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Price: $52,425
Major equipment: : Premium Plus Package — bi-xenon headlamps, LED running lamps, auto-dim side mirrors, 18-inch wheels ($1,500)

In the fleet: 6/23/2009 - 6/29/2009

Approximate mileage driven: 750, including 30ish laps of Nelson Ledges Road Course

J. BARUTH: Johan de Nysschen, Audi’s dashing head honcho here in the United States, has repeatedly stated his desire to move Audi into pole prestige position among German luxury brands. Consider this supercharged A6 a toe dipped into the water. At more than fifty-two grand, this midsizer is priced head-ups with the BMW 535xi and just three grand short of a V-8 Mercedes E550. That’s pretty rarefied air, but in the “Premium Plus” trim sampled here, the A6 is decidedly short of equipment. There’s no navigation system, no backup screen, no keyless entry, and no flappy paddles on the steering wheel. Those of who are fans of mid-Eighties Buicks — and who isn’t? — will recognize this as “Custom” trim, rather than “Limited”.

This sedan’s a little light on the goodies, but it does have one feature to pique our collective interest: Audi’s new supercharged six-cylinder, debuting here ahead of its arrival in the upcoming S4 and revamped S5 models. For A6 duty, the engine is tuned to deliver a round 300 horsepower, just about what the previous-generation A6 4.2 turned out and well above the power level of the previous 2.7T twin-turbo V-6. Did we mention it was supercharged? Yes we did. So why is is a “3.0T”? Who knows? Audi is positioning it as a performance model, however, so we took it to the fastest road course on the East Coast to find out just how it performs.

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Supercharged engines tend to be prone to “heat soak”, reducing their power output during long periods of full-throttle operation. The temperature during our track day ranged between eighty-eight and ninety-seven degrees Fahrenheit, and over the course of successive laps, the A6 lost more and more thrust as the heat built up. Still, there was enough power on tap to drop 2.7-liter Boxsters on the run-up to the infamous car-eating “Kink” at Nelson Ledges Road Course, and enough predictability in the chassis to toss the big Audi through in a long four-wheel drift to the exit of said Kink.

Stopping the car is another matter. None of the German mid-sizers have brakes that are up to track duty, and the A6 is no exception. Still, by alternating “hot” and “cool” laps, we retained the ability to dip into ABS at will on the entrance to Turn One. It’s virtually impossible to get the big Audi out of shape on a racetrack, thanks to the big engine slung out over the front axle. Even the most outrageous trail-braking maneuvers are easily recoverable by just relaxing inputs and letting the car nose itself forward.

In-between the track sessions, we used the A6 as a taxi to obtain food for our drivers and give everyone a chance to sit in the air conditioning. This is where the car shines; there’s plenty of room in the back seat, plenty of comfort for everyone, and very few ergonomic faults to be found. While it’s slightly incongruous to pull up to a McDonald’s drive-thru in the same big sedan that had been sliding sideways through Turn Two just half an hour previously, there is a lot of joy to be found in a car that can accomplish both tasks reasonably well.

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Comparing this A6 to our fully-equipped S5 made us a bit wistful for the “Prestige” equipment level. The navigation, backup camera, full-color instrument panel display, keyless entry, and other goodies really do improve the Audi ownership experience more than you might think. At fifty-two thousand dollars, more of this equipment should come standard. Audi’s response would no doubt be that the equivalent BMW is not fully-equipped, but everybody knows that BMWs are heavily subsidized through lease programs and a variety of cashback schemes, making their actual cost to own considerably less.

We would also have to discuss the manner in which the supercharged Audi V-6 matches up to BMW’s twin-turbo I-6… and it doesn’t, really. BMW offers more power on paper and much more power in the real world, combined with a better noise and a smoother rev. While the A6 continues to be a more pleasant, tasteful way to travel than the 5-Series, thanks in large part to BMW’s obvious cost-cutting on interior trim, it would be nice to have a little more equipment included at this price level.

As fate would have it, we had the chance to take a 2009 A6 4.2 out during the Taurus SHO press event. This eight-cylinder variant is clearly, unmistakably superior to the supercharged six, both in power and interior appointments. It’s the A6 of choice, but it comes at a price: nearly nine grand more than our 3.0T tester. Still, given the choice we’d spend the extra money. In fact, we feel so strongly about the “Prestige” equipment level that we’d probably prefer a normally-aspirated 3.2 Prestige to this 3.0T Premium Plus. Too bad you can’t do it: the 3.2 is not available as a “Prestige” model.

In many ways, this A6 is a Goldilocks car. It’s not as slow as a 3.2 or as fast as a 4.2; it’s not as base as a Premium or as nice as a Prestige. But what’s the point of paying fifty-two grand for a car that is “just enough”, when for just fifteen percent more you can have the A6 4.2 Prestige? One reason might be found at the pump: we averaged 25.8mpg off-track, more than half again as much as we’d expect for the V-8 car. The question is: does anybody at this end of the market care? We’d put our money on the V-8, no questions asked. This car is an A6 we respect, but the 4.2 is an A6 we want.

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Last night I attended the premiere of the new film “Raptor - Born in Baja” which is a joint production between Ford Motor Company and Brentwood Communications. The premiere was held at the Egyptian Theater in Hollywood and it came complete with a few celebrities and a red carpet that covered a makeshift dirt entrance. The movie was certainly intriguing; telling the story of the Raptor team and their quest to build and race the truck in the Baja 1000. However the truck itself was the most interesting part of the night.

The 2010 Ford F-150 SVT Raptor is ready for the Hollywood spotlight.

(source: Jonathan Nafarrete)

I started the evening off by hitching a ride with one of the agents of the Fiesta Movement, Jonathan360 as well as a fellow twitter user by the name of MissMotorMouth. We drove up to Hollywood in a euro-spec 2011 Ford Fiesta, which was a great little car that I hope to spend more time with in the near future. But this night is not about the Fiesta - it is about the 2010 Ford F-150 SVT Raptor and its new movie.

The films chronicled the development of the Raptor, as well as the actual race. It was great getting an inside look at what running the Baja 1000 is all about. The most fascinating part of the journey is a toss-up between how well the truck holds together over the course of the race and the way this team of drivers/mechanics/builders/support crew works together over the course of a grueling 1000 mile dash through Mexico. 

The Team Raptor crew.

(source: Jonathan Nafarrete)

The premiere featured a few scattered celebrities such as Jay Leno and Adrienne Janic (of Overhaulin’ fame) but the biggest stars were the two Raptors parked at the entrance to the theater. One was the race Raptor R and the other was a production Raptor. 

I have a question for you, how many trucks are available on the market that can be used to drive to work during the week and then blast across the desert at high speed on the weekend? Without modification, the answer to this question was zero. Now Ford has stepped to the plate and created just such a truck in the 2010 Ford F-150 SVT Raptor. You can drive this truck at 80, 90, even 100 mph through the desert and this truck can handle the abuse - not to mention it comes with a standard Ford warranty. Here is one more question - how awesome is that? The answer I am looking for here is very - very awesome.

The Raptor is initially going to be powered by a 320 hp 5.4L V8 making 390 lb-ft of torque, but a 6.2L rumored to produce 400 hp will be available after the truck launches. The grille of the Raptor has large FORD lettering that stands out very aggressively. The truck is equipped with FOX Racing Shox, the only internal bypass shocks available on a street truck, which allow for 11.2 in. of travel in the front and 13.4 in. of travel in the rear. This Raptor is also 7 in. wider than a standard F-150 and wears massive BFGoodrich 35″ All-Terrain T/A tires. The 2010 Ford F-150 SVT Raptor is designed to operate as a daily-driver during the week and then an off-road rocket during the weekend. It will be available in showrooms in July with a MSRP of $38,995.

A massive thank you to Jonathan360 for driving and photographing the event, and to MissMotorMouth for passing along my info for the VIP list.

Here is a trailer of the movie:

Check out some more shots of the truck as well as a few celebs that Agent Jonathan360 captured with his lens:

[View with PicLens]

 

For more information on all 2009 Ford vehicles as well as the available 2010 Ford Vehicles, visit NADAguides.com.

Photographs by Jack Baruth

It would be poetic to say that the return of the Great American Sedan was announced as the speedometer of the 2010 Taurus SHO swept past the one-hundred-and-twenty-mile-per-hour mark with the insouciant prowess of a young Mark McGwire taking practice swings in the batter’s box. And it would be more than delightful to describe the way this big sedan trail-braked into an off-camber hairpin, smoking in sideways and providing my dry-heaving fellow member of The Press As A Whole the most panoramic view possible of the Great Smoky Mountains above the spectacular dashboard and sculpted bonnet while the steering spoke to me with crystalline clarity and the transmission snapped off two flawless downshifts. Or I could describe how, on a hill so steep walking it would be a challenge, the twin-turbo SHO squeaked its front tires for a nearly imperceptible moment before swapping drive to the back wheels and rocketing us up the slope with the force of a small-block Chevy.

The truth of the matter, however, is that I knew everything I needed to know about the 2010 Taurus when I was handed a floppy-looking interior door skin.

There are more ways to skin a door than there are to skin a cat, you see. Entry-level cars use cheap plastics in big undifferentiated slabs. Camcords and Maltimas use a slightly better grade of material in a manner that does nothing to hide the essential plastic-ness of the interior. BMWs and Audis use mass-produced leather or Naugahyde panels set into a soft plastic door. If there’s stitching, it’s done by machine, and the leather is usually relatively low-cost stuff. Finally, Rolls-Royces and other high-end cars use top-end leather, stitched by hand and pulled around “forming blocks” to create a completely unique appearance for each panel.

For the 2010 Taurus, Ford hand-stitched cost-no-object leather around individual blocks and assembled a multi-piece, hand-stitched leather door equal to the very best. Once. Then they used a very high-resolution sort of mold to capture every last individual detail, from ragged hand stitching to the way each individual door featured slightly different wrinkles from the leather around the corners of the armrest. With that done, they sprayed a special polyurethane compound into the mold. Presto! A precise copy of a hand-sewn door, right down to the way the stitches feel on the “leather”.

It’s an outstanding way to bring the interior appointments of quarter-million-dollar cars into a vehicle that starts at $25,995, and it’s in a way emblematic of how the Taurus was developed. The car is positively slathered with new or new-in-the-class technologies, some obvious (the MyKey system that allows you to set a maximum speed for the valet key) and some not so obvious (the fact that the Alcantara-esque seat inserts of the SHO are made from recycled bottecaps). The styling is absolutely unique in the class, particularly from the rear, and the interior is a solid step above what you’ll find in the competition, both in feature count and general aesthetics.

What is the competition? It isn’t the Accord or Camry, even though those cars have traditionally been the mortal enemies of Ford’s mechanical bull. Fighting that battle is the Fusion’s job now. Rather, think Avalon and Maxima on the Japanese side and Audi A4 and Mercedes C300 from the Germans. Ford uses the Audi A6 for benchmarking and comparison, but in terms of price this is an A4 competitor. The 1986 Taurus was a volume sedan that eventually became the best-selling car in America, but thisTaurus is something else. It’s a premium car, aimed at the older consumer or the more style-conscious one. Boomers whose retirement savings have shrunk beyond comprehension lately will find that the Taurus, particularly in Limited trim, offers room, power, and aesthetics similar to that found in more expensive foreign sedans. Think of it as a budget indulgence.

We tested two cars: a white Limited FWD and a red SHO Ecoboost. The Limited was quiet, comfy, and stable well past the hundred-mile-per-hour mark on roads shiny with standing water. Deliberate attempts on our part to induce instability during high-speed hydroplaning were dealt with easily by simple design; the big lump under the trunk pulls the car straight and the suspension, which features a new “1:1 geometry” that allows the engineers to use equally-tuned shocks front and rear, is stable by default.

What’s the Taurus like to drive? Well, it’s like a Lincoln MKS. Haven’t driven one of those? Your loss, but let’s use a few other examples. Think Audi A6, Nissan Maxima, or perhaps a nearly perfected variant of the underrated Chrysler LH cars. This is a well-sorted, quiet, rattle-free big sedan which easily matches the big Japanese front-drivers on NVH measurements. The real difference between Taurus and the competition comes from the interior, which has a wide, sloping dashboard, premium-looking instruments stuffed full of backlit, glass-like acrylics, and Ford’s outstanding current generation of switchgear.

It’s easily the most upscale experience available anywhere for short of thirty grand, and this is even true of the cloth-seated cars, which have deep, characterful fabric of the type that was once seen occasionally on Mercedes-Benzes imported through the so-called “grey market”. Rear-seat room, a particular virtue of the previous-generation Five Hundred/Taurus, continues to be excellent, while the front-seat passengers have the option of selecting BMW-style massaging seats with both heating and cooling functions.

The best front seat available in the Taurus lineup is the aforementioned bottlecap-suede variant in the SHO; not because it’s any comfier than the others, but because it connects the driver to Ford’s stunning new EcoBoost engine. This twin-turbo marvel, largely based on the existing Duratec but with changes designed to promote durability and heat resistance, turns the Taurus from a pleasant sedan to an electrifying one. In a straight line, there are very few other thirty-eight-thousand-dollar cars that won’t be immediately presented with the SHO’s tail lamps.

Our drive through the twisty roads of North Carolina revealed the SHO’s considerable strengths and not inconsiderable weakness. Let’s start with the good stuff. Although the bones of the Taurus are somewhat related to the first-gen Volvo S80, there’s very little Swedish reserve in the Ford’s chassis. Instead, we have that rarest of things: a front-drive-platform (with all-wheel-drive added) big sedan that is light on its feet at speed. The EPAS wacky-electro-steering works pretty well at all speeds, providing trustworthy information about the road below.

The all-wheel-drive is fundamentally a hack, being more or less the same transverse adaptation that sits under my wife’s Ford Flex, but the transmission response has been sharpened and the result is a car that scampers out of corners regardless of steering-wheel position. It’s no Mitsubishi Evolution, but it has torque that no stock Evo will ever have and the manumatic will run against the rev limiter all day without making an unwanted upshift. On back roads, it’s a fast car despite the size. One black mark: the wheel-mounted shifter paddles are abysmal. The design isn’t bad, and BMW uses something similar. The difference is that Ford’s paddles are made of flimsy plastic, making it difficult to tell under stress whether the shift request actually clicked through. The good news: the computer is too smart to blow up the engine, so a motivated driver can slap them five or six times on every corner entry in the confidence that the car will grab the lowest appropriate gear for corner exit.

Our backroad drive was the very definition of frustration. We started at the back of the pack and had to pass pretty much every poky journo in the group before pulling off for photos and repeating the process. It’s just so easy to pass untalented drivers in the SHO: let the engine bring you past the next car ahead, point the nose, rotate the car into the corner on the brakes, floor the throttle early, let the AWD sort it out.

The SHO’s suspension is remarkably decent, although a triple-digit attack of a camber-changing corner combination exceeded the available damping and allowed both rear wheels to leave the ground for a terrifying moment while we struggled to control more than two tons of speeding Ford. The reality is that this isn’t a razor-sharp cafe racer in the vein of the 1989 original. That car took its inspiration from the BMW M3, where this one is very much a 335i type of car: big power, big weight, luxury as the primary goal. And just like a 335i, it doesn’t stop. The brakes are miserable.

Let’s restate that, just so nobody misses it. The brakes on the SHO are in no way up to the task. It’s not just they aren’t track-worthy. They aren’t even ready for a fast road. This is a thirteen-second car with the same kind of brake hardware one might find on a Camry, and the mismatch is egregious. There is a “Performance Pack” coming with better brake pads, but what this car needs is the Brembos from the Shelby GT500, stat.

Faced with fifty miles of fast road, a splendid EcoBoost motivator, and brakes that quickly let the pedal sink to the floor on corner entry, we cut pace between corners and used lighter, sharper applications to minimize heat buildup. But we still hoovered up traffic like the world’s biggest Dyson. This is a very rapid car in the real world, made more so by the fact that the experience behind the wheel is just so soothing. Snuggled in the SHO’s massaging seats, listening to the superb sound system, visually amused by the yes-it’s-real-metal trim on the dashboard, it’s easy to not realize that the speedometer is quickly creeping up into go-to-jail-for-a-long-time areas. This car would be faster from point to point than a Ferrari Testarossa, at least as long as the brakes held up, but it’s as big as an S-Class. Think about that.

The 1986 Taurus carried the hopes of the Ford Motor Company on its shoulders. This 2010 model has a far more modest mission: to provide sedan buyers an affordable premium choice and to restore a bit of the tarnished luster to Ford’s American passenger-car business. It’s a small goal, but it’s an important one. For more than half a century, the American Dream was symbolized by a stylish, powerful, domestic sedan in one’s driveway. If any car can bring those days back, this is the one to do it. Don’t believe me? Open a door and take a look.

It seems that just about every time I turn the TV on these days, I’m flooded with images of violence and terroristic activity going on all around the world.  With attacks becoming more and more common, people from all walks of life are trying to stay as protected as possible.  In some cases, this means turning an everyday vehicle into a rolling tank capable of withstanding gunfire, mines and in some instances, rocket attacks. 

One company that specializes in these insane transformations is the Texas Armoring Corporation in San Antonio, TX.  TAC has been building armored vehicles for its customers for the better part of 30 years, and has worked on everything from old-school Cadillacs to the Bentley Flying Spur that was in the shop during our visit.   Simply tell the experts at TAC what you want to be able to protect yourself from, and they’ll develop a completely custom armor solution built around whatever vehicle you bring to them. 

Check out our videos after the jump to see how TAC can take your car and turn it into something from the likes of a James Bond film.

Ballistic Materials Demo w/ AK-47

Smoke Screen Countermeasure

Mercedes-Benz E63 AMG - Level B4 Armor

Infiniti FX50 - Level B6 Armor

Bentley Silver Spur Speed - Level B7 Armor

Chevy Suburban - Level B7 Armor

Escalade ESV - Level B7 Plus Armor

[View with PicLens]

 

Every once in a great while, one comes across a writer with a truly unique voice. Cherise LaPine Grueninger is one of those writers. Unfortunately, she and I spent the first few years of our acquaintance sparring over various issues related to auto enthusiasm in general and the VW hobby in particular. I’m pleased to state that we have now resolved these issues, almost entirely through a rather craven capitulation on my part, and that as a result Cherise will now be contributing to S:S:L on a recurring basis. Please make her welcome in this, her first column, as she details her love affair with a second-generation VW Golf — jb

Story by Cherise LaPine Grueninger

I come from VWvortex, where “speed” and “sport” fall by the wayside in pursuit of “life,” and maintaining the illusion of such.

As a contributor to said site, I was dazzled by the privileges granted to the motoring media. Press cars are fabulous and I’ve driven my share, through generosity, negotiation and subterfuge. A long-termer is even better—it’s always there when it’s needed, insurance is covered by the manufacturer, and just when it’s worn out its welcome, it’s spirited away and something new comes along as a replacement. It’s no wonder that some autojournos allow the reflected glory of a freebie-laden lifestyle to plump their vanity more than a little bit.

I’m vain as well, though not beyond my means—I’ve been a slave to second-generation Jettas and Golfs for ten years, always interested in the relationship that develops between a car and its owner, a relationship that’s impossible when cars are whisked in and out so frequently they’re nearly indistinguishable. So for the past few years, I wrote most of VWvortex’s features, a wholly unglamorous role that afforded me the luxury and pleasure of exploring these dynamics in depth. And thus, I consider myself proficient at the “life” component of our shared affliction of car love—that is, owning a particular car. The type of ownership that requires maintenance and insurance. True ownership is an emotional investment as much as a financial one; a fleeting sense of pride is its sought-after payoff.

I didn’t scout out perfect photogenic cars, but sought owners who would give me a worthwhile story. My subjects often showed a bit of reluctance. If a VW captured my attention, chances are its owner had mixed feelings about his or her investment; often they asked me if the sacrifices were worthwhile. It seemed an absurd question—as a result of these car projects, mother/daughter and father/son relationships were developed, Internet fame was achieved, and lifelong goals were fulfilled.

Yet my own relationship with my car deteriorated, because my quest to investigate those other relationships drained me. I simply did not have the time, the strength or the money to continue my project. Driven by a need to justify the incomplete state of my own car, I was able to convince myself it was some form of martyrdom on behalf of the greater good of the VW community —that, and I was contractually obligated to make appearances with a new addition to my household’s fleet. Modifying your car with other peoples’ money is loads of fun, even more so than flogging press cars, but this privilege was short-lived.

It wasn’t always this way; like most of the people I’ve met, I had grand delusions of owning a full-fledged, fully-restored show car. When I lived in New England, I had a dedicated (and decrepit) winter car and actually managed to avoid exposing my GTI to snow and salt; when I reached 25, I decided to take on a car payment for the first time. Both of these illicit lovers are gone and sorely missed, and the GTI has taken a much more realistic role in my life.

It was nearly seven years ago that we found each other. Heartbroken over the premature death of my beloved ‘92 Jetta, I spent weeks looking for a suitable spiritual successor, found in a Montana Green 1991 8v. I saw the color and simply had to have one, and had the foresight to know that I’d never be respected as a car chick unless I learned to drive a manual. I located the perfect car, happily overpaid on eBay, and my course was set.

Content with a low budget build, I found my stride one upgrade at a time. The “OEM-plus” method, where a car is modified by adding parts designed for higher-end versions of that same car and/or different model lines, lends itself especially well to slow progress; everything works together, but nothing is out of place alone. I’d go to shows and pull into the lineup, proud and eager to discuss my latest escapade or newest modification, only to be blown away by the big-money projects. I learned quickly to be content with my achievements and play to my strengths, and instead of competing at show after show, I poured my energy into writing.

Perhaps the best way to explain my GTI’s significance is to illustrate its role in wholly unexpected situations. This car has contributed to the demise of a relationship, found me a husband, and inspired multiple stalkers to trail me home. I don’t know if I would have landed at Speed:Sport:Life on my own, but luckily the GTI attracted one final stalker, who happened to be one of this site’s editors, and the rest is now history.

Though my professional relationship with Jack has been short, our acquaintanceship has long since been tinged with liberal doses of mutual admiration, mutual disdain, mutual get-the-hell-over-yourself. It wasn’t until recently that our interests aligned and we had an opportunity to meet. He asked if I would bring my GTI to a TrackDaze event at Autobahn Country Club—after all, he had a soft spot for the MKII, of course. What harm could come of it, really? I knew I’d be subject to the notorious once-over in which he appraises cars, clothing and chicks. If I could handle it, the car certainly could. We’ve helped each other through much worse.

It didn’t matter, anyway; if I wanted to go, I didn’t have a choice.

It’s my only fuckin’ car, I thought.

“Of course,” I said. “It’s my only car.” The day arrived, and like I’d done thousands of times before, I pulled through the gate, evaluated my surroundings, and parked strategically. My girl must have passed the test. That afternoon, Jack suggested I come out, in the GTI of course, for track time this fall.

I guess you missed the part when I said it’s my only fuckin’ car.

I smiled coyly and declined politely. “Thanks, but I promised my car I’d never do that to her.” Never underestimate the power of playing hard-to-get.

In the spectrum of project-car parents, one would probably find me close to the side marked “overprotective”. The emotional cost of replacement is far more significant than the actual financial data would show, not to mention the fact that most of the OEM and OEM-plus parts I’ve acquired are simply irreplaceable. It’s tough enough to find regular parts for an eighteen-year-old car. Yet I drive on the sprawling mess of Chicago’s tollways and interstates every day. A closed course might be safer — I’ve heard the lectures, thanks — but I don’t get to work on a closed course.

Don’t get me wrong; I’ve thoroughly enjoyed my minimal time on the track, I understand its value, and I’d love to learn to race… and I will, someday. My life is full of “somedays,” and as a woman who loves cars, those “somedays” fall within a strange hierarchy of priorities. I’ll own my dream Corrado, a 1994 Canadian-spec Ice Grey Violet SLC with the same purple and teal striped gray cloth Recaros I managed to source for my GTI; that is, when I have access to covered storage. It’s so far in the future that I’m sure no one will remember the Corrado SLC except me. But that’s okay, because by then I’ll be over the idea of owning another VW; given better resources, my attention will shift toward serving and servicing a carefully-chosen, come-hither Lotus the way only a Lotus deserves. In my dream scenario, with more glamour in my personal fleet, the GTI can finally become a true garage queen.

And I’m annoyed with myself, constantly, for aspiring to own more irreplaceable cars. Therein lies most of the strife of my adult life—almost every decision is made in context of the GTI’s well-being. Were it not for pure emotion, she’d be long since gone, perhaps sold to my ex-boyfriend, who for years generously and without (much) complaint helped me limp her along on a tight budget. Another potential buyer wanted me to remove the utterly unobtanium “Digifiz” cluster so she would pass inspection, and take off the super-rare OEM wheels because he thought they were ugly. I stayed awake nights, weighing my options, trembling over the idea of a mercy killing: drive her into Lake Michigan so I can say a clean goodbye, collect an insurance check and buy something much more practical, like a Miata.

My 20-year-old econobox exacerbates my vanity, but not without reason. We complement each other, we suit each other, we deserve each other. We bask together in the infrequent yet intoxicating attention she earns. Find me another MKII Golf about which the same could be said. There aren’t many left. I’ve looked. My dear, darling GTI is my partner in crime as we chase down life, or something like it. Someday I might be brave enough to street-park her in Chicago, in pursuit of something pretty or interesting; someday, my life might be balanced enough that the benefits will outweigh the risks. I’m not afraid to make promises, though, which I keep. She will never see a track.

So, you watched Travis Pastrana in his Subaru at the X Games and now you’re convinced that you can get your Mom’s Outback at least six feet off the ground if you were just given a dirt jump and the chance.  Well, it’s time to put down your PS3 game controller, turn off MotorStorm, and borrow a helmet.  Rallycross is the closest thing you’re probably going to get to the X games without any money or talent. 

Rallycross is similar to the more popular autocross, based on the fact that there is one car out on the course at a time racing against the clock.  The course is delineated by cones in a large empty area.  The important difference is that Rallycross is a race on dirt.  Yes, you and your car will get dirty.  The other main difference between the two sports is your autocross time is based on your single fastest lap around the track (like qualifying), whereas Rallycross is set up like a stage rally.  Each lap is a separate stage, and each stage counts toward your total and final time. 

As a total newb, I made the mistake of blowing a muddy corner at a Rallycross and sliding off the racecourse.  I had to go into reverse (once I finally found it, Goddamn Volkswagen!) to get back on the track.  I lost a crap load of time farting with the tranny, but since I was a seasoned autocrosser, I really didn’t care.  “I’ll get ‘em on the next lap,” I said -wrong!  That was when I learned the all important lesson about Rallycross, every lap/stage counts.  Just like in the bigs, like in the WRC.

THE COST
 
Rallycross is done on the dirt which is appropriate because the sport is dirt cheap.  You’re looking at about $25-40 per day of racing for entry fees.  You need to supply the car; almost any car will work (except for you guys who cut the springs out of your Civics after watching the Fast and the Furious).  Cars with standard street ride height seem to fair the best.  If your car is in the weeds, there is always the rental route.  Some guys like to rent-a-wreck and then pull an L.A.P.D. on the rental cars -which means “beat and release.”  Like most activities with a car you need a state issued driver’s license and a helmet (M2000 is good to go).  Rallycross clubs are sort of on the ground floor these days so loaner helmets aren’t easy to find.  Grab that helmet your uncle bought for his Harley but never uses.  If your uncle is being a dick about the helmet, then I/O Port Racing Supplies can get you a heck of a deal on an inexpensive one (www.ioportracing.com).
 
SANCTIONING BODIES
 
FRX, Formula Rally X (www.formularallyx.com), NASA, National Auto Sport Association (www.nasaproracing.com), SCCA, Sports Car Club of America (www.scca.com) all hold similar versions of Rallycross.  The rules between each club are pretty much the same.  Some clubs have more classes (SCCA) and some clubs will really work with you so you can get any car into some type of class no matter what hunk o’ junk you show up in (FRX).  Formula Rally X is the only club that doesn’t require a membership to participate, however if you are a NASA member you get an entry fee discount (racing coupons, yay!). 
 
THE HIGH
 
If you want to feel some adrenaline, just slide a car sideways at about forty-five miles per hour while kicking up a rooster tail of dirt behind you.  It’s awesome.  Rallycross is all about sliding.  Rallycross courses are designed for drifting front wheel drive, yes I said it, front wheel drive cars, around corners.  The pressure of getting around a twisty dirt track with almost no traction as fast as possible without making any bonehead mistakes (like sliding off the course like me) gets your blood flowing.  It’s racing, it’s dirty, it’s a good time.

CAR WEAR
 
With one car on track at a time and nothing hard to hit other than some orange cones, the car wear is pretty limited.  However, the amount of car wear at a Rallycross is directly dependant on your right foot and the chemical balance in your brain which measures the “I want to win at all costs” factor versus the “this car has to get me to work tomorrow” factor.  I’ve seen cars at Rallycrosses upside down.  I’ve seen oil pans ripped out from under the cars.  I’ve seen numbers of tires pulled off their beads.  This is off road people.  Ruts, and dips, and rocks can do bad things to the undercarriage of a car.  Lesson here, take it easy and leave the red Monte Carlo Rally Limited Edition Mini Cooper S at home.  Bring the Rabbit (and two spare tires).
 
YOUR DAY
 
Because the tracks are set up with cones, the tracks are always changing, which means on your first lap you don’t know where to turn left, or is it right?  Get there early and walk the course.  Some clubs will do a low speed parade lap around the track while driving the cars.  Just like autocrossing, half your day is racing and the other half is working (chasing knocked over cones).  When you work a Rallycross course you get the joy of eating dust as each car goes by.  Go ahead and invest (about $2) in one of those dust masks for painting houses.  Everyone working the course at a Rallycross looks like their trying to fend off SARS or the Swine Flu.

You are going to get between 3 to 5 shots at the course (depending on the club or the event).  Go fast, but don’t go too fast, remember every lap counts so any off course blunders will haunt you and keep you far from the trophy table.  You won’t have much time between runs to re-bead your tires (but I’ve seen guys miraculously pull it off with a little compressed air and a jack).  Stay off the cones, at some events they are worth a 5 second penalty added to your overall time.

You will be running with guys in your class, similarly modified vehicles classed based on two wheel drive or four wheel drive.  Which ever class you’re in, try to avoid going on track right after the water truck, although sometimes it can’t be avoided.  The water truck is a necessary evil at a Rallycross.  It keeps the dust down, but it makes the course as slippery as snot.
 
THE PEOPLE
 
These guys and gals like their rally racing.  Rallycross brings a mix of people from the rally side of things, the autocrossing community, even Baja 1000 teams, all with a single love for sliding in the dirt and kicking up dust. 

The guys from Formula Rally X also like their Micro Brew.  After a recent event, the entire crew of competitors took over a Mexican restaurant and the beers and bench racing flowed for hours.  I’ve noticed that Rallycrossers relish their dirt.  If a Rallycrosser was a character from Peanuts, he’d be Pig Pen.  They don’t spend much time keeping their cars clean (for good reason) and the fleet of Rallycross cars are a little rattier than that of road race cars or autocross cars.  However, Rallycross cars still look new compared to any Hobby Stock dirt track roundy-round racer. 

GLORY
 
I’ve never been to an event where they hand out trophies.  Each club has point systems for championships and NASA/FRX combined their national championship this year.  SCCA has a national championship as well.  But as far as glory goes, you won’t be standing on a podium showering Miss November in champagne here. 
 
OH, YOU WANT TO WIN, DO YA?
 
This is a relatively new sport.  It’s one that hasn’t had each class taken over by some rich guy who can afford a new Porsche every year to easily win the national championship.  Anyone could rise up and be the man in this world of racing. 

Like most motorsports, tires is the name of the game.  They actually divide some of the classes up based on the tires you use.  Purpose built rally racing tires put cars in the “rally” classes.  There is a ton of debate over which is the hot tire for the “stock” car classes, and the measurement between tread blocks has to meet a certain minimum to be considered legal for the class.  There is no real proven formula (car/tire) to winning at Rallycross.  The dirt and lack of traction is a great equalizer. 

But the guys who win swear the whole thing is done by left foot braking.  If you’re anything like me, your left leg is a clutch leg, and any attempt to use the clutch leg on the brake pedal only results in stopping way too fast and throwing a passenger through the windshield.  Go-Karters with their fancy European left foot braking skills would probably do well here.

RACER BOY GAUGE
 
Let’s review the Racer Boy gauge cluster and see what we got:
 
Fuel gauge is just an eighth of a tank shy of full because you still have money in your bank account.  The racing is inexpensive.
 
The tachometer is at 5,500 RPMs because this racing is a lot of fun.  Sliding cars sideways in the dirt brings a smile to everyone’s face.
 
The Speedometer is around 53 mph because the racing is safe.  There is nothing to hit except cones.  You can hit yourself if you’d like, but I wouldn’t recommend it.  Cars do very, very occasionally end up with the shiny side down.
 
The volts gauge is low because this is low impact racing.  You drive your street car to the event, punish it, and then wash the mud off using a quarter machine (word of advice, the pay and wash guys don’t like it when you leave thirty pounds of mud in the washing bays, so… hit them late at night when nobody is around).   Before you know it you’re back home and behind the computer posting/bragging on dirtyimpreza.com in no time.
 
The mileage is at around 5,000 miles.  Rallycross isn’t that hard on your car, but then again, it can be tough on the undercarriage and suspension.  You’ll probably rack up 5,000 miles worth of wear in about 5 miles worth of driving.
 
So, hit the links, find a race close by and head to the track.  You can get dirty too.

In a recent column, I detailed my experience driving the Switzer P800 Nissan GT-R. This outrageously powerful vehicle was as fast as any reasonable person could possibly want… but there was something missing. What was it? Perhaps it was the frisson of complete and utter terror. If that little chill is what you seek, Switzer is now ready to provide it in their “P800″ conversion for the Porsche GT2.

Eight hundred horsepower on pump gas: that’s Switzer’s promise. For just $39,000 above the already circa-200K price of a Porsche GT2, Switzer will take you to that magic number, which is basically what you would get with two tuned-up Ferrari Testarossa engines working in series. The press release speaks lovingly of “custom Garret GT30R-based turbochargers with custom billet compressor wheels on ball-bearing center sections in lightweight stainless turbine housings”. What does that mean?

We’re going to find out. At the end of this week, weather permitting (’cause this ain’t no all-weather Nissan) we’ll put the P800 through its high-speed paces. The only thing standing between us and delivering a thorough performance review to you, the reader, will be sanity and the long arm of the Ohio Highway Patrol. Until then, check out this photo and Switzer’s complete press release, below.

Oberlin, OH - 05JUN2009 - Switzer Announces GT2 Porsche Tuning PKGs to 800HP

2009 has been a busy year for Switzer Performance. In January, Switzer’s thousand-horsepower, 9-second SLEDGEHAMMER project car introduced the world to the Ohio-based tuning house, which followed up its debut act in February when a number of Switzer’s customer cars run 10 second 1/4 miles in 700 hp fully-automatic 997 turbo Porsches. March saw the introduction of Switzer’s Nissan R35 GTR performance upgrades, good for up to 800 hp on 93 octane pump gas.

This week, Tym Switzer is introducing his latest customer-ready performance packages for Porsche’s outstanding 997 GT2. The new GT2 packages range from a simple software revision to Switzer’s comprehensive flagship offering: the $39,000, 800 hp GT2 PKG shown (installed) in these pictures. “This 800 horsepower pump-gas package has evolved from those first SLEDGEHAMMER builds,” explains Tym, “but unlike the SLEDGEHAMMER, which used a stand-alone system, we’ve been able to keep the factory DME, making this a true bolt-on package. Everything else that went into the SLEDGEHAMMER builds is in this package, running on pump 93.”

Switzer’s 800 hp GT2 package makes use of custom Garret GT30R-based turbochargers with custom billet compressor wheels on ball-bearing center sections in lightweight stainless turbine housings. Switzer’s upgraded turbos compress massive amounts of air, while generating less heat than the stock units - heat which is channeled to the engine through Switzer’s own MONSTER intercoolers. The engine itself is fed air and fuel through larger injectors and a custom intake plenum with an oversized throttle-body. All this hardware is managed by the stock ECU, running Switzer-specific DME software calibrations. Perhaps the most controversial part of Switzer’s package, however, is the exhaust system. Switzer’s GT2 exhales through a GT2-specific version of the company’s existing 997 TT exhaust. “As much as we would have liked to stick with the GT2’s titanium canister, there was just no way to hit our power goal on pump gas with the stock system. It was just too restrictive and not designed to handle this much airflow.”

Switzer’s stated goal for the GT2 project was 800 crank horsepower on 93 octane pump gas with an efficient, linear power curve that efficiently put power to the ground and didn’t punish the driver with sudden spikes in torque and power. One look at the final dyno results reveals those goals have been met. “We were very happy to hit our target numbers, of course, but the best part is that the car is still so manageable on the street, at this power level. It is an everyday hyper-performing exotic, and I can’t wait to get it out on the track and see how it performs in the hands of a pro driver.”

The Switzer Performance 800 hp GT2 Porsche package is available now through Switzer Performance dealers. Contact Switzer Performance for more.

Price: $22,165
Major equipment: 2.5-liter Duratec four-cylinder, six-speed manual transmission, sunroof, SYNC, autodim rear-view mirror.

In the fleet: 5/15/2009 - 5/22/2009

Approximate mileage driven: 450

J. BARUTH: Remember all the things we used to love about “foreign” sedans back in the dino-sized Big Three days of the Eighties? They were good-looking, reasonably-sized, fuel-efficient vehicles that offered manual transmissions, interesting equipment, decent handling, and bulletproof durability.

So now here we are in 2009, and the average “Camcord” is a bloated, cost-conscious, automatic-transmission sled. Meanwhile, Ford has a car that reminds us more than any current mainstream Japanese sedan of what those great Accords and Stanzas used to be like. It’s not overtly sporty, the convincing-looking wheel covers aside, but it’s an acceptably rapid, very spacious, rather pleasant conveyance. To make things more interesting, you can now choose the option of a six-speed manual transmission to help the 175-horsepower Duratec kick the Fusion down the road.

Our initial drive revealed one potential issue with putting a “standard shift” in the 2010 Fusion: in normal operation, you can’t hear the engine rev. At all. Only when the tach reaches all the way around the dial can you hear the typically charmless Duratec growl so familiar to Spec Focus racers everywhere; the rest of the time, you’d better watch the dash to make the most out of each gallon. Our observed road test average of 27.9 mpg was remarkable considering the frequency with which we pasted the accelerator to the carpet.

The interior’s a step down from the 2010 Fusion Sport we tested a few months ago, but it’s on par with the competition. Seating, in particular, is remarkably decent and supportive for long trips. Best of all, Ford’s class-leading SYNC system appears here in reasonably complete form, complete with Bluetooth integration. There’s no better way to use an iPod and a modern mobile phone together, and if you don’t want to use the voice commands, browsing through even a 12,000-song iPod like mine is reasonably efficient with the on-screen menus.

The transmission itself is pleasant and easy to operate, with a smooth takeup and throws that are long but not onerous. If you want to make rapid progress, however, you’ll find yourself rowing the ‘box quite a bit. The days are long gone when a 3400-pound car with 175 horsepower was considered “fast”. Just keeping up with modern V8-powered SUVs requires a heavy right foot and a quick left one. When the road curves, it’s apparent that the suspension tuning is very different from that which let the Fusion Sport roll through Ohio’s Hocking Hills with such alacrity during our 2010 Mustang GT test. This car is optimized for ride, not handling. Luckily, the ride is awfully good, particularly on choppy freeways.

The rest of the car is what you’d expect from a 2010 Fusion: enormous trunk, reasonable rear-seat space, aggressive new looks, class-leading durability and reliability. Ford is not shy about pointing out that you’re likely to get the same service out of a new Fusion that an Accord buyer would get from Honda’s midsizer, and at a lower cost.

Ah, cost. The sticker on our well-equipped tester barely broke $22K. It would take a particularly lousy negotiator to take one of these cars out of the showroom for more than twenty grand flat. For that money, you’ll get a car which offers everything the Japanese competition does, plus an extra gear in the manual transmission and a more aggressive look. This is really all the car most people need, and if fuel prices continue their recent climb, more and more drivers will find themselves learning how to shift again.

Given our choice, we’d ask Ford to combine this powertrain with a more aggressive suspension and wheel/tire combination, but let’s be honest: who’d buy it? The sporty customers will still gravitate towards the rapid, rewarding Fusion Sport. Best to leave this car the way it is: as a modern-day Accord in a sea of Accords that look more and more like old Ford Torinos.

Carl Modesette: The thought hit me somewhere along the lazy, post-rush-hour, 12-mile drive home from picking up the 2009 Challenger SRT-8: “This may be the last fun car Dodge, as we know it, ever makes.”  It’s not exactly the kind of thought that cheers you up, but, as Barney Stinson so wisely admonishes on How I Met Your Mother: “When I get sad, I stop being sad and be awesome instead.”  And how to be awesome instead in a 425 horsepower car?  Drop 3 gears and flatten the accelerator, of course.

Given my druthers, I’d have chosen Brilliant Black Crystal Pearl over the TorRed of our tester, because as my wife says, it just looks mean. Nevertheless, I won’t lie and tell you I didn’t enjoy the temporary highway hero status conferred by our pun-colored sample; I just wouldn’t pay the $225 premium for the arrest-me-now-please paint.

I’ve always been a huge fan of the 6.1-liter Hemi SRT-8 powerplant, and I’m certainly no less a fan of its most current sheet-metal wrapper.  The 425 horsepower and 420 pound-feet of torque spinning through a Viper-sourced Tremec 6-speed provide hours of speed-shifting punches in the back, at least until the fuel (or points on your license) runs out.  Whether the Challenger SRT-8 is the fastest machine in a straight line or not, there’s something about the glasspack exhaust note as the revs build that will never get old.

Whether you like or dislike the “old” (read: retro) styling of the Challenger, there’s no denying its sheer road presence.  Of all the cars I’ve had the opportunity to sample here at S:S:L, the TorRed Challenger has gotten the most attention from everyone, period, point blank.  Whether cruising down the boulevard, stopping to get gas, or even at the church parking lot, the Challenger was never without a cadre of admirers.  Of today’s current crop of retro-muscle, the Challenger is probably the closest to its original inspiration, and even if the retro is lost on you, it’s hard to miss Chrysler’s big coupe on the road thanks to its exaggerated proportions.

While the Challenger is a blast to drive in a straight line, it stays true to the classic muscle-car paradigm when it comes to on-road ride and handling - that is to say, it’s not so good at either one.  Any assessment of handling when it comes to the Challenger will always have the “it handles surprisingly well… for a car this BIG” caveat attached.  Likewise, the best way to describe the ride quality of the car would be with this visual image: picture a fat guy riding an innertube being pulled by a speedboat on a rather choppy lake.  When the pavement gets a little irregular and the speeds start to increase, the springs and dampers just have a hard time keeping control of the Challenger’s heft.

There’s no doubt that the engineers at SRT have prepped the SRT- 8 reasonably well for track work. It has big brakes, thick rollbars, and reasonably well-sorted damping. On the road, however, the package doesn’t deliver top-notch ride quality or solid broken-road handling.

At the end of the day, the pragmatist in me takes a long look at the sticker price and can’t help but be, well, Challenged.  From a “base” price of $40,220, a Gas Guzzler Tax of $1700 and a Destination Charge of $725 takes the minimum actual base price to $42,645.  Beyond that, the potential Challenger buyer must pony up an additional $695 for the why-would-you-have-it-any-other-way 6-speed manual transmission, $225 for any paint color aside from black or silver, and $1,045 for “SRT Option Group II”, which basically means “bad ass stereo system”.  These options took the final tally to $44,610 on our tester, and this, folks, is where we have a problem.  See, that kind of money will buy you a Ford Shelby GT500, which is the best car ever.  That kind of money will also get you pretty close to a base C6 Corvette.  Even worse, once V-8 Camaros start hitting showrooms in numbers, you’ll be able to get a Camaro with the same power and torque for at least TEN GRAND less  - and you won’t have to pay extra for the 6-speed manual tranny.  So, as nostalgic and enjoyable as the Challenger is, I just can’t see the value - unless retro Mopar exclusivity is your primary aim.  And if it is, well, mo’par to ya.

Jack Baruth: Carl’s right. The SRT-8 costs serious money, and the competition offers either more power for about the same cash (Ford) or a lighter, faster car for less (Chevrolet, assuming the Camaro sticks around in the Government Motors era). But it’s worth noting that the original Challenger didn’t directly compete with the Mustang and Camaro. It was a larger, more luxurious car that offered a slightly older, more prestige-conscious audience the same shove in the back as the ponycars did.

Viewed in this light, the Challenger makes sense. It’s just plain bigger and more expensive than the equivalent Mustang or Camaro, and it offers what the competition doesn’t: a bored-out HEMI V-8 paired with slab-sided retro styling that looks more like an original Challenger than… an original Challenger does, honestly.

Truth be told, I could live with the weight penalty, the dark interior, and the steep sticker price, no questions asked. There are only two reasons why I’m not already an SRT-8 owner. The first is that I have an Audi S5, which is a better-looking, smoother, more luxurious, and more competent ponycar than the Mopar or the Camaro. The second, more serious one is this: Dodge won’t sell you an SRT-8 in white. You can have an R/T in white, but those of us who are fans of both “Vanishing Point” and stopping the car without drama on a road course are the proverbial you-know-what out of luck. A Challenger you can’t get in white? Get real.

[View with PicLens]

 

Everyone knows what the term midlife crisis means and the type of car that often accompanies it. I am not at this stage in my life (yet), but I have happened upon a term/concept which I find quite amusing - the quarterlife crisis. Many folks under forty are finding themselves in an area of life when you no longer need just a point A-point B commuter car, it can be something more exciting. However, the true quarterlife crisis person cannot afford fancy German marquees or luxury American cars with three-letter names. This calls for something with plenty of push under the hood mixed with hints of econobox-styling inside to keep the price lower. Say hello to the 2008 Mitsubishi Lancer Evolution GSR and welcome to the jungle, this car is fun and games.

Ok, I admit that “econobox-styled interior” may be a bit harsh since this Evo comes with very supportive Recaro seats up front that hug and squeeze me through every turn. The steering wheel feels solid in my hand, the sound system sounds good thanks to the nine (plus a subwoofer) Rockford Fosgate speakers, and the gauge cluster is clean and easy to read. The issue lies in the center stack area where the Evo looks almost empty compared to most other cars on the road, and even compared to other performance focused cars. Some cars these days have too much going on inside while this Evo doesn’t quite have enough. Also, if you ever want to swap that radio head unit out for an aftermarket model you now have a useless display sitting in your dash.

My very minor interior issues aside, this car is a carnival ride come to life, minus the standard carnival safety violations. The 2008 Mitsubishi Lancer Evolution GSR comes standard with dual front, front seat mounted side, side curtain, and driver’s side knee airbags.

The turbocharged 2.0L inline four-cylinder, which is mated to a five-speed manual transmission, puts all 291 horses and 300 lb-ft of torque out to the pavement via Mitsubishi’s Super All-Wheel Control (S-AWC) system. With settings for Tarmac, Gravel, and Snow, along with limited-slip differentials in the front and rear, the S-AWC is smarter than I am and keeps the Lancer Evolution moving quickly in a direction which doesn’t involve guardrails or other stationary objects. It alters the amount of power being fed to the front and rear tires to keep the power where it should be while balancing the available grip and traction. All I have to do is push the gas, shift the transmission, and point the car where I want it to go.

The Evo begs that I launch in first gear with a good amount of RPMs built up, otherwise the car leaves in a bogged down burble. Regardless of my launch speed, once into 2nd gear and above 3,000 RPMs it feels like a second-stage rocket booster has engaged. My body melds to those above-mentioned Recaro seats and I glance down at the speedometer half expecting it to read Ludicrous Speed. It doesn’t and I am not going that fast, but the sense of speed this car provides is fantastic. It builds like a rushing wave, starting small then bursting forth as the turbo screams out from under the hood and the exhaust note switches from droning to wailing.

It is not just fast in a straight line; the Evo hugs turns better than the Recaro seats hug my body. Front and rear stabilizer bars, a front strut tower bar, and the rear diffuser keep the ride flat and extremely confident in any corner I threw at the car. It is very difficult to make this car feel unstable and I was unable to do. It goes, turns, and stops with a purpose and I just held on and enjoyed every bit of the ride.

With a base MSRP of $32,990 ($35,685.00 as tested) this car is by no means inexpensive. That is if you are comparing it to most other cars, which it is not. This is a small price to pay to drive a beast in flared Mitsubishi clothing that can make anyone believe he or she is Sébastien Loeb. Not everyone will love this car due to the dramatic exterior styling and incessant exhaust drone.

Regardless of who would love this car however, anyone who actually gets to spend some time behind the wheel will love this car.

For information on 2009 Mitsubishi cars, trucks, and SUVs visit NADAguides.com, the vehicle pricing and information leader since 1933