1971 Ford Bronco 5.4l Triton V8 With Aod on 2040-cars

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Galpin Ford GTR1 supercar debuts in Monterey

Galpin Auto Sports has finally taken the wraps off the car we first previewed back in December, the Galpin Ford GTR1. A few weeks ago, we posted the first hints of just what the GTR1 would be capable of, with Galpin teasing that its 5.4-liter, twin-turbocharged V8 would produce in excess of 1000 horsepower, with a top speed of 225 miles per hour. Package all that in a coachbuilt body, and you have the recipe for one wicked supercar.
The price for the carbon fiber-bodied car is $1,024,000.
Now, we have all the glorious details. Galpin is targeting a production run of six cars, but if interest is strong enough, will expand its initial quote to 24 vehicles. The price for the carbon fiber-bodied car is $1,024,000. Opting for the aluminum bodywork could lower that, although it's not immediately clear by how much.

Ford profiles surprisingly affluent Focus ST buyers

It comes as no surprise when Ford says that 32-percent of Focus ST buyers are under 35, but we weren't expecting this: the average annual salary of Focus ST buyers is $127,000. Twenty-two percent of non-ST Focus buyers are under 35, while their average annual salary is $67,000.
We like the Focus ST because it has 252 horsepower, is genuinely fun to drive and offers great value for performance-minded car enthusiasts; facts that are not lost on customers, it seems. Ford says that the Focus ST has the highest percentage of conquest sales for a non-hybrid model it sells, and that the top-four trade-ins are from Honda, Chevrolet, Mazda and Toyota. Demand for the hot Focus is strongest in Los Angeles, Detroit, Houston and Orlando.
"[The Focus ST is] having this kind of halo effect for other vehicles we'd hoped for when we invested in the ST brand," says John Felice, vice president of US marketing, sales and service, because it's helping to boost sales of other Ford vehicles.

Project Ugly Horse: Part VII

Devils, Details and Weight Reduction
There are many things I could call this exercise. A party is not one of them.
I've spent three days crammed in the axle well of this 1989 Mustang with nothing to keep me company beyond a trouble light, a DeWalt drill on the very last of its legs and billion razor sharp, red hot slivers of metal with an affinity for my most sensitive of regions. My joints are raw from crawling around on the concrete. I'm half deaf from the shriek of the spot weld cutter and the boom of the cold chisel and hammer.