I came across this article entitled "The Last,Best Camaro" from Chevy High Performance. Since I seem to be on a nostalgia kick these days, just trying to find information on the cars we all love, I thought I would pass this on. Here is the link where you can read about this car http://www.chevyhiperformance.com/fe...sun/index.html
Here is the edited text of the article without pictures....I found everything a bit difficult to read off the link. There are a lot of good pictures on the link though that you may want to look at.
It's steamy, hot August outside. The sweat is still rolling down my ribs as Mark Ruess (executive director, Performance Division) and I clack through the warrens of Warren in the GM Design Center, straight off Mound Road. After we'd jawed for a few minutes, he'd grabbed me for a look-see down in the basement. Along the way, I spotted the skeletal SS sedan that would be introduced at the Detroit Show six months hence. Cool. "What's up, now?" I thought, as Ruess said hellos to passing cohorts and acquaintances.
Then I hear the sound of many voices, a hubbub, dozens milling about and chatting. It's a celebration and I'm the mystery guest. A pair of visions bookend this nether room. F-bodies: a dark blue Camaro, the incarnation of Mark Donohue's Penske No. 6 and a blue-stripe-over-pearl-white Firebird, the original '70 Trans Am alter ego. I shake hands all around and am quickly invited into the driver seat of No. 6. "Go ahead, push the starter button," I hear behind me. The 427 whirs for a second. A double-barreled .12-gauge explodes the basement room. Walls shatter. Scares the hell out of me. Grins all around. They done good, real good. An hour later, the car is out on Woodward, John Heinricy at the wheel, astounding the locals (hopefully under the auspices of the cops), burning up and down the road like he was a god.
In the months that follow, I don't see more than crumbs written about these apparitions. It's like they don't exist. Traps stay shut. Eyes stay closed. The niche books turn away. Even Hot Rod makes like they're radioactive.
Fast forward. It's April '03. I'm at a GM squeal and Heinricy's there. I ask him: "John, what ever happened to the Woodward cars? Are they still around?" "They shoulda been crushed a while ago, but they weren't. Now we're taking 'em on Power Tour and that may be the end of 'em."
"Could we, say, ignite Mississippi for a day in No. 6? Would that be asking too much?"
"Probably. They've never been fully calibrated, but I'm sure you could vent in it for a little while."
So now it's Power Tour and we're hoping to tromp the bejeezus out of No. 6 for posterity . . . and to satisfy a blood lust. Once this Camaro drops off the radar, it's highly unlikely there will ever be another from the collective who built it in just a matter of weeks. The hook for this project was to make it an in-house job, a common-good project leveled between GM Powertrain, GM Performance Parts, and the GM Design Center. According to Ruess, it was a labor of love: "We wanted to start building employee enthusiasm with our division partners, and I think these were two perfect cars to help achieve that goal." The way the throng had whooped when I hit the red button, I'm sure the exercise was a wholesome, if not dizzying, experience.
Beyond its edgy (perhaps a bit overdone), no-BS appearance, this ultimate F-Body was endowed with a bored and stroked C5-R race block that displaces 427 ci. Induction formalities begin with the fabricated plenum chamber atop isolated runners. Output is 580 hp; torque is 575 lb-ft. One of No. 6's main attractions is its NASCAR-like side exhaust, the collector of which flairs wide and long--the terminus of long-tube headers with primaries that begin at 13/4 inches and step up to 17/8 inches. A merge collector necks it down to 13/4 then 11/2 inches. Torque passes through a custom T56 transmission spaced at 2.29:1, 1.61:1, 1.22:1, 1.00:1, 0.80:1 and 0.54:1. The 4.56:1 gears in the 12-bolt axle augment that shallow low-gear ratio. Drivetrain moxie flourishes in the 30-spline axleshafts and the F-car aluminum driveshaft.
To stand behind its notorious countenance, the chassis is augmented with 1LE show-room-stock suspension pieces, three-way adjustable dampers, and tubular upper control arms. Stock ZO6 calipers manage the slotted and cross-drilled Corvette front rotors; the rear units are stock F-Car with the same rotor modifications. All of it is readily available from the parts bin. What really sets this Camaro apart is its focal point: big tire and wheels and the bodywork required to tuck it neatly beneath. The mammoth 18-inch 315/30 and 335/30 ZR-rated rubber is on 11- and 12-inch Fikse Profil 13 modular rims and stretches track width by 1.3 inches in front and 2.8 inches in the rear. But notice also how well it conforms to the contours of the skin. All that reworked bodywork is ferrous metal and includes the front and rear fasciae, hood, the rear quarters, as well as the front and rear spoiler. So it looks as God intended.
But there are caveats. Old No. 6 is a Spartan sled: no insulation, not much of an interior, and . . . no mufflers. It's vibration-prone and quite unfinished, all to engender that race-car ambience. The Special Vehicle folks scrunched up their eyes when we asked them to let us loose with it. We didn't set Mississippi on fire. A short blast around a photo site confirmed the concern of the squinty eyes. Engine heat compounded by the punch of the humidity, shake-your-guts-out ride, and siren exhaust shrunk our expectations to a nub. Nothing left to do but look beyond the obvious.
When you mash the accelerator, No. 6 turns those chubby tires all the way through Second and yaws big-time going into Third. In a nod to the bygone L72 427, the Gen III LS6 427-incher produces more from a smaller and lighter entity. Though the sheetmetal was highly customized for this event, the subliminal intent is clear and absolute. All of No. 6's mechanical bits can be applied (bolted on, in fact) to any fourth-gen Camaro. No. 6 is dead. Long live No. 6!
Here is the edited text of the article without pictures....I found everything a bit difficult to read off the link. There are a lot of good pictures on the link though that you may want to look at.
It's steamy, hot August outside. The sweat is still rolling down my ribs as Mark Ruess (executive director, Performance Division) and I clack through the warrens of Warren in the GM Design Center, straight off Mound Road. After we'd jawed for a few minutes, he'd grabbed me for a look-see down in the basement. Along the way, I spotted the skeletal SS sedan that would be introduced at the Detroit Show six months hence. Cool. "What's up, now?" I thought, as Ruess said hellos to passing cohorts and acquaintances.
Then I hear the sound of many voices, a hubbub, dozens milling about and chatting. It's a celebration and I'm the mystery guest. A pair of visions bookend this nether room. F-bodies: a dark blue Camaro, the incarnation of Mark Donohue's Penske No. 6 and a blue-stripe-over-pearl-white Firebird, the original '70 Trans Am alter ego. I shake hands all around and am quickly invited into the driver seat of No. 6. "Go ahead, push the starter button," I hear behind me. The 427 whirs for a second. A double-barreled .12-gauge explodes the basement room. Walls shatter. Scares the hell out of me. Grins all around. They done good, real good. An hour later, the car is out on Woodward, John Heinricy at the wheel, astounding the locals (hopefully under the auspices of the cops), burning up and down the road like he was a god.
In the months that follow, I don't see more than crumbs written about these apparitions. It's like they don't exist. Traps stay shut. Eyes stay closed. The niche books turn away. Even Hot Rod makes like they're radioactive.
Fast forward. It's April '03. I'm at a GM squeal and Heinricy's there. I ask him: "John, what ever happened to the Woodward cars? Are they still around?" "They shoulda been crushed a while ago, but they weren't. Now we're taking 'em on Power Tour and that may be the end of 'em."
"Could we, say, ignite Mississippi for a day in No. 6? Would that be asking too much?"
"Probably. They've never been fully calibrated, but I'm sure you could vent in it for a little while."
So now it's Power Tour and we're hoping to tromp the bejeezus out of No. 6 for posterity . . . and to satisfy a blood lust. Once this Camaro drops off the radar, it's highly unlikely there will ever be another from the collective who built it in just a matter of weeks. The hook for this project was to make it an in-house job, a common-good project leveled between GM Powertrain, GM Performance Parts, and the GM Design Center. According to Ruess, it was a labor of love: "We wanted to start building employee enthusiasm with our division partners, and I think these were two perfect cars to help achieve that goal." The way the throng had whooped when I hit the red button, I'm sure the exercise was a wholesome, if not dizzying, experience.
Beyond its edgy (perhaps a bit overdone), no-BS appearance, this ultimate F-Body was endowed with a bored and stroked C5-R race block that displaces 427 ci. Induction formalities begin with the fabricated plenum chamber atop isolated runners. Output is 580 hp; torque is 575 lb-ft. One of No. 6's main attractions is its NASCAR-like side exhaust, the collector of which flairs wide and long--the terminus of long-tube headers with primaries that begin at 13/4 inches and step up to 17/8 inches. A merge collector necks it down to 13/4 then 11/2 inches. Torque passes through a custom T56 transmission spaced at 2.29:1, 1.61:1, 1.22:1, 1.00:1, 0.80:1 and 0.54:1. The 4.56:1 gears in the 12-bolt axle augment that shallow low-gear ratio. Drivetrain moxie flourishes in the 30-spline axleshafts and the F-car aluminum driveshaft.
To stand behind its notorious countenance, the chassis is augmented with 1LE show-room-stock suspension pieces, three-way adjustable dampers, and tubular upper control arms. Stock ZO6 calipers manage the slotted and cross-drilled Corvette front rotors; the rear units are stock F-Car with the same rotor modifications. All of it is readily available from the parts bin. What really sets this Camaro apart is its focal point: big tire and wheels and the bodywork required to tuck it neatly beneath. The mammoth 18-inch 315/30 and 335/30 ZR-rated rubber is on 11- and 12-inch Fikse Profil 13 modular rims and stretches track width by 1.3 inches in front and 2.8 inches in the rear. But notice also how well it conforms to the contours of the skin. All that reworked bodywork is ferrous metal and includes the front and rear fasciae, hood, the rear quarters, as well as the front and rear spoiler. So it looks as God intended.
But there are caveats. Old No. 6 is a Spartan sled: no insulation, not much of an interior, and . . . no mufflers. It's vibration-prone and quite unfinished, all to engender that race-car ambience. The Special Vehicle folks scrunched up their eyes when we asked them to let us loose with it. We didn't set Mississippi on fire. A short blast around a photo site confirmed the concern of the squinty eyes. Engine heat compounded by the punch of the humidity, shake-your-guts-out ride, and siren exhaust shrunk our expectations to a nub. Nothing left to do but look beyond the obvious.
When you mash the accelerator, No. 6 turns those chubby tires all the way through Second and yaws big-time going into Third. In a nod to the bygone L72 427, the Gen III LS6 427-incher produces more from a smaller and lighter entity. Though the sheetmetal was highly customized for this event, the subliminal intent is clear and absolute. All of No. 6's mechanical bits can be applied (bolted on, in fact) to any fourth-gen Camaro. No. 6 is dead. Long live No. 6!