Toyota began selling cars in the United States with the 1957 Crown, but mainstream sales success remained elusive until the appearance here of the third-generation Corona as a 1966 model.
The 1966-1970 Corona was cheap and reliable (in non-rusty climates, that is), and the following 1971-1973 Corona generation continued to fly out of American Toyota showrooms. The coupe versions weren’t so popular here, though, and I hopped on a California-bound 737 soon after learning about the appearance of today’s Junkyard Treasure in a boneyard near the Sierra foothills.
My very first car was a 1969 Toyota Corona Deluxe sedan in glorious faded beige, bought for 50 bucks in 1980. Today I own a chopped, shaved, slammed, Carson-top-equipped 1969 Toyota Corona coupe, which I am gradually making more street-capable (it was built as a pure show car that only had to be driven on and off a trailer). To help with that ongoing project, I was hoping to grab some bits off this ’71 to take home in my checked baggage.
The photo on Pick-n-Pull’s website made this car look rough, but I didn’t realize how rough until I saw it in person. The interior was full of black widow spiders and thick layers of rat droppings. I’ve seen nastier junkyard car interiors, but this one scored a high reading on the Ick-O-Meter.
Cars in coastal California generally don’t corrode too badly (unless they spend years parked a block or two from the Pacific), but this one appears to have spent its life in the Sierra Nevada mountains to the east of its final parking spot. That means it endured salty winter roads and annual immersions in deep snow.
I put on my mechanic’s gloves, tried not to think about hantavirus, and dug through the stuff inside until I found some magazines from 1980. The bias-ply tires appear to be of even earlier vintage and the body has a thick coating of moss and lichens, so I believe this car got parked in the Gold Country woods before it was 10 years old and never moved under its own power again.
I had hoped to grab some gauge mechanisms and other small electrical components, but moisture had penetrated everything during the decades of filling up with snow every winter. That’s a shame, because this factory AM/FM radio was a very expensive option in 1971 and a working one is worth real money today. The hood was rusted shut so solidly that even the Pick-n-Pull employees had given up on prying it open.
I didn’t leave empty-handed, though. This authentic early-1970s-vintage “TRY IT IN A TOYOTA” license plate frame was the response to the popular “DO IT IN A DATSUN” frames of the era (though there was at least one novelty song about getting it on in a Subaru, I don’t recall any license plate frame slogans for Pleiades-badged machinery back then). I had to own this frame, so I bought it and will apply it either to my Corona coupe or to my Lexus LS 400.
These RT90 Corona coupes are much-sought-after by fans of vintage Japanese cars today, but this one is just too far gone for restoration. Some glass, chrome, and plastic bits might be in good enough shape to be useful on a car in better condition.
Because I knew I’d be photographing a Japanese car of early-1970s vintage, I brought along a Japanese film camera of the same era: a Kalimar 44, known as the Anny 44 in its homeland. This very affordable camera was made for 127 film, which I buy in bulk and roll myself.
The rest of the Kalimar shots may be found in the gallery.