1976 Ranchero Explorer 500**low Reserve *64k Miles-a/c-p/s-p/b-*california Car* on 2040-cars

Auto blog

Long winter means most automakers won't curb summer shutdown

A lot more happened during this latest brutal winter than days of snow and Netflix binges. Automotive sales took a battering. After all, going out car shopping when it's eleventy-billion degrees below zero isn't a good time.
Because of this Old Man Winter-induced sales slump, inventories are abnormally high as we head into the summer car buying season. That's led some analysts to predict that automakers will be more inclined to idle factories this summer, in a bid to trim some of the built-up inventory. Traditionally, American manufacturers offer up a two-week break in the middle of summer, although the burgeoning sales of the past few years have seen this practice become less popular.
"We're likely not going to see an acceleration this year," Jeff Schuster, a senior vice president at LMC Automotive, told The Detroit News. "We'll see production increases in 'pockets' but I don't know if it will be as widespread as in recent years."

Junkyard Gem: 1973 Mercury Marquis Brougham 4-Door Pillared Hardtop

Ford's Mercury Division debuted the Marquis in the 1967 model year, as a sporty coupe based on a stretched Ford LTD chassis. When the LTD got an update for 1969, so did the Marquis, and production of that generation of the top-of-the-line Mercury continued through 1978 (the Grand Marquis hit streets the following year). The 1969-1978 Marquis was a big, imposing land yacht, and the Brougham version came absolutely loaded with affordable luxury. Today's Junkyard Gem is a Marquis Brougham from the first year of the Malaise Era, found in a Phoenix self-service car graveyard recently. This car appears to have spent decades sitting outdoors in one of the harshest climates in the country, and so it's in rough shape. The vinyl top received the full thermonuclear treatment and is mostly obliterated by now. The interior got thoroughly cooked as well. Still, its original opulence shines through if you use some imagination. What hurts is that this car was packed with most of the good options, including the mighty 460-cubic-inch (7.5-liter) V8 engine with four-barrel carburetor. The price for the 460 was just $76 in this car, or around $548 in today's money. The base engine was a 429 (7.0-liter). Power numbers were way down for 1973 when compared to a couple of years earlier, partly as the result of tightening emissions standards but mostly due to the switch from gross to net power ratings that began midway during 1971 and was completed by the end of 1972. This engine was rated at 202 horsepower and 330 pound-feet. The only transmission available was a three-speed automatic. We can assume that the original buyer of this car and its single-digit fuel economy had a rough time when the OPEC oil embargo hit in the fall of 1973. Believe it or not, air conditioning was not standard equipment on the '73 Marquis Brougham (you had to move up to a Lincoln for that). This one even has the automatic temperature control feature, adding a total of $508 to the cost of this car (about $3,661 in 2023 dollars). That AM/FM/8-track radio—or, in fact, any radio—was an extra-cost option as well, with a price tag of $363 ($2,616 after inflation). The MSRP for the 1973 Marquis Brougham sedan (known as a "pillared hardtop" thanks to the frameless window glass) was $5,072, which comes to $36,555 in today's dollars. Obviously, its out-the-door cost would have been much higher with all the options.

The fascinating forgotten civil defense history of Mister Softee trucks

Hemmings came across an interesting article from the Throwin' Wrenches blog about the intersection of ice cream, cars and civic duty in America's late 1950s. In particular, it focuses on the Mister Softee trucks, which criss-crossed neighborhoods of the eastern US serving ice cream. Looking past the ultra-durable vehicles used - heavy-duty Ford-based chassis, for what it's worth - the article delves into some deeper national-security territory.
See, Mister Softee truck owners were voluntary members of the Civil Defense, thanks to all the useful stuff (potable water, generators, freezers and fridges) that the machines carried with them for serving ice cream. Click over to Throwin' Wrenches for the full run down of how Mister Softee would have stepped in to help fight if the Cold War ever turned a little hotter.