Plymouth Super Bird
- WORDS
- NIK BRUCE
- PHOTOGRAPHY
- NATHAN DUFF
THE Sixties. For America, it was the decade that changed the nation – ten years of contrasts and extremes, of hope and heartbreak, flower power and moon landings, that would shape the country’s identity for generations to come.
Whether it was Martin Luther on the Lincoln Memorial, Hendrix with his guitar or Armstrong taking that one small step, the Sixties would become an era defined by America’s desire to push the boundaries and redefine possibilities.
But while Vietnam and the Apollo missions blanketed the news, on the streets of middle America it was all about the muscle car and the relentless quest for more.
What had started as a battle for bragging rights between the ‘Big Three’ had escalated in to an all-out war by the end of the decade, as Ford, Chrysler and The General, sought to out-gun each other by squeezing increasingly ludicrous V8s in to their souped-up coupés.
Continually chasing a bigger slice of the domestic market, the Big Three used any means they could to lure customers to their various brands - and there was no better way of peddling their wares by then racing them in NASCAR.
By the mid-Sixties, NASCAR’s popularity was going through the roof and the manufacturers were quick to realise its massive marketing potential. That was the unique appeal of stock car racing: fans could watch their favourite drivers race on the weekend and then go and buy the same car (or at least something resembling it…) from their local dealer during the week – and the factories were only too happy to oblige them. Ever wondered where the old adage ‘Win on Sunday, sell on Monday’ comes from? Yep, NASCAR.
Regardless of which manufacturer they supported, NASCAR’s legions of fans were always guaranteed a thrilling race – even after a 500-mile event, the winning margin would often be a matter of meters.
With the races being so tight, factories were desperate to find any advantage, but by ’68 the law of diminishing returns meant that simply squeezing more power from those big-block V8s wasn’t going to be enough to dramatically reduce lap times.
Besides, the cars were already becoming dangerously unstable at their 180mph+ (290km/h) top speeds as it was.
To find a solution, Chrysler and Ford turned their attention to aerodynamics and so began the short-lived ‘Aero War’, that began with the ’68 Dodge Charger Daytona 500 and ended with the iconic and outrageous 1970 Plymouth Superbird – a car that truly expressed the revolutionary spirit of the time.
In 1969, the Superbird’s ‘Winged Warrior’ cousin, the Dodge Charger Daytona, had fulfilled its raison d’être by winning races and coaxing Chrysler’s former star driver, Richard Petty, back to the fold after he had defected to Ford the previous season.
But while the prospect of racing an ‘aero car’ was certainly tempting, if ‘The King’ was going to return to Chrysler, he wouldn’t be driving no Dodge – no, sir! It would be a Plymouth, or nothing.
Having little alternative, Chrysler set about building a new aero car, based on the Road Runner – Plymouth’s popular, low-budget muscle car – that would emulate the Daytona’s winning formula.
“Plymouth’s stylists insisted on tweaking the design in order to make it look ‘better’”
Despite the fact that Chrysler had spent thousands of hours and $100,000s to develop the Daytona, recruiting aerodynamicists from its ballistic missile division whose ground-breaking work in the wind tunnel made it possible for it to crack the 200mph barrier (it would hit 243mph or 391km/h in testing). Plymouth’s stylists insisted on tweaking the design in order to make it look ‘better’.
At the front, the nose cone was still 482mm long; however, it had been reprofiled with a central ridge that extended up the bonnet, while the air intake was enlarged and moved to the underside of the unit. The wing-mounted vents remained virtually unchanged, but while the rear wing still stood at a towering 609mm tall (as much for aerodynamic reasons as to allow access to the boot…) Plymouth’s stylists had made the aluminium uprights wider and raked them back to give them a more aggressive profile.
While Plymouth’s stylists may have arguably made the Superbird a bit more attractive than its cousin, their tinkering actually made it slower by roughly 3mph (5km/h), which was a big deal over a 500-mile race. In the end, it didn’t matter as between them, the Daytona and Superbird dominated the 1970 season, winning 17 and 38 races respectively.
“While its looks may have divided opinion, there was no doubting the Plymouth’s impressive street credentials.”
“With the races being so tight, factories were desperate to find any advantage”
Unfortunately for Chrysler, their success on track wasn’t exactly matched in the showroom.
To homologate the Superbird for 1970, NASCAR demanded that Plymouth sell at least one car per dealership, which equated to 1,920 cars. It’s widely believed that that 1,935 ‘birds were built in total with anywhere between 34 to 47 cars shipped to Canada; however, because of its polarising appearance many of them would hang around car yards for months or even years after delivery.
As legend has it, some dealers ended up converting the cars back to ordinary Road Runners just to sell them, while one desperate dealer apparently sold the Hemi V8 from his car before reporting it as being stolen and filing an insurance claim!
Most Superbirds (1,084 to be precise) were built with the entry-level 375HP four-barrel 440 V8, with another 716 fitted with the 390HP 440 Super Commando engine.
Just 135 were specced with the ferocious 425HP 426 Hemi, which was capable of launching the Superbird from 0-100km/h in just 4.8 seconds, while demolishing the quarter mile in 13.5 seconds at 105mph.
“Unfortunately for Chrysler, their success on track wasn’t exactly matched in the showroom.”
While its looks may have divided opinion, there was no doubting the Plymouth’s impressive street credentials.
As was typical for the era, buyers had countless options to choose from including a Torqueflight automatic, power steering, various styling accessories and a variety of ‘High Impact’ colours such as Hemi Orange, Tor Red and Limelight Green.
All Superbirds came as standard with Road Runner decals on the wing uprights and nose cone and the infamous ‘Beep, Beep!’ horn.
Although Chrysler had planned to launch a Daytona and Superbird for the ’71 season, NASCAR’s czar, ‘Big Bill’ France, effectively ruled them out by imposing a 300ci capacity limit on all aero cars. Just like that, two of the most technically advanced, outrageous cars ever built were killed off.
With so few of them made, it wasn’t long before the Superbird caught the eye of collectors. It’s ironic to think that while dealers literally couldn’t give them away 38 years ago, these days you could pay anything from $100,000 for a ‘project’ car to $500,000+ for a good Hemi.
In all, it’s estimated that just 1,000 Superbirds survived, but while the bulk of the cars have remained in America, a handful have made their way to Australia and New Zealand, such as this Vitamin C 440 Super Commando, which has found a home in Queensland.
Radical in concept and astonishing to behold, the Superbird has become a true icon of its age. Built for the single purpose of going as fast as humanly possible, we will probably never see it’s like again.
