12/27/2023 0 Comments Heartbeat city camaro reviews![]() The lack of a 327 badge on the front fender should have been enough, but you never know. I actually got down on the ground to look at the engine’s undersides enough to absolutely confirm that. Let’s let a few facts get in edgewise here: this really is a six cylinder ’69 Camaro. ![]() Was it her first and only car? Hard to imagine how many miles would it have by now? A hand-me down from…an aunt? Mom? Dad?!? How many guys would have bought a six cylinder Powerglide ’69 Camaro? This is the ultimate all-American hot-blooded pony car and I guess I’m going to have to use the word “icon”, even if I promised myself I wouldn’t. The other unfortunate thing about this whole affair is that I really wanted to know a bit about this Camaro and its owner. The Great White Camaro Spirit was out for revenge. And it’s all that much more unpleasant with a white car a study in contrasts. Where’s the ever-present marine layer, when you really need one? Most cars are tough to shoot in the sun, much more so if they’re partly in the shade. Unfortunately, that Sunday turned out to be blazingly sunny. But in addition to wet, she was cool, and said she’d leave it on the street on Sunday. No, it was a woman, fifty-ish, which made me feel like even more of a stalker than I already did, trying to confront her in an absolute gushing downpour. Now, for some reason, I always assumed it would be a guy, despite it obviously being a six. Aha! I zipped in behind it, parked two cars over, and stood in the dumping rain for the driver to get out. Then one day early this summer, in one of our last seasonal rains, I spotted it in traffic, heading to its lair. How often we detoured down the alley, to see if its neighboring car might be gone. But I could never get decent shots of it, sandwiched between a couple other mundane cars. ![]() Well, more like a carport one without a roof, actually. Well, I’m not going to fall for that….crash!* !!īack off, Great White Camaro Spirit I actually did shoot this on a sunny summer Sunday, after waiting two years to catch it out of its garage. Or is it their way of extracting revenge for my going way overboard with its 1970 successor? No, I know what it is: it’s the fact that I refuse to take shots of all the pristine, restored and modded ’69 Camaros that come out of their hiding places on sunny summer Sundays. ![]() I still see this Camaro in daily use) So what is this thing with me and white six-cylinder Powerglide gen1 Camaros? The last one inspired a ridiculous flight of fantasy, so maybe this one is baiting me, to trip me up and write something stupid again. ![]()
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