Tag Archives: Mecum

This 1966 Ford Bronco Was Built to Fly Over Sand, Not Crawl Over Rocks

Classic Ford Broncos are everywhere right now. They’re being reborn as six-figure restomods, lifted into Instagram-ready off-roaders, and polished into weekend cruisers that will never see a dirt road. But this 1966 example doesn’t care about any of that. It was never meant to crawl over boulders or idle through Cars and Coffee. This Bronco was built for one thing: going as fast as possible in a straight line across loose sand—and it looks like it still wants to do exactly that.

What makes this truck especially fascinating is that it didn’t start life as a normal Bronco at all. This was a pre-production model, later handed over to off-road legends Charlie Erickson and Bill Stroppe in the mid-1960s. Their goal wasn’t refinement or utility—it was domination. The result was a one-off sand drag racer that competed in desert events at a time when off-road racing was still being invented on the fly.

The first rule of racing is simple: add power and remove weight. This Bronco did both. Anything that didn’t make it faster was stripped off. Doors? Gone. Windows? Useless. Comfort? A luxury for people who aren’t trying to win. What remains is a skeletal, purposeful machine that looks more like a homemade missile than a vintage SUV.

Power comes from Ford’s humble 170-cubic-inch inline-six, but don’t let the displacement fool you. This one is force-fed by a Paxton supercharger and breathes through dual Stromberg two-barrel carburetors sitting on a custom intake manifold. Add revised intake and exhaust lobes, and you’ve got a recipe for a six-cylinder that’s working far harder than Ford ever intended. No one seems to know the exact output—and that somehow makes it even better. It’s paired with a modified three-speed manual, because of course it is.

The Bronco was fully restored in 2011, and Mecum notes that while its wild appearance was preserved, everything underneath was gone through properly. The suspension was revised, traction bars were added, and both axles now feature limited-slip differentials. Heavy-duty front shocks and custom 15-inch wheels help keep it pointed in the right direction, wrapped in Goodyear tires with hand-cut grooves specifically designed for sand.

And then there’s the braking system—or rather, the lack of one. In a move that perfectly captures the spirit of this machine, the front brakes were deleted entirely to save weight. In sand drag racing, slowing down is someone else’s problem. Preferably after the finish line. Hopefully on flat ground.

Inside, the Bronco is just as uncompromising. There’s a single bucket seat, a steering wheel, and a handful of gauges mounted into a wooden dash. That’s it. No insulation. No trim. No creature comforts of any kind. There aren’t even doors or windows, so driving it is less like piloting a truck and more like strapping yourself to a mechanical projectile. A helmet and goggles wouldn’t be overkill—they’d be smart.

Mecum will auction this Bronco on March 21, though no estimate has been released yet. Whatever it sells for, it won’t just be another classic SUV with a shiny paint job. It’s a rolling artifact from the wild early days of off-road racing, when builders made things up as they went along and weight reduction meant simply unbolting anything that looked unnecessary.

If you’re the kind of enthusiast who thinks doors, windows, and front brakes are optional, this Bronco isn’t just appealing—it’s perfect.

Source: Mecum Auctions

Auction Mayhem: When Classic Cars Become Combatants

Auctions are supposed to be thrilling arenas where collectors vie for pristine classics with the intensity of a Grand Prix start. But Mecum’s recent Dallas–Fort Worth sale proved that sometimes the excitement comes for all the wrong reasons. Picture this: a 1958 Willys pickup goes rogue, taking out at least three other collector cars in a single, catastrophic chain reaction.

Chain Reaction Chaos

Images from the sale tell a story no enthusiast wants to see. The Willys restomod ended up embedded in the side of a gorgeous 1966 C2 Corvette, turning what should have been a showcase of automotive elegance into a scene more reminiscent of a demolition derby. According to Reddit sleuth Zyncon, a driver’s foot may have slipped—possibly accelerating the Willys into the unfortunate C2. To make matters worse, at least one owner was reportedly nearby, forced to watch the calamity unfold.

Three people were taken to hospital following the crash, which also involved a 1977 Pontiac Firebird Trans Am and a 2019 C7 Corvette ZR1. Mecum has yet to provide full details on the incident, but questions about injuries, insurance, and just how badly these cars are hurt are hanging in the air like burnt rubber.

Damage Report

The Willys appears relatively unscathed—its nose crumpled but its 5.7-liter Chrysler Hemi and eight-speed automatic seemingly intact. The custom cab, extended by nearly nine inches, probably took the brunt of the embarrassment rather than structural damage.

The Corvette, however, looks like it was in a bar fight it never signed up for. Originally sporting a rare code-982 Mosport Green with a 350 hp L79 327 V8 and a four-speed manual, it’s now sporting unscheduled bodywork on both sides. The Trans Am and whichever unlucky C7 ZR1 got caught in the crossfire also suffered collateral damage, with low-mileage glory now meeting the harsh reality of metal and paint carnage.

Here’s the kicker: both Vettes and the Trans Am were reportedly sold before the Willys decided to go rogue. Meanwhile, the Willys itself didn’t sell—perhaps a jealous tantrum in automotive form.

A Painful Reminder

For collectors, the incident is a sobering lesson in how quickly an auction can go from sophisticated bidding to chaos on wheels. While enthusiasts debate the mechanics of the accident, one thing is certain: when classic cars collide, even the most carefully orchestrated sales can turn into unforgettable—and unfortunate—spectacle.

Source: Mecum

The Ferrari Time Capsule: Phil Bachman’s Legendary 48-Car Collection Heads to Auction

In January 2026, the automotive world will witness something that doesn’t happen twice in a lifetime: one of the rarest private Ferrari collections ever assembled will cross the block at Mecum Auctions. Forty-eight Ferraris—each one a jewel of Maranello’s history—are set to find new homes, marking the end of an era and the beginning of another.

For anyone who has ever dreamed of owning a low-mileage Italian thoroughbred, this is the stuff of dreams. The collection spans nearly seven decades of Ferrari’s evolution, from the 1950s to the 2010s, and reads like a love letter to the Prancing Horse itself.

This remarkable assembly was the life’s work of Phil Bachman, an American businessman who built his fortune through a network of dealerships representing brands as diverse as Pontiac, Cadillac, Nissan, and even DeLorean. Bachman passed away in August, leaving behind not just a business legacy, but one of the most meticulously curated Ferrari stables on Earth.

His obsession began in 1984, when he purchased his first Ferrari. From there, his passion evolved into a collection so deliberate, so perfectly preserved, that it borders on the surreal. These aren’t just Ferraris—they’re time capsules.

The oldest car in the collection, a 1953 Ferrari 166 MM/53 Vignale Spyder, shows just 37,306 kilometers. It’s joined by two masterpieces from the 1960s: a 250 GT/L Berlinetta Lusso and a 275 GTB/4 Alloy, both icons of balance and proportion that defined Ferrari’s golden age.

The 1970s chapter of Bachman’s story swells with 11 cars, including a 1975 365 GT4 BB that’s barely been driven—only 443 kilometers separate it from its factory debut.

By the 1980s, Bachman’s tastes had grown bolder, and his garage followed suit. A 1989 Testarossa, its odometer frozen at just 413 km, will no doubt ignite a bidding war. And then comes the transition from analog to digital—Ferrari’s entry into the modern supercar era.

Two Ferrari F40s headline the 1990s portion of the sale, both 1992 models painted in that quintessential Rosso Corsa red. One has 734 km, the other 1,392 km, and both are expected to fetch eye-watering sums. But the rarities keep coming: an F50 with just 404 km, an Enzo showing 1,038 km, and a pair of 360 Challenge Stradales with only a few hundred clicks on their clocks.

Perhaps the most striking example of Bachman’s singular vision is the only factory-painted yellow Ferrari FXX ever built—a track monster so unique it stands apart even in this company. It’s flanked by a matching 430 Scuderia and 16M Spider, both barely exercised.

The finale of this automotive symphony arrives with the 599 GTO (166 km), the 599 SA Aperta (277 km), and the ultimate duo: a LaFerrari Coupe (253 km) and an even rarer LaFerrari Aperta (154 km).

Together, they form an unbroken narrative of Ferrari’s relentless pursuit of speed, beauty, and engineering perfection. Every car is preserved in near-museum condition, a snapshot of the brand’s evolution—frozen in time but ready to roar once again.

In an age when most Ferraris are driven, traded, or tracked, Bachman’s collection stands as something different: an act of devotion. When the auctioneer’s gavel falls in January, the world won’t just be bidding on cars—it’ll be bidding on history.

Source: Mecum