This car couldn’t be any more of its era, and I love it for that reason. Well, not enough to spend even a quarter of the asking price, but I do love it. Between the color scheme, the giant graphics on the door, and the “Hemi” 2.6L engine, this thing screams “1980” louder than if you put on some Christopher Cross on the radio and turned it up all the way. The Fire Arrow was a rebadged Mitsubishi Lancer, but all I really care about are the stripes and the hood decal. It’s a shame there are no interior pics, because I think I see plaid seats through the window, and that just ups the ante even more. I can practically feel my sideburns growing just from looking at the photo.
Tag Archives: Plymouth
At the risk of turning this blog into all Mopar A-bodies, all the time, I present yet another Chrysler frugality machine, this time in just the right shade of gold. It’s a two-door, but still a sensible post car (wouldn’t want the luxury of a pillar-less hardtop on this economy-mobile), and looks straight as a pin. The up-rated rally wheels are a nice touch, although I would of course prefer steelies with dog dishes. The icing on this stodgy slice of cake is the presence of the leaning tower of power under the hood. While a V8 might be a lot more powerful (and possibly downright scary given the light weight and probable drum brakes here), this car just screams out for slant 6 reliability. Assuming no rust, this is a good bit of car for the money, and that engine will still be running long after you squander the next three summers gathering parts for a fire-breathing big block to shoehorn between the fenders.
I’m not posting this car because it’s interesting, or because I think it’s necessarily a good deal, or because I want it myself, but mostly because I was saddened to see it on Craigslist. You see, this car lives not far from me, and I’ve seen it parked in the same spot in the driveway for a number of years, occasionally being wrenched on by a young guy and his dad (I assume). So I can’t help but develop some kind of sad, “Cat’s in the Cradle”-type storyline in my head, about how the son moved out and no longer has time to work on the car, or they had some kind of falling out over the car and now it has to go, or they just decided it was too far gone and lost the desire to finish it. Of course, it could just be that they looked at the rusty, half-finished project car in their driveway and decided to cut bait and look for something else to enjoy together. Let’s hope it’s the latter.