Original Miles

I think we all understand the concept of original miles. They represent the distance a given car has been driven since its birth. The choice of the word "original" is a bit peculiar, as it implies that the car does not have replacement or replica miles, that the miles have not been transferred from another car (well, that could happen, if, for example, the speedometer and odometer had been replaced). It's common to advertise a car's "original miles," however, particularly if the mileage is low, like this 1976 Cadillac seen in the 2009 Hershey Car Corral, or this '73 Pontiac Grand Prix.

Then there are "actual miles," which amount to the same thing, although the context suggests that they are neither figurative or fake. Actual miles were also rampant at this year's Hershey meet, blatant in some cases. And there was even one car that had both original and actual miles.

As the miles, whether original or actual, get higher and the car less pristine, they become less important, often an afterthought on the For Sale sign, although a car with high miles can still be very desirable. Sometimes, with a very distinctive car like a De Tomaso Pantera, it's sufficient to say simply "miles."

There comes a time and place, however, when even "miles" is superfluous, when the number alone speaks for itself.

Top Truck

Nineteen thirty-seven was a very good year. Production of US cars, at 3.93 million, was the best since the peak year of 1929, and trucks, at 891,016 even surpassed the earlier year's record. Particularly significant was Ford's tally, first place among truck manufacturers.

The 1937 Ford trucks were not revolutionary. The sheet metal was basically the same as 1936, but with a blunted grille shell and a split windshield. The major changes were under the skin, where the new chassis frame for passenger cars was adopted by the light trucks, along with cable-operated brakes and an updated 85 hp V8 engine. Also new was an optional 60 hp V8, a 136 cubic inch unit available in Standard passenger cars and nearly all trucks.

I've always liked 1937 Ford trucks, mainly because of the grille that's "softer" than the 1936 item. For 1938-39, Ford trucks got a new cab as well as a new "barrel front" grille. I don't care for those as much, finding the new grille too bold. Sales in 1938 dropped to a post-1934 low, as a new recession took hold.

I stumbled across this '37 Ford pickup at Hershey last month. Basically complete, it looked like it had been slumbering in a swamp. The engine looked inert, and the body was rotten. I couldn't tell whether the sagging was due to cab rot or a broken frame. There was no price evident, but it was clearly a project only for the stout-hearted, even with a spare cab included.

Second Time Around

How many times have we heard the familiar lament: "If only they brought back the _____, they'd sell a million of 'em." Fill in the blank with the name of your favorite car: Model T, Model A, VW's old Beetle and the list goes on. In reality, if they did (and could comply with environmental and safety regs) they'd probably sell a few dozen, given the speed with which technology advances. But one manufacturer did revive a dead model and make a success of it: American Motors with the Rambler American.

To be sure, the old car had been out of production less than two years, so the model was not old and stale. And as timing is everything, they were reviving an economy car in a recession, when small imports were gaining market share and the Big Three had nothing to offer in that segment. The new Rambler American was a small-change investment, since it was essentially the old Rambler that was discontinued after 1955, with a new grille and taillights turned upside down. The engine, too, was old hat, a near dupe of the 1955 flathead six with merely a new water pump location. When the powerplant was updated for the "big Rambler" in 1956 and given overhead valves, the water pump was moved from behind the generator (and driven by it) to the "conventional" spot at the front.

The Rambler, you will remember, was introduced in 1950 as a small car in the Nash line. Initially sold only as a well-optioned convertible, it was much more successful than Hudson's Jet and Kaiser's Henry J. A station wagon joined the ragtop that year, and later a hardtop coupe. For 1953, it was restyled with cues from the '52 Nash, and longer-wheelbase four-door sedans and Cross Country station wagons were brought out for 1954 (the illustrations are 1955 cars).

The revived Rambler, dubbed "American" to distinguish it from the larger models, joined the 1958 line, as a two-door sedan or station wagon, both on the short 100-inch wheelbase. Priced from $1,775, it undercut Ford by $200 and Chevy by nearly twice that much. Production for the year was modest, slightly more than 30,000, about equal to 1953. For 1959, though, sales soared to 91,491 the best year yet. In 1960, a four-door sedan was added, also on the short wheelbase, and production hit a new high of 120,603, though no match for the new compacts from Ford, Chevrolet and Plymouth. They didn't sell a million, but 242,674 cars in three years nearly equaled the six-year total of the first Rambler.

For 1961, the American got new sheet metal, but underneath was the same Airflyte unitary understructure. A new offering was the convertible, which differed from its 1950-53 antecedent in having a fully-retractable top. With minor trim changes, the freshened American soldiered on until 1964, when a wholly-new Richard Teague design was introduced.

The car that heads this feature belongs to David Dykes of Waterford, Connecticut. I saw it, complete with authentic aftermarket swamp cooler, at the auto show put on by the Greater Norwich Area Chamber of Commerce back in September.