Beverly Hills Car Club – we buy classic cars nationwide
There’s a practical reason 1967 Camaros get treated differently from the two years that followed, and it has little to do with nostalgia. A 1967 car is full of things that were only used in 1967. The grille. The taillight lenses. The instrument panel. Much of the interior trim. The door glass, because 1967 was the only first generation year with vent windows. The clean flanks, because side marker lights didn’t arrive until federal rules required them for 1968. Most of it was gone by the time the next model year came down the line.
For an owner, that cuts two ways at once. It’s why first-year cars hold a particular place with collectors who want the design exactly as Chevrolet’s stylists drew it, before regulation started adding to it. It’s also why a 1967 that’s missing correct trim, or that’s been patched with later parts by someone who didn’t know or didn’t care, is a harder car to put right than a 1968 or 1969 in similar condition.
We buy 1967 Camaros in every version of that story – cars kept correctly for decades, cars built into something else in the 1980s, and cars that came out of a barn last month with a mouse nest where the air cleaner should be. This page covers what we look at when we assess one, and how selling directly compares with the other routes you’re weighing. For most owners, a direct sale with a firm number and immediate payment is the strongest of those routes
The 1967 Camaro arrived in a market Ford had owned for two and a half years, and Chevrolet’s answer was choice. The base car carried a 230 inline six. From there the order sheet climbed through the 250 six, the 327 small block, and — notably — the SS 350, which gave Chevrolet’s 350-cubic-inch V8 its public debut. The Camaro was the first car to get it. The 396 big block followed partway into the model year, so the earliest-built 1967s couldn’t have had one from the factory, a timing detail that matters when a car’s build date and its drivetrain story need to line up.
A handful of first-year specifics we check on every car:
The 1967 Z/28 wore no Z/28 badges. The dual stripes over the hood and deck lid were the only exterior giveaway. Owners are sometimes surprised to learn that a correctly presented first-year Z/28 shouldn’t carry emblems, and that a car wearing them is telling you something about how it was restored. The package required a four-speed manual and power front disc brakes, and first-year production was a small fraction of what 1968 and 1969 would bring. This is the scarce one, and it’s the one most often imitated.
The rear suspension was a work in progress. Most 1967 cars rode on single-leaf rear springs, and the high-performance cars added a traction bar to fight axle wind-up. The multi-leaf springs and staggered rear shocks that addressed the problem properly came for 1968. Anyone who has launched a 1967 big-block four-speed hard knows the wheel hop firsthand — and a correct first-year car should still have the first-year hardware, not a later upgrade.
Front disc brakes were optional. A four-wheel-drum 1967 is correct, not deficient. If a car has been converted to discs, the original parts being present, or not, becomes part of its value story.
The Rally Sport package brought the vacuum-operated hidden headlights, which are charming when they work and a genuine sorting project when they don’t. We see plenty of RS cars with the doors wired open, the actuators dead, or the vacuum lines replaced with whatever was on hand. It’s fixable, and it’s priced into the number rather than counted against the car.
Convertibles are a much smaller slice of 1967 production than coupes, and a documented first-year SS or RS/SS convertible sits in its own part of the market.
If we were standing in your garage, this is the route we’d follow. You can walk it yourself before sending photos, and doing so makes our assessment faster and more accurate.
Start under the hood, at the cowl. Look at the plenum area at the base of the windshield. This is the Camaro’s most expensive quiet problem: leaves and water collect there, the metal corrodes from the inside where it can’t be seen, and the water finds its way into the toe boards, kick panels, and inner rockers. A driver’s-side carpet that’s been damp more than once is usually a cowl problem, not a windshield seal.
Then the floors, from below if you can. Toe boards first, then the full pan, then the inner and outer rockers. Press along the rockers with a thumb or a screwdriver handle – it tells the truth faster than a photograph does.
The front subframe at its body mounts. The bolt-on subframe is what let Chevrolet fit everything from a six to a big block, and the points where it meets the body are a known corrosion spot. Look at the mounts, not only along the rails.
The rear frame rails where they arch over the axle. Structural, common, and easy to miss.
The trunk, with the mat all the way out. The floor, the drop-off panels at the rear corners, the tail panel corners. Then check the channel under the rear window from inside — cars that wore vinyl tops are the usual offenders, and rot there spreads into the package shelf.
Lower quarters ahead of and behind the wheel openings, and the wheelhouses. Then the door bottoms. On a 1967 specifically, look at the vent window seals and frames: worn seals let water run down inside the door, and that’s a moisture path the later cars don’t have.
Finish with the mechanical side, and relax a little here. A tired small block, a slipping Powerglide, a whining rear axle — these are routine on a Camaro, and parts supply is effectively bottomless. Drivetrain work on these cars sits at the modest end of anything in the classic market. Costs climb in specific places: a solid-lifter 302 needing correct heads and valvetrain, a big-block rebuild where the original block must be saved rather than swapped, and hunting down factory equipment a previous owner discarded decades ago that now matters to judging and value.
The comparison that matters is between realized outcomes, not best-case headlines.
Auction puts your car in front of the widest audience, and for a documented 1967 Z/28 or a correct SS with provenance, that exposure is genuinely valuable. The costs are also real, and most are owed whatever the result: a seller’s commission commonly around ten percent, transport to the venue, insurance and storage through consignment, and a timeline that typically runs a few months from paperwork to payment. If bidding stalls below your reserve, those costs are spent and the car comes home.
Private sale carries the highest theoretical ceiling and the heaviest effort. With a 1967 especially, you’ll be walking every knowledgeable prospect through the authentication question, at length, repeatedly, and sometimes with people more confident than informed. Add the inquiries that lead nowhere, the viewings that don’t happen, inspection contingencies, and financing that may not come through. Some owners enjoy the process. Many start it and finish it with us.
Selling to us exchanges the theoretical ceiling for a known result. You send information, we assess the car, and if an offer is made and agreed to, you receive a specific number — not a range, and not contingent on a later inspection rewriting the terms. Payment is immediate. We arrange pickup anywhere in the country and handle the paperwork, including the versions complicated by liens, missing titles, out-of-state registration, or estate documentation.
Send clear photos: all four corners, the interior, the engine bay, the trunk with the mat lifted, and the underside if you can reach it safely. Include a readable shot of the cowl tag and, if accessible, the stamped pad on the front of the engine block. Add the VIN, how long you’ve owned the car, what’s been done to it, and what you know is wrong. Honest photos of the rough areas help us more than flattering photos of the good ones — they let us get the number right the first time.

“This is going to sound too good to be true, but it is true! My parents had a 1970 Mercedes 280 that was given to my mom by my grandfather, purchased in the 70s. The car was well loved by the family for many decades, but over time, the car became too much of a financial burden for my parents to keep repairing and investing in. My parents have been trying to figure out how to sell it for years, with no success, because of not knowing what the car was actually worth but knowing it was valuable because it was a classic. One night while google searching, I stumbled upon Alex’s website, and on somewhat of a whim, I decided to submit a request to the contact form on the site along with photos of the car, just to see what would happen. Within 30 minutes of submitting the form, I received a phone call from Alex Manos, the owner. He asked a few questions about the car and then offered to buy it. I was extremely skeptical because I couldn’t fathom why this stranger from across the country would offer to buy this old car sight unseen – just seemed sketchy and like a potential scam. But after pondering it all weekend and talking with my parents, we decided we had nothing to lose, and the prospect of being done with the burden of this car forever sounded good to my mom. We researched as much as we could to ensure Alex was offering a fair price, and felt like his price was fair based on the condition and age of the car, and knowing he was assuming ALL the risk, having no idea what mechanical issues the car might have. So we agreed to accept his offer. He wired the money to my mom instantly – it was in her account the next business day. Once the funds cleared, Alex’s team coordinated us mailing the title & car docs to them, and they sent a truck out within two days to pickup the car. The entire process was stress-free, seamless, the communication was excellent and clear, and Alex was respectful and professional to work with. If you have a classic car to sell, I HIGHLY recommend Alex!”

“The sale was very efficient and effortless. Once the the sale price was agreed and documents signed the money was credited to my checking and within 2 days the vehicle was picked up. I trust the next owner will enjoy the vehicle to the fullest.”

“Gevik was wonderful to work with. He made everything a breeze and took the time to personally answer calls and all of our questions. We are so happy with our new car and the experience with Gevik and Beverly Hill’s Car Club. Thank you!!”

“Tres sympathique!”

“I made the tough decision to sell my 1965 Mustang and the process couldn’t have been any easier. They wired the money to me and then a sent a driver by a few days later. I hope my beautiful car finds a good owner!”

“All aspects of the transactions were explained in detail upfront. The negotiation on the price of the vehicle was done, professionally and without pressure. Upon completion of the transaction, they picked up the vehicle on time.”

“Adam is very pleasant and I appreciate his follow up.”
Or email via our website and we’ll go over all you need to know to sell your classic!
Just send a few photos, this is often all we need to make an offer.
You get you paid, and then we’ll pick up the vehicle – IT’S THAT SIMPLE!