Beautimous

What’s the best car you ever had? Mine was sleek, nimble, practical, utterly reliable and fun, with a very high cool factor. It had bucket seats, dual exhaust and four-on-the-floor. The best car I ever had was a 1968 Plymouth Barracuda. The ’68 model came in the series between the first Barracudas and the “E” body design, which appeared in 1970 with the Dodge Challenger. The ’67-‘69 Barracudas had smooth, European lines. Although basically still a Valiant underneath, I thought the ’68 ‘Cuda carried some of Detroit’s best body styling.

My ‘Cuda was a fastback with the legendary 318 V-8. The car had some interesting options: 4-speed manual transmission, heavy-duty suspension and a limited-slip, 8-3/4” rear axle with 3.23 gears. I’d say it was special-ordered. Someone wanted to see how the 318 would run with all the hardware intended for the high-performance 340. It worked out very well. Handling was exceptional. The beefy suspension glued the car to the road while the big, heavy back glass provided near-perfect weight distribution.

Beautimous first appeared to me in 1986 on a consignment lot in San Jose, California. I remember the moment: looking down a row of cars, I spotted the front anti-sway bar hanging boldly like the one on my Dart GTS, saw the Barracuda’s distinctive split grille and the round side marker lights that identified it as a ’68. It wore a coat of drab, dark green enamel, a sad imitation of its original color. Inside, I saw an Inland four-speed shifter in a center console. The odometer showed 163,000 miles. My then-wife and I met the owner for a test drive. The car ran well and a deal was made.

The ‘Cuda underwent a transformation. My friend Steve and I decided the black interior could work with any color, and together in his shop we painted the car a bright, metallic ocean blue with a polyurethane clear coat. A set of Rallye wheels went on, along with new, raised-white-letter tires. The single exhaust was split into duals with some nice baby turbo mufflers and rectangular chrome exhaust tips. The car looked and sounded great!

The 318 finally wore out at 190,000 miles. I rebuilt the entire engine using every skill and resource I had. In that process, I put in a modest RV cam (which I also “degreed-in”), had the heads ported and the rotating assembly custom-balanced. New forged pistons went in. How about adjustable rockers; a Cloyes double-roller timing chain; and a Melling high-volume oil pump? Hardened exhaust seats for unleaded fuel; electronic ignition; three-angle valve job; bronze valve guides; dampened valve springs; Fel-Pro gaskets; Clevite 77 crank bearings—the best. With all that invested, I beefed up the cooling with a 3-row radiator core and a 7-blade heavy-duty clutch fan.

I also did a little number on the transmission, fitting a new set of gears with a 0.73 overdrive. That was a big improvement. The original gears were for high performance: the 318 didn’t really benefit from those ratios. The new gears made it a simple 3-speed around town, plus a nice extra gear for the open road. That kept the 318 in its optimum range, making the ‘Cuda easier and even more fun to drive. The Inland/console setup came out and an excellent Hurst shifter went in.

In the summer of 1991, Beautimous earned its name by standing up to the brutal heat of California’s San Joaquin Valley. We lived in Visalia, 40 miles south of Fresno. My wife spent the whole season doing in-home health care. The little blue Plymouth ran up and down Highway 99 five days a week in triple-digit temperatures and never missed a beat. No boilovers, no stalls, not even the classic Chrysler alternator failure.

I went to work at an auto parts store and continued to keep Beautimous in top shape. It got the best of everything, including a complete front-end overhaul—which I did myself—and a masterful alignment at the best shop in the area. That, combined with a set of KYB Gas-A-Just shock absorbers gave the car superb handling qualities.

When I had my auto upholstery business, Beautimous benefited with a whole new interior. I changed the original black to a beautiful two-tone, white over dark blue. I did everything from the headliner to the carpet and carefully repainted all the interior metal and the dash. Late-model high-back bucket seats went in with new white upholstery. It all came together for a striking, sporty appearance.

Beautimous cemented its place in my heart and memory in the autumn of ’94, when we decided to leave Visalia and move to Sacramento. I was charged with finding a place to live up there, and due to the disrepair of our other cars at the time, only the Barracuda could make the trip. I took it up State Route 99 to the River City and all around that town for an entire day.

Late that evening, I turned for home. The heat of the day had abated. I took Highway 50 back to 99 South, cool air flowing through the car’s interior. Out of Sacramento and down through Elk Grove, doing about 75 in the fast lane, the 318 turning an easy 2800 rpm in overdrive.

Evening gave way to night. I had the window open about two inches from the top, yielding just the right amount of air. Dire Straits on the stereo: my favorite album, On Every Street. And I swear to you, somewhere on that run the car came alive. The engine smoothed out and ran the strongest it ever had. The throaty sound of its exhaust became another kind of music. The steering tracked perfectly, no need to correct. The ‘Cuda rode like it was on a rail, in what I can only describe as an automotive state of grace. Route 99 is rough territory, but Beautimous and I owned the road that night. We sailed down that hellworn highway as if pulled by a divine force that knew no friction.

I did not want that ride to end! When the Visalia exit came up I could have just kept right on going. I felt no fatigue at all. If I hadn’t had the responsibilities of a family man I would have been gone, down the road, adios.

Thirty years after it left the factory, Beautimous met its end on an urban street in Sacramento on June 26, 1998. A newly-licensed 16-year-old thought she could turn in front of us and smashed the front of her Buick into the ‘Cuda’s A-pillar, crushing the unibody’s main support and destroying the left side of our beautiful car. We were thrown sideways into the curb, collapsing the front suspension.

People got banged up, but no one was seriously hurt. Beautimous brought us through the way it always did: surely, and Valiantly.