Wide Track: Bunkie Knudsen, Pete Estes, and the Pontiac Renaissance

1958 Pontiac Bonneville engine © 2010 Aaron Severson
When Pontiac introduced its OHV V8 in 1955, it displaced 287 cu. in. (4,706 cc). In 1956, it was bored to 317 cu. in. (5,188 cc); in 1957, it was stroked to 347 cu. in. (5,687 cc). The 1958 version, seen here in a 1958 Bonneville, was bored again, this time to 370 cu. in. (6,054 cc). The following year, it was stroked to 389 cu. in. (6,372 cc), where it remained through 1966. In the sixties and seventies, there were also 421 cu. in. (6,902 cc), 428 cu. in. (7,008 cc), and 455 cu. in. (7,481 cc, actually 457 cu. in.) versions, as well as de-bored 326/336 cu. in. (5,340/5,521 cc) and 350 cu. in. (5,798 cc, actually 354 cu. in.) iterations for the Tempest/Le Mans. Unlike Chevrolet, Oldsmobile, and Buick, which had separate small-block and big-block engines, all Pontiac V8s were essentially the same engine, although the 421/428/455 versions had a unique crankshaft.

On most American OHV V8s of that era, the pushrods actuated the valves via stamped-steel rocker arms, which were usually pivoted on a rocker shaft in each cylinder head. That arrangement worked well enough, but the rocker shafts added cost, weight, and bulk (even more so on engines like Chrysler’s FirePower V8, whose hemispherical combustion chambers and widely splayed valves required two rocker shafts for each head). In the late forties, Pontiac engineer Clayton Leach developed a much simpler alternative: carrying each rocker arm not on a shaft, but rather on a simple ball pivot, mounted on a pressed-in steel stud incorporating an integral oil passage for lubrication and using the rocker’s contact with the valve stem to locate the rocker arm laterally. Development testing soon demonstrated that this approach was just as durable as a rocker shaft and substantially cheaper to build.

The ball-pivot layout will be immediately familiar to anyone who’s ever worked on a small-block Chevrolet engine, which was not coincidental. When Chevrolet chief engineer Ed Cole learned of Leach’s valvegear design, he asked for and received permission to incorporate it on Chevrolet’s own V8. Ordinarily, contemporary GM policy allowed each division a year of exclusivity on such inventions, but Cole got his way, perhaps because the potential cost savings were too substantial to ignore. Unfortunately for Pontiac, the Chevrolet engine, also launched in 1955, overshadowed the new Pontiac V8 and not many people were aware that the valvegear design was actually Pontiac’s, not Chevrolet’s. (As a side note for those more accustomed to GM’s modern “corporate” engines, we should emphasize that other than the rocker studs, the Pontiac and Chevrolet V8s had very little in common; they were not the same engine!)

In its initial form, the new Pontiac engine displaced 287 cu. in. (4,706 cc). It was rated at 173 gross horsepower (129 kW) with stick shift, 180 hp (134 kW) with automatic; an optional four-barrel carburetor and dual exhausts raised that output to 200 hp (149 kW). All these figures were healthy increases against the outgoing, 268 cu. in. (4,398 cc) straight eight, which made no more than 127 hp (95 kW), and somewhat better than the output of the new Chevrolet V8.

The V8 was now Pontiac’s only engine. Critchfield originally planned to retain the old flathead six for base models, but sales of six-cylinder Pontiacs had been slow for the past few years and the V8 seemed the way of the future, so the six was dropped shortly before launch. If nothing else, making the V8 standard gave Pontiac another modest advantage over Chevrolet.

1955 Pontiac Star Chief convertible front 3q © 2008 Aaron Severson
The Star Chief was introduced in 1954 as Pontiac’s top-of-the-line model. It rode a 124-inch (3,150mm) wheelbase — 2 inches (51 mm) longer than the Chieftain’s — and had a 5-inch (127mm) longer tail. With the standard engine and Hydra-Matic, it could do 0-60 mph (0-97 km/h) in around 13 seconds, with a top speed of perhaps 103-104 mph (166-167 km/h).

The V8 was accompanied by completely new styling, initiated by Pontiac chief stylist Raoul Pepin in 1951 and completed under the supervision of Paul Gillan, who replaced Pepin in early 1953. The new body, again shared with Chevrolet, abandoned its predecessor’s bulbous hood, making the 1955 look both longer and wider. To reinforce its position in GM’s brand hierarchy, it had the obligatory slathering of brightwork, including Pontiac’s customary Silver Streaks, now separated into two parallel chrome strips across the hood and decklid. Some wags compared it to a fat man wearing suspenders, but in all, the 1955 Pontiac looked much more modern than before.

THE OLD MAN’S CAR

The 1955 model year set new records for the American auto industry. Thanks to a combination of appealing new designs, overproduction, and aggressive salesmanship, Detroit sold 7.2 million cars in 1955, writing so many long-term auto loans that the Federal Reserve Board moved to raise interest rates. Pontiac had its best year ever, with sales that were nearly double those of 1954. Its market share reached a new high, almost 7.5%.

1955 Pontiac Star Chief convertible rear 3q © 2008 Aaron Severson
The Pontiac Star Chief’s longer tail was intended to give it added prestige; bigger-is-better was still an axiom of American car design in this era. The extended tail does provide some extra trunk space, but the longer rear overhang tends to scrape on steep driveways. The extra size, however, served to convey its status in the line-up: The Star Chief convertible was the most expensive 1955 Pontiac.

Unfortunately for Bob Critchfield, the boom couldn’t last. With an oversaturated market and tighter consumer credit, auto sales plummeted. Pontiac’s volume and market share promptly sank by almost 25%. Most automakers were down, but Pontiac’s sales dropped off more than either Oldsmobile or Buick, which now outsold Pontiac by more than 220,000 units despite higher prices.

General sales manager Howard Crawford concluded that Pontiac’s main problem was a lack of image. In the public’s mind, the archetypal Pontiac buyer was a middle-aged high school principal or the night manager of a local bank — highly respectable, to be sure, not exactly aspirational figures for younger buyers. Like its traditional rival, Dodge, Pontiac had become thoroughly stodgy.

1957 Pontiac Safari wagon rear 3q © 2009 Aaron Severson
The Pontiac Safari wagon was introduced in 1955. At first, it was Pontiac’s equivalent of the flashy Chevrolet Bel Air Nomad, available only in two-door form. It was technically part of the Star Chief series, although it rode the 122-inch (3,099mm) wheelbase of the Chieftain. In 1957, the Safari name was applied to all Pontiac wagons, a tradition that continued until 1981.

Critchfield made tentative moves to redress that image problem, running two Pontiacs at the Daytona Speed Week in February 1956 and authorizing the development of more powerful engines. However, the division’s sales erosion showed no signs of improving and its return on investment was much lower than Buick’s or Oldsmobile’s. For a while, there was talk of shuttering Pontiac as a separate division and demoting it to a cheaper companion model for Oldsmobile.

As the 1956 model year wound down, GM management decided it was time for new blood. In May, Critchfield was promoted to run the corporation’s Process Development Section. On June 1, Bunkie Knudsen replaced him as vice president and general manager of Pontiac.

BUNKIE KNUDSEN COMETH

Semon Knudsen — better known as “Bunkie,” a boyhood nickname — was 43 years old when he took over Pontiac, the youngest general manager in GM’s history to that point. His father, William “Big Bill” Knudsen, had left Ford in 1921 to run Chevrolet and by 1937 had risen to become president of General Motors.

Inevitably, Bunkie’s interest in cars started early. When he was 14, his father gave him a disassembled new Chevrolet, challenging the boy to put it together before he could drive it. Bunkie received his engineering degree from MIT in 1936 and joined Pontiac as a tool engineer in 1939. He went on to work at various GM divisions, including Process Development, Allison, and finally Detroit Diesel, of which he became general manager in early 1955. If Bunkie Knudsen was not quite Detroit aristocracy in the manner of Henry Ford II, he was as close to it as GM’s corporate culture would permit.

1957 Pontiac Star Chief Custom Catalina dashboard © 2009 Aaron Severson
This 1957 Pontiac Star Chief, like most fifties Pontiacs, has Hydra-Matic, a $231 option. This is the new dual-coupling Hydra-Matic, which Pontiac dubbed Strato-Flight. It generally worked well, but was quite heavy (240 lb/109 kg), extremely complex, and expensive to produce. Pontiac Star Chiefs and Bonnevilles retained the dual-coupling Hydra-Matic through the 1964 model year, but lesser models substituted the cheaper Roto Hydra-Matic in 1961.

Around the time Knudsen became head of Pontiac, chief engineer George Delaney applied for early retirement. To replace him, Knudsen recruited Elliot M. (Pete) Estes, assistant chief motor engineer of Oldsmobile. Estes was reluctant — Oldsmobile was doing very well and it was common knowledge throughout GM that Pontiac was not — but Knudsen convinced him to look at it as a challenge. Knudsen made a similar pitch to Packard engineer John Z. DeLorean, who joined Pontiac in the new position of director of advanced engineering. Estes and DeLorean were even younger than Knudsen; Estes was 40 in 1956, DeLorean 31.

When Knudsen arrived, the 1957 Pontiacs were only a month away from pilot production, but he wanted to make a visible statement that the division was under new management. The day after he arrived, he ordered the removal of the 1957 cars’ “Silver Streak” trim, which required last-minute tooling changes to both the hood and decklid. It was a minor change, but it had a tremendous impact on Pontiac staff, if not the public. The Silver Streaks had been a Pontiac trademark for more than 20 years and removing them was akin to taking the twin kidney grilles off a BMW.

1957 Pontiac Star Chief Custom Catalina front 3q © 2009 Aaron Severson
The 1957 Pontiac Star Chief Custom Catalina traded its Silver Streaks for a rocket-like side spear. The “Catalina” designation was originally Pontiac’s term for pillarless hardtops; it became a model series in 1959. The 1957 Star Chief came standard with the four-barrel version of the 347 cu. in. (5,687 cc) V8 with 270 gross horsepower (201 kW); two Tri-Power engines were optional, with 290 or 317 hp (216 or 236 kW) respectively.

Unlike Critchfield, Bunkie Knudsen loved cars and was eager to improve the product. He would often wander through Pontiac’s offices and studios, usually with Estes and DeLorean in tow, taking a keen interest in new design studies and engineering concepts. Knudsen didn’t waste a lot of time in study groups or committees; if he liked something he saw, he would tell his staff to run with it. Many Pontiac executives considered him a breath of fresh air and his presence provided a considerable boost to the general morale.

DARKEST BEFORE THE DAWN

That improved morale was fortunate because 1957 and 1958 were terrible years for Pontiac sales. Despite new gimmicks like Tri-Power carburetion (an idea Pete Estes brought with him from Oldsmobile) and the limited-production Bonneville convertible, Pontiac’s 1957 volume was down more than 80,000 units from its already-discouraging 1956 total. Its market share tumbled alarmingly to 5.3%. The following year was even worse, with market share falling under 5% for the first time since the Depression.

1957 Pontiac Star Chief Custom Catalina rear 3q © 2009 Aaron Severson
The 1957 Pontiac Star Chief was 207 inches (5,258 mm) long on a 124-inch (3,150mm) wheelbase and weighed 4,270 lb (1,937 kg) with power steering, power brakes, and Hydra-Matic.

24 Comments

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  1. Great, informative article, as usual…but, the last page needs reformating as text is cut off on the right.

    1. Okay, I figured out the problem. It appears to be fixed in both Firefox and IE, although you might have to clear your temporary internet files to get it to reload properly.

  2. As the longtime owner (1974-91) of a ’66 Bonneville convertible, I think you should have mentioned that the 1965 redesign increased the proportions of the larger full-size cars (i.e., the Star Chief and Bonneville series except for the Safari wagons) to about those of 1959-60: Mine had a 124-inch wheelbase and a total length of 222 inches.

    (Also, the ’66 in the photo has the BONNEVILLE grille lettering much to close to the center of the car for some reason; the first photo returned by a Google Images search of “1966 bonneville” shows the correct placement.)

    Thanks for all the detail about the pre-Wide Track period, as well as the reference list.

    1. That’s a reasonable note. I had wanted to mention the larger dimensions, but there wasn’t an easy way to include it in the text; I added it to the caption.

      I have no explanation of the offset grille lettering on the red Bonneville. Maybe it was missing when the owner got the car, and he or she wasn’t sure exactly where it was supposed to go — I don’t know.

    2. To say that there was no reason for Pontiac’s existence is a very shallow statement. The Pontiac Motor division of General Motors designed and built some of the most Iconic car of the 20th Century. There contribution to both Stock Car Racing and drag racing was no small accomplishment. The beautiful full size cars of the late 50s and all through the 60s were some of the most beautiful cars ever sold by GM. The Pontiac was a step up for blue collar workers who couldn’t afford a Buick or Cadillac. And all this is not to mention such popular Icons as the GTO or Fire Bird (Trans Am). Give me a Break!

      1. “Shallow” is an interesting choice of words in this context because, without wanting to seem more than usually argumentative, the qualities that distinguished a Pontiac from a Chevrolet or an Oldsmobile were exactly that. Badge prestige is always an ephemeral quality, especially in the narrow realm of the GM brand ladder, and so are styling and the mechanical advantages, if any, a Pontiac had over its contemporary Chevrolet rival. Ephemeral doesn’t mean it doesn’t count — obviously, people will go to some trouble and expense to get their car or their phone in a particular color, so it has a definable value — but it is a question of degree or taste rather than something you can point to and say, “This is clearly better than that.”

  3. First off, another interesing article.

    However I am still having the problem with the text formatting on the last page. I read your articles on my iPhone so I thought it was just the iPhone. It formats correctly on my iPad. I have had the same problem with some other recent articles, always on the last page. But I keep coming back anyway.

    Oh, and in the photo caption where you detail the expansion on Pontiac’s V8 there is some apparently unintended repetititon.

    1. Thanks for the tip on the photo caption — fixed.

      My apologizes for the formatting problem. What appears to be happening is that certain browsers are objecting to the text links; some browsers refuse to wrap text that looks like a link, which is breaking the margin. I managed to fix it in IE, and I tinkered with it a little more just now, but the smaller window of mobile phone browsers may still present problems. I just found out about this last night, so I haven’t had a chance to address it in previous articles.

  4. Nice article. One question – I had always heard that the X-frame was pretty stiff. Given that GM sold large numbers of four-door hardtops, I would think that a willowy frame would have allowed those bodies to quickly twist themselves apart.

    The big problem with the X-frame was lack of side-impact protection. I’ve seen Ford ads from 1961 comparing the full-size Ford frame with the X-frame (without ever mentioning Chevrolet or GM) to make an obvious point regarding safety.

    What is interesting about Pontiac is that, after about 1963 or so, it achieved success in spite of, not because of, GM’s top management. GM’s executive team fought Pontiac management on several key issues, even as the division was setting sales records and had a great reputation. In some respects, Pontiac was the BMW of the 1960s, in terms of image and the demographics of customers who bought the cars.

    1. The X-frame itself was relatively stiff — not quite as stiff as a full ladder frame with X-member, but stiffer than the later perimeter frames. The big problem was that it didn’t do a very good job of preventing the body itself from twisting, which a big hardtop generally does very readily.

      Pontiac’s [i]pitch[/i] in the sixties was very similar to the one BMW adopted later, and when Pontiac returned to that message in the eighties and nineties, they positioned themselves pretty deliberately as the poor man’s BMW. Pontiac’s [i]demographics[/i] were not that much like BMW’s; they skewed a good deal younger. Both were selling sportiness, but a lot of customers bought BMWs because they were expensive and prestigious, much more so than with Pontiac.

      The late fifties really marked the beginning of GM’s efforts to exert tighter corporate control on the divisions. The senior compacts were really the first salvo, and I think the corporation was frustrated that those cars ended up having so little in common. Senior management kept pushing for more commonality, and more control over divisional operations. One of my sources said that in 1960, a general manager might have to meet with senior management once a month to check in; in 1969, they had to attend corporate meetings at least once or twice a week.

      Even in the early fifties, GM senior management lived in mortal fear of the feds. Their primary fear was the anti-trust division of the Justice Department — they were terrified of being split up, or being forced to spin off Chevrolet — but they also feared federal regulation. There were already growing safety and emissions lobbies in the early sixties, even before Ralph Nader, and GM was afraid of doing anything that might appear provocative or irresponsible. Pontiac’s success put them in an awkward position. They were pleased about the increased sales, but some senior executives felt that Pontiac was putting the whole corporation at risk with childish stunts. They kept wishing there was a way to maintain the sales while taking a quieter, more dignified, less provocative approach.

  5. Were the wide track cars actually made up of wider axles and front suspensions. I remember pontiac wheels had a deeper dish than chevy wheels, but would bolt right on an impala to make it a wide track, too.

    1. I’ve never compared the axle tube length of a ’59 Pontiac to a ’59 Chevrolet, but I believe the reason for the deeper-dish wheels was to accommodate the bigger brake drums; Pontiac expanded the width of its drums by an inch in 1959. The wheels probably accounted for a portion of the track increase, but I don’t think all of it. Keep in mind that both front and rear track width increased about 5 inches from 1958.

      1. The whole axle assy. is different than the Chevy. The housing is larger and the third member is bigger with it’s ring gear at 9.3 inches it shares with Oldsmobile. The axle assy. is a three link attachment When the 61-62 model Pontiac came out and being downsized in length as well as width the axels were shortened, but the third member remained the same. 1961-62 along with 63-64 are four link attachments. 59-60 cars have a rear track of 64 inches. The downsized 61-62 Pontiac’s rear track is 62.5 inches. 1963-63 Pontiac’s return to 64 inches.
        Going back, the 57 is the beginning of this large 9.3″ third member, but the 57 has a 27 spline axle and a narrow 58″ track. The 58 cars get a 58″ track but the axels are now 32 splines and for the first time Safety Track was offered. So, the 58-1964 third members are interchangeable.
        As far as track increases we have 1958 at 58 inches front and rear. 1959 has front at 63 7/8″ rear at 64″. 1960 front at 64″ rear 64″. 1961-62 at front and rear both at 62.5 ” and 63-64 cars at 64″ front and rear track.

  6. A full ten inches shorter in 1961. That’s amazing.

    I’ve always wished I could have been alive in 1960-61 when American car design rationalized so quickly and completely. Probably nothing demonstrated the shift more completely than the Lincoln Continental.

    Imagine how the new cars looked on roadways still full of fins, chrome, and two- (and three-) toned leviathans.

    1. Well, aside from Harley Earl, who was on his way out or gone when the 1961 cars were designed, I think a lot of American stylists regarded the fins, chrome frosting, and jukebox excess with varying levels of disgust and had gone that way mainly because the sales and marketing people had insisted that’s what the public wanted. The recession and generally dismal sales of 1958 gave the naysayers the leverage to steer things in a different direction. (“If that was what people wanted before, it sure isn’t now.”) Had the ’58 cars sold really well, the shift probably would have taken a little longer, but it probably helped that the stylists were very willing, even eager, to tidy things up aesthetically.

  7. Understood; however my impression is that at the time fashion ruled supreme and a change was in the offing no matter what the status quo was. Just as with clothing fashion–whatever’s in style now will be out of style tomorrow. Fascinating topic though! Fords were totally changed every year from 1956 through 1961 IIRC. Chevies just one year behind (their 59 and 60 were similar)..

    1. While designers do have to be cognizant of fashion trends, it’s also important to remember that the logistics of automotive production mean that stylists are always working about three years ahead, so they also need to anticipate and to some extent dictate public tastes. (The gap is sometimes shorter than three years — as discussed elsewhere, the ’59 GM cars were redone very hastily in mid-1956 in reaction to the not-yet-released ’57 Chryslers — but three years was the norm and anything shorter than that was both difficult and expensive.) Occasionally, the stylists are caught off guard, which is what happened with the Pontiac split grille: The 1960 grille was designed, signed off on, and handed off to production engineering before the ’59s went on sale.

      This is why the sales force was often able to push for more chrome, bigger fins, etc. — since the automaker was trying to look three years ahead, a lot came down to the sale organization’s professional judgment about what they thought would sell.

      The general pattern for mass-market American cars of this period was to retain the same basic body shell for two or three at a time with a visible but structurally superficial restyling every year. Again, there were exceptions to that; for example, Chrysler’s big Imperial retained the same shell for longer while GM’s ’58 cars were a one-year body. The latter was very expensive and was again dictated by the last-minute redesigns of the ’59 cars (which were originally supposed to be facelifts of the ’58 shell).

      Non-U.S. and later cars tended to have longer life cycles in part because development costs in general have gone up and in part because unitized construction costs more to tool and thus requires a longer amortization period.

  8. Oh and Harley Earl gets my vote as most overrated designer ever. I prefer Virgil Exner…and Giugiaro…

    1. It’s important to keep in mind that by the fifties, Earl was not a designer in any active sense and hadn’t been for many years. He was a corporate vice president responsible for a bunch of different individual studios and a staff that I think was bigger than all the design staffs of all the other contemporary American automakers put together. His role in the design process at that point was that of a high-level manager who comes in periodically to demand a little more of this and a little less of that or warn that he didn’t want to see a particular rendering ever again. He was like a movie producer as opposed to a director, an actor, or a composer: You would rarely seen any specific element that he personally contributed and the average viewer wouldn’t necessarily know what he did, but he nonetheless bore overall responsibility for what got made and what didn’t.

      Virgil Exner Sr. eventually took on a comparable level of responsibility at Chrysler, but I think Exner retained had a more hands-on role (insofar as his health permitted) and Chrysler’s design staff was considerably smaller than GM’s. (The thing to remember when looking at GM in its heyday was that it was HUGE — as you went up the ranks, your scope of responsibility could expand from “managing a dozen or so people in a department” to running an operation the size of a small city.)

      Style is by definition an ephemeral and transitory phenomenon. Every designer whose career isn’t cut unnaturally short for some reason has their share of hits and misses, some of which really only make sense in the context of their time.

      Harley Earl’s lasting contribution, and what makes him stand out from his peers, is that he carved out a place for styling and the creative process in a corporate industry dominated by engineers (before the war), accountants, and (later) MBAs, most of whom are thoroughly convinced that any business operation can ultimately be reduced to a series of mathematical operations. Earl managed to outmaneuver, intimidate, and dazzle those people with a combination of politicking, showmanship, and consistent sales success. He made them recognize that what his staff did had value and that for best results, the bookkeepers, the engineers, and the efficiency experts needed to keep their hands off the process. That’s a pretty remarkable achievement considering that he was originally hired on a short-term consulting contract!

      Earl established the automotive styling *organization* and for better or worse the products of that organization set the standard for about 50 years. While you can point to various specific examples where a rival beat GM to the punch with a specific feature or did better with a particular theme, they were responding to or hoping to put one over on GM designs. That was due in no small part to the fact that a great many of the American stylists of that period who went on to work elsewhere (including Virgil Exner or Frank Hershey) were veterans of the GM styling organization and carried that model with them.

      So, while one could argue that the designs of, say, Bob Gregorie working with Edsel Ford were more tasteful or better realized, Harley Earl remains THE figure of American design. You might love him, you might hate him (and I think people who worked for him felt both, depending on the day), you might think him overrated, but he’s really difficult to ignore.

      1. That you can come up with such reasoned, comprehensive, captivating–and above all well-written–replies virtually in real time sort of blows my mind. Just discovered your site last night but I can see I’ll be spending a lot of time here!

  9. You state that the 1957 Bonneville was only available as a convertible. It is my recollection that fuel injection was available in 1957 on the Bonneville convertible (my friend had one, silver with silver leather interior) and on (of all things) their station wagon, which was probably a Safari but a Bonneville by a different name. So although the Bonneville model was only available as a convertible, in essence you could get the equivalent in a station wagon, but it carried the Safari name (the mid-50’s Safaris were 2-door and every bit as stylish as the Chevrolet Nomads as they were essentially the same car). And the 1959 Safari in Sunset Glow with matching tri-color interior was absolutely stunning, for a station wagon!

    1. In 1955 the Safari was a short wheelbase wagon with StarChief trim appointments, and leather seated interior just like the StarChief.
      This carried over for 1956 and 57, although late in the 1957 season a new wagon was added with all the appointments of the two door safari, it was called the Trans Continental.
      The 57 Bonneville was only a convertible and all were fuel injected.
      No other 1957 Pontiac model Pontiac could be ordered with fuel injection.
      In 1958 Fuel Injection could be ordered on any Pontiac for the sum of around $500.00

  10. An excellent and well written read. It would be great to have included a little more content of the 70’s but still very interesting.

  11. As the second owner, my father was the original owner of a S/O 59 Catalina sport coupe, my dad ordered a 345 hp tri-power engine with a heavy duty Supra HydraMatic 4 speed with three gear sets.
    Most people who have 1959 or 60 Pontiac’s that were ordered with Tri-Power received the 315HP for 59 or the 318hp for 1960. The difference is in the bottom end of the engine ( 4 bolt mains oil pump etc. and the cam plus the cylinder heads.
    Our car was ordered from the zone office, and most dealers didn’t know about a 330 hp four barrel (NASCAR) engine or the 345HP Tri-Power engine used for NHRA drag racing.
    When we picked up the car at a dealer my dad chose and did the walk around. We found in the trunk the two third members for drag racing we had ordered, but also a solid lifter cam and lifters to make the engine a 345HP car. You see in those days unlike Chevrolet, Pontiac could not sell a car with a solid lifter cam and warranty the car. The cam that was in the engine was the original Hydro cam #886 that was first used in the 285hp dual quad 1956 317″ engine.
    FYI this Catalina, while ordered out of the L.A. zone office was not built in the South Gate Plant. The car was built in Mi. and railed to the west coast because the engine was hand built and balanced in the Pontiac tool room like all NASCAR engines were.

    FYI, the 1959 389″ 2bbl@ 280hp, the 389″ 4BBL @ 300hp and the 389″ Tri-power @ 315HP all used the very good #472 Hydraulic cam. In the 1960 engine the same cam was used but the HP increased on all three engines by 3HP and this was due to a bump in compression by .25. All these hydraulic cam engines above are for the HydraMatic cars.

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