Evil95GT
07-14-2008, 03:48 AM
In September 2007, I was invited to interview a couple of engineers at SRT Headquarters in Auburn Hills, Michigan. Finding myself in a position to have one on one conversations with the folks who are responsible for some of the most competitive performance cars on the road was a gift in itself. When I signed up for this opportunity, I had no indication that "hell-rides" would be included in the deal.
Jerry and I had just wrapped up a conversation with Erich Heuschele, of SRT Vehicle Dynamics. As Erich walked us through the SRT HQ corridor, he stopped to grab a couple of sets of keys. One set went to a Caliber SRT4, the other to a 2006 Viper SRT10. :do what:
I quickly collected my thoughts. 500 HP. Two seats. Multiple SCCA autocross champion piloting the car. The adrenaline rush began before we even reached the "exit" sign at the facility.
The husband was quick to say "Go ahead.........you go for the ride. I'll go along another time". Lucky for him, because if he had so much as thought about stealing that chance for himself, I would have gnawed his kneecaps off right there in the SRT parking lot.
As we walked though the parking lot, we waded through a sea of SRT vehicles. There were no less than six of each model. We walked through the aisle of Vipers, and it was heartbreaking to think that each and every car sitting there would eventually meet a crusher. Hell, I'd take one that was worked over AND wrecked at all four corners!
My sadness was quickly replaced with glee as Erich chose the blue coupe adorned with dual white stripes. As I sat down in the car, it took a bit of adjusting. This isn't at all what I'm used to. The nose on the car looked extremely long. I looked directly behind my seat, and was staring at a back window. And the seats.........do I really need to go into the seats? I've long praised Porsche for their ability to create a seat that literally embraces one's derriere. The Viper seats far surpassed those of the Porsche, almost clinging to your doopie passionately.
When Erich fired up the engine, again, something seemed awkward. The V8 rumble wasn't there. The sound I heard was in a league all its own. It certainly wasn't a wimpy sound. It seemed to have a faster rev than a V8, and though quieter than I had expected, the engine had the most amazing lope. I wondered if this could be heaven.
We exited the driveway nice and easy. Erich and I talked about how certain journalists verbally slam the Viper for the lack of comfort, the gas mileage, and the fact that the trunk isn't vast enough to haul multiple golf bags. When I quipped that the Viper simply wasn't intended for folks worried about those things, Erich flashed a wide grin, confirming that he and I were on the same page.
When Erich remained in second gear as he prepared to merge on to the highway, I knew that it was go time. At the end of the on-ramp, Erich nailed the gas. With insane precision, he hit the gears fast and hard. The tail end of the car was more unstable than my sister-in-law, sliding from side to side as though it was on ice. It was almost as though Erich and the Viper were involved in a battle, as he confidently countersteered the car while working the gas, the gearbox, AND the clutch. Right then and there, I knew this car was a force to be reckoned with.............something that was never meant to be in the hands of a novice driver. Luckily, my pilot had the expertise and the proficiency to handle something with insane horsepower.
We reached fifth gear, and Erich let me know that we were approaching 160 MPH. Needless to say, this was the highest speed I've ever traveled in ANY vehicle. I felt as though a 300 pound weight was pushing my body deep into the butt-hugging seat, a feeling I attribute to the abundance of torque the V10 puts out. Erich, while juggling steering, clutch, accelerator, and shifter, said "We still have another gear to go". At that point, my jaw began hurting due to the "Black Hole Sun" style smile I had plastered across my face.
Without warning, Erich jabbed the brake pedal. The seat belt held my body firmly in place, and I marvelled at how rapidly the car left the triple digits and slowed to a stop.
When we returned to the facility, I did not want to get out of the Viper. I figured that this car had mostly everything I needed, and that I could just live inside the passenger compartment. Maybe I just wasn't ready for the hell-ride to come to an end. Or perhaps I knew that the second I opened that door, I was back to reality.
And so it was. My ride in the fastest car I've ever been in had come to an end. The Mustang GT that I thought was fast was really nothing more than underdog, still trailing the Viper by at LEAST 100 HP. Everything about the car felt (and still feels) lowly compared to that bad asp that spoiled me on an overcast September day. And that Porsche that I was so incredibly obsessed with? All visions have been replaced by a reptilian variant that can be had for much much cheaper.
*Edit* When I asked Erich to snap a picture and send it to me, he informed me that regretfully, "our" Viper had become a test mule casualty.
Jerry and I had just wrapped up a conversation with Erich Heuschele, of SRT Vehicle Dynamics. As Erich walked us through the SRT HQ corridor, he stopped to grab a couple of sets of keys. One set went to a Caliber SRT4, the other to a 2006 Viper SRT10. :do what:
I quickly collected my thoughts. 500 HP. Two seats. Multiple SCCA autocross champion piloting the car. The adrenaline rush began before we even reached the "exit" sign at the facility.
The husband was quick to say "Go ahead.........you go for the ride. I'll go along another time". Lucky for him, because if he had so much as thought about stealing that chance for himself, I would have gnawed his kneecaps off right there in the SRT parking lot.
As we walked though the parking lot, we waded through a sea of SRT vehicles. There were no less than six of each model. We walked through the aisle of Vipers, and it was heartbreaking to think that each and every car sitting there would eventually meet a crusher. Hell, I'd take one that was worked over AND wrecked at all four corners!
My sadness was quickly replaced with glee as Erich chose the blue coupe adorned with dual white stripes. As I sat down in the car, it took a bit of adjusting. This isn't at all what I'm used to. The nose on the car looked extremely long. I looked directly behind my seat, and was staring at a back window. And the seats.........do I really need to go into the seats? I've long praised Porsche for their ability to create a seat that literally embraces one's derriere. The Viper seats far surpassed those of the Porsche, almost clinging to your doopie passionately.
When Erich fired up the engine, again, something seemed awkward. The V8 rumble wasn't there. The sound I heard was in a league all its own. It certainly wasn't a wimpy sound. It seemed to have a faster rev than a V8, and though quieter than I had expected, the engine had the most amazing lope. I wondered if this could be heaven.
We exited the driveway nice and easy. Erich and I talked about how certain journalists verbally slam the Viper for the lack of comfort, the gas mileage, and the fact that the trunk isn't vast enough to haul multiple golf bags. When I quipped that the Viper simply wasn't intended for folks worried about those things, Erich flashed a wide grin, confirming that he and I were on the same page.
When Erich remained in second gear as he prepared to merge on to the highway, I knew that it was go time. At the end of the on-ramp, Erich nailed the gas. With insane precision, he hit the gears fast and hard. The tail end of the car was more unstable than my sister-in-law, sliding from side to side as though it was on ice. It was almost as though Erich and the Viper were involved in a battle, as he confidently countersteered the car while working the gas, the gearbox, AND the clutch. Right then and there, I knew this car was a force to be reckoned with.............something that was never meant to be in the hands of a novice driver. Luckily, my pilot had the expertise and the proficiency to handle something with insane horsepower.
We reached fifth gear, and Erich let me know that we were approaching 160 MPH. Needless to say, this was the highest speed I've ever traveled in ANY vehicle. I felt as though a 300 pound weight was pushing my body deep into the butt-hugging seat, a feeling I attribute to the abundance of torque the V10 puts out. Erich, while juggling steering, clutch, accelerator, and shifter, said "We still have another gear to go". At that point, my jaw began hurting due to the "Black Hole Sun" style smile I had plastered across my face.
Without warning, Erich jabbed the brake pedal. The seat belt held my body firmly in place, and I marvelled at how rapidly the car left the triple digits and slowed to a stop.
When we returned to the facility, I did not want to get out of the Viper. I figured that this car had mostly everything I needed, and that I could just live inside the passenger compartment. Maybe I just wasn't ready for the hell-ride to come to an end. Or perhaps I knew that the second I opened that door, I was back to reality.
And so it was. My ride in the fastest car I've ever been in had come to an end. The Mustang GT that I thought was fast was really nothing more than underdog, still trailing the Viper by at LEAST 100 HP. Everything about the car felt (and still feels) lowly compared to that bad asp that spoiled me on an overcast September day. And that Porsche that I was so incredibly obsessed with? All visions have been replaced by a reptilian variant that can be had for much much cheaper.
*Edit* When I asked Erich to snap a picture and send it to me, he informed me that regretfully, "our" Viper had become a test mule casualty.