A three-figure muscle car: fact or fiction?

Words and photography by Joe Essid.

All of us have seen a desirable and intact old car in a barn or, maybe, under an oak tree. Ever dreamed of then getting it for next to nothing?

This is what happened to Darrin Johnson of Goochland County, Virginia. For 10 years, he knew the location of a seemingly well preserved 1971 Plymouth Road Runner, parked under a large oak in another county. Darrin always loved the body style of the second-generation cars, and 1971 had been their first year. Though the styling has long been controversial among the Mopar faithful, I think Darrin has a discerning eye. There is something undeniably brutal about the fuselage body, stance, and especially the 1971 and 1972 wrap-around chrome front end. The combination screams end-of-era Muscle, one last bong hit before the Malaise Era crept into our driveways. A friend who saw an early photo of the car in this story said that these Road Runners “look like they’re glaring out from under a unibrow.” I am sure that, in the mid-1970s, the Plymouth’s glowering-thug face intimidated many a boy racer when he glanced in the rear-view mirror of his new Camaro, then saw exactly what was riding his 5 MPH, federally mandated bumper.

Little did Darrin, who collects, restores, and drives Fords, know that the Mopar machine, unibrow and all, would soon become “a red-headed stepchild” who entered his life.

The more he thought about it, the more Darrin, who recalls owning more than 140 cars, knew this Plymouth had to be his. He’s had Torino Cobras and hotted up new Mustangs, but every so often he put out feelers about the Road Runner. He eventually heard that a neighborhood association was to have the Plymouth removed and crushed, as it was an abandoned car on an abandoned property. Darrin quickly stepped in, contacting the association to assure them he would have the car removed as soon as a title check could be completed.

For a $140 in fees to the Virginia DMV’s abandoned vehicle program, the car became his. Darrin showed me the paperwork and receipts. The state’s VIN search revealed nothing had been done for a decade. Registered letters to the last known owner went unanswered.

I went over to see Darrin’s car recently and it is simply too good to believe. He says it now is True Blue Metallic, though to my eye and an Internet search it appears closer to a Glacial Blue. I’m no Mopar expert but I recall how wonderfully brash their colors were and could not resist pulling some paint chips online. Under the hood there lies a numbers-matching 383 with a Holley four-barrel; the carb may not be original to the car. Darrin’s field-find was originally Autumn Bronze Metallic; he pulled a door panel to check original color.  The vehicle had also been, at some point, resprayed in red and then a dark blue. The first owner ordered the car with air conditioning, a desirable option in the South, but that is missing now.

More than 14,000 Road Runners rolled off the assembly line in that model year. Like the vast majority of these cars, Darrin’s uses a 727 Torqueflite automatic. I do not have production numbers for the 383-equipped cars, but these Plymouths could be had with a 340, 383, 400, 440, or, in small numbers indeed, the 426 Hemi, a word that Darrin mentions with great reverence.

From 20 feet, Darrin’s car looks like it is ready to drive to next Saturday’s Cars and Coffee. Closer up, there’s predictable bubbling under the vinyl top and at the edges of quarter panels in several typical places, but the frame is good, the sheet metal intact, and the interior? While the dash is cracked, the buckets, rear bench seat, and center console look new. Darrin needs to install a headliner (who doesn’t on a project?), but he needs to do little else inside; the vehicle’s paint and interior got saved by the shade of that large oak tree.

The “beep-beep” horn works, incidentally. It was the first thing Darrin checked as he began cleaning up the car.

Normally I don’t like vinyl tops, and I was glad to find my own project car without one. For the Road Runner, however, we both agree that the vinyl top looks better than the oh-so-Seventies stripes often found curving up the C-pillars of Road Runners. Darrin plans to replace the top as the car begins a full restoration. He has every piece of chrome trim, and the grille looks very solid, though local coachbuilder and customizer Marty Martino, who recently built an amazing tribute car to Harley Earl’s 1959 Cadillac Cyclone, will be making a few fixes to the headlight buckets and other details.

Darrin’s story is proof that yes, “they are still out there” if you are willing to put in time, effort, and some sleuthing to get the right car. Predictably, the Coyotes have begun trying to bag this Road Runner, and Darrin has turned down many offers. If you have plans to contact him, be advised that, like its cartoon namesake, this Road Runner can’t be caught. He’s going to finish the car as a mild custom, in one of Chrysler’s wilder muscle-car hues, probably Sublime Green or Plum Crazy. He’ll add a spoiler on the rear deck as well. I suspect there’s a “Hemi” gleam in his eye, but Darrin is a respectful restorer. If the 383 comes out, it will be there in his shop in case the Road Runner ever changes hands again.

I suspect, looking at the menacing Mopar, that it won’t be changing hands anytime soon.

Joe Essid is a farmer and writer based in Goochland County, Virginia. You can follow his exploits at TractorPunk.blogspot.com.

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