426 Hemi - what makes this V8 engine so revered

[moparedtn]

Dunno about anyone else, but I can still remember my first ride in a Street Hemi.
'66 Charger, solid but pretty much gutted. Car had ridiculous gears for the street and when
the driver/owner climbed up on the loud pedal, it was unlike anything else I've ever heard
or felt. Even though we were at road speed already, that car LAUNCHED.
I was mesmerized...

There's many engines out there in the world that have distinctive sounds to them - but nothing,
I mean NOTHING - sounds like a Hemi at full song, climbing up through the revs and sounding
like there's no limits!
It's freaking harmonious, I tell ya. A religious experience even.
If you've never experienced one, even if you don't think they're "all that" - get a ride, just once,
in one and then tell me what you think.

 

[1STMP]

My first ride at the mercy of a hemi. My former
boss was a Mopar fanatic. A 1968 GTX (hemi),
1969 Charger RT (440 six pack), 1969 Dodge Dart
GT (340) graced his stable. Though the hemi
sang a glorious tune, the 440 six pack was the
(faster) car. All three I would have been proud to
own.
The high wind of the 340 made it the (funnest)
of the three to drive in close quarter traffic.

 

[68BabyBlue]

Dunno about anyone else, but I can still remember my first ride in a Street Hemi.
'66 Charger, solid but pretty much gutted. Car had ridiculous gears for the street and when
the driver/owner climbed up on the loud pedal, it was unlike anything else I've ever heard
or felt. Even though we were at road speed already, that car LAUNCHED.
I was mesmerized...

There's many engines out there in the world that have distinctive sounds to them - but nothing,
I mean NOTHING - sounds like a Hemi at full song, climbing up through the revs and sounding
like there's no limits!
It's freaking harmonious, I tell ya. A religious experience even.
If you've never experienced one, even if you don't think they're "all that" - get a ride, just once,
in one and then tell me what you think.

I came late to the party, but 50 some years after it started, I finally arrived. Ed's description captures the mystique in its entirety. In January of 1970, Clark Motor Company, the Plymouth dealer in State College, had not just one, but two Hemi Road Runners in stock, a '68 that had just been traded on a 440 six pack 'Cuda, and a new '69 parked in the show room. I was already well versed in the engine's capabilities from my reading of sales brochures and magazine road tests of the era, but these two Hemi cars were the first I encounterd up close and personal.

My dad was in the process of ordering a new Valiant, trying to keep the payments under $80 per month. While he was in the office filling out the order form, I was outside gawking at the '68, which was priced at $2495, less than the sticker price of the frugality special my parents had selected. Julie Clark, who in reality ran the dealership, while her husband Bill was the owner of record, walked up to me and popped the hood on the Road Runner. She was a terrific salesperson, but that day, she wasn't trying to sell the car. Instead, she talked to me about life choices one had to make to own a machine of that stature, and how to do it in a financially prudent fashion.

Over the next five decades I tried to follow her advice, while six GTXs, all 440 cars, came and went. I loved every one of them, but ultimately, they were just stops along the way. Last June, when I pointed the Hemi onto I-81 in Virginia, and pushed the secondaries open, I knew the journey was complete, and I sensed Julie Clark nodding with approval. The car wears the license plate from that 1970 Valiant.