By Rob Einaudi

Editor-in-Chief

Ford of Britain produced the Consul Capri from 1961 to 1964, and I believe David is right in thinking he has the only one on CarDomain! Sweet ride!

By Jim Brennan

UDMan

Welcome to the CarDomain Obscure Muscle Car Parking Lot, a feature in which we try and introduce you to muscle cars you may never have known about, as well as re-define what a muscle car can be. As we discovered last time, fire-breathing V-8 Muscle Cars are not the exclusive property of the States. A great example was the Chevy Firenza built in South Africa during the early 70′s. However, Ford of South Africa also had a V8 powered Muscle Car that was available to the South African Enthusiast, converted by Basil Green Motors of Johannesburg. Introducing the Ford Capri Perana.

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By Alex Vickers

Katakuna

This edition of “Rust in Silence” features a rarity among enthusiast cars: my grandmother’s 1973 Mercury Capri. When her oldest son, Charlie, died of skin cancer in 1981, my late grandfather flew out to California to bring back his body, both his cars (one of which I have now) and the rest of his things. My grandparents each took one car and proceeded to drive them. My grandmother never took care of the Capri, which is apparent when you see how far it has deteriorated. Wrecked, rotted, rusted through, interior torn to shreds, and for the last fifteen years it has been her ghetto storage unit. The engine turns over, yet the transmission has literally rusted off. The Capri has become a worthless, rusty turd. I’m sorry to say that two weeks ago it was towed to the local scrapyard to be crushed. Very few cars ever come into her possession and come out alive, this one never had a chance. Sorry potential buyers, it’s too late.

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I have a sickness, and the doctors don’t know what to call it: it causes me to buy excessive numbers of junk cars and do stupid things to go get them. What’s the farthest you’ve gone to pick up a car you’ve never driven? Well, this was my ordeal: last Friday I got on a train here in Havre, Montana, and rode it 26 hours to Seattle via Portland. Jen picked me up at the station and we drove in her ’81 Eagle up to Mount Vernon where I took delivery of the car that’d brought me out here: a junk 1982 Mercury Capri with a 302, a four-speed, and a totally clapped interior. After a few minutes of the usual formalities, I made off with my "new" car, leaving plenty of braking distance as per the seller’s warnings, then stopping at the first gas station where we bled the alarmingly spongy brakes. By this time, all the mouse crap encrusting the engine had heated up to operating temperature and the smell was powerful, but the oil leaking onto the exhaust was a little more worrisome. We picked up a horrifically-overpriced fire extinguisher at the next gas station, and managed to limp the Capri the 60-odd miles back to Seattle without incident, though the wheel bearings were howling and the headlights were randomly flashing on and off due to a bad switch. Continued…

On Monday, Jen and I got the head pulled off her 1984 Escort diesel and took it down to the head shop to have the springs swapped over and the valve lash set. Then while Jen was swapping the remaining parts from the old head to the new one on her kitchen counter, I went to go pick up some parts for my 1988 Merkur project from some great folks from the MekurSport site. They sent me away with a new grille, bumper support, bumper cover, headlights, fog lights, turn signal, and driveshaft.  Somehow I fit all of that stuff in the back of the Capri and I also installed the new headlight switch while I was there.

I took off from there and headed back to give Jen a hand installing the new head on her diesel. We wrapped that up at about 5am, with the head torqued down and both timing belts synched up—we’d ended up having to lift the motor halfway out to remove the crank pulley. Next day, I took off from Seattle for Montana in the Capri, which started running real hot after only about 45 minutes on the road. I pulled off the road and let it cool down three times before finally deciding it needed a radiator, and ended up swapping in a new one in the AutoZone parking lot in a little down called Quincy. It wasn’t until I started getting into the chilly mountain passes that I realized the heater core was also plugged, and I had to bundle up in most of the clothing I’d brought to continue. Still and all, I rolled into Havre on Wednesday morning just in time for my 8:00 class. My all-80′s vacation had been a great time, but I don’t think I’m going to be buying any more junker cars for awhile, at least not those that have to be driven 800 miles back home.