There's a saying "Never Meet Your Heros". Basically, if you do, you'll be disappointed because their not supermen, merely human. The old man tells the tale of meeting his boyhood hero Mickey Mantle, and of Mickey being a bitter, arrogant prick who was hungover and made half the kids in line cry (although my father still adores him to this day). I never put much stock in this theory. But that's probably because I don't believe in hero worship.
I never had any heros as a kid except for Alan Ruth (builder of the Bigfoot series of Monster Trucks) and KC "Hollywood" Spurlock (wild driver of the Fruit of the Loom Funny Car). I met both of them, but was so small I don't remember how they acted. I do still have a Spurlock autograph somewhere though. Even today my heros are Enzo Ferrari (dead), John Z. Delorean (ditto), James Madison (really dead), Uma Thurman (no hope in hell of ever meeting) and Mario Andretti (ditto), so I doubt I'll ever develop any worshiping tendencies.
I did however, have one main idol as a child: the Dodge Viper. Even though I was just a 4 year old boy when the concept was released, I was in love. My bedroom walls have posters of a Superbird, Bigfoot, the Green Bomber, my old man's '65 Chevelle drag car, and a Viper. The car had it all. Great stance, Carroll Shelby input, and a V10. A V10! In the early 90s when everything was a 4-banger, this had 10 cylinders! The Green Bomber, which was the fastest car I knew (and which I named as a 3-year old "da Geen Bumer!) Only had a V8, this V10! And it was huge! And American!
As I grew older and I my knowledge grew, my boyhood adoration, turned into an all out love affair. I loved the fact that it was only a stick, I loved the total lack of drivers aids, and as a fan of Detroit big blocks, I loved the massive displacement most of all. The Viper to me was the be all end all, the only real American supercar (S7 aside).
It was obvious, if you wanted to look like a car guy, buy a Corvette, if you were a car guy, you bought a Viper.
So a buddy of mine bought one last year, and after many schedule conflicts, he loaned it to me last week, to take to my car show. I finally would be able to drive my (number 2) dream car. Now I've driven a Ferrari, a Maserati, and two Lambos before, but they were only putt-putting around in first gear type drives, just to say I did it. The only one I ever got on was the Maz, and only briefly. So this would be my first real road test of a 200mph supercar. (This Viper tops out at 202 BTW). The owner encouraged me to attempt to reach the mystical 200mph barrier (one of the only vechicular accomplishments left for me to achieve) and gave me advice on how the car would react, and even told me where to go to do it. I was content to throw it around some curvey roads by the lab instead.
However, I'm terrified, as "Never meet your heros" applies to cars too. Don't believe me? James May road tested a Contauch on Top Gear, and was distraught over how horrible his dream car actually was. If the Viper is a POS, I don't know what I'd do.
So I lower myself into the Viper, (no mean feat given my 6-ft 240lb frame) and I cannot get over how low you sit in the car. Everything superlow slung I've ever driven has you sitting up high within the cockpit, to maximize vision. In the Viper, your on the floor, the hood is at chin height, the arching fenders as tall as my forehead (creating two massive blindspots). The steering wheel and shifter are actually slighty above you, so you have to reach up for them. It is like being in an open wheel car. The mirrors add to this, they're nonadjustable, and tucked into the bodywork. They are aimed low, and allow you to see who's behind (barely).
I pressed the starter button, and was disappointed. The V10 isn't ear-splitting, it isn't even loud. It has good tone through the sidepipes, but its sedate, reserved. Now I'm worried. The world should have ended when I pressed that button, why didn't it? I engage the clutch and find it akin to pushing against a brick wall. It grabs right off the floor and I'm off.
As I drive to the car wash a few things jump out at me. How heavy the damn clutch is (must be horrendous in traffic) and how quick the pedal snaps back, like a screendoor banging in the wind. Next are the brakes, I almost put myself through the windshield three or four times until I adjust my driving style to cope with the incredible brakes. The feel of the road through the massive tyres is quite good, although my visiblity is non-existant. I'm also terrified of tearing off the front splitter. I look at the speedo and realize I'm doing 63mph in a 40mph zone. It doesn't even feel it.
On the way home, in my freshly clean Viper, I drop the hammer and now the world ends. From a 35mph roll in second gear, the car blows the back tyres off like a damn funny car, the engine finally screaming like a 8.3litre should. I find myself going sideways down River Road, nose pointing into oncoming traffic. I grab some opposite lock and hold the car in a smoking drift for a few seconds then grab third. This swings the car 90 degrees and after a steering correction I find myself holding the car in a smoking drift looking toward the hard shoulder. A quick look at the speedo shows a reading of 86mph. With still no traction whatsoever, still completely sideways. OK, that's enough of this........
Two days later I take the car out again, for the show, and practice my launches. With a good one, I can get the Viper up to 60mph by the end of the alley by my appartment (a distance of only 30 yards or so). On the way home, with my old co-driver's encouragement, I wind it out to 105mph with the top down. We cannot believe how calm it is at speed. If you do it right, only the noise, and the blur of what once was the scenery going by give away your true speed. I decide then and there I will own a Viper. The ability to dial up run after run like that, effortlessly, as impressed the shit out of me.
I don't care that you need to leg press 450 to work the clutch. I don't care it gets 8 mpg. I don't care it scrapes the splitter on basically everything. I don't care how the sidepipes pump brutally hot air into the cockpit. I don't care it has the interior out of a Neon, or that if you mess up the launch, it will pretty much kill you. I'm more in love with the Viper than ever. Maybe it is ok to meet your heros afterall....
No comments:
Post a Comment