Want to save a bundle of cash? Then snatch up someone else's aborted Dodge Charger project car.
Building coffins has got to be an eerie gig. Aside from the intended use of the product at hand, there's the odd notion of benefiting so handsomely from someone else's extreme misfortune. However, for car guys it's an occupation worth exploring-at least in a figurative sense. Why be the tool who dumps loads of coin into a project car, loses interest in the thing, and then sells it for chump change? The only real winner in this all-too-common scenario is the guy who snatches up an aborted project car for pennies on the dollar. He's hot rodding's equivalent of a coffin builder, and you just might want his job.
While well-weathered project cars lure you in with their dirt cheap price tags, they're seldom the best platforms from which to begin. Often resulting in a heinous predicament where visions of heroism and glory meet failure and misery, it's a path that Bryan Perez didn't care to traverse. Instead of buying the cheapest Charger he could find-then spend years replacing every panel on it-Bryan laid out the money up front on a car that was already restored. Rescued from a Southern California junkyard in its past life, the Charger's former owner lost interest in it when some engine woes spoiled the fun. All the while, Bryan stood quietly on the sidelines waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike. After the car had been sitting for a year-and the owner's enthusiasm for it was at an all-time low-Bryan stepped in and struck up a deal for $22,000. He made a grand back selling extra parts that came with the car, and put in another $5,000 to rehabilitate the motor. If you're keeping track, that puts Bryan only $26K into his Charger. Try doing that at a Barrett Jackson auction.
Granted, part of the hot rodding experience is transcending the incessant challenges that surface when restoring a car, that kind of suffering isn't for everyone. "I have restored cars from the ground up and purchased cars that were already completed, and both have their advantages," explains Bryan. "With a car that has already been finished, the bulk of the cost of restoring a car has already been done and you can enjoy it right away. I have come to a point in my life where I must devote more time to my family and two sons, and having a car they could enjoy immediately was more appealing."
The tale of how the finished product came to be is transparent to bystanders, however, and all they see is one bitchin' Mopar. And they're quite justified in their assessment. For starters, its formula is simple: a mostly stock, mostly original car with a big motor. Secondly, it belches out a devilish rasp that only mega cubic inches-500 of them-can deliver. It even retains the original factory color scheme of medium metallic turquoise paint and a pearl white interior. Then there are the Charger's unique body lines that look more like its supersonic aeronautical contemporary, the F-105 Thunderchief, than sibling musclecars from the same era. Moreover, its overall condition is just right-nice enough to draw a crowd and elicit praise from onlookers, but with enough subtle imperfections to quell fears of driving it on the street. That it's something other than a Camaro, Mustang, or Nova is an added bonus
Gathering empirical data is a big deal here at PHR, and Bryan was kind enough to accommodate our request to test the Charger's mettle at the dragstrip. On the way to the track, electrical gremlins turned what should have been a one-hour drive into a four-hour marathon, but the car made it without the aid of a trailer. While it's a painful way to prove that it's a genuine driver, the point is that it's a genuine driver. On the first pass, Bryan hazed the drag radials, bounced the 500ci Wedge off its rev-limiter, and could only muster a 13.5 at 101 mph. That's better than having no ETs at all, but not by much.