Here is the other side of the rust beast. Bear in mind, I didn't buy it to restore it. It shares the same chassis as my Fury, meaning that they share lots of parts. The engine, trans, and rearend are basically "bolt out - bolt in" deals with the Fury. Also, the mirrors, windshield wipers, some glass, and other goodies are interchangeable.
The hind quarters (or rear landing deck) Dig the cool back up lights and overall design of the rear valence. Also dig the factory dual exhaust (of which one side has fallen off).
Here is a crummy angle shot of the interior. Notice the "falley downey" headliner, which was immediately ripped down by me when I discovered it completely inhibited my rear view. All of the door panels, dash, and back seat are perfect, if anybody's interested.
The heart of the beast, and the sole reason for me buying it. 1968 440 TNT with a Holley Carbo feeding it. This is one point of perplexosity; I thought big Chrysler motors were topped with Carter AFB ThermoQuads. If anybody knows why this is, please email me.
Some Amusing Annecdotes with the 300
I've only driven this thing for 3 days, and let me tell you that they the best and worst 3 days of my motoring experience. Me and RJ Stani6 made the 5 hour trip (one way) to Marion, OH where it was located. When I handed over the money order, I realized the guy was running it without an air-cleaner. I went to Napa to get one, where I was raped ($30 for an entire shitty assembly). As I pulled out, I had to merge all the way to the right lane (from the left lane). Some jerk in a GMC (General Motor Crap) Sonoma was coming up behind me at like 60. I decided the guy needed to be cut off. I floored the accellerator rod (the pedal rusted off...more on that later), and BWAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!!! The 440 rocketed the 4000+ lb beast from 20mph to 50 mph in about one second, and pinned me against the seat. Totally awesome.
On the way home, I started to become noticeably sleepy. No matter what I tried, I could NOT stay awake. I also noticed the floor board was getting unnecessarily hot. Then I remembered that the guy had temporarily (crappily) welded a large piece of sheet metal in the floor board to cover a hole (and didn't attach the gas pedal: see above). I also realized that the exhaust note was loud because of holes in the exhaust. 2+2 = I was being lulled to sleep by carbon monoxide from exhaust entering the cabin. Yikes. I threw open the vents and rolled the windows down to allow fresh air in. That solved things. As horrible and scary as that all sounds, I still have to laugh about it.
I spent the night with RJ Stani6, and when I had to leave, I gave the car a once over for vitals. Water: check. Oil: check. Brake Fluid? Ut oh. The front chamber of the master cylinder was full of fluid (the guy thankfully replaced the front lines), but the rears were bone dry, with a stream of fluid coming out of the rear drums. One really neat thing about the car: brake fluid is the only thing it leaked; no oil or trans fluid. I drove home very carefully.
On the open road, there is nothing like 2 tons worth of Detroit Iron at your command. It was smooth sailing at 60 Mph (or "80," as the speedometer suggested). Take it anywhere past that, and the shitty used, out of round tires would shake the car. 60 was good enough, especially on bad brakes. If you took your foot off the pedal to slow down, the sure-grip inside the rear end cackled and smacked around in protest...good thing it held up.
I kept it here at Purdue for 2 weeks until I could take it home. I got home glitch free. What I'm saying is that this thing clicked off 700 miles with nary a hassle.
Back home, me, Shawn and Nick had some tire melting - smoke making - asphalt tearing fun around DP. I didn't make it to Honda Whore's house, but there will be time for that. Unfortunately, this was the last time I drove it, due to any of the following reasons: