Letter From the Editor: Finders, Keepers

Robert Ross

06/01/2005

This june issue of The Robb Report Collection is our third annual issue dedicated to Great Machines; exceptional machinery of one sort or another is almost always on our minds, whether we are behind a desk or behind a wheel.

During this past year, I have been focusing on one great machine from 1965, following a yearlong search that ended when last year’s June issue went to press in April 2004. I was fortunate to acquire a Shelby Mustang GT350, the American car that dominated SCCA racing and spawned a legendary series of American performance cars. Finding SFM5S270 was the result of luck, bulldoglike tenacity, and a fortuitous call, months earlier, to Curt Vogt of Cobra Automotive Inc. in Wallingford, Conn. Vogt—who has earned an international reputation for building winning Shelby racecars, and is an accomplished racer in his own right—had been chasing the original-condition Shelby since 1999. Its recalcitrant owner finally decided to relinquish the car, a proverbial barn-find that had rested stoically on jack stands since 1973. With vintage-1965 air still in its Goodyear Blue Dot spare, the old car possessed more than just patina. Wasp nests and a carapace of dirt covered a body with mottled paint but devoid of rust or accident damage. Every number matched and almost everything—except filters, hoses and the battery—was original. It was a time capsule on wheels, good to go for a ground-up restoration.

The early Shelby GT350 is essentially a hopped-up Mustang; because of its simple unibody construction, I imagined restoring it would be a cakewalk when compared to the restoration of a fancy European car of the same period. Well, not entirely.Our objective was to bring an original car back to original specification, using its own and mostly NOS (new old stock) parts. A few reproduction items were employed, such as a battery, carpet, hoses, filters, and anachronistic Blue Dot bias-ply tires. The more we recognized the pristine condition of the car, the more obliged we became to create a benchmark example. Chalk marks, cable tie orientation, sound deadening and over-spray patterns assiduously replicated the well-photographed original.

Vogt assigned the project to Scott Morton, a body and paint master and accomplished mechanic, whose attention to detail and patient mind-set made him the right man for the job. Vogt supervised the project, leaving nothing to chance and allowing no room for compromise.

Apart from some minor technical snags, the restoration went without a hitch. We agreed from the outset that fees would be based on time and materials, and there was no contract other than a handshake—unorthodox, but I had done my due diligence and learned what I needed to know. Other than one visit to Cobra Automotive to meet the staff and view the tired old Shelby after its sight-unseen purchase, the restoration was carried out via telephone and hundreds of digital progress photos. My recent visit to drive the finished car has made me a believer—a successful remote-control restoration is possible. In addition to a clear understanding of terms and objectives, three important ingredients are necessary: an honest, no-stories car; an honest restorer; and an honest customer. Since I acquired the GT350, it seems that the market for Shelbys—and every other hot-ticket American car of the era—has gone berserk. My April editor’s letter noted the many high prices realized at the Scottsdale auctions in February of this year, and since then, values have continued to ascend into the insanosphere—which allows me to rationalize that I’m no longer “upside-down” in my Shelby.
 
But of course, I really am, because the car is a keeper. It is the pleasure derived from any great machine that must justify its cost, and to prolong the pleasure, one must continue to possess the object. This is why I suspect that many of the fine things presented in this issue are “keepers” as well.