Never Enough Horsepower

The optimism of the 1950s, as America expanded and highways stretched across the continent, led to a cultural hunger for fun. As the ‘60s rolled around, The Beatles ruled the radio and movie audiences reveled in the escapades of Sean Connery and Steve McQueen, while international raceways gave birth to rides built entirely for power and unprecedented straight-line speed. Once slightly subdued versions of those racing machines made it to the roads, they thrilled the souls of car shoppers looking to do more than just get around. 

Arguably, an American automaker’s first inkling of that muscle car vibe was the Chevrolet Corvette. First built in 1953, the luxury sports car remains the Bowtie’s halo car to this day – but purists would argue its original inline six-cylinder engine precluded it from true muscle car status until the introduction of a Chevy V8 in 1955.

While Detroit tinkered with the ‘Vette, legendary racer Carroll Shelby tore up the world’s track in the ‘50s – finally winning the 24 Hours of Le Mans in 1959. When a long-standing heart ailment ended his racing career, Shelby decided to bring his passion and skill for building race cars to the high-end consumer market with the creation of his AC Cobra.

First produced in 1962, the two-seater packed a 4.7 liter V8 power plant inside a racing chassis modified for road use. While many gearheads laud the Cobra as capturing that initial spirit of yankee road-going sinew, others argue Shelby disqualified the Cobra because it handled too well. In truth, there remains in the aura of a proper muscle car a great ability to go very fast in one direction, only to clown around a bit in the turns.

Enter the Pontiac GTO. Introduced to terrorized pavement in 1964, the General Motors monster is widely credited for fully capturing – and further inspiring – the American muscle car movement. GM decided to get out of track racing in 1957, allowing its designers and engineers to work for years on bringing industry leading street performance to Motown. 

The first GTO was essentially a Pontiac LeMans juiced with a 389 cubic inch, 6.4 liter V8 capable of 325 horsepower. The loud powerhouse from Michigan didn’t originally roll off the line with power steering, thus capturing that muscle car spirit of scary rapidity and numb understeer. 

In the years following its production, the successful GTO would push other automakers into creating their own big, strong, rude funhouses-on-wheels to tap into that young, joyful American driving spirit. Chevrolet would introduce the Camaro – an enthusiast ride still on assembly lines. The Plymouth Barracuda would join the AMC Javelin, the AMC Matador, and the Mercury Cougar as short-lived four-wheeled flexers. Pontiac itself would produce the Firebird and Trans-Am long enough to carry The Bandit away from Smokey.

Still, while the GTO was redefining road-going performance, Ford continued to split its attention between sports cars and racing. Its GT40, originally designed via partnership with Shelby, would eventually win Le Mans for Ford in 1966 and make stars out of names such as Mark Donohue, Jim Hall, Bob Bondurant, Ken Miles, and Mario Andretti. The latter would begin winning races in the horsepower-crazed 1960s en route to becoming the only driver to win the Indianapolis 500, Daytona 500, and the Formula One World Championship.

In the end, it was Ford’s contribution to Hollywood automotive royalty that best represents the golden moment of 1960s muscle car culture. Dearborn’s favorite automaker introduced the Mustang in 1965, but it took a couple years to find its bulked up footing. By the time the aforementioned Mr. McQueen took the wheel of his 1968 Highland Green Mustang GT Fastback with its 390 cubic inch engine and four speed manual transmission on the floor, the horsey ride was ready to establish itself as the preeminent American muscle car.

That Fastback was the main co-star in the 1968 detective thriller, Bullitt. Once the title character took on two hitmen driving a 1968 Dodge Charger 440 Magnum in a street race to the death, the resulting 10 minutes and 53 seconds set the standard for cinematic car chases and marked the cultural high water mark for American muscle car identity.

Today, as roaring gasoline engines fade away in place of hybrid motors, the echoes of the USA’s V8s are still heard at rallies and track days, reminding drivers of a simpler, more naive time when carbon emissions, seatbelts, and ABS had no say over reckless fun.