October 1976 cover of Motor Trend Magazine.
1976 Motor Trend - Road Test: Avanti II
The attendant had made two quick loops around the car, his breath trailing out behind him in ragged little clouds, before some frozen memory cell clicked in and I realize what was wrong. He couldn't find the filler pipe. During the course of a five-day excursion through the frozen heartland, it had become a common enough experience. After all, most of the pump jockeys I encountered had never seen an Avanti, and those who had generally failed to remember what it was. But what really made me feel old were those all-too-frequent occasions when recognition failed to set in even after a brief enlightenment session. The following conversation , held in Iowa City , is a representative specimen : "Hey, what kind of car is this, anyway? " "It's an Avanti." "Abanti?" " no, Avanti. Ah-vahn-tee. Used to be made by Studebaker. Guy named Nate Altman makes 'em now. About 200 of them a year." "Studebaker ? "You remember Studebaker, don't you?" "Uh … say, where's the dipstick on this thing?" As the lights of Iowa City dwindled in the Avanti's mirrors, it was fun to reflect on the paradox that's regularly presented by this Peter Pan of autodom: it's forgotten, but not gone. Introduced in 1962, the Avanti looks like anything but an anachronism. Its styling, definitely advanced by early sixties standards, is certainly up to date today, to say the least." And now that the car has become some sort of automated phantom, it's also an inspiration for endless double takes from fellow freeway voyagers. Reactions range from merely curious, by people who haven't any idea what they're looking at, to startled recollection by the few people who do. The genius behind the origonal Avanti was Paris designer Raymond Loewy, and the builders of the Avanti II have had the good sense to refrain from tampering with the car's exterior. Besides a small amount of tasteful detrimming, and the unfortunately necessary addition of impact-absorbing bumpers, the most striking visible difference between Avanti's I and II is that the pronounced forward wake of the original has disappeared.
With good ground clearance all around, the car has a nimble, eager look about it that's very appealing indeed. Nimble and eager both fall a trifle short of the sensations that occur the first time you actually set your foot on the Avanti throttle. Aggressive is better, and exhilarating is also definitely part of the picture. The Avanti is certainly no drag racing car, but by 1976 standards it's definitely pretty quick – something actually happens when you put your foot down. Clipping briskly through the semi-paralytic wintertime traffic of small heartland cities like Des Moines, Davenport, Moline, Kankakee, and South Bend, it became plain that this is a very handy piece for getting across town in a hurry. In fact, the Avanti throttle response is so immediate and spirited that it has a couple of negative points. First, on any kind of slippery surface, getting off the line requires some tricky throttle-feathering. High torque (390 lb/ft Act 2400 rpm) and relatively light weight over the rear wheels combine to make getaway traction so-so on dry pavement, squirrely on wet. Second, minding the speed limits, local and national, is an ongoing exercise in self-restraint. It's dismayingly easy to find oneself doing 45 and 50 mph on city streets, and 80 seems to be the car's favorite cruising groove. Combine this with the near-absence of speed sensation (another tribute to Loewy's design work), and you have a car with a high TQ-Ticket Quotient. But stylish performance was what the Avanti was all about to begin with, and the Avanti II just is merely a refinement of the original concept, a dignified street rod for doctors, lawyers, and others with the economic clout to buy one (for 1976 the bottom line starts at $12,195, and that's for a rather bare Avanti).
Under the fiberglass, the Avanti is more GM than Studebaker, although the beefy X-membered frame continues from the original cars. The current power plant is a 400cid Chevy, the same engine that normally hauls Chevy's Impala and Caprice Estate wagons. The transmission, also GM, is a 3-speed automatic. It's a positive and smooth, getting enough power to the rear wheels to make a 0-60 a matter of 8 seconds; but there were many times, when the road was dry and no one was looking, that I wished the company still offered a 4-speed manual. However, that particular luxury was phased out in 1974 due to low demand. Thanks to the 55 mph speed limit, driving the Avanti – or anything else, for that matter – on the frozen undulations of Interstate 80 was about as interesting as an ice fishing contest.
Although there were hints of the cars capabilities – a firm but comfortable ride, the impatient ease with which the engine held the speed limit (using only 2600 rpm to do so), the quick steering, impressively precise for a power unit – the business of freeway driving since the gasoline crisis is nothing more than a choice. During my visit, the trunk highways of Indiana and Illinois were clogged with the residue of a recent blizzard, and my first chance to let the car unwind was on some of the back roads of central Iowa. The big Chevy engine responded with a satisfying snarl, and the subdued early winter landscape-a somber watercolor compound of big red barns, corn stubble poking through snow-covered fields and gray stands of oak-began to speed up. Even though few of Altman's customers and extend the car to its limits, he insists on performance standards that are high for an American sedan. The suspension-independent in front-does a surprisingly good job. Even in hard cornering, body roll is minimal and understeer slight. The live rear axle caused the rear end to hop around a bit on rough roads, but this didn't seem to be much of a problem on highways that received even ordinary maintenance.
It didn't take long to become confident enough in the car's handling qualities to begin drifting a little while negotiating a series of fast, sweeping curves paralleling a small river. The Avanti won't set any world records for sticking power – it seemed quite willing to slide, despite a brand new set of Firestone radials – but it balances nicely and control was good. The only source of uneasiness was a slight tendency to overcorrect, an effect produced by a combination of abrupt return of adhesion at the end of each drift and the usual insensitivity of power steering. It took only a small amount of experience with the car for
The car stops as well as it goes. The combination of Bendix disks in front and drums in the rear is good enough to get the Avanti from 60-0 in less than 140 ft. My feeling was that the Altman Avanti isn't exactly a sports car, but it's certainly on a par with a lot of the so-called grand touring machinery around.
Compared to some of the hotter pony cars of six or seven years ago, the Avanti II's performance and handling would be rather ordinary, but by today's standards it's definitely a peppy item. And even though Altman is considering a smaller engine in the near future to conform with the general shrinkage of the Chevy product line-perhaps a 350 or 305-there's no reason to believe the go will go away. One car has already been fitted with a 305, and its performance reportedly is roughly comparable to that of the current power plant. Fuel efficiency is usually of secondary interest in rigs of this sort, but considering its 400-inch engine, the Avanti II doesn't grade out too badly. It's EPA ratings are 13 mpg in the city cycle, 17 highway. During five days of Midwest touring our sample car managed to exceed the top figure over one stretch of freeway cruising, averaging 17.7 mpg.
Even more important to the ageless good looks and sporty performance in the Avanti II catalog of priorities is quality. The cars are hand-built, not only on the assembly line but in pre-assembly as well. Altman likes to boast that a higher percentage of each of his cars is made in-house than at any other U.S. manufacturer, referring to items like seats and dashboards that are farmed out by the Big Four. Naturally, this insures tighter quality control, as does a production schedule that allows plenty of time for precise fitting up and shaking down. When a new Avanti has completed its two to three month assembly and finishing process, its thoroughly tested for leaks and then rode tested for 150 to 250 mi. The attention to detail was quite apparent in my car. Everything had the look and feel of quality to it, and the few shortcomings I was able to detect were tiny ones: the passenger-side door required a good, stiff slam when the car was parked on any surface that sloped down to the right; the driver-side wing window leaked very slightly, in the ageless tradition of wing windows; and the heater six suffered occasional bouts of dyspeptic gurgling and hissing. All of these flaws are easily corrected, of course, and Altman would never allow one of his cars to leave South Bend in the hands of a buyer without seeing to them first.
However, there were some built-in sources of irritation that were surprising in a $12,000-plus car. First, the trunk has no exterior release. An electric trunk release is available for $50, but this too operates only from inside the car. Second, the sun visors have no swing-out feature. With the winter sun setting in the Southwest, this led to one particularly long westbound afternoon. Finally, the seat backs, comfortable and well-angled though they are, have only one position. They tilted forward to allow access to the rear seat (which is big enough to accommodate two good-sized adults for short hauls), but you have no option on your driving position. Apparently the short-coming is a product of engineering and supply problems, but whatever its source, it's not consistent with the rest of the package.Elsewhere, the layout is first rate. Front seat leg space is excellent, and, as mentioned, the seats are quite comfortable, even over long drives. All the major instrumentation is directly in front of the driver and is easily visible through the steering "in. or 6'5" in.
The look of the instrument panel was updated recently with the switch to Stewart-Warner gauges, a positive change. A touch that lends special magic to the cockpit at night is the red lighting of the heating and light controls which are to the driver's right, half of them mounted just below the dash, half of them just above the windshield. The upper cluster of switches seems to float in midair at night, creating a look that would be just as much at home on the flight deck of a Lear jet. My Avanti, which is now the property of Nate Altman's brother and second-in-command, Ari, was optioned up to about the $15,000 level, with fairly common extras like air-conditioning, and AM/F M Radio, an excellent 8-track tape player, a tilt steering wheel, styled wheels, shag carpeting and so on. But for the cost-is-no-object buyer, there are some very expensive temptations in the option inventories. How about Frankfurt Blaupunkt Berlin Combo Ultra Super solid-state signal-seeking radio, cassette tape player and recorder with automatic electric antenna? Only $1,200, and it's a very lovely piece indeed. Or an electric moon roof? That's $995, and a regular sunroof is $695. Borrani wire wheels-$1,450. Leather or suede upholstery-$900. Genuine would dashboard-$250. I allowed my imagination to sort through the list of options as I reluctantly headed back for South Bend and a return to reality. Let's see-definitely have to have the Berlin Radio, the Borrani wires, the moon roof, the leather, the wood dashboard … When I finished shopping, I'd spend as much as you can spend on an Avanti without shopping outside the list. The tab came to $19,255. Does that seem like a lot? For a car that's handsome, fun to drive and easy to service with a bonus of a near-guarantee of not having to see its carbon copy sitting in a neighbor's carport? Well, maybe it is a little steep. But take heart. Altman could get half again as much for the Avanti II if he wanted to. And besides, he takes trades.
Under the fiberglass, the Avanti is more GM than Studebaker, although the beefy X-membered frame continues from the original cars. The current power plant is a 400cid Chevy, the same engine that normally hauls Chevy's Impala and Caprice Estate wagons. The transmission, also GM, is a 3-speed automatic. It's a positive and smooth, getting enough power to the rear wheels to make a 0-60 a matter of 8 seconds; but there were many times, when the road was dry and no one was looking, that I wished the company still offered a 4-speed manual. However, that particular luxury was phased out in 1974 due to low demand. Thanks to the 55 mph speed limit, driving the Avanti – or anything else, for that matter – on the frozen undulations of Interstate 80 was about as interesting as an ice fishing contest.
Although there were hints of the cars capabilities – a firm but comfortable ride, the impatient ease with which the engine held the speed limit (using only 2600 rpm to do so), the quick steering, impressively precise for a power unit – the business of freeway driving since the gasoline crisis is nothing more than a choice. During my visit, the trunk highways of Indiana and Illinois were clogged with the residue of a recent blizzard, and my first chance to let the car unwind was on some of the back roads of central Iowa. The big Chevy engine responded with a satisfying snarl, and the subdued early winter landscape-a somber watercolor compound of big red barns, corn stubble poking through snow-covered fields and gray stands of oak-began to speed up. Even though few of Altman's customers and extend the car to its limits, he insists on performance standards that are high for an American sedan. The suspension-independent in front-does a surprisingly good job. Even in hard cornering, body roll is minimal and understeer slight. The live rear axle caused the rear end to hop around a bit on rough roads, but this didn't seem to be much of a problem on highways that received even ordinary maintenance.
It didn't take long to become confident enough in the car's handling qualities to begin drifting a little while negotiating a series of fast, sweeping curves paralleling a small river. The Avanti won't set any world records for sticking power – it seemed quite willing to slide, despite a brand new set of Firestone radials – but it balances nicely and control was good. The only source of uneasiness was a slight tendency to overcorrect, an effect produced by a combination of abrupt return of adhesion at the end of each drift and the usual insensitivity of power steering. It took only a small amount of experience with the car for
The car stops as well as it goes. The combination of Bendix disks in front and drums in the rear is good enough to get the Avanti from 60-0 in less than 140 ft. My feeling was that the Altman Avanti isn't exactly a sports car, but it's certainly on a par with a lot of the so-called grand touring machinery around.
Compared to some of the hotter pony cars of six or seven years ago, the Avanti II's performance and handling would be rather ordinary, but by today's standards it's definitely a peppy item. And even though Altman is considering a smaller engine in the near future to conform with the general shrinkage of the Chevy product line-perhaps a 350 or 305-there's no reason to believe the go will go away. One car has already been fitted with a 305, and its performance reportedly is roughly comparable to that of the current power plant. Fuel efficiency is usually of secondary interest in rigs of this sort, but considering its 400-inch engine, the Avanti II doesn't grade out too badly. It's EPA ratings are 13 mpg in the city cycle, 17 highway. During five days of Midwest touring our sample car managed to exceed the top figure over one stretch of freeway cruising, averaging 17.7 mpg.
Even more important to the ageless good looks and sporty performance in the Avanti II catalog of priorities is quality. The cars are hand-built, not only on the assembly line but in pre-assembly as well. Altman likes to boast that a higher percentage of each of his cars is made in-house than at any other U.S. manufacturer, referring to items like seats and dashboards that are farmed out by the Big Four. Naturally, this insures tighter quality control, as does a production schedule that allows plenty of time for precise fitting up and shaking down. When a new Avanti has completed its two to three month assembly and finishing process, its thoroughly tested for leaks and then rode tested for 150 to 250 mi. The attention to detail was quite apparent in my car. Everything had the look and feel of quality to it, and the few shortcomings I was able to detect were tiny ones: the passenger-side door required a good, stiff slam when the car was parked on any surface that sloped down to the right; the driver-side wing window leaked very slightly, in the ageless tradition of wing windows; and the heater six suffered occasional bouts of dyspeptic gurgling and hissing. All of these flaws are easily corrected, of course, and Altman would never allow one of his cars to leave South Bend in the hands of a buyer without seeing to them first.
However, there were some built-in sources of irritation that were surprising in a $12,000-plus car. First, the trunk has no exterior release. An electric trunk release is available for $50, but this too operates only from inside the car. Second, the sun visors have no swing-out feature. With the winter sun setting in the Southwest, this led to one particularly long westbound afternoon. Finally, the seat backs, comfortable and well-angled though they are, have only one position. They tilted forward to allow access to the rear seat (which is big enough to accommodate two good-sized adults for short hauls), but you have no option on your driving position. Apparently the short-coming is a product of engineering and supply problems, but whatever its source, it's not consistent with the rest of the package.Elsewhere, the layout is first rate. Front seat leg space is excellent, and, as mentioned, the seats are quite comfortable, even over long drives. All the major instrumentation is directly in front of the driver and is easily visible through the steering "in. or 6'5" in.
The look of the instrument panel was updated recently with the switch to Stewart-Warner gauges, a positive change. A touch that lends special magic to the cockpit at night is the red lighting of the heating and light controls which are to the driver's right, half of them mounted just below the dash, half of them just above the windshield. The upper cluster of switches seems to float in midair at night, creating a look that would be just as much at home on the flight deck of a Lear jet. My Avanti, which is now the property of Nate Altman's brother and second-in-command, Ari, was optioned up to about the $15,000 level, with fairly common extras like air-conditioning, and AM/F M Radio, an excellent 8-track tape player, a tilt steering wheel, styled wheels, shag carpeting and so on. But for the cost-is-no-object buyer, there are some very expensive temptations in the option inventories. How about Frankfurt Blaupunkt Berlin Combo Ultra Super solid-state signal-seeking radio, cassette tape player and recorder with automatic electric antenna? Only $1,200, and it's a very lovely piece indeed. Or an electric moon roof? That's $995, and a regular sunroof is $695. Borrani wire wheels-$1,450. Leather or suede upholstery-$900. Genuine would dashboard-$250. I allowed my imagination to sort through the list of options as I reluctantly headed back for South Bend and a return to reality. Let's see-definitely have to have the Berlin Radio, the Borrani wires, the moon roof, the leather, the wood dashboard … When I finished shopping, I'd spend as much as you can spend on an Avanti without shopping outside the list. The tab came to $19,255. Does that seem like a lot? For a car that's handsome, fun to drive and easy to service with a bonus of a near-guarantee of not having to see its carbon copy sitting in a neighbor's carport? Well, maybe it is a little steep. But take heart. Altman could get half again as much for the Avanti II if he wanted to. And besides, he takes trades.