KELSEY MAYS
Living Editor
FORD MUSTANG (Photo courtesy Scott Motte / Staff Photographer)
Take Pacific Coast Highway north one Sunday afternoon, past Malibu’s yuppie bistros and their $11 Reubens, past the sandy bluffs near the county line. The road ducks inland just north of Point Mugu State Park, and the lanes widen among the beginnings of a freeway. Take a farm road off any exit and head out north a couple of miles. This is Camarillo, Calif: The Santa Monica Mountains issue southward, and miles of alfalfa and strawberry fields stretch north and east.
This is where the ponies run.
Pony cars — a designation for certain V-8, rear-wheel-drive American vehicles — have mostly gone extinct since their heyday in decades past. As Challengers, Chevelles and Camaros were pulled from the market, Ford soldiered on with its Mustang. It’s among the final ones of the bunch, and just a few years ago, it was on its last legs.
But Ford strikes back with the 2005 version. Reimagined from the ground up, the new horse bears intentional resemblance to the 1964 original. It’s a powerful machine that allows good, old-fashioned burnouts anytime, anywhere.
Ford gives us two Mustangs: a base model with a 210-horsepower V-6, and a Mustang GT with a 300-horse V-8, with convertible versions available in both trims. My test car was a torch red Mustang GT. I don’t doubt half the radar guns in Los Angeles County have clocked it.
The aluminum 4.6-liter engine turns each bank of cylinders via a single camshaft, pumping three valves per cylinder instead of last year’s two. A variably timed camshaft actuates all three valves, and the whole setup adds 40 horses and 18 pounds-feet of torque to the 2004 Mustang V-8’s 260 and 302, respectively.
It’s serious about getting places fast, and you know the instant you turn the key. It clears its throat with a few hacks, then proclaims life with a deep bellow before tapering into a low rumble. The pedal digs in a fair deal before rewarding drivers with any thrust, and up to seven-tenths down there’s no extraordinary power.
Things change quickly beyond that threshold, however. The V-8 kicks into a high-pitched drone, and the rear wheels wallop the car from behind. There are none of the sounds some high-tech import engines emanate, only a blustery roar — a terrific tune in its own right, mind you. First gear expires at 6,300 rpm and the rush through second begins. My test car’s five-speed manual transmission had fairly tall gears, allowing quite a bit of time in each cog before graduating to the next.
That works for the better because shifting is a chore. The short shifter loafs to each position with longer throws than such a small stick would suggest, and the gate positions aren’t well defined. A deep, heavy clutch adds to the task, and makes clear that though fast, the Mustang is not nimble.
Handling matches that claim. The large, three-spoke steering wheel has a vague feel to it and doesn’t give much feedback. It feels overboosted and requires a bit of turning to change course, a trait that bodes poorly for canyon roads. Body roll is never bad through tight corners, and pushing the throttle gives generous oversteer. But that’s an unnerving maneuver, considering the vehicle’s big-car feel.
Muscle the brake pedal to slow things down, and the four-wheel discs stop the car quickly. The pedal seems noticeably more gradual than last week’s compact RSX coupe, though.
In fact, despite both cars having two doors and costing within $4,000 of each other, the Mustang seems like the antithesis of that RSX. Where the Acura felt compact and lithe, this Ford has an unabashed big-car feel. Even though it roughly equals a Honda Accord coupe in exterior dimensions, everything about the Mustang seems king-size.
The exterior evokes a larger version of the first generation Mustang from 40 years ago. Separate compartments house headlamps on either side of a large, black grille. The Mustang GT gets two driving lights — rivaling the headlamps in size — flanking the grille’s silver horse logo. Flared fenders add to the large-scale appeal, though the 17-inch wheels sit on 235/55 tires, which seem a bit wimpy considering a Nissan Maxima offers 245s.
Inside, the architecture continues the jumbo-size retro look. Twin binnacles house the tachometer and speedometer, and their numbers have a thin font that, though true to the 1964 original, are quite difficult to read. It becomes problematic navigating PCH and trying to stay within a series of jumbled ticks between 40 and 60 on the speedometer.
The optional red leather seats in the GT version are large and comfortable, but too flat to offer any lateral support and too squishy to feel luxurious. The rear bucket seats have large cushions for rear ends and thighs, but the trade-off is a thin cranny between the front seats wherein legs are expected to shove themselves.
It’s all part of a red-tag-special feeling I get whenever I lounge about this cabin. Though styling is fresh, the materials have hard, cheap surfaces. Chrome surrounds on the air vents are really plastic, and they squeak about when you rotate them. The hand brake feels more Fisher Price than Ford. Some items like the window switches and A/C controls are a step in the right direction, but for the most part, general interior quality is not.
But that’s not what the Mustang — or arguably any pony car — is about. No, this car scorns panel fit and curvy-road guile (it has a solid rear axle, for goodness sake) for that special feeling one gets cruising long highways at dusk. Out there, with the stereo belting authentic rock and an elbow hung rearward out the open window, the Mustang becomes part of a perfect day like no other car quite could.
On open roads away from town, a new black Mustang convertible nears in the opposite lane. I get a glimpse of the driver, and he of me, as we pass each other. There’s only a moment to lift my hand in acknowledgement, and he responds thumbs-up.
I can’t help but grin. Welcome back, ponies.
09-22-2005
