Car Lust

Twin-Engine Honda CRX

Somehow, in the comments thread of the Chevy Z-24 post--I'm not entirely sure how--the conversation turned to Car & Driver's 1985 dual-engined Honda CRX project car. An obscure topic, but an interesting one, especially since I still have that issue (May 1985, if you're curious).

I remembered the project being pretty fascinating, but on re-reading the C/D story, I felt that it deserved a post of its own.

First, to set the stage, let me give the original CRX a quick description. Despite Honda's sober reputation in the larger community, it is no secret to the enthusiast community that Honda likes to bring a little performance sparkle to its foundation of practicality and reliability.

The original CRX was a perfect example. Well before the CRX eventually morphed into the soft, poseur Del Sol, the CRX was, depending on your viewpoint, either the ultimate economy car or a pocket Lotus.

Regular readers Mochi Mochi and Cookie the Dog's Owner know what I'm talking about, but for the others, I'll try to explain this seeming contradiction.

Lancia Monte Carlo/Scorpion

The 1970s were a heyday of half-baked mid-engined cars, as automakers began toying with the idea of a midships-engined car to project a sporty, agile image. From the woeful Bricklin to the Fiat X1/9 to the Porsche 914, and including even the many mid-engined Corvette concepts featured on car magazine covers seemingly ever month in the '70s, mid-engined cars were hot.

The Lancia Monte Carlo (known as the Scorpion in the U.S.) was one of my favorite mid-engine sports cars of that era. Not incredibly powerful, with only 122 horsepower out of its 2-liter four-cylinder engine, the Lancia nevertheless had its charms. The engine was a rowdy screamer, making up for its lack of ultimate power with an eager charge towards redline, and the car itself was light and tossable.

Dodge Magnum SRT-8

Since I poked so much fun at Chrysler recently with the Inappropriately Named Chrysler Products series, I figure I'm overdue to feature an Appropriately Named Chrysler Product--the Dodge Magnum SRT-8.

Because full throttle easily transforms the Magnum into an explosive projective--one that in certain hands could be used in an anti-social fashion--I think the name is well-deserved.

Such was not the case with the previous Dodge Magnum covered in this space.

Despite Chrysler's recent upheaval, the automaker has been widely hailed for its leadership in returning traditional front-engine, rear-wheel-drive, V-8-powered large cars to the market. The focus of that attention has been the flashy gangster-ready Chrysler 300, the beefy Dodge Charger, or the upcoming muscle-car-revival Dodge Challenger.

Chevrolet Cavalier Z24

I fully expect to get hammered for this choice, but I sincerely can't help it--I loved these when I was a kid, recommended them to friends when I was older, and still think owning one of these would be a lot of fun. One friend who bought one on my recommendation loved it and still remembers it fondly.

It's a Cavalier. Yes, a Cavalier--the lowliest Chevy around for most of the last 20+ years. I'm not talking about just any Cavalier, though--I'm talking about the Z24 hot-rod edition. Feel free to pause for a moment to let the significance of that statement wash over you.

AMG Hammer

I still remember the moment clearly--I was an 11-year-old flipping through the new copy of Road & Track in a branch of the Austin Public Library. That issue featured a top-speed shootout between several hot-rodded exotics. I believe there was a tweaked Ferrari Testarossa, a turbocharged Ferrari GTO, a gorgeous Ruf Porsche, a few hot-rodded Corvettes, and other various exotics. It was a pretty interesting story, filled with beautiful cars running at top speed, with R&T's typical story-telling goodness.

And then it happened--I noticed that one of the competitors appeared to be an ordinary mid-sized Mercedes-Benz 300E sedan. Of course, it was actually an AMG Hammer.

The sole criteria for inclusion in the test was flat-out, throttle-to-the-floor speed. The other competitors were hot, cramped, noisy, impractical, unreliable, and expensive highly modified exotics. And even within this context, a thoroughly comfortable and civilized Mercedes-Benz four-door sedan was a formidable competitor.

Volvo 850 Turbo Wagon

For wagon enthusiasts like me, this decade has been a golden age in which a cornucopia of stylish, incredibly powerful wagons dot the streets--a Bacchanalian feast of wagon goodness, if you will, for every appetite. A Dodge Magnum Hemi satisfies the V-8 set, the Subaru WRX and Forester XT wagons fulfill the dreams of off-road rally wannabes, the Audi S4 wagon is available for fans of fast European cars, and there are many, many other interesting wagons to choose from.

Things were not always so.

Following the 1980s, a time in which the sports wagon concept began to germinate and blossom, the early 1990s were a fallow time. Wagons as a whole were passe--replaced in the American consciousness by the ubiquitous minivan and, soon, the family-oriented SUV.

In this dark time for sports wagons, however, enthusiasts looking for excitement had an unlikely hero-- Volvo. Yes, Volvo, the dour Swedish manufacturer of underpowered and boxy but eminently practical and safe sedans and wagons.

1956-1957 Chevrolet Corvette

When the first in the line of legendary Corvette sports cars appeared in 1953, there was little to suggest future glory. Cleanly if delicately styled, with only an equally delicate six-cylinder engine to motivate it, the 1953 Corvette was more a cruiser than a bruiser; a car in which to relax, not race.

But, thanks to a restyling and the magic of the small-block Chevrolet V-8, the Corvette hit its stride with its second generation in 1956 and 1957. In fact, I think the 1956-1957 Corvettes were the prettiest ones made during the Corvette's first decade of life. They were more artistic and aggressive than their bathtub-sided ancestor, and more pure of line than the similar but chunkier 1958-1962 models, which were laden down with quad headlights, chrome bars, and other filigree.

INCP--Dodge Dynasty/Chrysler Imperial

Inappropriately Named Chrysler Products week lurches to a close ...

On the roster of Inappropriately Named Chrysler Products, the Dodge Dynasty/Chrysler Imperial is perhaps the most decorated member. Managing at once to be both offensive to the eyes and boring--a remarkable combination, since most ugly cars find a way to be endearing--the Dynasty/Imperial is a worst-of-all-worlds nightmare, an automotive Frankenstein that isn't even scary enough to be interesting.

Using Chrysler K-car econobox mechanicals originating in the early 1980s, wrapping them in overwrought 1970s personal luxury cliches inside and out (witness the vinyl roof, useless upright hidden headlights, and tufted faux-leather pillowed seats), and trying to pass off the results as a 1990s luxury sedan, the Dynasty/Imperial is remarkable mostly for the cynicism with which it was made.

INCP--Dodge Rampage

Inappropriately Named Chrysler Products week continues ...

RAMPAGE!

It's the kind of word designed to be written in all-caps, possibly in red, with a bold typeface, certainly underlined, and ideally with more than one exclamation point. Spoken, it deserves to be either screamed or growled--again, ideally, it would be both, with the same kind of manic intensity normally reserved for the bellowing in monster truck commercials.

In short, rampage is an intense word, summoning up images of violence, uncontrollable power run amok, and hopeless desperation among its victims. Envision Godzilla rampaging through Tokyo, or the Incredible Hulk turning green and beginning his angst-ridden rampage through the U.S. military.

INCP--Plymouth Champ

Inappropriately Named Chrysler Products week continues ...

As cars go, the Plymouth Champ is anything but a champion. A small, morbidly sluggish economy car is very rarely a "champ" of anything except, perhaps, fuel economy. The Plymouth Champ can't even claim to be the champion of awfulness among small cars in the late 1970s-- the Chevrolet Chevette and Ford Pinto were the easy leaders in that category. And, to be honest, the rebadged Mitsubishi Colt was a pretty sweet-natured econobox for the time.

If all of this is the case, why am I making this a Car Lust and not a Car Disgust? Well, I have a great deal of sympathy for small, poorly performing hatchbacks, and as I've said, the Champ was really quite nice. Plus, there's no way I could spurn a car so similar to my much-beloved Colt Vista.

I actually kinda like the Champ, and in a way, its inappropriate name in its diminuitive form is cute enough to make me want to have it around. Its combination of bravado in a tiny, hapless package reminds me of a dachsund that enjoys barking at passing pit bulls.

This image comes from Ryu's album from a 2007 vintage Japanese car show. Isn't it funny that these are now vintage cars?

--Chris H.