Viper SRT10

The SRT10's acceleration is no surprise. The trip from zero to 60 mph only takes 3.9 seconds, with the quarter-mile blazing by in just 11.7 seconds at 124.8 mph. Yes, there are quicker cars like the Porsche 911 Turbo, various Ferraris and various other exotics. The current, supercharged Corvette ZR1 nearly matches the SRT10 with its 3.9-second 0-60 time and 11.7-second clocking through the quarter-mile, with a slightly better 127 mph trap speed.

But really, nothing else pulls like the mega-displacement Viper SRT10. The sensation of torque is so overwhelming it feels like it's crushing your chest as the car reaches for its terminal velocity. The acceleration doesn't flatten your eyeballs, but instead feels like it's trying to squeeze them right out of your head.

Even in closed-coupe form, the SRT10 is a full-immersion automobile. You're right in the middle of the action with the burly six-speed transmission running the length of your right leg, that side exhaust running the length of your left leg and your feet crammed into a small toe box a few inches from the largest-displacement engine (until recently) available in a production passenger vehicle. You don't just hear the gears in the tranny, you feel them in the entire structure of the car. You don't need a temperature gauge; just wear flip-flops and you can tell how hot the engine is running through your toes.

All the cars that are incrementally faster are monumentally more expensive than the Viper SRT10, and even those can't duplicate its primal mechanical nature.

What's amazing is that, while it only offers two-thirds the power, the old Viper RT/10 delivers pretty much the same wallop.

Frankly, and in many ways to its own credit, the original Viper RT/10 is a kit car. So what's battened down in the latest Viper is really just sort of loose-fit in the RT/10. Start the RT/10 and the whole body seems to ripple over a sea of shims and variable thickness fiberglass. So even today, 400 hp feels fast in the RT/10.

Nearing its 17th birthday and still wearing rock-hard original rubber, the RT/10 still romped to 60 mph in 4.8 seconds and ripped through the quarter-mile in 12.8 seconds at 113 mph. That's better than what many magazines reported for the '92 Viper RT/10 when it first went on sale. And that's still quicker than any 2011 Mustang GT or 2010 Camaro SS that Inside Line has tested. And after you've extracted maximum performance from an old Viper you feel like a driving super-stud.

Short of a racing machine, there aren't any cars more difficult to get in and out of than the latest Viper SRT10 coupe. The roof is low, the doorsill is Mississippi River wide and the whole seating area is narrow. If you're heavier than 200 pounds, it's best to employ a block and tackle. If you're more than 300 pounds, getting in is simply a matter of falling in the right way. But don't try getting out of the car until you've lost at least 100 pounds.

At 98.8 inches the SRT10's wheelbase is 2.6 inches longer than the original RT/10's, but it's still a short-coupled car. The steering is heavy (after all, you're muscling around a pair of 275/35ZR18 Michelin Pilot Sport PS2s) and the sensation of grip seems infinite. Until, that is, you run out of infinite.

Even with its rear 345/30ZR19 Michelins worn down to the consistency of Creamsicles, the SRT10 stuck on the skid pad to a whirling 1.02g and blazed the slalom course at a scalding 73.2 mph. That's an All-World handling performance. But there are limits, and once they've been exceeded the SRT10 is unforgiving. If you have the reflexes of Samuel Hubinette, then you can catch the car and drift it. If you're mortal with a functioning self-preservation gene, you'll just be terrified. And then you'll crash.

The old car's 275/40ZR17 front and 335/35ZR17 rear Michelin XGTs were hard enough to limit the car's stick to just 0.93g on the skid pad and the slalom speed to 67.6 mph. But the challenge in driving the old car is much the same as the new one. There's still heavy steering and the sensation of no limits when there definitely are limits. This, after all, is a car you buy because it bites.