Havaneiss Dei
New member
- Joined
- Dec 27, 2018
- Messages
- 1
- Reaction score
- 0
- Location
- USA
- My Car
- I've had 3; my first was a 1964.5 coupe (notchback) with a 260 and a floor-shifted 3-speed manual; my second was a 1971 Mach-1 and my third was a "1971-1972-and-1973" Mach-1. My current ride is a 2003 LTC Cartier L.
About 1979, I became the owner of a 1971 Mach-1 -- or, more accurately, what was left of a 1971 Mach-1. The kid who first owned it went through 7 engines and 4 transmissions, and an assortment of driveshafts, and I know at least the gearing in the rear axle wasn't original. I don't have any elapsed time claims from anyone who knew that guy or the car when it was in the original owner's hands, but several people told me he was making "well over 500 horsepower" and that the car would do "between 125 and 130" in the (standing-start) 1/4-mile.
My parents sacrificed hugely for me: the shell cost $300; that was my Christmas and my birthday present. I worked and saved, and my parents "matched" (and I believe probably over-matched) my contributions towards getting the car into a driveable condition; Dad did most of the labor while I watched and learned. The front brakes were drum units from a 1972 Maverick that was wicked quick for a 302-2V; it had been dad's mom's car, until it was smashed by a railroad locomotive. Word to the wise: a little drop of water may seem like nothing in the gas tank, but it will kill your engine at the most inopportune time.
I frankly don't know how the kid got fuel for the car: in those days, we didn't have SEFI and "ignition modules" were the closest thing we had to computer controls; the octane requirements had to be ridiculously high. I know he had access to drums of VP, and in those days you could get both 100/130 and 115/145 aviation gasoline at a nearby airport, but none of those options seemed reliable for a "street car" that guzzled the go-juice. Some suggested he was associated with the organized crime that ran the state in those days; whether that was true, I don't know, but I was (perhaps curiously) invisible to the police whenever I was in that car.
At some point, I learned from the kid's dad (who seemed astonished that I was actually driving the car) and from a few policemen that the car had been traveling at "more than 165 mph" when the driver lost control and the car had been sliced -- basically into two pieces -- by a telephone pole that passed through the car behind the front seats. I don't know how the kid survived that sort of crash, and the idea that the car had been repaired following that sort of catastrophic damage seemed incredible, but in the latter part of the mid-1980s, I decided to disassemble the car and rebuild it the way I really wanted it.
In the rear of the car was a shipping label very similar to the ones we used in air freight, and associated documentation basically indicating the back half of the car's unibody had been shipped to a local Ford dealer and a body shop; it didn't seem to me that it was a complete paper trail, but it certainly corroborated to me the claim the car had been split apart. The gears in the 9-inch rear provided a 2.75:1 reduction through an open differential; I think the axles were of the 28-spline variety -- which seems quite weak for the sort of power the previous owner had been sending to the ground.
So. In a SAE standard atmosphere, each cubic foot of air weighs 0.00256 pounds. If we assume the product of the aerodynamic drag coefficient and the car's frontal area (CdA) is 12.8903125 square feet, overcoming the aero drag at 165 mph requires 395.3 horsepower. Practical variations in air density will slightly change that number. When tuned well, the original Boss 351 engine (several of which had been the basis for the car's successive engines) could easily supply that much power while using the OE cast iron exhaust manifolds, without resort to exotic fuel or aftermarket hardware.
That leaves rolling resistance and post-(flywheel/flexplate) driveline losses, including slippage. Realistically, this is going to require roughly 499 lbs-ft of torque at 5800 rpm, assuming total net slippage of 4.37 percent. That seems easy enough, until you do the BMEP math: 213.934 psi, if the OE bore and stroke are retained; with a 0.060 overbore, the required BMEP drops to 207.658 psi. In the first few years of the 1970s, getting those BMEP levels from a gasoline-fueled, naturally-aspirated V8 was the automotive equivalent of landing a man on the Moon and safely returning him to earth in 1969.
However, it's too easy to simply claim "BS" and walk away: at least 4 of the engines the kid had run in the car had been strokers, and it's unclear whether any of the engines had been sleeved to allow 4.080-inch (popular in NHRA Pro Stock Clevelands) or larger bores. 366, 377, 393 and 408 combos were fairly popular in those days; a 408 would have delivered the power with a BMEP of 184.416 psi -- which is well within the realm of credibility.
My parents sacrificed hugely for me: the shell cost $300; that was my Christmas and my birthday present. I worked and saved, and my parents "matched" (and I believe probably over-matched) my contributions towards getting the car into a driveable condition; Dad did most of the labor while I watched and learned. The front brakes were drum units from a 1972 Maverick that was wicked quick for a 302-2V; it had been dad's mom's car, until it was smashed by a railroad locomotive. Word to the wise: a little drop of water may seem like nothing in the gas tank, but it will kill your engine at the most inopportune time.
I frankly don't know how the kid got fuel for the car: in those days, we didn't have SEFI and "ignition modules" were the closest thing we had to computer controls; the octane requirements had to be ridiculously high. I know he had access to drums of VP, and in those days you could get both 100/130 and 115/145 aviation gasoline at a nearby airport, but none of those options seemed reliable for a "street car" that guzzled the go-juice. Some suggested he was associated with the organized crime that ran the state in those days; whether that was true, I don't know, but I was (perhaps curiously) invisible to the police whenever I was in that car.
At some point, I learned from the kid's dad (who seemed astonished that I was actually driving the car) and from a few policemen that the car had been traveling at "more than 165 mph" when the driver lost control and the car had been sliced -- basically into two pieces -- by a telephone pole that passed through the car behind the front seats. I don't know how the kid survived that sort of crash, and the idea that the car had been repaired following that sort of catastrophic damage seemed incredible, but in the latter part of the mid-1980s, I decided to disassemble the car and rebuild it the way I really wanted it.
In the rear of the car was a shipping label very similar to the ones we used in air freight, and associated documentation basically indicating the back half of the car's unibody had been shipped to a local Ford dealer and a body shop; it didn't seem to me that it was a complete paper trail, but it certainly corroborated to me the claim the car had been split apart. The gears in the 9-inch rear provided a 2.75:1 reduction through an open differential; I think the axles were of the 28-spline variety -- which seems quite weak for the sort of power the previous owner had been sending to the ground.
So. In a SAE standard atmosphere, each cubic foot of air weighs 0.00256 pounds. If we assume the product of the aerodynamic drag coefficient and the car's frontal area (CdA) is 12.8903125 square feet, overcoming the aero drag at 165 mph requires 395.3 horsepower. Practical variations in air density will slightly change that number. When tuned well, the original Boss 351 engine (several of which had been the basis for the car's successive engines) could easily supply that much power while using the OE cast iron exhaust manifolds, without resort to exotic fuel or aftermarket hardware.
That leaves rolling resistance and post-(flywheel/flexplate) driveline losses, including slippage. Realistically, this is going to require roughly 499 lbs-ft of torque at 5800 rpm, assuming total net slippage of 4.37 percent. That seems easy enough, until you do the BMEP math: 213.934 psi, if the OE bore and stroke are retained; with a 0.060 overbore, the required BMEP drops to 207.658 psi. In the first few years of the 1970s, getting those BMEP levels from a gasoline-fueled, naturally-aspirated V8 was the automotive equivalent of landing a man on the Moon and safely returning him to earth in 1969.
However, it's too easy to simply claim "BS" and walk away: at least 4 of the engines the kid had run in the car had been strokers, and it's unclear whether any of the engines had been sleeved to allow 4.080-inch (popular in NHRA Pro Stock Clevelands) or larger bores. 366, 377, 393 and 408 combos were fairly popular in those days; a 408 would have delivered the power with a BMEP of 184.416 psi -- which is well within the realm of credibility.
