Special Car, auto, cars, vehicles

Say what?

Yep. Valiant Charger. As some of you know, I grew up in Australia, where GM, Ford, and Chrysler all made cars in the 1960s and '70s. When the musclecar war erupted here in the States, a second front opened Down Under, with hot Holdens, Falcons, and Valiants duking it out for bragging rights.

1971 was a vintage year for Aussie muscle. You could buy a Holden Monaro coupe powered by the immortal Chevy 350 small-block. The Ford Falcon GTHO Phase Three had a 351 Cleveland under the hood, complete with shaker (Torino GT base and Mustang scoop), Mustang decklid wing, and optional 15-in. alloy wheels. It would run 142 mph, making it one of the fastest four-doors in the world at the time.

Chrysler was a little late to the musclecar party, and its Valiant Charger was a unique take on the genre. The Charger was built on a shorter wheelbase than the regular Valiant sedan, and the hi-po R/T versions only had a straight-six under the hood, albeit an Australian developed 4.3L straight-six (I think the basic architecture came from a Dodge truck design) with hemispherical combustion chambers. But its aggressive styling, particularly the coupe sail panels and distinctive Kamm-tail made it the looker of the bunch.

There were R/Ts and there were R/Ts. As in Detroit, you had to play the option game. The regular R/T Chargers had a single four-barrel. But if you ticked the box marked E37 or E38 on your order form, you got the Six Pack engine, which featured three monster 45 DCOE sidedraft Weber carburetors bolted to the intake ports. There were other changes: forged alloy rods, bigger valves, trick headers, higher compression ratio, baffled oil pan, and a wilder cam.

The E38 was the race-face version. Compression ratio was 10:1, the rods were shot-peened, and the valve overlap was a rumpety-rump 48 degrees. In E38 guise the big hemi six made 280 hp at 5000 rpm and 318 lb-ft of torque at 3700 rpm. It also came with the Competition Package, which included alloy wheels, limited slip diff, and a giant fuel tank with fillers on each sail panel.

My R/T was an E37. It had a milder cam (30 degrees of valve overlap) and a lower compression ratio (9.7:1). Output was 248 hp at 4800 rpm, with 306 lb-ft of torque at 3400 rpm. I also missed out on the Competition Package goodies: My car had styled steel wheels, a smaller gas tank with a single filler at the rear (straight out of the Chrysler U.S. parts pin), and a standard diff. I didn't mind too much. It was still a pretty cool ride for a 19-year-old.

I had come out of a year in military college at the end of 1976 and was looking to trade up from my 1968 Mini. I had a steady job (at a company that made steel tubing, of all things), and I was living at home. So I had money in my pocket and a desire to buy something fast. My uncle worked at Chrysler's Australian factory in Adelaide, and my dad -- a mechanic -- has always liked the way the early Valiants seemed a cut above their Holden and Ford counterparts. So naturally I was drawn to a Charger.

Dad and I must have checked out a dozen tatty, hard-driven Charger R/Ts -- including some E38s -- before we found this immaculate fire-orange E37. It belonged to a Greek guy who'd been given it as a wedding present by his father-in-law. Judging by the look of his wife, he earned it. The car had done just 35,000 miles. I ponied up $3500 and drove it away.

This car had never been driven hard in its life. I thought I'd blown it up later that night when I looked in the rearview mirror and saw clouds of smoke from the dual exhaust. It was only years of soft carbon accumulation burning off. Dad had never even seen a Weber carburetor until we got this thing home, and they had a horrendous reputation for being difficult to tune among shade-tree mechanics. Fortunately, the car came complete with a Six Pack engine manual that showed exactly how to tune these famous Italian carbs. Once he figured them out, Dad found the Webers straightforward to work on; the Charger ran like a sweetheart the whole time I had it.

I owned the Charger for a year, and loved it. It was loud and it was fast, even though it only had a three-speed stick shift (the 300-hp E49 Charger, launched in 1972, finally got the four-speed the car deserved). I put in stiffer shocks and a beefier front stabilizer bar and put a second bar on the rear axle. The stock steering wheel was changed for a smaller-diameter sports item.

I sold the Charger to buy a Mitsubishi Lancer. The gas mileage -- 9 mpg around town and 13 mpg on a good day -- meant I was spending a sizeable portion of my income on gas. And I was becoming interested in the idea of driving sideways down dirt tracks in a rally car. I can't remember how much I sold it for, but I do remember wondering whether I'd done the right thing.

I only ever saw it once after that, parked on a side street. The rear quarter panel had argued with a tree -- and lost. (Yep, the old girl sure oversteered when you gave her a bootful.) My once treasured Charger looked beat up and unloved, and it broke my heart. More than once over the years, as Australian musclecars have become more collectible, I've wished I'd never sold it. At least I still have the Six Pack manual.

So that's my one that got away. What's yours?