Thursday, September 17, 2015

Sixth-Gen Camaro-oh-yes!

Listen…. We need to talk. It’s not you, it’s me. And unlike every other time you’ve ever heard this, it’s actually true.

Recently, I wrote a blog on the sixth-gen Camaro. It consisted mostly of my abject disappointment in the car. And while those thoughts haven’t been completely assuaged, the car’s looks have been dramatically growing on me. Its powerfully bulged hood (heh-heh), its more aggressive front fascia and its wonderfully updated interior, all subtly burrow their way into my cerebellum, eliciting subtle feel goods – I still hate the rear fascia, this may never change, which is sad when you think about it; as that’s all most will get to see in the wild.

Image courtesy of Chevrolet
While the car has grown on me, you may be asking yourself what inspired such a 180 degree change in thinking. 455 horses are a wonderful place to start. If you’re reading this, you are most likely a worshiper of horse power yourself, and regardless of how you look at it, 455 is hefty. To put that in perspective, that is more horse power than the pinnacle of muscle cars, the 1970 Chevelle SS with the revered LS6! While the Chevelle’s factory rating was, and is, arguable—most people suspect the motor was putting out more like 500 horsepower, instead of the 450 it was rated at—it still doesn’t change the fact that the sixth generation Camaro would beat it up on the playground, steal its lunch money and then wait for Chevelle’s dad to come over after school to set things straight, only to beat the shit out of his dad too.  

I may have gotten carried away with my metaphor, but my point is, this modern muscle car is lightyears ahead of anything past, or even dare I say present.

The flagship model, the Camaro SS, loses 390 pounds compared to the previous generation… 390! They basically Jenny-Craiged the hell out of the thing. The extensive use of composites throughout the car aid the loss of weight; which is even more spectacular when you considered that the brand new LT1 The General saw fit to bestow upon it (which debuted in the 2015 Corvette), has all sorts of components that actually add weight. Lighter cup holders? More horsepower? Hey, I’m in!

Image courtesy of Chevrolet
And now, all of that weight is not only offset with light weight components, it now has the flattest torque curve known to man, thanks to its Corvette-sourced LT1 V8. This motor has 400 lb.-ft. from 2,500 rpm on and a whopping 300 AT IDLE! That is more torque than any Civic has ever dreamed of making at any RPM.


So what does it all mean, Basil? It means that the sixth-generation Camaro is, hands-down, one of the best performing vehicles out there. 60 mph comes in just 4 seconds, with the quarter mile ending in a scant 12.3 seconds at 116 mph when equipped with the paddle shifted automatic (12.5 if you wish to row your own cogs).

And don’t let those straight line numbers fool you, this pony can turn. Capable of .97 g on the skidpad, this is the best handling Camaro of all time, thanks in no small part to the fact that the magnetic ride suspension is now available on SS Camaros, instead of just the 1LE and ZL1 cars.
Have those numbers impressed you, or possibly changed your mind about how you feel about the new-generation Camaro? If it has, then you now know how I’m feeling. My disdain for the next-generation Camaro has slowly ebbed away and a firmly founded fondness has formed in its place – and a bulging hood (heh-heh).


With the release of the sixth-generation Camaro, General Motors has placed itself at the top of the hotly contested muscle-car market. With specialty models (Z28, 1LE, ZL1) more than likely on their way, the Camaro is set to reign supreme for many years to come. Hellcat, you better watch your back.

See a full list of stats here.

Friday, May 15, 2015

Camar-oh no

For months, we have been fed teaser photos of the upcoming sixth-generation Camaro. From exhaust tips to the dash frame, each new photo seemed to signal a new era for the beloved pony car. For me, it was reassurance and hope that Camaro would regain the top spot in a highly contested segment. With the (fairly) recent series of unveiling of substantially innovative designs from the general’s (GM’s) nemeses— in the form of the Hellcat and new Mustang— they had their work cut out for them; but I had complete faith that they would show-up with an entirely new Camaro and blow us away.




This morning, that hope was shattered by the leaked photos of the “sixth-generation” Camaro. I was so disappointed I don’t even know where to begin.

I suppose I’ll begin with the good, since it’s not all bad (barely). The front end of the redesigned Camaro is a success in my book. Yes, it looks like the front end Bumble Bee was sporting in the latest Transformers movie, as it should since it was a prototype for this car, and that is a good thing. The new front end, headlights and hood look very aggressive and are an enjoyable departure from the previous generation model. The car is reportedly substantially lighter than the previous generation, by 200 pounds, due to the extensive use of light-weight materials throughout the car. But I have to wonder, does Chevrolet really think someone is going to say to themselves “You say it’s lighter!? I need to get down to my dealership to buy one of these RIGHT NOW!” No. No one says that. It’s a nice feature, and one that enthusiasts will love and exploit, but it isn’t going to move Camaros off the lot. Hell, I’ll just keep driving my old Camaro and lose 10 pounds—same thing right? I think we all expected more weight savings than 200 pounds. 

Now for the bad, and the list is extensive. Considering the substantial build up to this car, I (and everyone I know) was expecting a ground breaking departure from the fifth-generation car. It makes me sick to say this, but I was hoping for the kind of change Ford brought to the table with its redesigned Mustang.

FULL DISCLOSURE: I’m supposed to be unbiased as a journalist, but as a car guy, I’ve always disdained Mustangs (and their pretentious owners who, in general, seem to be auto-illiterate posers). However, the new model is so good looking that I frequently see it in the wild and I can’t keep my eyes off of it. Now, back that up with a great interior and a substantial upgrade in its drive train and you have a winning combination that threatens to bury the Camaro in sales. It’s just like Cold Case Files…. It’s just like Cold Case Files (see Step Brothers for reference).

The teaser photos leading up to the sixth-generation Camaro frequently showed us a silhouetted rear quarter and roof line. This would lead you to believe that the new car has a completely different shape. Does it? Absolutely not. It appears to be about the same dimensions as the outgoing model. They also took a stab at redesigning the rear end and they missed… again.

The taillights on the fifth-gen were redesigned for the 2014 model year. They weren’t my favorite, but then again, the taillights on the newer Camaros have never seemed to get it right in my book. But now, instead of coming up with a new design or incorporating something retro, they chose to steal the lights off of the new Corvette. Go take a look at them and tell me they didn’t just hack them off of the Corvette and paste them on the Camaro. Maybe one of the designers was hungover and late for a presentation, so he just photoshopped the Corvette’s taillights onto the new Camaro and called it a day.

Every generation of the Camaro’s evolution before this were huge departures from one another. But this, this should be generation 5.1. Kind of like when they did a front-end redesign on the fourth-gen Camaro in 1998. I don’t see how this classifies as a “sixth-generation” Camaro, seeing as how the entire structure of the vehicle is virtually the same, despite being built on the brand's popular Alpha architecture. I was unaware that a slight redesign of the front and rear fascia, lightening the body and (most likely) a new interior constitutes an entire new generation.

Which brings me to my final point, the car is just so damn disappointing. Yes it will come with a direct-injected LT1, it will be lighter than ever and it will most likely be one of the best performing Camaros of all time; but I fail to see how it will succeed against very stiff opposition.

General Motors has disappointed me a lot lately (with the exclusion of the Corvette). Every other American brand has been taking risks and pushing boundaries, where GM hesitates unless someone has already established a market for them. They have no decent hot hatch, no desert-running Baja truck (unless you count one modified by Callaway) and now a second-rate muscle car. They killed off Pontiac just when the G8 was just starting to look amazing and replaced it with the SS; which is one of the most mundane looking high-performance cars of all time. The Dodge Charger is now, in my opinion, virtually unrivaled in the segment. 

GM just seems to miss the mark a lot these days even though their build quality and interiors are light years more advanced. Camaro seems to have fallen victim to this recurring theme of lack-luster design practices. Once the hype from the latest iteration of Transformers dies off, I’m not sure what motivation will be left to buy one.


Is this the beginning of the end for the marque? I don’t know. I hope not. But we’ve seen the Camaro disappear once before due to dwindling sales, and I can’t escape the feeling that we are headed for a similar extinction event. 

UPDATE: Jalopnik just release an internal memo giving even more detail about the new Camaro and shedding some light on concerns GM has about the vehicle, see it here

Friday, October 24, 2014

Perfecto!.... Alle Fine (Eventually)

Lamborghini is a car company known for its mind-bendingly great supercars. In fact, the company invented what is today the recipe for a supercar. In 1965, Lamborghini released the Miura. The world’s first mid-engine supercar. And ever since its inception, every other supercar manufacturer in the world-- save maybe Porsche-- have followed Lamborghini’s recipe for success. Does that make Lamborghini the origin of the supercar, and even hypercar, movement? I certainly think so. And despite being the biggest Lamborghini fan you will ever meet, and as much as it pains me to say this, I usually find myself disappointed at the launch of each new model.

When the Miura was released, it was unlike any car before it. Sculpted by Bertone, the beautiful lines that rise and fall, mimicking, and possibly exceeding, the subtle curves of a woman, immediately inspire awe. I’m in no way saying that Bertone surpasses God in the understanding of aesthetic beauty. But, am I saying they come as close as humanly possible? Yes, yes I am. And before anyone starts busting my chops over this statement, go look at Bertone’s track record and then tell me I’m wrong. There were many beautiful cars before it, and there have been many beautiful cars since, but few as breathtaking as the original Miura (or better yet, the Miura SV).

And while Lamborghini set a new benchmark in form and functionality when the Miura was conceived, there have been few successes in Lamborghini’s portfolio that have rivaled the initial success of the Miura. I’m not saying that Lamborghinis aren’t some of the most beautiful cars in the world. Quite the contrary actually. I’m not a Lambo fan just because of their performance, their extensive use of composite materials, or the unearthly howl they emit while showing a car with a prancing horse emblem on it their perfectly sculpted LED taillights. In this case, I’m saying Lamborghinis are the most beautiful supercars out there… eventually.

If you are a Lambo fan, like myself; think on your favorite Lamborghini. It is most likely something along the lines of a Countach LP5000, Diablo GTR, Murcielago LP670-4 SV or Gallardo Super Trofeo. What do all of these models have in common? They weren’t the initial offering. Your favorite Lamborghini is most likely a model that evolved into the pinnacle of that offering after the course of six to eight years.

Sure, the initial Murcielago looked good. But I remember being left disappointed at how unaggressive it appeared to be. Not to mention the fact that it had retained the ageing power plant from yesteryear. Then I thought back to the Diablo and Countach. Both of these models looked good at first, but by the time their production run had ended, they were intimidating works of art. The Diablo SV was the first model car I ever bought, and has been one of my dream cars ever since. The moral of the story? Lamborghini does fine at the initial rendering, and then tweaks and tinkers until that model could not possibly look any better; and then they launch a new one. That is, until the Aventador.

The Aventador is, in my opinion, the first offering from Lamborghini that has been everything it should be from the get go. Match that will the fact that they finally replace an engine that was originally developed by Giampaolo Dallara for the 350GT in 1964, and you have a winning combination. The aggressive, fighter plane-esque, design Lamborghini has become known for, has carried over from the latest Murcielago model straight into the bold, brash, unapologetic lines of the Aventador. Also, the fact that it sprints from naught to 60 mph in a scant 2.9 seconds doesn’t hurt either. But even if this car were as slow as a hybrid, I would still sell my kidney, and possibly other body parts, to own one.

Hopefully this marks a new chapter in Lamborghini history. Now that the Hurracan has been release, which I am equally impressed with, if not maybe a little less, I hope the trend of producing kick ass looking cars right out of the gate continues. And if you want an amazing car right out of the gate, go check out the Sesto Elemento!

Wednesday, August 21, 2013

Rivalry: A Formula for Sucess

What makes a great rivalry? Maybe this philosophical quandary can be answered more simply by what does not constitute a rivalry. A rivalry is not one person being readily defeated time and time again. It is not a skilled person versus and inept one. No, a rivalry starts with two people whose skill and determination are nearly equal in every quantifiable way, but one succeeds more frequently to the dismay of his adversary.

Many get their first taste of rivalry simply by being birthed. Anyone who didn’t grow up an only child can testify to the constant, unrelenting urge to compete with their siblings; psychologists have even given it a clever name, sibling rivalry. Imagine that. At one point or another you will have been edged out, shown up, or any other combination of directional words, by your sibling(s). Now, most of us grow up and learn to be happy for our parents’ other offspring, at least hopefully. But for some, the greatest rivalries of their lives have yet to emerge, some will see these take on a life of their own, to be later referred to as legendary.

I dare say rivalry spawned sport. The deep-seated ancestral urge to prove that one person is better than another has been a building block of modern society and sport alike. But one sport stands out in my mind as having the most frequent, and greatest, rivalries in the world, that sport is Formula 1.

Formula 1’s long and illustrious history is chalked-full of great driver battles, and yes, you guessed it, rivalries. These rivalries are innate to the sport of motor racing as it pits man against man in an Olympiad of nerves and skill. Sure the outcomes were influenced by pit-crews, engineers and even budgets, but in most of the greatest rivalries Formula 1 has ever seen, it has come down to just one factor, the driver.

From modern day rivalries, such as teammates Sebastian Vettel and Mark Weber, to past rivalries, such as the mythical battle between Alain Prost and Ayrton Senna, which preceded Senna’s death in 1994, there have been, and always will be, great rivalries within the sport. But, as great as they may have been, few have compared in magnitude to the bitter rivalry between James Hunt and Niki Lauda, and their savage battle for the World Champion title during the 1976 season.

1976 would become a perfect storm for two drivers who were polar opposites. The season would test both drivers and eventually crown one, World Champion.

James Hunt began his career racing Austin Minis, he was eventually picked up by Hesketh to race Formula 3. The team was sponsored solely by a rich Englishman by the name of Lord Hesketh, a playboy who wanted to have as much fun as possible; his foray into Formula 3, and eventually Formula 1, was his opportunity to do just that. The entire team was then labeled playboys and were often seen drinking champagne at the end of races no matter the outcome. Hunt had no problem fitting in with the team. After he and a teammate wrecked both Hesketh sponsored Formula 3 cars, Hesketh rented a Formula 2 car. After Hesketh deduced that Formula 2 was hardly more expensive than Formula 1, the team entered the top flight of motor sport.

Most teams viewed the Hesketh team as a joke, thinking that the team was only out to have a good time, which they were, but they did, however, have some very apt engineers. Hunt drove an impressive inaugural season in which his highest finish was second at the United States Grand Prix. This feat won him a Campbell trophy, awarded for the best performance by a British driver in 1973.

Hunt drove for the team until they ran out of money in 1975, after accumulating only a handful of wins, but somehow managing to finish fourth in the drivers’ championship. This left him without a ride for the upcoming season. McLaren hesitantly signed Hunt after losing one of its drivers abruptly to another team.

Hunt’s first win was in 1975, while he was still with Hesketh, at the Dutch Grand Prix, in which he beat Niki Lauda’s Ferrari to take the checkered flag, a feat some say showed his driving genius. Lauda went on to win the World Championship that year, thus began the heated rivalry between Lauda and Hunt.

Lauda was a self-confident Austrian and arguably everything Hunt was not. Lauda worked, and bought his way into both Formula 2 and Formula 1, taking out loans along the way to make that happen. He eventually landed at BRM in a sort of rent-a-ride deal in 1973. After proving himself, he was made an offer to forgive his loans if he would sign on with BRM for another two years. He refused and immediately bought his way out of his contract. He was immediately picked up by none other than Enzo Ferrari for the 1974 season. Lauda quickly went to work perfecting the lackluster Ferrari into a championship-winning machine. His work would pay off the following year, in which he would win the World Championship.

By the 1976 season Lauda was a proven winner. His methodical style had earned him the nickname ‘the computer,’ the stage was set for a battle of epic proportions.

Hunt began the ’76 season as a talented but unproven pilot. His driving was often as unpredictable as his life off the track. A known womanizer, Hunt was best known for his carefree attitude and self-destructive behavior, but this season would see the source of his fame change forever. 16 races over the course of nine months would redefine Hunt as a racing legend. 

Lauda was favored to win the championship again in 1976, but as the season would unfold it would become clear that Hunt was a competent and determined adversary.

Lauda and Hunt’s first close encounter would come at the Spanish Grand Prix. Hunt initially won the race but was disqualified because his car did not meet specifications, handing the win to Lauda. However, the ruling was eventually overturned a month later on appeal, giving Hunt back a substantial amount of points toward the championship, and awarding him the win in Spain.

Hunt went on to win the French Grand Prix, further widening the gap between himself and Lauda in the point standings.

The British Grand Prix would see yet another controversy between Hunt and Lauda. After Hunt won the race in England, Ferrari appealed his victory, citing the fact that Hunt drove on an access road while returning to the pits, which was against the rules. This technicality disqualified Hunt and awarded his rival the win in England.

West Germany would become the stage for which the rivalry between the drivers would arguable reach its climax. Lauda would crash heavily while racing in the German Grand Prix, held at the Nurburgring, after petitioning other drivers to boycott the race, due to its perceived lack of safety arrangements on several of the faster corners. Lauda’s Ferrari swerved off the road after reportedly suffering a rear suspension failure. The car then skidded back onto the road in front of traffic and was struck. The car immediately burst into flames, Lauda was unable to escape from the tangled wreckage until several other drivers stopped their cars and pulled him from the flames. He suffered massive burns to his head and neck while inhaling toxic fumes that damaged his lungs. Hunt would continue on to win the German Grand Prix.

Many thought that Lauda would succumb to his wounds after slipping into a coma, but after being treated for his burns and undergoing plastic surgery to reconstruct his eyelids Lauda returned to the paddock, a mere six weeks later.

While Lauda was in the hospital Ferrari boycotted the Austrian Grand Prix, claiming that the governing body was showing preferential treatment to Hunt.

Lauda would return for the Italian Grand Prix, finishing in an astonishing fourth place only several months after his life-threatening accident in Germany.

After Hunt won the next two races, in Canada and the United States, he was a scant three points behind Lauda in the drivers’ championship heading into the Japanese Grand Prix, the last race of the season.
The race was to be the decisive battle between the two entrenched competitors after Hunt and Lauda qualified second and third respectively. But on the day of the race rain began coming down in torrents. The race continued but Lauda, after completing only two laps, felt that the conditions were unsafe to continue and retired from the race. Hunt, after suffering a puncture, eventually worked his way back up through the field to take third place, with first going to none other than Mario Andretti. This awarded Hunt enough championship points to beat out Lauda by a single point.

This would be the first, and only, drivers’ championship for Hunt.  He would continue racing for several years to come with McLaren, with sporadic success. He would never again see the success that he experienced in the ’76 season. He would eventually retire mid-way through the 1979 season. Hunt would go on to be a successful broadcaster, providing commentary, and criticism, for Formula 1 years after his racing career ended. He would, however, suffer a fatal heart attack at age 45.

Lauda would continue on to win the World Championship twice more in 1977 and 1984, after his initial win in 1975.


An upcoming movie, entitled Rush, is set to portray the story of the dramatic 1976 season. Director Ron Howard has gone to great length to ensure the movies authenticity, using cars originally used in the ’76 season for many of its scenes. And if you don’t enjoy Formula 1 you should go see it anyway… It’s got Chris Hemsworth (Thor) in it.

Thursday, August 8, 2013

A Testarossa by Any Other Name

In this day and age our names have lost the meaning, nay, the honor that they once held. It is a rare sight these days to see two men meeting at dawn, ready to take seven steps, turn and fire pistols at one another over the honor of their name sake, albeit it’s a damn shame.

But car companies, especially exotic ones, have never lost sight of the heritage that a name can carry. The name of a car can make or break a car, that is, if you can pronounce it.

For years Lamborghinis have worn the moniker of famous Spanish fighting bulls, names that are not even Italian, but evoke a sense of heritage, honor and tenacity, just from a simple name. A name many simply cannot pronounce.

Although there have been some simple names from the Italian marque, such as Diablo, an appropriate name for both a devilishly handsome car and a famous fighting bull; most have caused heated debates amongst car enthusiasts as to the pronunciation of their meaning-filled names.

When the Lamborghini Murcielago was originally released, nary could a single English speaking person pronounce the name correctly, the situation was only compounded when Lamborghini released the Gallardo. In Italian the two l’s are pronounced just as they look, but the double l in Spanish is read with a y sound. And since it was named after yet another Spanish fighting bull, it was correctly pronounced the ‘Guyardo.’

But recently, it seems as if the privilege of owning a multi-million dollar exotic also comes along with being part of an exclusive group of people who are able to correctly pronounce the cars name. Take the Pagani Huayra for example, even as you were reading that you were doing one of two things, either struggling to pronounce it in your mind, eventually giving up and skipping over it, or reminding yourself there isn’t even an h sound in the name. It is in fact pronounced ‘wai-rah’ which means God of the winds in Quechua, the language of the Inca Empire.

It is an appropriate name for a car whose six-liter, Mercedes sourced, twin-turbo V12 can rocket the car to 60 mph in a scant 3.3 seconds, and continue on to a top speed in excess of 230 mph. It arguably creates more wind and power than any other car on the planet, its 720 bhp is, well god-like.

Then you have the Konigsegg Agera, this may be the best example of this growing trend in supercars. First of all, the Swedish marque’s name is a nightmarish looking one to pronounce to everyone but the initiated. The brand is, I dare say, esoteric within the realm of exotics. That is to say that it is a very familiar name to those of us who religiously worship carbon composites wrapped around a high revving, low displacement power plant; but to outsiders, it looks as if it the name would more likely adorn a piece of Ikea furniture.

The name Agera (a-gee-air-a with a hard g), comes from the Swedish verb meaning ‘to act’ or ‘to take action.’ In this case the Agera’s name is a bit of an understatement. The Agera produces a bone-rattling 940 horsepower which allows the car to bolt from naught to 60 mph in 3.1 seconds, and on to a top speed near 260 mph. Konigsegg is known for its cutting-edge engine technology and it spared no expense on the development of the five-liter V8 that powers the Agera. Gone are the twin-superchargers that sat atop the previous generation’s power plant, replaced by a pair of turbos. It is rumored that Christian Von Konigsegg, the company’s proprietor, will soon launch the world’s first camshaft-less motor. The technology will most assuredly make it into the next iteration of Konigseggs.

No matter the name bestowed upon any number of supercars, I can only imagine that once you purchase one, you are escorted into some sort of back room high-rollers lounge, where they hand you the card with the phonetics of how to pronounce the name of your newest acquisition, along with the stipulation that you don’t tell poor people how to properly say it.


Whether a supercar is named after a wind god, a Swedish verb or a fighting bull, you can rest assured that the appellation bestowed on your favorite supercar is carefully crafted and represents years of prestige and heritage. Unless, of course, you name it La Ferrari. Really? The Ferrari? Real original.