Chevy Corvette vs. Dodge Dart, Pontiac Firebird, Chevy Silverado, Ford Mustang
From the April 1976 issue of Car and Driver.
The air box poking through the Trans Am's hood is laid against the far right edge of its harness. What's left of 330 foot-pounds of torque has twisted the 7.5-liter prime mover wearing that scoop into an agonizing battle against the elements. The enemy is the wind, skimming over the pagan symbol of flight and fire on the Trans Am's hood to pound the windshield with a 200-horsepower fist.
On the calmer side of the glass, needles stabilize to signal a stalemate. Oil pressure and water temperature are crowding the high side. The tach lies 400 rpm past the redline while the speedometer has thrust itself deep into the numberless never-never zone. The mighty Pontiac, born in the wind tunnel, raised on the dragstrip and educated on the road course, is flat out, straining against its limit.
We are at Troy Dry Lake. The terrain is tabletop level, like Bonneville, but instead of craggy salt, this course offers a five-mile ribbon of perfect asphalt. Mrs. Amelia Orcutt lives at the end, and one of America's finest topspeed test tracks is the driveway to her private wildlife sanctuary. Orcutt Road is the only place we know where the usual jumble of irritations — traffic, weather, police and terrain — dissolves to nothing more than the challenge of an automobile pushing air. At Troy Lake, you can blast perfectly straight for four miles with throttles cocked wide. And that's plenty of space to let a motor clear its throat, wind up tight and show its stuff.
Five machines assembled that day to take on Mrs. Orcutt's driveway. As the sun set, one was left: the fastest American-made production car.
It's true what they say about the performance era being dead in Detroit. Manufacturers now face off on the EPA's dyno instead of the race track. They sell cars by gas mileage, not competition victories. But before we're all carried off the deep end aboard 30-mph four-cylinder Corvettes, the hardware is still available for one last hard ride. A cast from the previous act is waiting in the wings — understudies for yesterday's heroes dressed in hood scoops, power bulges and fat tires. Today's nouveau chic of the performance world came to Mrs. Orcutt's as well, as did the wave of the immediate future. We brought them all together for one final showdown before speed is not only illegal but illegal to buy.
The defending champion was America's perennial sports car, the Corvette — tuned blindingly fast years ago by Zora Arkus-Duntov, today coasting toward a mellow old age. It hasn't had a big-block engine for two years now, and it faced a stout challenge from the burly Trans Am. The Firebird is the very last place to buy a 7.5-liter motor in a manageable-size car, and after a little prodding from the enthusiast press, Pontiac has also preserved a husky manual transmission backstopped by an axle ratio that keeps the revs up.
From the Mopar camp, we invited a Dart Sport 360, identical to its twin-sister Duster 360 and the fastest car Chrysler Corporation builds today. It was a strong dark horse with all but one other entry in our contest covered for horsepower. This advantage came from the fact that the Dart was the only car on the scene with an exhaust unchoked by catalysts.
Ford has once again raised an inquisitive eyebrow at the never-say-die performance buyer with the Cobra II, represented in it's finest 302-cubic inch V-8, four-speed manual-transmission trim. This tricked-up Mustang II is Detroit's state-of-the-art performance car, but the irreverent are already defecting in a bizarre turnabout toward... trucks? So to cover all bets, we had America's fastest non-car as well — a Chevrolet C-10 pickup with more power than you can buy in any other four-wheeler.
All cars passed through the normal rigors of road testing for acceleration, noise level and all other standards of comfort and performance as a prerequisite of the ultimate dash that would shake out a top-speed winner. With over 1000 horsepower in the Troy Dry Lake arena, each candidate's best shot at the course was pinpointed down to 0.1 mph by a Zetachron photo-electric timer, canceling any chance for human prejudice or error. In the end, the fastest car emerged with a victory beyond reproach.
It was the Corvette. Still hot from a trip halfway across the continent just for this test, the sharp-edged orange coupe knifed through the trap at 124.5 miles per hour.
Chevy's Stingray may seem an obvious overdog with its slippery fuselage shape to pierce the wind, but it is down on displacement and horsepower compared to the competition. And the only way to make it into America's fastest road-burner is to order what you might at first consider a tame boulevardier. Of course you'll want horsepower, and the factory's strongest Corvette offering is the optional L82 engine, at a cost of $481. This fat chunk of money buys only 30 hp over the base L48, but besides the hotter cam timing, bigger valves and higher compression to make the power, you get the durability insurance of forged pistons, a four-bolt main-bearing block and a forged crankshaft.
The four-speed manual transmission probably would be your next check on the order blank. It's definitely the tip for acceleration, but due to a strange combination of circumstances, the Turbo-Hydramatic has a good four-mph edge in top speed. The old rules of performance unfortunately don't always apply when your exhaust pipes come plugged with catalysts. Today's horsepower curves peak early in the midrange and fall off precipitously long before the redline. So to fight the wind, you need a tall gear to keep engine revs down where the power lies. Once you've specified the L82 engine, the best you can do is a 3.36 rear axle that comes only with the automatic transmission. Acceleration obviously suffers — L82 four-speeds we've tested are quicker by 0.2 seconds in the quarter-mile — but the automatic Corvette in this test managed to hold its own on both the dragstrip and Orcutt Road to win both the fastest and quickest titles.
Thanks to price hikes and a typical load of options, the bottom line for America's most efficient ticket collector bounded slightly over the $10,000 mark for the first time this year. Chevrolet has raised the dues for a good spot in the Corvette waiting line a fat 12 percent — a move you should look upon as profit-taking in aid of keeping the corporate decision-makers interested in perpetuating the car's existence. This had bought a stay of execution for our only sports car; it will live on in much the same trim for at least three more years. Beyond that is anybody's guess. Right now, it's overweight, bulky on the outside, cramped on the inside and underpowered. But there's a lot of consolation in the fact that 120 mph off the imported rack will cost you a cool five grand more.
The unlikely challenger hot on the Corvette's heels was the Dart Sport, stopping the clock at 121.8 mph. This was the oldest design of the five we tested, rolling onto Mrs. Orcutt's driveway with a lot of parts first produced in 1966. But if it's point-to-point velocity you're after, you can't argue with results. On the top-speed scale, the Dart is a strong number two.
The key to its success is horsepower: 200 net under the Dart's hood is the most you can buy in any Detroit-made car. Chrysler's zappy small-block 360 was tuned to strength in the late 1960s, offering a vest-pocket alternative to the monster-motor intermediates of the day. Now it has outlived those mastodons to become the heart of America's fastest sedan. The horsepower comes from a Carter Thermoquad on top, dual pipes out the back and no crippling catalysts anywhere.
The Dart also comes with other attributes in its favor. The one we tested blended into freeway traffic like a lane divider — no stripes, spoilers or scoops to demand attention. Your average patrolman is more likely to view this contender as the check-rated darling of Consumer Reports rather than the bolide of a car freak on a blitz ride to Vegas, giving the Dart the blandest summons-collecting coloration in this test.
The Dart is in its element when you've got the hammer down and the wheel centered. Since the strong motor comes only with Torqueflite, you just put the pedal to the metal and watch the needle drop off the deep end of the hundred-mph speedometer. But once you've had your fill of blowing off new Trans Ams, the Dart reverts to its spinsterly alter ego. The ride treats your backside with the upright harshness of a church pew, while road feel is filtered from the steering; the wheel is little more than a place to hang on as you aim the car down the road. The Dart's fat bias-belted tires stick better than any radial on which we've ridden lately, but the suspension really doesn't like fast cornering. You can pitch the car sideways to relieve the normal grinding understeer, but the recovery from a slide is hair-raising. If you fail to anticipate the suspension's straightening-out routine, it will throw you into a series of violent swings that pretty well monopolize a two-lane road. The brakes are equally exciting, with plenty of rear bias to get you sideways when you'd rather just stop short. If you want to go fast, best you keep the Dart straight and give it room.
If you've come to this test looking for handling, you'll find it in the Pontiac Trans Am. This car is today's best automotive bargain, packed with more hard-charging prowess per kilodollar than any machine on the market, imported or domestic. Six grand will barely buy a 71-hp Scirocco, but that same investment in a top-of-the-line Firebird will arm you with one of the biggest accumulations of torque known to the free world, matched to the best-handling car ever made in Detroit. With a top speed of 117.6 mph, the 455 Trans Am is but the third fastest car made in America, but its speed/acceleration/handling combination does demand respect.
Those who will most appreciate it come from the fresh stock of drivers brought up on Beetles and Toyotas. With no basic training in a pre-1972 muscle car, the first ride in today's Trans Am can stir overdose levels of euphoria. Touch the wheel and you turn — right now. Go all the way with the throttle and you may never go back to flat fours. Right here in flaccid old 1976, the Trans Am is the best-preserved survivor of the smoking-tire era. The power is half what it was during the car's heyday, weight has piled on with massive bumpers and the front air dam is trimmed to ineffectiveness, yet the Trans Am still has twice the red corpuscles of its nearest imitator.
After three years of deterioration, one area of undisputed Trans Am improvement has surfaced with the radial-tire age. The Firebird's GM-specification steel-belted rubber is not much for ultimate cornering, but the Firebird's old rocky ride has softened into a pleasant firmness. Corresponding suspension changes have been minor: a raised ride height to pass bumper tests, and recalibrated shock valving and bushing stiffnesses for the radial's unique ride characteristics. If you must have all the handling you can get, your favorite sticky tire will return today's king of the road course to all its former glory. If that's still not enough, try H.O. Racing Specialties, in Lawndale, California, for their comprehensive Firebird upgrade program that covers everything from camshafts to bumper replicas that look legit but chop off hundreds of pounds.
California's favorite-son nomination for top speed is the Chevrolet C-10 stepside. If you live in Kentucky, you may not have heard yet, but kinky pickups are one of the more recent West Coast fascinations. It's one more aberration of the van phenomenon that has blanketed the country. You buy yourself the short wheelbase with the stubby stepside box that won't even haul a good-size motorcycle, just to let everyone know that your machine has absolutely no blue-collar obligations. And from that base, you can build an armory of performance weapons banned from the car world.
The F44 heavy-duty chassis is the place to start — not for carrying loads but to jack the gross vehicle weight rating above 6000 pounds, putting you beyond the grasp of the EPA's light-duty emissions standards. This doesn't make the truck weigh much more, it just adds springs, axles and wheels to accommodate heavier loads. And F44 is the magic code that unlocks the hood for a big motor, which Chevrolet will happily build for you. What you want is their infamous Mark engine, a full 454 cubic inches and 250 horses worth of brawn and first cousin to the motive force behind yesterday's 140-mph Corvettes. Since the EPA doesn't classify heavy trucks with cars, this engine squeaks through emissions testing with no catalysts. And unlike any post-1974 GM-made car, the big motor in a pickup breathes easy through dual exhaust pipes.
With a little additional option-choosing, you can fine-tune the C-10 to approach sedan levels of comfort and luxury. Optional radial tires are the same rubber on which you roll in a Cadillac. The ride is a little choppy on the freeway but overall better than the Dart's. The stereo FM is just fine. Carefree Turbo-Hydramatic is mandatory with the big motor. And the Silverado interior covers bare metal walls with vinyl, acoustic fabric and nylon carpeting. A sports flair can be added through an instrumentation package, bucket seats and the world's largest console; this huge plastic bin will swallow three six-packs and plenty of ice to make sure that what happens after you get there is just as much fun as the ride.
To arrive in a hurry, you need the tallest gear available — a 3.07-to-one ratio. This programs the power train so that when the acceleration is all gone, engine revs are only slightly past the power peak. Nonetheless, aerodynamic drag from the C-10's block nose and panoramic windshield gobbles up horsepower at a fantastic rate when you get rolling, robbing truck fans of a top-speed champion in the big Chevy.
But at 110 mph, it's no slouch. This hauler will knock every imported car twice its price or below into the weeds on acceleration, and the C-10 deserves a gold medal in the freestyle tire-smoking event. The Corvette and Dart leave the line with hardly a chirp and the Trans Am will light its tires for a few feet, but the truck is king for burning rubber. Stomp on it from a light and the guy behind you will think his car is on fire. And there's a healthy rip from the tires on a redline upshift to second, just to remind you what the good old car days were like when 250 hp came as base equipment.
Every bout has a loser, and it was the Mustang II Cobra II that held up the low end of our test's performance scale. You can't deny its initial appeal — a glorious sobriquet from the past, Caroll Shelby paint job, scoops, spoilers, white-letter tires, V-8 motor and four on the floor. Sounds neat, but what you get is a mini-Mark IV all dressed up in performance gear with nothing to make it go. Your mother-in-law deserves more than 105.7 mph. To strangle a 302-cu. in. motor down to a sickly 134 hp is an amazing — but embarrassing — feat of modern technology. You need light weight for small-engine performance, but what you get in the Mustang II is station-wagon parts underneath and pound upon pound of sound deadener. The suspension developers worked diligently to filter any possible road irritation (or feel) out of the Mustang II's steering and chassis, and the optional competition suspension can't put it back.
The grim picture starts to focus when you learn that performance holds such a low priority at Ford that the four-speed manual-transmission package trailed the automatic 302 by over a year. And the main cause of delay was the tooling money needed to produce a suitable clutch. The wait paid off in one way, at least: The Borg-Warner four-speed shifts precisely and has well-spaced ratios. But it doesn't salvage the Cobra II from anemia.
The very existence of a Ford even hinting at performance is due primarily to the efforts of Edsel II, the car freak's ranking ally within the Dearborn establishment. He took responsibility for this little cosmetic experiment, Motortown Developments Company tooled up to produce the add-ons with help from Ford styling, and to the amazement of many at Ford, performance-hungry customers loved it. What was meant to be a limited-edition run now has the status of a regular option package — a success that just might crack the internal blockade against which fun cars have stopped at Ford.
So maybe next time around there'll be a Cobra II just as appealing but backed up by hardware to make it work. Right now, the hood scoop is phony and the front air dam has a spillway over the top just where it shouldn't. Only the rear spoiler is worth saving; Ford engineers claim it is worth a six-percent drag reduction.
You shouldn't think of going fast in the same daydream as the Cobra II, but the other four entries in this sweepstakes do redeem themselves. The Corvette is the undisputed top of the heap: the fastest production machine American hands can build today. The Dart Sport is the secret speedster, hiding its celerity beneath innocuous sedan sheetmetal. The Trans Am is the decathalon champ — not the fastest but extremely capable at going, turning and stopping. The chic way to go fast is the Chevy C-10 stepside, especially if you like the muscle-bound look and feel. Four ways to buy speed off the shelf. We urge you to pick your preference, and get 'em before they're not.
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