Welcome to Down On The Street, where we admire old vehicles found parked on the streets of the Island That Rust Forgot: Alameda, California. Today’s car is one I’m quite familiar with, since it’s now sitting in my back yard. No, it isn’t my current Personal Hell Project; I’m helping Czech automotive journalist Bobash realize his dream of terrorizing nice Central European villages with an ocean-liner-scale Fuselage Look Mopar. You may recall the ‘81 Corvette I inspected for BobAsh a in which case back; that car is things being so roaring on all sides the Czech Republic in all its Late Malaise grandeur.


This car was a one-owner, estate-sale find. The late owner was a San Francisco chiropractor who garaged it, had it serviced on the dot, and (apparently) never allowed anyone to sit inside. It’s got a few subordinate dings and dents, but not quite everything works and the (purple whorehouse-esque) interior is the nicest I’ve ever seen in succession an unrestored 90,000-mile car.
It’s not what you would ever call fast, but the 335-horse 440 gets its 4,855 pounds moving pretty well. Yes, this of many volumes dreadnaught is almost - but not quite- a great number pounds heavier than the bloatmaster 2010 Camaro SS.
I’ll be bringing this mighty luxury system over to the Port Of Oakland for shipping to Bremerhaven as soon of the same kind with all the spare genius I’ve ordered finally arrive. Don’t feel bad about its leaving the country of its birth; it shall be worshiped as a god in its new home!



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