In amongst the approximately 11 billion emails I've been receiving about various horribly modified cars on display at this year's SEMA aftermarket equipment show in Las Vegas was a missive from Ford and Hot Wheels.
Powerless to resist, I actually read it.
It's a problem I have, one that's been further enabled by the fact that I'm now a father. No power in the universe can stop me from peeking through a Hot Wheels display to see if there's anything good hanging on those little pegs - I know they're not for adults really, but, I mean, it says "ages three and up." C'mon! Technically, I qualify as "up," right? Plus these days I can always say that they're for my daughter, who mostly just tries to eat them.
Anyway, turns out Ford and Hot Wheels got together and turned one of the former's smallish Transit Connect vans into a mobile Hot Wheels racetrack, including drawers to hold all your collections, and of course touchscreens, TV screens, and unfeasibly large rims. That's not the best part.
Tucked in the press release was a little tidbit that was truly staggering. Hot Wheels claims to have passed four billion of their little cars sold. Four billion! Every kid in the world could have one - and a lot of the grown-up kids too! This year marks the 45th anniversary of the Hot Wheels company, so I sat down and did a little research. Turns out the sheer number of these things now on the planet is only half the tale.
When Hot Wheels was formed in 1968, parent company Mattel was already doing well. With the Barbie line introduced a decade earlier, gender specific play was beginning to be laid out - girls played with dolls, boys with cars and action figures. Of course, these days no such rules exist, which is handy as it allows me to buy many, many toys "for my daughter."
Sixteen models were introduced at launch, the very first being a dark blue Chevy Camaro. The construction was simple, a die-cast body with a wire axle. Tires were plastic and painted with a red circular pinstripe, and a very lowfriction type of plastic called Delrin was used as a bushing between axle and wheel. The scale was set at 1/64, and off the little cars went to the races.
The main competition was the British Matchbox cars, already well established and dominant in the marketplace. However, Hot Wheels had a few things going for them.
First, they were brighter than the Matchbox offerings, all lit up with Spectraflame paint. Secondly, they were based on American hot rods and customs, stuff Matchbox simply didn't make. And lastly, they were fast, the low friction plastic making them capable of a to-scale 200 miles per hour.
Their success was near instant, and it caught a few folks by surprise. Notably, the man who designed that first Camaro and 11 of the 16 first Hot Wheels quit in the first year because he didn't think the company would get off the ground.
Harry Bentley Bradley was that pioneer's name, but when Hot Wheels asked him back in 1969, he'd already gone back into the full-size car industry. Happily, he recommended a man named Ira Gilford who had just left Chrysler.
Gilford would go on to design some of the greatest, most iconic Hot Wheels ever made, including the two-engined Twin Mill. It was the start of something that Hot Wheels would always do best: rather than just modelling existing cars, the company would come up with wild and crazy designs, the kind a kid might spend a happy afternoon sketching in the margins of a notepad. Hot Wheels understood the power of the imagination.
It was about this time that the most expensive Hot Wheels ever made was produced. With the VW Bus a popular '60s icon, Hot Wheels set about making a faithful reproduction. To give a little extra flair, a pair of surfboards was molded sticking out of the back window. Gnarly, but there was a problem.
The Beach Bomb, as it was called, was too heavy and narrow for those orange tracks. The centre of gravity needed to be lowered by careful engineering and - wait, are we still talking about toy cars here?
The second generation of the Beach Bomb had the roof cut away to shed weight and a widened track for better on-track performance. Still rare, one of these in good condition could be worth up to $800.
However, it was a version of that first prototype that holds the record. A few of these were made and given to Mattel employees. Two of those were pink, a girl's colour on a boy's toy, and therefore a rarity. One recently sold at auction for more than $70,000.
By the mid '70s, Hot Wheels were still cool while the iron that Detroit was pumping out was decidedly not. Six-wheeled Gremlins, twin-engined Vee-Dubs - whatever crazy thing the designers could think up, they made. The first motorbikes arrived, and the red-striped wheels faded out.
The '80s saw the first collector conventions start up, and the introduction of regular cars as opposed to wild customs. You could buy the same sort of car your parents drove and race it against an F1 car. The first Hot Wheels started showing up in McDonald's Happy Meals, and in cereal boxes.
Treasure hunt cars started shortly afterwards - these are limited-run editions that are released one per month. Collectors go nuts.
But that's not really what's the best part about these little cars. Collecting them isn't what's caused so many to be sold, nor what inspires car designers to compete to have their creation made into a Hot Wheels. It's not why a fullsize Twin Mill was revealed at the 2001 SEMA show.
The fact is, for somewhere between 99 cents and two bucks, there's not much else out there that can fit in a pocket yet unleash a child's imagination. They soak up all kinds of abuse, and just keep begging for more. A kid can take one anywhere.
A Hot Wheels turns the world into a racetrack, your own personal racetrack. Even if it's just sitting on your desk, reminding you of a simpler time, it's a special thing.
Brendan McAleer is a freelance writer and automotive enthusiast. If you have a suggestion for a column, or would be interested in having your car club featured, please contact him at mcaleeronwheels@gmail. com. Follow Brendan on Twitter: @brendan_mcaleer.
