One of the sadder stories in General Motors history is the Vega. On paper, the Vega was supposed to be a revolutionary compact built with advanced techniques to show the world that Detroit could still be a leader. In practice, the car rusted on showroom floors and fell apart, burning away the goodwill built by the engineering – but it wasn’t entirely a disaster. Chevrolet morphed the Vega into the sporty Monza, and for just a single year in 1975, Californians could get it with a 350 cubic inch V8. The weird part is that the Monza was never even supposed to get this engine.
One of the wildest parts about the Vega story is the car we got technically wasn’t the car we were supposed to get. The Vega was developed during a time when pretty much the whole world was allured by the promises of the Wankel rotary engine. In theory, a Wankel could have been more reliable than a piston engine since it has fewer moving parts. Because a rotary completes three full Otto cycles (intake, compression, combustion, exhaust) per rotation, a little 300cc rotary could produce the kind of power a piston engine of double the displacement puts out.
The thought was you could take a physically smaller Wankel and make a lighter-weight, more efficient car with it than a conventional piston engine would allow. Wankels rev high and have a phenomenal power-to-weight ratio. If you were an automaker or motorcycle manufacturer in the 1960s and the 1970s, the rotary seemed like the engine of the future and you were quick to nab a license from NSU, the engine’s home manufacturer.
As the New York Times reported in 1970, General Motors paid $50 million ($406,315,721 today) to NSU for global licensing rights to the Wankel engine. As the newspaper continued, the Wankel was known for problems including sealing issues, lubrication issues, and emitting heavy emissions. Engineers were confident that these issues had either already been solved by NSU or could be solved with more development.
In 1972, General Motors announced that by 1974, the Vega should have a rotary of GM design. The press praised this report, touting a future where American consumers would have quieter, smaller, more reliable cars while also pumping up the auto industry through the purchases of tools and machinery to manufacture rotary engines in America.
However, the dream wasn’t there yet. At the same time, it was reported that General Motors was battling wear caused by friction with its rotary’s apex seals and combustion chamber coating. At the time, Mazda figured a rotary would need to be rebuilt every 60,000 miles at a cost of $160 ($1,227 today). Making matters worse was the fact that as GM was finding out, rotaries were expensive to build and were heavy polluters.
Weirdly, the writing was already on the wall. In July 1973, Motor Trend reported that a 1975 Chevrolet Vega with a rotary would have achieved 16 to 18 mpg, worse than the 20 to 26 mpg offered by the four-cylinder. The major draw of the rotary was that it was supposed to be a greener engine, but all evidence pointed to the contrary.
Dark clouds hung over Michigan in 1974 when General Motors delayed its rotary indefinitely, citing an inability to get the engine to emit less pollution. By 1977, General Motors threw in the towel, with the New York Times reporting that General Motors canceled its rotary program after the engine failed to “demonstrate the potential for low emissions levels and fuel economy equal to those of current reciprocating piston engines.” As I’ve written before, nearly every single company that experimented with rotary power failed to prove the engine’s case. Mazda is still working with rotaries today but in a far reduced capacity than in the past.
General Motors wanted to place its Wankel in the Corvette-style GT, the Vega, and this, the Vega-based Monza. Since the thrifty Wankel never panned out, the General went with what it knew, America still got a sporty car and General Motors got a grail in the process.
Ambitious, But Problematic
I already recently wrote about the development of the Vega, so I won’t go over the whole thing. Click here to read that piece. But, if you missed it, I’ll make it quick. Hagerty quotes Michael Lamm from the April 2000 issue of Collectible Automobile magazine:
“Every specification, the way the Vega was engineered and styled, its performance, handling, fuel economy, quality, durability, ease of maintenance, comfort, options, body choices, the Lordstown assembly plant—even the way it was shipped—was carefully planned and refined by the best minds in the business. The goal was to make an automobile that would cost one dollar per pound, beat the VW Beetle in quality and value, one-up the Toyota Corona in amenities and performance and outsell what GM knew was coming from Ford, the Pinto … and he wanted it in showrooms in 24 months. This was a brutally short time to design and engineer a new car, especially one that borrowed almost nothing from any other. But timing was crucial.”
The Vega wasn’t just a car to compete with the imports, but it was supposed to show that General Motors still knew how to innovate. This was a car that was supposed to weigh less than a ton and be better than a Volkswagen Beetle in every conceivable way while also being an affordable technological marvel. Some 80 percent of the welds of a Vega were automated, reducing factory worker load and improving quality. The car was supposed to have a Wankel engine, but General Motors still gave it a novel aluminum block four, and there was even a brand-new process created just to ship the cars to dealerships.
Chevrolet General Manager John Z. DeLorean was tasked with selling the Vega, which was difficult because the Vega was designed through another new process. In the past, GM’s divisions had the autonomy to design and engineer their own cars, but the Vega was designed and engineered by GM corporate and then passed down to Chevrolet. Reportedly, Chevy’s engineers weren’t particularly thrilled with putting the finishing touches on a car they didn’t design in the first place.
This is often cited for the reason that the Vega was ambitious, but ended up a reliability disaster. The Vega quickly grew a reputation for rusting before the customer even took delivery and then falling apart, overheating, and destroying engines after purchase.
Truth be told, it wasn’t uncommon for the cars of the 1970s to be unreliable hunks of junk or rustbuckets. Many of our readers chimed in the last time around to talk about how quickly German cars reduced themselves to piles of iron oxide. The reviews by the legendary Bob Mayer of TV station WTVJ in Miami, Florida, showed that few brands seemingly knew how to put a car together well.
GM’s problems with the Vega never stopped it from continuing to develop the vehicle. Later, the Vega would try to fight the Europeans with the Cosworth Vega and then there was the Monza.
Chevrolet’s Answer To The Mustang II
According to Automobile Magazine, the pony car found itself on the ropes in the 1970s as demand waned. The AMC Javelin and Plymouth Barracuda died after the 1974 model years while the Dodge Charger became a personal luxury car in 1975. Meanwhile, the Ford Mustang was technically still a pony car, but it underwent a massive change to become the Mustang II.
As Automobile writes, General Motors planned to follow the rest of America’s automakers. GM President Ed Cole wanted to kill the Chevy Camaro, the Pontiac Firebird, and the Trans Am as he didn’t want to invest the cash to get the General’s pony cars to meet the bumper standards of the early 1970s. Ultimately, the General’s ponies were saved by enthusiasts within GM and its own dealers, who didn’t want to see these legends die. The fans were right, too, as sales of these cars ticked up.
The Monza 2+2 was a car for the times. It was a downsized sport coupe, allegedly borrowed its profile from the Ferrari 365 GTC/4, got an Italian name, and was supposed to have that novel Wankel engine. John Z. DeLorean referred to the Monza as “the Italian Vega.” The Monza was built on the Vega’s platform, sharing the 97-inch wheelbase and unibody. However, the Monza got its own body on top as well as the Vega GT’s torque-arm rear suspension with front and rear anti-roll bars designed to eliminate the wheel hop the Vega was known for during braking.
But, more than that, the Monza was supposed to be the sporty car the Vega didn’t really turn out to be. Unlike the Vega, this car even got V8 power, or what passed for V8 power in the Malaise Era, anyway. You may wonder why Chevy decided to build a V8 compact sports car on the bones of the Vega. According to DrivingLine, the appeal for GM was being able to create a new small model using the cheap existing architecture of the Vega.
Production began in late 1974 for the 1975 model year and GM hoped for a hit. The press seemed to love some aspects of the Monza. Road & Track complimented the vehicle’s drop-dead gorgeous looks but knocked it for having wheel covers that looked like alloy wheels instead of just having real alloy wheels. The publication also praised the fact that the Monza appeared to be quieter than the Vega it’s based on.
In terms of handling, the magazine said the Monza has neutral handling, but you could induce some oversteer if you try really hard. Otherwise, the car didn’t have much in the way of understeer, either. Road & Track concludes the Monza “goes pretty well where it’s pointed,” but warns that the steering has little road feel.
Unfortunately, when Road & Track compared the Monza against a Ford Mustang II V8, the Mustang II beat it in most measured performance metrics. It took the Mustang II 10.5 seconds to hit 60 mph while the Monza was a more leisurely 13.4-second sprint to 60 mph. The Mustang II stopped much quicker and had better lateral g acceleration, too, but the Monza destroyed the Mustang II in fuel economy. In the end, the publication actually found it hard to choose. Road & Track said the Monza handled better in the real world, was more pleasant to drive, was more comfortable, and perhaps most importantly in the fuel-crunched 1970s, was far cheaper to fuel. In the end, the magazine chose the Monza as the victor by a small margin. The Mustang II may have dominated on paper, but the Monza turned out to be the better real car.
The Grail
So, if you’re choosing a Monza survivor today, which one should you choose?
A base Monza had the Vega’s 140 cubic inch four, which made all of 70 HP. This engine could have been hopped up with a two-barrel carburetor, kicking power up to 84 HP. At first, the hot engine was the 262 cubic inch V8. This was the engine tested by Road & Track and it was good for a whopping 110 HP. Remember, V8s struggled big time to make power back in those days.
In 1976, the Monza saw the 262 replaced with a 305 cubic inch V8 that made 145 HP and 245 lb-ft of torque in 49 states and 135 HP and 240 lb-ft of torque in California. This would be the hottest engine placed in the Monza’s engine bay.
At the 10th Annual Galpin Car Show, I met a reader who said he had a Monza worth calling a Holy Grail. I apologize for forgetting your name, dear reader, but you told me that the Monza to rule them all was not the 305, but the 350 cubic inch V8.
Update: The reader was none other than Alec! Thank you so much!
Not only was this the largest engine put into the Monza, but it was also sold for just a single year in 1975. How does something like this happen? Well, the 262 was not certified for California, so GM chose a V8 engine that was and landed on the 350.
This engine was slightly hotter than the 262 and offered 125 HP and 235 lb-ft of torque. That was with a two-barrel carburetor. Our reader says the Monza community believes there are exactly two Monza 350s out there that were hopped up when new with four-barrel carburetors, but I wasn’t able to confirm this.
But what I can tell you is that it’s believed there are only 3,699 Monzas with the 350, which is impressive as a total of 731,504 Monzas were built over its six-model year production run. Our reader notes that the 350 is coveted in the Monza community and those who want more power don’t tend to have too many troubles as the 350 is quite receptive to tuning. I’ve seen some hopped-up 350-swapped Monzas claiming well over 300 HP.
It also looks like you’ll be able to find one of these for under $10,000. The problem will be just finding one for sale. It’s not hard to find a Monza for sale, but finding a 1975 with a factory 350 seems to be a challenge. As it is there weren’t many made. Who knows how many have survived to the modern day?
I’m also warned that it’s not all burnouts and power once you tune things. Remember that the Monza was originally designed to hold a Wankel, not a chunky V8. The difficulty of basic maintenance was such a big deal it was the subject of an article in the New York Times, from the newspaper:
The plug is very close to the steering column and sometimes the engine has to be lifted as much as one‐half inch in order to remove the plug, a spokesman said. “It would be easier to jack up the horn button and put whole new car under it,” said one disgruntled Chevrolet dealer service manager who did not want to he identified.
That doesn’t sound fun! But, if you can put up with maintenance that would make a modern Volkswagen blush, it sounds like you’ll be getting an underrated ’70s coupe. The Monza has gotten old enough that just seeing one still rolling around will be special enough, then you’ll pop open the hood and reveal that surprisingly large engine in a small car. Just, don’t think about the spark plugs.
Do you know of or own a car, bus, motorcycle, or something else worthy of being called a ‘holy grail’? Send me an email at mercedes@theautopian.com or drop it down in the comments!
(Images: General Motors, unless otherwise noted.)
I’d like to drop a Miata engine in a Vega or monza someday.
The V8 Vega test mule for this car sits in
The Shed, a car museum in Warroad. MN owned by Bob Marvin of the Marvin Windows family. Part of a collection that probably rivals Leno’s in terms of muscle cars. He has every Yenko & COPO model they ever made up there. Worth the trip!
In 1978, my sister bought a new Monza (OK dad bought it), and I got her ’72 Vega as a hand me down (she had gotten it a year before from my uncle). It was a great car and a horrible car at the same time. I replaced the completely rusted out fenders, and the thing burned oil so bad that a blue cloud would surround me at traffic lights (kind of embarrassing). But it was my first car. It represented freedom, it was a manual and fun to drive. I’m not sure if it had good handling or decent acceleration, because I was 16, and my frame of reference was the other cars in the household: my brother’s 74 C10, my mom’s 74 Sedan DeVille, and an old ’60 CJ5 we had. While I liked having my own car, I couldn’t wait at the time to move on to bigger and better. Looking back on the cars I have owned over my lifetime, it is probably the 1st one I would spend stupid money to re-acquire.
The gearhead kid across the street from me had a Monza, back when I was 15 or so. I remember being impressed by the V-8, and I think he bought it mostly out of curiosity. What I really remember about it is that it was a piece of garbage, and he didn’t hold onto it for long.
I had a 72 Vega with a 283 sbc in high school. The biggest problem was that with the Monza rear end, it has 2.73 gears. Slow off the line but incredible top speed. I’m sure the Monza would have woken up with a simple gear swap.
I remember helping a friend change the plugs on his Monza in high school. It was not as bad as the NYT made it sound. If memory serves me, we undid the motor mounts, put a floor jack under the pan with a 2×4 support and went at it. Total time was less than an hour. Definitely not a chore for your average driveway mechanic but certainly not a nightmare.
When I was stationed at DLI in Monterey – one of the guys in the dorms had a Monza Landau Coupe. It was apparently purchased new by a Dr according to the nameplate in the car. Probably not a very good Dr…
What an incredibly craptastic drive – it didn’t help that the seats were so low to the floor – because the roof was low too? It felt like you were driving a deep bathtub.
After these, the J Cars (my experiences with them were a Pontiac J2000 sedan and a Buick Skyhawk T-Type coupe) were a breath of fresh air.
I had a ’75 Coupe with the 262 and auto in High School thru College. It was a turd, but did survive long enough that I was able to trade it in on my first new car after college. I got $500 trade in for it on a brand new ’84 Mazda 626 two-door 5-speed. Man, I thought I had won the Lotto!
I remember my 95 S10 with the 4.3L V6 had a spark plug/steering column access issue as well. Some things never change with the General.
Articles like this always remind me how craptastic cars were in the “good ol days”. It seems that rose colored glasses tend to make people forget how slow actually were, how crappy they were built, and how the life span of an average daily was less than 10yrs and 100,000 miles.
One did not need the 350. I had a friend who had the ’76 sedan version with a 4 speed in it. We did “P” on the MPH label on the speedometer on the highway one night. Issues with the car were, as I recall, an 8 Inch clutch and a motor you needed to raise off the motor mounts to get to a couple of spark plugs.
Wow, this jolted free a long-forgotten memory. I worked at a quicky oil change place (Lube It All!) in HS. The owner was a car guy and didn’t mind us working on projects after hours. It wasn’t ideal (no lift) but it was still pretty great.
I bought a Monza (’78?) from a friend with a knocking 4 cylinder the summer before college. I somehow connected with a guy who had crashed a V8 Monza and he sold me all the stuff from it minus the engine. IIRC, that meant trans, rear, driveshaft, exhaust, radiator, etc. Then I bought a running 305 that we yanked out of some guy’s Firebird in the parking lot. It took most of a summer to cobble it all together but it did run and I did some huge burnouts. I had quite a long conversation with a local police officer regarding some shenanigans.
Sold it at a loss at the end of the summer. The guy who bought it from me got it into the 14s at the local drag strip, which wasn’t horrendous in the late 80s.
A couple years later, I had a roommate with a stock, original V8/auto Monza. I was shocked at how slow it was.