Next to the Ford Mustang, Pontiac Bonneville and Chevrolet Impala, the Dodge Charger is one of the most popular American cars in Sweden. Of course, we’re talking about the 1968 up to 1972 models. However, this bundle isn’t the first choice for Pontus Alenfelt from Västerås. He much prefers the ’67 Charger.
Among those who have been involved with classic American cars for decades, there are always a few who move on to something different. Over time, they start looking at and becoming interested in the more unusual models.
“Chrysler Corporation cars from 1962 to 1965 looked like crap back in the day, in my opinion. But nowadays, those cars are cool,” Alenfelt says.
As a big fan of these model years, something I have not always been, I understand him. I’m the same way myself. Tired of the ordinary, hungry for something different.
“I found the Charger on eBay in 2005. It was in San Francisco. My buddy Leif Johansson lived nearby, so I asked him to go check out the car. He called back and said, ‘If you don’t buy the Charger, I will.’ So, it wasn’t hard to make a decision,” Alenfelt says.
The owner wanted $10,000, but Leif managed to haggle the price down by $1,000.
“These models, 1966 and 1967, weren’t worth anything back then, in 2005. I think the car ended up costing me around €9,000 when it was in my garage,” Alenfelt says.
Ten years later, the situation is a bit different. The ’66-’67 models haven’t reached the prices of the ’68-’70 Chargers, but the value has appreciated favorably for those who own a Charger from the first two production years.
So, what did Alenfelt bring home? A Dodge with a 383 engine, a four-speed manual transmission (A-833), and an 8 3/4 rear axle.
“A four-barrel carburetor, you know. A real beast! Well, not really. The 383 was a bit tame. Many of my friends had plenty of power under the hood. Since I have a Chrysler 300 with a 500-cubic-inch engine, I decided to build a similar one for the Charger. I bought a short block from 440 Source, and Uffe ‘The Chef’ Eklund helped me put the rest together. Everyone needs a skilled mentor, and The Chef is amazing at everything, especially Mopars,” Alenfelt says.
Since the transmission was pretty worn out to say the least, and sounded like a tram when driving in third gear, The Chef kindly rebuilt it for Alenfelt. The result? Excellent, of course. After all, we’re talking about The Chef here.
“The rest of the drivetrain consists of the rear axle. The driveshafts are from Moroso. Are they good? Well, they haven’t snapped yet, so I guess they work. On a Chrysler New Yorker I once had back when The Flintstones were around, the axles twisted almost a full turn without breaking. Tough Detroit steel works well too. The gear ratio is 3.55:1, and the rear axle is fixed with Slide-A-Link traction bars. Reason? My friends had pointed out that when I took off from the starting line, the rear wheels were all blurry, and I did feel that it wobbled a bit at the start,” Alenfelt says with a smile.
And the amount of horsepower? Alenfelt mumbles something inaudible. “Around 450 horsepower or so?” I suggest. Alenfelt mumbles a bit louder, “Maybe 500 horsepower.”
I take this to mean that an exact horsepower figure is pretty irrelevant to Alenfelt, and if he found it important, he would have dyno-tested it.
But if power figures are less important, then black steel wheels are more Alenfelt’s style.
“I like the sleeper look with steel wheels and hubcaps. Think of the stripped-down police car style. You don’t show that you’ve got power, but you have some when it really counts,” says Alenfelt with a new evil grin.
At the same time, he’s also eager to mention that he’s run the Charger on a 201-meter strip in 8 seconds flat. Good performance without being extreme in any way. Ah. It’s the result that counts, not the figures on a paper.
“8 seconds, but I skipped power-shifting. That is, speed-shifting at full throttle and slamming into gears. If you skip that, you save the transmission and don’t have to replace gears and synchros. Yeah, I guess I’m a bit of a cheapskate. But it also goes a bit slower. But then again, I don’t have to do as much mechanical work,” Alenfelt says.
Yes, with 700-800 horsepower, drivability can suffer unless you build very sophisticatedly, he then adds. Alenfelt feels it’s easier to create something less complicated and “just drive.”
“I don’t drive to Kiruna in the northern part of Sweden with the Charger, but I easily drive to Stockholm and back (100 kilometers circa) when I feel like it. The car doesn’t consume more than 2 liters of gasoline per 10 kilometers. Yes, the Charger is a great cruising car. Just load up three friends and head out,” Alenfelt says with a big smile.
Smiling, yes, he does that often. But he rarely laughs. Another fine quality is that northern Swedish calmness that surrounds Alenfelt. If I may generalize about northerners.
Yes, he’s laid-back and a bit absent-minded, the good Alenfelt. We’re hanging out together in Västerås on a summer Thursday, and over the course of four to five hours, Alenfelt manages to forget to bring a key to a gate (it works out anyway) and loses his wallet (he finds it under the back seat of the Charger a few hours after we part ways). One of those full-throttle runs apparently moved the wallet from the front seat floor to the area under the back seat. “Damn Newton,” laughs Alenfelt, not getting worked up about it. He says the wallet disappears once a week but always turns up somewhere.
I, on the other hand, would be in orbit around planet Saturn if I forgot a key or lost my wallet.
Yes, Alenfelt takes it easy. He is the embodiment of calm. Perhaps it has to do with his involvement in pistol and revolver shooting, something that brings about an inner peace. I know because I get to join Alenfelt at the shooting range. But if shooting is the ultimate relaxation exercise, then what does Alenfelt’s interest in cars represent?!
“I usually say that my interest in cars and mechanics is a big test of my own patience. It’s often not right until the third attempt. The journey is usually, but not always, fun, though the end result is always enjoyable. It’s also about doing something you find meaningful. Half of it is being in the shared garage with pals,” Alenfelt says.
Shared garage, indeed. In SMF’s garage, both the Charger and the other cars that Pontus owns usually stand. Because he owns more than one Mopar®.
“Yes, I also have two Chrysler 300s. One of them, jet black with two small scoops on the hood, I usually call ‘Darth Vader’s daily driver.’ Then there’s Rut, my yellow 300 with nitrous and a 440 cui with six-pack. The 440 engine, as I mentioned earlier, is stroked to 500 cubic inches. I’ve run bracket drag racing with that one. I’ve pushed the Chrysler to 11.9 seconds over 402 meters, which is okay for such a heavy car,” Alenfelt says.
He’s absolutely right. But he’s also not shy with the gas pedal. It’s designed to move downward, and Alenfelt understands that well.
This becomes especially clear when we photograph his Dodge Charger at Lantmännen’s grain silo in Västerås. Pontus is so familiar with the function of the pedal that he easily creates a minor solar eclipse in under five seconds.
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