I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
—Robert Frost, The Road Not Taken
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
—Robert Frost, The Road Not Taken
At the risk of upending a hundred years of
literary history as we come upon the centenary of the above poem, we
think Robert Frost may have been heading the wrong way. Where he sees a
split path, we see a merge, the inevitability of coming together. Does
the path diverge in the wood, or does it converge in the same place?
With all due respect to Mr. Frost, it's a question of perspective.
It is convergence that interests us today,
rather than its divisive corollary; without the proper elements coming
together, this remarkable Toyota Crown could never have happened. Now,
"remarkable" and "Toyota Crown" don't often show up together in
sentences; by all indications, the Crown was anything but remarkable.
But this one, updated in modern accoutrement and brought back to vibrant
life, is properly described.
The heart of this convergence begins with the
people involved. Janet Fujimoto: longtime Toyota employee, and
longer-time car enthusiast, with four S20-powered S13 Nissans, a pair of
tweaked Honda S2000s, a pair of Toyota MR2 Turbos, and another pair of
spotless hachiroku in her high-performance past. She's also a wild
creative spirit who dreams big and demands bigger, requires the closest
earthly approximation to perfection as is possible, and has an
impeccable eye for detail. Duane Tomono: a man who builds raw power with
his bare hands, a man who turns ideas into kinetic, high-powered 3-D
sculpture. A lifelong fan of American steel, with more than 100 builds
to his credit, he still harbors a '69 Chevy Camaro Z/28 in his garage
and has had cars grace the covers of both Car Craft and Hot Rod magazines (both sister publications in Super Street owner TEN's stable of titles) over time.
Their paths were forged independently, and each
is a creative force to be reckoned with in their own right. Put them
together, combine their talents and their outlooks and their
experiences, and unexpected things happen. Like Pro Touring Toyota Crown
sedans. Janet knows what she wants; Duane has the talent to make it
happen. (Or, as Janet puts it brightly, "I twist his arm, and he does
'em for me.") The result is staring you in the face on these pages.
That concept: a Pro Touring-style MS55 sedan
that kept as many Toyota pieces as possible, while still offering the
necessary performance upgrades. "Duane is more into muscle cars, and I
love Japanese cars," Janet explains. "We gave a Toyota that muscle car
vibe."
True, the Crown was about the size of a Dodge
Dart, Ford Maverick, or AMC Hornet when these were all contemporaries,
but it's not fair to call the Crown "American-sized"—small cars were
still the exception, not the norm, out of Detroit. But the build
overview reads like a street rodding who's who of components. Vintage
Air, for the modern R134a-filled compressor and full HVAC system.
Painless Wiring, to undo the crispy factory spaghetti throughout the
donor's body and to make things simple and clean. AutoMeter gauges
filling the stock holes in the dash. Magnaflow muffler with a
glasspack—a metal tube with a thin strand of fiberglass that vibrates
off the exhaust flow—as a resonator. Dynamat insulation to keep things
quiet. An Optima gel-cel battery. All of them longtime, established
names in the world of hot rodding. None of them, save for perhaps
AutoMeter and Optima, are household names in tuner-car circles. "Because
a lot of people only do imports, they may see cool things but don't
understand the meaning behind it," Janet says.
Once Janet had her concept sketched out, the
search was on for a donor car. Material was thin on the ground and the
result was, to say the least, intimidating: a clean sedan became
available, with glass and most of the body panels, but no driveline and
no nose to speak of (fenders, hood, grille, bumper). The good news: no
rust. The bad news: practically every panel needed to be straightened.
"They always look bad in the beginning," Janet tells us, "but I'm
confident that Duane can transform it into my vision."
Now, finding parts for a 45-year-old sedan isn't
quite the same as finding parts for, say, an S13 240SX, or frankly any
other performance car of interest built in the last two decades: You
can't just pop down to the boneyard and start pulling parts, or head to
the dealer and see what Crown bits are collecting dust on a shelf.
What's more, while there's a thriving catalog business for '60s American
cars and trucks of most descriptions—even some of the more obscure and
workaday ones—there isn't a central source (even in Japan) where you can
buy the acres of trim and brightwork necessary to make an MS55 Crown
look new again. Janet beat the bushes for two years to get all of the
parts needed to make her Crown whole again, searching as far as Japan
and Australia for the right pieces. "And every piece we got had to be
worked on—that car has about 140 pieces of stainless on it," Duane says.
That which could not be found was simply made.
Janet adds, "They're old cars, and no matter
what parts you find, they're never perfect. The thing I really like,
people are so nice, and in that community, people will always help. If
they have something, they're happy to share. We do the same." Even so,
Duane tried to convince Janet that de-chroming the body might be the way
to go—for that monochrome Euro-look vibe—but Janet stuck to her guns.
Duane tells us, "'With the color I want to paint it [a custom-mix
gunmetal gray], the chrome will look better,' she said. She was right!"
While Janet was busy sourcing brightwork and
some other more crucial components, Duane started the technical end of
things with the suspension. They wanted coilover suspension to get the
right stance, but of course no one makes coilovers for an MS55 Crown;
the result is a custom setup using QA1 parts, with mounts fabricated by
Duane and geometry calculated to offer a smooth ride and decent steering
ability, too. While he was under there, he trimmed the standard Toyota
axle (and its stock 4.11 gearing) by 3/4 of an inch on each side for
clearance, but kept the pumpkin's guts intact. Brakes are Brembo, with
12.3-inch crossdrilled rotors and four-piston calipers in front, with
12.7-inch rotors and two-piston calipers in back; both hubs and caliper
brackets were custom CNC'd by Duane to make 'em fit the Crown chassis.
The frame, he notes, didn't need any fortification to accommodate the
doubling of power that would soon come, and neither body nor chassis
required any relieving to accommodate the 18" Enkei wheels and Yokohama
rubber.
Crowns, despite their luxury status at home,
weren't available with power steering on the MS55 generation—something
available on American cars since the '50s—so it wasn't just affixing a
power-steering pump to the engine's accessory drive; it was finding a
power-steering box that would work. Janet managed to come up with one:
They incorporated an '82 Corolla unit, fabricating mounts for the
chassis. "Nothing was available," Janet reminds us, "so we had to come
up with creative solutions."
Some would see the addition of Toyota's
venerable 2JZ (sourced from a '92 Lexus SC300, as was the three-speed
automatic trans) as a creative solution in and of itself: With an
aluminum head, sequential electronic fuel injection, and a couple of
decades of design improvements, the engine itself was rated roughly
double what came in the Crown to start with (possibly a little more,
thanks to the vagaries of gross/net horsepower ratings and emissions
considerations). But that doesn't mean that a new straight-six will just
slot in place of an old straight-six: Mounts needed to be fabricated,
and the stock oil pan was in conflict with the Crown's front
crossmember, so Janet sourced a Japanese-application oil pan that would
clear things. The air conditioning compressor and alternator are both
mounted low on the 2JZ, and Janet worried about maintenance issues of
things went wrong; rather than have to lift the engine out to change
'em, they were placed elsewhere, within easy reach.
The decision to stay normally aspirated boiled
down to clearance issues: There was no way to fit the turbo and make
everything fit in the Crown's chassis. "With a turbo, there would be no
room for air conditioning, a trans cooler, power steering...it came down
to, did we want a race car, or a cool hot-rod restomod that you can
drive all day, every day? We went with driveability," Duane explains.
And even some of the aftermarket components needed to be tweaked: Two of
the main pipes in the OBX header had to be refabricated to clear the
chassis, and the downpipe would have gone straight into the frame had it
not been rerouted. The exhaust itself is a 2 1/2-inch mandrel-bent
pipe. For cooling, a Koyo aluminum radiator and Spal dual electric fans
are kept in place with custom brackets—the top ones are made of titanium.
The desert-rat interior had to be redone—but
rather than go the radical route, with rock-hard buckets sporting
lumbar-grabbing bolsters, she opted for a softer approach—one that kept
much of the original furniture intact. "We had original door panels that
we made look like new. The seats are the original Crown buckets, but
reupholstered, and the headrests are original Crown headrests with Crown
emblems. We couldn't find a dash pad, so we made an all-metal dash top.
The original gauge cluster is still there, but AutoMeter gauges are
inside." And...the stock steering wheel? Janet laughs. "We debated going
aftermarket with the steering wheel, but this one had the Crown emblem
in the center. I liked that. It's very different than today's fatter
steering wheels."
As you read this, the Crown will be entered into
SEMA's annual Battle of the Builders, a top-level competition held each
year during the annual festivities in Las Vegas. Janet likes the
Crown's chances: "All the cars we do get totally redone, from bushings
to hardware. That's how we do all of 'em. We're both perfectionists,
Duane and I. The things I can't do, he does. Does that make us a good
team or a bad team?" The question hands in the air, unanswered. "We have
fun."
And so, with apologies to Mr. Frost,
I shan't be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads converged in a wood, and aye,
Crown companion by their side,
I say that has made a difference.
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads converged in a wood, and aye,
Crown companion by their side,
I say that has made a difference.
A Brief History of the Toyota Crown in America
In America, Toyota's Crown is a curiosity and a
footnote—it's an outlier, a biggish sedan in a field of economy cars.
But at home, the Crown is a legend.
Japan, in the 1950s, was full of undeveloped
roads. Homegrown cars were frequently air-cooled twins of no more than
360cc in displacement, and they were built for roads that rivaled that
bouncy house at your niece's sixth birthday party in terms of
smoothness. Any car was a luxury in those days—motorbikes were far
cheaper and more efficient. The few locally built cars were largely
built from complete knock-down (CKD) kits, like Isuzu-built Hillmans and
Hino-built Renaults. Toyota's Crown was the first Japanese car that was
designed and engineered entirely in Japan; for this reason alone, the
Crown was (and remains) a source of enormous pride for both the company
and the country.
When it launched in 1955, the Crown was king
among kings in the world of Japanese cars. The first Crown (designated
S30) was not much bigger than today's Corolla, but it was still a
massive step up from the bikes and trikes that populated Japanese roads
then. If you had a Crown, you had arrived. Indeed, the Crown's image was dictated largely from the back seat—if you could afford a Crown, you could afford a driver, too.
Toyota brought the Crown came to the States in
1958. Its chassis was just five inches wider and longer between the
wheels than a Beetle, one of the top imported cars of the era, yet
Toyota outrageously claimed that it seated six in comfort. Styling was
American lite—upright, with ample filigree but with a tall greenhouse
that belied its small-car proportions. Sixty horsepower out of a 1.5L
engine sounded good at a time when VW made just 36 hp out of its 1.2L.
But even with a 5.2-geared final drive, the 2,650-pound Crown strained
to reach to 60mph in 26 seconds; the quarter-mile arrived in
23.5 clicks. That's right, the first Crown couldn't hit 60 mph through
the quarter-mile traps. Top speed was 80 mph, or so it was claimed.
Crown wasn't cheap: when a base 1,200cc VW was $1,545, Toyota charged
nearly $2,000 for a Crown. Sales, as you might imagine, were terrible:
just 287 were sold in 1958.
A larger engine in the early '60s couldn't
rescue the S30 Crown, and it was soon pulled from the U.S. market
altogether in favor of the lighter, sprightlier Tiara sedan as well as
the Land Cruiser off-roader. But rather than give up, Toyota figured out
what America wanted. The result? The all-new S40 Crown for 1962. It was
larger in all dimensions, yet weighed the same as the S30. Toyota's
full-line sales grew, though it must be said it was largely on the back
of the Tiara: from just 1,100 cars in 1963 to twice that in '64, to
6,400 cars in '65 to a whopping 20,000-plus in '66 (the brand-new
Corona, taking over for the Tiara, was the reason why). America couldn't
care less, but the more "American" the Crown became, the more the
Japanese lapped it up; a six-cylinder variant arrived in 1965, and broke
the thousand-unit sales mark for the first time here in the U.S.
Crown grew again in 1967: the S50, and
face-lifted MS55, generation rode a 105.9-inch wheelbase, and for the
first time had an all-aluminum 2.3L OHC straight-six under the hood,
making 115 hp and 127 lb-ft of torque. "A good, solid, sensible
machine," said Road and Track. "In many ways, it reminds us of
the small Mercedes sedans in that both are solid and rattle-free and
both have that completely honest no-nonsense look and feel about them."
It also cost a dollar a pound: $2,899 in 1970, about $400 more than a
comparably sized (and powered) Slant-6 Dodge Dart. Yet despite this
price disparity, the S50 Crown was by far the most successful version of
the nameplate on U.S. shores: More than 22,000 S50-generation Crowns
(like the one Duane built for Janet) were sold in the US.
But it wasn't enough. In the U.S., with the
Corona and Corolla, Toyota was gaining a reputation for solid little
gas-sipping cars that were tremendous value. Corolla was priced
comparably to a Beetle, offering solid build quality with better room,
power, and amenities. The Crown seemed increasingly out of place in a
value-priced lineup, and by 1972, shortly after a bizarro-world restyle
and a price tag flirting with $3,000, the Crown disappeared from our
shores. A six-cylinder Corona Mk II seemed more palatable to the
American public, and finally the six-cylinder Cressida would appear in
Toyota's American lineup in the late '70s; both cars took the Crown's
place in Toyota's lineup in their time, and the Crown never returned.
What Is Pro Touring?
Pro Touring was coined in the mid-1990s to
describe the then-new phenomenon of making a car from the '50s and '60s
behave like a new (i.e., '90s) car—using modern technology to enhance
performance while simultaneously making it more street-friendly,
offering better ride/handling combinations and driver comfort. Ex-Car Craft, Hot Rod, and Chevy High Performance
editor Jeff Smith came up with the term. In those days, American iron
was often tweaked for its ultimate quarter-mile abilities—recall the Pro
Street movement of the '80s; this makes for a compromised ride on the
street. Pro Touring is a more balanced approach that improves power and
speed while also adding handling ability and over-the-road comfort into
the mix; it put 1990s feel and technology into a classic shell.
Pro Touring cars are meant to be driven—whether
gobbling up cross-country miles in comfort, or being taken on track
days. In the mid-'90s, programmable fuel-injection and greater use of
Overdrive transmissions allowed greater efficiency and power, more
modern wheel-tire combinations, and suspension tweaks added bracing
cornering to a compliant ride, and you could idle all day in traffic
with the air conditioning on and not have to worry about puking coolant
or triggering vapor lock. The bodywork was largely left stock, save for
perhaps choice of paint, or an added-on hood or trunk wing; the popular
pastels and graphics of the early '90s made way for factory-style paint
colors and trim.
In short, with Pro Touring, American car guys do
to their cars what Super Streeters have been doing to theirs for the
last twenty years or so. With Janet Fujimoto's Crown sedan, it seems the
trend has come full circle.
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