Paging Doc Hudson

Admit it–you never thought Hudson Hornets were performance vehicles until you saw the character Doc Hudson in the animated film "Cars." Although feared on American streets and tracks back in the day, the Hudson Hornet has remained almost anonymous to multiple generations of enthusiasts.

In the years following WWII, cars were largely pre-war designs tweaked for luxury, utility or performance. American manufacturer Hudson rocked the world in 1948 with the Commodore’s entirely new "step-down look," a low, long and sleek design in direct contrast to the bulbous 40’s ethos.

In 1951, Hudson dropped another bomb with the Hornet. Looking like a chopped and channeled hotrod right from the factory, the 124-inch wheelbase Hornet was offered in sedan, coupe, hardtop and convertible forms. At the heart of the Hornet was a quick revving 308ci inline-six delivering 145 hp–ten more than Oldsmobile’s “Rocket” 88 V8.  At around $2600, its price was comparable to a Buick Super. Continue reading…

Hudson was the first manufacturer to offer an options list containing hi-po parts in order to gain significant advantages on NASCAR tracks. The strategy worked, and the “Fabulous Hudson Hornet” cars dominated stock car racing.  Hornet driver Marshall Teague won 12 of 13 AAA races in 1951. In 1952 Hornets won 27 out 34 NASCAR races, took 22 out of 37 in 1953, and 17 out of 34 in 1954. 

Seattle’s Bill Deibel is an aficionado of significant American cars. In the past Bill has allowed me to joyride in his brilliant 1959 Chrysler 300E and smooth 1968 Oldsmobile 4-4-2.  Now I’m introducing myself to the driver’s seat of his dazzling, concours-quality Bali Blue 1951 Hudson Hornet Club Coupe.

I step down and slide onto the striped cloth covered bench seat. Grabbing the thin-rimmed steering wheel, I engage the starter and listen as the engine nonchalantly comes life. Clutch in, I take the tree-mounted three-speed lever and go for first, finding that with just inches separating detents, this must be the shortest-throw column shifter on the planet. 

The Hornet pulls strongly from almost any speed. Acceleration isn’t so much as a muscle car’s “shove you in the back,” as it is a consistent force. This car features dealer accessory dual-carburetors topped off with the fantastic orange air cleaner canisters. This package would later be a famous factory option called "Twin H Power," which curiously didn’t up the advertised horsepower rating over the standard single carb setup. Unfortunately, Hudson’s top “7X” performance package, which delivered around 220hp, was available only to police and stock car racers in 1951.

Motor Trend noted the 1951 Hornet “hums, buzzes, zooms, and everything else a self-respecting hornet would do (except fly.)” Its 97.5mph top speed was faster than any car they had tested, and the 19.9sec quarter-mile was only a couple-tenths behind the Olds 88. 

A chic looking, but difficult to read art-deco circular speedometer complicates keeping speed in check while I navigate Seattle streets. Sports car drivers would expect the circular gauge to the right of the speedo to be a tachometer, but that’s where the clock sits. Fuel and temp gauges, as well as amp and oil warning lights sit between the speedo and clock in a small rectangular window.  All in all, the dash layout scores extremely high on style, but maybe not so well on quick-glance legibility.

Where the Hornet really shines is around bends. Its low center of gravity translates to little body roll, and the suspension gobbles-up road irregularities like a fraternity on all-you-can-eat buffalo wings night. Some Hornets even came with the “severe usage” suspension option, which increased handling to levels unmatched by any other American sedan. The nicely weighted, but somewhat slow-geared steering are definite signs this car was designed for circle tracks, rather than switchbacks. Brakes are strong and don’t require the mammoth pedal pressure that many of its contemporaries require.

Unlike the fast but poor handling Oldsmobile 88, the Hornet is all about balance. It delivers enough acceleration, handling and braking to be a formidable force among the 1950’s elite. More importantly, it is a truly livable collector vehicle, dishing out healthy doses of comfort, style, reliability and parts availability. It might not have Paul Newman’s voice, but this Hudson Hornet is still cool as a cold-one on a summer night.