Sometimes, you see something that grabs your attention for multiple reasons. This 1990 Chevrolet 454 SS pickup truck did just that.

Hard to imagine, but this 1990 Chevrolet 454 SS truck has 46 miles on it. (Photo: Mecum Auctions website)

Yes, the Chevrolet 454 SS is uncommon. Fewer than 14,000 were built in this, its first year of production.

Even crazier, this Chevrolet 454 SS is practically new. Despite its age, it has only 46 miles on the odometer, all by the original owner.

Perhaps just as zany: This monster crossed the block at Mecum Auctions in Houston on April 5 and was a no-sale at $75,000.

This muscle truck sent my brain scrambling back to when I was a young automotive journalist for MuscleCars magazine in Saddle Brook, New Jersey. We also published Vette, High Performance Pontiac, and Muscle Mustangs & Fast Fords magazines, which became a nearly 300-page monthly cash cow for the company.

As the new guy on staff, I was often charged with picking up magazine test vehicles from the manufacturers. Chevrolets were stored in the old Coliseum Garage at Columbus Circle in Manhattan. Typically, the cars would be scheduled for pick up around noon, but were rarely ready until around 4 p.m. They came with a press kit, a copy of the window sticker, and the fuel topped off. They were detailed inside and out.

Being professionals we were, we treated every trip back through the Lincoln Tunnel or over the George Washington Bridge like it was the start of the Cannonball Run and we had to make it to Los Angeles in under 30 hours.

Good times, good times.

(Coliseum Garage is long gone, but the former editor of Vette and I still think there are brand-new C4s stashed away there. The guy who managed the fleet seemed loathe to put them in service, lest they get mileage on them. Or maybe he didn’t trust us with them.)

Your Mission, Should You Accept …

My assignment on this particular Friday was to ride into the city with a co-worker, grab Chevrolet’s newest performance vehicle, in this instance the 454 SS truck, and write my impressions in the three-ring binder we used for such evaluations. Also, bring the truck to the office Monday morning without a scratch, as it had to be photographed and tested later that week.

No wear anywhere.

As it was picked up at rush hour on Friday, the truck was mine for the weekend. It was big and bad and black as could be. It was also immaculate inside, outside and upside down.

The Rat motor’s 385 lb-ft of torque was all yours by 1,900 rpm. The 3.73 gears really helped move the mass of that truck. Every single time you matted the throttle, four things happened: 1. The throttle body made a massive sucking sound, which reminded us of a toilet flushing. 2. The tires spun and smoked and clawed for traction. 3. You got pinned to the red cloth seat with a goofy grin on your face. 4. The fuel gauge went down noticably toward “E.”

With 3.73s and no overdrive, the 454 SS liked to rev on the highway. Between this and my spirited driving antics, it sucked down fuel like it was still 30 cents a gallon.

Attach Of The Squeegee People

True confessions: Getting out of New York City and back to Jersey with a clean truck was not easy. This was the height of the squeegee people era, who washed your windshield with filthy rags soaked in who-knows-what without asking and expected you to tip them for the privilege of defiling your ride. I found revving the engine and a burnout while sitting at a traffic light was an effective way of scaring the squeegee people from coming near your ride. I think the black paint helped, too. The truck looked evil.

Striking fear into the hearts of squeegee people everywhere was this ominous front end.

I took that obsidian truck everywhere that weekend, including a trip south to Rutgers for a college basketball game. I must have flushed the toilet two dozen times, both from a standstill and while passing people on the highway.

I filled up the tank for the first time before going to bed that night.

Saturday meant lots of cruising around during the day, then heading to West Jersey for some curvy mountain roads. I was having a ball, leaving my twin black calling cards every place I could.

I filled the tank again on Sunday.

I was averaging tire-frying six mpg. Mind you, the 454 SS was EPA-rated at 10 mpg city and 11 highway, so yeah, I was perhaps a little overzealous in my throttle application. But this was serious magazine testing, by gosh, by golly, by gum, by gee.

Sunday was more of the same, with perhaps — perhaps — some stoplight grand prix thrown in for good measure.

How Did The 454 SS Measure Up?

I topped up the tank for the last time on Monday when I got to the office. I handed the trio of fuel receipts to our office manager, who just about fainted. She treated every expense like it was coming out of her pocked and immediately went to the owner/publisher, who was (shall we say) the frugal sort. Keep in mind, three fill-ups were usually a week’s worth for the average test car.

What could I say? I was three times as good as the other journalists. Besides, that was a big furnace to keep lit. I understood why large displacement engines were going the way of the dodo bird in the days of Corporate Average Fuel Economy.

In a way, the 454 SS was disappointing. Anything that gets six mpg should run 13s at least, and probably 12s. Ours ran (if memory serves) 15.9 at about 87 mph. She was all about torque and completely out of breath by 4,500 rpm. We didn’t test for 0-60 mph, but it was not all that great. The 7.4-liter engine was simply underdeveloped.

More true confessions: It was not me who bid on the Mecum Auction truck to $75,000. I had fun in our 1990 Chevrolet 454 SS test truck, but not that much fun. It would be a blast to build a tribute to it, though, one with a supercharger or turbo or two. What do you think?