Through the windshield the horizon is tilted. Neck muscles strain against G-forces to support the weight of a crash helmet. Senses are bombarded with sounds —the painful scream of tires against asphalt, the belligerent roar of a 289 Ford—and smells; good British leather and traces of gasoline vapor. We are halfway through the Hook, Lime Rock's unforgiving hairpin that is conquered with two carefully chosen apexes or not at all. The black Cobra snorts and bellows against an unseen force as Sam Posey works on the huge wooden steering wheel, correcting minute slides before they become malignant. He shouts over the auditory assault, "No doubt about it, this has the feel of a real racing car—very, very serious."
His description couldn't have been more accurate. The Shelby Cobra was as menacing as its name from the very first. With malice aforethought it attacked and annihilated the Corvettes in SCCA's A/production, and after that taste of blood a coupe-bodied version went on to win its class at Le Mans in 1964. So successful was it as a racer that it was the first car to break Ferrari's hold on the World Manufacturers Championship in the years after that title became based on competition among production automobiles. It is a single purpose car—a powerful, high-winding V-8 in a stark, lightweight English AC chassis—for men who equate truth with speed and agility, and ask for nothing more. Production ceased in 1966 but the Cobra's performance still stands as a high water mark for all to see. It is the yardstick by which all other performance cars must be measured.
Today a yardstick (and a long one at that) is essential if we are to comprehend the improvements Detroit is engineering into its performance cars. The need became obvious this past summer as we previewed the 1970 models. Small cars are being outfitted with big engines—medium size cars have engines that are enormous. Wheels and tires are now as wide as what you would have found on pure racing cars a few years ago, and truly sophisticated handling packages (many with rear anti-sway bars) are standard equipment. The point was forcefully pounded home at the GM proving grounds when we discovered that a Buick GS455 (of all things), loaded down to 4300 pounds with every conceivable comfort option, would still drive circles around an Opel GT, a "sports car," on the handling course. Detroit is building some very athletic automobiles, not just in acceleration but in handling and braking as well. Urged on by our natural curiosity about the sporting side of these devices we set out to ascertain the state of the art in Detroit. Thanks to model proliferation, testing every one of Detroit's super cars is out of the question—it would take about five years for the task. Instead, we would take a sample, one car from each of the three distinct performance car categories, and see how they measured up to the Cobra yardstick. Which cars? Well, there had to be an intermediate sedan because that is what Detroit's super cars have been since the beginning. Chevrolet is fixing to sell a 450-horsepower SS454 Chevelle—the highest advertised horsepower rating in all of Detroit—and that is reason enough that it should be in the test. Walter Mackenzie, a gray-haired veteran of Chevrolet's diplomatic corps, was up for the idea as soon as we phoned him. He remembered the Cobra ("You mean that low, skinny, lightweight thing?") and what it had done to the Corvettes and he wanted just one more chance. Production of the 450-hp Chevelle wasn't scheduled until January—but there were engines and there were cars—it was just a matter of putting the two together. Not to worry—there would be an SS454 Chevelle for the test.
Of course, there had to be a sporty car. These scrappy coupes have hyped up the Trans-Am Series popularity to the point where it threatens to eclipse the Can-Am. Deciding on a representative from this class was more difficult. Eventually, all the big engine versions were dismissed in favor of the 5-11ter. Trans-Am-inspired models because they specialize in carefully tailored overall performance rather than merely dazzling acceleration. We finally settled on the Boss 302 Mustang for the most straightforward of all reasons—we just like to drive it. We've been enchanted by its capabilities since we drove the first prototype in Dearborn (C/D, June '69) and Brock Yates has proven that a mildly modified Boss can be competitive in SCCA regional racing (C/D, January '69) while still remaining streetable. After all of this favorable experience we wanted to see how an absolutely stock Boss ranked on Cobra yardstick.
That left one category to be filled-a category that we feel is the start of a trend. For a long time we've been questioning Detroit's logic in concentrating its performance efforts on the heavy intermediate-size cars when there were lighter models around which could do the same job but with smaller engines and, ultimately, less expense to the customer. Plymouth's junior Road Runner, the Duster 340, is a giant step in this sensible direction. By including a Duster in the test we could get an early reading on the validity of the concept and perhaps even encourage its growth. But in Detroit our motives were not so transparent. Plymouth felt picked upon. Remembering past C/D comparison tests designed to ferret out the most capable car in a given class, Plymouth figured it had been singled out for the booby prize. "What are you guys trying to do? How can a Duster compete against a 454 Chevelle?" The Cobra was obviously beyond comprehension. "Let us bring a Hemi Cuda. That'll show those bastids." But we finally convinced Plymouth that this wasn't the apples-to-pumpkins comparison test that it appeared to be. In fact, it wasn't a comparison test in the conventional sense at all. Rather, it was to be the definitive statement on the whole range of Detroit performance cars, using as reference what most enthusiasts consider to be the world's fastest production car, the Shelby Cobra.
And, of course, we had to have a Cobra. Because it was the 289 that established the Cobra's all conquering reputation we chose that model. The 427 is faster, to be certain, but in reality it only made the Cobra legend burn a bit more brightly. Besides, classifying the big engined brute as a production car is something of a dubious practice since only about 200 of them were built.
