"Some Men See The Viper As It Is And Say Why..."

Rafael Reston dreams Vipers that never were and says why not... then he picks up a pencil, and draws things like this.

Yup, that's a Dodge Viper, from 1967. You remember, don't you? back in the days when the muscle car wars were rapidly nearing their zenith. Horsepower was just compression and fuel and fuel was cheap. And Dodge decided it needed a rival to Chevrolet's ace-in-the-hole Corvette? Thus was born, the Viper, a different American sports car, with huge power, and styling so flamboyant that Sting Rays ran and hid like little girls. It s double-bubble roof aped the European GTs of the day, as did other styling details such as the surprisingly dainty treatment of the lamps and bumpers. Sure it shared some of its basic proportions with the aforementioned 'Vette, but that's just because they were the right proportions for a sports car.

However, with a 440 Magnum V8 under the hood it was set to leave all but the swiftest of imports and Corvettes standing at the lights. Its chassis was stout, its suspension was sophisticated, and it quickly became a performance legend. Even the effect of the titanic weight of that 440 was minimised by setting it behind the front axle. What a machine! I'm so glad Dodge had the casabas to build this thing. I still want one, have since I was...

Ok, so it never happened, and even if it had, I'm not sure how much I'd really be in love with it. Still, this is a very sophisticated effort to show us a car that could have turned the muscle car era on its ear. Admittedly, it looks very much like the Chevy from some angles (like the inside angle for a start), and one of the European GTs from which it seems to take some cues, is the Volvo P1800 (check the rear fender-line). But I come away thinking it's actually pretty cool.

The thing that makes me like the project so much is the way Reston seems to have gone about it. The chassis is re-imagined, there was research done on trends in construction and design in the late 60s. And yet, the car is recognizably a Viper, even down to the vents in the front fenders, and the duck-tail shape of the boot-lid.

I do take issue with a couple items though. First off, the 440 is, in Reston's words from "the Challenger R/T, but modified to gain some more HP..." It's a great idea until you realize that the Challenger didn't debut until 1970, let's just assume he meant Charger R/T and leave it at that.My other problem also concerns the engine. Why the 440. and why just the Magnum? Was there going to be a six-pack option? How about a Hemi-426, or a 340 (also with a six-pack)? The chassis is advanced enough to deserve sports car status, and a lighter engine than the 440, the reason dodge only offers the one engine in today's Viper is that it sells in tiny numbers, and they'd have to crash test another one to homologate the chassis with that motor. In 1967, there would have been no reason for Dodge to be so conservative. Like the Charger and the Barracuda, Chrysler would have built a Viper for every man who wanted one.

In the end, I'm one of those men. I can solve all the problems of spec in my mind, and remember that my '67 Viper came with a 340, a six-pack, limited slip, and rally springs. I street raced it, took it to the strip. Took her out to the old track at Riverside as well, where I decimated the Corvette crowd and the Jaguars (though she did get a little squirrelly through turn six). I cheered in '68 when the Viper won its class at Sebring, then morned when a broken transmission put it out at Le Mans after 16hrs, then cheered again, when it took top in class at Daytona. The Beach Boys wrote a song about the Viper. Then the 70s rolled around and nothing would ever be the same. Nixon, the EPA, dirty freakin tree-hugging hippies, blah, blah, blah...

From: Car Body Design via: Jalopnik

Wiesmann GT MF5 Is Our Kind Of Car.

Looks hard, sounds hard, goes like stink. It's a good short-list of requirements for automotive notoriety. It's not a guarantee of sublime dynamics and entertaining personality, but cars without these factors have little chance these days of turning out engaging and desirable. There was a time when fun could be had a lower velocities, and with a lot less work. But years of tightening legislation and consumer demand for creature comfort have pushed the cheap, light and cheerful end of the automotive entertainment spectrum to the limit of existence. Barring a few hot-hatches, fewer still sold in the US, there's nothing out there that gives Sprite or Mini levels of enjoyment.

Which brings us to the modern day, and specifically, to Wiesmann's interpretation of the state of auto-erotica, circa-2009. The GT MF5 is a car that buys its clothes at the vintage shop downtown, but then goes home and alters them to fit its toned, modern, gym-membership physique. The lines speak of cars dating from the late 30s to the mid 50s; there's some BMW 507, some Jaguar XK120, even some Mercedes 540K. Those lines are rendered in glass-fiber, overlaid with modern aerodynamics including a raised wing at the rear, then draped over an aluminum monocoque chassis which cradles the 5.0-liter V10 from BMW's M5, the whole car set upon gigantic 19" alloys wheels.

The net effect is startlingly attractive is a way that's hard to believe from the above description. We've seen Wiesmann's work before on both a GT and a roadster, but this car really does look brilliant. Compact and curvaceous, hunkered and poised; it has attitude in spades, yet, despite some fussy detailing, it keeps a sense of grace and chic that's hard to come by in specialist sports cars. Sure Wiesmann give you the opportunity to screw it all up by allowing the selection of some terrible color and trim options; but all you have to do is tick other boxes on the spec sheet (NOTE: A foregoing the show-car's gloss blue over black wheels, with matching blue piping for the interior is a good place to start.) and you're left with a striking and mostly tasteful (though unmistakeably German) looking car that's constructed to levels of fit and finish that only the Germans ever seem to get right.

And now for the part where it goes like stink. Simply put, when 507bhp worth of V10 meet a chassis that weighs just over 3000 pounds, the affects are going to be explosive. 0-62mph is said to happen in 3.9, and a top speed of 193mph is certainly more than enough performance at the top end. At the same time, the sound produced by the engine makes you wonder how Chrysler can be satisfied with the noise coming out of the backs of Vipers across the country, V10s are as capable of mixing anger and sophistication as any powerplant configuration out there.

As for the handling, well, the only reviews I've been able to find so far are in German, but Wiesmann have built areputation making cars that ride and handle in ways that betray a much great sensitivity than their large wheels and limited suspension travel would suggest. It'd be strange if they somehow lost the plot at this point. Of course, that V10 comes with BMW's 7-speed, paddle-shit gearbox, which automatically (no pun intended) means I'm a little put off. But flabby-paddles are so common these days, and the rest of the MF5's spec is so mouth watering, that, given the funds, I'd still be tempted.

That is, of course, if it were to be offered here. Once again, the legislators have gotten between me and the thing I desire, and once again, it's all for naught. Even though BMW sell thousands of cars with the same engine in the US each year, the Government, and California's C.A.R.B. would require the MF5 to go through all the same tests, and Weismann simply cannot afford to certify the car. US gearheads will once again simply have to appreciate an intrinsically cool car from across an ocean... alas. In any event, here's a short video of what I'll in all likelihood never get to do with the MF5.



And a man talking about the car at length, in German.

One You Can't Buy Here, IV...

One of my favorite current cars about which to dream is Maserati's Gran Turismo S. It's a beautiful car, and the addition of the 4.7-liter version of the Maserati/Ferrari/Alfa Romeo V8 out of the 8C Competizione is reported to make up for the lack of grunt experienced in the "normal" Gran Turismo. It looks to be a new step in the resurgence Maserati has been experiencing in recent years and in most ways is the kind of car they should have been producing for years.

That being said, I have a few small problems with it, not the least of which is that engine. I understand that economies of scale mean that it's easier for Fiat to base Maserati's new beginning on Ferrari's 430, but it irks me just the same. Maserati is a marque with a history as proud and evocative as any in Italy, and to have it share it's bloodline with a brand that was once its greatest rival is just a little sad. I love the new cars, and I'm glad that Maserati have finally found the capital to produce beautiful machinery again, I only with it were theirs. My second problem is the gearbox. I have no doubt that it is improved over earlier versions of the Cambicorsa but it should not be the only transmission option available. A Maserati is not a racing car, and need not emulate current racing machines. A six-speed, complete with clutch pedal would be nice.

And so it is that I find myself wishing once again that the US market had been recipient to that most elevated of the much derided Bi-Turbo lineup, the Shamal. the Bi-Turbo was not in itself a great car, though in many ways not as bad as rumor and history would suggest. It was an attempt, twenty years ago, to bring Maserati forward into the 80s with a car that could be made profitable at a time when the company's aging lineup of super GTs had it lumbering dinosaur like toward extinction. The new, twin-turbocharged V6, from which the model took it's name was a brave departure, and a considerable expense, for new owner Alejandro De Tomaso. The cars were unreliable though, and soon garnered a reputation for leaving owners stranded in ways that the BMWs they had traded in had not. The Bi-Turbo was effectively the end for Maserati in the American market, and even in Europe it was seen as a farce and Maserati became nothing more than an off-beat choice for those looking for something out of the ordinary.

That changed somewhat in 1989. After years of grafting on camshafts and valves, and increasing the displacement of the Bi-Turbo, Maserati uncorked what many at the time thought was the car the Bi-Turbo should have been all along. The Shamal would incorporate a new engine, still based heavily in Bi-Turbo design, but now a V8 of 3.2-liters (basically a Bi-Turbo 90-degree V6 with two cylinders added) that, along with being balanced dynamically, generated 325bhp and 318 lb-ft of torque. That grunt was sent to a modified version of the Bi-Turbo's trailing arm rear end (struts at the front) via a six-speed manual transmission and a limited-slip differential termed "Ranger" by Maserati. That grunt may not sound so high today, but remember, this was in the days when even GT cars could be made reasonably light weight; the Shamal came in at 3,124lbs (the Gran Turismo weighs over 3,900). the results must have been electrifying. Here, as if from nowhere, was a true performance GT from one of the most respected badges in automotive history.

Along with performance figures that put it firmly in the game (0-60 in around 5.0-seconds when a super car could do it in maybe 4.0, top speed north of 165) the Shamal featured a re-style of the basic Bi-Turbo shape by none other than Mr. Super car himself, Marcello Gandini, it even had the signature rear-whee larch cut-outs to prove it. Never a pretty shape, the Shamal is none the less a looker, with interesting proportions and bold, boxed arches. Only details like the (functional) spoiler at the base of the wind screen detract. The cabin was luxurious in the 80s Maserati mold, featuring that signature lemon-shaped clock in the center of the dash; almost every other surface was covered in wood or leather.

Best of all, this new Maserati Gt handled in a no holds barred, tail out kind of way. It was what is chauvinistically referred to as a "mans car" and it took a firm hand to steer it from the rear when all that torque hit the wheels. Here was Maserati's answer to a decade of criticism, a stunning GT that hit almost all the right buttons, and which, of course, was made in very limited numbers. It would be up to the later, V6 Ghibli to take Maserati's fight to the likes of Porsche, but that's another story. In all, only 369 Shamals would leave the factory before production was halted.

Of course I've never driven one, never even seen one in fact, but it remains one of the cars I most covet; one of the cars I'd import myself, just to sit it in my living-room on display. These cars deserve better though. They're made for crushing continents and deliver what must be a very special experience. They are also among the last Maserati GTs made before the total Fiat takeover and the "sale" to Ferrari, and thus are some of the last true Maseratis. today's cars are more advanced and their suspension design is certainly better in concept, but they don't rate as highly in handling, and I can't help feeling like something has been lost in the translation from Maserati, to mini-Ferrari.

Perhaps Performance Car Magazine summed it up best in period with this wrap-up on the Shamal, "Challenging looks, storming performance. Superb." Still fancy that Gran Turismo S? Alas, I've no other choice but to do so...

One You Can't Buy Here III...

I like Hondas. I like most of the cars they've turned out over the years, from the first S500 (Ok, I've only seen Hondas as far back as the S600, stay with me), to the S200 my 70-something mother just bought this year (I love my mom). I think I might like Civics most of all though; truth is, they're my kind of car. I like my cars small, light, quick, nimble, and stylish; and for every era it's been on sale, the Civic has been those things, until lately anyhow. The new Civic embodies very few of the above features, in fact, maybe only one, and then only the Si version. The Si is at least quick; as quick as any US market Civic has ever been, but it's not the quickest Civic there is, or was.

For almost every generation of Civic there has been an Si. First introduced in 1984 for the Japanese market, the Si came to the US in '86 following on the heels of its CRX sister with which it shared its drive-train and suspension. Even at this point there were discrepancies between the US and Japanese cars in equipment and performance. While Japanese Civics and CRXs enjoyed the advanced specification of a fuel-injected, DOHC, 1.6-liter 4-cylinder putting out 130bhp, the US got a carburettor ff\ed 1.5-liter SOHC motor with a less inspiring 91bhp. Still, that didn't compare badly with the competition in the form of Volkswagen's Rabbit GTi (1.8-liters, 90bhp), though Toyota's Corolla FX-16 nuked it with its then new 4A-GE twin-cam (1.6-liters, 115bhp). It was enough, combined with the Civic's small size to produce what passed in the day for a warm-hatch. The real sports customers had the lighter, shorter CRX to cater to them.

As the years progressed the Civic put on size and weight with every revision, but gained in power and sophistication as well so that by the time the 1992 rolled around the EG Civic Si was putting out 125bhp and sported what functioned as double-wishbone suspension, as well as four-wheel disk brakes. Once again the Japanese cars were allowed to out-run the American market. The Civic Si in Nippon sporting the first version of the DOHC VTEC 1.6-liter B16A putting out 158bhp, and if that weren't enough for the island nation an upgraded B16 putting out 168bhp was contained within the new Civic SiR. The US market would get the B16 in 160bhp guise in the CRX replacing Civic Del Sol. I owned one of those cars and the motor was terrific, but the targa roof that indirectly gave the car it's name robbed the chassis of anything like rigidity and spoiled the handling.

It would take the introduction of the EM Civic Si in 1999 to give the B16A the home it deserved. By this time the Si badge had moved to the more popular coupe body. It was a great package for around 17 grand; the B16 motor was smooth and revved to a stratospheric 8,500rpm, delivering its power in a rush at the top. But even then, the Japanese held the best in reserve. The original (EK9) Civic Type-R was a factory racer in the best tradition. Some say that it loses out the the legendary Integra Type-R which was slightly more stable, but by any standard the Civic was fast and sharp. Gone was any remnant of base-model Civic chassis, only the body and interior had any connection. The shifter was one of the quickest in FWD history, the suspension, combined with a well judge LSD (Limited Slip Differential), allowed the rear wheels to whip into a drift at the merest hint of a corner, but the best part was the motor.

In the US the B16B is a myth, a motor imported under the nose of customs and quietly slipped into the engine bays of lesser Civics in attempts to create something resembling the Civic Type-R. In Japan, it was a motor that could be bought off dealers lots in a light weight factory hot rod and driven up canyon roads the same afternoon. It produces no less than 185bhp from the same 1.6-liters as the B16A, but it does so at a truly racer like 8,200rpm, before maxing out at an ear-splitting 9,000rpm. In the lightened chassis of the already lighter Civic Hatchback it made for a 0-60mph time under 6-seconds. It was fast by any standards.

And it never came to the US. For reasons best known to themselves (The Integra Type-R was already on its way to becoming THE tuner car of the 90s) Honda decided that only the Japanese market would support the Super Civic. the second generation (EP3) car made it to Europe with 200bhp and a six speed. The US got another, heavier Si sporting only the same 160bhp from a much lower-revving and less charismatic 2.0-liter engine. Even worse, Honda decided that the double wishbone front suspension wasn't pulling tis weight and replaced it with cheaper, and crappier struts. US drivers learned to salve their wounds with the phrase, "Well, at least this one has more torque."

This time around though it looked like the US was finally through with the short end of the stick and ready to hand it to Europe. The current Si has a 198bhp motor that revs all the way to 8,000rpm. And while the front struts seem to be here to stay, at least were not saddled with the European Type-R's solid rear axle. We even got an LSD, which the Type-R had given up in Europe with the last generation and hadn't re-grown. Sure it's improbably large for a small coupe, but at least the US could hold its head high, at last Japan gave us the good stuff.

But good though our stuff is, the Japanese have saved the best for themselves. The current JDM Type_R is a monumental machine with 220bhp and a modified chassis that seems nearly immune to either under, or over-steer; it simply grips, and grips, and goes, like a rocket. And with their amazingly cool Single Vehicle Approval process, EU residents can import their own. Damn.

I want one. I'd save and buy one if only Honda would bring it in. It's lightened and hardened and exactly what I like a car to be. I want the MOMO wheel, and the Recaro seats, and the steering precision. I think some of you would buy one too, enough of us that there's a market for a fuel efficient, small performance sedan. It's just too bad we'll never find out what could be, or what might have been.

One You Can't Buy Here, II...

So, you want a sporty, car? How about a turbo, you like those? Of course, lightweight is a great thing, and nimble handling is on the agenda, as well as a great soundtrack. Let's get a little exotic, how about a mid-ship engine placement, and fancy doors? Really cool, make the car tiny so that you can place it on the road with more ease and certainty than anything this side of a motorcycle, and make it a coupe, with a real interior so that all this good stuff can be used to get through traffic in the morning as well as scrapping around mountain roads, all the while getting great fuel mileage...

Too bad, Mazda never brought the Autozam AZ-1 to these shores. It's a real shame too, as along with the slightly more common Honda Beat and Suzuki's Cappuccino the AZ-1 was one of only a few sports cars built to Japan's Kei rules. That fact alone is kind of weird because along with making a great city car, the Kei regulations read like a formula for a tiny sportster in the mold of Abarth-Fiats, and Ginnetta's G15. 660cc is the limit for engines and 63bhp, maximum length is 3.4 meters, width under 1.5. These are tiny cars, and the Mazda is actually smaller than most as it easily comes in under the 2m height limit (the AZ-1's highest point actually sits a fairly minuscule 1150mm from the ground).

Of the three Kei-Sports mentioned the Mazda is by far the most interesting, its mid-engine design, combined with its three-cylinder motor (shared with the Cappuccino) make for an exciting, if noisy drive. The gull-wing doors add a sense of occasion, and can be removed with relative ease to make for a surprisingly open car. In almost all ways the AZ-1 behaves like a miniature exotic, and that includes lack of space, and a general lack of refinement. I can't imagine it's terribly safe, especially if contacted by the average Canyonero-esque soccer-mom convenience, and you'll have to use your pockets for things like phones and pens because the Mazda doesn't have any. The payback is immediate steering and handling, decent acceleration (for a 660cc car) and terrific mileage. The best part is how well the AZ-1 (and by extension the Cappuccino) responds to tuning, with more than one tuner extracting 120bhp from the little three. Mazda themselves produced a few special editions, and several show-cars, including a radical, group-C inspired pseudo-racer.

The AZ-1 also shares an interesting feature with that most famous of small sports cars, the Austin Healy Mk-I sprite. Both cars were originally intended to have pop-up style hidden headlamps, but on both projects the system was discarded on grounds of weight and cost, so both share a somewhat similar wide-eyed expression at the front.

The cars seem to be constantly up for auction online in Japan, and some have made their way to Europe as gray-market cars, but I've only heard of a couple in the U.S., and I have no idea what their owners have done to convince the authorities that the cars should be allowed in the country. It's a shame too as this is just another example of EPA regulations having the inverse of their supposedly intended effect. Having more cars like this on U.S. soil could only be a good thing, and encouraging this level of fuel-economy by giving drivers the ability to have fun at the same time would seem worth bending a few rules. Alas, fun seems never to be a bureaucrat's favored word. More's the pity...

One You Can't Buy Here, I...

The Renault-Sport Clio is a neat little car in all its incarnations, from the 172, to the current 197. If you include the legendary Clio Williams in the group than the little Renault has an enviable reputation as one of the hottest of hatches that dates back fifteen years. In that time, power has never fallen below 150bhp, and has never been above 200bhp, always from right around 2.0liters of displacement. Weight started at 2227lbs for the series I Williams, and now stands at 2535lbs for the Clio 197. Fuel economy has always been in the mid-thirties on average, and the lates cars are some of the lowest emmiting hot hatches in Europe. Combine that with performace like 0-60 in 6.9 (6.0 for the newest Clio Cup) and a top speed of over 130, and it becomes the kind of driver's car you might well find youself shopping for.

Except of course that I live the the U.S., so of course I can't. Renault left these shores in 1989, perhaps never to return. All in all it didn't seem like such a bad deal at the time, after all, Renault were hardly setting the U.S. on fire (Le Car engine rooms excepted) with their slim lineup of cheap, but fragile and gutless econo-boxes.

Thing is, even at that point, Europe was getting all the good stuff, including the Renault 5GT Turbo and the Alpine GTA. And over there things continued to improve to the point that when the Clio Williams debuted, it knocked memories of the Peugeot 205 GTi, and the Volkswage Golg GTi MkII out of enthusiasts heads. the Williams performance was a wakeup call to other hot hatch manufacturers, but it was the handling and road holding of the perked up clio that really got journalists foaming at the mouth. Light, direct, supple and focused and agile, just like a great hatch should be. And those valuse have been handed down to the Clio Cup of today.

I think Renault should give the U.S. market another try. With gas and oil where they are, there's every reason to expect some success for cars like the Clio, and the emmisions and crash safety restrictions are now much more even between the U.S. and E.U. There's no reason to suspect that cars like the Clio couldn't keep almost all of their performance and handling for the American market. After all, Alfa Romeo is doing the same thing next year, and may even bring over their full line in a couple years. The world needs for the U.S. market to have these choices. If U.S. consumers have quality economical cars available to them I believe they will start to buy them. It worked for the Japanese largely because durring the last energy crissis their cars had a percieved (and largely factuall) difference in quality to the economical European competition. these days that perception might just be reversed.

It's time for Europe to import cars other than Exotics, Luxury Sedans, and odd-balls like the Smart. The Mini has shown what clever marketing and a decent product can accomplish, lets just hope Renault is watching.