The Top Banana

Every so often a car stands out among its peers. It might not jump out and bite you, but it's got something that, after it calls you over, begs you to scrutinize its details. Its overall appearance looks well-planned and cohesive. Its details all work toward the same goal. It looks like somebody thought about the design throughout the process. Plain and simple, it just looks right--all the way from the big picture right down to its nuts and bolts. This is one of those cars...

In all fairness, we should back up and introduce its architect, Bobby Spere. He's had a pretty fortuitous life in the respect that his vocation has included his avocation: as a youngster he cut his teeth at Don and Bruce Blair's house before they opened their famed Blair's Auto Parts speed shop. From there, he dabbled in IMCA and speedway, and eventually landed at Bill Stroppe's shop. At Stroppe's he worked in everything, including NASCAR, rally car prep, Stroppe's highly successful Bronco/pickup race program, and even the Ford/Pantera recall program (in all they rebuilt some 1,188 cars from the ground up).

Now, it's cliche in storyland to say, "But this car wasn't always this way..." However, for this story it really does fit. Suffer us this example and read on.

Bobby started with a dusty yet solid-appearing '29 he picked up from a friend. Spider webs bound it to the floor, but at least it sported an early dual-quad small-block Chevy--sign of a hot rod for sure. Of course, the torsion-sprung axle jutted the wheels out past the fenders, but at least it had disc brakes--even if they weren't plumbed.

Once home, however, he found that only one carb worked (tinfoil sealed the other), somebody had gutted the distributor, and that the engine really was dirtier than he'd thought. Furthermore, since the prior "fabricator" cut the upper and lower flanges from the frame to accommodate the torsion springs, both framerails twisted up once the engine came out. Pulling the body revealed more frame cracks--everywhere. Consequently, "I cut it up, and into the trash it went," Bobby said. He gave the Chevy rearend and engine/trans combo away.

"So, there I was with my $8,000 body, fenders, hood, and shell," he said. So the parts sat.

"After looking at the body for about four or five years, I finally called Total Cost Involved and ordered a Stage III chassis." After that, things started moving...to a point. "Once I got the chassis, I thought I'd better strip the body, fenders, and such," he said. "Bad move; the body came back okay, but the fenders were total junk--holes, rusted-out spots that had plastic filler plugging them up. I sold all but one fender that still needed fixing." To add to that, the doorskins just about fell off their frames.

Recall Bobby's race shop career? Well, it put him in the right places at the right times with the right people. He struck up a deal with friend and race car-body fabricator Steve Davis. Squeak White, who worked for Davis, reskinned the doors, repaired the fenders Bobby found, and added an inch to the aftermarket splash aprons.

Now we're getting somewhere... For running boards, Bobby picked up some steel Rootlieb pieces. He then created running board ribs by hand-filing 3/8-inch steel rods. He mounted them by drilling and tapping blind holes every 4 inches. He also fabricated aluminum fender-to-hood garnish moldings to fill the gap between the two panels.

Another long-time friend, Dick "Magoo" Megugorac, supplied Bobby with aluminum windshield posts. Of course, the detail-driven Bobby massaged the design by machining the glass groove forward so the glass would sit on the cowl, not the dash (incidentally, that dash is a '29 upper/'32 lower combination by Davis). He also cut much of the meat away so the posts would match the cowl lines and welded Buck Smith Machine's mirrors to the posts themselves for a seamless transition.

Bobby then outfitted the cowl with a Bitchin' Products recessed firewall. He started the hood from scratch with a Rootlieb top and sides he fabricated. It mounts via one of Dan Fink Metalworks' latch kits. Out back he rounded off the bustle with one of Magoo's roll pans fitted with a Fink Metalworks Retract-a-Plate kit. After Davis and Squeak finished their part, Hemet's Tim Beard shot the body and all related components PPG Chrome Yellow.

The headlights have neither visible wires nor studs; Bobby machined the crossbar so that the wires pass directly from the housings, through the bar, and under the fenders. From there they run to the frame and disappear. He also machined the taillight bezels from 1/4-inch thick down to 1/8-inch thick for an ultra-clean look.

Bloomington's Ron Mangus fabricated a seat and treated the cabin in tan leather and wool carpet. Radio, you ask? Bobby don't need no radio; "I sing to myself," he claims.

For the engine, Bobby ground on an '87 Ford 302 block and heads a full two weeks before he swathed them in body color. After the Art Chrisman machining touches, Bobby assembled the engine with basically stock components. To shoehorn the Ford into the Ford, he mounted a short Ford SVO water pump that positions the fan perfectly in the Squeak White-fabricated fan shroud. He capped the mill with a Weiand intake, a Holley 1850-series carb, and a Cobra oil pan of rather special origins; it's a roadster pan, not a T-shaped unit of which Shelby made a mere handful.

Apparently the creative flair runs in the Spere family: Bobby's brother Jay designed and machined an air cleaner that uses a star bracket to hold the base to the carb. Three long Allen-headed bolts secure the top to the base from the base's bottom.

The 302 backs to a C4 trans that Riverside's Mogi Transmissions freshened up. In typical fashion, Bobby whipped up his own shifter linkage to the GM van column.

Bobby's wheels started as American Racing solid-center pieces--centers only, really. He had Universal Machine's Doug Upton machine Bobby's own design into the centers. He then returned the centers to American, whereupon they welded 14- and 15-inch bands in place (Editor's note: Don't even think of asking; American ain't swinging anybody else that deal). Santa Ana's Dick Holt then fabricated lug nut covers that use Billet Specialties hex nuts.

Yeah, the car's got a pretty neat story, but what really makes the car is the way all these things hang together so nicely in theme. The coolest thing is, Spere ain't afraid a bit about wearing on his toys. He's only about a mile or so from Huntington Beach's famed Adams Avenue Donuts, so at the least there's a Saturday morning cruise in order--then again, maybe a cruise up the coast would do if the weather's nice. Whatever the case, Bobby Spere built his heater to haul--and look good doing it.

Ron Mangus fabricated a custom seat for the car before swathing everything in tan leather and German square-weave carpet. Steve Davis married the '32 roadster dash to the '29's upper dash, and Bobby filled the combination with Ford Racing gauges.

A GM column mounts a Budnik half-wrap tiller. While we didn't show it, Squeak White fabricated an aluminum Carson-style top for inclement days.

Bobby Spere's a Ford guy--all the way from his Blair's Auto Parts beginnings straight through his 35-plus years with Bill Stroppe and the Stroppe/Ford connection. Despite the otherwise stock internals, the engine is just as one-off as the car; up top it sports an air filter Bobby's brother Jay machined, and down low a very limited-production Cobra oil pan that Carroll Shelby produced.