Sports cars--especially those with a 500-horsepower honker under the hood--don't get any more civilized than this. Memo to Herb: Eat your baseball cap.
While the original Viper was a true reptile, at times ill suited for polite company, the new one poised to hit the showrooms this fall has been taught proper social graces. Raw edges have been polished off its exterior, the chassis is tuned for performance and poise, and practically all of the first generation's silly shortcomings have been corrected. This is not to say Helbig and crew have turned a venomous serpent into a garter snake.
Convincing proof that their heads are on straight is found in this car's mission statement. Top priority: Maintain the Viper's status as the ultimate American sports car. Other priorities: Make the car a real convertible, fine-tune the in-your-face exterior, advance all facets of performance, and honor the original Viper's back-to-basics philosophy.
It's doubtful anyone will begrudge the digimeter, not when there's so mu
ch energy on tap to advance the numbers in its display. Viper engineering director John Fernandez calls the 8.3-liter V-10 new from the ground up. "The basic architecture is the same, but practically every part is new," he notes. "Both bore and stroke are larger to achieve the 500 targets we established for power and torque. The new intake manifold consists of two staged throttles feeding a single plenum and runners that are significantly shorter than before to fit in the space available under the hood. We also trimmed a few pounds of weight with the new engine."
Convincing proof that their heads are on straight is found in this car's mission statement. Top priority: Maintain the Viper's status as the ultimate American sports car. Other priorities: Make the car a real convertible, fine-tune the in-your-face exterior, advance all facets of performance, and honor the original Viper's back-to-basics philosophy.
It's doubtful anyone will begrudge the digimeter, not when there's so mu
ch energy on tap to advance the numbers in its display. Viper engineering director John Fernandez calls the 8.3-liter V-10 new from the ground up. "The basic architecture is the same, but practically every part is new," he notes. "Both bore and stroke are larger to achieve the 500 targets we established for power and torque. The new intake manifold consists of two staged throttles feeding a single plenum and runners that are significantly shorter than before to fit in the space available under the hood. We also trimmed a few pounds of weight with the new engine."
When you push the start button to stroke those ten cylinders to life, a whopping-big growling grunt rumbles out from under the hood. Across the expanse of asphalt at Daimler-Chrysler's Arizona proving grounds, the sound is more locomotive than automobile--deeply guttural, octaves lower than the keening shriek emanating from your average Bimmer or Ferrari. At idle, there's enough nervous energy to shake the whole car, enough injector noise to trip distant intrusion alarms, and nearly enough heat boiling out of the floor in this underinsulated development mule to alter climatic conditions.
Since engine calibrations are still in a state of flux and Helbig is worried about the inevitable abuse of his $50 million mule, testing was discouraged, but we knocked off a few quick measurements anyway. In spite of the 5800-rpm fuel cutoff dialed into the powertrain control computer and limited opportunities to optimize the acceleration-launch procedure, the 2003 Viper clocked a 4.4-second sprint to 60 mph and a low-twelve-second quarter-mile run. (While the mule's tach was redlined at 6500 rpm, production intent is a 6000-rpm redline and a 6100-rpm fuel cut.) Data fans in the audience will note that these acceleration figures are roughly equivalent to those of today's Viper, in spite of the 50-horsepower gain, less weight, and improved traction. Be not dismayed, snake aficionados: We'll be back to update the performance profile as soon as there's a chance to do so.
Suspension components follow the same evolutionary path. There are subtle geometric alterations, such as reduced anti-dive and anti-squat characteristics, along with dimensional changes. The wheelbase has been stretched 2.6 inches to facilitate a more comfortable (civil?) cockpit layout. The front track is 1.8 inches narrower, in anticipation of accommodating racing rubber beneath the air-penetrating front fenders of the FIA and/or ALMS competition coupe. At the rear, the track dimension grows by a scant 0.3 inch. However, the muscular rear haunches house Michelin Pilot Sport radials that are one notch larger in section size and rim diameter (345/30ZR-19s versus the outgoing car's 335/30ZR-18s). Asked if there was a loss of adhesion with the move from conventional to run-flat rubber, Helbig responds, "Absolutely not. In fact, we gained performance with the new tires. The Michelin development team helped create an awesome package for this car."
Fernandez, Helbig, and their dedicated band left us only one detail to gripe about: needlessly tall transmission and final-drive ratios inherited from the previous model. If you buzz the engine to the redline in first, you'll hit 59 mph before a shift comes due. Sixth is worth (a purely theoretical) 315 mph. For all intents, fourth through sixth gears are excess baggage.
The gear-ratio gaffe is a venial sin in light of the improvements throughout the new Viper. This is the first dashing Dodge that demands to be taken seriously. Now that the King of the Hill throne is under attack by both the Viper and the hot Fords warming up in the lab, reaction from the Corvette camp bears watching.
Since engine calibrations are still in a state of flux and Helbig is worried about the inevitable abuse of his $50 million mule, testing was discouraged, but we knocked off a few quick measurements anyway. In spite of the 5800-rpm fuel cutoff dialed into the powertrain control computer and limited opportunities to optimize the acceleration-launch procedure, the 2003 Viper clocked a 4.4-second sprint to 60 mph and a low-twelve-second quarter-mile run. (While the mule's tach was redlined at 6500 rpm, production intent is a 6000-rpm redline and a 6100-rpm fuel cut.) Data fans in the audience will note that these acceleration figures are roughly equivalent to those of today's Viper, in spite of the 50-horsepower gain, less weight, and improved traction. Be not dismayed, snake aficionados: We'll be back to update the performance profile as soon as there's a chance to do so.
Suspension components follow the same evolutionary path. There are subtle geometric alterations, such as reduced anti-dive and anti-squat characteristics, along with dimensional changes. The wheelbase has been stretched 2.6 inches to facilitate a more comfortable (civil?) cockpit layout. The front track is 1.8 inches narrower, in anticipation of accommodating racing rubber beneath the air-penetrating front fenders of the FIA and/or ALMS competition coupe. At the rear, the track dimension grows by a scant 0.3 inch. However, the muscular rear haunches house Michelin Pilot Sport radials that are one notch larger in section size and rim diameter (345/30ZR-19s versus the outgoing car's 335/30ZR-18s). Asked if there was a loss of adhesion with the move from conventional to run-flat rubber, Helbig responds, "Absolutely not. In fact, we gained performance with the new tires. The Michelin development team helped create an awesome package for this car."
Fernandez, Helbig, and their dedicated band left us only one detail to gripe about: needlessly tall transmission and final-drive ratios inherited from the previous model. If you buzz the engine to the redline in first, you'll hit 59 mph before a shift comes due. Sixth is worth (a purely theoretical) 315 mph. For all intents, fourth through sixth gears are excess baggage.
The gear-ratio gaffe is a venial sin in light of the improvements throughout the new Viper. This is the first dashing Dodge that demands to be taken seriously. Now that the King of the Hill throne is under attack by both the Viper and the hot Fords warming up in the lab, reaction from the Corvette camp bears watching.
