The 340 is the biggest POS V8 Chrysler ever made.

yes, I was of age then, and remember them all. The muscle car era is historically significant.
Nine times out of ten back then the better driver won the race. There were many dumb kids with rich parents that bought them their favorite muscle car. I knew a guy that would win in whatever car he drove, and he was a crazy man in his 69 383 Roadrunner.
Unfortunaetly, he went to Vietnam in 70', and did not make it back.
What I like best about my Dart is it thinks it is still 1969! No Computer, no Turbo, no Supercharger, and no worries about someone hacking the GPS or an EMP exploding the electrical system.
Mechanics today can't troubleshoot a newer car without a computer. I tell them all the time: back then your brain was the computer, you had to listen to the exhaust system and engine, smell the exhaust ,and calculate everything in your head, using only a timing light and vacuum gauge!
Ah, the good ole days!

Whenever I open the garage up, Purple Haze(jimi Hendrix for the youngens here) starts playing on the radio! I went in the military in the summer of 70', and $100 bucks a month didn't go far to own anything newer than a 66 Polara. I was lucky to afford that, with a $40 dollars per month car Payment.


That's funny. I was 17 and out making some money off my friends on the street. I was awful arrogant (as hard as that is to believe...it's true) and as it so happens I had an uncle with a 73 Gran Prix with a 400 in it. I stopped by his place and told him I'd just taken some money from a guy and told him how bad assed I really was.
He asked me if I could outrun his Pontiac. I said hell yes, blind drunk, hung over or any way you want to do it.

So he has me get some of my friends to watch and we head out to the road a few nights later. Probably 15 guys there with me. We bet 200 bucks (1981 and I was making 2.65 an hour so it was a sizable bet for me) and I proceed to get my *** waxed. That junk assed Pontiac blew my doors off.

I paid my uncle and he told me "you can't drive for ****". I'm think WTF is wrong with my uncle. I say prove it.

So we swap cars. I'm now driving his Pontiac and he's driving my Demon. He says double or nothing. Being the cocky prick I was I said perfect.

He proceeded to drag my *** by truck lengths. Absolutely smoked me. With my own car. Now I'm down 400 bucks, feeling crunchy and totally humbled in front of my friends. I said what's the deal. He said get off your high horse and I'll teach you. Right now you think you are Ronnie Sox and you ain't.

So after a week or so of reflection and being shamed at school, I let my uncle teach me how to actually drive.


BEST 400 BUCKS I EVER SPENT. Too bad he died in 2011.