Car Reviews

From the November 1981 issue of Car and Driver.It must be hell trying to design new Ferraris. Over the years the legend has thickened, becoming a Jell-O inhibiting every stroke of the pen, every flight of the imagination. How can a new model live up to expectations? Too many twelve-cylinders have shrieked down the autostrada pumping too much adrenaline along the way. Too many road testers have fired too many salvos of hyperbole. For years we car critics have re­viewed the world’s finest sporting cars, pronounced them nice, even exciting, but not Ferraris. Ferrari was always atop the pedestal, and that pedestal was al­way being jacked up a bit each year.Now the altitude is such that even new Ferraris can’t measure up. A Ferrari owner of our acquaintance drove the Mondial 8 a few miles and judged it nice, but definitely not a Ferrari.So how are we to decide the truth of this latest product of Maranello—by measuring its stifled snorts and screams against the legend (in which case it will inevitably fall short) or by holding it up to the sporting requirements of the Eighties? Were it of any other brand, we would unhesitatingly do the latter. But with a Ferrari, the legend always lurks. Perhaps, by starting with the basics, some appropriate yardstick may evolve. The Mondial 8 is a transverse V-8 mid-engined coupe with an upholstered section in back that appears to be a rear seat. So you would expect this to be a two-plus-two. And you would be wrong. Ferrari has built models in the past offi­cially designated two-plus-twos, and they always had sufficient leg and head room back there to accommodate the occasional occupant of adult dimen­sions, but only Venus de Milos need ap­ply for the rear compartment of this car. Such a configuration has precedent in the 308GT4 that was discontinued two years ago, so the Mondial 8 must be ac­cepted as consistent with past Ferrari practice. Still, it is a dumb way to build a car—okay in a hatchback where the trunk space can be extended forward by folding the seats, but essentially useless in a mid-engined design. The Mondial 8 is also a rather unat­tractive lump. Pininfarina is known for soft shapes that approach the zaftig, but this one just came out vague: Except in the side view, that is, where air-intake grilles the size of storm sewers ruin even the fundamental blandness. Apart from the Lusso Berlinetta, the 1964 GTO, and the current 308s, Ferraris have always looked sort of ehhhh—and the Mondial 8 continues the tradition. We therefore cannot deny its Ferrari­-hood on this count either.But what about the way it drives? Ob­jectively, Ferraris have always been a pain in the butt in this regard, a quality appreciated only by those who thought the very definition of a man’s car was that nobody else could even get it out of the driveway. Ferraris have been uni­formly balky of shift, stiff of clutch, and hard of steering for as long as anybody can remember. Here the Mondial 8 may not be a true-red Ferrari. The steering is not bad, the brakes no sweat, the clutch so grad­ual in action that nobody would ever kill the engine and so moderate in effort that there should be no complaints. The five-speed shifter is still genuine Fer­rari, however—maybe not quite as hard to stir as some past models, but a purebred for notchiness. No other brand has so many traps in the pattern waiting to catch the lever.But maybe it’s time to stop beating around the bush. People buy Ferraris neither for the mazelike qualities of the shifter nor for the hospitality of the back seat. Instead, they seek the essential prancing-horse rip and snort, and if the Mondial 8 can deliver that, no question, it’s a Ferrari. Here we may be in trouble. The rip is subdued—a velvet purr, more song than shriek, that sweetly changes pitch as the engine climbs through its broad rev range. It’s a splendid sound, but it soothes rather than incites to riot. That’s not very Ferrari.And, sadly, there is no snort whatso­ever. The Mondial 8 will barely get out of its own way, or, more correctly, out of the way of other Ferraris. It’s the lowest one in memory. Weight is large­ly the cause. The Mondial 8 shares the same Bosch K-jetronic-injected three-­liter V-8 with the GTBi and GTSi, but the car weighs in at 3560 pounds, 280 more than the GTBi that we tested in October 1980. This extra mass burdens it down to the point of being dog meat for the turbocharged Porsche 924 and Datsun 280-ZX. A Ferrari that slows is certainly an enigma and maybe even a contradiction in terms. It’s not much fun to drive either. The Mondial 8 doesn’t make you giggle, doesn’t goad you into trying some fool­ish feats of antigravity. Instead, it sug­gests serious grand-touring transporta­tion. It whispers, “C’mon, let’s head for the coast.” And it’s not kidding. You could go anywhere in this car; it wouldn’t fry your nerves in the manner of past Ferraris. No zingy noises, no jouncy ride, no hang-onto-the-wheel­-with-both-hands-lest-it-get-away-from­-you feeling. Just get in and go. How much more un-Ferrari could it be? You may think, since the Mondial’s back seat is worthless, that it ends up merely a slower and uglier GTBi. Actu­ally, the two are much different. The GTBi is a full-time sportster. It’ll never let you forget. Its roof presses down against your forehead, the door against your elbow, the console against your thigh—it’s tight. And noisy. And de­manding. The Mondial, in contrast, is relatively roomy. The front wheel arch takes a bite out of the spot the driver would like to have for his left leg, but that’s the only encroachment. The Mondial is also more relaxing. It doesn’t have the low cowl of the GTBi (or the old GT4), so you can’t see the road streaming directly under the nose. You are forced to take a longer view, and that’s less dynamic, less stimulating. The suspension doesn’t batter you ei­ther. The Michelin TRX tires are nota­bly resilient, and the shocks have been calibrated to merely damp ride motions rather than prevent them. Except for some expansion-joint kawop, the ride is very pleasant. Nor does the Mondial make you keep your guard up. It doesn’t kick back through the steering like the 308s. You may have noticed that the Mondial’s wheels have an uncom­mon amount of “inset” to reduce the scrub radius. This is a new idea at Ferrari, and it takes much of the twitch out of the steering. You add all of this up—the twitchless steering, the elbowroom, the friendly (if not quiet) acoustics, the low-effort con­trols, the civilized ride—and you find a pretty nice sports car, not a Ferrari in the traditional sense, but not bad either. The real question at this point is, Are there enough drivers in the Eighties who would buy a real Ferrari if it were available? It’s easy for all of us sitting around wondering how we’re going to cover the next Visa-card bill to say yes. But those who make their livings in the car business have noticed that by far the majority of those with resources to buy a Ferrari go for a Mercedes 450SL or SLC instead. Fiat, which now pulls the strings at Ferrari, is in the business of making money (or at least of trying to), and it’s very tempting to dilute the Fer­rari rip and snort in favor of some prov­en-in-the-market M-B civilization. We even hear oblique references in that direction from Fiat of North America, which imports Ferrari. More Ferrari Reviews From the ArchiveIt sounds sacrilegious. Be assured that the Mondial is still a whole lot more Ferrari than it is Mercedes, but at the same time there is a conspicuous drift away from the joyfully mechanical per­sona that made up the traditional Fer­rari. It shows up particularly in the use of electronics and electrics—maybe we should call it electricks—in the interior. Somebody decided that remote trunk releases are nifty, so the Mondial has an array of solenoid buttons on the dash to open the front hood, the engine cover, the trunk, and even the gas-filler door. This is harmless fun, but it gets a bit silly when applied to the glove box, the door of which is neatly devoid of any latch—the effect is spoiled by a big black button poking out below the dash that remotely releases the door from a full six inches away. The “computer” early-warning system, which tells of trouble with liquido raffredd or lavacristallo or any of eight other possible men­aces, is similarly misguided, because the signal lights are on the tunnel down by your hip, where you’d never see them until the problem became apparent any­way. These gimmicks are certainly typi­cal of cars of the Eighties. Maybe we should even be reassured that Ferrari is less adept at them than other automak­ers; maybe this is proof that Ferrari has not wholeheartedly embraced electricks. In any case, Ferrari spokesmen antici­pate some redesign of the interior be­fore full-scale production begins for American models. The console will be less conspicuously plastic, the air-condi­tioning controls below the dash will be relocated, and the brow over the instrument cluster will be reangled. This lat­ter will be a mixed blessing. Right now it is both flat and level, the perfect place to clamp your radar detector. But the semigloss vinyl surface also reflects a shiny spot onto the windshield right where you’re supposed to be looking at the road, so some alteration would be appreciated. But enough of this minutia. Return­ing to the original question, is the Mon­dial 8 truly a Ferrari? We say yes, albeit the most democratic one ever built. Anyone with the price of admission can drive it. Maybe that’s not the way Fer­rari cars were built in the past, but this is the Eighties and things are different. For one thing, people aren’t buying anachronisms. SpecificationsSpecifications
1981 Ferrari Mondial 8Vehicle Type: mid-engine, rear-wheel-drive, 4-passenger, 2-door coupe
PRICEAs Tested: $68,000 (est)Options: metallic silver paint, $780
ENGINEDOHC 32-valve V-8, aluminum block and heads, port fuel injectionDisplacement: 179 in3, 2927 cm3Power: 205 hp @ 6600 rpmTorque: 181 lb-ft @ 5000 rpm 
TRANSMISSION5-speed manual
CHASSIS
Suspension, F/R: control arms/control armsBrakes, F/R: 11.4-in vented disc/11.7-in vented discTires: Michelin TRX240/55VR-390
DIMENSIONS
Wheelbase: 104.3 inLength: 180.3 inWidth: 70.5 inHeight: 49.2 inPassenger Volume, F/R: 48/27 ft3Trunk Volume: 3 ft3Curb Weight: 3560 lb
C/D TEST RESULTS
60 mph: 9.3 sec1/4-Mile: 16.9 sec @ 83 mph100 mph: 27.8 secTop Gear, 30–50 mph: 13.1 secTop Gear, 50–70 mph: 11.8 secTop Speed: 138 mphBraking, 70–0 mph: 195 ftRoadholding, 282-ft Skidpad: 0.79 g 
C/D FUEL ECONOMY
Observed: 14 mpg
EPA FUEL ECONOMY
Combined/City/Highway: 13/10/18 mpg 
C/D TESTING EXPLAINED More

From the December 1987 issue of Car and Driver.Charles Darwin died in 1882, four years too early to contribute anything to automobile engineering, but he was hell on wheels when it came to his theory of evolution. Almost single-handedly he threw a monkey wrench into by-the-Good Book, old-time religion. Roughly put, Darwin held that God didn’t really pop packets of Instant Adam ‘n’ Eve into his celestial microwave; instead, the subhuman race took time to crawl before it could walk, and somewhere along the line we Homo sapiens all had apes swinging in our family trees. Now here we are, naturally selected simian descendants—smack in the age of manna, Vanna, and hot-car nirvana—and those of us who like to monkey around with cars have got the good life. For proof that automotive evolution can be nearly as miraculous as God’s more basic monkey business, you have only to go out and strap on the new BMW M5.Webster’s definition of Darwinian theory concludes “that the forms which survive are those that are best adapted to the environment.” As BMW knows, survival in today’s auto environment calls for power, and lots of it—thanks largely to cheap gas, and lots of it. Under the M5’s hood rages a twin-cam, 24-valve, 3.5-liter, six-cylinder ghost of an engine. Resurrected from the fabulous mid-engined M1 coupe of the late seventies, it whirs with 256 horsepower in its new home. Hand-assembled by BMW’s Motorsport branch, the big six hurls the meaty-tired, big-braked, tautly suspended M5 brickbat to almost 150 mph. As a prime example of the high-performance roadware thundering through our times, the M5 proves that, Darwin and your loan officer notwithstanding, now is the age to go ape.So what if the M5 looks as if it were designed when Darwin was still living? Bimmer buyers have naturally selected this shape as one that strikes their fancy. BMW roughed in the profile of its second generation 5-series sedan back in the late seventies. In those days, the factory was determined not to digress from its familiar blocky styling, and the four-door’s contours came out like almost a genetic duplicate of its predecessor’s.In 1982, BMW delivered its new box to America as the 528e. Its low-revving, 2.7-liter engine paid homage to fuel economy and low-end torque, undercutting BMW’s reputation as a builder of “ultimate driving machines.” While Europe continued to enjoy the output of BMW’s horsepower department, American Bimmer loyalists were forced into the slow lane. BMW’s U.S. sales continued to set records, however, as the company coasted on an image built on fifteen years of rave reviews. More on the M5Then, in 1983, a new evolutionary form emerged: Audi’s slick 5000S blasted out of the wind tunnel and threatened to show the rest of the world’s sedans just who was the fittest of all. Not only was the trimly rounded Audi the first modern sedan to manifest serious attention to aerodynamics, but its creators quickly backed up their threat with turbocharging and four-wheel drive.BMW, faced with this triple whammy of technology, did what it always does, soon­er or later, in the face of adversity: it dug deeper into its power bin. Much deeper. Along came the 533i and the 535i, the first “i” cars to suggest that BMW was here to play for keeps. This year came the hard cases from the Motorsport mob, finally bringing us the same good stuff that Eu­rope has been taking for granted. The M6 coupe (C/D, July) lit the way with a top speed of 144 mph. The mini-motor M3 pocket rocket (C/D, November) ripped right up lo 141. And now comes the M5, denying its four-door demeanor by boom­ing into battle at 147 mph. The M5 and the M6 share the same en­gine: 3.5 liters of displacement, Bosch Motronic fuel injection, an aluminum crossflow head, four valves per cylinder, machined intake and exhaust ports, pent­roof combustion chambers, a 9.8:l com­pression ratio, an oil cooler, a low-restric­tion catalyst, dual exhausts—and 256 hp from 211 cubic inches. BMW’s biggest six displaces marginally more than its single­-overhead-cam sister, and thanks in part to a larger bore and a shorter stroke, it revs higher. In any of the first four gears of the Getrag five-speed, the M motor flies past its 6500-rpm power peak to a 6900-rpm redline. Then a quick double snick of the gearbox: pumps the big six back into the heart of its broad power band, and the lusty vroom continues. (BMW offers no automatic to drag down the M5’s output at the rear wheels.) Our fifth wheel trans­lates the 3504-pounder’s acceleration into a 0-to-60 time of 6.3 seconds. The M5 covers the quarter-mile in 14.6 seconds, crossing the line al 95 mph, with another 52 mph still to come. For a boxed-off, four-door folks-wagon, those are hot numbers. The only things that can cool them are a smallish gas tank and a 10-mpg EPA city fuel-economy rating. Happily, as hard as we hammered the M5, we aver­aged a more reasonable 15 mpg. Black, and only black, smothers the M5. From paint to trim, BMW allows no less serious body color to bear false witness to its intent. Other than its deadly coloring, its thickset stance, and its add-on aerody­namic aids, the M5’s only tip-offs are flashy blue-purple-and-red-banded Motorsport badges on the grille and the tail. The spider-web cast-aluminum wheels shine in rich silver. The bodywork wears an aggressively dueled air dam up front and a rubber-ribbed, stylized-wickerbill spoiler at the rear. The only awkward note is the U.S.-spec bumpers poking out defiantly at both ends, only partly compensating for their clumpy appearance with excellent 5-mph impact ratings.The Motorsport mavens had pavement abuse in mind when they engineered the M5’s chassis. Their first act was to specify a great, gummy Pirelli P700 for each wheel well. Mounted on a 7.5-by-16-inch wheel, each 225/50VR-16 tire squeezes into its standard 5-series fender arch like a linebacker’s neck through a pipsqueak’s collar. Outfitted thus, the MS abuses the skidpad up to an outstanding and easily controllable cornering limit of 0.83 g. BMW thoughtfully provides two major handling aids—one complex, one simple. First, as in other contemporary Bimmers, the patented Track Link suspension ar­rangement cancels any latent lift-throttle-­oversteer tendencies from the semi­-trailing-arm rear suspension. Second, conservative tire-pressure recommenda­tions—36 psi in front, 40 in the rear—add another dose of understeer. (We found better results on the road with equal front and rear inflation.) Thanks to the taut reflexes of the M5’s steering and suspension, any pavement is open to abuse. The anti-roll bars remain unchanged from 535i specs, but shorter progressive-rate springs and heftier gas­-pressure front struts and rear shocks en­courage hard driving without fear of nasty repercussions. The damping calibration swiftly soaks up problems in one efficient cycle of motion. It’s a firm cycle, but whether you’re sightseeing or running hard, the M5 gives good control, never threatening to make a monkey of you. The M5 is so quick that waiting to pass someone safely creates no frustration: you feel you can afford good traffic manners because the machine quickly compensates for any delays. Its behavior is so calmly composed, so safe and stable at the elevat­ed speeds it readily attains, that in a strange way it calls for added caution: you have to be constantly mindful that trouble can leap up around you too fast for human reaction times to handle. The M5’s sizable, ABS-outfitted, four­-wheel disc brakes, which are vented in front, always do their best to keep you from harm. Bosch’s electronic anti-lock circuitry never interferes with BMW’s firm braking action, even during hard driving. Yet it stands ever ready should you need to stand on the pedal in an emergency. With the help of the fat Pirellis, the ABS stops the M5 from 70 mph in only 166 feet. This ranks second by only two feet to the modern C/D record, set by the Cor­vette and the Porsche 928S4. Inside, the M5 is laid out better than the Corvette, but perfection is a detail or two away. Unless you get lucky with BMW’s complicated power-seat buttons, you may have to search repeatedly for the right seating position. And there are no memo­ry buttons to help. Luckily, the steeply raked steering column allows you to tele­scope the padded sport wheel: When your reach finally takes the proper measure of the controls, you find pedals perfectly beneath your feet. Effortless heel-and-toe action and the precise give-and-take of ev­ery control ensure that neither car nor driver feels out of phase. The M5’s insides look like the finely instrumented and tailored pilots’ cocoon of a deep-space launch vehicle.Judging by the expanses of creamy leather, several cows were generous enough to give the hides right off their backs. The sport seats look great and grab like baseball mitts, but the seatbacks’ bulging Motorsport badges tend to gouge the backs of tall travelers. In addition, the tricolor tape that decorates the badges has a tendency to curl at the edges. The dash boasts a broad array of levers, buttons, and dials whose effects on the M5’s climate-control and premium sound systems are top-notch. Alas, our test car’s intermittent-wiper setting failed to intermit. And the wiper-control lever was too easily bumped into action when we keyed the ignition. If these few imperfections put you off the M5, you’re reading the wrong periodi­cal. This battling BMW is one of those rare, fine cars that have grit-loads of it. And next year, despite the recent infusion of speed and character, BMW will intro­duce an even more highly evolved 5-series. It will be shaped more like an egg than a crate, and the M5 that will eventual­ly descend from the new platform will no doubt have a friendlier relationship with the wind.Sixty years ago, the shape of Darwin’s enlightening new ideas frightened Bible thumpers into trying to oust his theory from the schools. In 1960, a great film called Inherit the Wind dramatized the infa­mous “Tennessee monkey trial” that re­sulted. The actor Spencer Tracy, restating Clarence Darrow’s case against igno­rance, turned the Bible on its thumpers and quoted, “He that troubleth his own house shall inherit the wind.” Tracy/Dar­row lost the case, but in the end Darwin’s theory won the day, just as it has again with BMW’s evolutionary return to its high-performance origins. The next M5 will be even better, even faster. The wind won’t have a hope in hell of keeping up. But you can already find ample enlightenment in BMW’s book of Motorsport. Buy this M5 and you won’t have to wait to inherit the wind: you can go out and clobber it into submission right now.CounterpointI love the split personality of the BMW M5. From the outside, this car is all busi­ness: no gimmicks, no screaming power emblems, no wings.Just the stoic stance of an average, everyday German sedan.Climb in and tum the key, though, and the M5 is instantly transformed from Dr.Jekyll into Mr. Run-Away-and­-Hyde. Engine, engine, engine-the key word here is “engine.” Punch the M5’s lusty, 24-valve six, and you’ll leave be­hind forever the mundane world of the everyday sedan. Should the engine’s scintillating performance not wake you from your staid-sedan slumber, its un­earthly shriek certainly will. Unless you regularly strap yourself into an Fl car, you’re unlikely to know such mecha­nized musical splendor. Of course, the M5 is outrageously ex­pensive. But then, it wasn’t designed to lead the price brigade. The M5 is a no­-compromises, foot-to-the-floor scream­er built for those who demand the ulti­mate in speed and refinement. The few who can afford it are going to have a ball. —Arthur St. AntoineCan you believe what BMW is up to? The tightly laced Munich firm is riling Mercedes with its twelve-cylinder 750iL, raising havoc with aftermarket tuners by launching one M-machine af­ter another, and kicking dirt on Porsche by announcing that the Z1 roadster is a go program. What’s next, a $4000 BMW to take on the Koreans? Probably not. With the M-class, BMW is well and truly back on the wave­length that established its reputation in the first place. The M5 is the classic ex­ecutive express: patently practical, fast­er than a speeding 560SEL, more macho than an East L.A. lowrider with a hyperactive suspension. I’d rush right out and buy an M5 if not for one niggling problem: you don’t get much change back from $50,000 when you plunk down funds for the fastest Bimmer in all the land. But BMWs have always been expensive, and those of you with looser purse strings shouldn’t fret over spending a little extra for Bavaria’s performance flagship. At a buck a thrill, you’ll write the investment off in no time. —Don ShermanBig news here: the M5 is not a car. Okay, I know it has tires, an engine, and a steering wheel. But if you start thinking like that, you’re gonna toss this maga­zine down and accuse me of getting silly about yet another overpriced Teutonic road bomber. Yes, you can find the same basic pieces-a 24-valve six, an independent suspension, and a five-speed-in less expensive sedans, like the Acura Leg­end and the Sterling 825. Fine transpor­tation devices, those, but the M5 is sup­posed to do more than just move you. Its mission is to move you. That it does. You buy this car for its soul. Everything about it oozes confi­dence. It’s got the heart of a tiger. The big six sounds as if it could rip a V-8 to shreds, and it feels that way, too. The bespoilered bodywork gives off all the right messages. Listen, a guy I know just bought him­self an M-car—an M6 actually, but no matter. He’s bright, witty, a knowledge­able enthusiast, a fine race driver, and successful enough that he doesn’t have to worry about the price of the reward he’s given himself. He loves his new toy. Judging the M5 as a price-is-no-object toy, I love it, too. —Rich CepposSpecificationsSPECIFICATIONS
1988 BMW M5Vehicle Type: front-engine, rear-wheel-drive, 5-passenger, 4-door sedan
PRICEBase/As Tested: $48,470 (base price: $48,270)
ENGINEDOHC 24-valve inline-6, iron block and aluminum head, port fuel injectionDisplacement: 211 in3, 3453 cm3 Power: 256 hp @ 6500 rpmTorque: 243 lb-ft @ 4500 rpm
TRANSMISSION5-speed manual
CHASSISSuspension (F/R): struts/semi-trailing armBrakes (F/R): 11.8-in vented disc/11.2-in discTires: Pirelli P700, 225/50VR-16
DIMENSIONSWheelbase: 103.3 in Length: 189.0 in Width: 66.9 in Height: 55.7 in Passenger volume: 86 ft3 Trunk volume: 14 ft3  Curb weight: 3504 lb
C/D TEST RESULTS60 mph: 6.3 sec100 mph: 17.3 sec110 mph: 23.2 secTop gear, 30–50 mph: 9.3 secTop gear, 50–70 mph: 9.8 sec1/4 mile: 14.6 sec @ 95 mphTop speed: 147 mphBraking, 70–0 mph: 166 ftRoadholding, 300-ft-dia skidpad: 0.83 g
C/D FUEL ECONOMYObserved: 15 mpg
EPA FUEL ECONOMYCombined/city/highway: 18/16/22 mpg
C/D TESTING EXPLAINED More

The good news is the upcoming BMW M5 Touring weighs just 140 pounds more than the M5 sedan despite a substantial load-carrying extension grafted to its hindquarters.The bad news? This small increase pushes BMW’s plug-in-hybrid wagon to 5530 pounds, a solid 1100-plus pounds more than the previous M5 sedan. That’s a lot of weight. Too much weight, I comment to Dirk Häcker, BMW M’s head of development.Häcker’s in the passenger’s seat of the G99 M5 Touring prototype I’m threading over Wales’s open moorland roads and country lanes. Even though the M5’s dashboard is disguised with drapes, and the exterior is covered in camouflage that’s as hypnotic as TV static, everything is pretty much signed off on, save for the Touring’s suspension and steering calibrations. Häcker says both still need a little fairy dust before production begins this November, though a final-spec M5 sedan is on hand as a reference for us and a target for the M development team.The M5 Touring is big news worldwide but especially in the U.S., since it’s M’s first wagon to land officially in the States. In fact, U.S. interest was key to making the case for the G99 Touring. The E34- and E61-generation M5 Touring each sold around 1000 units worldwide, and while the new Touring isn’t likely to see those numbers, interest from the U.S. helped make the business case for the body style’s return, according to Häcker.More on the BMW M5First impressions? The M5 Touring feels like a big, wide car that handles exceptionally well, delivers outrageous performance, and—having grown substantially—restores the gap between the M3 and M5 that the latest G80-model M3 bit into.Hybrid tech is deftly integrated in the gentlest modes, but when you let loose, the performance is phenomenal. Electrification vanquishes the previous M5’s small amount of turbo lag, and the midrange is bursting with far more muscle. Overtaking on two-lanes is like sprinting past people on your own personal moving walkway.While the power-to-weight ratio actually falls compared with the previous M5, there’s no question that the G99 feels stronger than before.But I tell Häcker it’s hard not to think about all that mass. “I think you knew the weight before we started, but if we started in a different order—see the car, drive the car—and then asked you the weight. . .” Häcker suggests in his calm, measured manner.He has a point. The truth is I’d guess maybe 800 pounds less, but that still leaves the Touring feeling SUV heavy. The root cause is the switch to a plug-in-hybrid powertrain, with M deciding four and a half years ago to go with both a big battery and a big V-8.”We were unsure if a V-8 alone would still be possible, but we also felt it was too early for a full electric M5,” explains Häcker. “We discussed whether we should use the six-cylinder inline engine from the M3 and M4 because it is a very powerful engine and it’s lighter than the V-8, but we wanted to keep the V-8 emotion.””In the end, we decided on a plug-in hybrid for extra performance with real electric range,” he continues. “Now we’re very happy because the ramp up to electrification has been maybe slower than expected.”The tech spec is much like the XM SUV. An evolution of the previous M5’s twin-turbocharged 4.4-liter V-8 alone makes 577 horsepower and 553 pound-feet (actually a little less than before), while M xDrive can switch from all-wheel drive to rear drive.To this, the new M5 adds a 194-hp permanently excited synchronous electric motor packaged in the eight-speed automatic transmission and a lithium-ion battery with a usable capacity of 14.8 kilowatt-hours. That all takes output to 717 horsepower and 738 pound-feet, and while EPA ratings aren’t out yet, EV range will be close to the sedan’s projected 25 miles.There’s more differentiation in the chassis department. Like the sedan, the Touring runs coil springs all around (described as “more or less the same” as its sibling’s), adaptive dampers (re-tuned), and fixed anti-roll bars.All 5-series wagons (unlike the not-for-the-U.S. M3 Touring) get a unique rear suspension in a move intended to maximize cargo space. However, because underbody bracing was required to bring the M5 Touring’s body stiffness up to the sedan’s levels, luggage space behind the rear seats drops around 12 percent compared to other 5-series wagons. The M5 Touring is a very different drive than the M3 Touring. Its width is intimidating on some of Wales’s smaller roads, the ride is much plusher, and the steering is more isolated. All the while, however, a fizz of connection percolates up from the road surface, a constant reminder that the new M5 is far more than just a comfort-focused limo.You can, of course, tweak its dynamic personality as there is a bewildering amount of configurability for everything from the suspension to the hybrid powertrain. (Very odd, then, that the multistage traction control is no longer available to ease you into rear-drive mode—you have to just take a deep breath and turn off everything.)Putting it all in Sport saves us hours of experimentation and brings the M5 into sharper focus while leaving it perfectly at home on the road.More BMW M ReviewsIf performance is mind-warpingly abundant, perhaps more surprising is just how dexterously the Touring handles, even with suspension settings that aren’t quite there yet. Like the M2, M3, and M4, there’s a pliant, planted, and, above all, calm feel in a straight line, like you could release the wheel and it’d track true for miles.That sensation continues to define the M5 Touring through corners. The weight sits low, and the all-wheel drive gives a rear-biased feel, with heroic traction and dampers that work like swans’ legs to smooth surface ripples. But this is also a genuinely responsive car considering its size, with fast-paced steering and the expertly integrated rear-wheel steer injecting energy into direction changes.The sheer size and performance would make me think far harder about tossing it around in rear-drive mode than the previous M5, which is definitely a black mark. but as a big, luxurious machine that can carry monster speed through corners, make insane point-to-point progress, and engage its driver, there’s much to admire here.Swapping into the sedan is a window into the chassis engineer’s expertise, because while I grasp for ways to improve the Touring, the sedan marks a clear step forward. Most obviously, it steers with a cleaner, more linear feel, but rebound damping is also more forgiving, there’s extra control as we revisit one particularly gnarly compression, and the front tires deliver palpably more bite. Everything is just a little more consistent, like frosting smoothed over a cake with a spatula.Häcker assures me that this is more representative of where the Touring will finish up in the coming months, albeit with subtle differentiation thanks to damper fine-tuning, fettling with rear bump stops, and a final steering calibration.Once production starts this November, we’ll find out just how successful M has been. More

From the November 1982 issue of Car and Driver.There is a small, fairly obscure group in the recesses of Chevrolet Engineer­ing whose job is to keep the velocity­-minded Chevy-buying public stocked with the parts necessary to turn their engine from furbelow into fireballs. This isn’t the racing department. (Chevy isn’t into racing. Remember that.) The group is called Product Pro­motion Engineering, and the most out­rageous of its offerings are branded with a stern, governmental-sounding decree as being “for off-road use only.” But of course.Here’s one little Product Promotion nocturnal fantasy that made it a few miles farther than the paddock of the Street Machine Nationals—a snarling, snapping, V-6–stuffed Chevette. While Chevy’s production engineers were still in the “what if” stage of Chevette development, the bow-tie brigade was cramming the Citation’s high-output, 2.8-liter, 60-degree V-6 into the divi­sion’s most uninspired dogcart. And great balls of fire, it went like stink! That first experimental V-6 Chevette required extra engineering effort, be­cause the engine had started life in a transversely mounted configuration and had to be converted for north-south operation with new manifolding and a completely different transmission. But when Chevy reoriented the 2.8-liter V-6 for fore-and-aft installation in the Camaro and S-10 truck last year, the transplant operation became as easy as a high-school shop-class lesson. The compact, narrow V-6 plops right into the Chevette’s engine room, complete with the bell housing and Borg-Warner five-speed from the Camaro, as if it were custom-fit. It was this version of the V-6 Chev­ette, built up by Chevy’s regular pro­duction group in H.O. trim, that made its bow before Chevy sales and market­ing brass hats. And it was this Chevette that came home to Ann Arbor with us after a grueling day at the GM Proving Grounds under the relentless flogging of the nation’s motoring press. It lasted barely long enough for our rigorous tech inspection. Straight-line performance was phe­nomenal. The 90 percent increase in horsepower (from the 70 hp of the base 1.6-liter Chevette to the 135 hp of the V-6) shot the little putt-wagon from 0 to 60 mph in only 8.7 seconds and helped it knock off a quarter-mile in 16.2 sec­onds. Our most recent fifth-wheel stats for a production Chevette (13.9 seconds from 0 to 60 mph, 19.1 seconds for the quarter-mile; C/D, November 1979) are laughable in comparison. The 60-degree V-6 is a dandy engine. “It smacks of the Fifties V-8s,” says an enthusiastic Ron Sperry, a component designer in Product Promotion. “It’s a good base engine, like the 283-cubic­-inch V-8—lightweight, compact, with lots of up-option power levels.” (The existence of a prototype Citation with an electronically fuel-injected turbo 2.8-liter V-6 pumping out about 180 hp of­fers hope that the high-rpm potential of this engine will be plumbed in the near future.) Pure speed aside, the balanced firing of the V-6 configuration gives the Chevette a smoothness and a willing­ness to run hard that a four-cylinder en­gine couldn’t hope to impart.Other than adding a set of Goodyear P185/60R-14 Eagle NCTs, a Camaro steering wheel, and lousy Corvette seats, the Chevette’s light-duty support components are left woefully intact. The brakes, the cooling system, the steering (overassisted rack-and-pinion), and the rear axle would have to be upgraded to handle the power load if the car were destined for production. (In fact, one too many hole shots rendered the V-6 Chevette’s rear end a semi-­toothless, inoperable mess.) More Chevrolet Reviews From the ArchiveProduction is not likely to be the destiny of this piece, though. “Not unless the price of gas shoots up overnight and we need a high-mileage nickel rocket quickly,” says Chevy general manager Bob Stempel. His inscrutable smile indi­cates that this is not beyond the realm of possibility. At this point, however, you’ll have to look to Product Promo­tion’s bible, Chevrolet Power, for the pieces for an “off-road” Chevette of your own. SpecificationsSpecifications
Chevrolet V-6 Chevette prototypeVehicle Type: front-engine, front-wheel-drive, 2-passenger, 3-door hatchback 
ENGINESOHC V-6Displacement: 173 in3, 2837 cm3Power: 135 hp @ 5400 rpm 
TRANSMISSION5-speed manual 
DIMENSIONS
Wheelbase: 94.3 inLength: 161.9 in
C/D TEST RESULTS
60 mph: 8.7 sec1/4-Mile: 16.2 sec @ 84 mph100 mph: 28.0 secTop Speed: 103 mph
C/D TESTING EXPLAINED More

At this point, Toyota and Lexus have been playing the hybrid game so long that they’re starting to lap the competition. The pair has hybrid offerings across nearly their entire lineup, and the hybrid drivetrains themselves have gone through multiple iterations. The latest Toyota hybrid setup, which the company calls its fifth-generation system, has now made it into the smallest Lexus, the UX, for 2025.Highs: Quicker acceleration, noticeable uptick in drivetrain refinement, improved EPA figures.This powertrain is also found in the Toyota Prius and Corolla Cross, and its main upgrade is more powerful electric motor-generators. In the UX, the combination produces a total of 196 horsepower from the Atkinson-cycle 2.0-liter inline-four and either two or three electric motors. The number of motors depends on whether you choose front- or all-wheel drive (the latter adds a third to the rear axle). With an extra 15 horsepower onboard compared with last year’s model, Lexus saw fit to adjust the car’s badge from UX250h to UX300h.The powertrain upgrades are welcome, given that the old UX wasn’t exactly a segment leader in terms of either performance or refinement. Acceleration is meaningfully quicker, though not transformed, with our front-wheel-drive UX300h test car reaching 60 mph in 7.7 seconds. That’s a half-second quicker than the 2024 UX250h we tested earlier this year. The gasoline engine still drones under hard acceleration but sounds smoother and less obtrusive, and the handoff between gas and electric is more imperceptible than before.Despite the extra power, fuel-economy estimates actually rise slightly, with the EPA now rating the front-drive model at 43 mpg combined and the all-wheel-drive model at 42 mpg combined. Those are increases of 1 mpg and 3 mpg over last year’s UX250h. We haven’t yet had the chance to run the UX300h on our real-world highway fuel-economy loop to see how it measures up to the old model’s 35-mpg result.The UX300h model we tested was the F Sport Handling trim level, which is distinct from the F Sport Appearance trim level in that it includes actual handling-oriented upgrades—that is, it has adaptive dampers. It also incorporates fake engine noises that we found to be silly, as the engine sounds and simulated “shifts” don’t correspond to what’s actually going on under the hood. The F Sport package doesn’t include any changes to the wheel and tire package, though, so the performance uptick at the track isn’t noticeable over the standard model. In our tests, the F Sport Handling actually underperformed the non–F Sport 2024 model, recording 0.79 g on the skidpad and stopping from 70 mph in 185 feet, compared with 0.81 g and 174 feet.Lows: Small rear seat and cargo area, F sport upgrades don’t achieve much, the 10Best-winning Prius costs less.More on the UXWe don’t expect a vehicle like the UX to be an at-the-limit kind of machine, of course, and it offers a pleasant driving experience for everyday commutes and errand running. Ride motions are well controlled, and the steering is nicely weighted. Though it’s not overtly sporty, its tidy size makes it maneuverable and agile, like a good urban runabout should be.Updates to the UX’s interior over the years have mostly included new screens and infotainment software, and the displays are crisp and nicely rendered. Materials quality is good, and the overall vibe feels appropriately premium compared with other Lexus SUVs. The packaging could be improved, though, as the rear cargo area is small and has a high floor, and the UX has a less spacious rear seat than competitors such as the BMW X1.Verdict: The UX still isn’t quite competitive with other subcompact luxury SUVs, but it works well as an upscale cousin to the Prius.Starting under $40,000, the UX300h undercuts every other subcompact luxury crossover on price, but it’s also smaller than its rivals, serving as more of a luxury compact hatchback than a real SUV option. At the $48,795 as-tested price for our well-equipped example, it’s tough to argue for the UX against more spacious and more powerful competition, especially given that the F Sport package doesn’t meaningfully alter how it drives. But in its lower trim levels, the UX strikes us as a nice premium alternative to the related Prius, for those who seek the more prestigious badge or eye-catching styling of the Lexus.SpecificationsSpecifications
2025 Lexus UX300h F Sport Handling FWDVehicle Type: front-engine, front-motor, front-wheel-drive, 5-passenger, 4-door hatchback
PRICE
Base/As Tested: $45,955/$48,795Options: head-up display, $900; Copper Crest paint, $595; illuminated doorsills, $425; Obsidian roof paint, $350; mudguards, $165; carpeted cargo mat, $140; Cold Area package (windshield de-icer), $100; rear bumper appliqué, $90; wireless phone charger, $75
POWERTRAIN
DOHC 16-valve 2.0-liter Atkinson-cycle inline-4, 150 hp, 139 lb-ft + 2 AC motors, 111 hp, 152 lb-ft (combined output: 196 hp; 0.5-kWh [C/D est] lithium-ion battery pack)Transmission: continuously variable automatic
CHASSIS
Suspension, F/R: struts/multilinkBrakes, F/R: 12.0-in vented disc/11.1-in discTires: Bridgestone Turanza EL450225/50RF-18 95V M+S RFT
DIMENSIONS
Wheelbase: 103.9 inLength: 177.0 inWidth: 72.4 inHeight: 59.8 inPassenger Volume, F/R: 47/37 ft3Cargo Volume: 17 ft3Curb Weight: 3457 lb
C/D TEST RESULTS
60 mph: 7.7 sec1/4-Mile: 15.8 sec @ 90 mph100 mph: 20.6 secResults above omit 1-ft rollout of 0.3 sec.Rolling Start, 5–60 mph: 7.9 secTop Gear, 30–50 mph: 4.3 secTop Gear, 50–70 mph: 5.3 secTop Speed (gov ltd): 111 mphBraking, 70–0 mph: 185 ftRoadholding, 300-ft Skidpad: 0.79 g
C/D FUEL ECONOMY
Observed: 40 mpg
EPA FUEL ECONOMY
Combined/City/Highway: 43/45/41 mpg
C/D TESTING EXPLAINEDDespite being raised on a steady diet of base-model Hondas and Toyotas—or perhaps because of it—Joey Capparella nonetheless cultivated an obsession for the automotive industry throughout his childhood in Nashville, Tennessee. He found a way to write about cars for the school newspaper during his college years at Rice University, which eventually led him to move to Ann Arbor, Michigan, for his first professional auto-writing gig at Automobile Magazine. He has been part of the Car and Driver team since 2016 and now lives in New York City.   More

UPDATE 8/13/24: This review has been updated with instrumented test results for the Civic Hybrid Sport Touring sedan.Honda last stuck a hybrid badge on a U.S.-bound Civic for 2015, with the powertrain option skipping the 10th generation entirely. The Civic-adjacent third-gen Insight carried the compact-hybrid torch briefly until it went away after 2022. So, it’s been some time.These days, though, Honda makes it hard to choose anything but the hybrid. With the CR-V and the Accord, the fancy lineup-topping trims are available only as gas-electrics. This isn’t forced enviro-friendliness, though—the hybrid models are objectively and subjectively good. Now, for 2025, the Civic heads down the same path. After a spin in a prototype and some time back home (including at our test track) with a Civic Hybrid Sport Touring sedan, we can say this one smells like a winner too.A Pair of Motors and an Ace up Its SleeveSince the last gas-electric Civic, Honda has continued to improve its two-motor hybrid system. The version residing in the 2025 Civic combines an Atkinson-cycle 2.0-liter four-cylinder and a pair of electric motors—one attached directly to the engine to act as a generator, and the other playing the part of a traction motor, with a clutch between the two. It’s this second set of windings that does most of the motivation, either in EV mode or with the gas engine feeding it juice via the generator and a small battery pack. Only at highway cruising speeds does the engine send torque directly to the front axle. The main difference between this setup and those in the CR-V and the Accord is that the Civic’s electric motors are situated in tandem for packaging reasons. They also have a slightly lower output.HIGHS: Quicker than the Si to 60 mph, returns 47 mpg on the highway, little hybrid weirdness.Total system stats are a healthy 200 horsepower and 232 pound-feet of torque. The former matches the Civic Si’s figure, and the latter beats that car’s turbocharged 1.5-liter four by 40 pound-feet. According to our scales, the Civic Hybrid carries 288 pounds of extra mass compared with the Si and just over 300 more than a nonhybrid Civic Sport. There’s no real-estate penalty to make room for the hardware; because the extra electronics are located under the back seat, both the hybrid sedan and the hybrid hatchback have the same cargo capacity as their nonhybrid counterparts.The result is a quick-ish Civic that accelerates seamlessly because there are no seams. Given the Hybrid’s relative output advantage and weight penalty, its 6.2-second sprint to 60 mph comfortably dusts the turbo 1.5-liter model it effectively replaces (7.2 seconds) and predictably bests the heavier Accord Hybrid (6.5). But it even out-hustled the quickest Si we’ve tested (6.6 seconds).With no conventional transmission onboard, the Honda’s direct-drive gearbox attempts to trick you into thinking it has the world’s slickest automatic by modulating engine rpm to rise and then fall as if taking a pause during an upshift. Because the four-cylinder is acting only as a generator when you’re not cruising at highway pace, these climbs and dips mean only that the engine briefly steps away from its most efficient speed. It’s effective, and we didn’t experience any clunky transitions or the droning that is all too common with continuously variable automatic transmissions. However, with a brake-torque launch, the fake shifts disappear, and the engine stays pinned up near the redline to make maximum power to enable the quickest acceleration times. In its default mode, it’s roughly a second slower to 60 mph. That’s a Hybrid?The Civic Hybrid sounds like a regular gas car and, most of the time, delivers its power like an EV. Everything else feels conventional. You notice the extra weight at times—over humps on the highway and during hard suspension impacts—but it’s not obnoxious, and the structure feels as solid as any other Civic’s. The brake-pedal feedback is meager at low speeds, but you can never tell you’re modulating a blended system. On Continental ProContact RX tires, the stopping distance from 70 mph was a rather long 180 feet. The steering doesn’t have the fake notchiness of the CR-V Hybrid’s, and there’s good on-center feel—it’s the same hardware that nonhybrid Civics use, so no surprises there. And the Civic Hybrid circled our skidpad at a respectable 0.84 g.LOWS: Carries extra mass, lacking brake-pedal feedback, no manual.The Civic Hybrid’s Sport mode confers some artifice, but not so much that it feels out of place. Simulated gearchanges happen at higher engine rpm, and there’s a bit of extra internal-combustion soundtrack fed in to accentuate the nonshifting shifts. While Normal mode cancels whatever level of liftoff regeneration you’d requested via the steering-wheel paddles as you roll back into the accelerator, Sport will hold your setting and allow something nearing one-pedal driving—call it three-quarter-pedal driving. Sport mode also ramps up the steering effort, but you can avoid this on the Sport Touring trim by mixing and matching settings in Individual mode.EPA efficiency figures are promising, at 50 mpg city and 47 highway, and the Hybrid matched that latter EPA number in our 75-mph highway fuel-economy test. We find it interesting that the city estimate is one below the Accord Hybrid’s. However, our long-term 2023 Accord Touring Hybrid hasn’t been living up to its ratings, so perhaps Honda went more conservative with the Civic Hybrid’s certification to better reflect the real world.A More Civil CivicHonda gave the greater Civic lineup a number of updates as part of a refresh for 2025. Additional structural reinforcements in the B- and C-pillars are aimed at improving the model’s standing in IIHS side-impact testing (and, presumably, in real-life performance). The suspension was retuned to account for this added stiffness. New front-end styling fixes its overbite. And a manual transmission is now the province solely of the Si and Type R.More on the Civic HybridUpdates to some driver-assistance features are welcome, as the logbook of our long-term 2023 Accord contains more than a few related gripes. Lane-keeping assist now does its job without simulating a table-tennis match. The adaptive cruise control handles lane changes in a much smoother and more humanlike way, and it seemed less prone to freaking out about cars minding their business in adjacent lanes.A version of the hybrid’s Atkinson-cycle engine replaces the 2.0-liter in nonhybrid LX and Sport trims. Power and torque are down slightly, but the torque band is wider to compensate, and the payoff is an extra mile or two per gallon in EPA city and highway cycles.VERDICT: Going hybrid comes with few downsides.The Civic Hybrid sedan will appear first and be followed later this summer by the hatchback version. Both will be offered in Sport and Sport Touring trims. For $29,845, $2500 more than a gas-only Sport, the Sport Hybrid sedan includes a sunroof, dual-zone automatic climate control, and heated front seats, on top of the hybrid powertrain itself. The Sport Touring Hybrid sedan will go for $32,845. It’s almost like Honda has made the decision for you.SpecificationsSpecifications
2025 Honda Civic Sport Touring HybridVehicle Type: front-engine, front-motor, front-wheel-drive, 5-passenger, 4-door sedan
PRICE
Base/As Tested: $32,845/$33,300Options: Blue Lagoon Pearl paint, $455
POWERTRAIN
DOHC 16-valve 2.0-liter Atkinson-cycle inline-4, 141 hp, 134 lb-ft + AC motor, 181 hp, 232 lb-ft (combined output: 200 hp, 232 lb-ft; 1.1-kWh lithium-ion battery pack)Transmission: direct-drive
CHASSIS
Suspension, F/R: struts/multilinkBrakes, F/R: 11.1-in vented disc/10.2-in discTires: Continental ProContact RX235/40R-18 91W M+S
DIMENSIONS
Wheelbase: 107.7 inLength: 184.8 inWidth: 70.9 inHeight: 55.7 inPassenger Volume, F/R: 52/44 ft3Trunk Volume: 15 ft3Curb Weight: 3225 lb
C/D TEST RESULTS
60 mph: 6.2 sec1/4-Mile: 14.9 sec @ 92 mph100 mph: 18.0 secResults above omit 1-ft rollout of 0.3 sec.Rolling Start, 5–60 mph: 7.2 secTop Gear, 30–50 mph: 3.4 secTop Gear, 50–70 mph: 4.7 secTop Speed (gov ltd): 114 mphBraking, 70–0 mph: 180 ftRoadholding, 300-ft Skidpad: 0.84 g
C/D FUEL ECONOMY
Observed: 38 mpg75-mph Highway Driving: 47 mpg75-mph Highway Range: 490 mi
EPA FUEL ECONOMY
Combined/City/Highway: 49/50/47 mpg
C/D TESTING EXPLAINEDEver since David was a wee Car and Driver intern, he has kept a spreadsheet listing all the vehicles he’s driven and tested. David really likes spreadsheets. He can parallel-park a school bus and once drove a Lincoln Town Car 63 mph in reverse. After taking a break from journalism to work on autonomous vehicles, he’s back writing for this and other automotive publications. When David’s not searching for the perfect used car, you can find him sampling the latest in gimmicky, limited-edition foodstuffs. More

From the August 1981 issue of Car and Driver.I knew that there was a new Scirocco coming to replace the coupe that has been delighting us since 1974. I knew that I would only have to wait a couple of months to try it when it was launched before the European press in the spring of this year. Nevertheless I bought one of the current models, and am not a whit sorry.If you think that means the new car is a failure, think again. When I tried it, the new Scirocco confirmed that it was better than the existing one in many re­spects, some of them quite important. It turned out to be inferior to the old one in only one respect (it is a little heavier), and then to a degree that is only percep­tible in the measurement of urban-cycle fuel consumption. It looks different from the old Scirocco, very different, but whether that makes it better or worse is a matter of opinion. As for the importance to be attached to the fact that the new car is 6.5 inches longer than before, that is an environmental matter: it depends where you want to garage or park it. No, the new Scirocco is an undoubted success—not merely because it is better in enough ways than the old one, but more because in all the things that really matter, the things that made the old Scirocco such a lovely lit­tle roadfaring tool, such a wonderful cosmetic aid, such a solace to salesmen and a comfort for accountants, the new car is just like the old one. Its character is completely the same, which means that VW will keep all its old friends while making some new ones. Engineers who fear that their work is swamped by stylists’ may take heart from this retention of the Scirocco’s identity and integrity. The bodywork of the latest model is wholly new; what preserves that admirable character must therefore be the fact that the machinery beneath is virtually unchanged. The 106-bhp version (the fuel-injected 1.6-liter with a close-ratio five-speed gear­box) now has ventilated front brake discs, but that rev-happy little wonder will continue to be withheld from Amer­ica. As for the others (including the 1.7-liter wofflebox due on parade in the U.S.A. next spring), about the only me­chanical innovation of any consequence is the availability of the wide-ratio 4+E gearbox, in which top speed is reached in fourth gear and fifth is only for low­-consumption cruising. High gearing is not the only aid to fuel economy in the new car. Aerody­namic drag has been reduced, too (it would have been commercial folly had VW not been able to claim some improvement, however trivial), bringing the Cd down from 0.42 to 0.38 while keeping the frontal area the same 18.3 square feet as before. Considering that the roof has been raised, and the air dam lowered, the tight tucking-in of the body contours has evidently been a rigorous exercise in width reduction, and that is probably why the styling of the new car has been done by VW itself in­stead of farming the job out to some­body like Giugiaro, who designed the first one, or even to Karmann, who built it and will build the new one. The real priority of the body re­shapers was to make more room, espe­cially for the heads of the hapless folk sitting in the little rear seats. There could be no significant increase in legroom, because the wheelbase had to re­main unchanged. The increase in head­room is small enough for it to be measured best in millimeters—ten above the front seats, eighteen above the rear—but in a car as closely tailored as the Scirocco those increases are significant. More indicative of the pressure that customers must have been applying is the increase in luggage capacity, up by 20 percent. The rear seatback can still be folded forward to turn the car into a two-seat grocery van or holiday tourer, but it is a pity that it was not split to allow either half to be folded in­dependently to make a nice three-seat compromise. Even more of a pity is that the miserable little 10.5-gallon fuel tank was not enlarged: once again, the reten­tion of the original wheelbase combined with safety regulations forbade any such change. At least the headlights have been improved, though they are still poor: if not as bad as the horrors im­posed on America by a heavily protected domestic industry, German headlights are still the worst to be found in Europe. Maybe German street-lighting is the best. Trying the new Scirocco gave me no opportunity to remind myself: I was taken to France to drive it, over those roads in the Maritime Alps where the cooperative nature of the local authori­ties is even more surprising than the many corners, and where everybody from Rolls-Royce to Renault finds an excuse to launch new cars (and occa­sionally even motorcycles) for press as­sessment. It is not only the roads that are tricky; the weather can be treacher­ous up in those altitudes, and on this occasion the arrival of Setright was co­incident with the arrival of the first rain for several weeks, resulting in some of the slimiest road surfaces I have ever encountered this side of a precipice. I shall skate over (if you will pardon the expression) the time when I had one of the cars sliding so comprehensively that the only way to salvation lay in negotiat­ing the oncoming roundabout in the wrong direction; that was simple driver error, and I do not think that anybody saw me do it. Elsewhere, wheelspin was something to be induced at will rather than encountered at hazard, especially with the power of that marvelous injection engine under the hood: with peak power at 6100 rpm and peak torque at 5000, and the sort of gearboxes that make it possible to stay within that re­gime throughout most of the car’s speed envelope, one can play racer more effectively in this car than in al­most any other within sight of VW prices. With the lesser carbureted en­gines, the 82-hp 1.6-liter and the 67-hp 1.5-liter, the feeling was merely of liveliness and adequacy respectively, but the breadth of their lower-tuned re­sponses was enough to match the wide ratios of the 4+E box. This five-speed­er is optional, unlike the close-ratio box in the 106-hp car; the standard equip­ment is a four-speed box in which the ratios are identical to the first four of the 4+E. The long-striding economy gear is not available at all with the smallest and feeblest of the Scirocco en­gines, the 58-hp 1.3-liter; but that little creep is not even coming to Britain, let alone America. The variations in body trimmings are less wide than before, because VW has expunged the basic N (for “Normal”) version and now starts the range with the tolerably well-equipped L. Like all the others, this has a laminated wind­shield, halogen headlights, plastic-­sheathed bumpers, and spoilers front and rear. The swankier GL gets height­-adjustable front seats, a four-spoke steering wheel, a tachometer and a digi­tal clock, and some fancy trim and exterior brightwork. The GT has slightly better headlights, an oil-temperature gauge, grippier upholstery, and a re­volting sticker inside the rear window, emblazoning the name “Scirocco” all across the bottom. Fortunately this vul­garity can be peeled away; maybe it was only put there to draw attention to the fact that the window now curves down over the rear to improve the view when parking. A slot in the rear spoiler guides air down over the glass, doing so well enough for clarity to be maintained in wet weather. This only works at open­-road speeds, so a rear wiper is still needed for clearance of accretions, but that necessity is now relegated to the options list. Are the salesmen trying to per­suade us that the airflow management of the Scirocco is now really good? Once out of the showroom and onto the road, they should not have to try very hard. The improvement is not merely of 10 percent in drag; aerodynamic lift over the tail has been reduced by 60 percent. It has taken a lot of line-soften­ing to achieve that, and the car no long­er looks as distinctive as it did; from a distance it could be mistaken for a product of the styling studio of GM, Nissan, or Toyota. That could be seen as the penalty of having the work done in house rather than giving it to an inde­pendent stylist, but with its own very good wind tunnel and a small army of aerodynamicists available it would have been a bit silly of VW to do anything else. By itself, Volkswagen is perfectly capable of producing something a lot snazzier than this mild-lined production Scirocco—something that was demon­strated by putting on show at the launch an experimental body with such flaring and dammings, such swellings and spoilings, as made the most sporting of the production cars look like a suburban shopping cart. Shod with 195/50VR-15 tires on seven-inch rims, it could have been a showpiece; but the VW engineer in charge of it let me have a drive, dur­ing which no doubt was left in my mind that it was truly a go-piece. More Volkswagen Reviews From the ArchiveVW took no credit for the amplifica­tion of power that made this special such a goer. An independent tuning firm, Oettinger, had done the engine work, including a twin-cam, sixteen­-valve cylinder head and some quite elaborate intake and exhaust manifold­ing. The upshot of all this was 130 bhp at 7200 rpm, and there is no question of VW ever attempting to make the kit itself; VW just bought it from Oettinger to see what it was like (as you could, if you were rich) and to compare it with its own experimental engines. Volkswagen did it justice with its work on the car: uprated spring and dampers (by Koni, instead of the usual Bilsteins) gave it a very positive feel, and the tires did the same—though on the slippery, wet roads they could not always deliver the grip they promised, making me wonder whether these NCT Goodyears were re­ally as good as the super-tacky P7s al­ready homologated for the Scirocco, however good they may be as rivals for the P6. It was great fun, though, the en­gine screaming up its scale with the ut­most alacrity and all the good-tempered smoothness of the regular GTI. Even with the production suspension, involv­ing anti-sway bars front and rear, the GTI Scirocco is a quite exceptionally agile and controllable machine; on fif­teen-inch P7s on the homologated 5.5-inch rims it is even better; and if this experimental car with its wider wheels and tauter suspension is any indication of what VW might have in store for the future, the new Scirocco is already more than welcome. For American Scirocco addicts with a hankering for more refinement, the fu­ture is already on the roads and in the showrooms of Europe. The most marked difference in the new car from the old one, looks apart, is its quietness. There used to be a resonance that made the old car boomy at anything over 70 mph; that has been ironed out of the new car. What with wind noise being virtually eliminated, conventional rain gutters having been removed (and re­placed by shallow grooves in the roof) in the cause of drag reduction, the Sci­rocco is very much kinder to the ears than ever it was. I felt that the brakes were better too, but I may have been led astray in this judgment by my familiarity with the brake of right-hand-drive ver­sions, where the linkage between pedal and booster is rather nasty and sloppy. One increase that is definite is in glass area, greater by 20 percent. I am not convinced that one sees any more, or any better, for there is now an awkward blind spot right behind the B-post. There is also an increase in weight, but it is so slight as to be appreciable only in a fractionally poorer urban-cycle mpg figure. At higher speeds the car drinks less fuel because it disturbs less air; for the same reason it goes slightly faster flat-out, reaching as much as 118 mph in the 106-hp GTI or GLI. What the performance of the American version will be cannot yet be forecast accurately; but assuming retention of the familiar 79-hp 1.7-liter engine, there should be a couple of miles per hour more at the top end than at present, and no other significant difference. An automatic transmission will be available (as it is in Europe on the 67- and 82-hp cars), and there will be sealed-beam head­lights to ensure that you do not travel too fast at night. The new Scirocco is scheduled for U.S. introduction early in 1982, they told me; do not feel too badly treated, for even in nearer England we shall not see it until October. The Scirocco ac­counts for 4 percent of the total VW sales, and 1.3 percent of the German market must be kept happy before the combined forces of Wolfsburg and Osnabrück (home of Karmann) can at­tend to the likes of us. That is why I bought a 1980 model.SpecificationsSpecifications
1982 Volkswagen SciroccoVehicle Type: front-engine, front-wheel-drive, 4-passenger, 3-door hatchback
PRICE
Base (Germany): $7450–$10,150
ENGINE
Inline-4, iron block and aluminum headDisplacement: 78 in3, 1270 cm3; power: 58 hp @ 5600 rpmDisplacement: 89 in3, 1460 cm3; power: 67 hp @ 5600 rpmDisplacement: 97 in3, 1590 cm3; power: 82 hp @ 5600 rpm; 106 hp @ 6100 rpm 
TRANSMISSION4- or 5-speed manual, 3-speed automatic
DIMENSIONS
Wheelbase: 94.5 inLength: 159.4 inCurb Weight (C/D est): 1850–1950 lb  More

From the September 1981 issue of Car and Driver.Few new cars have tiptoed into the marketplace with less fanfare than the 1981 Dodge Challenger. You didn’t see the new Challenger buzzing across your TV screen, or hear about it on the ra­dio, or find it in very many magazine ads. That’s because all the Detroit-style hoopla that Lee A. Iacocca and his New Chrysler Corporation could stir up last fall was directed at launching the all-­important K-cars.What Chrysler didn’t bother trumpet­ing was that the Challenger was thor­oughly refurbished for 1981. Every piece of sheetmetal aft of the front fend­ers—the floorpan, the doors, the roof, the rear quarter-panels, the trunk lid, and the tail section—is fresh, 0.6 inch has been spliced into the wheelbase, and three inches have been snipped out of the overall length.Such major surgery is rare for cars as new as the Challenger and its twin, the Plymouth Sapporo—both of which were rolled fresh off the Mitsubishi cargo ship in 1978. At this point in the pro­gram the designers generally dole out new grilles or redone taillights, not new bodies. So we felt the new Challenger deserved our attention. As you no doubt know, the previous Challenger was Chrysler’s first assault on the Toyota Celica–Datsun 200-SX–Mazda 626 sporty-sedan market. While these cars have never been the favorites of hard-core drivers, they are nonethe­less what a lot of folks think sports se­dans ought to be: good-looking, rela­tively efficient automobiles that let you get involved in the process of driving. They’re pleasant rather than aggressive, but far more fun than your everyday Im­pala. The old Challenger fit that descrip­tion to a tee. Its particular bent was a dose of Cordoba-style luxury and a standard-equipment list that rivaled an Accord’s. But in spite of all this—and strong reviews from the press—Dodge has been selling only one Challenger for every ten Celicas that go out the doors of Toyota dealers. If Mitsubishi was looking to perform an image remake on the Challenger to help its prospects, it certainly went about it in an odd fashion. It takes a keen eye to tell a new Challenger from an old one. The designers were appar­ently so intent on maintaining the new car’s family resemblance that they es­sentially re-created the old car. The sweep of the sheetmetal was barely al­tered in the process, and even such styl­ing details as the rear-quarter-window gills and the creased-at-the-ends rear glass have been retained. So close is the resemblance, in fact, that it takes a side-by-side comparison to see the new car’s differences: a new roof, more glass, a more horizontal rear deck, and a crisper, trimmer look to the body sides.Functionally, the revisions are all in the right direction. The flatter rear deck increases luggage capacity by over one cubic foot. And the extra 0.6 inch of wheelbase, coupled with relocated rear coil springs and floorpan changes, opens up three more inches of rear leg­room. The rear seat is now adult-rated for short trips, if not day-long cross­-country jaunts. If the designers didn’t make any radi­cal changes, they at least didn’t hurt the Challenger’s come-drive-me good looks. Inside, too, this year’s Challenger is easily more appealing than before. The Cordoba look—with its vast acres of plaid cloth—has given way to simple, European-inspired furnishings. The seats in our red-and-silver test car were stitched in a handsome dove-gray fab­ric. Matching fabric inserts were sewn into the doors. A new dash compresses all of the instruments—which include a speedometer, a tach, and gauges for oil pressure, coolant temperature, amps, and fuel level—into a neat cluster di­rectly in front of the driver. Chrome is used sparingly. The stick shift and the parking-brake lever are now sculptured from soft vinyl. Slipping behind the wheel puts you in the same no-nonsense frame of mind as a BMW 320i does, but the Challenger is far from Teutonically austere. The stan­dard-equipment list includes power steering, power brakes, full instrumen­tation, a digital clock, a tilt steering col­umn, reclining buckets with a lumbar support for the driver, an AM/FM-stereo system with four speakers, dual electric outside mirrors, remote releases for the trunk lid and the fuel-filler door, and more. The options list includes four-wheel discs, alloy wheels, and a six­-speaker stereo—all of which our car had. In typical Asian fashion, it’s all carefully finished and fitted together as tightly as a jigsaw puzzle. After this sort of aesthetic buildup, we couldn’t help but have high hopes for the revitalized Challenger. But the hard truth is that it just can’t deliver the high level of functional satisfaction its form promises. This isn’t to say the Challenger is a bad car. Actually, it’s quite pleasant to drive, rock solid, and the equal of the competition. But it still lacks the spark that lights an enthusi­ast’s fire. For one thing, the Challenger isn’t very efficient. Hiding under the taut skin is the overweight body structure of the old Challenger—a car that was on the porky side when it was introduced four model years ago. The new car, at 2780 pounds, is heavier than just about anything its size, and it’s within a couple hundred pounds of a Mustang V-8—a car that is significantly larger inside and out. Pulling so much weight around takes its toll on fuel economy. The Challeng­er’s standard 105-hp, 2.6-liter Silent Shaft four-cylinder—the same engine that powered the last-generation Chal­lenger—works hard enough on the EPA city cycle to deliver only 20 mpg. And the 22 mpg we recorded in real-world driving is only average these days. The Challenger does redeem itself some when you lean hard on the throt­tle. Though the engine starts to grunt above 5000 rpm, it still has enough gumption to haul the Challenger to 60 mph in a brisk 11.7 seconds, and keeps on pulling up to a flat-out 103 mph.While it performs decently, the Silent Shaft four is more impressive in two other ways. First, it is quite torquey, and offers the midrange punch you’d expect of a larger V-6. Second, it’s one of the smoothest and quietest four-cylinder engines—a fact especially noticeable at highway speeds. (As its name may re­mind you, the Silent Shaft is blessed with a pair of balance shafts that rotate at twice crankshaft speed, thereby quell­ing much of the shake, rattle, and roll produced by big fours.) More Dodge Reviews From the ArchiveHighway cruising, in fact, is the Chal­lenger’s forte. With the road flowing under you at 80 mph, wind and engine noise are commendably hushed and the suspension is happy in its work. Things are not so harmonious when the road turns twisty. The Challenger’s underpinnings—MacPherson struts in front and a rigid axle located by four trailing links and suspended by coil springs in the rear—are tuned more for easy commuting than for hard driving. The compliant suspension gets a little rubbery in the knees when you try to hurry through corners, and the power steering is flat numb and all too easily upset by broken macadam—the single biggest deterrent to happy motoring in the whole car. This is about how we recall the older Challenger. So for all the changes Mit­subishi has made, there’s been precious little progress—and that leaves us on the fence about the new Challenger. It’s still an easy car to like, but a tough one to love. Either way, we think it deserves better than to languish in the backwater of the sporty-car market. SpecificationsSpecifications
1981 Dodge ChallengerVehicle Type: front-engine, rear-wheel-drive, 5-passenger, 2-door sedan
PRICE
Base/As Tested: $7672/$8867Options: air conditioning, $620; road-wheel package, $351; AM/FM-stereo radio/cassette, $185; trunk decor group, $39
ENGINESOHC inline-4, iron block and aluminum headDisplacement: 156 in3, 2555 cm3Power: 105 hp @ 5000 rpmTorque: 139 lb-ft @ 2500 rpm 
TRANSMISSION5-speed manual
CHASSIS
Suspension, F/R: struts/rigid axle, trailing linksBrakes, F/R: 9.9-in disc/9.6-in discTires: B.F. Goodrich195/70R-14
DIMENSIONS
Wheelbase: 99.6 inLength: 180.0 inWidth: 65.9 inHeight: 52.8 inPassenger Volume, F/R: 45/35 ft3Trunk Volume: 9 ft3Curb Weight: 2780 lb
C/D TEST RESULTS
60 mph: 11.7 sec1/4-Mile: 18.2 sec @ 75 mph100 mph: 52.0 secTop Gear, 30–50 mph: 11.8 secTop Gear, 50–70 mph: 13.5 secTop Speed: 103 mphBraking, 70–0 mph: 208 ftRoadholding, 282-ft Skidpad: 0.69 g 
C/D FUEL ECONOMY
Observed: 22 mpg
EPA FUEL ECONOMY
Combined/City/Highway: 23/20/30 mpg 
C/D TESTING EXPLAINEDRich Ceppos has evaluated automobiles and automotive technology during a career that has encompassed 10 years at General Motors, two stints at Car and Driver totaling 20 years, and thousands of miles logged in racing cars. He was in music school when he realized what he really wanted to do in life and, somehow, it’s worked out. In between his two C/D postings he served as executive editor of Automobile Magazine; was an executive vice president at Campbell Marketing & Communications; worked in GM’s product-development area; and became publisher of Autoweek. He has raced continuously since college, held SCCA and IMSA pro racing licenses, and has competed in the 24 Hours of Daytona. He currently ministers to a 1999 Miata, and he appreciates that none of his younger colleagues have yet uttered “Okay, Boomer” when he tells one of his stories about the crazy old days at C/D. More