The Speedway Special

Whenever Steve Moal and Eric Zausner team up, you can be assured the result will be an exceptional car. This time Steve showed Eric a sketch of a '32 Ford coupe, with a Miller race car grille. Eric admired it, but had a suggestion: "That coupe's grille fights the flat windshield, but a DuVall split windshield on a roadster would work very well. Why don't we just build one?"

Eric's vision began with that old Miller race car grille shell hanging on a garage wall in Indy's "Gasoline Alley." He imagined a talented Indy 500 chief mechanic of the late 1940s, with time on his hands and access to some surplus aircraft components, a garage full of race car parts, and the best speed equipment of that era.

It's not such a far-fetched idea when you think about it. In that era, most of the great Indy 500 race cars were done by four Los Angeles-area builders: Frank Kurtis, Lujie Lesovsky, Quin Epperly, and A.J. Watson. They even called their Indy race cars roadsters. So our imaginary chief wrench would know something about classic hot rods, and he'd have the skills to build something remarkable. In that era, race cars had much in common mechanically: details like handbuilt tubular space frames, solid axles front and rear, torsion bar suspension, aircraft-influenced, disc brakes, knock-off Halibrand wheels, quick-release filler caps, and track-style noses. With a few exceptions, most of the era's powerplants were 270-cid Offys.

Offy omitted, what would be the ideal hot rod powerplant from the '40s? It would be a Flathead, of course, because the big overheads from Olds and Cadillac were in their infancy, and the Hemi wouldn't come along until 1951. So why not fit it with the ultimate in then-contemporary go-fast stuff? Like an Ardun overhead valve conversion and a S.Co.T. supercharger. There weren't a lot of race car-influenced rods early on, but there were a few. You could start with the sleek Frank Mack T, which won Best Hot Rod at the first Detroit Autorama in 1953. And you could consider the tube-framed, Emil Diedt-bodied roadster that Big Bill Edwards built at about the same time for Bob Weinberg. That car ran a gear-driven jackshaft rearward to a chaindriven GMC blower, positioned behind a full-race Flathead. While its blower drive setup was never quite sorted out, the car's shape and the concept were super trick.

Steve and Eric decided to see what could be accomplished today, using styling conceits and engineering elements from WWII aircraft and old Indy Championship racing cars, like riveted panels, handcrafted, plated and polished, suspension pieces, a handsome Miller race car-style grille and leather interior accents, completed with a vintage Indy car's high level of fit and finish.They began with one of Steve's twin-tube space frame chassis and a new Brookville '32 roadster body that Steve's shop stretched 4 inches for more cockpit room. The hood was also stretched 4 inches for improved proportions, so the resulting wheelbase became 114 inches. This car's piece de resistance is the handmade aluminum Miller-style grille shell. It's flanked by sleek E&J headlights on custom-crafted, faired-in supports, and it rises majestically above an aircraft-style grille covering the oil cooler. The slender directional signals are fabricated from teardrop-shaped, landing recognition lights that were adapted from a WWII bomber.

There's a piano-hinged hood top, and the hood sides have been omitted to better display the gorgeous engine and the brass radiator. In front, torsion bars, tubular hydraulic shocks, handmade batwings, and hairpin wishbones anchor a dropped and drilled beam axle. The brakes are vintage Halibrand magnesium racing disc brake calipers, with Lockheed Airheart actuators. "Those brakes took some special insert machining so they wouldn't leak," Steve reported. "Instead of being press-fitted as originally done, they now have threaded inserts. A lot of vintage racers hate 'em, but we've made them work well."

In the rear, the torsion bars are repeated, so this car's race-influenced suspension, while state-of-the-art 60 years ago, is actually quite sophisticated when compared to most contemporary hot rods with a front I-beam, live rear axle, and old-style leaf springs. "The suspension is loaded to the four corners," Steve explained. "It rides softly, even supple, but under cornering, it firms up nicely. The tall Dunlop racing tires have stiff sidewalls; they are not radials, but Eric says they corner nearly as well and they're good for the triple-digit velocities this car can easily hit. Naturally they're on gennie Halibrand magnesium 16-inch and 18-inch Indy racing wheels, with pin drive knockoffs. Eric is a guy who thinks a great hot rod is built around a great engine."

Accordingly, under that stretched hood, and considerably set back, is a stout, 3 3/8x4-inch, 286-cid French Flathead block, built by the legendary Art Chrisman. Inside, lightweight pistons, a steel crank, and a full race cam keep it percolating. A Chevy 409 water pump replaces the twin Ford pumps. There's a genuine Scintilla-Vertex magneto. The Ardun heads sport polished valve covers. Custom four-into-one headers run down under the car, which also has vintage speedboat exhaust cutouts. With a beautifully made rack-and-pinion opener, and powered by an electric motor, each divert the exhaust out to the sides through flared chrome outlets. "It's pretty loud though the mufflers," enthused Eric, "and even better without them." Best of all, when the cutouts are opened, the taillights and license plate light are switched off.

The engine is topped with a polished S.Co.T. blower on a handsome ribbed manifold, fed by a custom-finned plenum chamber flanked by twin vintage sand-cast, side-draft 46DCOE Weber carburetors. Perhaps there's a little poetic license here with the modern water pump and vintage Ferrari-sourced carbs, but cold-blooded, side-draft Rileys or Winfields would simply not have worked as well in a street application. What's more important is the look. This team really nailed the functionally finished and brightly polished appearance of an exotic racing motor of some 60 odd years ago. The firewall is a carefully milled sheet of 3/8-inch-thick aluminum. The fuel cutoff, fuel pressure regulator, manifold pressure gauge, and fuel pressure gauges are all firewall-mounted. That thin firewall has to support the race-derived Schroeder center-style steering box, which exerts a great deal of force on its mounting points, so those triangulated alloy side braces are both beautiful and functional. I've driven Bruce Meyer's ex-Doane Spencer '32 and can attest that Schroeder steering requires considerable effort at low speeds, and lightens up as you go faster. Moal cleverly built a quick-change box so the ratio can be altered, reducing steering effort to as much as 25:1 for everyday driving, then returning to the stiff 8:1 ratio that's desirable for competition.

The cowl is interrupted with neatly drawn twin vents, separated by the DuVall windshield. Inside the cockpit, handmade aluminum swung pedals ensure there's foot room and a stylized teardrop throttle pedal evokes a stock '32 unit, but it's taken much further. Eric insists the eye-catching seat design was influenced by nose or tail gunners' seats from a WWII bomber, right down to those small folding armrests. "I saw aircraft seats like that in a surplus yard," he said. "The holes are similar to cushions used as flotation gear." The classic instrument panel is packed with a host of wonderful vintage race car and aircraft-influenced gauges, including a rare Jones 0-to-10,000-rpm tach and a Jaeger Chronoflight clock. There's a separate water temperature gauge for each cylinder head. Slightly angled, the panel is much deeper than a stock '32's. It's carved into three sections, much like a Deuce coupe's, although it's even more reminiscent of a vintage Packard or Lincoln dash. The centrally positioned, black phenolic, two-part switch is for high/low beams and operating the Scintilla-Vertex magneto. The banjo-style, meticulously cord-wrapped steering wheel is a Brooklands type, like those used on many '30s- and '40s-era race cars. There's even a custom aluminum key fob with engraved starting instructions. It all fits, and it all works.

Eric is a cigar lover, so that vintage cigar lighter in the center console is functional. Even better, the vintage Moon fuel cutoff still operates, but the pressure pump top unscrews (it's not needed for this engine). Eric can pack a few quality cigars inside this rather unique humidor. And there's eye candy everywhere you look in this car: exposed wiring and switchgear, junction boxes and relays, functional lightening holes, raised screws and bolts, even the tubular bracing for the steering column. "We're not hiding the means of attaching anything here," said Steve. "Those pieces break up the surface tension, they reflect light, and they make the overall effect of this car so much more interesting." The decklid is liberally louvered, and the lower half is secured with thin latches that might have come off an old race car. "They've been sitting in my tool box for years, just waiting for an application like this," said Steve.

Eric and Steve made a sensible modern compromise for the gearbox. It's a Tremec T5. There's no sense having a powerful engine like this one and restricting it with a weak '39 three-speed or even a prewar Cad/La Salle box. It would have been a pity to have one of Chrisman's masterpieces under that long hood, and not be able to throw a shift with aplomb.

The Speedway Special roadster is beautifully finished in a variation of Ford's classic Washington Blue, and its fitted leather panels are traditional brown in color, although they look more like a burnt orange to me. The period effect, as Eric intended, "...is handsome and businesslike." "We got lucky with the proportions," he said. "By adding 4 inches to the hood, and 4 inches in the doors, and with those 4-inch louvered side valence panels that make it look as though there's a belly pan, this car's proportions are perfect." The covered area below the grille hides the oil cooler, and it resembles an airfoil. There's a streamlined aspect to this car that's accentuated by the way we reworked the cowl to flow rearward into the door tops like it does on a '33 Ford. "Those mirrors were made out of '37 Ford teardrop taillights," Eric noted. Inside the finished trunk, with its custom tank and drilled, quick-release filler, liberally drilled side panels swing down to reveal specially-made screwdrivers and wrenches. There are twin spark plug holders, like those on an old Miller that each hold four plugs. And there's a custom aluminum fitted box that holds quick-change gears for the Halibrand rearend and the Schroeder steering. One side reads "salt" and contains 2.78:1 gears and steering cogs for five turn lock-to-lock operation; the other side reads "track" and has 4:78s and two turn lock-to-lock steering gears. Most of the time, Eric will use a 3.78:1 rearend ratio and 3.5 turns lock-to-lock for street operation. A drilled push bar runs across the lower portion of the decklid, just above a wire grating to access the quick-change. The brake lights are wingtip markers from a P-51 Mustang. Twin exhaust pipes exit through neatly made chromed panels.

Nothing was left to chance in this complex, 2 1/2-year project. Eric helped conceptualize this roadster, and frequently visited the Moal shop in Oakland. "Eric is one guy who thinks outside the box," Steve added. "He's not looking for approval. He's happy to open new doors. For him, that's what hot rodding is all about. We took Eric's car to Pleasanton along with the AMBR-winning Hansen '32 roadster [STREET RODDER, February 2005]. People were 10 deep around the Speedway Special, and nobody was looking at the other one." Steve says he thinks "some people are confused by this car, but it's a detail thing; they get lost in the details. Most people simply can't ignore it." Neither can we ... and we can't help but wonder what this dynamic duo will come up with next.