A bumper dragging, boot flapping, blistered and blistering Bel Air driven mad by its maker. Born with two wheels too many. Bought for the doors and left to fester til Russ Lowe turned it from wreck to racecar in 42 days. A quintessential gasser, deranged and named after a mate’s magic act. Ain’t no trailer queen. Happily thrashed metal. In a broken stone age dawn she flies so high. Strange Magic, a perfectly dishevelled ‘56 Chev is wheelstanding its way via video into our social feeds now. This half Sour, half Hazy IPA is also built with bits and pieces, and its bold, juicy, citrus bounce is a crowd pleaser like its namesake.
