1972 Chevelle Restomod on 2040-cars

Auto blog

Official USPS Muscle Cars stamps coming to a mailbox near you

As much as our digital lives have cut down on our trips to the post office, there are still times that sending "snail mail" is necessary. With us car lovers in mind and philately in their hearts, the good folks at the United States Postal Service will introduce a new stamp design called "Muscle Cars" starting on February 22.
Designed by artist Tom Fritz, the new collection of stamps consist of five classic muscle cars: 1969 Dodge Charger Daytona, 1970 Chevrolet Chevelle SS, 1967 Shelby GT-500, 1966 Pontiac GTO and 1970 Plymouth Hemi 'Cuda. In addition to just the stamps, the USPS is also commemorating the new series with plenty of collectable memorabilia. Previous car-related stamps include 50s Sporty Cars from 2005 and 50s Fins and Chrome from 2008.

The future's electric — but the present is peak gasoline. Burn some rubber! Do donuts!

I vividly remember the year 1993 as a teenager looking forward to getting my driver’s license, longingly staring into Pontiac dealerships at every opportunity for a chance to see the brand-new fourth-generation Firebird and Trans Am. Back then, 275 horsepower, courtesy of GMÂ’s LT1 5.7-liter V8 engine, was breathtaking. A few years later, when Ram Air induction systems freed up enough fresh air to boost power over 300 ponies, I figured we were right back where my fatherÂ’s generation left off when the seminal muscle car era ended around the year 1974. It couldn't get any better than that. I was wrong. Horsepower continued climbing, prices remained within reach of the average new-car buyer looking for cheap performance, and a whole new level of muscular magnitude continued widening eyes of automotive enthusiasts all across the United States. It was all ushered in by cheap gasoline prices. And as much as petrolheads bemoan the coming wave of electric vehicles, perhaps instead now would be a good time for critics to sit back and enjoy the current and likely final wave of internal combustion. Today, itÂ’s easier than ever to park an overpowered rear-wheel-drive super coupe or sedan in your driveway. Your nearest Chevy dealership will happily sell you a Camaro with as much as 650 horsepower. Not enough? Take a gander at the Ford showroom and youÂ’ll find a herd of Mustangs up to 760 ponies. Or if nothing but the most powerful will do, waltz on over to the truly combustion-obsessed sales team of a Dodge dealer and relish in the glory of a 797-hp Charger or 807-hp Challenger. Want some more luxury to go with your overgrown stable of horses? Try Cadillac, where you'll find a 668-horsepower CT5-V Blackwing. You could instead choose to wrap that huffin' and chuggin' V8 in an SUV. Or go really off the rails and buy a Ram TRX or Jeep Wrangler Rubicon 392 and hit the dunes after a quick stop at the drag strip. Go pump some gas. Burn a little rubber. Do donuts! There is nothing but your pocketbook keeping you from buying the V8-powered car of your dreams. Yes, just about every major automaker in the world has halted development of future internal combustion engines in favor of gaining expertise in batteries and electric motors. No, that doesnÂ’t mean that gasoline is going extinct. There are going to be gas stations dotting American cities and highways for the rest of our lifetimes.

24 Hours of Le Mans live update part two

We tasked surfing journalist Rory Parker to watch this year's live stream of the 2016 24 Hours of Le Mans. What follows is an experiment to experience the world's greatest endurance race from the perspective of a motorsports novice. Parker lives in Hawaii and can hold his breath longer than he can go without swearing. For Part One, click here. Or you can skip ahead to Part Three here. I write about surfing for a living. If you can call it a living. Basically means I spend my days fucking around and my wife pays for everything. Because she's got a real job that pays well. Brings home the bacon. Very progressive arrangement. Super twenty first century. I run a surf website, beachgrit.com, with two other guys. It's a strange gig. More or less uncensored. Kind of popular. Very good at alienating advertisers. My behavior has cost us a few bucks. I'm terrible at self-censorship. Know there's a line out there, no idea where it lies. I still don't understand any of the technical side. Might as well be astrophysics or something. For contests I do long rambling write ups. They rarely make much sense. Mainly just talk about my life, whatever random thoughts pop into my head. "Can you do something similar for Le Mans?" "Sure, but I know absolutely fuck-all about racing." "That's okay. Just write what you want." "Will do. But you're gonna need to edit my stuff. Probably censor it heavily." So here I am. I spent the last week trying to learn all I can about the sport of endurance racing. But there's only so much you can jam in your head. And I still don't understand any of the technical side. Might as well be astrophysics or something. While I rambled things were happening. Tracy Krohn spun into the gravel on the Forza chicane. #89 is out of the race after an accident I missed. Pegasus racing hit the wall on the Porsche curves. Bashed up front end, in the garage getting fixed. Toyota and Porsche are swapping back and forth in the front three. Ford back in the lead in GTE Pro. #91 Porsche took a stone through the radiator, down two laps. Not good. The wife and I are one of those weird childless couples that spend way too much time caring for the needs of their pet. French bulldog, Mr Eugene Victor Debs. Great little guy. Spent the last four years training him to be obedient and friendly. Nice thing about dogs, when you're sick of dealing with them you can just lock 'em in another room for a few hours. You don't need to worry about paying for college.