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Goodbye, Winter . . . . . Hello, Beautiful!
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I absolutely love this unrestored 1934 Terraplane.
The Terraplane was first introduced by Hudson in 1932 as an Essex model.
According to ads, it was named “Terraplane” because it heralded something new and thrilling in highway travel, “skimming, dashing, mile-eating, safely close-to-the-road swift, smooth motion such as has not been enjoyed before except in planing on the water and air.
That first year, the Terraplane was powered by a 193-cubic inch 70-hp engine (the next year an 8-cylinder 243-cubic inch with 94-hp became an option). To drive home the idea of how driving this car was like “aeroplaning”, the company engaged Amelia Earhart to launch the new auto. Here is Earhart christening the Terraplane with a bottle of aviation gasoline instead of champagne:
After a record-making coast-to-coast flight, Hudson officials met Earhart at Newark Airport to present her with a new convertible coupe:
Earhart was not given the car she had christened, because that car was presented to one of the Wright Brothers, Orville Wright. How cool is that?
Hudson didn’t just have genius marketing moves like these, it also had an outstanding product. The Terraplane promptly began breaking stock-car records for both acceleration and hill-climbing (including a new record for an annual race up Pikes Peak).
Despite all of this success, Hudson decided to drop the Terraplane from its lineup for 1939. What a loss.
Sources:
“Champion Flyer Gets New Essex.” Rochester Democrat and Chronicle, 4 September 1932, p.70.
Kimes, Beverly Rae and Henry Austin Clark, Jr. Standard Catalog of American Cars 1805-1842. Kraus Publications, 1985.
“Miss Earhart Christens Car with Gasoline.” Democrat Chronicle, 25 July 1932, p. 12.
“New Car Awaited Amelia at End of Nonstop Flight.” Somerset Daily Herald, 2 September 1932, p. 2.
Terraplane. Advertisement. Clarion Ledger, 23 March 1935, p.7.
Terraplane. Advertisement. The Dothan Eagle, 23 July 1932, p. 3.
Terraplane. Advertisement. The San Francisco Examiner, 23 July 1932, p. 4.
“Terraplane Gift Delights Wright.” Detroit Free Press, 9 October 1932, p. 10.
“The Eyes Have It.” Kentucky Advocate, 26 September 1932, p 10.
I recently picked up this striking instrument cluster:
It was originally in a 1930 Hudson:
The bold geometric shapes epitomize art deco style and represent the time period beautifully. I found a 1930 newspaper article that described the California debut of the ’30 Hudson that took place at the Walter M. Murphy building at the corner of Flower and Eleventh Streets in L.A.:
The Hudson’s premiere was apparently one auspicious occasion. It was a radio-broadcasted and star-studded event that included an orchestra, famous actors performing song-and-dance numbers and a fashion show featuring 26 beautiful models wearing everything from negligees to evening gowns.
Notice the odometer reads 90413:
That seems like a high number for the timer period, but not for this particular automobile. The Hudson was known for its reliability and won many endurance contests such as those listed in this advertisement:
The Hudson 213.8-cubic inch straight-eight was known as the “Great Eight” and was the best-selling 8-cylinder of 1930. It was offered in ten models on two chassis (119 and 126-wheel base) and prices started at $1050. Honestly, I would have bought it just for the dash.
Sources:
Film Stars Will Twinkle at Brilliant Opening of Walter M. Murphy Building Tonight.” Los Angeles Times, 15 January 1930, p. 11.
“Great Eight Novel Type in Hudsons.” Los Angeles Times, 15 January 1930, p. 11.
Hudson. Advertisement. The Santa Maria Daily Times, 11 January 1930, p. 8.
Hudson. Advertisement. Los Angeles Times, 7 August 1930, p. 7.
“U.S. Made Car Dominates in Stamina Test.” Oakland Tribune, 10 August 1930, p. 3.
Whatever the job, this awesome 1949 Studebaker 1 1/2-ton truck would make the work more enjoyable. Studebaker described it as husky, handsome and trustworthy, and I can’t disagree!
Notice that iconic Studebaker “rocket” hood ornament:
Studebaker also touted the “roomy, big-vision” cab:
Studebaker’s big trucks like this 1 1/2-ton and the 2-ton were powered by a 6-cylinder “Power Plus” engine and were available in four wheelbases:
The grille on this Chevy was part of the “Diamond Crown Speedline Styling” that was new for 1937. Chevy’s tagline was “The Complete Car – Completely New,” and other innovations like all-steel unisteel bodies by Fisher and new six-cylinder high-compression valve-in-head engines were enough to make Chevrolet the best-selling automobile that year.
And just like that, Nebraskans go from needing amphibious Amphicars to needing something like this:
That’s right, Nebraska, still not recovered from massive flooding, was treated to a blizzard this week. This Ford Model A snowmobile would be very handy for traversing the snow-covered roads, and it was actually called a snowmobile by inventor Virgil White. White was a New Hampshire Ford dealer, and he patented this special attachment for Ford cars and trucks in 1917.
The front wheels were replaced with runners that were 5 feet long and 18 inches wide. The rear axle was extended and wheels were added to hold the caterpillar tread. The kit sold for around $175 and was very popular, particularly with rural mail carriers and doctors.
Sources:
Constable, George N. “Snowmobile Ideas Began Drifting Around in 1913.” News Journal [Mansfield], 21 January 1986, p. 1-B.
“Ford Turns Out the Snowmobile.” The Calgary Daily Herald, 7 March 1925, p. 20.
“Snowmobiles for Automobiles is New Idea; Scheme Tested.” The Windsor Star, 10 January 1925, p. 3.
The Snowmobile. Advertisement. The Burlington Free Press, 6 October 1923.
Although this Amphicar was not American-made, it was marketed primarily to Americans. It was an amphibious automobile invented by German Hans Trippel and was produced from 1961 to 1968.
Twin propellers (located under the rear of the car) were easily engaged with a shift knob.
The front tires acted as rudders and special seals around the doors and engine compartment kept the water out. It had stamped steel body panels, a Porsche transmission and suspension made by Mercedes-Benz. Power was supplied by a rear-mounted 43-hp 4-cylinder Triumph engine. Newspaper accounts vary, but top land speed was around 65-70 mph with water speed somewhere around 10-12 mph.
The Amphicar was apparently seaworthy, crossing the English Channel from Calais to Dover in 5.5 hours in 1962. Back in the states, a salesman demonstrating one at a lake in Texas said, “Most of the time people think I’m either a drunk who has run his car off into the lake, or some crazy nut.”
Another story about the Amphicar from 1962 asked, “Who needs bridges anymore?” Good point! With many bridges destroyed by historic flooding, thousands of Nebraskans would find an Amphicar extremely useful about now.
Sources:
“Amphicar Demonstrator Discovers People are Curious.” The Irving Daily News Texan, 7 October 1962, p. 9.
“Amphicar – Hans Trippel Knew How to Make Hope Float.” Fort Myers News-Press, 6 October 2004.
“Chemist Goes by Water in His car.” The Sidney Herald Morning Sun, 25 April 1965, p. 17.
Hill, Michael. “What Has Four Wheels and Floats?” Chicago Tribune, 8 January 1995, p. 6.
“Hope Wasn’t Enough to Make This Idea Float.” Chicago Tribune, 24 October 2007, p. 2.
Ianfield, Peggy. “Amphicars Startle Cape Coral Area.” Fort Myers News-Press, 29 July 1962, p. 5-C.
McGuire, Michael. “Cars Ahoy, Hail Drivers During Plunge in Lake.” Chicago Tribune, 1 August 1965, p. 1.
“Sports Car – Boat Too.” The Nashville Tennessean, 7 October 1962, p. 6-C.
This story appeared in the May 24, 1936, edition of the Los Angeles Times. The speed being made in L.A. was the mighty Offenhauser, the engine that revolutionized racing, and it was named for this man:
And yes, I know there are others that share the credit for the Offenhauser (or “Offy”), men like Miller and Goossen, Meyer and Drake. The definitive story about the men who built the Offenhauser has already been written by Gordon Eliot White (Offenhauser: The Legendary Racing Engine and the Men Who Built It), and if you haven’t read it, you should. I’m partial to Fred Offenhauser himself, however. Quiet, steady, practical and competent, he isn’t the type of flamboyant showman who usually gets the glory in automobile industry history.
Fred Offenhauser was the son of German immigrants and he was drawn to machinery at an early age. Employed as a machinist from the age of 14, he worked his way up to plant superintendent for racecar designer and builder Harry Miller. So, for instance, when famed racer Frank Lockhart asked for an engine to use in challenging a world record in 1928, Offenhauser and crew made up a powerful 8-cylinder by hooking two 91-inch 4-cylinder motors together. With skills like this, Miller’s staff created engines that were dominating the race tracks by the end of the 1920s. When Miller went bankrupt during the Depression in 1933, Offenhauser bought Miller’s equipment and set up shop. He made changes to the Miller, redesigning connecting rods and blocks, improving the crankshaft and crankcase and giving other new twists to the motors to enable them to withstand faster speeds and new fuel restrictions. Offenhauser had never driven a race car himself, famously saying that he rode in one once as a mechanic and that once was enough. His engines did revolutionize racing, however.
On the midget track, outboard motors, motorcycle engines and even washing machine parts were used before the Offy, often with disappointing results. According to a 1937 newspaper story, once Fred Offenhauser turned his attention to the problem, “midgets began going places”. The sport mushroomed and crowds were sometimes so large that spectators had to be turned away.
By 1936, Offenhauser had been building engines for Indy for a score of years, but he didn’t witness his first Indy race until 1936 when ten of his engines were competing. The previous year, his engines had finished first and second. By 1937, he was ten for ten. An Offenhauser won in 1941, the last race before interruption by WW2, and in 1946, when Indy started up again, 16 of 53 cars were powered by Offys. Offenhauser sold his business to Miller and Drake in 1946, and they continued to dominate the world of racing. One 1948 story about Indy put it this way: “As usual, it will be Miller, Offenhauser, Meyer and Drake against the world – with the world a minority.”
So what made the Offenhauser so special? It was a high-horsepower, reliable, 4-cylinder twin-cam engine. The cylinder head and cylinder block were all one piece, making gaskets unnecessary. One 1936 story described the original engine as weighing 345 pounds and having a displacement of 225 cubic inches (4 ¼ bore and 4 ½ stroke). It was capable of producing 5200 rpms. The crankcase was made of an aluminum alloy and the crankshaft was cut from a solid piece of steel and hollowed out for lightness. The types of materials used were so important that Offenhauser was quoted as saying “I could give another machinist a complete set of our plans and he could not turn out the kind of motor that we do.” The engine was also heat-treated three times to remove stresses within the metal, to keep it from literally flying to pieces.
In the 1950s, the 251.89 Offy could produce 420hp. After some alterations by race teams, the engines could produce up to three horsepower per cubic inch in an age when muscle cars were aiming for one. The Offy’s domination of racing made it a target of jealous rivals, and so the engine was the victim of rule changes throughout its existence. You’ve heard the saying, “If you can’t beat them, join them”? With the Offenhauser it was more like, “If you can’t beat them, change the rules”. As a result, the Offenhauser today can mainly be seen in museums and vintage groups. They are still a draw, however, and people frequently refer to the sound, that distinctive growl. It must sound like the song of the siren to some, and that brings me to the story of this vintage 220 Offenhauser sprint car:
The most recent chapter in this car’s story begins with my friend Steve Lowe, who, like Fred Offenhauser, is a pragmatic and responsible type. So pragmatic, in fact, that it is somewhat surprising he was inspired to rescue this Offy. The car was located in Sooke, British Columbia, and he discovered it one night while surfing the net. Sooke isn’t exactly down the street from Kearney, Nebraska, so he approached his friend Bill, thinking Bill would talk him out of it. Instead, Bill assured him that it was a completely awesome idea (everyone should have a friend like Bill), and they were off on a 3400-mile round-trip road trip to pick up this vintage Offy. Which, by the way, was in pieces. Literally. The rear end gears were in an old milk crate, and another milk crate held motor mounts and a shifter. Still other parts were packed into plastic tubs, but at least it was a beginning.
Lowe contacted Bill Akin in Tennessee, whose name he had seen in Hot Rod magazine, and told him he needed someone to put the pieces together. Akin told him “I’m not that guy,” and put him in touch with Steve Truchan of Gary Bridge & Iron in Gary, Indiana. Truchan assembled the engine, and work on the chassis was performed by Jim Mann.
Consider, though, for a moment, the amount of racing tradition associated with this one sprint car. First, it is powered by an Offenhauser, likely the greatest racing engine of all time. Steve Truchan has worked on many Offenhausers and, in fact, had worked on this one before (a former owner apparently took it apart just to see how it worked, and then couldn’t put Humpty together again). Truchan himself grew up around the racetrack because his dad, also named Steve Truchan, was a racecar builder and driver. The elder Truchan was the real deal, and his name was all over the racing pages of newspapers throughout the 1930s and 1940s. Reporters described him as a “tall, sturdily built speedster,” an “ace of the flat track” and, in 1939, as the “sensational youngster who defeated a fast field at Hammond raceway yesterday”. The cars he raced were powered by Offenhausers, Millers or a “Truchan special” that he built himself. As if all that weren’t enough, Lowe has done his own research and has concluded that this car was actually one of the “McNamara Specials” owned by Lee Elkins and driven by racing legends like Mike Nazaruk. Talk about being steeped in history.
This finished product is nothing short of a work of art. And no, Lowe doesn’t want to race around a track any more than Fred Offenhauser did. He simply enjoys the beauty and craftsmanship of this growling, gleaming piece of racecar history that he now owns, and that makes perfect sense to me.
Sources:
Burgess, Dale. “Facts on Speedway Set Out For Junior.” The Arizona Republic [Phoenix], 30 May 1948, p. 2.
“Elkins Sends City’s Third Auto to Memorial Day Race.” The South Bend Tribune, 6 May 1951, p. 3.
“Familiar Race Faces Appear at Speedway.” The Dayton Herald, 6 May 1941, p. 17.
“Fred Offenhauser Builds Ten Racers.” The Indianapolis Star, 30 May 1936.
Hamilton, Andy. “Speed – Made in Los Angeles.” Los Angeles Times Sunday Magazine, 24 May 1936, p. 3.
“It’s Offenhauser Motors Against World Again in Indianapolis Race.” The San Bernardino County Sun, 13 May 1946, p. 8.
Kimbrough, Bobby. “Offenhauser. The Greatest Racing Engine Ever Built?” Enginelabs, 24 December 2012, https://www.enginelabs.com/features/offenhauser-the-greatest-racing-engine-ever-built. Accessed March 1, 2019.
“Mighty Midget Builder Mad.” The Los Angeles Times, 7 November 1934, p. 21.
Moore, Charles. “Offenhauser V-8 Prepared for Shipment to Indianapolis.” .” The San Bernardino County Sun, 22 April 1941.
“Ready for Next Races.” The Terra Haute Tribune, 5 October 1952, p. 49.
“Star Drivers Will Appear at Playland.” The South Bend Tribune, 3 July 1939, p. 6.
Swanson, Bob. “Cracker Box to Mighty Midget.” Los Angeles Times Sunday Magazine, 22 December 1935, p. 8.
“Truchan First Entry on Race Card Tuesday.” The South Bend Tribune, 28 June 1939, p. 1.
White, Gordon Eliot. Offenhauser: The Legendary Racing Engine and the Men Who Build It. Brattleboro, Vermont, Echo Point Books & Media, 1996.
Packard’s production numbers soared in 1937, and with a grille like this, it’s easy to see why. The Packard was offered in four models in ’37, the Twelve, the Super Eight, the 120 and the new Packard Six.
The Twelve was powered by a 473.3 cubic inch V-block engine. Both the Super Eight and the 120 had straight-eights, with 320 and 282 cubic inches, respectively, and the new Six featured a 237 cubic inch inline-six.
The Six was the bargain of the bunch with prices starting at just $795. Prices started at $945 for the 120 and $2,335 for the Super Eight. The Twelve was the luxury model with prices beginning at $3,420 (that’s around $60,000 in today’s dollars)!
Sources:
Kimes, Beverly Rae and Henry Austin Clark, Jr. Standard Catalog of American Cars 1805-1942. Krause Publications, 1985.
“Packard Announces Four Complete Lines of Cars for 1937.” The Detroit Free Press, 6 September 1936, p. 8.
Packard. Advertisement. Pittsburgh Sun Telegraph, 18 September 1936, p. 33.
Packard. Advertisement. The Enquirer [Cincinnati], 15 November 1936, p. 12.
Driver Sam Hanks in 1943, looking handsome in uniform:
Prior to the war, Hanks had primarily been a midget racer although he had appeared in a couple of Indy races. He had also worked as a “technical representative” for Fred Offenhauser. Once the war started, Hanks joined the ranks of automobile mechanics, designers, builders and racers who used their skills to help America win the war. The author of this particular story put it this way:
“The boys who used to used to roar around a dirt track in midget automobiles taking their lives in their hands everytime they sat behind a steering wheel of the bouncing bantams now are proving their worth to the war effort.”
When this story was written, Hanks had joined the army and was stationed at Wright Field where he was applying his technical knowledge of motors to aircraft engines. When asked about his post-war plans, Hanks replied that his racing equipment was in storage, and that he was heading back to the tracks once the war was over. He did just that and went on to win Indy in 1957. He retired after that win and was Director of Racing at Indy from 1958 to 1979.
Source: Howard, Bob. “Sam Hanks Stationed at Local Field.”Dayton Sunday Journal Herald, 20 June 1943, p. 2.