Europeans will never understand the size of America or Canada. We do not live in quaint cities with narrow cobblestone lanes and gas lights, where weekend flea markets sell Louis XIV furniture or medals from the Boer War, but a land of shopping malls the size of Montana. You can fit two Frances into Ontario and five Great Britains into Newfoundland. It takes two days to drive by car through Ontario. Cars are imperative here, and not electric ones, but something more reliable. The car is the metal metaphor for North America. The problem is that there are certain cars, well, quite a few actually, that date about as well as milk. The 1970 Plymouth Road Runner is not one of them. It is as timeless as a Faberge egg, and a lot less expensive. This is a car that wasn’t born with a lot of curves, more straight to the point, and an attitude to match. The intension was to deconstruct it to its primordial form to bring out the purity of the design.
During the muscle car craze of the mid- to late-60s, Plymouth already had a performance car in their stables – the GTX – but Plymouth realized to capitalize on the most impressionable and accessible market, the Baby Boomers, it needed to reincarnate the original muscle car concept in a car capable of running a 14-second quarter mile without wheezing and to sell it for less than US$3,000. To achieve this, it was the first car since the GTO to be specifically aimed at the youth market. To keep its costs down, it deliberately adopted a ‘no frills’, bargain-basement factory-priced wolf in sheep’s clothing mandate. Innocuous in its rectangular design, it was slotted beneath the GTX and became the poster child for the drive-in crowd. The Road Runner took muscle to the masses with its 335-bhp 383-cid four-barrel big block V8 at an appealing low price tag. Of course, its unmistakable beep beep horn didn’t hurt sales either. It impersonated the voice of the Roadrunner cartoon character to which Plymouth paid Warner Brothers a hefty $50,000 for the rights to the name. Motor Trend magazine termed the Road Runner as “the simplest, most brazenly pure, non-compromising supercar in history…its simplicity is a welcome virtue.” The top echelon in the cubicles at Plymouth prognosticated correctly that this car was a defibrillator for the young and the young at heart, selling an impressive 44,000 units in its debut year, 81,000 in 1969, but fewer in 1970 with 41,000 sold.
It truly earns the moniker, the ‘bouncer of muscle cars’, for its ruggedness and is about as subtle as a Wagnerian opera. This car is not for the introverted, but for those who prefer to rhyme a word with ‘bucket’ when it comes to life – someone who wouldn’t be caught dead in a mini van. “I never get tired of hearing this engine,” confesses Jack Notman, an ageless and affable Chrysler dealership owner. When Plymouth, being the budget brand division under Chrysler’s umbrella, announced that the Road Runner would have no frills, they weren’t exaggerating. Everything in its first two model years was as basic as vanilla: a basic plastic interior that was about as exciting as a pack of RC Cola, basic gauges, a basic thin steering wheel, basic radio, basic windshield wipers that were about as powerful as a 1940 vacuum cleaner, basic bench seats, and four-wheel drum brakes. But the Road Runner that Jack owns is different. This Road Runner is one of only 174 383/4-speed convertibles built. It’s numbers-matching and the interior has a welcoming, openness to it with ivory white bucket seats and, unlike so many cars today, with their colour option of black, grey, light grey or silver grey, this Road Runner has an original electric limelight, high-impact paint job (which I prefer to call neon-grass electra). “With a total of 22 colours available in 1970,” continues Jack, “chances are you will never see a duplicate of this car.” Furthermore, instead of driving a laptop, it wouldn’t be inconceivable to repair this car’s engine probably with a Swiss Army knife. But above all, when Jack kicks the throttle up a notch, a burst of energy courses through my bones. This is a salient point. Even when the car is idling, its gurgle is akin to a deep, throaty baritone. I’m as happy in this car as I would be experiencing a short line at Disneyland. It may not be as flexible through curves and corners like an E-Type Jag, but the moment it sniffs a straight line, whatever time it lost, is captured in a split-second. This car accelerates faster than the stock market during the .com boom.
“I bought this car unseen at the 2009 Spring Mecum Auction in Kissimmee, Florida. I was unable to attend, but my friend and Mopar expert, Doug “Fireball” Miller represented me, giving me a play-by-play commentary as well as a full inspection on the car I bid for it by phone,” comments Jack who knows a thing or two about classic cars owning at least 20 of them. “Interestingly, after my successful bid, two other interested parties approached Fireball to purchase the car. I still have their business cards in the glove compartment.” The Road Runner, with its matching 383 V8 4-speed pistol-grip transmission, had been handled with TLC by its previous owner for it was completely and professionally restored, with only 55,000 miles clocked on, it was void of any restoration documents. However, as proof of its condition, I later showed it at Cool Wheels Car Show at Quiet Waters Park in Deerfield Beach, Florida. It’s a huge event, featuring over 600 cars and my car placed 2nd of the Top 3 Best of Show prizes,” confirms Jack. “Since purchasing it, I’ve only added 5,000 miles to it. It’s definitely a weekend driver, but it doesn’t mind a little punishment.” As former Top Gear host, Jeremy Clarkson defines a sports car, “It needs to be hard riding and noisier than necessary. It needs to remind its owner every single yard of every single journey that he or she bought the car to be exciting.” Not only does this car stand out with its mesmerizing hue, it looks like so much fun to drive with its top down. It’s daring, like going topless at an IBM seminar. It exclaims, “Look at me!” So concedes Jack, “It’s definitely an attention-getter whether at the gas pump or on any road,” he says nodding with a wry smile. “Judging by public reaction, I’m sure it would be an immediate sale if it were to be advertised, but as far as I’m concerned, this is a keeper. In fact, I have a couple of other convertibles, but this one is the ultimate stress-reliever.” Jack’s passion can be traced back to his youth. Working for his father, a retired aircraft mechanic, who owned both Fina and Shell gas stations, Jack experienced every sort of car and got to know them intimately. “I grew up pumping gas and changing oil. My dad also had convertibles, so I still have an affinity for ragtops,” admits Jack proudly.
From 1968 to 1970 was the zenith period of the Road Runner because in 1973, the brand started to look middle-aged with a V8 paunch but not the athleticism. The Road Runner played a pivotal role in American muscle car history, enhancing Plymouth’s brand image while sticking to the basics of the pony car ethos. However, due to higher insurance rates imposed for performance cars, sales saw a dramatic hit. The Road Runner eventually became more of a pseudo-luxury car, straying away from its roots.
The second-generation of the Road Runner went on sale in 1971 and, apart from the styling, was very similar to the first-gen model. Things started going downhill in 1972 when the new emissions regulations meant significant cuts in the power output. The 426 Hemi was no longer viable, as well as the 440 Six Pack. Thus, in 1973 the Chrysler 318 cu in engine became standard for the Road Runner – with a measly 170 hp.
Following the lukewarm reception of the second-gen model, Plymouth rolled out the third-generation Road Runner in ’75. Unfortunately, it didn’t find much success, either. Due to the redesign of Chrysler’s B-body platform, the Road Runner became boxier than ever. The performance remained lackluster compared to the original model, and so did the sales. Today, however, demand is particularly high for a Road Runner. Regardless of the model year, Road Runners, especially with Hemi V8s, are extremely sought-after, increasing in demand with each passing year. Adored by pony car fanatics, Plymouth’s budget sports car is a venerable piece of sixties automotive history, one that will likely never be repeated. “As far as advice to other classic car enthusiasts, follow you heart and learn about the car of your dreams before the purchase,” warns Jack. “If possible, purchase a completely restored car as one needing serious work can become a never-ending headache. But I can tell you one thing as I grab the pistol-grip, 4-speed and pop the clutch, I can only say, what a great hobby!” Most prophetic words indeed.
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