On Wheels by Brooks Peterson

Saturday, September 16, 2000

New Mustang maintains its classic image

The evidence is everywhere around us. We are besotted with great hulking sport utes; we are delirious about retro stuff like the Chrysler PT Cruiser and the soon-to-arrive two-seater Thunderbird; we are smitten with (OK: in some cases, resigned to) roomy, endlessly accommodating minivans; and we dream gaudy dreams of someday being able to afford one of those endlessly seductive high-buck sport sedans - Beamers, Benzes, Lexii and on and on . . .
   But isn't it time we finally confronted our dirty little secret? While we profess to be - indeed, even convince ourselves that we are - enthralled with all this trendy, techy stuff, there is deep within every one of us (with the possible exception of Ralph Nader and Clarence Ditlow) an irresponsible, anarchic wastrel who responds to the primal promptings of vehicles that are as sophisticated as an anvil and as cutting-edge as that huge funky sword wielded to such good effect by Arnold - oops, Conan - the Barbarian.

Ford Mustang GT Base price: $25,365 Price as tested: $28,920 Drivetrain: Single-overhead-cam fuel-injected 4.6-liter V-8, 260 hp; four-speed automatic-overdrive transmission Brakes: Front and rear discs, power-assisted, with optional traction control package EPA mileage: 17 city/24 highway Web site: www.ford.com

   And that, children, is why - even with all manner of intelligent, efficient transport available (some of it even affordable) - so many of us have never fallen out of love with cars like the Mustang GT.
   As much an icon as a means of transportation, the Mustang, particularly in its sportin', V-8-powered iterations, is about far more than just getting us from here to there. It's about who we are - and it's an absolutely compelling argument for remaining who we are.
   Does all this sound a little, well, over the top? So what? This is an over-the-top country - or it used to be.
   The Mustang GT is about many things. Most of all, though, it is about music. No, it is music. Particularly if you're prosperous enough to cough up the major premium (yow!) for the convertible: Wait for a cool evening, then drop the top on that baby, fire it up, and just . . . listen.
   That 4.6-liter V-8 actually offers some high tech of its own, with that overhead-cam arrangement - but it's OK: Somehow, Ford has seen to it that the 4.6 puts out an exhaust note every bit as intoxicating as the classic note produced by the beloved 5-liter pushrod V-8 it replaced a few years ago.
   And it makes power, children. Serious power. Two hundred sixty horses, to be precise, which narrows (but does not eliminate) the horsepower gap between the 'Stang and its Camaro/Firebird competition.
   But who cares if that Camaro edges you in the quarter-mile? You're in the ponycar America loved first. And you've got plenty of company: Mustangs, the last I heard, were outselling GM's output of Camaros and Firebirds combined. Like me, you may still be having a little trouble getting used to the styling tweaks the Mustang underwent in the previous model year. The blending of swoopiness and angularity that works so well in such FoMoCo rides as the Mercury Cougar and the Ford Focus seem a bit at cross purposes in the redone 'Stang.
   On the other hand, there's that blessed extra inch or so of legroom that Ford wedged in for the driver - just enough, finally, to make the car genuinely comfortable for me. (Back seat riders? What a kidder you are. Forget it. Consider that space an elegantly upholstered package shelf.)
   The virtue of a five-speed
   As you'd expect, with all that motivation the GT steps out right smartly. And with yet another round of massaging for the Paleolithic live-axle rear suspension, the Mustang doesn't get totally discombobulated on rough surfaces. (If that's a major concern, of course, you can always move up to the pricier Mustang Cobra - the first example of the breed ever to offer independent rear suspension.) Big, gummy tires ensure excellent adhesion, and the handling's about as tenacious as you have any right to expect it to be: Before you approach the limit, your tires will have signaled that it just might be wise to back off.
   Our tester was afflicted - er, equipped - with an automatic transmission. About that . . . can we be honest here? If an automatic is the price Ford must pay to sell these road rockets to the shiftless masses, then so be it. But hear me, Dearborn: Never, never, never deprive us of the option of a good manual box for this vehicle. An automatic-equipped Mustang GT is better than no Mustang GT. Ah, but a GT with the five-speed - it's like the difference between meatloaf and Chateaubriand.
   Amenities-wise, there's good news and not-so-good news. The convertible top, you should know, is a genuinely impressive piece of work: All you go is pop a couple of latches and punch a button. The top's a model of smoothness and swiftness in stowing itself away. (Though you do have to attach a tonneau, if you're a stickler for that sort of a thing: no disappearing beneath a metal hatch.)
   The few quibbles
   The accommodations are difficult to fault - but I'll try. Actually, the only grating note is the radio: It puts out the kind of boomy, deep-throated music you need in such a car, but it's still afflicted with the flat-face design that FoMoCo embraced years back and has managed to yank from most of its vehicles by now. You can live with it, granted - but every now and again you're seized by Big Round Knob Tristesse.
   My only other quibble would be with the rather bizarre hue our tester wore: Sunburst Gold Clearcoat, it was. Occupying the territory between champagne and gold, it was . . . different.
   Then again, when you're driving, you won't be looking at it, will you? You'll be movin' on down the highway, dividing your attention between the rumble of the pipes and the music of the spheres. And that's a fine place to be.
  
  

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