Owner: John ‘Scott’ Erratt Text & photos: Clive Branson
An automobile icon of the 1970s, such as the Plymouth Roadrunner, was deconstructed to its primordial form to bring out the purity of the design. Imagine just the road and you. Whether it’s a long stretch of highway or a meandering ribbon of country road, step on the throttle and feel how the muscular, rumbling horsepower translates directly into a smile that creases your face. If passion is the freedom to live life as you choose, here is some passion worth living for. At least, this is the sensation John Scott Erratt experiences behind the wheel of his 1970 Plymouth Roadrunner.
“The car represents freedom to me,” states Scott. “Going down the road and looking up to see the sky or the moon and the stars, with the wind blowing all round you - it provides me an escape to get away from it all and to feel the freedom.
“The car is a piece of history, maybe a piece that I never experienced first hand; after all, I was only 12 when the car was introduced. It's part of our past culture that I am able to help maintain and breathe new life into.”
For Scott, the muscle car craze began from two sources, the first being his admiration for his older sister.
“My sister is 8 years older than me, and someone I always looked up to. She became a schoolteacher and drove a 1970 Plymouth Satellite ragtop. I loved that car, and when she drove me around I felt so cool; all my friends were envious. She stopped driving the car and parked it in the garage for a few years. One day, she asked me if I would like to have it, and I immediately grabbed the opportunity. I towed the car home and took it to the garage for a safety check. Unfortunately, it didn't pass. The whole undercarriage had been sitting on a ground floor for so long that it was rusted out and couldn't be repaired. I was heartbroken, but hoped one day I'd find one just like it. The other influence was from a couple of friends of mine who also had muscle cars. To hear those cars rumble down the street made the decision that much easier, that I needed to have one.”
It was in 1986 while browsing through Auto Trader magazine that Scott was seized by an image of a sea-blue Roadrunner convertible for sale. The previous owner had bought the car in 1983 and, with a bit of parry-and-thrust negotiations, Scott managed to seal a favourable deal for such an iconic car - particularly considering Plymouth made fewer than 900 of these models.
“I probably got a fair deal because when I saw the car, I don't think it was ever parked in a garage. The paint was faded badly and the quarter panels had Bondo filler on them. There was a leak inside the car when it rained, because the floor panel on the driver’s side had been replaced and the carpet was missing. The ragtop was still in great shape but had a few stains. The car had around 71,000 miles on the odometer, but being 16 years old, was it on the second time round? Who knows?”
The engine remains the original 383, but Scott changed it from a four-barrel to a two-barrel carburetor to conserve gas consumption.
“The hardest part to maintain is my wallet, due to the amount of gas this car guzzles. It always seems to be going towards empty; even with the two-barrel carburetor, it still drinks like a fish.
“The car it wasn't pretty when I bought it, so the first thing I had to do was to have work done on the frame back by the rear bumper. It was rusting and wouldn't pass the safety inspection without it. Having a young family, money wasn't available to fix up the car, especially when we had bought an old farmhouse and we were doing major renovations on it. But I did take the blue carpet out of one of the bedrooms and installed it into the car when we furnished new flooring. I kept that blue shag carpet in the car for quite a few years. I also had work done on the gas tank.”
For the next 20 years, things seemed to be normal, and the only things needing replacement were the usual suspects: the starter, the battery, wiper blades, fan belt, brakes, etc. Then one afternoon… “I took the car to a shopping mall and all of a sudden it chugged and died. I had no idea what was wrong. It would turn over but wouldn't fire up. A gentleman walked by and said, ‘I know exactly what's wrong with your car. I use to work on them. It's a vapour lock.’”
The man told Scott to get some ice and run it along the gas line from the filter to the carburetor, cool the line down, and then it should work.
“Well I did, and it did work! I got the car home, stopping every 5-10 miles to cool the gas line down. Why it just started doing that after all those years, I don't know. I called my garage and explained the problem and they suggested replacing the larger carburetor with a smaller one, so I switched the four-barrel for a two-barrel. It will use less gas and will solve the problem.”
It should come as no surprise that convertibles demand premium parts and, for an older model, that’s a challenge at best of times, especially when trying to scrounge around for NOS materials. That said, meeting the challenge to rebuild a car of this vintage is part of the process.
“In 2013 my daughter, Amber, came to me and asked if I would drive her to her wedding in the car. What father could say no to his daughter. So I did what any normal father would do - I got a body job done on the car. I still didn't have the cash to do a top rate job; besides, if I ever got a scratch on it after shelling out 15 to 20K, I would probably cry. So I got a decent body job on it for a decent price. I had the body man put black strips on the hood like I had seen on so many cars in magazines. I decided it needed the Mopar look and had decals of the dust swirl, from the side scoop to the front fender with the Road Runner bird, and the black strip along the trunk lid. The car was painted its original hue, B-7 Jamaican Blue, with a top clear coat. The car was beautiful and so was Amber.
“The following year, the interior needed some work. Fortunately money was a little freer, so I ordered blue with black panels with red pin stripes around the perimeters for the front and back seat covers. I also put red pin stripes on the hood - that really made it all come together.”
Scott then upgraded the front seat back plates, the kick plates and the armrests. “They were a bit ragged and sunburnt from overexposure. I ended up taking the sun visor off and taking it to a local hardware store that found a colour match. I painted those items with a small roller and you would never know the difference. It was now time to think about new rims; the old Cragar 500s were peeling their chrome and didn't match the look of the rest of the car. I found the style of rims I wanted - Mopar Ralley rims - and found a place in the States that had them. I didn’t realize how rare they are. Finally, about 10 months later, they arrived.”
Just when Scott thinks he’s ahead of the game, the car blows a left front tire, literally in shreds. So after obtaining new rubber, Scott can safely say the car is practically done.
“This summer, I was driving the car and it just stalled out. I couldn't remember the terminology “vapour lock,” but I tried to explain to the garage the best I could about the ice. They weren't really listening and gave me a new fuel filter. Driving again, the same thing happened. I stopped at one garage (actually the car stopped there for me) and a young mechanic said that he was only an apprentice and that his dad had just left. He couldn’t help. Getting it going with the old ice trick, I managed to limp home. So on to garage number two. They wouldn't touch it, but did recommend another garage that fixed older cars. So off I go; before I was able to explain the whole situation, their mechanic said the magic words: vapour lock. He had two solutions for me. One, to carry a bag of ice around at all times or, two, install an electronic fuel injector. So a fuel injector it was.
“The only thing I'd like to buy for the car now is a centre console. My car has bucket seats with no console in the middle. I had a line on one in an old ‘69 GTX that's been parked in a garage for years. I actually stopped in today to see about it, and was told that he sold the car over a year ago, but the guy has never stopped in to dig it out. These are some of the trials and tribulations to be expected when you own a car for 31 years, but to me I’m breathing in new life to a piece of history.
“I keep telling my wife, Lorilea, I'm going to trade the car in on a new Mustang or Camaro, ragtop of course, but I probably never will. My kids don't know how to drive a stick so I can't see giving it to them. Besides, it would not be fair for only one to get it.”
With that in mind, Scott considers the future of classic cars of his generation. “I believe the future for classic cars will only get stronger as time goes by, but it is going to be harder and harder for people to own these cars. Mine was appraised at $30,000 a few years ago; the ordinary guy with the ordinary job and a family won't be able buy these cars. It will only be the rich that will be able to keep this part of history alive. You'll no longer be able to find a hidden gem in an old barn on some country road.”
Scott’s ultimate dream would be to own a 2016 Plymouth Roadrunner concept car. “I've seen a few pictures on the Internet and it's a sharp looking machine. I’d like to own it because it's keeping with the Roadrunner name and no one else would have one, kind of like what I have now. You don't see too many other ‘70 Roadrunner ragtops at the local car shows. It's truly unique.”
But it all comes down to how the car makes you feel. “Lorilea calls my car a big boat, and it is big. It rides rough on rough roads and it has manual steering, but it does have power, more power than I'll ever need. I've never opened it up to see what it could do. I'm just satisfied cruising down the highway on those warm summer days or nights and feeling free!”
And what could be better than that?