In case you've never heard of Lebowski Fest, or God forbid, The Big Lebowski, it's a festival celebrating the movie about about a slacker and the hijinks he gets into after a case of mistaken identity and a soiled rug. Lebowski Fest is attended by all manner of degenerate, dressed up as their favorite character or donning some costume only understandable if you've memorized every word of the script. Drunken nerds, basically, of which we'll include ourselves.

One of the events was pulled from a scene in the movie, in which the character Walter tosses what's supposed to be ransom money from a moving car, instead it's a ringer, a bag of his dirty undies. Ever thus was created the Ringer Fling. A doller bought you the chance to throw a ringer from a very well worn, and super-cool Plymouth Fury acting as a stand-in for the Gran Torino used in the film at on of the "kidnappers," here, an effigy of Richard Nixon for reasons too complex to explain here. All proceeds from the event, along with those from the "Marmot fling" which was odd in its own way, went to benefit children's charities. The Achievers (those in attendance, it's another long story) certainly enjoyed it, and the car made us happy inside.

We're happy to add Mr. Gray's shots to Jalopnik Car Photography Canon, which includes the work of such photographers as Dave Glass, Martin Taylor, Andrew Bush, Troy Paiva, and Paul Novak. Here's what Mr. Gray has to say about his American Cars project:

As the project grew, I realized I was approaching the parked cars in the same way a photographer would shoot a portrait. Whether gleaming and restored, or beat-up and deteriorating, each car had its own character and story. The American landscape serving as backdrop is also part of the story of these cars, which were mostly produced here in the U.S. before the decline of Detroit's big automotive companies. I photographed the cars as I found them, using mostly medium format cameras, as well as some large format and digital cameras.

[Kevin Gray Photography, Order prints from Etsy]

Wimbles knows how to work a camera, took the time to ID all the vehicles he shot, and even cropped/resized them to the gallery-friendly 1280-pixel width we like best. This is the very best way to send in DOTSBE photos. I'll let Wimbles describe what he's found:

I'm relatively new to Jalopnik but I've always been interested in your Down on the Street series. I'm a college student going to school in San Francisco and I see a lot of cool old cars parked on the streets when I'm in town. Lately I've been photographing more and more of them in DOTS style and I figured I'd give it a shot trying to submit some for DOTSBE.

For starters, here's a 1973 Ford Torino sedan. This is probably the first one I've ever actually noticed on the street and caught my eye because I'm used to seeing the arguably better-looking Gran Torinos. Fancy seeing a plain blue, beat-up standard '73 Torino in a place as progressive as San Francisco! It was seen parked on Telegraph Hill.

I'm not sure about the year of the Dodge A-100 Tradesman, but it looks to be approximately a 1968 model judging by the style of badging and the reflectors on the doors. I could be wrong. Until I saw this one, I wasn't aware that the Tradesman name was used prior to the B-Series vans of the '70s. It appears to be in generally good condition for its age, though it has some worrisome rust on the passenger side doors. It was seen parked on Telegraph Hill near COIT Tower.
This van has been seen on DOTSBE before, but it was part of a series of street parking profile shots by Martin Taylor.

Continuing the Mopar series is a 1965 Plymouth Barracuda. I see this car parked and driving every so often and have had two opportunities to photograph it (evident from the markedly different weather in the various pictures). It is equipped with the 273CI Commando V8. It was photographed in the Financial District. Interestingly enough, I have seen another Barracuda (brown, '67-69) parked on this same street in the past and have gotten a couple of snapshots of it, but nothing DOTS-worthy.

Next up for this run is a 1979 Plymouth Sapporo which lives just north of Alamo Square. I have seen this car driving once. I actually stumbled upon its home by sheer coincidence while returning from a long walk to the Panhandle in a fruitless attempt to grab some DOTS photos of the Porsche 356 and Volkswagen Transporter Syncro 4WD extended cab utility body pickup I had briefly snapped on a previous date.

Lastly, we have a very interesting find. A 2002-05 JDM Daihatsu Move Custom, probably fresh off the boat in America as it has no plates. But they wasted no time in decking this little kei car out inside with everything kawai they could find. It has a sticker on the rear hatch from Uemuru Motor, which is apparently an auto wholesaler in Callao, Peru.

Perhaps the second-gen Mercury Cougar took such a beating from the Volvo in yesterday's matchup because most folks much prefer the styling of the first-gen 1967-70 models. If so, today's cat might have a better chance, because it's a 1970 model (go here if the ad disappears), though it does have a semi-hot-rodded Windsor 302 in place of the (arguably) superior 351 Cleveland. Wait a second- does this car have a five-speed and a posi 9" Ford rear with a price tag of just 1,200 bucks? How can that be? Well, for starters, it's missing "grill, tail lights, int, dash, ect," and we're pretty sure those JC Whitney leaf spring shackles are there to shore up hopelessly saggy rear springs.

It's pretty tough to fit a 429 or 460 in a Cougar- sure, Ford managed to do it, but the parts you'll need to make it happen in your garage aren't exactly clogging up the junkyards these days. An early-70s Torino or Montego, on the other hand, is no sweat when it comes to big-block fun, as their Malaise-bloated commodious lines needed were ideally suited for big-block power. And what have we here? A '72 Ford Torino GT (go here if the ad disappears) in nice, not-so-rusty condition for a mere $3,600. It's got a factory tach, bench seat, and a 429 engine that "did run when it was pulled from the car several years ago" in place of the now-long-gone original 351W. You also get a "C7" automatic, which might be a rare Ford prototype unit. Come on, how hard could it be? OK, cast your vote, then read Graverobber's addition to the PCH Tirade™ Canon!

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No, the car for you is the Torino. You've been eyeing them in the papers and online for years, and now is the time to pull the trigger. Why are you so keen on a Torino? Because you are obsessed with The Road Warrior and are looking to emulate Mad Max and drive around in his black Interceptor, telling people G'day and drinking Foster's. But you're not just obsessed, you spend almost every waking moment thinking about Mel Gibson in his tattered leathers, snaking along lonely back roads and desert highways seeking vengeance on wrongdoers. This is why you've moved your family to the high desert of the American southwest, as it's the most Aussie-like place you feel you can live. Since you live in the States, and can't easily import an Australian XB GT Ford Falcon Coupe, a Torino will have to do.

So you head out to Mesa and talk the seller down to $2500. Packing everything up in your trailer you head home, dreaming of eight side pipes, roof wing and a Concorde nose for the car. Getting home, the first thing you do is have it painted black. Not just black however, but the black of the soul of a rouge aussie biker. You drop in a proper 351 and add a Weiand blower that you also found on craigslist. A hole punched through the hood clears the gaping maw of the Scott injector hat. Pulling out the back window, you add massive fuel tanks to feed this beast, and as the coup de grâce you hand-fashion the Concorde nose out of fiberglass and aluminum mesh. You're tribute is nearly complete, and it is a thing of ominous beauty!

One thing that you don't take into consideration is the enormous thirst for high-octane fuel of the blown motor. It's so bad that you're on a first name basis with the guy that runs the only gas station in the desert who sells 100-proof racing gas. You take 55-gallon drums to the station to fill so you won't have to rely on the vagaries of his distributor to keep that thirsty v8 fed.

It's on one of these trips for fuel and supplies (Slim Jims and Cactus Cooler 6-packs) that things start to go wrong. While standing in the back of your pickup, filling a drum with racing gas, you notice a rough, black-painted motorcycle parked near the station entrance. Sitting on the back is an effete-looking young dude with flowing blond hair and a dog collar. Inside the gas station the bike's pilot is having an animated discussion with FiFi, the owner. You guess that FiFi is telling him that you've bought the last of the 100 octane - as the pump clicks off and you thread the cap back on the drum - and the guy doesn't like that. He comes storming out of the station, and you can see that he's wearing some sort of leather chaps/loincloth combo, and sports a rather lurid mix of a mohawk and eyeliner that makes him appear to be a refugee from a Judas Priest groupie brigade. He runs toward you and leaps on top of the near-by pumps. Youoooo! he fairly hisses, pointing at you as though to mark you. You took the gas! You take it, we kill you! Kill you! Kill! Kill! You can run, but you can't hide! Haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa! And with that he jumps to his bike, starting it, throwing it into gear and peeling out of the station in one fell swoop. You stand there dazed, staring at the black stripe left on the apron. After a minute, you regain your composure and head for home.

While driving through town, you notice more graffiti than you remember. And a lot of stores are closed and boarded up. Down a few blocks and you see there are overturned cars and flaming barrels of trash. Things have really gotten bad while you were working on the Torino and you mutter to yourself - should have voted for Obama I guess. Getting home you are greeted by your wife who is frantic and crying. What's the matter? you ask, brushing back a lock of her curly brown hair from her forehead. Oy she says, your gander's dead.You look at her in horror. Not your gander. Not the beloved pet of your youth. You kept him in the backyard, in the pond, and have had him for most of your life. Now you run back there, your wife running behind you screaming No! Don't look, it's too 'orrible! You find him next to the pond, burned beyond recognition. Holding your hand to his throat you check for a pulse. Not finding one, you try another spot. His neck is really long so this takes a while, but you eventually convince yourself that he is dead. Standing up you look away from the body not willing to accept that your treasured fowl is no more. He lived a good lifeyour wife offers, trying to comfort you. You turn away- That... THING... is NOT my goose! you shout at her, pointing at the still-smoking corpse. Still reeling from the day's events, you eat him for dinner, but the pain lingers and despite his crisp skin and moist, succulent meat, you can't fully enjoy the meal. You go out to the garage and slide under the back of the Torino. There you check on the machete secreted next to the factory tank, and flip the switch on the booby trap. Then you hit the hay early and suffer a fitful night of sleep.
In the early morning, you are jarred awake by what sounds like a squadron of F18s outside of your house. You run to the front window, your wife - cradling your son right on your tail. Out the window, you can't believe your eyes- the house is surrounded by junker cars, most of which have some sort of projectile weapon crudely mounted on top, behind these circle an endless number of dunebuggies and motorcycles, each piloted by the most heinous, dirty, evil-looking scum of the earth imaginable.

At the center of the melee is an enormous, dual-engine, six-tired monstrosity of a truck, and atop that is a man that looks like a pale incarnation of Arnold Schwarzenegger, wearing a hockey mask and a pleather speedo. A small man wearing some sort of raccoon runs up and shouts Greetings from the Humungous. The Lord Humungous. The warrior of the wasteland. The ayatollah of rockin' rollah!

You can't believe this is happening, and think back to your college philosophy professor who told you that karma was a very real phenomenon and that you should be careful about what you wished for, as it may come to pass, but not in the manner you wanted. Humungous stands and addresses the house through a megaphone: There has been too much violence, too much pain. We want the gas. Give it to us and you shall live. Just walk away and there will be an end to the horror. Just walk away.

Overhead you hear the sound of angry bees and look up to see an autogyro passing in the sky. Making eye contact with the lanky pilot, he shakes his head as if to say You're on your own and flies off over the horizon.

Geez, you think to your self, I'm in some pretty deep diggery doo. What'll we do? your wife shouts as the baby cries in her arms. How'll we get out of here?! You think for a moment, and then you hit upon a plan. Get the baby seat you tell her, and take it to the garage. You run into the bedroom and open a box that has been at the very back of your closet. From it you pull a pair of leather pants and a jacket. It's a struggle to fit into them, as you're a middle-aged American male and have been fattened up by corporate America intent on one day turning you into Soylent Green, but somehow you fit. Running to the garage you hear a scratching at the back door. You grab a tire iron and throw open the door, ready to wage violence upon whoever is there. Instead of a foe, a dog runs into the house. He's a mottled brown and tan and is wearing a red bandanna around his neck. You recognize him at once as a dingo and shout come on boy, let's go! He jumps into the Torino, turns and faces out the passenger side window and begins to bark ferociously.
You slide under the back of the car and flip off the booby trap. Pulling yourself up you meet your wife's eye from the window. Oy! She says, and spells "Crazy about you" in sign language to you. Since you never learned sign, you look at her quizzically and then leap into the driver's seat of the ebony interceptor, it's lowered nose pointed eastward at the garage door and towards the rising sun. You hope your wife understands the plan. You hope that the circling hoard take the bait. Hope is all you have.

Giving the dingo's head a shake, you turn the key and the big motor leaps to life. The eight side pipes flame with un-burned fuel, and the blower whines like a dentist's drill. You throw it in gear and punch it. Instantaneously you are thrown back in your seat, and into daylight as the car blows through the aluminum door and onto the driveway. You have a fairly clear shot, as most of the freak show has parked on the front lawn, likely due to their mostly being from Fontana.

You dodge a dunebuggy, catching one of its wheels and sending it flipping into a ditch ejecting the driver who's head is removed by the roll bar as he is violently thrown out. Shooting across the lawn, you snag the corner of a tent in the encampment, pulling it off of two grungy fornicating freaks. They shake their fists at you and the woman manages to pop off a couple of .38 rounds in your direction, all the while as they continue to be attached at the hip, humping furiously. The dingo barks at them and provides his own "lipstick salute."

Over the curb and on the road you look in the rearview to see the hoard turning to pursue you. Behind them, you see your wife, in her yellow van heading in the opposite direction, and no one following her. Your plan is working.

Hitting the highway you open her up. This is the first chance you've really had to enjoy the car and you marvel at the power and the noise uttering forth from beneath the hood.

The maddening hoard is right on your tail, led by the biker with the mohawk and his Andy Gibb look-alike friend. You floor it, but his bike is fast too and he maneuvers up next to your right-rear wheel. He has some sort of cross-bow on his wrist, and he's trying to shoot barbs into the tire. Watching in the side-view, you time his attack and at the right moment tap the brakes. He fires the arrows, which miss the tire, but lodge in the gunwall of the car. The silver shafts penetrate the interior, and the dingo bites and growls at them. Looking in the mirror, you realize that they were on cables, and the biker is now attached by them to your car! Pulling up the red lever next to the shifter, you engage the nitrous, and gain a few hundred horsepower. The bike can't keep up and both the rider and his compatriot are pulled from their mount and dragged under the massive crush of your rear tire. You feel the car lurch as you run over them, you hear metal crush, bone snap and flesh rend from tendon as they're turned into crow food. Looking back after the carnage you see two of your pursuers swerve to avoid the tangle of bike and rider and slam into the abutments on either side of the road sending their occupants into the Joshua trees and certain demise.

You think you're out of the woods by now, flying down the valley floor at 150 miles per hour, the dingo with his head hanging out the window looks like caricature as the wind whips his jowls into an unearthly smile.

Suddenly you're thrown forward and the car swerves from side to side. It's all you can do to regain control and you've lost a lot of speed. You check the mirror and there, right on your tail, is Humungous in the twin-engined nightmare. Two of his minions are crawling forward on it, swinging chains each with a mace on the end. One swings his and catches the lip of the trunk opening, and pulls it tight. You gas it and yank him off of the front of the monstrosity and onto the rough macadam. His hand is wrapped around the chain as he's dragged behind you, bouncing violently. He first loses his pants, which flap up and into the face of the second minion still riding the grill of your pursuer. Flipping on his back to save his manhood from being scraped off, he looses both buttcheeks to the road, and eventually is pulled under Humungous and to his death. He is replaced on the front of the truck by another who is armed with a cross bow, which is now aimed at your head. The dingo barks out the back window at him, and you remember your "secret weapon". You flip open the glove box and pull out a sawed off double-barrel shotgun. Holding it back over your shoulder, you're nearly deafened by the explosions, and the dingo ducks down and returns to barking after the shot. In the rearview you see the minion with the crossbow standing on the front bumper of the following truck looking down at where his stomach used to be. It has been replaced by your shotgun blast with a hole the size of a grapefruit and he falls forward where he is caught by the front tire. Somehow unable to un-snag the corpse, he spins around and around causing the vehicle to bounce and to slow and fall off pace. Overhead, the gyrocopter reappears and drops Molotov cocktails onto Humungous, who fires a .357 at him in retaliation. The gyro-man loses control and falls to the desert floor.

This is your chance you realize. There's enough space between you and humungous, and the following hoards as you pull to the right, scraping the shoulder and describing an arc across the two-lane. Humungous, too far behind to attack, can only follow. You head back down the desert road, returning in the direction from which you just came. Hitting the nitrous again the wheels squeal to gain grip as you are thrown back in your seat from the monstrous acceleration. Humungous, thinking he has you trapped and not wanting to loose the chase does the same and leaps forward spilling minions backwards and leaving a trail of smoke.

Sailing down the road at 170 you face wall to wall freak-mobiles baring down on you. Behind you, their leader is gaining on you as well, the gap closing by the second. You pass the wreckage of the biker and look over at your companion. The dingo, panting in the passenger seat, looks at you and, as though he can read your mind, dives to the floorboard and braces against the firewall. You put on your seatbelt.

You return your attention to the task at hand and bury the go pedal in the black carpet, giving it all she's got. The distance between you and the hoard is closing. That between you and Humungous is even closer- 100 feet, 75, 50... At the very last possible instant, you throw the wheel sideways, the tires scream for grip and you rocket off of the road and into weeds. Hitting the soft sand you dig-in and flip end over end over end. Your head feels like you've had too many Mojitos and then was put in a blender, and you taste dirt and copper in your mouth.

Your amazing maneuver is so unexpected it leaves Humungous momentarily dazed, and that is enough. LOOK OUT screams the minions on the hood as they barrel down on the closing hoard. Humungous' eyes literally pop out of his mask as the truck slams head-on into the racing collection of road flotsam. A fireball erupts from the macadam and the conflagration envelopes them completely. Flaming body parts are strewn across the road, soon to be fodder for coyotes.

You awake to the dingo licking your face, and your initial thought is good dog but then you realize that he was licking the blood off your face and had you stayed passed out much longer he might have eaten your face off. Go on! you tell him, and extract yourself from the wreak. Surveying the damage you see that it's not as bad as you had expected, and the car might even be drivable once back on its wheels. Walking to the back, you hold your hand under the stream pouring from the overturned fuel drum. Sand. Many miles away your wife and son would have the fuel, hidden in the van, driven to safety. They would be able to barter it for food and shelter in this crazy new world. They would be alright. They would travel far beyond the reach of men on machines and you will never see them again, you will live only in their memories. You have been reborn on this road today. Not just a mid-level pencil-pusher. No longer a waspy guy with a beer gut. No more just a Jalopnik commenter, you are now, and forever will be known as...The Road Warrior.

Aside from the obvious 'holy-crap-that's-crazy' bodywork, this car features details rarely — if ever — seen on cars of any era, much less new ones. First, and the one we love the most, is the Pitot-static tube mounted on the roof. It takes engineers to decide the best way to determine high speeds is to measure stagnation against ambient pressure. The car also has an internally regulated, kinetically charged lap watch for visual measurement, even though it can record up to 40 laps of telemetry data for analysis after a run. Traction control comes at three different levels: attentive nanny, annoyed boss, and teenage babysitter, so you can go digging into the deepest recesses of the cookie jar. There's just so much good stuff packed into this car press release. we just hope it's not some kind of ultimate vaporware experiment. That would make us very, very sad. We still don't know what this rig costs, but we assume it's in the range of "If you have to ask you don't want to know." Business and technical press release below. (Thanks Martin!)

FORMAL PRESS RELEASE

After three months of tests and trials Spadaconcept - the
Italian design studio founded by Paolo Spada (former designer at
Smart and Honda) together with his father Ercole, (former chief
designer at Zagato and BMW), Domiziano Boschi (former Mc Kinsey) and
Wojtek Sokolowski - has launched the production of its supercar, the
Spada TS Codatronca. With this car Spadaconcept cherishes and revives
the important heritage of Ercole Spada and the philosophy which
characterized each of his creations. The company's vision is centered
on "functional design", which, according to Ercole Spada, means to
allow functionality of an object to express itself through its shape.
Following this vision Spadaconcept came up with a genuinely breaking
product, something bold an daring. Far from creating a show car where
anything is allowed, Spadaconcept has worked within strict
feasibility constraints in order to reach the quality standards of a
niche, handcrafted production, maximizing performance by introducing
aerodynamic lines such to mould a light and essential body. The
result is an extremely stable and manageable car, able to achieve
good racing performances by exploiting at the best the power of its
engine, with an original and nimble shape and essential but elegant
interiors.

The first version, named TS (Turismo Sportivo), is a car with an
aspired engine of more than 600-horse with race performances. Despite
the focus at Spadaconcept wasn't on "pure" power but rather on
aerodynamics, lightness and handling, this car can still reach more
than 340 km/h and complies with the FIA GT1 regulations. Care for
environmental issues has resulted in SpadaVettureSport's decision to
add to the menu an ad hoc "converter kit" which allows fueling the
car with E85 green fuel, with a slight increase in torque and power.
With this new sport car Spadaconcept aims at reviving the
philosophy that inspired Ercole Spada's past models, in an attempt to combine aesthetics with functionality and racing performances. This
new model is the latest evolutionary step of the truncated tail -
"coda tronca" in Italian. The typical and aerodynamic shape which
Spada had introduced with the Alfa Romeo Giulietta SZ, TZ1 and TZ2 in
the 60's - gives this new car unique and nimble lines which bring in
lightness and aerodynamics improving performances.
TS Codatronca, will be produced and marketed by
SpadaVettureSport - a company created and controlled by Spadaconcept
- in collaboration with a team of selected technical, industrial and
commercial partners. SpadaVettureSport has aggregated the highest
profile resources around this project by establishing strategic
alliances mainly with small firms located in the district of Turin
with great past histories and amazing skills. These partners have
great tradition and specialization and allow SpadaVettureSport to
combine the "best of breed" in technology with the tradition and
"saper fare" - i.e. the Italian for know how - of Italian small
firms. The industrial partner FS Group (a firm based near Turin, who
has already realized prototypes for Mercedes, Smart, Range Rover)
will realize the body, using material supplied by Elantas Camattini,
and PPG. The partner Italtecnica (a small firm located in Cambiano,
near Turin, already involved in the tuning of Paris-Dakar and Le mans
cars for Peugeot) will work on braking system, suspensions and engine
upgrade, Sparco - the manufacturer of tuning products based in Turin
- will supply seats and other interior items, Pirelli and OZ Racing
will provide respectively tires and wheels.
For the launch of this supercar SpadaVettureSport has signed a
co-branding and co-marketing agreement with AZNOM, a small company
based in Monza operating in the production of accessories and luxury
items, who will realise and market a line of amenities with the
Codatronca brand. The agreement signed by SpadaVettureSport and AZNOM
has a long term perspective and involves joint efforts to approach
the market.
The Codatronca TS version will be presented in world première
next spring in Montecarlo. According to SpadaVettureSport the TS
version is a first step which will be shortly followed by others
upcoming. The more powerful TSS version - Turismo Super Sportivo -
which is already under test at SpadaVettureSport, will be launched at
the end of 2008. In order to realise this unique model Spadaconcept
and SpadaVettureSport have put in place a manufacturing system such
as to meet the quality standards typical of niche, handcrafted
production.
In the present of Spadaconcept there is a strong focus on the
core business - consulting and design of niche cars, motorbikes and
accessories like helmets, seats, etc. - but looking to the future,
the company has started to explore new fields, especially bio-ethanol
powered cars and it is currently working in the development of an
Environmental Friendly Vehicle (EFV).

TECHNICAL PRESS RELEASE

Spada Vetture Sport is glad to announce the manufacturing of the
brand new Codatronca TS . Disclosed on April 24th during the Top
Marques Monaco ( The Luxury and Supercar Show) as a world
premiérè, collecting a big success from the international press
and also from the crowd of people present at the event.
Discovered during the Top Marques opening by the ex-car driver and
F1® Champion Damon Hill it was elected most beautiful car of the
exhibition also by the prestigious New York Time daily Magazine.

Codatronca it's born by the pencil of Ercole and Paolo Spada, the
guide lines that has characterized the project of these new car
are: aerodynamics, lightness, and pleasure of driving. The same
guide lines that portrayed most of the project of Ercole Spada,
like the mythical tz1 and tz2, were characterize by the back
shape called "codatronca".

The Codatronca TS is proposed with different engine that can
works, in the states were it's present, with BioFuel E85. The
engine has mecchanic and electronic components developed
respecting the specification of the project needs, in this way
we've obtained from the V8, in aluminium of more than 7lt with a
dry sump, with a power of 630hp at 6500 rpm, with an incredible
torque of 668Nm at 4800 rpm.

The power is transmitted to the ground by the rear wheels thanks
to a 6 gear close ratio transmission with a specific range also at the 6th
gear to the limit of 7000 rpm that push the codatronca at
340Km/h with an acceleration from 0 to 100Km/h of only 3,4 sec.
The designers gave more importance to the pleasure of driving
instead of speed record, in the perfect style of the gentleman
driver.
For support that performance, the codatronca is fitted with a
traction control on 3 level of action that progressively excludes
only the traction control and after another push leaving the car
to the bare control of its lucky owner.
For a better check of the car's data, Codatronca has an equipment
that can record since 80 hours of telemetry on track, with 40
active channel (steering angle, g meter longitudinal and lateral,
sinlge speed for each tyre, lap timer and gps tracking system for
track trajectories and lots more)

The chassis is a light and stiff aluminium tubular with a roll bar
cage combined for offer the maximum protection also when it's
driven on track. The bodywork is made of light and resistant fibre
that cover the chassis and the mechanics parts.

The suspension are completely adjustable like the one of the
racing cars. A big news is represented by the possibility of set
up the anti-roll bar on the front and on the rear separately on 4
level of hardness: rain, soft, medium and hard with an on-board
regulation.
In that way the wheel can work at its best and the suspension in
every condition, especially when the car is on track due to the
selection of harden or soften the axles for a perfect grip.
The wheels are the Pirelli Pzero Corsa, with size 285/35/19'' for
the front wheels and 345/35/19'' for the back wheels.
The rims are of 19'' by Oz, these were chosen to assure that the
shoulder tyres transmit best the drive feelings of this fantastic
tyres.
The braking system is Brembo with racing 8 pistons aluminium
calipers on the front with discs of 380mm and with 4 pistons
aluminium calipers with discs of 355mm on the rear; governed by an
Abs system of the latest generation.

The aerodynamics shape of the car is represented by a low value of
cx, measures are a length of 4659mm, a width of 1942mm and a
height of 1235mm. The weight is very low, just 1360Kg for a unique
pleasure of drive.

The Codatronca® shape of the back gave the possibility to the
designer, to create a perfect 400 litre trunk, flawless for two
people, and customizable with a suitcase set purposely made by
Aznom srl. The cockpit is bright and roomy and it's provided of a
technological air-conditioner system and a perfect acoustic, the
back view is assured by a rear view camera.

Inside we can find the watch designed by Meccanicheveloci with
automatic recharge, a taste of the Italian's craftmenship..

The car is available at SpadaVettureSport in a limited number
every year.

This Gran Torino Brougham from the year 1974, was imported new to Santiago de Chile.
Around the year 1990 it was sold to the owner which I bought it to, it was taken to a southern city called Los Angeles (Not California). There it was well maintained, it was used as a second car, only to drive around the weekends, not a daily driver. Around the year 2004 the owner had to leave Chile, this is when I bought it, the car travelled a distance of 500km with only changing the fuel filter, this means it was in good condition, at least the engine and transmission, when it arrived I noticed that it had some oxide; low part of the doors, fenders, trunk door and the trunk itself was ruined by oxide. Now the restoration begins, all the parts corrode by oxide were cut of and replaced by new metal, the chasis was in good condition so nothing was done there.
After the paint, which was done using the same colors, well originaly the roof had a white vinyl cover, which was taken out and replaced by a pearl white color, no more vinyl. When all the paint and metal was done it was taken to an electric to change completely the cables, and take out all the none original butons, maybe in the states this does not happen very much but here in Chile it is very common to find cars that have an enourmous amount of cables and buttons. Well the electric system was left original, exept for the third brake light and the sylvins were changed to halogen lamps, the orginal AM radio and A/C were left, both working to today. The next step was to complete the car, brand new Cragar ss rims were installed with wider tires (265 back and 245 front), this step completely changed the appearance of the car, it gave it a more aggressive look. All the emblems were installed, the F-O-R-D In the front did not come with the car, but it was an optional for this model so, it still maintains the originality, the other hood ornament (The brougham one) was not installed because personally I don't like it, yes I should not have left that hole in the hood, but I still have the ornament in the glove box. When the car was ready it was taken to get out that v8 sound, independent 2" exhaust lines were installed with mufflers, and inox steel tips, I orderd a pair of Flowmaster mufflers but they came too late, even though, the car sounds very good and it passes every thing legally.
The engine was only enhanced, stickers and stuff like that, it is original a 351 Windsor, also the transmission was left inttact. The car runs great, no smoke, 100%, just gas and you can go anywere, last year I went to the mountains (El Colorado) a ski resort and no problems.
The gas price has gone very high so I don't use it very much now, it has become a second car, the price of a liter of gas here costs $1.20, so you would imagine it's not very cheap to use as a daily driver, I used it every day for about two years. I have owned it for about 4, one year was completely used in restoration, and now I enjoy it in the weekends.

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The first, and biggest, problem is that the car is in Wyoming. Not just Wyoming, but northern Wyoming, 1100 miles and two snow-covered, tow-vehicle-killin' mountain ranges away from Alameda.


Naturally, the 428 is in a billion pieces in the trunk, the heads are incorrect (off a 2V 390, meaning I'd need to spring for some real-deal CJ units), and the main caps are missing so it'll need line boring. On the plus side, the crank has been machined and the rods rebuilt, plus there's a set of new TRW forged pistons.


This car is actually something of a family heirloom, with a long and complicated story. Short version: my late uncle, Dirty Duck (the old-time biker, British-car mechanic, and storyteller who gave us The Legend of Hoot's Panhead) bought this car just before he died in 1989. His then-16-year-old son, my cousin Sam (aka Sammy Rockstar), inherited the car and proceeded to do what any self-respecting teenaged Harley-ridin', wrench-twistin' kid in small-town Wyoming would do: hoon the living piss out of it.


While the ghost of Dirty Duck no doubt approved of the gigantic clouds of burning rubber smoke, parking-lot-donuts, and 13-second quarter-mile passes performed by his son in the ol' Torino, eventually the drivetrain had had enough hoonage.


At that point, Sam (being a highly competent wrench) figured a complete rebuild of engine, transmission, and rear was in order, so he took everything apart and started the process of getting stuff out to machine shops, ordering new parts, etc.


But then, in a process I'm sure all of us who have lived in Project Car Hell can relate to, other projects and priorities intervened. Sam got a high-paying job as a roughneck in the Wyoming oil fields and was promoted to foreman after proving that he still had all ten fingers after a couple years on the job. There was just no time for the Torino project, which languished on a friend's land. Waiting. Then one thing led to another and The Rockstar ended up in Minnesota, always meaning to go back and finish the project, but always with another car, truck, or Harley right there in front of him, demanding his time and money.


Oh yeah, the engine isn't the only thing in pieces. You're looking at a bucket containing some of the innards of the 9" differential; Sam tells me there's a rebuildable Traction-Lok in the car somewhere.


As Dirty Duck would say, time goes by, y'know? The Ford has been sitting in a field for more than a decade, and a few of the parts have been misplaced over the years. We want the car to stay in the family, but Sam has several Hell Projects and I have none (well, if you don't count my Project House Hell, that is). And, damn, it would be sweet having a clean restored Cobra Jet Torino, especially one of the not-so-common coupes. But I've had several late-60s midsized Fords and, frankly, I fear that front suspension (not to mention the no-new-ground-broken aspect, though I've never owned a Detroit musclecar that wasn't all primer and junkyard parts). Then, of course, there would be the problem of originality; I'd be itchin' to do all kinds of hairy-ass modifications to the engine, not to mention stuff a Toploader behind the engine in place of the original C6... but this thing is so rare that even I cringe at the thought of deviating too far from the factory setup. What would I do with it, take it to car shows and sit on an ice chest debating the merits of hose-clamp date codes with other vintage Ford owners? Yet it's so damn cool! 'Tis truly a Project Car Hell Personal Dilemma!

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Those fastback Fords and Mercuries of the late 60s all look like they ought to be screaming past a beer-saturated infield crowd at the Stonewall Jackson 500; other than the winged Mopars, no factory car looks as NASCAR-esque. Not only that, a Torino with 428 and 4-speed was no slouch at the dragstrip. Yes indeed, even Ford haters manage to dredge up some love for the fastback Torino... and now you can have one, cheap! How about this '69 for the holy-crap price of five hundred dollahs? The seller claims to be uncertain of the identity of this car's engine, though he says he once saw "390" text on a "breather" that he saw in or near the car a while back. However, he "had the engine started" last summer, so maybe it actually runs! There's rust. The bumpers lie in the weeds. There's no title. Perhaps worst of all, the roof is damaged by goats.

Some folks say that the Plymouth Road Runner for '73 wasn't up to the level of its predecessors, but look at that "power bulge" and those wicked-looking scoops on the hood! This car is badass! All the '73 needs, really, is to have the smog motor upgraded with some better hardware... and you'll be able to do just that when you buy this '73 Road Runner for just $1200 (thanks to tipster Chris for letting us know about this one). See, with this car you have the advantage of being able to start from scratch in the drivetrain department, because it's burdened with neither engine nor trans. A quick trip to the junkyard for a 440 out of a New Yorker, the usual intake/cam/header upgrade, and there's the engine; zip down to the swap meet (or eBay) and pick up a 4-speed with all associated goodies, and you're almost done! Well, maybe not quite done... while you're at the swap meet, you'll need to pick up some body parts. And some interior stuff. Oh yeah, and the car has no paperwork. The seller doesn't mention rust... probably because it's a given.

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To show the global appreciation for the Torino's endurance, we're giving you the original film version. In French!

Wait, it's even better in Spanish!

Judging by the exhaustive detail in the Torino page on Wikipedia, this car doesn't lack obsessive fans.


Chrysler had soft Corinthian Leather, sure, but Ford wasn't far behind with their buttery Michigan Vinyl.


Power was way down for the '74 Torino; the 302 was the base engine, but you could get a gruntin' 460 with a depressing 215 horses for 245 extra bucks.


The '74 was on the weighty side at 3500 pounds, too; those monstrous bumpers sure didn't help matters.


But still, this is a pretty decent-looking car. Very American.


What it really needs is some wheels and tires that fill the wheelwells better. Plus it needs to be lower to the ground.


There we go! The NASCAR look definitely works for these cars. Yes, Unser's Torino was a '72, but they're pretty similar.


Now those are some extremely 70s-looking seats, eh?