Ringbrothers unveils its 1,000-hp Chevelle 'Recoil' at the SEMA Show

The brothers Ring produce a outrageous 1966 Chevelle with a wild interior

 

This Ringbrothers "Recoil" Chevelle you see here, debuting at SEMA, was the first build Chris McPhie commissioned. At first, he didn't know what he wanted. He called up his friends, Jim and Mike Ring, whom he first met here three years ago. Humble Midwestern stock. The brothers Ring said, "we're gonna build you a Mustang."
No way, said McPhie. No you're not.
McPhie runs a successful group of franchised used-car dealerships — successful enough to net him a small car collection, from a 1969 Camaro to a Lamborghini Aventador. He even owned a previous Ringbrothers project, the "Bailout" Mustang. (Looks like the Rings had already convinced him.) He had always wanted a 1966 Chevrolet Chevelle, notchback, the kind of Chevelle usually overlooked by mad numbers-matching SS396 enthusiasts. There's still majesty in those early A-Bodies. After talking with them, possibly sharing a few beers, he had the bright idea: let them build him the ultimate Chevelle.
"I didn't want a car that was close to what I wanted," said McPhie. "I wanted exactly what I wanted."
For the tiny Ringbrothers shop in Spring Green, Wisconsin, that has captured the attention of the custom-car world as much as any Icon or Singer, the ultimate Chevelle—that would be no problem.
McPhie made the call. Four days later, the Rings found a Chevelle: a blue example, with a 350, that had been liberated from an amateur enthusiast who had semi-restored it. A good base from which to start.
Chris told the Rings that he wanted to keep it minimalistic. Nothing Nike, like the Pantera, as good as that was. Give it a race-car feel. Those two things go hand-in-hand, it turns out. Handmade seats! Carbon fiber accents! Oh, and make it fast as all hell!
Jim and Mike Ring got to work.

Two years later, they ended up at SEMA, again.
This was the first time Chris had seen the finished car, said Jim. No photos, no leaks, just one deliberately vague rendering. "I'm scared to death," he said. Then, with his brother, they pulled the cover off.
A pewter sled in carbon fiber. A gasp from the crowd, before Jim took the mic and announced the specs—there's an LS7, as there always seems to be in these things, with nearly a thousand horsepower ("Jesus," muttered someone from the crowd) from a Whipple supercharger by Wegner Motorsports. A Tremec T56 Magnum six-speed manual is paired with a John’s Industries Ford 9-inch rear end. The wheels are custom HRE "Recoil" three-piece, 19 inches up front and 20 in back. The carbon fiber is weaved with polished copper wire, and it gleams in the light. Even the headliner is carbon.
"There's been so much done to this car that we don't remember it," said Mike.
The interior is unlike any custom car yet: the floors are entirely hydro-dipped aluminum, they aren't so much seats as they are individual cushions, supported by tubing and flat, drilled sheets of aluminum—like the Eames had designed a Blackhawk's jumpseats. They're not so much coddling as they are unique. "Only material where you want it," said Jim. "[Chris] was adamant that he wanted something minimal, yet racy. I'm not sure if we did it—"
"Oh, you sure did," said Chris.

Every Ringbrothers car ups the ante of the previous one, and reflects just how much the humble shop has learned since commanding the world stage. The ADRNLN Pantera seemed to hit an apex: so much craftsmanship and detail in its split-tone interior, paired with such a lofty collaboration in Nike, that it would seem damned near impossible to top. And the Chevelle, always a working man's family sedan, could never hold the attention of a searing yellow Pantera.
But the interior is, in our opinion, so devoted to the ragged edge of function that it verges on architecture. And if all else fails, a thousand horsepower is the easiest way to make anyone sit up.
"We just wanted to do what the owner was excited about," said Mike. Perhaps they are being modest.