The beautiful 52-year-never-gets-old gem from Mother Mopar looks as pretty as the price tag hints, with the no-nonsense 440 might and a Do-Or-Die Track-Pak. This bargain of a’ Cuda is upwhirling its retractable top to lure in a determined muscle car driver into parting ways with $375K. For that cash, the lucky owner gets a six-pack.
This deceptively harmless-looking Plymouth is not sending anyone to the gym – although it very well could do that with a flick of its 440 ci (7.2-liter) V8. Just say the word, and the mighty 390 hp under the shaker hood will rumble down the drag strip with enough kick to give the driver a good workout.
Four-speed manual gearbox, 1970 model year, convertible, 440-6, Track Pak, and Rally Road Wheels all add to one beautiful combo for the Barracuda nameplate. Add the twist – Lemon Twist, that is – and (alleged) matching numbers, and there you have it. The quintessential ‘Cuda that could take on anyone.
I mean anyone – including its more muscular (albeit not as prominent in the engine displacement department) and coveted-to-beat 426. That’s right, the awe-inspiring HEMI was a demigod to other muscle cars of the era (and some of the most adventurous ponies), but the 440 six-barreled bigger brother Plymouth was not afraid to give the HEMIs a run for their money.
Occasionally – read “quite regularly” – the HEMI would beat the 440 (and just about anyone else) on the quarter-mile-long straight. However, on the street, things were nowhere near the track record, as the overgrown six-pack was no longer a second-place contender.
This example had a splendid life, with only 67,488 miles on the odometer. The admiringly visible Twist Lemon yellow is an excellent choice, but the white vinyl soft top and interior make it downright fantastic. A superb dash with large gauges (not the Tic-Toc-Tach, unfortunately), together with the AM radio, is good company for the pistol-grip shifter.
The restoration was a good clean job on this 1970 ‘Cuda, as we can see in the gallery, with great attention to every (undercarriage) detail. And it would only pay respect to the rarity of this car. Fifty-two years ago, Plymouth rolled out just 29 ‘Cuda convertibles with the black-and-red “440-six” decals on the air scoops on the hood.
Out of those 29, twelve vehicles had the mighty power plant mated to an automatic. Our Barracuda isn’t one from the docile dozen but pays allegiance to the seventeen-exclusive club of four-speed manuals.
We mentioned the air ducts on the hood – let’s talk about them for a second. Strikingly badged “Shaker,” for obvious reasons, the crocodilian-like nostrils had a very catchy nickname among Plymouth aficionados and fans. Ready? The I Q E C A G – or Incredible Quivering Exposed Air Grabber – is the innovation that Mother Mopar came up with to feed the monster dual-barrel Super Commando Holley carburetor trio.
The philosophy may be primitive but is cutthroat efficient: carve a (big) hole in the hood and put a big air-duct inlet straight through that opening. This gimmick gave the 440 its output of 390 hp and a massive 490 lb-ft of torque (664 Nm) – this second number is the exact same that came out of the much-appraised 426 HEMI.
To put that power on the road, heavier-duty sway and torsion bars went under the body, while a clever choice of asymmetrical leaf-spring suspension on the back meant better road stability. The right rear suspension only had five-and-a-half steel leaves (while the driver’s side had a full six) to keep the weight balance optimal when a living person sat behind the wheel.
The 3.54:1 Dana 60 rear axle with a limited-slip diff made a good compromise between drag performance and road endurance. The quarter-mile top speed was a solid 100 mph (160 kph) over 14.40 seconds (according to independent tests performed back in the day). Most of its competition went for the 4.10:1 rear axle ratio, so the Barracuda had to overcome transmission lesser specs with motor might.
To keep the race appearances, the 1970 ‘Cuda Convertible with the 440-six barrel had no air conditioning, power steering, or power brakes. Heck, it didn’t even have the famous dog dish hubcaps. In the good street-racing tradition that festooned Motown during that era, the piston-heads of Mopar pushed the car into drag-battle chrome-lug-nuts-naked. They weren’t that keen on winning the beauty contest with useless makeup.
So, the $375,000 price is quite spicy, but bear in mind that this car sold for $145k back in 2011 (scroll down the page in the link to see it) after a full Galen Govier inspection that certified its value. Several years later, an offer of $260K failed to put the car in the hands of a new owner.
According to the seller at that time, “Real muscle still commands above average prices, and while some recession has been seen in the real-deal examples like this, expect a hard hit in the values for replicas and restomods as supply continues to meet demand.”