CarPort

Ed Cole had a different idea. While competitors Ford and Chrysler were developing conventional compact cars in the late 1950s, Chevrolet general manager Cole instead channeled from Volkswagen. Instead of a front-engine, rear-drive water-cooled car, Chevrolet would build a rear-engine air-cooled design, but in keeping with American mores it would have six cylinders, not four. Thus was born the Corvair, introduced in October 1959.

There were just two body styles, a plain but modern sedan with GM’s panoramic rear window, and a close-coupled coupe. The engine was a horizontally-opposed “boxer” six of 140 cubic inches and 80 bhp. Transmissions were three-speed manual or a version of Chevy’s sturdy two-speed Powerglide. In the front was a fairly generous cargo space, although the spare tire intruded somewhat. Heating is notoriously difficult in air-cooled cars, so the Corvair used a gasoline-fired system. While sales could be described as decent, at barely 250,000 they were no match for Ford’s Falcon (435,676) and only modestly surpassed Chrysler Corporation’s Valiant (194,292). Cole, however, stole a page from Porsche’s book with the Monza coupe, a tastefully-trimmed coupe with sporty appointments. It sold nearly 12,000 units, despite a late introduction.

For 1961, Corvair struck out in more directions. There was a new Lakewood station wagon, with a cargo deck over the engine, and a Greenbrier van-wagon that emulated the VW Microbus. In addition, a rampside pickup version of the Greenbrier was offered. Despite all this, the Monza coupe, with nearly 110,000 cars, outsold all other models. In 1962, the Monza was spiffed up with additional trim and sales topped 200,000. By this time, Chevy had a real Falcon and Valiant competitor, the entirely conventional front-engine, water-cooled Chevy II.

The 1963 line continued two late-1962 introductions, the Spyder, with a turbocharged engine making 150 bhp, and a convertible that was available with or without the Spyder engine (children, please do not jump from the car when it is in motion. The 1964 line offered yet another subtle trim variation, but the Corvair was about to become a folk celebrity, courtesy of a young lawyer from Winsted, Connecticut.

While first generation Corvairs are certainly collectible, derelict examples are not hard to find. The one heading this feature sits outside a restaurant in Preston, Connecticut. Devoid of all its trim, it’s difficult to date. Dennis David, the CarPort’s northwest Connecticut scout, reports that his territory is rife with crumbling Corvairs in need of salvation.

If you’ve read my bio page you know I’m a UConn alum, but I’m not much of a sports fan so, as much as I’m pleased that my alma mater boasts championship teams, this item is not about basketball. The Husky, as people my age know, was a tremendously useful Hillman station wagon.

In our part of New England, imported cars caught on early. By the early 1950s, Austin Devons and English Fords were fairly common on the roads. A bit less so was the Hillman Minx. About 1955, though, Hillman’s fortunes took a big upturn with the Husky. Based on the MkVII Minx, it used a nine-inch-shorter wheelbase and had a nifty little two-door wagon body. Of unitary construction, it was powered by the Minx’s 1265 cc L-head four, which made 35 bhp. The company dubbed it “Double Duty,” for it was equally useful in commerce or as a family car. Cleverly designed, it had a spare that was completely accessible even with a full load of luggage. Its versatility was widely advertised, even implying a matching trailer for greater loads, although I suspect there was no such thing. In some regions, the Husky might have been the best-selling Hillman.

In 1958 came a revised version called, strangely, Series I. This car had a two-inch longer wheelbase, new sheet metal and a new grille, but more importantly a 1390 cc ohv engine good for 43 bhp. The instrument panel was subtly revised from that of the earlier car, and exterior door handles, previously a conventional push-button design, took on a funky appearance. There were further trim changes through two more series, with production continuing until 1965. There was also, through the whole period, a four-door Minx estate wagon on the long wheelbase.

One reason for the Husky’s success was its lack of competition. Triumph’s TR10 estate wagon had some of the Husky’s features, but a smaller engine. The Vauxhall Victor estate wagon featured a liftgate in contrast to the Husky’s convenient side-hinged door, and disappeared from the US market as soon as the Tempest arrived. The only British two-door wagon was the Austin A40, smaller, less versatile, and early models lacked the rear liftgate of later versions.

As popular as the Huskies were in the late 1950s, all of a sudden they seemed to disappear. For more than 30 years I saw none at all. Then this past October I came across this one in the Hershey Car Corral. I believe it’s a circa 1960 Series II model, and quite nicely presented, although there were a few flaws, like a wrinkly bumper. I chatted with the owners, but I wasn’t in the market for any car so I didn’t even inquire of the asking price. It’s probably just as well, but I still wonder…

When I was growing up, every Labor Day we’d attend the Goshen Fair, the nearest thing to a county fair in our part of Connecticut. Among the cows and sheep, not far from the midway of games and rides and exhibits of prize vegetables were a number of tractor dealers from whom I’d always collect some literature. At the 1957 fair, the local Jeep dealer was showing his crop of new Forward Control Jeeps, a model I had not seen before.

The FCs were another clever idea from Brooks Stevens, who had been responsible for the original Jeep station wagon and the later Jeepster. They were basically Universal Jeeps with a cab set forward for maximum use of the short wheelbase. The FC150 sat on an 81-inch wheelbase and had a 5,000-pound gross vehicle weight rating; the FC170 was a longer (103-inch wheelbase) version rated at 7,000 pounds GVW. The FC150 had the familiar 134 cid Hurricane F-head four, the FC170 was a six with Kaiser’s old (née Continental) 226 cid L-head engine. FC150s had a low pickup box, while FC170’s was longer and deeper. The FC170 could also be had with a factory rack body. Visibility was unparalleled, due to the cab location, although having the steering wheel ahead of the wheels caused a sensation familiar to drivers of VW Microbuses.

I have seen very few Jeep FCs since that time, so it was with much nostalgia that I received some issues of the Shoreline-Area Auto Events Calendar published by my friend Steve Mierz in southern Connecticut. He had received some FC pix from contributor Greg Mattesen, and thus began a four-issue series of FC features, some of which, with their permission, I share with you here.

In 1972, Greg’s father rescued an FC150 from a nearby backyard, towing it home with his grandfather’s ’57 Chevy pickup. Suitably rejuvenated, it gave good service plowing snow. The vaunted engine accessibility seems to have been exaggerated; to really get at the powerplant you have to nestle right up to it. I’ve heard it said, too, that the forward cab and engine caused the trucks to be overly light in the rear. Greg’s Uncle Billy also had an FC150, often used on fishing trips into the wilderness.

Steve Mierz, meanwhile, had been checking out several FCs lurking in the central part of our Nutmeg State. At Larry’s Auto Repair in Middletown was a red FC150, with plow attached, keeping company with a 1953 Ford. It appears to have a non-standard flatbed, but aside from generous surface rust seems basically complete.

A few miles away in Middlefield, Steve found this FC150 pickup, incarcerated by trees and much the worse for wear. Greg, too, had been on the lookout and reported on this FC belonging to a foundation company in Farmington.

It turns out that not all FCs are derelict. Doug Davis, up in Scotia, New York, has this FC150, named “Stubby.” Restored by a previous owner, it has been driven just 18,000 miles, and spent its entire life in Scotia. Now assigned to show duty, Stubby boasts a matching set of Scotch coolers. When was the last time you saw any of those?

As it happens, last autumn I happened upon an FC150in the car show at Hershey. They’re out there, both restored and unrestored; you’ve just got to keep your eyes open.

Dirk Burrowes has been involved with Rovers for some 30 years, and he has about that many cars to show for it. Since 2003, he’s been seriously into collecting and restoring, and reaching out to other enthusiasts of the the “Poor Man’s Rolls” in order to share knowledge and build camaraderie. Each year he holds a RoveAmerica event at his business in Fitchburg, Massachusetts, attracting some 25 Rovers from within driving distance. I learned about his year’s gathering, held June 12th-14th, from Rover owner Dave LaChance, and as a lapsed Roverist myself I thought I’d look in.

It wasn’t hard to find. Dirk had a Rover P4 “Cyclops” model acting as a beacon for incoming Rovers. There were about 15 cars on hand when I arrived at 9:00 AM, and more kept arriving throughout the morning. Many were from Dirk’s own collection, including a freshly restored 1949 P3 saloon (Rover styles are known by their “P-numbers”: P is for postwar, and P3 is the third postwar design). Dirk’s other cars include a V8-powered 1970 P5B coupe (Mercedes did not invent the four-door coupe, regardless of what the ads say), and a 1968 P6 2000TC. Very rare is his P6B estate wagon, a conversion by FLM Panelcraft. “B” stands for “Buick” since Rover’s aluminum V8 began life as a Buick engine. Dirk’s more recent Rovers include a Sterling 827, the latter a Honda design built in Japan as the Acura Legend and in England as the Rover 827.

Dirk’s prewar Rovers are a jaunty little 1926 Rover 9, a 1079 cc four rated at nine RAC horsepower, a 1929 six-cylinder Rover 16 with Weymann fabric body, and a 1933 Meteor, another six-cylinder car with steel body. He has just a single Land Rover.

Visiting Rovers included a P4-90, a 2.6 liter six, several SD-1s, this one driven from Virginia, and Lloyd LeGrow with his P5 from southern Ontario. Andre Shay’s P6B is a daily-driven test bed, currently running a Holley four-barrel carb in place of the original twin SUs. I’ve known Andre for ten years, since he took some of my Rover remnants during our clear-out. Only one car arrived on a trailer, Dave Champion’s SD-1 Vitesse, a gray-market import from Holland with the twin-plenum fuel injected engine never sold here. Most cars, though, were P6 2000TCs, the twin carb version, although there was one 2000SC single carburetor car, also from Dirk’s collection.

This was no car show, no prizes, no trophies. Tools were in evidence as some owners took advantage of Dirk’s enormous stockpile to install some missing parts. Others gathered round for a demo on rebuilding Lockheed remote brake boosters, and all admired Dirk’s Rover storage system, which makes them easy to service and preserves them better than the surrounding woods.

Non-Rovers were given exhibit space, as long as they were English. This Lotus Elite attended and Dirk’s wife Donna showed off her nifty frog-eye Sprite.

Dave LaChance was the last to arrive, the shakedown for his car’s maiden voyage having taken longer than expected. The day was scheduled to end with a lakeside barbeque, but Dave had experienced generator trouble, so all the menfolk gathered around. Sick cars are more important than barbeques, so out came the tools and instruments, which quickly determined the generator itself was at fault. A spare was found, mounted and wired and soon Dave was on the road again. It was my pleasure to present Dave with a can of correct OEM April Yellow touch-up paint, an artifact that’s been on my shelf for 30 years.

Check out Dirk’s RoverAmerica website for more information on RoveAmerica and his awesome collection.

The French have a name for it: concours d’elegance. Loosely translated it means beauty contest, a competition of elegance. This contrasts with most old car shows,which are concours e’tat, contests of condition or state. In true concours d’elegance judging, cars are judged on their overall appearance, condition being one of several contributing factors. And so it is with Connecticut’s Greenwich Concours d’Elegance.

Last weekend was the fourteenth annual concours at Greenwich, founded and run by Bruce and Genia Wennerstrom. It’s a two-day event, Saturday devoted to American antique and classic cars, Sunday designated Concours International, featuring sports, touring and competition cars from Europe and beyond.

Saturday’s field included such notables as a 1912 Speedwell formerly owned by the late renowned tenor and car collector James Melton; two Detroit Electric cars, 1914 and 1918; a gorgeous 1934 Packard LeBaron phaeton owned by Greenwich collector Malcolm Pray; a 1930 L29 Cord with Murphy body designed by Frank Hershey and a rare Marmon Roosevelt, named after our 26th President. Less exotic but equally as interesting were Model T and Model A Fords, a 1939 Ford Standard station wagon, and a 1939 “Spirit of Motion” supercharged Graham in the seldom-seen coupe body style. These gents won Best Combination of Car and Costume, along with Michael Krieger’s Pierce-Arrow coupe, and Mr. Wennerstrom gave his Chairman’s Award to this 1931 Duesenberg J convertible victoria. At the other end of the time scale were a mint 1973 AMC Matador and a newly-collectible 1984 Cadillac Seville. Selected Best of Show was a 1932 Auburn V-12 boat-tail speedster owned by Joseph and Margie Cassini; Malcolm Pray’s 1954 Kaiser Darrin was voted People’s Choice.

The international auction house Bonhams held a sale of motor cars and memorabilia on Sunday, offering such treasures as the 1922 GN racer “Akela” once owned by Ron Godfrey, a rare Allard K3, and a 1913 Hudson Mile-a-Minute speedster.

Centerpiece of the concours both days was the innovative Terrafugia flying car (actually a “roadable airplane”), a revival of a concept that many inventors tested after World War II. A notable Concours sponsor was Tesla Motors, makers of the high performance Tesla sports car.

Sunday’s show included such European thoroughbreds as a Rolls-Royce Phantom II drophead coupe by Barker, MG J1, Triumph Gloria Southern Cross, Sunbeam Alpine and a circle full of Ferraris. An unusual entrant was the 1937 Volvo PV52 owned by Bob and Linda Pellerin; nearly as remarkable was the Israeli-built 1962 Sabra sports car. Michael Schudroff’s 1962 Dual-Ghia is an Italian-American grand tourer; Lance and Melissa Levethan’s Fiat 500 Jolly was judged “Most Fun.” A portent of the future was a Fiat Cinquecento, soon to come to these shores but perhaps not as an Abarth version.

This year is the centenary of the Morgan Motor Company, so Morgan was featured marque, with entrants as varied as 1928 Aero and 1948 F4 trikes, and four-wheelers of “flat radiator,” cowled-radiator Triumph-engined Plus Four and Rover-engined Plus Eight models.

Sunday also saw a rich complement of European motorcycles on show. The weather for both days was excellent, just warm enough that ice cream from an authentic Good Humor truck was a real treat.

Grand Marshal Don Peterson, Chief Judge David E. Davis, Jr., and Deputy Chief Judge Jed Rapoport delivered drive-by commentary as the awards were announced. The Competition Class was won by Brock Yates’ 1956 Novi Indy roadster. People’s Choice went to John Rich’s 1914 Renault EF Victoria, while Best of Show was awarded to Ed and Carroll Windfelder for their 1948 Delahaye M135.

The Greenwich Concours d’Elegance benefits Americares, the international relief organization. Next year’s Concours will be held June 5th and 6th, 2010.

General Motors declared bankruptcy this week, and with the filing came news of all the franchise terminations. This was the other shoe dropping, for we’d already seen the list of ex-Chrysler dealers. As I expected, our closest Chrysler-Jeep store, a fairly small operation, was on the hit list – it wasn’t all that long ago that they moved up to Chrysler from Peugeot. The Falvey family, who own the dealership, are not terribly bothered since they own another all-line Mopar operation in Norwich, about 15 miles away. But New London, Connecticut’s M.J. Sullivan, a full-line GM dealer selling all makes but GMC and Hummer, seemed a incredible hedge against the dreaded “Dear Dealer” letter.

Yesterday we learned that M.J. Sullivan had indeed dodged a bullet, but took two others – Pontiac, as we all know, faces euthansia so all Pocho dealers stand to lose a brand. As it turns out, GM is pulling the Cadillac and Buick brands out of Sullivan’s store, leaving just Chevy and Chevy trucks. If you want a Buick you’ll have to go to Brustolon’s over in Mystic, and for a Caddy it’ll have to be Don Mallon up in Norwich, each the same 15 miles distant.

It could have been worse. At least Chevy is the volume brand. Brustolon’s Buick and GMC sales will probably not keep pace. It’s a bit ironic that the Sullivan dealership, begun as a used car operation and grown through purchase of a Chevy store, reverts to its roots. By careful entrepreneurship, Martin Sullivan and his son had bought up Pontiac, Olds, Buick and Cadillac franchises. Olds suffered a slow death, while Pontiac’s will be much quicker. So the Sullivan dealership is, in a way, right back where it started.

What if GM doesn’t survive, you ask? Well the Sullivans have an ace up their sleeve. Some years back they took on a Hyundai franchise.

At first glance you might think this is a Morgan Plus Four. The resemblance is such that you may be forgiven for doing so, but this is about as unMorgan a car as you could imagine. A look at the front reveals no familiar cowled radiator grille. A closer look reveals a differential lurking behind the grille, for this is a front-wheel drive car. The badge tells the story: Georges Irat.

Born in Arcachon, France, in 1892, Georges Irat went to Paris at age 20 to enter the motor trade. By the time World War I ended he was in charge of the Majola factory, which made a range of light touring cars. Irat began the production of his own car, bearing his name, in 1921. Its ohv four-cylinder engine was designed by Maurice Gaultier, formerly of Delage, and the car had servo-assisted brakes on all four wheels. Production ranged from 100 to 200 cars a year. Bodies came from outsource carrosseries, like this attractive cabriolet by Portout, who would later body the Peugeot Eclipse. This car is a 1927 Model A. A six-cylinder car was added to the range that year also.

In the early thirties, Georges Irat offered some series of cars with American engines, but these were not successful. With backing from Godefroy et Levecque, makers of Ruby engines, he began building the sporting car seen above. Called the 6CV from its French horsepower rating, it used an 1,100 cc Ruby engine driving the front wheels. About 1,500 were built from 1935 to 1939, the most successful Georges Irat then or now.

In 1938, he introduced a new front-drive sporting car, which used an 11CV engine from the Traction Avant Citroen. Only about 200 were built by the time World War II halted production. After the war, a radical new car was shown at the Paris Salon. Powered by an 1,100 cc flat four, it had a magnesium chassis and body. Also front-wheel drive, it had the engine located above the transmission. This three-headlamp version appeared at the ’49 show, but nothing came of it. After a brief attempt to build Jeep-like vehicles with Dyna Panhard engines, Georges Irat exited the automobile business entirely in 1953. He retired to his home town, where he died in 1971.

We’ve posted at the CarPort before about Packard’s postwar price point problem (yoiks, sorry for the aggravated alliteration). Indeed, the Clipper, which competed with the Buick Super, might have fared better if further differentiated from the big Packards, but the upper end of the range had identity problems of its own.

In the “Pregnant Elephant” era (1948-50), the series identities were easily understood – Eight, Super Eight, Custom Eight – even if the cars looked too much the same. But for 1951 and 1952 (the major difference was in the hood ornament), those heritage labels were thrown away and the series given numbers instead. The low-end car was called the “200,” a mid-range sedan badged “300,” and at the top the 400 Patrician, also a sedan. The 200 had a 122-inch wheelbase and 288 cid L-head straight eight. The 300 and 400 were both on 127 inch wheelbases, powered by a 327 cid straight eight. In between was a series 250, which had the short wheelbase and the large engine, and came as a Mayfair hardtop and convertible only. There was no 250 sedan. Pricewise, the 200 competed with the Buick Special, the 250 and 300 with the Buick Roadmaster, and the 400 Patrician with the Cadillac 62.

For 1953, new president James Nance brought back the Clipper name for what had been the 200. The 250, however, lost its series name and was known only by its catalog number, 2631. Added to the Mayfair and convertible was the new Caribbean softop, a prestige car selling for $5210 and having little in common with its fellow travelers. The Caribbean was perhaps inspired by a 1951 convertible given custom touches by coachbuilder Derham. The 300 became known as the Cavalier, the Patrician lost its “400” designation, and a pair of long (149-inch) wheelbase cars, a Corporation Limo and an Executive Sedan, was added at the top, built in small numbers. One problem was that the Mayfair and convertible were priced about $500 above the most costly Clipper, yet looked about the same.

This situation persisted into 1954, when the Clipper was given some unique sheet metal to differentiate it from the Patrician and other “large” Packards. The Cavalier returned and the big cars, which still had an unnamed series comprising the Pacific hardtop, convertible coupe and Caribbean, got a larger, 359 cid, nine-main-bearing engine.

For 1955, most Packards were Clippers; only three body styles, the Patrician sedan, a Four Hundred hardtop coupe and the Caribbean, were built on the 127-inch wheelbase. For 1956, the Clippers were moved further off scale, losing the Packard name (although many states registered them as such). A strange apparition appeared on the 122-inch wheelbase, the Executive line, which comprised a sedan and a hardtop and sold for the price of a Buick Roadmaster.

When 1957 rolled around, James Nance was gone and the Packards had become “Packardbakers,” selling for Buick Century money. It’s tempting to assign blame in hindsight. Packard’s descent from prestige had many causes, but the confusing array of models from 1951 to 1956 must surely be among them. Cadillac held tightly to a regimen of 62, 60 Special and 75 throughout the period, and was rewarded with sales nearly four times Packard’s by 1954. Perhaps if Packard had kept a heritage pecking order like that of the 1930s Six, One Twenty, Super Eight and Twelve, customers would have been less confused. There may well have been a Packard for every posh purse and purpose, but the patron was hard pressed to figure it out.

You’ll notice we didn’t mention Lincoln. That’s because the 1952-55 Lincolns were not really luxury cars. Not until 1954 did Lincoln break the $4,000 mark. Until then it was strictly Buick-class.

Donald Healey’s career was blessed with a number of fortuitous meetings. His shipboard encounter with George Mason we’ve covered before. That led to the Nash-Healey. We also devoted a CarPort to his collaboration with Colin Chapman on the Jensen-Healey. More successful than either of those meetings was his conversation with Austin’s chairman Leonard Lord at the 1952 London Motor Show.

The Nash-Healeys were not selling well, and Nash was losing $1,000 on every one that did. Healey worked up an all-British sports car, using mechanicals from the foundering Austin A-90 Atlantic. The new car’s body was an attractive two-seater by Jensen of West Bromwich, then building the A-40 Sports for Austin. Healey took it to the show. Lord was impressed and a deal was struck. What had been the Healey Hundred (based on its top speed) became the Austin-Healey 100 and went into production for 1953. At first the cars had a three-speed gearbox, soon increased to four in a minor update in 1955.

In 1956, a 2.6-liter six was substituted for the 100’s four of about the same size. The new car was called the 100-6, and sold as an “occasional four-seat sports tourer,” since two small people could sit in back. In 1959, the engine was enlarged to 2,912 cc so the car was renamed “3000.” A MkII version in 1961 featured three carburetors and a revised grille. The final version, MkIII, was built from 1963 to 1967 (this one is in works competition specification).

Difficulties in conforming to the new US safety and environmental regulations led to its discontinuation at the end of the year, since the American market took the preponderance of production. The British Motor Corporation, as Austin had become, tried to make a stopgap successor out of the MGB GT by fitting a three liter engine. (Mat, editor of a local MG newsletter, advises that the only things the MGC engine shares with the Austin-Healey are its bore and stroke. The fact that they have identical displacements causes some confusion.) The resulting MGC GT was a flop, euthanized at the end of 1969. Thus ended the Austin-Healey saga, except for the smaller sibling Sprite, which continued into 1971.

I’ve never owned a “big Healey,” but I’ve driven several. They’re great fun, fast, good handling cars with a deliciously throaty exhaust note. The latter is a hazard. The car is so low that any small bump will tear the muffler right off.

I don’t usually give much attention to the so-called supercars, Ferraris, Duesenbergs, Corvettes and the like, for they all have their own very substantial constituencies. I don’t even dote on Mustangs, except to appreciate their Falcon origins. As a result I was not wildly excited when invited to visit the Shelby American Collection. By the end of the tour, though, I was glad I went.

Unobtrusively located adjacent to a Boulder, Colorado, shopping mall, the Collection includes some of the most famous and significant examples of Shelby cars, the Cobras, Shelby Mustangs and GT40s. We were fortunate to have as our guides Greg Volan (left), the director, and Frank Barrett, who has just written a book about the detailed histories of the cars.

The tour starts with AC, for it was the AC Ace that was the basis for the original Cobra, powered by a 260 cubic inch smallblock Ford engine. The Collection also has street 289– and 427-engined Cobras, and a Sunbeam Tiger, which also used the Ford engine, thrown in for good measure. The Dragonsnake was a Shelby promotional competition car with movie credentials.

Competition Cobras include CSX 2385, a 289 USRRC car owned and driven by baby food scion Dan Gerber, and CSX 2345, the factory team 289 FIA car with rich competition history (the CSX numbers are their Shelby serials; the faithful know them by number). Something completely different is the Willment Daytona Coupe, CSX 2131, bodied in England. CSX 2155 is a “customer” LeMans replica roadster, campaigned in 1964. This Daytona Coupe, CSX 2299, was built to race against the Ferrari 250 GTO. It won four races and finished second three times during 1964-65, driven by Dan Gurney, Bob Bondurant and Jack Sears, among others.

Among the Shelby Mustangs are SFM 5R002, the first “R” model completed, a factory mule, and SFM 5014R, the GT-350 advanced prototype.

The GT40 story is told with MkI P/103, the first GT40 to win a race (Daytona, 1965), and P/1015, a Mk II 427 car, first overall in the 1965 Daytona 24-hr race. The MkIV car J-7 ran at LeMans in 1967, but did not finish.

Providing counterpoint is the Ferrari 410 Sport Scaglietti Spider raced by Carroll Shelby and Richie Ginther. There’s plenty of memorabilia at the Shelby American Collection, including original Holman & Moody body molds for the GT40 MkII racing coupes.

Still, I didn’t become a supercar guy. My favorite of the lot was the “Cobra Delivery,” a 1963 Ford Falcon sedan delivery that served as Shelby American’s delivery and tow vehicle. Originally a 260 V8 like our old Falcon station wagon, it was converted to Cobra status with a full race 289.

The Shelby American Collection is open Saturdays from 10 to 4. If you’re in Boulder on a weekend, by all means check it out.