Test Track!

In the past six years, we’ve visited Disney World three times and now I can finally scratch Test Track off my bucket list. Although it originally opened in 1999 (replacing World of Motion) it was fully another decade before I took my daughter. In 2009, she was four years old and beaming with anticipation as we walked up to the gate. However, we were denied entry when they measured her height and found she was just shy of the mandatory 40 inches. In fact, it was so close that her hair bow was actually above the required stature but the two attendants steadfastly refused admittance. I quipped that I thought it was supposed to be the “Happiest Place on Earth” but they obviously didn’t care. They suggested I ride it alone, but as a sign of solidarity I refused. It didn’t seem fair for me to ride it without her.

 

Three years later we returned and I was looking forward to experiencing Test Track since my daughter was now more than tall enough. Those arrogant employees could shove their trading pins where the sun doesn’t shine! But as fate would have it, Test Track was being retooled and was closed for nearly the entire calendar year. To make matters worse, we missed the re-opening on December 6, 2012 by less than a week.

So when we planned to return in 2015, I made sure there would be nothing stopping us from finally riding it. To that end, my wife even reserved Fast Passes for it.

 As it happened, that was probably the smartest decision we’ve ever made on vacation. That’s because despite continuing price increases, attendance was at record levels. On Thanksgiving day, Magic Kingdom was at capacity and people were being turned away. This meant that transportation (bus, boat and monorail) between the parks took the better part of an hour and wait times for most attractions was two hours. And judging by what I saw, I believe Disney is the only place a grown man can wear mouse ears without ridicule.

Just last year, Disney retrofitted all its properties with Radio Frequency (RF)-controlled wrist bands at a cost of $1 billion. These “Magic Bands” contain all the information needed to access everything from your meals, hotel rooms and park tickets. As someone who makes his living in Information Technology, I can only imagine what a logistical nightmare it must have been. However, it worked flawlessly for us the entire seven days we were there. And despite the draconian overtones and privacy fears, they seemed to be universally embraced.

I mention the Magic Bands because they’re an integral part of the Test Track experience. You start by swiping your wrist in front of the admission turn stall and a green glowing Disney symbol lets you proceed. If it turns blue, as it did with some patrons, there’s a problem.

With our Fast Passes, we strolled on in past the seemingly endless line of poor, unfortunate souls who were having to wait in the “Standby” area. Their envious glares were quite satisfying and it seemed that the combined effects of exhaustion, eternal waiting, and claustrophobic environments was the perfect mix for more than a few of the meltdowns we witnessed throughout the holiday week. I mentioned to my wife that I certainly couldn’t work at Disney and remain cheerful during events like the “Magic Hours” where the parks don’t close until 2 a.m. Among the reasons speculated for the employees’ ability to maintain such a jolly disposition was either Prozac, Mind-Control or both.

 The first place you enter in Test Track is a lobby of sorts where there’s a Chevrolet concept car on display. Called the “TRU” this small Chevrolet is purportedly a platform for future vehicles although it looks remarkably like the 2016 Cruze. According to the placard on the display stand, the TRU “combines sedan-sized functionality in performance coupe form”. It also states that creating prototypes like this lets designers “explore exciting new styling ideas and groundbreaking technologies.” Semantics aside, the TRU is clearly aimed at achieving low emissions instead of high horsepower. This point is underscored again further into the Test Track experience when I’m penalized for favoring power at the expense of efficiency.

  

The next area has a couple engines on display although there are no descriptions to compliment them. One is clearly a V-6 and the other is a turbocharged four-cylinder. Regrettably, the line moves too quickly for me to accurately scrutinize them for identifiable characteristics. Here too, Chevrolet has chosen to showcase smaller, more environmentally-friendly engines as opposed to the larger eight-cylinder variants that are so popular in their line of trucks and sports cars.

Shortly thereafter, we’re shuffled into a large room with rows of computer terminals. Here, we’re persuaded to believe that we’re Chevrolet engineers and encouraged to design our own car. A basic template is presented and we’re given 4 minutes to go from a blank sheet to a fully functional production car. I think a similar process might have explain what went wrong with the Chevrolet Spark.

Using a touch-screen, I drag my finger across the car creating the most rakish, aerodynamic shape I can muster. After that, I’m presented with a basic blueprint of the car from which I can choose the following attributes: Capability, Efficiency, Power and Responsiveness.  As expected, Efficiency is inversely proportional to Power, with it dropping the more I dial-up Power. Regardless, I choose the biggest motor available, one described as a “muscular gas engine” with “plasma micro-turbines” to “provide maximum power”.  Unfortunately, here’s where reality falls off a cliff. Up until now, and throughout the rest of the Test Track presentation, there’s a certain believability throughout the whole design process. But “plasma micro-turbines”? That sound like some Sci-Fi prose dreamed up by Ray Bradbury. Chevrolet could have simply substituted “electric micro-turbines” and it would have been both futuristic as well as believable.

 

 On a scale of 0-100, the most power I’m able to program is 82 with efficiency have fallen to a middling 26 (or what your average cement truck gets). It’s at this point I nervously look over my shoulder to make sure neither Ralph Nader or Al Gore is standing behind me. It should also be noted that Test Track seems to borrow heavily from the Fast & Furious fundamentals which preach that the more scoops, vents, and wings the vehicle is festooned with, the faster it becomes. As such, my final product looks like a car fused with an Airbus A320.

 

 

It’s finally time to board the Test Track vehicle which is a small, six-passenger slot-car. It’s painted royal blue with a gold Chevrolet emblem on the front and is supposed to be a simulation of the ride you designed. All jokes aside, the Test Track platforms are actually pretty state-of-the-art. Each “SimCar” possess not one, but three onboard computers which continually monitor and adjust hundreds of different settings. According to Disney, that’s more processing power than even the Space Shuttle. They’re also completely made from composite materials, like kevlar and carbon fiber, to keep the tinsel strength up but the weight down. Official horsepower is quoted at 250 which was set when the ride debuted in 1999. At that time, the Pontiac Grand Prix GTP had 240 hp and General Motors though that was an adequate amount to be exciting, yet still safe. With that horsepower, and the SimCar’s lightweight, it can accelerate from 0-65 mph in just 8 seconds even carrying six full-size adults. That makes it the fastest Disney Attraction, beating out both Rock ‘N’ Roller Coaster and Expedition Everest.

 

 

However, the Imagineers also placed a priority on stopping ability so all SimCars are equipped with six individual brakes. Even more amazing, each car is designed to last 1,000,000 miles and routinely clocks 50,000 miles annually. That lets the fleet of 25 cars service 1,200 guests per hour.

 As the ride begins, a series of tests simulating the four qualities chosen at the beginning (Capability, Efficiency, Responsiveness and Power) is undertaken. The first is a 15-degree hill, which admittedly doesn’t sound like much, but is actually a three-story incline. This is followed by a gratuitous plug for OnStar as the vehicle supposedly connects with it and relays information. We’re then whisked through a virtual rain/snow storm and our car skids to a halt. After it begins going again, an LED lightning bolt strikes near our car. These artificial weather hazards are funny because real instances shut the ride down. Given the electric nature of Test Track, the ride is stopped if lightning is identified within a five mile-radius or it is raining. And since nearly half of the ride is outdoors and Florida is prone to hurricanes, it was designed to survive winds of up to 200 mph.

The next segment has us breezing past a futuristic city and the results are displayed from the “Capability” test. Truthfully, the input from the riders is not used and is academic at best, but it continues as part of the flimsy narrative. In the following “Efficiency” portion, the cars are laser-scanned for maximum fuel conservation and not surprisingly, mine flunks right out, coming in dead last. To my chagrin, the lavender van my daughter designed (which I criticized as a four-wheeled Purple People Eater) places first.

The third test, “Responsiveness” sees our car zipping through several hairpin turns as we hold on for dear life. As we swing into a dark tunnel, a laser-projected 18-wheeler semi appears directly in front of us, causing a whiplash stop. The scene is so vivid and realistic that my wife’s sister refused to ride it again. On the plus side, my car does much better here, taking second overall.

Finally, we’re to my favorite part of the ride which is the “Power” test and, most importantly, the one my car finished first at. Our Sim-Car comes to an abrupt halt, preparing us for the violent velocity ahead. Then, it suddenly lunges ahead as the full 250 horsepower is activated. And that’s what makes electric vehicles so thrilling is that maximum output is available immediately, unlike combustion-based engines which have to gradually spin-up before generating peak energy. The electric aspect is nice also in that it doesn’t create the toxic, eye-watering emissions generated by the gasoline-powered go-carts at Tomorrowland Speedway.

We shoot down a corridor with flashing purple arrows like a rocket launching from a silo. Suddenly, we burst through and are on the outside portion of the track, diving deep into a right turn. The track then flips back to the left at a wide, fifty-degree radius. At this steep angle, the loading g-forces make the 65 mph speed feel like 90 mph. There’s an old automotive trope used to describe a car’s stellar cornering as “handling like it’s on rails”. In this case, such an overused cliché is truly appropriate since it really is on rails. And it also underscores the hyperbole employed by journalists to convey a point, since no production car could realistically approach those limits. Incidentally, Disney lore has it that Test Track was originally designed to accommodate speeds of 95 mph on the outside section of the track. However, officials vetoed it given safety concerns and Florida’s maximum speed limit of 65 mph. Alas, one can only imagine how breathtaking Test Track would be at 95 mph.

As we approach the end of the back straight, there’s a huge digital sign showing our speed. When we pass it, a camera flashes a bright light, taking our picture. But unlike Florida’s infamous Red Light Cameras, this is one Photo Radar device we won’t get a ticket from.  Sadly, it also signals the end of the 5 1/2-minute thrill ride. We glide back into the Test Track pavilion greeted by throngs of anxious patrons eager to take our place.

 

We unbuckle and walk out into the adjoining Chevrolet showroom which is filled with all manner of bowtie offerings. There’s a Silverado in one corner and a Malibu in another. A 2016 Sonic RS Turbo catches my eye and I walk over for a closer look. I wince as I see several toddlers climbing on it like a Jungle Gym. Their parents are nowhere to be seen and one is using the backseat as a trampoline while the other is furiously opening and slamming the doors. Not to be outdone, yet another is busy cramming gummy bears into every possible receptacle. Unfortunately, the Sonic RS Turbo is the sole Sport Compact offering from Chevrolet and is an anemic replacement for the 260 hp Cobalt SS which departed in 2010. The Sonic’s standard engine is a 1.8-liter four-cylinder generating 138 horsepower or you can opt for the “Sporty” 1.4 turbocharged four-cylinder with the same 138 hp. Unbelievably, GM is even hawking an official Stage Kit (p/n: 23233811) for $999 that adds 10 hp and 15 tq. Twenty years ago, 150 hp made for brisk acceleration in a sports coupe, but now you’ll be run over by a grandma in a V-6 Camry.

Drawing most of the attention is a 2015 Camaro SS. I give props to Chevy for advertising the gas-guzzling model which flies in the face of their eco-friendly ethos. However, I’m disappointed that it’s not the more-desirable 2016 model with the lightweight Alpha platform and 455hp Corvette V-8. In fact, given that the new Camaro’s combined fuel economy is up 20% over the 2015 model, you’d think they would be keen to advertise it.

 

We walk into the next room, and see the crown jewel of Chevrolet’s presentation: A 2016 Corvette Stingray. Illuminated from underneath in an eerie green glow, it looks like a ghostly apparition from the Haunted Mansion attraction. But what’s truly scary is the price tag—a base price of $60,400 plus another $18,425 in options. That’s right, the cost of the options alone is nearly enough to buy a 2016 Sonic RS Turbo! So how in the name of Zora Arkus-Duntov do you manage to rack up the price of a small car in just accessories? Most of it is for pretty, albeit expensive, Carbon Fiber. There’s $2,995 for a “Carbon Fiber Dual Roof Package”, $1,995 for a “Visible Carbon Fiber Hood” and $995 for a “Carbon Fiber Interior Package”. I’ll confess that while I’m offended by those prices, I’m also a little ashamed that the $250,000 Ferrari California Turbo I drove recently didn’t have any carbon fiber accouterments. But Chevy knows the extras are where the real profit is so how about $595 for red brake calipers? It’ll save you two hours in your driveway and an $8 can of caliper paint. Or what about $795 for Two-Tone Seats with “Sueded Microfiber Inserts”? Don’t forget $495 for “Black Painted Aluminum Wheels” even though it requires a $590 “Color Combination Override”. In keeping with the Carbon Fiber theme, there’s also a $100 “Carbon Fiber Badge Package” apparently telling you that the Carbon Fiber is, well, Carbon Fiber. Finally, toss in another $100 for “Carbon Flash Painted Mirrors” which coordinates the motif. 

 

 

Hoping to capitalize on the experience, the final area is a room predictably crammed with Chevrolet memorabilia for sale. Disney makes no secret that it is a “For Profit” organization and Walt’s original ideology of creating a special “Magic Kingdom” for kids has been replaced by an indoctrination of corporate greed. I declared to my wife that no longer are Disney movies produced to merely bring joy and happiness to children, but are shrewdly designed vessels for marketing as many products as possible, from clothing to toothpastes and everything in-between. Not to sound cynical, but it’s a little disheartening when three mugs of LeFou’s Brew (Basically frozen apple juice and mango foam) costs $30. But I’ve resigned myself to the fact that that the large crowds and high prices are the nature of the mouse. Still, it’d be nice to go to Disney just once when it wasn’t completely mobbed and they didn’t try to rob us blind. But if you do go, be sure to check out Test Track. It’s definitely worth the wait!