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Almost every car enthusiast has at least one brand or nameplate they can quote chapter and verse on — from the history, to the specs, to the obscure trivia. For you, it might be Ferrari, Porsche, even Honda or Nissan.
For me, it’s Shelby. You might think is odd for a peak Millennial growing up with Initial D and The Fast and the Furious, but Shelby had a pop culture renaissance in the ‘90s and early 2000s. Movies like the Gone in 60 Seconds remake, cartoons and anime like Riding Bean and The Gunsmith Cats, and video games like Gran Turismo introduced the Shelby mythos to Millennials. The Dodge Viper and Ford SVT Cobra populated bedroom wall posters and toy aisles — and my prepubescent brain knew they had some kind of connection to Shelby.
I don’t know how you couldn’t be fascinated with Shelbys. They’re rare. They’re menacing. They have pedigree. Despite often commanding ridiculous price tags, they somehow come off as blue-collar, even romantically ne’er-do-well. They conjure mental images of Jim Morrison blasting his 1967 GT500 through the desert while on some kind of psychedelic trip.
Shelby was my earliest fascination with cars, and I could recite the history of both the man and the vehicles long before I had a driver’s licence.

Still, I have to admit that even though I had both the model and bedroom wall poster (alongside a Viper and Cobra), I often forget about the short-lived and uber-rare Shelby Series 1 — like this example currently listed on AutoTrader and offered for sale through John Scotti Luxury Prestige in Kirkland, Que.
There is so much that’s right about this 1999 Shelby Series 1, not the least of which is the fact that more than 25 years on, it still looks contemporary — dare I say timeless. It looks fast standing still and like a modern interpretation of the classic Shelby American Cobra.
So, why is it so forgettable?
For starters, Shelby American only made 249 of them, this being car number 140, according to the VIN. While that gives the Series 1 a tsunami of collector car cred, it certainly didn’t help it permeate the membrane of popular culture past its inception.
You might assume the low production numbers could be explained by trying to keep things exclusive. But the truth was that the Series 1 had an incredibly troubled development, with Carroll Shelby being far less involved than he probably would have liked due to health complications as a result of his kidney and heart transplants.
Shelby was involved in the initial design of the Series 1, but the final vehicle would mostly be influenced by General Motors — specifically, Oldsmobile, which was a major backer of Shelby American at the time.
Trivia: Carroll Shelby claimed he first wanted to use an Oldsmobile engine in the original Cobra before landing on Ford — the same engine that would ultimately be used in the original Land Rover.

Oldsmobile supplied a brand-new V8 for the Series 1, the L47 Aurora, a 4.0-litre DOHC engine that produced 250 hp and 260 lb-ft of torque in the humdrum Oldsmobile Aurora sedan for which it was named.
It is kind of cool that, in 1999, you could buy a Viper, Mustang Cobra, or Series 1 — each with a direct connection to Carroll Shelby, and each from a different one of Detroit’s Big Three.
But one could argue that partnering with GM over Ford was a decision that would ultimately sink the Series 1.
For starters, Shelby American simply couldn’t use the Cobra name or logo because Ford owns it. But the big problem is, when you make a car with GM, it really doesn’t want you to make something faster than a Corvette.
Oldsmobile may have claimed it wanted to make a car “equal to the Corvette.” If sincere, it must have been pretty foolhardy, since GM has a history of kneecapping any product that rivals the Corvette.
More Trivia: This is a supreme irony, as the original Cobra was born of Carroll Shelby having something of a vendetta against the Corvette.

So while the Series 1, in some ways, goes back to Carroll Shelby’s very first idea for the Cobra, it perhaps misses the lightning in a bottle of the original Cobra, because it isn’t that marriage of Shelby and Ford. Anyone who creates for a living will tell you that sometimes, magic happens when things don’t work out the way you originally envisioned.
Shelby American buffed up the L47 to 320 hp and 290 lb-ft of torque. The engine was mounted directly behind the front axle and fed its power through a ZF six-speed transaxle, which all served to create a 50/50 weight distribution. Tests at the time praised the Series 1’s on-track performance, though it’s also within those early tests where hints of the Series 1’s production challenges were revealed.
The transaxle was difficult to rev-match. It was also prone to gear whine. And it would lock up the front wheels under heavy braking. And those were just the pre-production bugs.
Once push came to shove to actually start building the Series 1, Shelby American ran into issues with the bespoke aluminum chassis, which would warp as it cooled after being welded. Upgrading the process further added to costs and delays in manufacturing.

Also, in suppressing the Series 1’s performance, Oldsmobile withheld ECM tuning codes from Shelby, limiting the L47 to 320 hp, rather than its fully capable 350 hp. A proposal to supercharge the engine was apparently also nixed due to cost (and probably the Corvette).
The story ended rather messily, with Venture Industries (a holding company that purchased Shelby American) overseeing final quality assurance. When components like the convertible top wouldn’t pass muster, the company had to simply eat the costs, as some cars had already been sold. Even the painting process was a complete nightmare.
In the end, Carroll Shelby would buy the rights to the Series 1 back from Venture Industries and sell the vehicle as a kit car. Only 249 of the proposed 500 units were sold.
No Cobra badge. Limited numbers. Not a true competitor to the Corvette. It’s no wonder nobody remembers.
But it’s this wild story, and even the obscurity itself, that makes the Series 1 such an interesting and important chapter in the Shelby story.
This isn’t really a car you buy to drive and beat on. You buy it to preserve it and to appreciate the history and story behind it. It is so imperfect, so troubled, so aspirational, and so conversation-worthy, that it’s not so much a car as it is art.
Is a real-life Series 1 basically just a life-sized model? A 3D bedroom wall poster? You bet. And if you’re a real fan, that’s about as good as it gets.