Saturday morning, late 1963, at General Motors' Milford Proving Grounds. Bill Collins, an engineer in his forties, turns to his 39-year-old colleague and says with a smile, "You know, John, it would take about 20 minutes to put a 389 in there." In there, that was a harmless little Tempest parked in front of them. John DeLorean, because that's who we're talking about, looks at the car, then looks at Collins, and I think at that moment it occurred to him that this completely crazy idea might change the American automobile forever.

And you know what? He was right. Because those 20 minutes of work gave birth to the 1964 Pontiac GTO, the first true muscle car in history. And with it, a whole decade of pure madness began, a time when America literally drove machines on its roads.

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But before I tell you how Americans invented the very concept of the affordable sports car, I need to explain why this revolution was simply unthinkable at the time. In 1963, General Motors had an absolute golden rule: a strict ban on installing large engines in small cars. A rule made of reinforced concrete, non-negotiable.

Except that John DeLorean, that automotive engineering genius, didn't give a damn about the rules. So when Bill Collins suggested to him the idea of grafting a 389 cubic inch engine into a Tempest, DeLorean didn't see a technical problem . He saw a golden opportunity to circumvent his own company's prohibitions.

The Birth of a Myth: When Rebellion Meets Genius

And here I have to tell you how DeLorean pulled it off, because it's pure administrative genius. Rather than presenting his creation as a new car with a big engine —which was forbidden—he sold it as a simple "options package" on the existing Tempest. You see the thing? On paper, it was just a Tempest with a few extra options. In reality, it was a bomb on wheels.

The name? GTO, like the Ferrari 250 GTO. Yes, DeLorean had literally stolen the name from Ferrari, and frankly, he wasn't wrong. Because his GTO would revolutionize the American automobile industry, just as the Ferrari had revolutionized motorsports.

When the first GTO rolled off the assembly line in 1964, no one at GM expected the tidal wave that would follow. They hoped to sell 5,000 units. They sold more than 32,000 in the first year. Thirty-two thousand! It wasn't just a success, it was a social phenomenon.

The Domino Effect: When All of America Starts to Show Off

And that's when all the other American manufacturers thought, "Damn, we missed something." Because the GTO proved there was a huge market for fast, affordable cars. Cars that young Americans could afford, but that had the power of European sports cars.

Ford, Chrysler, even Chevrolet—which was part of the same group as Pontiac—all entered the race. And this is where it gets really interesting, because we're witnessing an open war between manufacturers. Each wanted to be more powerful, faster, more spectacular than the others.

Ford released the Mustang in 1964, Chevrolet responded with the Camaro in 1967, and Chrysler counterattacked with the Barracuda. And when I think about that period, I think we were really living in a crazy era. Imagine today if all the manufacturers were competing with each other for horsepower over cars costing 15,000 euros. That simply doesn't exist anymore.

Carroll Shelby: From Chicken Farm to Asphalt Legend

But in this muscle car story, there's one absolutely incredible character I have to tell you about: Carroll Shelby . And I swear, his career is pure American cinema.

Imagine a guy from Texas who starts raising chickens. His first batch earns him $5,000 in profit—not bad for the time. Except the second batch dies of disease and completely ruins him. Anyone else might have continued farming, but not Carroll. This bankruptcy pushed him into auto racing.

And here's where it gets really crazy. Carroll Shelby, the formerly broke chicken farmer, becomes a race car driver with a heart condition. I'm not kidding. He often raced with nitroglycerin pills under his tongue because of his heart problems. Can you imagine? Going 125 mph in a race car while managing a heart condition.

But what would make him a legend was when he stopped racing and became a manufacturer. In 1962, he had a brilliant idea: take an ultra-lightweight British chassis, the AC Ace, and stuff a huge American Ford V8 engine into it. The result? The AC Cobra, perhaps the most legendary muscle car of all time.

The Cobra: When David Meets Goliath

And you know what's crazy about Shelby's Cobra? It proves you can beat Ferrari and all the European manufacturers by simply combining two existing technologies. A lightweight English chassis plus a powerful American engine equals a car that humiliates everything on the road at the time.

Carroll Shelby also became the only man in history to win Le Mans as both a driver AND a constructor. Honestly, when you think about it, going from chicken farming to the pinnacle of world motorsport is perhaps the American dream in all its glory.

Well, while we're at it, I have a little break to take from this pure speed thing. Because all these legendary models I'm talking about—the GTO, the Cobra, the Mustang—they remind me exactly why I love miniature cars from this era.

It's just that these cars had a soul, you know? Each model had its own personality, its own unique character. And when I hold a little 1965 Mustang or a 1/43 scale 1964 GTO in my hands, I immediately find that whole era all at once.

That's why I opened my shop BernardMiniatures.fr. I have more than 1,500 miniatures in stock, mainly 1/43 scale, and I admit that I have a particular weakness for American muscle cars. Well, I'm not a big site, so I often only have one or two pieces of each model, but that's also what makes it charming.

I have some beautiful Mustangs, some gorgeous Camaros, some killer Dodge Chargers, and even a few Cobras if you look hard enough. Shipping is free for orders over €75 in France, and I make sure to wrap everything well with bubble wrap because these little beauties break easily.

Take a look at bernardminiatures.fr if you're interested - and you'll see, my miniature muscle cars are definitely worth a look.

Now, let's get back to our full-size cars , because we're coming to the craziest moment in this story: the end of the 60s, when the muscle car wars reached their peak.

1970: The Year of Pure Madness

If I had to pick one year that sums up all the muscle car madness, it would be 1970. That year, it was as if all the American automakers decided to say, "What if we just stopped messing around completely?"

Plymouth released the 'Cuda 440 Six Pack with 390 horsepower. Dodge responded with the Challenger R/T 440 Six Pack. Chevrolet countered with the Chevelle SS 454 LS6, which officially produced 450 horsepower—but everyone knew it actually produced much more. And then there was the Plymouth Road Runner, an absolutely brilliant car that deserved a closer look.

The Road Runner: The Genius of Automotive Marketing

Because the Road Runner story is probably the most cheeky marketing stunt in automotive history . The guys at Plymouth had an idea: create a truly affordable muscle car for young people. But rather than starting from scratch, they took a basic Belvedere and added only the parts normally reserved for police cars.

Heavy-duty brakes, police suspension, and the hood of the more expensive GTX. The development budget? $500. Yes, you heard that right, $500. But where they go completely crazy is paying Warner Bros. $50,000 for the rights to the cartoon character Road Runner.

And another $10,000 to develop a special horn that exactly replicates the cartoon's "beep beep." Can you imagine? They spent 100 times more on the horn and the cartoon rights than they did on developing the car itself!

Dick Macadam, the head of the design office, was furious that one of their cars was associated with a cartoon bird. Except that the public loved it. The Road Runner became a huge success.

The Decline: When the Party Ends Abruptly

But all good things must come to an end, and the end of muscle cars was particularly abrupt. Looking back, I think we've rarely seen an automotive movement come to a halt so abruptly.

1973. Oil crisis. Suddenly, gasoline becomes prohibitively expensive, and Americans discover that their 20-liter-per-100-kilometer (62.2 mpg) cars may no longer be very practical. But it's not just oil. There are also new anti-pollution standards coming into play, insurance rates skyrocketing for young muscle car drivers, and public opinion starting to suggest that driving at 200 km/h (124 mph) might not be very responsible.

In just a few years, it was all over. Manufacturers were abandoning their most powerful models one by one. Engines were throttled, performance plummeted, and muscle cars became "normal" cars.

I remember my uncle having a 1969 Camaro Z28. In 1975, he traded it in for a small Honda Civic because gas was too expensive. He told me about it years later, and I could see he still regretted it.

The TV massacre: when the Chargers fly... and crash

And then there was that crazy thing about the show "Scary as Hell" in the '80s. Remember the orange Dodge Charger that jumped over everything? Well, guess what, they destroyed over 300 1969 Dodge Chargers during filming. Three hundred! That's about one car per episode.

The jumps caused so much damage to the chassis that producers eventually used airplanes to fly over residential neighborhoods looking for Chargers to buy. For the record-breaking jump in the opening credits—82 feet long, 16 feet high—they had to put between 300 and 500 pounds of lead in the trunk to balance the weight of the engine.

When I think about it now, it's probably one of the biggest car wrecks in the history of television . Chargers that are now worth a fortune, destroyed on a mass-market basis for the needs of a series. It breaks my heart, frankly.

The Renaissance: When Legends Return

But the story doesn't end there. Because in the mid-2000s, something incredible happened. American manufacturers realized that an entire generation had grown up dreaming of their parents' muscle cars.

Ford released a new Mustang in 2005 that carried over all the aesthetic codes of the 1964 original . Dodge reintroduced the Challenger in 2008, and Chevrolet relaunched the Camaro in 2009. It was as if the American auto industry had decided to reconnect with its glorious past.

And you know what's crazy? These new muscle cars are technically better than anything that existed in the '60s and '70s. More powerful, more reliable, safer, less polluting. They've retained the soul of the originals while incorporating 40 years of technological progress.

A modern Mustang Shelby GT500 develops over 700 horsepower. Seven hundred! Engineers in the 1960s never imagined that such power would one day be possible in a production car.

Eternal legacy: more than a car, a symbol

But beyond the numbers and performance, what made muscle cars so magical was what they represented. For the baby boomer generation, these cars were symbols of freedom and rebellion. They embodied postwar American optimism, a time when anything seemed possible.

John DeLorean understood this from the start. He wasn't just selling a faster car. He was selling a dream, a lifestyle, a way of saying "I refuse normality." And Carroll Shelby, with his Cobras, took this concept even further by proving that you could beat the Europeans at their own game.

Today, when I pass an old GTO or a vintage Camaro Z28 on the street, I can't help but smile . Because these cars remind me of a time when the auto industry dared to take risks, when engineers like DeLorean could bend their own company's rules to create something exceptional.

American muscle cars are much more than a chapter in automotive history. They're a testament to a time when America truly drove the muscle, when power was accessible, and when manufacturers competed with horsepower to win the hearts of drivers.

And even though those days are long gone, the spirit of muscle cars lives on . Every time a manufacturer releases a car that's a little more powerful than necessary, every time an engineer bends the rules to create something exceptional, a little piece of the legacy of John DeLorean and Carroll Shelby is resurrected.

So the next time you hear the roar of an American V8, think back to that blessed time when 20 minutes of work in a Michigan garage changed the automobile forever. And smile to yourself as you think that it all started with this simple sentence: "You know, John, it would take about 20 minutes to put a 389 in there."