arizona auction, slated for January 20 and 21 (sure it’ll be a late gift, but one worth waiting for). The car sports a 2 liter 60 degree V12 with triple Weber carburetors, good for some 140 horsepower (significant, back in the day). It’s numbers matching, includes all of its original components, and is number 10 of just 25 ever built. Just in case that’s not significant enough for you, the car’s also seen victory in the 1950 Mar del Plata race in Argentina, and it even competed in the 1951 Mille Miglia. It even has a festive red paint job, perfect for spreading holiday cheer.

Since it’ll be sold at auction, I can’t really tell you how much it will cost. Pre-auction estimates say it’ll sell between $1.9 million and $2.4 million, but those are generally less accurate than weather forecasters. Just to be on the safe side, let’s say it’ll sell for less than four million. Is that too much to pay for the Christmas present of a lifetime?

Source: Autoevolutuion

The Alfa Romea TZ2 was a legendary GT racer, a tube-framed marvel with a screaming twin-plug, twin-cam four and gorgeous curves courtesy of design house Zagato. Only 100 or so were made, most of them to race. Two, however, were handed over to legendary design firms Pininfarina and Bertone. The resulting cars are perhaps the most beautiful automotive creations ever made.

Bertone’s star designer Giorgetto Giugiaro took on the TZ2 for Alfa. His car was dubbed “Canguro,” Italian for “Kangaroo.” The beauty is a far cry from the bounding Australian marsupial. It’s a full six inches lower than Zagato’s TZ2 and has more curves than a Vargas girl. Its body is crafted entirely of aluminum and its seats are cast in ultra-thin fiberglass and mounted below the floorpan to accommodate taller drivers. It is one of the most voluptuous automobiles ever created.

In contrast, Pininfarina’s TZ2 is a sleek space-age arrow with a fighter jet’s wrap-around cockpit. It is, on the whole, fit to trade paint with the Mach V in an animated battle for the finish line. It’s an inspiring design that sucks your breath away like the cold, hard vacuum of space.

Which one would I take? Pininfarina’s masterpiece is hard to pass by, but I have a special place in my heart for Giugiaro and all things curvaceous, so the Canguro gets a spot in my garage.