There is the One.

The one that struck fear into all who would race the 1320. Men would grow weak at the knees, women would swoon at it’s appearance on the horizon. Trailer Queens would hide behind their skirts, Mustangs would stampede, those kids in the Chebbies would wail and gnash their teeth. Nova’s imploded, the tribe of Shelby would quietly fold their tents and vanish in a cloud of dust. Track officials wept at what was about to be done to their precious asphalt.

The advertisements never mentioned horsepower, it was rated on the Richter Scale. You knew it had passed by from the four-foot-long wrinkles in hot tarmac. Those unfortunate enough to be in the other lane often saw nothing but TNT* until they cleared the traps. The best way to win a race against it ... was if it broke, which it seldom did.

If you had the bucks, and balls, to buy one, it didn’t come cheap, and it wasn’t cheap to own. 6-8 MPG, on a good day.

With a few tweaks it went from frighteningly awesome to earth shatteringly terrifying. Add Ladder Bars, toss the stock carbs for a pair of Dual Line Holley 600's. Bolt up a set of Hookers running into a four inch system, swap out the stock rear rims for 10 Cragers, put some G50-15 MT’s on em while you’re at it. Pull the stock Ignition system and drop in a Mallory Dual Point Distro firing a Lightening Coil. Don’t forget the Edlebrock alum High Rise and really lumpy Isky bumpstick. For those with a truly hardy soul, shave 15 off the heads and take the ‘pression up to about 14.8. Then you filled up at the Airport.

It made Evil Wicked Mean and Nasty into something that meant more than just a shade scary.

What was this beast you ask?

What was the four wheeled demon in sheet metal wrapping?

The car Don Garlits said was the only thing that scared him when running A Class Stock?

This is it.

Mopar’s best.

The 1968-8-70 notchback HEMI CUDA!