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Just the right Camaro can change your life

Not many people can say that their car directly motivated them into a career, but that's exactly the case for Adam Martin and his 1968 Chevrolet Camaro that he calls Lucy. Martin bought the pony car in primer when he was just 16, and it helped foster his profession in restoring classic cars. Beyond just being a very cool ride for a teenager, every change to Lucy was an opportunity to hone a new automotive skill for Martin. Whether figuring out how to paint a car or building the 454-cubic-inch (7.4-liter) big block V8, the Camaro offered a platform for experimentation. This latest episode of Petrolicious gets personal about the bond between man and machine for this 18-year ongoing project. And even if the story doesn't immediately grab you, Lucy has a great voice and can do a mean burnout. News Source: Petrolicious via YouTube Chevrolet Maintenance Ownership Coupe Performance Classics Videos petrolicious

Callaway debuts its new C7 Stingray at National Corvette Museum

Callaway showed off its first tuned version of the 2014 Corvette Stingray at the National Corvette Museum last week, giving the rampant enthusiasts of America's sports car a look at the roughly 620-horsepower, supercharged rocket.
Unlike the Corvette SC610 we showed you back in January, this Stingray packs a fair bit more oomph. Horsepower is only up ten ponies, but torque has jumped from 556 pound-feet to "at least" 600 pound-feet. Neither horsepower nor torque is official quite yet, although Callaway is expecting to know just what its creation can do once testing and validation is completed later this month.
The 6.2-liter, supercharged V8 now boasts a new, three-element intercooler, which Callaway claims only allowed the inlet air temperature to increase by ten degrees Fahrenheit during dyno runs. Previous designs saw a 35-degree-Fahrenheit jump. The exhaust system has also been fettled with, and now is even less restrictive.

Autoblog In Cuba: 1957 Chevy Bel Air Review

If you've been following the Autoblog In Cuba series, you may remember that my efforts to rent a car in the country were ultimately unsuccessful. Misinformation, bad planning, and a lack of rental car inventory conspired to disrupt my hoped-for driving adventure. I discovered in my week of exploration, however, that the terrific thing about Havana is that there's always another adventure to be found – if you're willing to look. A car I could drive myself might have been impossible to come by, but a ride to remember was not. After all, even when reviewing a new car, I've found that impressions about the car and the route can be credibly formed from the right seat. Starting from the parking lot of the grand Hotel Nacional, finding an interesting car for hire is as simple as walking up and down the block. Scads of classic American iron wait just outside the hotel gates, in a riot of colors and conditions befitting the tropical climate. Fords from the 1940s are plentiful – more sedans than coupes – and the glory days of General Motors are represented by enough Pontiacs and Cadillacs to fill a Bruce Springsteen B-sides album. But the Chevy Bel Air is the king of the road here, by some margin. View 30 Photos I settled on a burnt orange 1957 Chevy Bel Air convertible, in tourist-appropriate condition. I was looking for a hardtop at the request of my crew's audio/video needs, but settled on a burnt orange 1957 Chevy Bel Air convertible, in tourist-appropriate condition. This car might look good as a prop in the background on your vacation photos – hair blowing in the breeze with the ocean at your back, parked in front of Che's face in Revolution Square, etc. – but was far from pristine on a closer inspection. A perfect representative of the Cuban average. At least the price was right: $50 for two hours to make it 12 miles to Hemingway's house, and back. My driver was a kid named Daniel who looked to be about 20 years old. The Chevy doesn't belong to him, he co-drives it with the owner, but he was able to give me the basic mechanical rundown. The eight- or six-cylinder engine that Chevy shipped this convertible with was long gone. No surprise there, as nearly every American-made car I'd ridden in so far was powered by some belching Mercedes diesel. Despite it's clattering note, Daniel said the lump under the hood of the '57 drinks gas: a four-cylinder of Russian origins, pulled out of a GAZ Volga as best I can understand.