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Corvair Corsa Convertible  1965
Thumnail: Corvair jacket patch  Why would anyone want to CLICK for a  larger view?

You're right: it's not even a model. The Late Corvair (double entendre, anyone?), 1965 and after, good-looking car, is really difficult to obtain in any kind of model, let alone a 1:43 convertible. I actually spent quite a bit on a sealed AMT Prestige series 1:25 kit. I'm not eager to build a wrong-size car. Any car, really. Maybe I'll settle for pictures. I saw a couple of built-from-a-kit plastic 1:24 models in really bad shape sold as a box of parts. One of them was made into a convertible from the original coupe parts. It didn't look that bad, but when the bidding went over $60.00, I dropped out.

Similar thing in two other auctions: the subject was a 1:43 (only ones I've seen at that scale) late-model coupe in an ugly green, and from the photos, not very well done Sabra brand, made in Israel. They start at $25.00 and when they go over $40.00, I quit. There is one running now, ends in a couple hours, from an Australian seller. Nine bucks shipping and a probable $5.00 money order fee added to whatever the top bid turns out to be. We'll see.

Photo: Gold Corvair convert-ed from a green coupe. CLICK for a bigger view

Look there. The models are both Sabra, and identical other than the cut-off roof and gold paint. And the windshield is not in the gold one, yet. I have several sets of special 1:43 wheels and tires to put on the convertible. Can't decide among wires, Alfa mags, and Campagnolos. Perhaps the flashy wheels will disguise the not-very-goodness of the models.

The 1965 Corvair Corsa convertible I bought cost $600.00 in 1972 or so. It had a new (power operated) top, a new gold paint job, good tires and brakes, a 140-horse four-carb engine, and minimal oil leaks. The exhaust system was shot, but the four-speed transmission was excellent. I took it to Harry Bokker at Courtesy Chevrolet to check out a strange sound before driving to San Clemente to show it to Mom. He said Park it. CV joint was going out. We used another car (Kammback, I suppose) to visit Mom. Next day I bought the parts and did a replacement with no trouble at all.

This is one of those cars that captures your heart and misbehaves. We all loved it, but since it was for Margarita to drive once she finished her lessons and licensing procedure, it was not quite the right car. The four-speed was good but the clutch took careful attention to make smooth progress, even for a practiced manual shifter. That was the nail in the coffin. Sorry. Bye, bye Miss American Pie.

While I had it, and before it was obviously on its way out, I had a new exhaust system installed, and bought a finned cast aluminum oil pan and such from J.C. Whitney. The engine really sounded good, and the little leak of oil fumes into the heater system was fixable. I don't remember how long we had it, but when Margarita approached driverness, I traded it on the Valiant. It was a good trade, but it broke my heart. I must have had some kind of thing in my head that said we couldn't have more than two cars at a time. Hmph.


I have written of this elsewhere, but can't find it, so this will be a fresh retelling of a familiar story:

I was so pleased with the Corvair. It looked good, sounded great, handled good, felt right to me. One day I was going down the Ulric hill from Linda Vista to Mission Valley, nice wide, four-lane road. Top down, sun shining, new duals sounding fresh. Fresh oil and filter in the engine a few days earlier. Sweet scene, fine prospects all around. I thought that was a good time to open it up in third gear, see how it cranked with that hill to aid and abet it.

Gas pedal to the floor, decibels and speed mounted quickly, and at about 65 miles per hour I let off the gas. It kept going, flat out full accelleration! Ack! No panic, reached for the key and turned it off before putting in the clutch. Coasted to the side of the road and went back to see what part of the throttle linkage was stuck.

Well, the linkage was stuck, all right. It was jammed open by the jack. The thing you use to lift the car when a tire change is necessary outside of the store. It was one of those swinging-peg-goes-in-a-hole kind popularized by European or British cars. In standard form it was mounted along the wall of the engine compartment, with the swinging peg part faced to the fender, away from the engine. I had not had it out, and whoever had last put it back put it back with the peg faced toward the engine and set so the peg could swing out under heavy accelleration. Heavy braking would just confirm its folded position.

So there it was, swung into a postion it could only reach under full throttle, by the only force that could swing it there: sudden, hard accelleration. It will make a good plot device in a murder mystery. I try to find something good in every circumstance. Silver lining, you know.

Don Stewart paid me a fair price for my Corvair pan and accessories.

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