Pinetown’s J.P. Barlow is a self-confessed plunderer who believes in spending time rather than money in his pursuit of the perfect set of wheels. His latest creation started work as a 1937 Hudson Terraplane, but apart from the body shell there’s not much left of the original car.
Parts from a couple of Chevrolets and Jaguars, a BMW, a Fiat Uno , an Alfa Romeo, a ’58 Volkswagen Beetle and a BMW R1200C motorcycle found their way into the pensioner’s creation, while the bakkie brigade also did their bit with donations of sundry bits from a scrapped Toyota Hilux and an Isuzu KB. And there was a Defy stove involved somewhere as well …
J.P.’s car was in a pretty sorry state when he bought it five years ago. The body was full of filler, the trim was rotten and the mechanicals all needed rebuilding. J.P., himself a 1937 model, was still in pretty good working order so he stripped the vehicle down until there was nothing left to take off the chassis except rust. Then he got rid of that. The original suspension, brakes, engine, gearbox and interior trim went to The Big Scrapyard in the Sky, and the greatest feat of cannibalisation in 100 years began.
In went the suspension and brakes from a wrecked 1970s Jaguar. A Chevrolet SS steering column found its way into the mixture, with an Alfa Romeo steering wheel bolted on the top. The original six-cylinder side-valve engine was replaced by a Chevrolet 350 (5,7 litre) mill – rebuilt by J.P. – with a General Motors 700 R4 auto gearbox bolted to the back, and cooled by a customised BMW radiator.
Indicator and lighting stalks came from a Fiat Uno, the instruments and electric windows from another Jag, the front bench seat from a Toyota bakkie, and solenoids from two old starter motors provided the impetus for the door poppers – you’ll notice that this car has no door handles. A push on a remote control gets them swinging open on their own.
J.P.’s been building cars like this for years, and does 99% of the work himself in his garage at home, including the bodywork and paintwork, the engineering, and the fitting of the glass. His neighbour, Aubrey Cilliers — another pensioner — helped him with the wiring, and the upholstery was sent off to an auto trimmer, but the rest is pure Barlow Engineering.
“People come and talk to me about the car whenever I stop,” says J.P., who can’t even seek anonymity by going out in his other car. That’s a cut down 1933 Chevrolet two-door coupe!