Seoul Mate

My wife has been driving for over twenty years and has never owned an import. Unfortunately, the last nine years with a Ford has changed all that. If you read my 100,000-mile report of our Freestyle in January 2014, than you’ll know what a roller-coaster ride it has been. In 2011, Ford stuck us with a $4000 CVT repair bill when it broke down at just 58,000 miles. Given that we bought it new, and had every recommended service performed at the dealership, I felt that Ford should have covered the repair for us, but they didn’t. And last summer, the new Motorcraft battery we bought died suddenly leaving her and my daughter stranded in the sweltering August heat. Add to that other problems such as a faulty fuel pump sending unit, a leaking valve cover gasket, broken engine mount, and quickly deteriorating air conditioner and it made no sense to fix them and prolong the agony. After all, the cost would exceed the value of the Freestyle thanks to the worst vehicle depreciation I’ve ever seen: That’s right, our 2006 Freestyle’s value has dropped  more than 90% from the new MSRP of $27,000 to now around $2500. So, last fall I made a deal with her to keep the Freestyle through the cooler winter months and then we’d trade it in before the weather got hot in the Spring.

After months of research and the best standard warranty available (60 months/60,000 miles bumper-to-bumper and 120 months/100,000 miles powertrain) we decided on a Hyundai. Based in Seoul, South Korea, Hyundai entered the U.S. Market in 1986 with one model, the Excel. And in that time they’ve turned a big corner in much the same way Honda and Toyota have. Last year, Hyundai placed fourth overall in the 2014 U.S. Initial Quality Study from J.D. Power, and was the highest-ranked non-premium nameplate, up six spots from 2013. And as a testament to improved reliability and striking designs, they’ve seen sales rise 75 percent since 2008. 

Because we had decided on Hyundai, we took a closer look at their Santa Fe crossover which we’ve admired since it debuted in 2001. Initially, we were elated with the Freestyle’s seven-seat capacity. That is, until my wife’s two sisters and their kids began panhandling for rides everywhere. Hauling around a bunch of freeloaders quickly became tiresome and left us wishing we didn’t have a third row. For that reason, we decided on the Santa Fe Sport, which is the five-seat version and eschews the third-row for more cargo space. Equally important was the 2.4-liter four-cylinder, which at 190 hp, was within 10 horsepower of the Freestyle’s 3.0-liter V6, but much less thirsty. We also liked that the Santa Fe was manufactured locally in West Point, Georgia, which is even closer than the Springhill facility my Saturn came from in Tennessee.

In early January, we stopped by Palmer’s Hyundai in Mobile to check out their inventory and take a test drive so Amanda could make sure it was what she wanted. However, it turned out that every Hyundai on the lot had a dealer-applied markup shown as “AMV” which varied anywhere from $1500-$2000. This “Adjusted Market Value” was nothing more than a surreptitious rip-off disguised as a legitimate charge. We left as soon as I saw that, although in hindsight I suppose I should thank them for being upfront about their dishonesty-- it certainly saved me a lot of time.  And much to my surprise, a cursory glance on the Hyundai Forums turned up that the “AMV” gouge is actually quite common among unscrupulous dealers.

Unfortunately, these deceptive tactics made the prospect of visiting new Hyundai showrooms even more undesirable.  So with an aversion usually reserved for trips to the dentist, we avoided any more car shopping until we couldn’t put it off any longer.

On February 3rd, we had to make a trip to Gulfport so I confidently told her that between Gautier and Hattiesburg there were three Hyundai dealers we could choose from. Since it was closest, we happened to end up at Allen Hyundai in Gulfport. Amanda was dead-set on getting a white vehicle, so we test drove the only white Santa Fe 2.4 that they had on the lot.  Regrettably, it was a dealership loaner that customers frequently used when their cars were being serviced. Our salesman downplayed the 7,000 miles on the odometer by advocating how much cheaper we would be able to purchase it for instead of a brand new one. Despite that, the “extensively-used” interior (i.e. carpet stains, evidence of kids punching and/or kicking the back of the seats, etc.) convinced us that we didn’t want it no matter how appealing the discount.

As fate would have it, there was also a white Turbo model on the lot, although I wasn’t too thrilled with the price on it. Whereas the 2.4 model was pretty attractive at $24,950, the Turbo model was $32,995.     

If their sales tactic was selling us an upscale model by first showing us how undesirable the demo model was, it certainly worked. The Turbo was brand new, with plastic still on the floor mats, and showed just 4 delivery miles on the odometer. The entire cabin was steeped in the fragrance of the leather upholstery and it mingled with the new car scent to create a woozy, intoxicating aroma. Perhaps the science of selling luxury items via aromatic scents is not so far-fetched after all? I didn’t have much time to ponder that as we pulled onto the highway and our salesman stabbed the gas to demonstrate the difference a twin-scroll turbocharger makes.

After we turned down a residential side street, it was easier to focus on the upscale appointments present in the Turbo model. For starters, my wife remarked immediately about how much better the leather-wrapped steering wheel felt compared to the regular plastic one. And the Turbo’s massive 235/60-18 wheels notwithstanding, it soaked up bumps as favorably as the smaller 17-inch tires on the 2.4 model. We also noticed that a lot of the optional features we wanted on the 2.4 were standard on the Turbo. My daughter’s primary complaints about the Freestyle centered on floor-mounted vents she couldn’t feel and the sun shining in her face. These problems were instantly solved with the second-row vents near the headrests and retractable rear-window sunshades.

Back at the dealership, I did the math and discovered that to outfit an entry-level 2.4 with all the standard amenities we wanted from the Turbo model (Leather upholstery, 4.3-inch Color touchscreen, Rearview Camera, etc.) would raise the price to $29,600. Now, arithmetic has never been my strong suit, but it seemed crazy to pay almost $30K for a loaded 2.4 model when I could spend a little extra and move up to the Turbo with it’s more-powerful engine and bigger wheels.

Amanda and I decided we wanted the white Turbo model we had driven, but with a weekend in Hattiesburg coming up, we didn’t know when we would get back to Gulfport to buy it. Up until then, our car shopping experience at Allen Hyundai had been much more pleasant than I’d expected. So I thanked our salesman for his time and promised him we’d be back to buy it (which I’m sure he’d heard thousands of times). It was at this point that I anticipated some resistance from him or the sales manager. But they were all as cheerful as could be, and Amanda and I left a little stunned that there was no pressure exerted on us to buy it immediately.

As we drove down the highway, we agreed that the Turbo was perfect, and we didn’t want to let it slip through our fingers. So we turned around and headed back to the dealership. Once there, I asked them to appraise our Freestyle so I could get an idea of what they were willing to pay for it. Granted, the Freestyle was dirty and hadn’t been washed in a while because we had no intention of actually trading it in that day. As such, they offered us $2,200 which fell under the “Rough Trade-In” NADA allowance. Truthfully, it was probably pretty accurate given the condition (122,000 miles, a crack in the windshield, stains on the seats, worn tires, etc.) but I was aiming for the “Average Trade-In” value of $3,000 since I was expecting them to negotiate down from the Santa Fe’s MSRP. Yet to my surprise, they presented me with a quote for the Santa Fe at just $300 over invoice. Secretly, I was delighted with their proposal, but with my best poker face I told them I needed $3,000 for the Freestyle. They agreed to meet me halfway at $2,500 and I accepted since I was already happy with the initial price, and the extra $300 was just icing on the cake. Truthfully, I could have probably haggled my way to $3000, but because the whole experience had been so stress-free, I was satisfied.

I was also pleased that there were no bogus charges like “Undercoating” tacked onto the sticker price. Their only concession to profit was a $99 charge for “Nitrogen-Filled” tires. Naturally, this is not something I would ordinarily purchase, but it does give me the opportunity to finally evaluate this popular trend on my own. Given that the $100,000 Nissan GT-R comes standard with Nitrogen-filled tires tells me there’s some value to it, but whether it will make a difference in our Santa Fe remains to be seen. The primary benefit of filling tires with Nitrogen is the principal that it’s much less susceptible to temperature and pressure fluctuations than conventional oxygen. As the water vapor expands or contracts due to heat and cold, it can make it necessary to regulate the amount of air in the tires on a weekly basis. Now, with the Santa Fe’s sophisticated Tire Pressure Monitoring System (TPMS) I can easily keep an eye on the individual pressures without having to use an old-fashioned tire gauge.

Our Turbo was also liberally outfitted with handsome, black carpeted floor mats and a black cargo mat. With Santa Fe stitched in silver on them, they retail for $160 and $130 respectively. I didn’t protest this accessory because I was going to buy them regardless. Sure, I could have saved a few dollars by purchasing them on Ebay, but then I would have had to wait a week or more on the shipping. The plush cargo mat is also so nice that it’s a shame to actually have to use it. I thought about buying a plastic cargo mat for it, but it seemed redundant to have a cover for the cover.  

The other dealer-installed addition that was already on the Turbo when we bought it was a heavy-duty trailer hitch. Unlike the garish ones with the shiny silver ball you see on pickup trucks, this was an all-black Class 2 Hitch with a two-inch receiver specifically designed for the Santa Fe. When not in use, a rectangular cover with the Hyundai logo keeps it camouflaged. Like the Nitrogen-inflated tires, this is not something I would have purposely specified, but it’s nice to have. Our Freestyle had a meager 1000 lbs. towing capacity, and that coupled with the troublesome transmission meant we would have never dreamed of even pulling a balloon behind it. But the Santa Fe can tow a whopping 3,500 lbs. which means I can even pull my Saturn if the need arises.

We had to transfer a significant amount of possessions from the Freestyle to the Santa Fe and this highlighted one of my wife’s favorite new features of the 2015 model-- The Hands-Free Smart Liftgate. It’s exceedingly convenient to not have to fumble with opening the rear liftgate when your hands are full. It also closes automatically which squelches one of my biggest gripes with the manual liftgate on the Freestyle and that was dusty handprints from numerous opening and closings. However, when the Santa Fe’s liftgate does close there’s enough alarms and flashing lights to make you wonder if a NASA Space Shuttle launch is imminent. Ostensibly, I believe this is so any appendages and small children are clear of the area. Otherwise, those items might be hastily converted into pâté.

As I mentioned before, the CVT in the Freestyle was great when it worked properly, and I was worried we had gotten spoiled on its seamless upshifts and downshifts over the past nine years. However, I was excited by just how smooth the Santa Fe’s six-speed automatic is. In fact, Hyundai utilizes their patented “Shiftronic” technology to allow drivers to manually select the gears if they so desire. This dynamic demeanor is further emphasized by a new 32-bit microprocessor that manages the electric power steering. For 2015, Hyundai's Driver Selectable Steering Mode (DSSM) has been enhanced with a retuned “Sport” setting that offers a firmer feel and more responsive feedback. Complementing this are new tire bushings, increased stiffness in the wheel bearings, lower control arms, and revised suspension geometry. The net result of all this engineering voodoo is an SUV that feels as solid as a Sherman tank, and tracks just as straight.

Of course, the Santa Fe would be as useless as a screen door on a submarine if it couldn’t get out of it’s own way. To combat this, Hyundai installed its Theta II turbocharged 2.0 four-cylinder. This engine is shared with the Mitsubishi Lancer Evolution and was jointly developed under the Global Engine Manufacturing Alliance. It’s also remarkably similar to the supercharged 2.0 four-cylinder in my Saturn. But thanks to ultramodern electronic sorcery lacking on my Red Line such as Variable Valve Timing (VVT) and Gasoline Direct Injection (GDI), the Santa Fe makes 265 hp on 87 octane (or 280 hp on 93 octane). Enthusiasts will recall that the legendary Syclone truck also made 280 hp, but required a turbocharged 4.3 V-6 to accomplish it. Car and Driver recently tested the 2015 Santa Fe Turbo Limited model with all-wheel drive, and noted that in spite of the excessive curb weight of 4,021 lbs., it still managed a sports car-like 6.6-second sprint to 60 mph. Furthermore, with our two-wheel drive model weighing some 450 lbs. less, it slices nearly a half-second from those figures. That would put our Turbo door-to-door with my Red Line’s stock quarter-mile of 14.7 @ 97 mph. Even more astounding, it grinds to a halt from 70 mph in 168 ft., just six-feet longer than my 2,800 lb. Saturn.  And although horsepower is bumped nearly 50% from the 2.4’s 190, it’s the inflated torque that makes the Santa Fe Turbo so responsive. Whereas the naturally-aspirated 2.4 doesn’t reach it’s maximum torque of 181 lb.-ft. until a lofty 4250 rpm, the Turbo achieves it’s 270 lb.-ft. at a much more usable 1750 rpm. Generating this twist is a Mitsubishi TD04 model that offers an overboost of 16-18psi with a sustained surge of 14psi. And ensuring 100,000 miles of trouble-free operation, the 1998cc block is reinforced with a ladder frame and forged connecting rods. Also, the engine is built at the Hyundai plant in Montgomery, Alabama, before being shipped over to Georgia for final assembly. Moreover, because the Santa Fe’s engine bay is sized to accommodate the larger 3.3-liter V6 of the 7-seat GLS model, there’s a surplus of space for the four-cylinder. In fact, this is the most space I’ve had in an engine compartment since my 1990 Mustang GT. And for someone accustomed to doing his own oil changes and other maintenance, it’s quite refreshing.

Hyundai has worked more magic than David Copperfield when designing the Santa Fe. Outwardly, it appears small and compact, but it’s no illusion how much interior room it has. In fact, it’s the exact same width as the Freestyle, yet 5 inches taller and a foot shorter. The extra height translates into the amphitheater-like openness of the cabin but the shorter length does sacrifice roughly 10 cubic feet of cargo space. Going in, this was a concession we knew we’d have to accept. What I wasn’t expecting was having a smaller gas tank. We’d gotten accustomed to the Freestyle’s 19 gallon tank, so to downsize to a 17.4 one in the Santa Fe came as a bit of a shock. Anyway, I rationalized that with the Hyundai’s superior fuel economy (we’ve seen as high as 34.8 mpg), we could still go considerably further than the Freestyle even with a tinier tank.

As we proceeded to leave the dealership, I pressed the illuminated “ENGINE START/STOP” button and the Santa Fe hummed to life. With the futuristic blue glow of the Electroluminescent Gauge Cluster, I felt like I was on the bridge of the U.S.S. Enterprise. Everywhere around me there were screens processing and displaying information. In the center console, a picture of the Santa Fe came up with “System Scan” flashing above it. A light bounced back and forth like it was being X-rayed, but thankfully it was just a routine check and not an impending TSA airport strip search. I counted no less than 17 buttons just on the steering wheel, for managing everything from the Bluetooth and USB devices to the satellite radio. Even the mirror had 7 buttons! Meanwhile, Amanda was busy adjusting the temperature of her heated leather seat. Travelling down the highway, a vehicle pulled alongside on my left and the Blind Spot Detection (BSD) lit up an amber silhouette of a car in my driver’s side mirror, warning me that it was there. This is a great feature since my wife is notoriously bad about changing lanes without looking. Even better, the Lane Change Assist can issue a Rear Cross-Traffic Alert (RCTA) that audibly cautions the driver if they try to move into a space occupied by another motorist. This, coupled with an alphabet-soup of safety features such as Electronic Stability Control (ESC), Traction Control System (TCS) and Vehicle Stability Management (VSM) system means even Stevie Wonder would be hard pressed to crash it. But, if such an unfortunate incident does occur, the Santa Fe is prepared with a whopping seven airbags covering everything from our head to our knees and earning it a five-star safety rating.

The next morning, I drove my 1996 del Sol to work and it felt like I had awakened twenty years in the past. The rudimentary controls and analog items (like the odometer and cassette player) were quite a shock after I had spent the previous night acclimating myself to the Santa Fe’s digital domain.  

So what are the Santa Fe’s shortcomings? Thankfully nothing major, but I’ve found a few nitpicks here and there. For starters, at the post $30K price-point I’d expect Xenon headlights and LED taillights but they’re only available in a $4,400 “Ultimate” package that includes such frivolous items as “Premium Door Sill Plates” and “Ultimate Badging on Liftgate”, the latter of which can be purchased on Ebay for $19.99. I’d be remiss if I didn’t point out that even econoboxes like a new $16,000 Toyota Corolla now come with standard Xenon headlights or a Nissan Sentra with LED tailights. Also, the steering wheel is so cluttered with buttons that there’s no room for an opening at the bottom of the steering wheel to rest my hand on long trips. At best, I can squeeze two fingers through, but this makes for an awkward grip like I’m attempting to throw a Major League knuckleball. And that would not be recommended on a ten-hour drive to Disney World unless I wanted prematurely arthritic hands. Again, this is our first car ever without that convenience, along with slippery, leather-covered door ledges that are too narrow to prop my arm on. Secondly, the maintenance schedule calls for new spark plugs at 45,000 miles which seems awfully early. The plugs on my Red Line are not due for a change until 100,000 miles although I did move to a colder plug when I dropped pulley sizes. Additionally, there’s so much power on tap that my wife is having to learn to recalibrate her right foot. Even with traction control enabled, she recently spun the tires merging into traffic which prompted my startled daughter to scream from the backseat, “ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL US?!?” Obviously, Victoria’s come to expect rapid acceleration from my car, but the Mom-mobile is another story. I’m also not particularly enamored with the Kumho Crugen tires which sound like something you’d order at Benihana. Truthfully, I had similar misgivings about the Continental Contisports on our Freestyle, but they ended up lasting 65,000 miles so I guess I really can’t complain.   

Considering we paid $27,000 for our no-frills Freestyle when we bought it new in March 2006, the Santa Fe Turbo represents a tremendous bargain at $30,000 out the door. It’s more luxurious, more powerful, and more fuel-efficient. We had cross-shopped other models such as the Mercedes-Benz GLK350 which Amanda really liked, but it had worse fuel-economy, a shorter warranty, and a nearly $10,000 premium. Having happily driven Saturns for twenty years, I’ve never been compelled to buy a car because of it’s fancy hood ornament, although those status-seeking individuals in Hurley who do are easy to spot. No, I think we’ll be just fine with our SUV that was built in Georgia and not Germany, thank you very much.

However, I do hope that our Santa Fe’s reliability is better than Hyundai’s customer relations. On the way back from my daughter’s dance competition in Birmingham, we stopped off to take a picture of our new Santa Fe in front of the manufacturing facility. Since it was a Sunday, I knew there would be no guided tours, so we simply pulled off on the side of the road to snap a shot with the sprawling facility in the background. And judging by the ruts and lack of grass on the shoulder, it looked like we weren’t the first to do that. I stepped outside while Amanda and Victoria remained inside the vehicle. I was having difficulty lining up our Santa Fe with the large Hyundai sign when I saw a Chevy Suburban rapidly approaching with the headlights flashing and the horn blaring. It pulled alongside and I saw a young black woman was the sole occupant. She had the passenger window down and started yelling at me that I couldn’t take pictures and that they were about to get my tag number and call the police. I almost burst out laughing at the absurdity of the situation. Clearly, I was not some spy committing international espionage. Even after I calmly pointed out that I had bought a new Hyundai and simply wanted to take a picture in front of the sign, she was less friendly than the Japanese during World War II. So when I saw that her hostile attitude wasn’t going to change, I ceased trying to reason with her and we left. Conversely, I mentioned to my wife that despite the woman’s bluster and idle threats, there was nothing legally they could do since I was on a public highway. But the experience did leave me with one nagging conundrum that will possibly never be answered: Hyundai’s security patrol drives Chevy Suburbans!?!  

Over Spring Break, we took our longest trip yet to Panama City and Destin. With enough insects and bugs splattered on our windshield to make an entomologist envious, and white sand covering every square inch inside and out, I do believe our Santa Fe has lost it’s luster of newness. But the big thrill for me was observing the real-time fuel economy of 28.4 mpg at an air-conditioned 85 mph on the interstate. In comparison, the Freestyle only managed 22 mpg on a similar Florida trip last year, and that’s not even counting the Hyundai’s extra horsepower. And despite the worst tourist traffic we’ve ever encountered on the Emerald Coast, the Santa Fe handled it and the soaring spring temperatures with aplomb. My only complaint was some initial stiction in the accelerator pedal which made it hard to smoothly apply the throttle. Other than that, it was much lighter and more nimble than the longer and heavier Freestyle.   

Finally, my daughter has christened our new Frost White Santa Fe “Elsa” after the polar queen from Disney’s Frozen. And because everything was so rushed with us buying it spontaneously, I needed some assurance that we chose the ideal one to serve us for the next 10 years. It was a couple days after we got it home that I noticed the build date of January 6th 2015, which coincidentally was the same day as my Mother’s passing. So, was it just a cosmic coincidence that of all the Santa Fe’s we ended up with this one? For me, that’s a clear enough sign that she approves, and that we picked the right one.    

Pirate Press Readers' Rides: 2013 Ford Focus ST

It’s not often I get the opportunity to review a new performance car owned by one of the long-time readers of Pirate Press, but this just so happens to be one of those rare occasions.

The vehicle in focus is, funny enough, a Focus. And due to it’s humble origins, it gets about as much respect as my Saturn.

That’s right, the Focus started out in 1998 as the successor to the Ford Escort, the ubiquitous economy car of Generation X. Granted, the Escort was a decent, albeit unexciting, way to get from Point A to Point B. And it seemed that it fell into two sales demographics: If you were unlucky enough to be under twenty, or over sixty, you owned an Escort.

Ford sought to overturn this prejudice with the 2002 Focus SVT. It was the 170 hp car for people who wanted some caffeine in their morning coffee, but without the high-insurance and fuel-penalty of the Mustang GT. Built in small batches like a good whiskey, it was even named as one of Car and Driver’s 10 Best Cars of 2002. Alas, like Formula 1 in North America, the SVT Focus was largely invisible and cancelled in 2004.

But it’s overseas success continued and in 2005, Ford introduced the second generation of the Focus ST in Europe. With 225 hp and a 152 mph top speed, it put the Focus on North American wish lists even though it was more politically non grata than Fidel Castro.

All the while, British publications continued to rub our Yankee noses in the fact that we couldn’t buy one at any price. In 2009, Autocar picked the 300 hp Focus RS over the 480 hp Nissan GT-R: “The Focus RS is no match for the GT-R on The 'Ring, where the massive power and sophisticated AWD setup gives the Nissan a clear advantage over the FWD, 300 HP Ford. Take the two out to some wonderful back roads in the English countryside and it's a slightly different story. Whereas the GT-R is all about the controlled distribution of force, the Focus RS is all about confident fun. As a real world daily driver on narrow roads with steep drop-offs and few long straights, the Focus RS wins out in terms of experience.”

Top Gear U.K. presented a similar argument pitting the RS against Ford’s 550 hp GT supercar with the same conclusion: “It doesn't matter that the GT has several hundred horsepower more than the RS, it doesn't matter that it can pull more lateral G, or that it is by some margin a more focused fast car. It's just that in the RS you can deploy 85 percent of the available ability in every situation. The GT can't. On any kind of straight, the GT murders the RS, no matter how useless the driver, but it's when you start to pinch back effortless seconds on the bendy bits that the RS starts to make rich owners of supposedly superior cars sweat quite badly and have militant thoughts about their latest supercar acquisition.”

With such effusive praise, it was therefore met with mini-riots of celebration when it was revealed that Ford would finally start selling the new 252 hp 2013 Focus ST here. Naturally, there was some dissent that we weren’t getting the hotter 300 hp RS model, or the ultimate 350 hp RS500, but in retrospect it looks like Ford knew what it was doing.

The particular Tuxedo Black 2013 Focus ST that I drove belongs to Randy Saunders, a life-long enthusiast who has driven Fords for thirty years. Starting with a new 1986 Mustang GT, he progressed up the horsepower ladder before ending with a modified 2007 Shelby GT500 that made over 600 hp at the rear wheels. He’s also an experienced driver, having spent those same three decades racking up countless races on the street and at the track.

We met up at the Cars and Coffee I covered last month and when it was winding down, he offered me the opportunity to take the Focus for a spin. Like myself, he’s keenly aware that his car doesn’t carry a prestigious nameplate and that may cause some discrimination at car shows. However, he expects it and with his self-deprecating sense of humor, he’s the first to make fun of it. “What idiot would pay $30K for a Focus?” he asks rhetorically before answering, “Oh, wait...I did!”  

Upon opening the driver door, I was greeted by the deeply bolstered Recaro seats. Part of the top-of-the-line $4,435 ST3 Equipment Group, these heated leather seats are the closest to actual race car seats that I’ve ever experienced in a production car. However, if you routinely shop in the “Big & Tall” section or purchase “Husky”-size pants, then you might want to pass on the snug-fitting chairs. They’re wonderful for holding you in place during spirited driving, but may be a bit uncomfortable if your waistline approaches your age. In fact, we spoke at length to one such portly owner who purposely purchased his Focus ST without the Recaros for that very reason.

The next thing that strikes me is that there is no ignition cylinder or place for a key, just a push-button start. Naturally, this would have saved GM millions of dollars in legal woes, bad publicity, and recall headaches if cars such as mine had this feature.  I tentatively push the red Start/Stop button and with a brief whir of the starter, the Focus comes to life.

Randy reaches over and makes an adjustment on the dash. I see an image of a tiny car with wavy lines behind it illuminate on the instrument panel. “I’ve just turned off the traction control,” he announces before adding, “You’re in Sport Mode now.” He explains that there are two other settings as well: The default setting is called “Standard Mode” and enables all driving aids allowing the car to maintain grip and stability in virtually any weather condition. The other setting is the most extreme, which disables all electronic intervention. Depending on your skill level, this can either be a blessing or a curse. However, with “Sport Mode” the system acts as high-wire net, intruding only if I do something life-threatening.       

As I find first in the gearbox and go to pull away, I’m startled by the light take-up of the clutch. Typically, performance cars are imbued with heavy clutch pedals due to the necessary clamping force. I recall there was a distinct increase in clutch stiffness when I graduated from my 125 hp SC2 to my 205 hp Red Line. But the ST’s airy clutch takes some getting used to, as I don’t want to embarrassingly stall it at an intersection.

Turning a corner, the leather-wrapped steering wheel looks and feels good in my hands. It has thumb grips at the Ten and Two positions as well as thick, contrasting stitching. At the bottom, there’s an aluminum insert with a bright red “ST” emblazoned on it. Unlike the clutch, there’s just the right amount of weight to it--- it’s neither too light nor too heavy. There are buttons on either side of the steering wheel, but I don’t have the time or the inclination to study them in traffic.

Even short-shifting around town, it’s evident how torque-friendly the 2.0-liter four-cylinder is. In stock form, the turbocharged engine is electronically limited to 270 lb.-ft. at 2500 rpm, but Randy’s custom “Unleashed” tune bumps that up to a neck-snapping 340 lb.-ft. at just 2800 rpm. I remark to him how torquey the Focus is and he points out that I’m not even in the boost yet. Indeed, nestled in a tiny nacelle on the top of the dash are three gauges. The turbo boost gauge is in the middle, flanked by one for water temperature and the other for oil pressure. The boost gauge spans from 0-25 PSI and I ask Randy how much it produces with the tune and he replies 22 PSI. He admits it could make more, but instead prefers to err on the conservative side for safety reasons. As I dip into the boost in second gear, I discover that the gauge is really more for aesthetics than information. Unless you’re a passenger, it’s simply impossible to divide your eyesight between it and the road as the car leaps forward. Incidentally, Randy states that with the new tune there’s not the precipitous drop-off in power experienced with the stock electronics. Now, he declares, it pulls strongly all the way to the red line.

Prior to the drive, Randy had warned me about torque steer with the car in Sport Mode, but if there was any present I positively didn’t feel it. With meaty 235/40-18 Goodyear Eagle F1 tires and electrically-assisted rack-and-pinion steering, the ST laid down all 340 lb.-ft. of torque with nary a tug at the wheel. As for power, a tune-adjusted 250+ horsepower is present at the front wheels. And due to a lightweight composite intake manifold and cam cover, as well as an exhaust manifold integrated within the cylinder head, turbo-lag is practically non-existent.

When it comes time to stop, I discovered the brakes are as touchy as the clutch. There’s maybe an inch of travel before they grab and then they stop RIGHT NOW! Seriously, the first time I used them I almost catapulted us through the windshield. Confidence-inspiring is an understatement for these discs which measure 12.6 inches up front and 10.7 in the back. Stopping distance is a measured 164 feet from 70 mph with excellent modulation.

Despite the stunning acceleration and braking, Randy claims the ST’s real strength is in the handling. Like an overzealous driving instructor, he urged me to go faster and faster on each and every corner we tackled. “Don’t use the brakes!” he demanded as we’d lean into a curve, which is something you seldom hear on test drives. Sure enough, there was no body-roll or sideslip even at fantastic speeds. Yet remarkably, the washboard-stiff chassis didn’t translate to a jarring or harsh ride. Freeway expansion strips were met with a muted thump that didn’t upset the balance of the car, and the ST was so calm and centered that I felt I could drive it for days on end.              

The Ford engineers could have simply stopped there and the ST would have still been a roaring success. But they went a step further, and made sure the rest of the car was commensurate with the powertrain. As we were stopped at a red light, Randy commanded, “Play Kickstart My Heart!” Immediately, Mick Mars’ famous opening guitar riff flooded the cabin and the MyFord Touch display screen lit up with all the pertinent info from the Dr. Feelgood album. Randy cranked up the stereo momentarily to let me sample it before turning it down and concluding, “Not too bad for a stock system!” The built-in navigation is also a nice feature, and sure beats the heck out of having to suction-cup a Garmin GPS to the windshield on trips. Finally, there’s even a “Hill Assist” function for parking on steep grades. I can’t really envision using it around here, but I suppose it would be a lifesaver in areas like San Francisco.

Although gas prices have started declining, nearly eight years with the Obama Administration has turned car enthusiasts’ questions of “What’s the MPH?” to “What’s the MPG?” Surprisingly, the average displayed on Randy’s Focus is a very respectable 29.4 MPG. He adds that this is on the low-side from a lot of city driving, and that he has seen as high as 34 MPG on the highway. Incredibly, he credits the aftermarket programming for actually improving his overall fuel economy. And with the handheld programmer, he can load various tunes on the fly depending on what is required. For instance, a trip to the dealer necessitated flashing it back to stock, or if no premium fuel is available (a scenario that happened after Hurricane Katrina) there’s even a low-octane setting. All totaled, he has six different configurations to choose from, and setting a new one only takes a couple minutes.

So what’s not to like about the ST? Well, and some might not even consider this a negative, the car is almost too quiet. Ford was aware of this during development and even went so far as to design a system that pipes in manufactured acoustics. Called a “Sound Symposer” it utilizes a sophisticated valve and composite paddle to amplify and transmit the desired sounds into the cabin. Understandably, this synthetic sound has fallen on a lot of deaf ears with owners who resent the effort. Randy, for his part, has removed the symposer completely. And to make his Focus more vocal, he’s ordered a new cat-back exhaust system that deletes the muffler entirely. He says it will be easy to spot since it replaces the factory trapezoidal exhaust tip with two rounded ones. Regrettably, it arrived too late to be included in the test drive, but he sent me a picture after it was installed.

Also, it seems the designers didn’t pay as much attention to the engine bay as they did the Focus’s flashy exterior. When I popped my hood at Cars and Coffee to proudly show off the supercharger, Randy simply shrugged his shoulders and maintained there was no reason for him to do the same, since a large shroud conceals much of the engine and turbocharger. Certainly, there’s an eye-catching “ST” logo on the intake manifold, but most everything else is hidden under acres of black plastic. Again, some might not be turned off by this, particularly those who aren’t enamored with cleaning their engines every week.

And as with any new model, there were also some minor teething problems such as a recommended removal and replacement of the rear motor mount for customers who experienced a loud noise when changing gears. Still, for a first year car, that’s not an awfully bad thing. 

Finally, and this isn’t a ding against the Focus as much as it is against my driving habits, but I had trouble with the six-speed transmission. The physical location of the gearbox was over much more than what I’m used to, so I was continually making sure that I had first gear and not third. Secondly, the ST’s engine was so smooth and drama-free that Randy had to to continually remind to shift into sixth gear. Typically, engine noise from the high revs will alert you to shift into the next gear, but the Focus was so tolerant that I was never aware I was in the wrong gear.     

We pull back into the parking lot and I look at the odometer and see a mere 11,000 miles from nearly two years of ownership. I’ve seen exotic cars with higher mileage than that. Although it would make a perfect 300 hp daily driver, Randy defends the weekends-only use as a consequence of both the distance he commutes daily, as well as where he commutes. He relates a story of his previous work car that was retired with 250,000 miles on it. He travels the interstate nearly 500 miles each week and claims the combination of bugs and highway debris had literally sand-blasted the paint off the nose and hood. Besides, he wants to keep the Focus pristine for whatever he decides to trade it in on next. He says a recent test drive of the new 2015 Mustang GT was met with disappointment when it failed to handle as well as his Focus. But for now, he’s waiting on the new Shelby GT-350 and Focus RS before he makes his decision.   

Cars and Coffee Mississippi Gulf Coast

On October 1st, a thread popped up on the South Central section of the Ferrari Forum which was entitled, “Cars & Coffee (Gulf Coast - Biloxi/Gautier, MS)”. Given that the South Central geographic area comprises Mississippi, Alabama, Tennessee and Georgia, seeing something Ferrari-related just thirty minutes from my house happens about as often as Jennifer Lopez and Iggy Azalea show up at my front door to sing “Booty”.

Which is to say, um, never.

No, I live in possibly the single worst state for exotic cars. And before you say “Kentucky!”, know that someone very rich just bought the first LaFerrari in Atlanta and had it delivered to the Bluegrass state. And at an MSRP of $1.69 Million, that’s a lot of KFC chicken wings!

I could scarcely believe what I was reading and my eyes devoured every word as if I had received a winning letter from Publisher’s Clearing House:

”After some speculations and planning, a community of exotic owners over on the Gulf Coast area thought it would be nice to turn their annual meets into something bigger and more meaningful... Cars & Coffee! This is the first ever establishment of Cars & Coffee down here on the Gulf Coast (Biloxi/Gautier MS area) so mark this down on your calendar and come on out!”

Naturally, this sounded great but it was still over two months away and our coastal weather is about as unpredictable as Kim Jong-un. Until the date drew closer, it could potentially be postponed---or even cancelled outright---by a December deluge.

One week out, I replied to the forum thread that the weather looked great and inquired if everyone was still planning on attending. The person that started the thread replied, “We will be there at 6:45AM to setup and hangout.”

On Thursday after work, I decided to brave the cold and wash my car so I could devote Saturday to detailing the interior and exterior. I proceeded to spend roughly three hours washing and drying it in the dark before securing it under a car cover. On Friday morning, I attempted to drive the del Sol only to realize that the cold and lack of use had killed it’s battery. In fact, the battery was so dead, it wouldn’t even respond to a jump-start. Frantically, I tried our little Suzuki truck (which usually never leaves our thirty acres) but it’s battery was also deader than Elvis. It was at this point that I realized I had no other choice but to drive my spotless Saturn, thereby effectively throwing away the previous night’s three hours of cleaning. Naturally, this was quite frustrating, and I’m sure people two states across heard my screaming Tourette's Syndrome-string of expletives. As such, this twist of fate gave me the unique opportunity to hand wash and dry my car all over again, thereby presenting me with the dubious honor for the cleanest car ever washed twice in twenty-four hours. 

Come Saturday, I set about detailing the engine bay down to such extremes as repainting some of the more visible silver and black bolts and slathering the interior and exterior in approximately fifty gallons of Armor-All. This fanatical level of concentration extended to even cleaning and Armor-Alling the wheel wells. I can count on one hand the number of times I have ever washed the wheel wells, and this was the first.

Fortunately, unseasonably warm weather was the forecast for the event which meant our Christmas Cars and Coffee was one of the only gatherings in the nation that could be attended in shorts and t-shirts without fear of frostbite. The weather was perfect, proving that God loves Ferraris, and my alarm clock awakened me abruptly at 6:00 AM. I’m not a morning person, so I typically get up early on Sundays about as  often as Halley’s Comet passes by. Nevertheless, early Sunday morning drives are their own reward, as many of the idiots that clog our country’s byways are still blissfully sleeping off the previous night’s inebriation. This allowed me ample opportunity to drive my car at 120 mph thereby killing polar bears, destroying the Amazon, and depleting our natural resources even faster than I normally do! In fact, it was at this felonious velocity that I passed a blue Mazda RX-8 whom I was sure was also on his way to Cars and Coffee. But given the fact that I never saw it again, I can only assume that he was either really early, or really late, for something else.

Once I entered Gautier’s city limits, I clamped down on the 40 mph speed limit faster than a politician on a bribe. The city of Gautier had fought the legislation allowing the Cars and Coffee event tooth-and-nail, so it was no secret they were expecting us. The last thing I needed was some rookie trying to make an example of me.

 

Cars and Coffee officially kicked off at 8:00 AM, but I arrived a little after 7:45. Anyone who’s ever been to one knows that if you’re on-time, than you’re already late. For instance, to get the best parking spots at Caffeine and Octane in Atlanta, participants usually line-up around 6:00 AM.     

 

The small parking lot held spaces for 80 cars, but over 180 on social media had pledged to show up. As I backed into a parking spot, I saw the exotics had already arrived. They were parked in the east corner, and the unwritten rule was that area was reserved solely for them. Among them was a McLaren MP4-12C, Lamborghini Gallardo, Dodge Viper, and three Nissan GT-Rs.

 

It immediately became evident that the neurotic amount of time spent preparing my car was unnecessary, as it garnered very little attention compared to the exotics in attendance. Regardless, I’d like to let the record show that my $25,000 Saturn was indeed cleaner than the $250,000 McLaren.  Previously, I had joked that my Saturn would be the only one there, but I was proven wrong by someone who brought a trashed-out, four-door Saturn Aura. Looking like it hadn’t been washed since a Republican was in office, it was boldly parked in the lineup between a new $75,000 Camaro Z/28 and a stunning Acura NSX. Indeed, there was no way I could hope to compete with it and the set of Pep Boys fog lights haphazardly screwed to the front grill.

 

Despite the fact that it was the Ferrari forum that brought me here, there were only three present and all were V8 models--- a 2000 F360, a 2005 F430 and a black F360 Spider that curiously showed up near the end. The F430 still bore temporary tags and I happened to strike up a conversation with the owner of the F360, Richard Weavil, a successful property developer from Mobile, AL. As fate would have it, we both knew B.J. Lyon, and our exchange took off from there. He was impressed by my encyclopedic knowledge of Ferraris which I demonstrated when I noticed that his car had been purchased from Foreign Cars Italia. Taking me for a neophyte, he elaborated that it was an authorized Ferrari dealer in Greensboro, North Carolina. I then proceeded to tell him I knew it well, and that it was where Bob Rapp had purchased the first Enzo (and a yellow one, at that) delivered to North America in 2003. I further amazed him when I correctly guessed that his louder-than-stock exhaust was from an aftermarket Capristo muffler. He simply shook his head in disbelief when he lifted the engine bonnet to show it off. I told him my one reservation about buying a Ferrari similar to his F360 was the horror stories about maintenance costs and reliability problems. He didn’t deny that they weren’t possible, but stated that despite his being a relatively high-mileage example (with 40K on the odometer) he’d had very few problems. Richard volunteered that the secret was finding a good local mechanic who could troubleshoot those issues. Otherwise, it would require loading on a flatbed and hauling to Ferrari of Atlanta which was an expensive and time-consuming process. He recounted a similar experience where he said the car was just running awful. Upon inspection by his mechanic, it was determined with a temperature gun to the mufflers that the left bank of cylinders was running a lot hotter than the right. That established that the Mass Airflow Sensor was the culprit and a new one was an easy fix. But he cautioned that even though he saved a small fortune due to bypassing the dealer, the Bosch sensor was still a whopping $975. In comparison, when we had to replace the MAF unit on our 2006 Ford Freestyle it was less than $100, and the Ferrari actually uses two, one for each bank of cylinders. 

The “oddity” of the group, and that’s saying a lot when there was also a gold Lamborghini with “MO DILLA” emblazoned across the front windshield and a hot rod with a plywood roof, was a 1984 Fiero possessing a 350 V8. Boasting an “Antique Car” license plate and enough stickers to make any ten year-old jealous, the Fiero had a handmade sign with such inspirational messages as “Dream it”, “DO IT!” and, of course, “Team USA”.  Sadly, I never spotted motivational speaker Tony Robbins nor did I have any idea he was touring the country in a thirty year-old Pontiac.   

It was unanimously decided that the award for “Best-in-Show on an Unlimited Budget” was the bright-orange McLaren MP4-12C. Regrettably, I didn’t get any pictures of it because it was always mobbed more than 1 Direction at an elementary school. But the enthusiastic owner, a short man who could pass for Danny Devito’s brother, was not afraid to drive it. He bragged that with 30,000 miles on it, his 12C was the highest mileage in the world. And he started that by driving it the 500-miles from Park Place McLaren in Dallas back to his home in Louisiana. He claims the first set of tires lasted nearly 25,000 miles, and then produced a small notebook where he’d jotted down the fuel economy for every fill-up. Amazingly, the averages were in the mid 20’s and this is despite the spirited driving which included him hitting 180 mph past a barn on a rural road. “I could have gone faster,” he chuckled “but I was afraid of a deer running out in front of me.” Fair enough, I suppose if anything could be accused of sending a deer into a frenzy it would be an alien-looking object, the color of the sun, shrieking down the highway at 264 feet per second. He then raised the driver’s door skyward for a better view of the carpeted monocoque tub and carbon-fiber cabin. The mile-wide sill looked like an obstacle for an Olympic hurdler, but he claimed the 12C is a real sweetheart in traffic, with none of the fussiness usually attributed to a super car. It might not have been the fastest (that honor went to the 1000 hp Nissan GT-R with the questionably-colored blue wheels and mufflers) but it was certainly the most complete package.

“Best-in-Show on a Budget” went to the red 2015 Camaro Z/28. Granted, $75,000 ain’t pocket change, but then again, this isn’t your Uncle Sal’s Camaro. Nope, this is the Chevy that actually matched-- and even outpaced-- the million-dollar Porsche 918 Spyder on several sections of Virginia International Raceway during Car and Driver’s 2014 Lightning Lap. A lot of the credit rests on the shoulders of the Z/28’s enormous tires (the fronts alone are 305/30, a staggering 11-inches across). Shod with ultra-sticky Pirelli Trofeo R rubber, these tires barely qualify as street-legal. And with an 80 tread-wear that’s thinner than a bible page, don’t expect them to last more than a few thousand miles or a couple track days. Also, that gorgeous black front splitter means a trip to Wal-Mart, McDonalds, or anywhere else you might encounter a speed bump, is strictly off-limits. 

In absentia was a new lime-colored Dodge Challenger with the “Hellcat” package. The local owner recently picked the car up, and had promised online to display it at Cars and Coffee, but was a no-show. It would have been amusing because nothing says “green” and eco-friendly like a 707 horsepower supercharged 6.2-liter HEMI V8 that gets 13 mpg. In fact, some of the Hellcat’s rumored colors that didn’t make the cut were “Catch Me Copper”, “Unforeseeable Fuchsia” and “Statutory Grape”.  Also conspicuously missing was a single Cobalt SS or Neon SRT-4, usual staples of car meets. And aside from an old truck with a “Honk if you love Dick” bumper sticker (that advertised a restaurant called Dirty Dick’s) and two Honda Civics with fuzzy stick-on antlers and large red noses, the event was thankfully rice-free.    

 

Overall, the inaugural Cars and Coffee was a resounding success. By 9:00 AM, all the parking spaces were full and the cars trickling in had to be directed to the overflow lot across the street. As they began to leave around 11:00, many practiced the celebratory departure seen at Cars and Coffee events across America. That is, a smoky exit with the tires spinning and the engine howling. Naturally, this is a highlight of the show and we initially thought the police presence might put a kibosh on that finale. But miraculously, the traffic cops stood by as one after another lit up the rear tires. Or, as in the case with the 1000 hp Nissan GT-R, all four tires. 

There’s been no word on when, or if, another Cars and Coffee is planned. However, given the enthusiastic outpouring, I can’t imagine there not being at least one in 2015. Gentlemen, start your engines!

Showdown at Sunset

Reflecting back on the past four years of ownership with my Ion, it seems I’m fortunate enough to participate in one good street race every year (The last I chronicled was Burger Dash on 11/30/2012). And Lord knows, my odds are even worse at the casinos. But on this tiresome Thursday afternoon, as I trudged home with the other commuters I observe coming and going every day, fate saw fit to intervene.

I turned off the four-lane asphalt artery that connects Hurley to Lucedale to take a rural shortcut that shaves a couple miles off my total travel. As I rounded one of the first curves, I was shocked to see an orange Mustang performing a traffic-blocking three-point turn in the middle of the road. Had I been drinking, I might have blamed such a sight on the alcohol. Immediately, I slowed not knowing how long he planned on obstructing my passage, or even which way he intended to go. After a couple of ham-fisted maneuvers, the Mustang was pointed in the same direction I was going. And in an attempt to extricate himself as quickly as possible, the rear tires spun as one was on the pavement and the other off on the grassy shoulder. The rear driver tire left a long black streak while the rear passenger tire threw up chunks of vegetation and sediment like a 400 yard-drive from John Daly. 

Littered with trash and trailers that looked to be right out of an episode of “Hoarders”, the area I was in would never be classified as economically thriving, so I was surprised to see the Mustang’s dual tailpipes. Typically, for this depressed demographic the standard is strictly four-cylinders, and the realization that it was a V8 Mustang instantly quickened my pulse with anticipation. Now, I just needed to see if he was game for a backwoods Grand Prix. I’ve mentioned in past articles that the State Troopers patrol the highways with an ardent Al Qaeda-like fervor, so felonious velocities are best left to less visible routes such as the one I was on. Ironically, these poorly maintained country roads are much more dangerous for high speed travel but are the only viable avenue for avoiding radar-enforced revenue generation.

Now a couple car-lengths behind the Mustang, I was able to recognize it as a first-generation SN95 model. That is, it was after the 87-93 vintage I owned, but before Ford’s controversial “New Edge” styling theme of the ‘99 model. Doing the math in my head, I knew that Ford had dropped the venerable 302 for a smaller 4.6-liter V8. And assuming it  was stock, I had the Stang’s 215 hp covered, but even with Stage 3, I couldn’t touch the tractor-like 285 lb-ft of torque.

We approached my turn-off, and I was sure he would go straight as almost everyone who travels this road does. But to my delight, he turned and then I spotted an older truck in front of us. I was endeavoring to determine if the Mustang was on his own, or was trying valiantly to catch up to friends in the truck. I was worried that may be the case and as such there would be no race. However, a short straightaway opened up and he gunned it to pass the truck, so I had my answer. I hastily judged the room I had to pass before the looming curve and went after him. The speed limit on the twisty back road was 45 mph, but I found that third gear (with a spread between 65-95 mph) was perfect. I’d never had a race in this area before and it was a wonderful opportunity to explore the acceleration, braking, and handling capabilities of my car.

At Christmas, when I had my left front tire off to change the transmission fluid, I noticed the factory rotor was developing a lip on it and needed to be replaced soon. I had received my new Akebono brake pads (the same as on the new $1 Million-dollar McLaren P1), but was still waiting on the cross-drilled rotors, so I didn’t want to push my brakes too hard. Yet even with that conservative approach in mind, it was evident that the Mustang was having to brake extremely early for curves while I could close the gap and brake a lot later. And while the Ford’s 17-inch tires were blessed with a slightly larger contact patch (245/45 versus my 215/45) it was also cursed with an extra 500 lbs of mass, much of it over the front wheels. 

A longer straightaway appeared and I could see the GT already accelerating, trying to maximize its head start. Alas, it wasn’t enough as I floored the throttle—and with seemingly elastic performance—reeled him in like a trophy bass. But the Mustang was conspicuously quiet, even under wide open-throttle, enough that it validated my earlier assessment of it being stock right down to the mufflers. At this point, I didn’t know what was more startling...that I was witnessing a Mustang GT devoid of the famous Flowmaster exhaust everyone and their cousin installs, or that it was the color of Tang, that awful powered beverage Astronauts drank in the 1970s. 

Like an automotive cat-and-mouse, we carried this pace up for another mile as he would squirm away and then a squeeze of my throttle would pull him back in. As mentioned in my initial ownership report (May 2010), the Red Line was GM’s first sport compact to benefit from high-speed development on Germany’s 14-mile-plus Nordschleife circuit that consists of 33 left turns, 40 right turns and 170 bends. And late last year, I installed the upgraded front and rear transmission mounts from the 2010 Cobalt SS Turbo. They were worth every penny here as despite the fast sweepers, the chassis stayed as smooth and flat as Nebraska. Conversely, given the way the Mustang was bobbing up and down on its springs like a dinghy in a hurricane, the Ford driver was not so fortunate. But then, he flipped on his blinker and took a fork in the road that led him away from my path home. I’m sure he had no idea what car was pursuing him; he probably thought it was a Lexus or some similar high-dollar import. Nevertheless, he found out the hard way that eight-cylinders don’t always beat four.

Once home, I googled the pumpkin pony I had dueled with and discovered some interesting facts: For starters, the paint is officially know as “Bright Tangerine” and only 829 Mustang GTs were sprayed that color in 1996. Such low production volume explains why I have never seen one that shade before, but after nearly twenty summers there was nothing “bright” about it. In fact, I would go so far as to describe it more along the lines of Sunset Orange, as the oxidation and fading had reduced the color to a dull luster. Let’s face it, that Mustang had probably not seen a can of car wax since it left the factory. And a test in Car and Driver of a similar ‘94 GT showed it galloping through the quarter in 14.9 seconds at 93 mph. Obviously, the Mustang would have fared better with my Ion when it was stock (14.7 @ 97 mph) but not by much--- at 130 mph, a stock 205 hp Ion would be almost ten seconds ahead (35.9 to 44.7). There’s a similar gap under hard braking too, as my Saturn stops from 70 mph in 162 feet as opposed to 179 for the Ford. With those numbers in hand, it’s obvious he never stood a chance against my 300 hp Saturn. 

Regardless, the impromptu race injected a fair bit of excitement into an otherwise dreary winter evening, even if it did blow my fuel economy for the week!

2006 Ford Freestyle 100,000-Mile Review

THE ADVENTURE BEGINS

 

After adding an infant, car seat, and stroller to our four-door Saturn L300 we discovered that we needed more room. Although we had primarily driven GM cars (she had a Corsica and Cavalier, while I drove a slew of Saturns) we unanimously decided to look at Ford SUVs. I was partial to the popular Explorer, but on that Sunday afternoon at Coastal Ford, she spotted a new model called the Freestyle. While comparably priced with Ford’s larger SUV, the Freestyle was sleeker and looked like an Explorer that had been sculpted in a wind-tunnel. Since Coastal was closed, we ended up at Treadwell Ford where I had worked during the summer of ‘92. There we took back-to-back test drives in both the Explorer and Freestyle. The decision was undisputed given the Freestyle’s rigid unibody construction. It rode and handled like a midsize sedan, while the clunky body-on-frame Explorer bounced and crashed over bumps and pot-holes. And with post-Katrina gas prices skyrocketing, I was pleased the Freestyle used a V6 instead of a thirsty V8. So, on March 22, 2006 we picked up our new Ford Freestyle with just 4 miles on the odometer.

 

As with any new car, the first year with the Freestyle was a real honeymoon. We took multiple trips to New Orleans and Florida without so much as a hiccup, racking up over 1,000 miles per month. And despite recent warnings of volatile organic compounds (VOCs) and health hazards, I enjoyed that new car smell, which my brother-in-law described as “the most expensive fragrance on earth”. Still, there were a couple small complaints early on which centered around the gas mileage and the brake dust. The window sticker stated that the EPA ratings were 20 MPG City and 27 MPG Highway, and I’ve never owned a vehicle that didn’t at least reach (or exceed) the highway mileage. So when numerous fill-ups averaged a disappointing 22 MPG,  I wrote it off as the new engine still breaking-in. However, I was more puzzled by the rear wheels which kept accumulating tons of brake dust. In reality, the fronts should have been dirty and the rear ones clean. At the 12,000-mile service, I asked Treadwell to have the rear brakes inspected, as was subsequently informed that they tested fine.

Roughly six-months later in September 2007, we were getting ready to pull out of our driveway when the Freestyle failed to move. Granted, it was a bizarre experience as it felt like the parking brake was stuck. No amount of throttle would budge it and with no other option, we called Ford’s Roadside Assistance. Then we waited for them to pick the vehicle up. And waited. And waited. And waited some more, until nearly five hours later the tow truck finally showed up. I didn’t know it then, but that was the first experience we had dealing with Ford’s terrible customer service and it wasn’t going to get any better. Not surprisingly, the culprit turned out to be the very brakes which I had asked them to check. They were seized up and replaced under warranty and I discovered it was an engineering fault that affected all the Freestyles produced up until that date.

Our Freestyle soldered on through 2008 and 2009 with no mechanical maladies, but even with some 40,000 miles under its belt, the fuel economy didn’t improve. Despite mostly highway mileage, we never saw more than a paltry 22 MPG, which lead me to surmise that I could have gotten an eight-cylinder Explorer and been no worse off.

Then, during a scorching July afternoon in 2010, the Freestyle suddenly lunged in the McDonald’s drive-thru like a great white after a seal, nearly rear-ending the poor Prius in front of it. My wife was puzzled and concerned as her foot had been firmly on the brake the entire time. I told her I would look into the “unintended acceleration” and see what I could determine. By this time, Ford had already discontinued the Freestyle under the excuse of poor sales. The truth was, it had class-leading sales in its segment but Ford had uncovered a much more serious engineering defect that it didn’t want being brought to light.

 

THE AMITYVILLE SUV

As I perused the online Freestyle forums in search of an answer to  a problem I had never seen before, a common thread emerged.  With the Freestyle being produced from 2005-2007, initial problems were few and far between during those early years. However, by 2010 more and more complaints began surfacing as these vehicles accumulated age and mileage. Terms such as “lurching” and “surging” were popping up an inordinate amount of times and they seemed to point to an issue with the Freestyle’s fancy drive-by-wire throttle. Basically, the Freestyle uses an electronic signal rather than a conventional cable or spring to tell the computer how much the throttle is open. Granted, this sounds great on paper but things don’t work like that 100% in the real world. It’s also unclear what was causing the throttle body to accrue carbon at such an accelerated rate, but our Freestyle’s throttle body looked like it had been sprayed with sticky black tar when I removed it at 49,000 miles. Furthermore, this wasn’t something that could be blamed on cheap gas—from the day we bought it, we only fueled up with Chevron or Exxon and every oil change I used a bottle of fuel system cleaner. I scrubbed the throttle body as best I could, but a lot of the carbon was literally burned on and no amount of carburetor cleaner or elbow grease was going to remove it. Regardless, the cool fall weather was approaching and the erratic behavior seemed to have stopped.

We naively forgot about the previous year’s problems for six-months until the 2011 Spring temperatures arrived and the frustrating problems returned. Other forum members had reported that a new throttle body fixed their same issue so I broke down and ordered a new $350 throttle body. There had been talk of a new non-heated design, so I was somewhat dismayed when I opened the box and realized that I already had the non-heated throttle body. This was my first hint that maybe a larger issue than just the throttle body was the culprit. Still, I dutifully installed the new unit hoping that it would correct the dangerous behavior.

A week went by before the problems returned and then it was clear that the throttle body was not the main offender. Since it was largely undriveable, we decided to take it to Coastal Ford in Mobile which was a lot closer than Treadwell. Once there, the technician diagnosed the problem as a faulty Mass Air Flow (MAF) Sensor. He claimed that using the free-flowing K&N air filter for the past five years and 50,000 miles had allowed so much grit to come in that it had basically sand-blasted the sensor rendering it unable to provide the correct air/fuel ratio thus causing the unreliable behavior. It certainly sounded plausible, but I wasn’t going to pay them $700 for the parts and labor when I had just shelled out $350 on a new throttle body. Instead, I paid the $100 diagnostic fee and then another $100 for the MAF sensor at AutoZone and replaced it myself.

Amanda was positive that the problem was corrected, but by this point I was still a little skeptical. Despite that, we set off for Spring Break and everything went great until our third day when the surging began again. Apparently angry that we had tried and failed to exorcise the mechanical demon, it returned with a vengeance. The instrument panel lit up like a Christmas tree which threw the Freestyle into a “Fail-Safe” mode and it wouldn’t accelerate above 40 mph. We limped the Freestyle back to Treadwell and picked up a rental car while they examined it.

SECRETS, LIES AND CVTs

The next day I received a call from the technician at Treadwell, and while he couldn’t tell me what the problem was, he did tell me what it needed: A new $7000 transmission.

Naturally, I was a little numb and also angry from the gravity of the statement. We had specifically bought the Freestyle new so we would not have to worry about repairs. But the 3 year/36,000 mile warranty was up and the transmission had died before even its first scheduled maintenance at 60,000. Something just didn’t add up. Granted, I’ve abused a lot of transmissions in my life and never had one fail, some with more than 200,000 miles on them. And here I was to believe that our five year-old Freestyle with just 58,000 miles on it suddenly needed a whole new transmission? That was ridiculous!

Since it was worthless without a transmission, my first thought was to tell Treadwell just to keep it. We still owed Ford Motor Credit almost $7000 on it, so they could have it back and we would just break-even and walk away. But cooler heads prevailed and I paid them $100 for yet another “diagnostic fee” and had it towed to a different Ford dealership, Estabrook in Pascagoula, MS. I had met a local Ford Master Mechanic online and he was willing to take a look it it for me. At this point, my hope was that the transmission could be salvaged and would not require a complete replacement.

Once at Estabrook, they started it up and were amazed to watch the Freestyle continue to lurch and surge when locked in park. Even the service manager came out to witness the eerie phenomenon and volunteered that he had never seen anything like that in his life. Soon thereafter, the technician, Matt, began tearing the transmission down and was optimistic about getting us back on the road. However, after several trouble-shooting phone calls with the actual Ford engineers in Dearborn, Michigan, he wasn’t quite so hopeful.

After sitting at three different Ford dealers, countless hours, and hundreds of dollars later, the problem was finally pinpointed as the Mechatronics unit in the transmission. This computer “brain” of the transmission was on the fritz and during warm weather would overheat sending conflicting signals that would cause the vehicle to react violently. One of the chief selling points of the Freestyle was the Continuously Variable Transmission (CVT) that promised to be quieter, smoother, and more fuel-efficient than a standard automatic transmission. And I’ll admit that the operation was pretty slick too– with an infinitely-adjustable range of gears, you just press the gas and it goes with no bumpy upshifts or downshifts. Given the quick and seamless power, I hit 90 mph during our test drive of a white Freestyle without even trying. But none of that matters if it’s not reliable.

Matt said the good news was that the Mechatronics unit could be replaced for around $1800, but because the problem went undiagnosed so long, there was substantial damage from the gears slamming back and forth. As such, he couldn’t guarantee that it would even work with a new Mechatronics unit in it. He prognosis was to simply replace the whole transmission. I thanked him and left Estabrook $400 lighter, the cost for tearing down the transmission. I then paid $100 to have the Freestyle towed to my personal mechanic’s shop while I looked for a new CVT.

Finally, my luck seemed to be improving as I found a low-mileage CVT from a wrecked Freestyle near Dallas, Texas. The CVT only had 21,000 miles on it and was from a 2007 model so I jumped on it for $2400. Within a couple days it was drop-shipped on my mechanic’s door, and after another $1000 in parts and labor, the Freestyle was on the road again. With that behind me, it was time to turn my attention to how and why the CVT failed with just 58,000 miles on it.

As I began inquiring on the Freestyle message boards, a lot more owners came forward with similar CVT problems. A lucky few were fortunate and had paid for extended warranties that covered their CVTs, but the majority like myself were left to either fix or forfeit their Freestyles. In my defense, I shouldn’t have to pay a couple thousand dollars for an extended warranty on a new vehicle that doesn’t even require the spark plugs or antifreeze changed until 100,000 miles. My father drove cars for 70 years and never had a transmission fail. And given the complexity and scarceness of the CVT, not just any one could work on them. It quickly became evident that there was a genuine problem with the long-term reliability of Ford’s CVT and mine wasn’t just a fluke. Of that camp, two prevailing scenarios emerged: Owners were either experiencing issues with the Mechatronics Unit (like mine) whereby the gears were shredded like metal cole slaw, or a foundry issue that scored the input shaft thereby hand-grenading the internal components after a random amount of miles.

Naturally, Ford absolved themselves of any responsibility for this and have done their very level best to sweep it under the rug. Initially, I don’t believe Ford was aware of the CVT’s quality-control issues when it went on sale in late 2004 as a 2005 model. But as the CVT problems came to the forefront over the next 24 months, Ford attempted to quickly distance themselves from it by dropping the troublesome CVT for a conventional automatic in the 2008 Freestyle (which was strangely renamed the Taurus X). By 2009, Ford was washing its hands of prior Freestyle owners so it could focus on rebadging the Freestyle as the 2011 Explorer, which coincidentally does not have a CVT either. Despite two unsuccessful class-action lawsuits over the CVT, Ford has vehemently denied any wrongdoing with the Freestyle. However, multiple class-action lawsuits over the throttle body have forced Ford to issue a retroactive recall on them. So does that mean I got reimbursed for the $350 throttle body I bought three years ago? Absolutely not! My warranty claim was refused because I replaced the throttle body myself and did not have the procedure done at an authorized dealer.

THE AFTERMATH

Two years and 42,000-miles later, the Freestyle is still chugging along only slightly worse for the wear. Shortly after the CVT was swapped in 2011, the original Continental tires were down to the wear bars and had to be replaced. Regardless, 65,000 on the factory tires is a new record for the Adams’ household so I can’t complain. The same can be said for the original battery which also expired shortly thereafter. I replaced the tires with B.F. Goodrich Touring T/As and the battery with a new Motorcraft Premium unit. With the tires warrantied for 85,000 miles and the battery pro-rated for 8 years, neither should have to be changed under our care again.  

And not surprisingly, a few minor problems have cropped up: The intake manifold gasket has started to leak periodically, dripping hot oil onto the exhaust pipe. It’s too small to notice a visible leak so I’ve declined the $450 to fix it. Another $400 repair is the fuel sender unit in the gas tank. Once or twice a year it sticks, making the gas gauge drop to empty. But since thankfully neither affect the drivability like the CVT did, I’m in no rush to throw more money at them.

However, a current expense has been for the air-conditioning compressor which was blowing only warm air. The dealer quoted us a price of $2,000 for a new compressor and to recharge the system, but I managed to replace the scroll-valve in the compressor for $30 and completely fix the problem. The take-away lesson from this is that the stealership would rather sell you a new part than fix an existing one. 

 

Over the summer we spent a week with a 2013 Chrysler Town & Country minivan driving it 2,500 miles round-trip to Washington D.C. and it gave me a new appreciation for the Freestyle. Over the hilly sections of North Carolina and Virginia, the constant upshifts and downshifts of the Chrysler’s conventional automatic really emphasized how smooth a CVT can be when it’s working properly.

Finally, as I was wrapping this article up, it was brought to my attention that the Freestyle needed new brake pads and rotors, a not-insignificant amount that totaled $500. But unlike the fuel sender unit or intake manifold gasket, it’s not a repair that could be postponed. And with news of the Freestyle’s transmission woes torpedoing resale values (a dealer recently offered us just $3600) it’s worth more to keep it than trade it for such an insulting pittance.   

Looking back over the past 100,000-miles of ownership, it’s a real shame about the rear brakes and CVT which were clearly faulty from the factory. And given the whole CVT ordeal, I’ve understandably lost all faith in Ford as a company, as have the majority of Freestyle customers. After owning a 1986 Bronco II, 1990 Mustang GT and now the Freestyle, this is the end of the road for my loyalty to Ford.

Barber Motorsports Park

I was recently in Birmingham on business, so I took the opportunity to (finally) drop by Barber Motorsports Park. Primarily know for its motorcycle museum, I had declined prior visits since I’m not very keen on two-wheeled vehicles. But, I noticed that according to our GPS, it was only 10 miles from the Grandview Marriott where we were staying. However, according to the website, the admission to the museum for my wife, daughter, and myself was $40 which seemed a little steep. After all, that’s how much we paid the day before at the Birmingham Zoo, and Victoria got to feed the parakeets and ride a camel. So, given my frugal nature, I decided to drive the ten miles there and then determine if I thought it warranted the admission price.

Since you can’t drop a race track in the middle of Birmingham, it had to be built in a more rural setting and getting there can be a little confusing. For instance, you head out of Birmingham on I-20, passing through Irondale. Incidentally, Irondale is home to the Irondale Café which was the inspiration for the popular southern move, Fried Green Tomatoes. In fact, it remains open and still serves roughly 60-70 pounds of fried green tomatoes everyday. But since we had just eaten what seemed like 60-70 pounds of cheesecake at The Cheesecake Factory, we decided to bypass it. Next, we entered the tiny town of Leeds, which is what the official merchandise  lists as the location for Barber Motorsports Park. However, after a couple miles of rural roads, you eventually come across a sign that states that you are entering into Birmingham again. Despite that, I’m happy to admit that all is forgiven once you gaze upon the magnificent glass and steel facility. Set inside an emerald-green forest of Loblolly pines, it looks like a mirage, like discovering a beautiful oasis in the middle of the Sahara. Even my wife, who typically despises cars for anything other than shopping trips, agreed that it looked worthy of the admission price. 

Exit to Eden

George W. Barber Jr. traces his success back to his father who started the dairy business in Alabama during the height of the Great Depression. Over the next few decades, Barber’s business grew and today it’s the oldest dairy in Alabama. I can vividly recall drinking Barber’s Chocolate Milk in grade school and even now, the brand has a 92% recognition rate. This success helped subsidize Barber’s love for motorcycles and in 1988 he began the journey of moving his private collection into a permanent museum. As fate would have it, I actually enjoyed a private viewing of Barber’s collection in 1994 when it was housed in a non-descript building in downtown Birmingham. The occasion was a Ferrari meet and Barber had graciously hosted our dinner there. Later that year, he opened it up to the public before building the new complex in 2003. Even with charitable exemptions, it’s been estimated that Barber invested $54 million of his own personal fortune to fund the park.  

Last year, Barber Motorsports Park celebrated it's tenth anniversary and has quickly developed a reputation as a world-class operation. It’s hosted the Porsche Sport Driving School since opening, was used for filming of the new Need For Speed movie, and was instrumental in developing the new $75,000 Camaro Z/28. In fact, the week before we arrived, the Guinness Book of World Records organization was there, presenting the museum with the award for the world's largest collection of vintage and contemporary motorcycles. That official count was 1,398 but one of the security guards mentioned that there are another “80 to 90” stashed away in the basement. He said plans are to hopefully build another room to display them in the future. It’s hard to believe that with 5 levels in the Museum they don’t have enough room, but a quick look confirms that floor space here is rarer than Tokyo real estate.

We arrived on a Tuesday afternoon and had the entire museum to ourselves except for two other visitors. One was an American, about my age, but of slighter build. We briefly chatted and it was clear he was not very knowledgeable about exotic cars. The other attendee asked me to take his picture in front of one of the motorcycles. He volunteered that he was from Guatemala and that it had taken him 17 days to get here. That’s not surprising since the park drew 270,000 visitors last year and offers exhibits from more than 16 countries.

Aside from all the motorcycles (of which a significant portion are Harley Davidson), it’s clear Barber is also enamored with Lotus. There are no fewer than 60 of these, making the Barber Museum also the world’s largest collection of Lotus race cars. Upon viewing all of them, I lamented to my wife that I certainly wished he had been as passionate about Ferraris. That notwithstanding, there was one Ferrari present, a pristine, silver 1972 Dino 246 GT. The previously unloved Dino has become something of an overnight success story for lucky owners recently. Ferrari purists originally scorned the Dino due to its perceived lack of pedigree, which was punctuated by a lowly six-cylinder and a missing “Ferrari” name plate. However, the past few years have seen the prices skyrocket faster than shares of Telsa stock. Even into the late 1980s, a Dino could be bought for close to its original MSRP of $14,500. But now, concours-quality examples are trading for $500,000, representing one of the best Ferrari investments of all time. 

Barber also has a strong relationship with retired British Formula 1 driver, John Surtees. Surtees holds the unique distinction of being the only person in the world to win a Grand Prix championship on both a motorcycle and a car. As such, there are several showcases devoted to him including a classic Ferrari 158, the vehicle in which he won the F1 World Championship in 1964. Unfortunately, the Ferrari had been shipped to Europe to celebrate the 50th anniversary of the championship, so it was sadly not on display.

The actual 2.38-mile race course and its 16 turns is where the real fun begins. The surrounding 740 acres are as beautifully maintained and manicured as Augusta’s fairway. To that end, the painstaking detail extends to the use of a diamond grinder to smooth the surface of the track after each season ends. This tedious process helps prolong the life of the track as well as add grip for the vehicles that race there. 

The day we visited, the track was closed and security was tight. Did I mention that the guards actually carry firearms? The 1-day Porsche High Performance Driving School costs $1,800 or roughly what a family of three could expect for a week’s stay at Disney World. Those courses offered culminate in a 2-day, $12,000 package more suited for professional racers than weekend amateurs. But it does include track time in a Porsche 911 Turbo and GT3 Cup Car which almost makes it worth it. However, the real highlight of my visit came from watching the new Porsche Macan being exercised on the track. I was told that a group of journalists were in town to do a story on the new Porsche SUV and were spending the day lapping the course in it.

Originally, Porsche’s smaller new SUV was called the “Cajun”, which many thought was an Acadian follow-up to it’s successful Cayenne model. That begged the question if future models might be christened the “Tabasco” or “Coonass”, but it turned out that “Cajun” was a clever portmanteau of “Cayenne” and  “Junior”. Porsche claims that “Macan” was sourced from the Indonesian term for tiger. Unfortunately, their hopes of a dazzling model introduction with real tigers has turned into a Donald Sterling-sized PR nightmare. The hullabaloo began when PETA got wind of Reeves Porsche in Tampa, Florida using three week-old tiger cubs to promote the SUV. Concerned for the cubs’ welfare, PETA contacted Porsche officials who agreed to suspend the whole affair, including an event at Hennessey Porsche in Atlanta with a full-grown tiger.

Regardless, the Macan is a hit in Europe and the Middle East, selling 2,000 units in its first month. It officially goes on sale in North American this summer and seems a perfect fit for the white-hot U.S. crossover market. Based on the Audi Q5, the Macan is the first Porsche to utilize a four-cylinder since the 1995 968. However, Porsche enthusiasts desiring more can opt for a 400hp Turbo model that lives up to the marquee’s legacy.

I’m sure there are not many places in the world that offer a first-rate racing facility in such a remote location. In fact, Barber must have been quite a salesman to convince stoic Porsche execs to open their premier driving school in backwater Leeds. I can only imagine the horror on their German faces when they first landed, smack dab between such redneck afflictions as the giant Bass Pro Shop and Rusty’s Bar-B-Q (Motto: We Smoke The Good Stuff!). They must have thought their plane went down faster than Lynyrd Skynyrd’s and they ended up in Hillbilly Hell. Despite that, the improbable business marriage between American Dairy Magnate and Teutonic Automaker has been wildly successful. The museum is cleaner than some hospitals I’ve visited and the on-track activities make it a Disney World for adults. If you’re in the area, I highly recommend visiting it. The breathtaking inventory alone is worth the price of admission.

 

 

 

Saturn Ion Stage 2 Dyno

It’s been hit or miss for the past year as I’ve been trying to line-up a day to take the Red Line in for an updated dyno reading. My first (and last) dyno was in November 2010, just a few months after I had bought it. Save for a drop-in K&N air filter, it was bone stock and it blew 238 horsepower and 209 torque through the factory catalytic converter. Dyno readings can be a little confusing because they measure horsepower at the wheels. But when a manufacturer quotes their horsepower for a certain model, they always use the power developed at the flywheel. This creates better advertising since flywheel horsepower is before drivetrain losses and is usually about 15% higher. For instance, the new 2015 Subaro WRX STi is advertised as having 305 hp but dynoed at 247 hp. Now, the 15% is a standardized formula and no two engines behave exactly the same, but the 15% correction factor is widely recognized as the most accurate way to calculate the difference between power made at the flywheel and the drive wheels.

With that fuzzy math in place, my stock Red Line produced 273 flywheel hp, some 68 more that the factory estimate of 205. Granted, that is quite a bit more but GM’s guilty of famously underrating engines in the past for insurance reasons, and several other stock Red Lines have dynoed similar numbers. In fact, a dyno chart provided by GM even shows the RL’s power curve peaking around 6000 rpm and declining thereafter. On my last dyno, there is no peak, just a continued upward trajectory until the 6500 rpm redline when the rev-limiter cuts fuel to the engine. The Stage 2 upgrade raises the redline to 7000 rpm allowing the engine to continue making power. Larger injectors (42 lb vs. 34 lb) and a lighter, smaller supercharger pulley (Aluminum 2.9 in. vs. Cast Iron 3.35 in.) supply the necessary fuel and air. Finally, a long-tube header replaces the restrictive exhaust manifold and catalytic converter to help evacuate the spent gases as fast as possible.

But what these mechanical ministrations add up to have been quite a mystery until now. GM claims an increase of 36 hp for the Stage 2 package, but a dyno test by Modified Magazine demonstrated only a gain of 24 hp. And as for the long tube header, Modern Performance tested it and came away with a peak reading of 8 hp.

The Friday before the dyno test was Valentine’s Day, and I was in Wal-Mart buying seven quarts of Mobil 1 so I would have fresh oil for the punishing dyno runs. In front of me was a whole herd of henpecked husbands dutifully buying discounted flowers and cheap chocolates. When it was my turn to checkout, I placed the motor oil on the counter and quipped, “This is what I’m buying my wife for Valentine’s!” as loudly as possible. The elderly sales clerk stopped, looked at me, and then responded, “You can buy that for her, but I sure wouldn’t recommend it!”

With the bipolar weather the South has recently been cursed with, Monday dawned bright and balmy. Naturally, I was hoping for some of the chilly weather we had experienced the week before, since cooler air is more supercharger-friendly but that was not the case. I made the ten minute-drive to Johnson Motorsports (JMS), and in the nearly 35 years I’ve been in Hurley, it remains the sole significant place that I can brag about living close to. Everything else requires a minimum thirty minute drive east, south or west. 

Housed in a non-descript metal building with a barbed-wire fence, JMS is one of the premier aftermarket tuning facilities in the world. Yet, given the unassuming outward appearance you would never know it. The only tip-off is a small sign out front and a steady stream of high-performance cars that pack it’s parking lot. On the day I was there, it was mostly Mustangs, some of which had come from as far away as Louisiana and Tennessee. But the previous week, there was an exotic Ford GT that had been massaged to produce 1100 hp, or roughly double what it originally came with. A retina-searing Chrome Yellow with black racing stripes, it looked like it was going 200 mph just sitting still. Amazingly, it still had the stock clutch and was only now in for a stronger replacement. With an MSRP of $150,000 and just 4,000 built between 2004-2006, it remains the only modern Ford immune to depreciation.

Prior to the dyno runs, the mechanics had some problems getting my car properly lined up. Monty Johnson, the owner, admitted that front wheel-drive cars tend to move around on the dyno and as such, he’s much more comfortable with an 800 hp rear wheel-drive car than a 300 hp front wheel-drive car. Before the first pull, I asked him to observe a 6500 rpm limit so we could see where the air/fuel mixture was. Like all Saturns, the Red Line runs rich from the factory as a safety feature. The stock dyno runs illustrated this when the air/fuel ratio dipped into the 10s during the test. Ideally, you want a stoichiometric air-fuel ratio (14.7:1) off idle and cruising, and a leaner (11.8:1) under wide-open throttle. However, by running an unorthodox 2.9 supercharger pulley, I’m taking a risk that the fuel injectors might not be able to keep up with the demand as the engine reaches it’s 7000 rpm redline. And a lack of adequate fuel at such a stratospheric limit could potentially end with a catastrophic failure (i.e. blown engine). 

When my Saturn was finally ready for the first tentative run, it looked like an open-heart patient. With the hood popped, there were no fewer than three thick cables running from the engine bay: The first was the cable intercepting the tachometer signal, the second was to read the air/fuel mixture and the third one was new, a cable they had to splice-in which could display the supercharger’s boost (PSI).

Monty started my car, commenced giving it gas, and the front wheels began slowly turning the huge drums. He methodically shifted through the first three gears before he flattened the accelerator in fourth. The engine began rising to a crescendo, and it was here that I fully understood how much louder it was without the sound-deadening properties of the cast-iron exhaust manifold and the catalytic converter. It was roaring like Hurricane Isaac and in the small enclosed shed, it sounded akin to a giant circular saw slicing through sheet metal. After a seeming eternity, Monty lifted at 6500 rpm and I stole a glance at the monitor which read 269 hp and 242 tq, increases of 31 hp and 33 tq over stock. He also pointed out that the supercharger had made a maximum boost of 18.5 PSI, quite an improvement over the factory 12 PSI.   

After studying the air/fuel ratio and determining it was safe to press on, Monty was convinced there was more left in the final 500 rpm. Unfortunately, he didn’t allow it any time to cool down and these cars are notorious for heat soak. The second run, Monty took it to an ear-drum shattering 7000 rpm but maximum power dropped to 266 indicating that the extreme temperatures were causing the engine to pull timing on the top-side.

He immediately moved a mobile air conditioner in front of the radiator to pump cooling air into it, and directed a huge fan to blow on the engine. He came back in ten minutes for the final run, even though after four years of driving it, I knew it was no where near cool enough.  

Regardless, he pushed the engine until it bounced off the rev-limiter at 7100 rpm, but it paid off as it spun the rollers to 270 hp (or 310 flywheel) from 20.3 PSI of boost. Personally, I was hoping for 275 at the wheels, and I think that was attainable had the weather been more conducive and it was given enough time to cool down. For instance, the conditions during my first dyno in November 2010 were much drier and cooler. 

That notwithstanding, Monty and the mechanics present agreed that it was still a heroic output for a stock 2.0-liter engine originally designed twelve years ago. Current engines such as the 2.0-liter turbocharged four-cylinder in the Focus ST benefit from new technologies such as direct-injection and variable valve-timing that help boost horsepower. But even tested the same week at JMS, a friend’s tuned 2013 Focus ST only made 241 to the wheels. Monty also mused how far four-cylinders had come with mine as it makes the same horsepower as a 2010 Mustang GT V8, but weighs 1000 lbs less. I also told him not to forget that it gets 30 mpg, a feat no supercar can replicate at any price. In fact, following the three wide-open throttle runs from idle to redline, it still turned in 28 mpg at the next fill up. Click the picture below for the full, record-setting dyno run. 

Caffeine & Octane 2013

I recently spent a week in our nation’s capital, and as Marion Berry, the crack-smoking ex-Mayor once observed, “If you take out the killings, Washington actually has a very very low crime rate.” Fortunately, we didn’t encounter any of that but rather it was the traffic congestion that was so horrendous. Perpetual roadwork on I-95 meant that at one time we spent nearly two hours in traffic to go just 30 miles. Understandably, this can be quite an inconvenience when you have to cover 1000 miles each way.  

While exotic cars were few and far between (I spotted an Aston Martin Vanquish Convertible in Georgetown) I managed to hit the Caffeine & Octane event in Atlanta on the way back. I covered this event last year and it does not disappoint.  The emphasis is on exotics and muscle cars, and where else can you see a circa 1960s Mercury Cougar race a Ferrari F430 and Porsche 911 down I-75?

Caffeine & Octane is held the first Sunday of every month and the weather on that early August morning couldn’t have been nicer. The event officially kicks off at 8 a.m. but I stumbled out of the Marriott behind it at 6:15 when it was still dark and found the parking venue was already half-full. Larry the Cable Guy once joked that even a cheerleader couldn’t arouse him out of bed at 5 a.m. and I feel the same way. But despite dragging in from D.C. just five hours earlier, I was determined not to miss it.

Off in the distance, I could hear the quiet morning being shattered by random bursts of high-pitched acceleration as the cars drew closer. Only owners and enthusiasts with gasoline in their veins are dedicated enough to sacrifice a Sunday morning for this. And at Caffeine & Octane, the mantra “If it’s too loud, you’re too old” doesn’t apply to music but to a car’s exhaust system. Georgia has smog testing but clearly there were a lot of clever individuals who had circumvented it as the air was rife with the sweet smell of race gas and horsepower. 

BEVERLY HILLS CONVERTIBLE: I was hoping for a good Ferrari turnout so I could see some newer models such as the 458 Italia and 599 in the flesh. Unfortunately, the sole new 2013 Ferrari California there was more country-club cruiser than racetrack corner-carver. Introduced in 2008, this 2+2 hardtop convertible resurrects the "California" name used on the 1950s Ferrari 250 GT (a model some may remember from Ferris Bueller’s Day Off). It has been speculated that this vehicle was originally destined for Maserati until high manufacturing costs forced Fiat to rebadge it as a Ferrari. Nevertheless, it represents a number of production firsts for a Ferrari such as direct gasoline injection, a folding metal roof, multi-link rear suspension, a seven-speed dual clutch transmission and a 480hp front-engine V8.      

DOG DAY AFTERNOON: “You Lucky Dog!” takes on a literal meaning as this pit bull looks pensively from the passenger seat of a Porsche 911 GT3 RS. Thankfully, Michael Vick was not driving  but the thought of the dog’s claws digging into the soft Alcantara seats makes baby Jesus cry. The GT3 designation comes from the FIA European race series of the same name and signifies a lightweight model stripped of such luxuries as air-conditioning, rear seats, sunroof and sound deadening materials. The RS for “Racing Sport” lightens it further with a carbon fiber hood and rear wing, ceramic composite brakes and a polycarbonate rear window. The bizarre orange-on-black color scheme also attests to either a really strange fascination with Halloween or a history of bad decisions such as letting a canine ride in a $100,000 sports car.   

STRIKING DISTANCE: I can now cross this off my automotive bucket list as I’ve been wanting to see one since they debuted last fall. However, the Gunmetal Pearl paint and the $5000 racing stripes are not a combination I would have chosen. With “Dodge” noticeably dropped from the name, the 2013 SRT Viper slithers on with a 640hp 6.4-liter V10 and numerous upgrades and improvements over the last generation.  Standard amenities now include electronic stability control, traction control, xenon projector headlamps and LED daytime running lights, turn signals and tail lamps. Despite being slightly slower than the Corvette ZR-1 around a racetrack, the Viper remains the most visually arresting domestic available.

BLACK SUNSHINE: Regardless of sporting the oldest design here, this 2004 Porsche Carrera GT was easily my top pick at this year’s Caffeine & Octane. Like the Viper, it also uses a V10 that generates 612hp and traces its roots back to the 1992 Formula One Footwork team. Strangely, the Carrera GT’s development was stalled in 1999 so Porsche could focus on its new mass-market Cayenne SUV. However, interest in the project and revenue from the Cayenne allowed Porsche to build 1,270 units with 604 of those coming to North America. In tribute to its Le Man heritage, the Carrera GT’s ignition is to the left of the steering wheel and has a wooden gear knob similar to the one in the legendary Porsche 917. 

WEAPON OF MASS DISTRACTION: The highest horsepower award goes to this 2006 Ford Shadrach Mustang GT by Pure Power Motorsports. Surprisingly, this bruiser-blue pony make 900hp from the factory 4.6-liter V8 courtesy of twin water-to-air Precision turbochargers, dual water-to-air intercoolers, a Metco billet turbo plenum and a Kinsler 8-Stack injection system. And keeping the highly-stressed engine in one piece are (among other things) forged aluminum pistons and Manley H-beam connecting rods. It may not be pretty, but it sure is powerful!

DUKW DYNASTY: This was the only vehicle I actually rode in (aside from the 2013 Chrysler Town & Country we rented) but it was faster in the water than anything else here. The DUKW (colloquially known as “Duck”) is part of DC Ducks, a company that offers 90-minute land and sea tours of the city. Originally built after the invasion of Pearl Harbor in 1942, it was the bastard offspring of a British deep water sailor, a Lieutenant from MIT, and a yacht designer. Powered by a GMC 270 cubic-inch six-cylinder, it weighs 6.5 tons and has a top speed of 50 mph on the highway and 6 mph in the water. Unfortunately, ours was missing its original .50-caliber machine gun which is something I would have loved for the traffic jams.