White Satellite Replaces Black Charger

Who gets tired of a tough, black 1969 Dodge Charger? Fredrik Gustafson knows the answer. He sold his to buy a decidedly more grandfatherly Plymouth Satellite. Just add a cane and some heavy use of the parcel shelf, and you’ve got the complete image of a gentleman with a sensible cruiser. Or do you?

“The Charger needed new paint. And an engine rebuild. I figured I’d sell it and find a car that was more complete,” he says. “Honestly, I didn’t really have a clear idea of what I wanted instead.”

No sooner said than done. The Charger quickly found a new owner. Gustafson didn’t expect to buy another car just as fast. No, he was looking forward to a cozy winter spent browsing eBay, Racing Junk and other delightful buy-and-sell forums.

Dreaming…

“Then the Satellite, a ’67, popped up just as the Charger was leaving. The fact that it had already been rebuilt and restored was, of course, a big plus. Switching from a Charger to this car might seem a little odd. But if you’ve seen it all and you’re, so to speak, initiated, there’s nothing particularly special about a 1969 Dodge Charger,” he says. “And I don’t mean to sound like a snob.”

As mentioned, Gustafson didn’t know exactly what he was after. Well – except that it had to be a Mopar_®. From 1966 or 1967. The years just before the second-generation Charger came along. He had probably imagined something more stripped-down. Like a Plymouth Belvedere, the most basic and budget-friendly model in the Belvedere, Satellite and GTX family.

Yes, Gustafson wanted something that stood out design-wise from post-1968 Mopar vehicles, which are fairly common these days.

“I’d probably looked at Dodge Coronets and Plymouth Satellites over the years. And since I was born in ’67, maybe that plays a role,” Gustafson says with a chuckle. “Honestly, the Satellite had been lowered an inch, but otherwise it was exactly the look I wanted. Kind of drag racing style – basically stock. You could immediately imagine what a new set of tires and wheels and raising the stance a bit would do for the car.”

Now that Gustafson has owned the car for a while, he says it’s roughly the same size as the Charger. And the driving position in the Satellite is pretty much identical. Even the interior is about the same.

But when it comes to handling, it’s a different story.

Each summer, Gustafson and a group of friends gather a couple hundred kilometers north of Stockholm. He’s the only one driving a classic American car – everyone else shows up in Porsches and Alfas. Whenever they leave Stockholm heading north, the group always chooses winding backroads.

“Let’s put it this way… The Satellite handles way better than the Charger ever did. Sure, the tires play a part, and I’ve installed a subframe connector under the car. But still, the difference is significant. The Satellite is also a bit more race-oriented, and I really like the stripped-down simplicity – though with a solid engine, of course,” Gustafson says.

After some reflection, Gustafson admits he had been thinking more deeply about what could replace the Charger. That Belvedere…

“I really like the 1966–67 Belvedere. With a post. Not the coupe version, but the truly old-man-style sedan with the shorter roof. The one without the B-pillar that’s slanted the wrong way – narrower at the bottom and wider at the top. Nobody wants those now. But you could order them with a HEMI^®, and they’re pretty rare. Yeah, my dream car is a 1967 Plymouth Belvedere II HEMI ‘R023.’ A factory-built racecar with a front bench seat, the same scoop I’ve got on the Satellite, and stripped down in every other way.”

Not that Gustafson is dissatisfied with his Satellite in any way. He has spent a lot of time immersing himself in the world of old Mopar racecars. Studying the details for hours and days. And using what he’s learned to refine his own Plymouth.

“When I was figuring out how to personalize my Satellite, I looked at those old drag racing cars. Drivers like Dick Landy and Don Garlits. Ronnie Sox and Buddy Martin. They drove GTXs, by the way, but it’s basically the same body. The trunk lid varies between GTX, Satellite and Belvedere, depending on the model. Incidentally, I’ve got GTX interior in my Satellite, with those patterned stripes in the upholstery, you know?

“The blue headlight lenses? Sox & Martin had those. It was tricky finding the right blue film. I removed it before inspection, but I’ve found new film in a slightly different shade. We’ll see how it turns out.”

Yes, it’s the details that make a car. Both the Satellite and pretty much every cool car out there. The broad strokes are essential to creating a badass ride, of course – but it’s the details that separate the lukewarm from the blazing hot.

And when it comes to details, Gustafson is a master.

Anyone who read the Charger article remembers his thoughts on tires. On the importance of proportions, for example.

“On some racecars, they removed the high beams. There are a bunch of neat little details you can add. Like black and white stripes on the drive shafts, or extra-long wheel studs. Some people even removed the passenger-side windshield wiper. What does that save you – maybe half a kilo?” Gustafson says with a grin.

On the other hand, racers have always gone to extremes to reduce weight. Like drilling out components – a method that doesn’t save as much as you might think. Or acid-dipping the body shell. Or using full-thread nuts.

“An external tachometer is also essential. Ideally, it should sit on top of the dash. That way, it’s easiest to read. I still need to relocate mine,” he adds.

He points out that the finish on old drag and NASCAR cars isn’t always the best. Some even wrapped their steering wheels in electrical tape. That’s worth remembering if you’re obsessing over surface finish while building a racecar.

And under the hood? Surely not a 426 HEMI engine, right? No. But it’s not a 318 either, despite what the hood ornament suggests.

“It was Urban ‘Mopar-Ubbe’ Lindström (well-known Mopar car builder in Scandinavia) who restored and painted the car, and he dropped in a 400 block stroked to 500 cubic inches. Yeah, the car runs great,” he says.

What’s next?

“I’m going to remove the center console, so the car feels more like it has two separate seats. I also want to find a new shifter and install it. And I’m not talking about one of those oversized B&M things.”

How about a column shifter? And a full bench?

“Full bench? That would be cool. Switching from a floor shifter to a column shifter… I don’t think anyone’s ever done that before. That would be pretty unique – to say the least.”

Sidebar: More or Less

• Naturally, Gustafson has taken his Satellite to the strip. His best time so far is 8.9 seconds over 201 meters. “I got under nine seconds once at Tallhed Raceway, north of Orsa. Must’ve made ten or more passes that day. It was insanely fun,” Gustafson recalls.
• The Satellite wears steel wheels in the rear and Keystone Klassics up front. Rear tires are Goodyear Polyglas GT G60-15 (~213 mm wide) on 7-inch rims, and front tires are Coker Redlines, 185 on 15×5.5.
• “Why Keystone up front? They’re not as common as American Racing Torq Thrust D wheels. They look more refined, and Sox & Martin used Keystones. But I wasn’t entirely set on them – I did consider American Racing’s Salt Flat Specials for a while. You usually see those on rods. But then the front wheels would’ve looked too much like the rear steelies,” Gustafson explains.
• Gustafson is always eager to talk about design. Tire width is (and has always been) a big deal to him. It’s a matter of symmetry.
• “The Satellite is like a shoebox, and the B-pillars are weird – they’re upside down. From behind, the Satellite looks like a rectangle. Not at all like the Charger. That opens up for wider tires in the back. I wanted the Plymouth to look like a stock car, and that meant beefier rear tires. I didn’t have that mindset with the Charger,” he says.
• Since Gustafson has strong views on design (and a background in the field), we couldn’t help but ask what he considers good car design. “It’s a kind of craftsmanship, even if it comes from America’s throwaway culture. A craftsmanship you just don’t see in modern cars. And it’s fascinating how different model years can be. It’s not like the Golf, which has looked almost the same since 1974,” Gustafson says.