Aluma Coupe: The Hot Rod That Broke the Mold

Jan 09, 2025

#Featured

Imagine this: you're cruising at 35,000 feet, halfway between Detroit and Southern California, and instead of ordering the in-flight peanuts, you pull out a sketchbook and start designing a hot rod. That's exactly what Cadillac designer Larry Erickson did back in 1991. By the time the wheels touched down, he’d dreamed up something unlike any hot rod before it — a futuristic, mid-engine homage to the Pierson Brothers' '34 Ford coupe and Art Chrisman’s chopped ‘30 Ford Model A coupe. Enter the Aluma Coupe.

This wasn't just a pipe dream scribbled on the back of a napkin, though. Erickson had pedigree. He was fresh off the CadZZilla project, a stunning custom Cadillac that he designed alongside legendary rod builder Boyd Coddington. But the Aluma Coupe? This was the next level.

Originally envisioned as a roadster with an American V8 growling up front, things took a radical turn when Mitsubishi — yes, the same company that makes the Outlander — got wind of the project. Their head of product planning, Ron Kusumi, wanted a car that could showcase some serious Mitsubishi muscle at the time. Forget big block V8s, they wanted to prove that a screaming, turbocharged four-cylinder could hold its own in the hot rod world. And who better to build it than Boyd Coddington, the Michelangelo of custom cars?

So the Aluma Coupe morphed from a traditional roadster into something more daring. Erickson envisioned a mid-engine setup, making the car a wild mashup of hot rod heritage and cutting-edge tech. Think of it as a lovechild between a '34 Ford and a concept car from the future.

Under the Hood — or Rather, Behind the Seats

At its heart, the Aluma Coupe got something no one saw coming: a turbocharged 2.0-liter Mitsubishi Eclipse engine, the same mill you’d find in a boy racer’s first tuner car. Only this one was turned up to a screaming 320 horsepower, thanks to the wizardry of R.C. Engineering’s Russ Collins. It sat right behind the seats, driving the rear wheels through a Galant transaxle. It was a proper mid-engine exotic, in the guise of a hot rod.

If the engine choice sounds bonkers, that's because it was. And yet, somehow, it worked. This wasn’t just a nod to modern tech; it was a full-on headbutt, sending a clear message: the hot rod world was changing.

Built by the Masters

Turning Erickson's sky-high sketches into reality fell to Coddington's team. Dave Willey, Coddington’s go-to guy for hardcore fabrication, built a custom tube chassis that could handle the weight and the strain of a mid-engine setup. The suspension? Oh, just an independent cantilever setup with inboard coil-over shocks up front — the kind of thing you’d see on a Le Mans prototype, not your granddad’s Deuce coupe.

Marcel DeLay, another hot rod genius, shaped the all-aluminum body by hand. Yep, aluminum — hence the name "Aluma Coupe." Originally, this car was going to be a roadster, but concerns about chassis rigidity meant it evolved into a coupe. Not that we’re complaining. With its rakish roofline and low-slung stance, it looked ready to pounce even when it was parked.

Style Inside and Out

The car’s exterior was finished in a glassy, yellow-pearl paint that looked deep enough to swim in, perfectly contrasting with Coddington’s signature Tri-Fan wheels. The Aluma Coupe wasn’t just about go-fast tech, though; it was about style. It had the swagger to back up its innovative engineering.

Erickson also penned the interior, crafting a cockpit that wouldn’t have been out of place in a concept car. The instruments came straight out of a Mitsubishi Eclipse, naturally, but the seats were bespoke Connolly leather pieces, and the steering wheel was pure Boyd Coddington — custom-made and just as stylish as the car itself.

Turning Heads and Changing Minds

When the Aluma Coupe debuted at the 1992 New York Auto Show, it didn’t just get noticed. It got drooled over. This wasn’t some fiberglass Frankenstein thrown together for a quick headline; this was a masterpiece. The car made people rethink what a hot rod could be. No chrome blowers sticking out of the hood, no fat rear tires smoking down the quarter-mile. Instead, it was sleek, modern, and undeniably cool.

Ferrari collector David Sydorick snapped up the Aluma Coupe in 1993, a testament to its design appeal that crossed even into the world of Italian exotics.

Legacy: The Hot Rod Revolution

The Aluma Coupe’s impact was more profound than just being a showstopper. It showed that hot rods didn’t have to be stuck in the past, endlessly recycling the same old formula of big engines and pre-WWII bodies. It showed that hot rods could be forward-thinking, that they could embrace technology and modernity without losing their soul.

By blending old-school aesthetics with cutting-edge engineering, the Aluma Coupe changed the game. Coddington would go on to cement his reputation as the premier rod builder of his generation, and Erickson? Well, he’d become the guy who brought hot rodding into the 21st century, one aluminum panel at a time.

In the end, the Aluma Coupe wasn’t just a car; it was a rolling revolution — a beautifully built, turbocharged declaration that the future of hot rods had arrived, and it was wilder than anyone could have ever imagined.

To explore more incredible stories of self-made cars and their creators, visit One-Cars Section.