Forest-Find 1972 Plymouth Road Runner: A Muscle Car Left to the Woods

A 1972 Plymouth Road Runner has surfaced in Fountain, North Carolina, but this particular example has spent years slowly surrendering to the forest floor. Listed on Facebook Marketplace at $5,000, the car is buried under leaves and pine needles, with vegetation reportedly taking root in the trunk. The seller’s brief listing—missing punctuation entirely—warns that the project needs extensive work, and photos show a machine that has clearly been sitting outdoors for a very long time.

The Road Runner arrived in 1968 as Plymouth’s budget-conscious entry into the mid-size muscle car segment. Sales climbed quickly, hitting 84,420 units in 1969, but the momentum reversed as insurance premiums for high-performance cars soared. By 1972, Plymouth moved only 6,861 Road Runners. For that model year, Chrysler’s redesigned B-body platform carried the division’s “fuselage” styling, and the engine roster had already been trimmed: the 383, the 440 Six Pack, and the 426 Hemi were gone. A 400-cubic-inch V8 rated at 255 horsepower (SAE net) and a small-block 340 were the remaining choices.

According to the seller, the 400 engine and transmission are still with the car, as is the rear end, and the title has survived—arguably the most valuable component here. The white interior is believed to be in poor condition, and the body is expected to be heavily rusted. The listing’s tone suggests the seller is firm on price and uninterested in extended negotiations, closing with a blunt warning against frivolous messages.

Enthusiast commentary has been uniformly skeptical. Some observers note that the 1972 Road Runner’s grille insert was a one-year-only part, while others point out the hood appears to be from a different model year—raising questions about the car’s authenticity. Cost of a proper restoration was widely judged to exceed the value of a finished example, and several readers suggested the vehicle barely qualifies even as a parts donor. Given how few 1972 models were built compared to the 1969 peak, though, some still wonder whether any restoration attempt could be justified simply by scarcity.

What remains is a familiar dilemma for old-car hunters: a documented title and a recognizable nameplate attached to a shell that nature has largely reclaimed. Whether anyone will step up at the asking price to rescue it—or whether it stays where it sits—is an open question.