Weekly Motor Fix: 1964 Chev Biscayne

7 April, 2015

 

Chevrolet’s Impala enjoys a coveted status as the unofficial ‘king’ of American cars. Thanks to drag racers, hot rodders, lowriders, and gangsters, the Impala is undoubtedly one of the world’s most recognizable American cars of the ’50s and ’60s. 

In 1958, Chevrolet introduced the Biscayne as a lower–priced, full-size equivalent to the Impala. Though the cars looked very similar, the Biscayne omitted most exterior chrome trim and featured a lower-grade interior trim. Nowadays, the differences between the Impala and Biscayne are long–forgotten by most — regardless of badge or trim, they’re both cool cars.

Steve Adams owns this 1964 Chev Biscayne, two-door ‘post’ coupe, which we spotted at last month’s Gear Jammers Hot Rod and Muscle Car Club show in Paraparaumu. The Biscayne was purchased from Trade Me as a near-complete build, which was “only needing paint.” We’ve all heard that one before … 

Once he began stripping the car back for painting, it was found to be looking the worse for wear, and essentially became subject to a full ground-up rebuild. Suffice to say that, since then, the Biscayne has received the paint it was needing. The blacked-out bumpers, grille, and wheels offer a refreshingly different take on the traditionally over-chromed old Chevy. 

Outside, the easiest way to distinguish a Biscayne from an Impala (aside from the badging, of course) is in the tail lights — the Biscayne runs two tail lights to the Impala’s three. 

Under the bonnet, the Biscayne runs a tough 383ci small block, backed by a five-speed manual gearbox, for maximum driver involvement. The diff is a standard item at this stage, although plans of installing a Ford nine-inch have been discussed, and looks set to happen sooner rather than later. 

The interior is also a tidy environment, without being anywhere near overboard. An aftermarket shifter and steering wheel take care of the driving dynamics, and a rev counter and trio of diagnostic gauges keep track of what’s going on under the bonnet. At this stage, all that is required is headlining, although Steve plans to give the interior a full once-over before long. 

Two years after purchasing it, Steve’s Biscayne is now the quick, comfortable, and reliable cruiser that he wanted. Not just that, though — it’s also a neat-looking car that manages to offer a slightly different take on the traditional shiny and low Impala — and in this day and age, that’s no bad thing!

“Gotcha!’’ The continuing tale of a Nissan/Datsun tragic – part two

In 1996, I was on a mission to buy a suitable pavement scorcher and visited the now-defunct Manukau City Car Fair. Unbelievably, among the sea of four-door utilitarian Japanese compacts was the absolute jewel in the crown, my automobile wet dream — a 1985 two-door R30 RS Nissan Skyline FJ20 Turbo five-speed manual in nice condition. The owner wanted $10,000 — a great deal.
But what did I do? I bailed out, paralysed by indecision. The money would have been a stretch, but it was the worst automotive choice I ever made. Instead, I went for a rusty Toyota Sprinter 8 Valve Twin Cam Coupé, which was pretty terminal from the get-go. I know. We’ve all done it, but there was really no excuse for passing up the Skyline, and I was haunted by that for years.

Last Tango in the Fast Lane

In the mid ’80s, I locked into a serious Nissan/Datsun performance obsession. It could have kicked off with my ’82 Datsun Sunny, though this would have been a bit of a stretch of the imagination, given its normally aspirated 1.2-litre motor — not the sort of thing to unleash radical road warrior dreams. But it did plant a seed, and it was a sweet little machine and surprisingly quick, in contrast to all the diabolical English offerings I had endured.
I was living in South Auckland at the time and was an unrepentant petrolhead. Motor racing was my drug of choice, and I followed the scene slavishly. Saloon car racing, with the arrival of the international Group A formula, was having a serious renaissance here and in Australia and Europe. There was suddenly an exotic air in local racing that had been absent for 15 years.
I was transfixed by this new frontier of motor racing that had hit our tracks in 1985–87 and the new array of machinery on display. In 1986, the Nissan Skyline RS DR30 made a blinding impression on me. The Australian Fred Gibson-run, Peter Jackson-sponsored team of George Fury and Glenn Seton were the fastest crew of the 1986 Australian Touring Car Championship. But Kiwi legend Robbie Francevic snuck through to win the Aussie Championship in his Volvo 240T after a strong start and consistent finishes.