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Who This Checklist Is For
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Step 1: Define Your Use Case – It's Not Just "Driving"
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Step 2: Get the Size Right – Don't Trust the Door Jamb
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Step 3: Think TCO, Not Price Per Tire
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Step 4: Select the Tread Pattern – Dry Grip vs. Rain vs. Noise
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Step 5: Check the Date Code – Don't Buy Shelf Relics
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Common Mistakes (I Made Every Single One)
I own a 1960s Lincoln Continental. Beautiful car. Heavy. Underpowered by modern standards, but that's not why I'm writing this.
I'm writing because I just spent $1,200 on the wrong set of tires. Not a blown engine, not a transmission rebuild – tires. The most replaceable part on the car. And I managed to turn it into a textbook case of what not to do.
So here's the checklist I wish I'd had. If you're restoring a classic Continental (or any heavy vintage cruiser) and you're thinking about tires – especially if someone in the forum mentioned "drift" or you live in a continental air mass climate – this is for you.
Who This Checklist Is For
You own (or are about to buy) a 1960s Lincoln Continental. The original bias-ply tires are long gone, and you're staring at modern radial options. You want the look right, the ride comfortable, and – maybe – the ability to have a little fun without killing yourself.
I'll give you the steps I now follow. Five steps. That's it. The first one is the one most people skip.
Step 1: Define Your Use Case – It's Not Just "Driving"
I assumed all driving was the same. That was my first mistake.
Ask yourself: will this car be a Sunday cruiser, a show queen, a daily driver in a continental air mass region (hot summers, cold winters, low humidity), or – and I'll be honest here – do you want to drift it occasionally?
Yes, drift. On a 1960s Lincoln. It sounds ridiculous until you see what a modern radial with a stiff sidewall can do. But drift is not the same as having fun in the rain. What drift really teaches you is: tire grip is the divide between control and chaos. You want tires that let you decide where that line sits.
So, step one: write down your primary use. Mine was "gentleman's hot rod + occasional autocross." That changed everything.
Step 2: Get the Size Right – Don't Trust the Door Jamb
The original tires on a 1960s Lincoln Continental were something like 9.00-14 bias-ply. Modern sizing is completely different. You need to convert correctly.
I learned this the hard way (ugh). I bought 235/75R15s because they looked close on paper. They rubbed the inner fender on every bump. $680 down the toilet.
Correct approach: find a conversion chart or ask a specialty tire shop that deals with classic Continental owners. For a 1960s Lincoln, P225/75R15 is a common modern equivalent. But verify offset and wheel width. (Should mention: modern wheels often have different backspacing, so you may need spacers.)
Checklist item: measure twice, buy once. I now have a printed spec sheet taped to my garage wall.
Step 3: Think TCO, Not Price Per Tire
A tire dealer once told me, "You can get four tires for $400." That sounded reasonable until I calculated my per-mile cost.
The $400 set lasted 18,000 miles. The $800 set I eventually bought (Continental, of course) is still going at 30,000 miles with plenty of tread left. That's $0.022 per mile vs $0.027 per mile – the expensive ones were actually cheaper. Plus, the cheap set had terrible wet traction. In a continental air mass climate where summer storms pop up fast, that's a safety risk.
So: total cost of ownership includes purchase price, expected mileage, mounting/balancing fees, and the cost of a crash if you lose grip. (Calculated the worst case: a minor fender bender on a classic car can easily run $5,000. The $400 savings on tires suddenly looks stupid.)
Step 4: Select the Tread Pattern – Dry Grip vs. Rain vs. Noise
This is where what is drift? becomes relevant. Drift relies on controlled slip, which means you need a tire that can transition from grip to slide predictably. A max-performance summer tire might grip like glue but snap into oversteer without warning. An all-season tire with a continuous center rib and softer compound gives you more gradual breakaway – easier to catch, more fun.
For a heavy 1960s Lincoln Continental, you don't want a tire that's too stiff or too soft. I landed on Continental ExtremeContact DWS06+ (now called something else in 2025). It has a good balance: quiet on the highway, excellent in rain, and it lets you feel the divide before you lose it completely.
If you're in a dry, dusty continental air mass region, you might prioritize a harder compound for longevity. But if you want any slip-angle fun, avoid the cheapest "touring" tires. They're unpredictable when pushed.
Step 5: Check the Date Code – Don't Buy Shelf Relics
I almost bought "new old stock" because they were cheap. Bad idea.
Rubber degrades even if the tire has never touched pavement. The DOT date code tells you when it was made. Anything older than 3 years should be discounted heavily, and anything older than 5 years should be avoided for a performance application. On a 1960s Lincoln Continental, you might not push the tire hard, but a 7-year-old tire can still crack and separate – I've seen it happen (ugh, again).
My rule now: date code must be within 12 months of purchase. If the seller can't produce it, walk away.
Common Mistakes (I Made Every Single One)
- Assuming bigger is better: Wider tires look cool but can rub and ruin steering feel on these old frames.
- Ignoring load rating: A 1960s Lincoln Continental weighs about 5,000 lbs. Standard passenger tires may not handle the weight. Use a C or D load range if available.
- Forgetting the spare: Does your original spare tire well fit a modern tire? Mine didn't. (Oh, and the jack is probably rusted – check that too.)
- Believing drift is just for imports: Drifting a 1960s Lincoln is possible, but you'll need to set tire pressures differently. I run 32 psi front, 28 rear to promote rotation. Experiment at your own risk.
The most frustrating part? Every forum says "buy Continental" without explaining which Continental. My $1,200 mistake could have been avoided with this checklist. Now I keep it in my glovebox – hopefully you'll save yours too.
– A guy who learned the hard way that divide between a good set of tires and a great one is the difference between cursing at a tow truck and grinning through a corner.