Thanks to a bit of some smart horse trading, a couple of vintage Mustangs are being kept all in the family. Seven years ago, Westminster, California resident, Rudy Doles, and his family were attending his Uncle Vic's funeral. Rudy noticed that Vic's 1967 Mustang convertible wasn't in his garage. Rudy asked a cousin attending the funeral where the drop top pony car might have wandered off to.

At first glance, it looks like a refined late-’70s Trans Am - long hood, wide hips, Solar Gold paint glowing under the sun. But this one isn’t about nostalgia. This is what happens when a second-gen Trans Am grows up, gets real money thrown at it, and decides it’s done pretending.

If you’re talkin’ blue-oval heavy hitters from the muscle-car glory days, the 1966 Ford Fairlane 500 R-Code sits right at the top of the food chain. This thing wasn’t built for grocery runs or Sunday cruises. Ford engineered it with one purpose: to hunt Chevys and Mopars at the drag strip. What rolled off the line was basically a Detroit-born fist fight on wheels - raw, loud, and absolutely unfiltered.

Many vintage American truck enthusiasts regard the 1968 GMC C1500 short-bed fender-side as a ready for work pickup truck with an earnest countenance. About three years ago, Surf City USA resident, Chris Van Schyndel, was surfing around on Craigslist. Wearing a flat black, rattle can paint scheme, Chris saw a GMC fender-side that really seemed to be trying to hide its rugged good looks.

Among Chevy diehards, the 1963 Impala Z11 is more than just a special-order oddball - it’s one of the most lethal, purpose-built drag-strip predators General Motors ever unleashed. Born during the heat of the early-’60s Super Stock wars, the Z11 was Chevy’s hush-hush, factory-sanctioned answer to Ford’s 427 Galaxies and Mopar’s Max Wedge brutes. Only 57 were ever built, and today they stand as unicorns - mythical, snarling artifacts from the golden era of Detroit performance one-upmanship.

Below is a deep dive into why the Z11 still makes automotive enthusiasts talk in hushed, reverent tones.

Few machines occupy the highest echelon of American muscle car mythology quite like the 1970 and 1971 Hemi ’Cuda convertibles. These cars are so rare, so purpose-built, and so brutally charismatic that even the most seasoned collectors speak of them in hushed tones. In the world of Mopar performance, a Hemi ’Cuda convertible represents lightning captured in steel—a moment in which Detroit unknowingly birthed rolling royalty.

American muscle cars are being maintained, restored, renewed, and restomodded on a daily basis around the globe. From amateur DIY'ers to pro-builders that have last names like: Worman, Johnson, Trepanier, Strope, Brizio, Foose, and etc. - these American muscle car artisans are to be commended for preserving automotive history and keeping these rolling works of industrial design, magnificent mechanization, and art looking great and running strong.

Some cars are engineered. A rare few are conjured. In 1967, when Ford widened the Mustang just enough to swallow its muscular 390/320-horsepower big-block, the move cracked open a door. Carroll Shelby, eternal hot-rod alchemist, kicked the slightly ajar door off its hinges. The GT500 arrived as the natural evolution of performance, its Police Interceptor 428 already massaged to 355 horsepower. The public devoured it, outselling the GT350 by nearly double. But beneath Shelby’s trademark Texas grin, another idea was forming - larger, louder, and impossibly ambitious.

And as in so many moments of automotive destiny, it took only a spark to ignite a legend.

Way back in 1934 those Ford of Australia designers and engineers had the right idea - to create a coupe utility or unibody pickup truck that could haul farm stuff during the week and be driven in comfort and class with the spouse to church on Sunday. The practical vehicle came to be known down under as simply a ute. 

Searching several years in states like Texas, California, and Arizona, Pedro Villa looked for a turnkey 1966 Chevy II Nova that he could purchase and customize to make his own. Years prior he had owned a '66 Chevy II station wagon that had planted the seed for a sporty coupe in his Bowtie loving brain. Low and behold, in 2018 Pedro went to a car show in Whittier, California that was just four miles from his home in Pico Rivera. There he spied the burgundy beauty of his Chevy II Nova loving dreams.