Good morning, Autopians! I hope you all had a good holiday, decked all the halls, jingled all the bells, ate all the cookies, all that good stuff. Today, just in case you didn’t get any new toys (like me, but I buy plenty of toys for myself), we’re looking at a couple of sad old cars that need some love, but could be fun with a little work.
Monday’s three-cylinders were pretty evenly-matched for most of the day, and when I checked at the end of the day, the little Subaru had amassed Justy-nough votes to put it ahead. However, that lead seems to have evaporated like a Mirage, because as of this writing, the Mitsubishi has a narrow lead. Never a dull moment here on Shitbox Showdown.
Personally, I think, given the choice between these two, I’d take the Justy, mainly because it’s cheap and it would be more fun to mess with. If I still had to commute, I’d go for the Mirage, because nobody wants to drive a little shortbread tin on wheels like these in traffic, but if you have to, it should at least have A/C and some airbags.
Now then: When you check Craigslist as often as I do, you start to notice cars that don’t sell and get re-listed. Listings expire after a month, I think, but some ads seem to hang around for a year or more. I know I have seen both of these cars advertised before. They both look like viable projects, but they just haven’t found a home yet. They’re the Craigslist equivalents of ostrich-riding cowboys or trains with square wheels, I guess. So let’s take a look at them, and see if we can find at least one of them an owner who would love it.
1967 VW Dune Buggy, Meyers Manx replica – $4,000
Engine/drivetrain: 1.6-liter overhead valve flat 4, four-speed manual, RWD
Location: San Diego, CA
Odometer reading: Don’t know, don’t care
Operational status: Runs and drives, but needs some wiring finished up
I can’t think of a more pure expression of internal-combustion-powered joy than a dune buggy. Take a dirt-cheap, mass-produced economy car, strip it down to its bare essentials, plop a fiberglass bathtub on it, and go drive on the beach. It serves absolutely no purpose except to put a smile on your face, and honestly, the world needs more things like that. Bruce Meyers deserves the credit for the idea, of course, but once he did it, copycats appeared everywhere, and this is one of them. You can’t call it a Manx, but you don’t really have to call it anything but a dune buggy. People will know what you mean.
The genius thing about using VW Beetle platforms for dune buggies is that you can mix and match parts so easily that you can build whatever you want. The builder of this car started with a ’67 Beetle pan – probably shortened, most dune buggy kits require it – and added a 1600 engine, trailing-arm rear suspension, and the requisite big fat tires. It runs and drives, and has a new carb and new brakes, but it has been incompletely rewired, so that needs to be finished up. It could also use new motor mounts and some exhaust work.
“Interior” is a pretty loose term when it comes to dune buggies; there just isn’t much there besides a couple of seats and a steering wheel. But really, what more do you need? If you want tunes, stick a boom box in back next to the cooler. Climate control? No need; just drive it when it’s 80 and sunny. The dash on this one needs to be completed, but the seats look all right.
There were a ton of dune buggy kits this style available in the ’60s, and I have no idea who made this one. Again, it doesn’t really matter. It’s a good-looking vehicle, and the Mustang taillights are a nice touch. The fiberglass is in good condition, but the seller mentions a crack in the hood. Nothing a little epoxy can’t fix.
1973 Oldsmobile Toronado – $2,700
Engine/drivetrain: 455 cubic inch overhead valve V8, three-speed automatic, FWD
Location: Long Beach, CA
Odometer reading: 67,000 miles
Operational status: Runs and moves, but has been off the road for years
While the kids were having fun on the beach, their well-to-do uncles were discovering the joys of the personal luxury coupe. Why have four doors when you only typically open one? Make it big, make it powerful, make it stylish, and make sure everyone knows it’s yours. Conspicuous consumption? Well, yeah. Even now, when they’re long past their glory days, these things are more than anyone needs. And this Toronado, from just before the downsizing and de-powering of the malaise years, is even more-er than most.
Open the obnoxiously long hood of this car, and you find a gen-you-wine 455 Rocket V8, with nothing but an air pump and a PCV valve to tame its polluting ways. It’s only rated for 250 horsepower (thanks to the new-for-1972 net ratings), but it has more than enough torque to shove you back in the deeply padded seat and light up the front tires. This one runs fine, and you can put it in gear and move it around, but it has been off the road for three decades, so obviously it will need some work.
Luxury can mean a lot of things, but usually it means room to spread out, and the Toronado has plenty of that. Its front-wheel-drive layout means no transmission hump or driveshaft tunnel to intrude, and the resulting flat floor makes it feel huge inside, instead of the strangely cramped feel you can get inside some big cars. It’s actually in pretty good shape inside, it looks like; the upholstery is mostly good, and it’s more or less clean.
It’s a little rougher outside, with some surface rust on the trunk lid and missing bumper filler panels, but if you just want a cheap comfy cruiser, you could probably just leave it alone. It has a vinyl top, which of course might be hiding more rust, but I don’t think you could avoid that in 1973.
So there they are, a couple of project cars that have been languishing for a while. You could probably give either seller a lowball-ish offer and they’d take it. You can’t drive them home, but you can start them up and drive them onto a trailer, and that’s not nothing. So what’ll it be: fun in the sun, or a cruise down the boulevard?
(Image credits: sellers)
The dune buggy is a $500 car. Hate me if you like.
Dune buggy for me. No room for the Olds, but I can fit the buggy in my shed!
My grandfather had a ’72 Toronado as his final car. I drove him to his various medical appointments and then go out to lunch with him to the same restaurant every week. I inherited it when he passed and quickly gave it to my brother who had wrecked the ’65 Olds 98 LS Grandpa had given him a few years prior. Then he wrecked the Toronado.
I don’t think I ever went over 80 mph in the Toro. The rear suspension was so underdamped that I just didn’t trust it to not go pogoing off the road after a large bump or dip.
I love that turquoise, but Kathy Mattea has me solds on the Olds.
Had a 1973 Toronado as the main family car until 1981. Dad bought it new. It went all over the country, hot weather and cold, through deep snow, freezing rain and boiling desert. I was, toward the end, able to get that big bastard, family name Lucky, to 120 mph plus. As verified by the friendly Highway Patrol officer who considered my age, the absolutely untrafficked stretch of highway I’d selected on which to be stupid, and let me off with a warning. 120 plus? Initial read was 120, but it was decreasing. He figured it was faster before he targeted me.
I’d have gotten away clean, but air pressure shoved that massive square bow low enough to scrape the bumper on the road. I drove in a tunnel of happy orange sparks and metal rumbling for a bit.
Said reentry flames got the officer’s attention. He hit me with radar and moved on me.
My dad noticed the scraping during a hand wash in the drive. Figured mom hit a steep drive or kerb and let it go.
No. I hadn’t the courage to fess up. Mom was notorious for that kinda thing, and it wasn’t visible.
That car was stable at speed, comfortable as hell, and the back seat was ideal for other types of maneuver.
My dad had moved on. First to a Superbeetle, then to a CJ. My mom wanted a station wagon. So Lucky was on borrowed time when I went on my high speed run.
A few months later She was insurance totalled after a collision with a mid seventies Ford Station Wagon.
I note that Lucky was drivable after, suffering a bent front quarter panel. Which. Pounded with a mallet, moved right out of the way.
The Ford was an actual wreck.
About five years later, I saw Lucky in the parking lot of a local youth shelter. Repaired, cma bit dowdy.
I went back to mom and dad’s house, fiddled in the kitchen junk drawer and got the spare keys.
Kept them in my car for a while. Thinking I’d catch up with the driver, use the keys as proof of prior ownership, and ask if I could get a ride for the sake of nostalgia.
Had that gone well, I’d have made an offer, had Lucky repaired… And just drive up into the parent’s drive one morning…
Which ought to answer any questions as to who was driving when the Toronado was hit.
FABULOUS car. About 8 miles per gallon, but hell. The dash has little blue lights that only exist to show off the plastic fake wood trim. Between the suspension and the aggressive power steering, there’s almost ‘o steering effort or road feel.
That bump? Pothole or toddler, no way to tell. And that giant engine over the driving wheels guaranteed sure-footed Sherpa quality travel in snow.
I’d buy one.
My dad had a dune buggy for a little while in the ’70s. I think he bought it to flip because I don’t remember ever riding in it, although we did live pretty close to a beach.
And like just about everyone with a middle-class income at the time, my dad also bought several Oldsmobiles, among them the only cars he ever bought new. One was a ’76 Custom Cruiser, black over perforated burgundy vinyl seats and woodgrain vinyl decor, and loaded (the only thing I recall it lacked was stereo sound for the AM-FM.) It was enormous, so big that when we looked at houses for an upcoming move to Richmond I got overheated in the way-back. It was sold long before I was old enough to get behind the wheel.
That’s one reason why the Toronado’s my choice. The other reason is that I don’t think there are any beaches one can drive on anymore, at least not nearby, and I probably wouldn’t drive on one if there were. Let the sea turtles have their egg pits and the seabirds their landing spots and the Québécois their frigid empty beaches that they think are warm long before the locals are willing to leave the house.
Mmm… I’ll take the big, buttery boat. While I prefer the Eldorado version of this car with it’s 500cu plant, the 455 is “oldsmost” there.
I’ll see myself out.
The Olds is a lot of car for the price. I like the dune buggy, but I don’t have much use for it, and it seems pretty pricey for a project non-Manx.
I hate yellow, but I want the Toro.
Are there 3d printers large enough to remake filler panels?
Another terrific EV prospect for tooling around Palm Springs
at least the yellow one is a real car
Seventy-tree Oldsmobile Toronado Personal Luxury Coupe for me. Cruise in style until the body falls off, then make something spicy with the (pre-smog!) powertrain.
I can’t abide the buggy’s 90° windscreen, and that rollbar is just there to provide additional injuries.
Is it bad that I voted for the Oldsmobile because I’ve always had ideas about turning an ol’ FWD big block GM product into a drag car, just to mess with people?
The Manx is manky, but the Toronado’s a bit toasted.
I’m going Toronado. Its got a 455. What evil you could inflict upon the pavement with that is only limited by how much gas you can afford.
I want the buggy, but $4k? People have lost their damn minds.
Yeah, I voted for it, but I bet I could find one locally with fewer issues for the same money.
https://youtu.be/Cj7eoz8dFXQ?si=7GAJMuAkLoKL0PFT
Dune Buggy Scene: “The Thomas Crown Affair”
Dune buggy. I have wanted a Manx since the mid-80s when I saw one in person for the first time, while I have never wanted a Tornado except perhaps in my dreams of dropping the drivetrain into something it crazy (like Roadkill’s Mazdarati).
Speaking of cowboys and ostriches, it was a ‘66 Meyers Manx sported about by Chuck Connors in the TV show “Cowboy in Africa” that really lit the Manx fuse for me. Even better, it was his own car. If the Rifleman chose a dune buggy for a mount, that was good enough for me. This buggy isn’t a Manx, but spiritually, aren’t they all? Dune buggy all day, every day.
I usually vote for whichever I think will be the most complete and functioning road vehicle, but I like that little buggy. I certainly like it more than an abandoned land barge that needs to have every bit of rubber on it replaced. Put me down for fun in the sun today.
Volkswagen, please!
Even though the taillights are not aligned and the whole rear of the body appears to be crooked, this is a fun platform and one that is easy to modify. It’s unfortunate that someone chopped up a ’67 to do this, but what’s done is done.
The seller says “I suspect the transmission/motor mounts need to be replaced. The car sometimes shudders when releasing the clutch.” It’s more likely IMO that the clutch disc has become contaminated and is now misbehaving, but that’s an easy fix.
One serious flaw is the mounting of the roll cage. The front two lower mounts appear to be held on with one bolt each, and the flanges sit on top of the fiberglass body, sandwiching the crunchy ‘glass between metal cage and metal floor pan. Yikes.
I think the rollbar is kind of like seatbelts in an airplane – Not really going to help much in a real crash.
Noticed the same thing about the “roll” bar. The section between the front and rear hoop doesn’t appear to have much welding on it either. This is cosmetic, not functional.
Little Blue Dune Buggy! In the sand!
Little Blue Dune Buggy! In my hand!
Not exactly the color blue I’ve pictured, but it will work and is reason alone to go with the Dune Buggy.
Had a small blue dune buggy toy as a small child, one of the first toys I remember. Kind of a blue rubber one piece body with black plastic wheels and thru axles, maybe 4″ long. Took it to the beach with me on vacation at 4 or 5. I always thought of it when hearing the song, been missing for decades at this point
I still voted Olds. Weigh anchor.
These Toronados have a striking road presence. They’re not pretty, they’re not opulent, just slightly brutish in a luxurious way. Kind of like that kid in high school, all muscle, quick with his hands, but kept them to himself. He’d be the one, though, to intervene if a nerdy classmate was being pushed around by the hitters.
I’ve known these guys, and they should all be driving early-seventies Toronados.
The listing for the Olds has expired, so it’s either already off the Island or it needs to re-up for another month. No matter, I voted for the Manx wannabe
“…but you can start them up and drive them onto a trailer,…”
You’re gonna need a Knight Industries semi to transport that Toronado anywhere.
A timeless Meyers Manx or a dated Toronado?
A timeless Meyers Manx or a dated Toronado?
It’s so hard to decide…
In view of our modern society, “dated” sounds better with every tick of my mechanical watch!
The Manx design is older than the Toronado.
I’ll take the Dune Buggy as it would give me illusions of being able to drive it to a beach somewhere to chill. The coupe gives me illusions of smoking 2 packs a day, slicking my hair back, and solving ‘problems’ for my boss, utilizing the large trunk.