Big Block Mania: Who Cares About Polar Bears And MPG Anyway

A few weeks ago, I had a surgery on my brain. The surgery lasted 15 minutes and will be an experience that I'll always remember. The doctor was Junior, a car meet acquaintance. The tool? A '69/'70 Chevrolet Chevelle SS396 with a Muncie 4-speed. The problem with my brain, and myself, was that I hadn't yet experienced a big-block muscle car, let alone with a 4-speed, all wrapped up in one of the most desired and bad-ass American cars ever produced. Now I'm cured... and I'm hooked on big blocks.

Guys, we need a time machine.

It was a Friday night and I was cycling to my friend Vadim's house. The air was warm and humid. The roads were calm and the cars on the road were few. But, out of nowhere, a rumbling noise broke the night's silence. If you live in Belgium, you stop getting excited when you hear a V8-like noise because it always ends up being a freakin' Harley. It's not that V-twins don't sound satisfying or cool, but if I was to have my hearing decimated, a V8 is the weapon of choice. Anyways, in a spartanly lit road in Belgium, a red Chevelle with two fat black stripes spread from hood to trunk passed by at full chat. The driver let of the throttle and the unburnt fuel caused a few crackles and pops while the beast took a breath. No wonder it was hard to cycle the journey's final moments: my jaw had been dragging on the asphalt since the Chevelle's fly-by.

A few minutes later, while waiting for Vadim to open the door, a bassy rumble appeared in my hearing field. Obviously, anything sounding different that your typical diesel/gasoline four cylinder is worth checking out. Unsurprisingly, the culprit of all this ruckus was the Chevelle I had seen 10 minutes ago, only then to find Vadim and Junior, the car's owner, getting out of it.

Big Block VS Small Block

The first thing you notice on the Chevelle is its stance. The most accurate term to describe the car's look is "bad-ass". The feeling you get when you feast your eyes on the Chevy's simple and quintessentially 60's muscle car design is similar to the one you get when looking at Ice Cube: even if he's friendly and cool with you, he always looks angry. You sense a pleasant intimidation. In my opinion, only a handful of cars have this charm, like the Mercedes G63 6x6, vintage muscle cars or pre-war luxury cars. But the Chevelle's styling would've seemed faulted if it wasn't equipped with the legendary Magnum 500 wheels. The rear-ones are probably the coolest ones to observe, since they're 1-2" wider that the fronts and have a polished lip the size of probably two Lego figures. These Mags improve the car's styling by landslide. After having seen a 350 Chevelle with factory Cragars that made it resemble a boat on four wheels, Junior's one was similar to a large Rottweiler, ready to attack. Passing in front of the passenger window, I snooped inside to recognise a beautiful, all-metal Hurst shifter, bucket seats and a black vinyl interior. Then, I noticed the "SS396" emblems, meaning that it had a 396 c.i. V8 big-block with 376 hp at top spec. However, Junior told me it didn't have a 396, but a 454 c.i., also a big-block. In case you're not into inches, 454 c.i. equates to 7,500 cc. What a monster of an engine! The 454 was one of the baddest, most powerful engines ever put inside a muscle car, towards the end of the muscle car wars of the 60's. When new, the Chevelle supposedly made around 450 hp, which is considered kinda conservative. The SS454s probably made closer to 500 hp. You may wonder what is the price for all this goodness. Guess....WRONG! Junior paid 12k Euros for this incredible Chevelle, the same price as a new, base model 1,2 lt Renault Clio with a whopping 75 hp. Pretty hard to choose between the two, innit?!

The Mags are the real deal.

After a few hours of chilling and car talk, it was time to go home: Junior in his 7,5 lt muscle car and me on the mountain bike. One of the least ecological and coolest cars of all time versus the least polluting means of transport, a bicycle. Bizarrely and thankfully, my luck turned to my favour that night because Junior offered to take me home in the Chevelle. So much win and we had yet to put the bike in the trunk.

True dat!

The time was about 2 a.m.. The Chevy looked even meaner than it did before. The yellowy street lights, combined with the sky's darkness and the mist on the car's body would've been a great photo. Unfortunately, the Samsung S5's camera wouldn't have done the car justice; its camera is crap at night.  Five grueling minutes later, the bike had been wrestled in the Chevelle's enormous, insulation-less trunk... just. The trunk couldn't close unless we dented it. We said "Fuck it! We'll leave it like this" and got in the car.

The Chevelle is an enormous car for European standards. It is a coupe with an enormous V8, space for five adults, even six, if you have one with bench seats, and enough space in the trunk for about two, maybe three dead bodies; or probably 10 bags filled with pineapples; or a mountain bike. The seats are heavily sprung and comfortable, and the interior is airy and very roomy. The accessories are pretty sparse, since we're talking about a car from the late 60's. But you don't really need much in a car like this.

The big daddy of V8s.

We buckled-up and Junior fired-up the beast. The sound of the 454's lumpy idle, mixed with the smell of super unleaded and the jiggling of the car's body, caused by the stonking motor, are part of the muscle car experience. Even at 30-40 kph in suburban Brussels, you can feel the big-block's 700 N-m of torque. The power delivery was simply effortless, like a body-builder lifting half a dozen 1,5lt water bottles. As we progressed to the main road, the Chevelle started to show its cruising potential. The ride is wafty and bouncy but perfect for relaxation.

Which brings me to the other facia of the Chevelle's bipolarism: it's made for hooning. Arriving at the red light before the 2/2,5 km radar-less straight, I said to Junior to show me the Chevy's potential. He smirked and, when the light turned green, he gave it the beans. Accompanied by the Hurst shifter's click-clack, the 454 sounded brutal and kinda like a machine-gun/velociraptor. In every gear change, the big-block oozed-out more and more torque. You feel as if the car can tow a Hummer without breaking a sweat. A Chevelle with a big-block and a 4-speed turns all your senses up to 11 and you start to giggle like Cheech and Chong. You can even feel the posi-traction (Chevy's LSD) working, something I've never felt in any other car. You notice the diff doing its job, constantly varying the speed of each rear wheel. I was in heaven; I finally understood why there's so much hype surrounding the 454 Chevelles... and I loved every single second of that drive.

You have to see it to believe it.

Succeeding our arrival, Junior showed me the big block, which was, obviously, pretty big. It was quite a lump of engine and I hadn't ever seen one its size in a car. As impressive as all that was, Junior had to leave, so we exchanged fist bumps and off he went. Nevertheless, he went around the 600 m long cul de sac that is right after my house, so he could go back up the straightaway perpendicular to the main road. I waited for the Chevelle to go down the straight, hopefully at full chat. Again, the car gods were on my side that day. As Junior reappeared, he went from warm-up mode to full bonanza mode, flooring-it till the end of the road. Of course, I could not contain my enthusiasm and started to giggle like a mofo... again. I would be very surprised if none of my neighbours woke up to a Chevelle 454 at full song.

The most accurate word to describe the Chevelle 454 is "sensational". It is so sensational that when I had to study in the weekend for the fuckloads of tests assigned by my irking school, I was only thinking about how incredible the big-block experience was. Cars like this leave you in an awe that you can't forget. You end-up wanting more and more. The only way to solve this problem? Buy one! You don't even have to buy a Chevelle. Plenty of vintage American cars came with big-blocks. If anyone ever offers you to go for ride in a big-block car, especially one like the Chevelle, just do it. You'll feel like you've never felt before in an automobile. It wakes you up and fills you with adrenaline and excitement. It's gas-guzzling America at its finest.

Sweet Driving Songs Ep.4: The Allman Brothers Band "Jessica"

Moustache time!

This is a real treat for you guys because it's the soundtrack of one of your favorite car shows. Seriously, if you don't recognise it from the first 15 seconds, well, you probably haven't had any access to neither the internet nor the TV for quite some time. Don't fret though, 'cause if you don't know this song's value to the car world, you'll appreciate it for the phenomenal tune that it is.  While listening to "Jessica", keep one thing in mind: there are two lead guitarists, one bassist, one pianist and, not one, but two drummers! How often do you hear of a band like this in rock n' roll, let alone any music genre?! Not very often, that's for sure. The sound is classic 70's rock, with a pleasant balance between all the instruments, one's presence not being superior to the other's. The accent of Gregg Allman (singer, lead guitarist and one of the founders) is unsurprisingly southern, since he comes from Nashville, Tennessee, and not rednecky at all, which is a plus. What I like the most about the Allan Brothers are their solos and instrumental songs, such as "Jessica". You can really see the pedigree and skillfulness of all the band members. Albums like "Eat a peach", "Brothers and Sisters", "At Fillmore East", etc are the reason that music junkies like me end up spending a hefty amount of their money on records. Oh, and one last thing: please listen to the whole song. Your time will not be wasted.

Sweet Driving Songs Ep.3: Thelonious Monk's "Nutty"

Monk in deep concentration.

My fellow bloggies, you better start getting used to seeing posts of jazz on Sweet Driving Songs cause I'll rape (in a good way) your eardrums worse than John Wayne Gacy did to teenage boys... before killing them. Okay, okay it may seem as an extreme comparison to you, but with so many marvelous jazz tunes to listen to and discover, let's say that you will have enough to create a playlist worthy of a trip around the world; by car, of course. Thelonious Monk, in case you don't know, is considered one of the best jazz pianists to have even set foot upon our beautiful planet Earth. At the beginning of his career, Monk wasn't well perceived, especially when he played in France, because of his purist-upsetting style. He was different and ballsy at the same time, for going against the general public's fear of the unknown and sticking to his guns, as we say. The way Monk has you hooked on a major chord progression and then, out of nowhere, falls to a minor is typical of his way of composing. His style is chaotic but controlled at the same time. Think of it as the rallying of music. In rallying, you have to settle for spontaneous decisions, resulting in you making up ground as if you've eaten the worst Indian meal of your life and, at the same time, tickling the balls of physics by pushing your ride to the limit. Thelonious does the same thing with his piano, producing a melody that could've easily sounded off but ends up exceptional. If that isn't mastery, then I'll ride bicycles for the rest of my life and shout at people who do burnouts. Check out Thelonious Monk's Trio awesomeness here!  

Sweet Driving Songs Ep.2: Cypress Hill's "When The Shit Goes Down"

A few years back, I didn't listen at all to Cypress Hill. It was probably B-Real's annoying voice that kept me disinterested. Bare with me for a sec, though. After scrutinizing DJ Muggs' funky-ass beats, overflowing with booming bass, crazy sound effects and mint sampling, you have to plainly appreciate his mastery. Hell, he's even sampled Jimi Hendrix's "Are you experienced" in the legendary song "How I could just kill a man"! The next step is falling in love B-Real's brat-like voice. The way he fades away at the end of verses, being like "Homeboyyy" or "Throw your set in the aiiiiir" is just addicting. Add to that the flowing and sometimes ecstatically violent rhymes, combined with his SoCal latino accent and you get quality music to bounce to. Now I can't stop listening to Cypress Hill and their songs never get boring. Lend me your ears!  

Wooden Bike: The Future Of Hipster Transportation

Wooden steering wheel

Thessaloniki seafront

Wooden seat!

Gears

When we thought up of our first review of a certain vehicle, we thought that, as a car blog, we should review cars... obviously, A review of any car, even a Hyundai Getz, I dare say. But, there are a few obstacles. I haven't got my driver's licence yet and I've only driven two times. Sooo, since it's a beautiful, sunny day in the city of Thessaloniki (Greece), I've decided to rent a bike, cycle by the sea and search for some barn finds. To my surprise, along with all the normal bikes, there were city bikes made out of wood. No joke! For 3,5 Euros/hour, I said "Fuck it!" and got the wooden bike.  It is stunning to look at. The best part of the design, in my opinion, is the seat, because of its complex curves. And of I went to search for some barn finds and review this bike. The steering wheel is wobbly and requires your hands to be placed at the edges of the handles, for a smooth steering feel. The gear are integrated in the hub of the rim, what could be best described as a 2-speed automatic tranny. You brake in the rear by counter-pedalling. The front brake is squishy but smooth even for "performance cycling". In the wet, the wooden handles would probably make your hands slip around. But in the dry, the handles don't bruise your hands from extensive use like the rubber ones do. Since the roads in Greece are worse than those in " Mad Max", I got to feel the lack of suspension travel... cause the suspension is made out of wood. The wooden seat turned my private parts into Marmite. The small bumps found in the asphalt and the sidewalk don't upset the bike's ride quality.

E30 and old Opel

After 15 minutes, I took a small detour to test the bike's off-road capabilities. There's was a very thin trail, on a mini-hill. A guy on a mountain bike didn't manage to go up trail and walked it off. I breathed-out and pedalled like a mofo to go up the hill, just to get enough momentum for the descent. The Coco-Mat bike OWNED IT because of its enormous rims and tires, Impressive!

E30 and skoda in the back

Shortly after, I arrived at the lot with the cars. There was a blackish E30 sedan with an M-Tec wing and, presumably, BBS replicas. A white E30 with real BBS rims was hiding in the back next to a Skoda, In the front, there was an old Opel from the 60's, I think. No way to get in from the front cause the door was locked to the fence. I went to the left side of the property ,and an old man, who works in an old-ass mini-golf course next to the lot, wanted to know about the bike. Post-explication he let me take pictures of an effed-up Jeep. Filled on the inside with random shit, wood placed on the bonnet, inaccessible driver's door, knackered grill and collapsed axles rotting to the ground. To the remember this cool adventure, the old-man let met wrestle out the Jeep's old Thessaloniki licence plate. I'm guessing the Jeep was either a CJ2 or a CJ3A, but for obvious reasons, it's hard to tell.

With new blog material in hand, I finished of the day with ride to the park, on the hill, by the sea, There was still plenty of sunlight left. So I put on some Thelonious Monk and chilled by the sea. As for the bike, it got loads of attention by passers-by. I briefed three different groups of people on the bike's construction and drivability (ridability?). A couple who was taking pictures at the park, took a few more on the bike! The Coco-Mat wooden bike could be best described as a Bmw i3 with Delorean levels of coolness. And yes, it the ultimate hipster bike.    

Effed-up Jeep

Sweet Driving Songs Ep.1: Led Zeppelin's "Kashmir"

I wonder who's Flavo Flav.

Boys and gals, I present to you our blog's new segment, called: "Sweet Driving Songs". The reason for its creation is quite simple, really . I'm tired of listening to crappy, dull, simplistic, soulless songs playing in the buses, the bars, the clubs, the parties,... The list goes on and on! I know some of you love to max out your car's sound system, and I do too. It's the best way to enjoy and analyse the songs we're listening to. BUT, repetitive pop music and all that techno, trap, dubstep crap is more sound polluting that the straight-piped 1,2L diesel Polo you're driving. Now, some of you may be reminded of the songs and the memories that go with them. And the rest of you may discover some cool new tunes to add on your playlists. Good music and nice cars go hand in hand like Flavor Flav and chains with full sized clocks on them. Without further ado, crank up the volume to Led Zeppelin's "Kashmir". Robert Plant and Jimmy Page were inspired to make this epic song while driving through the Sahara Desert. Check it out here!

 

Sorting Out Nuts: The Way To Meditate

In the 21st century, the world is more stressed than ever. Plenty of companies' stockholders are treating employees like a pimp treats his hoes, pressuring them to work harder for a heftier profit in the old farts' pockets. How do you think they pay for their viagra-infested orgies? What about the media? It is rendering us unconsciously paranoid, with us looking out for terrorists and other wacky people in the subway. But even simpler things, such as trying to start a conversation with our crush, can have us shaking more than a wacky waving inflatable arm flailing tube man. What do we do?

No, not these nutz!

There are many ways we deal with stress. Some go down the spiritual route by meditating. practicing zen Buddhism or even staring at the vastness of the sky and philosophizing. Others choose to smoke a little bit of chronic (a.k.a. Dr. Dre, Snoop Doggy Dogg, Ice Cube, you get my flow), work out, go for massages, etc. There are a few problems if you're a car enthusiast, though. For a start, meditation takes time to learn. So instead of searching for wallet annihilating project cars on craigslist, you'll be teaching yourself how to breathe in and out like Confucius. Also, smoking cheeba-cheeba doesn't mix very well with driving. And why go to the gym when you can lift your spare wheel or muffler? Plus, sensual massages or RC car building can end up using a decent chunk of your budget in the long term. The solution: sorting out nuts.

Now that's more like it

Well, by nuts, I mean bolts. You know, the ones lying around your garage the same way LEGOs are in an 8-year old's room. Simply, give each thread type its designated box. Now, assemble all the random bolts in another box. Proceed by taking one bolt at a time, trying to make the thread click with one of the separated bolts, and, when it clicks, put the bastard in the right box. You have to be concentrated on your task to prevent screw-ups. It automatically makes you forget all of your problems and relax. As they say in the movie "Anchorman": "60% of the time, it works, every time". Just kidding; it always works.

So what is the moral of today's story? If you wanna be zen and clean up your garage, sort out nuts.



\