Teh Car Blogz

One thing I’ve noticed about car magazines in the US (besides the boring ones like Consumer Reports) is that above anything, they like to emphasize acceleration as a defining characteristic of a car’s worth. It’s not hard to notice. On the front cover of the latest Car and Driver, they have a few headlines. The big one proclaims “The Fast Lane!: BMW 135i, 0-60 4.7s.” Further down there’s “Nissan GT-R 0-60 3.3.” At the bottom, in small font is “The Slow Lane: Smart ForTwo, 0-60 14.4s.”

Let me be the first one to say: Who gives a shit how fast a Smart Car gets to sixty miles an hour? No one’s going to be drag-racing from light to light in their Smart. A Smart is an economical fashion accessory, like a Swatch (imagine that!) It’s a conversation piece. It’s the new Prius. The only people racing smarts are the ones with Smartuki conversions, so all three of them. The 0-60 time on a Smart is about as relevant as the fuel efficiency of a dump truck.
But this is America, where we have (comparatively) cheap gas, the roads are wide and straight, and if you’re not going 80 on the highway, you’re getting run over. So magazines shout about how fast a car can reach 60 - which is a pretty arbitrary number.

There are a lot of fast cars out there. But let me let you in on a secret: some of them really, truly suck.

A prime example: the newest version of Mitsubishi’s “never-say-die” Eclipse GT, with it’s optional V6. This car has a ton of power. It’s an iron-block 3.8L V6 with variable valve timing, dual overhead cams operating 4 valves per cylinder, and a 6-speed transaxle. Sounds like fun; the newest one makes an entirely reasonable 263 horsepower and 260 ft-lbs of torque. On paper, that’s a lot of power and a whole lot of low-end grunt. Sounds like fun.

Reality is somewhat different. The Eclipse is based on the Galant chassis, so it’s pretty heavy - 3472 lbs, to be exact. It sends all that grunt to the front wheels through an open differential and unequal-length half shafts. So while it might be able to hit sixty in 5.9 seconds (woohoo!) you get to deal with rampant wheelspin, torque steer that makes you think you’d be better off without a steering wheel, and some more wheelspin. In the rain, an Eclipse GT will get spanked - every time - by a non-turbo Subaru from a dig.

And what’s worse is that that huge powerful engine is just that - huge. The old (1st and 2nd Generation) Eclipses used a 2.0L turbo four-banger to get to sixty in about the same time it takes the new V6 Eclipse, but as you’d imagine an iron-block V6 with nearly twice the displacement, twice the camshafts, 50 % more valves, 50 % more pistons and connecting rods, and a bunch of other heavy crap weighs a lot more than a four-cylinder. Throw an Eclipse GT into a corner and it starts to cry. The front tires scream in desperation, the steering goes numb, and the fun ends. That is, if it ever even started in the first place. No car has ever been so unable to cash the checks that it’s aggressive styling writes as the 4th-Gen Eclipse.

Or, how about another car that was recently reviewed here, the Caliber SRT-4? The SRT-4 has a certain appeal: monstrous engine in a tiny chassis, tons of rubber, stick shift, low price. Despite it’s flaws I rated it fairly highly for the rush it delivers when the turbo spools. But from a realistic standpoint (ie, when you’re not on a race track) the SRT-4 is fairly awful. The engineers might as well have not put any suspension on it at all; the SRT-4 is a chiropractor’s dream (or nightmare, it depends.) The clutch makes your thigh hurt after about an hour in traffic, and despite all this roughness, it’s just not fond of corners: too high of a center of gravity, fake limited slip diff, suspension that’s simply too stiff to actually absorb bumps mid-corner. Despite having a 50-horsepower advantage over a WRX, I know which I’d put my money on in a dash across a series of backroads.

Or how about the limited-edition Shelby Mustang GT500? On paper, it’s astounding: 500 horsepower supercharged V8, six-speed manual, limited-slip differential for around 43 grand (before ridiculous dealer gouging.) On the road, it feels half-baked. The engine is a 5.4L unit with four cams, 32 valves, an iron block, and a big heavy supercharger and all the associated ancillaries (intercooler, piping, etc.) More than 60% of the weight is over the front end, which perversely enough leads to a 500 horsepower rear-wheel drive musclecar who’s predominant handling characteristic is unending understeer followed by alarming, uncontrollable oversteer. Plus, it retains the GT’s solid rear axle, which is great for standing-start acceleration but gets sort of jittery around corners. Wonderful. While the last-generation SVT Cobra might have had 110 less horsepower (stock, anyway) it was a much more rewarding car to drive: 4.6L all-aluminum V8 kept the weight down in the front, and fully independent rear suspension meant it could turn as well as go straight. That’s why ‘03-’04 supercharged Cobras are so expensive and so hard to find, while Shelby GT500’s continue to sit on dealer lots for absurd amounts of time with mindless “market-adjustment” markups on the stickers. If dealers were being realistic about the desirability of the GT500, they would sell them at invoice. Why pay $60,000 for a live-axle Mustang that’s not even that quick (4.7s to sixty) when you can spend a bit less and get a real, honest-to-god American sports car: the LS3-powered C6 Corvette, with 430 horsepower and world-class handling?

With each succeeding generation, cars get heavier and heavier. Consumers demand more standard luxury and safety features, more ride isolation and quietness, more space, and more power. So we get heavier cars with monsterous engines that can rip down a quarter-mile track like it was their job, but take them on a real road, and they beg for mercy. Where’s the fun in there?

Some of the most fun-to-drive cars, in my experience, are also pretty darn slow. One outstanding example is the first-generation Scion xB with a manual transmission. It’s a little front-wheel-drive toaster with a 1.5L four cylinder that churns out a thundering 108 horsepower. And no, it’s not fast by anyone’s standards - it has 108 horsepower. But it’s a hoot. The gearshift is precise and very light, with a satisfying “snick” when you grab a gear, light and tight clutch takeup, nicely-weighted steering, and strong brakes. The engine might not have a lot of poke but you can absolutely use 100% of it’s power whenever you want to, and there’s something to be said for that. Plus, a small-displacement high-strung engine like that loves to rev. Just loves it. It’s got verve, zing, that undefinable something that says “let’s play!” It’s a hoot. You can wring an xB out to redline in 1st through 3rd around town, snatching shifts and watching the weird little center-mount tachometer rise and fall and have a darned good time. Oh, and get about 40 miles a gallon. And haul an entire drumset. Now why do you need that Explorer, again?

Or how about the Miata? The Miata has never, in it’s 19 year production run, been known for being fast. The most powerful factory Miata had 178 horsepower. A new Escalade is faster to 60 than a new Miata. So is a V8 Tundra, a Nissan Titan, a Toyota Sequoia, a Pathfinder, and a bunch of other overpowered trucks. But a Miata is about the most fun you can have with pants on for a reasonable price. The gearshift is like an extension of your mind, the handling is completely flat and body-roll free, but still absorbent, the steering is razor-sharp and full of feel, and the engine has just enough power to keep you entertained. Oh, and it takes one arm and about 12 seconds to put the top down. Two clips on the headliner, and swing the roof back - and you’re done. A Miata is in many ways the ultimate inexpensive sports car. That is, you get enjoyment from driving it no matter what you’re doing. Flying down a curvy road, testing the limits of adhesion? Rewarding, challenging, yet safe. Putting the top down to cruise downtown with a lady friend to get a cup of coffee? Enjoy the warm air blowing around, listening to music, smelling the flowers and seeing the sights and sounds. Commuting to work? 30+ miles a gallon. It’s a car that’s designed primarily to bring joy to the driver, not a car designed to perform an arbitrary acceleration test, and that’s why they’re so popular.

The original Lotus Elise only had 118 horsepower, but it weighed less than a ton dripping wet and had perfect weight balance, sharp turn-in, immaculate handling and was light on it’s toes. It became an icon for motorists and is still considered to be one of the best definitions of a driver’s car. Ditto the Cateram 7. And the Toyota MR2. A first-generation MR2 is a car that I simply can’t imagine Toyota making today - it was so alive with feeling and adjustability, with a revvy, willing engine and predictable, fun handling. They’re still a hoot to drive today.

So if you’re thinking of dumping 50 grand on a sports car, instead of a fat, heavy GT500 - why not check out a Lotus? Or a Miata? Or heck, a turbo Solstice? You might find you’ve just been missing the point the whole time.

This entry was posted on Wednesday, April 30th, 2008 at 1:09 pm and is filed under Car Theory, Thought Of The Day, Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.