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For anyone interested in wild and wacky engine-and-chassis pairings, visit the Motorgeek community Projects subforum. On any given week, there are at least two dozen projects underway involving major engine relocation (a mid-engined V8 Golf, for example), completely custom sheetmetal fabrication and insane power builds. It’s mostly Audi- and VW-related, but some non-VAG stuff does pop in from time to time.

One of my all-time favorite project threads on Motorgeek is dedicated to Hilly’s Audi 4.2l V8 and 6-speed transaxle swap into an S3 Lotus Esprit. Ditching the anemic and temperamental stock 4-cylinder engine, Hilly went for Audi’s all-aluminum unit, in the process creating a sort of proto-twin-turbo V8 Esprit, a homemade version of what the automaker would later do themselves. You can browse the whole build thread here (it’s worth the read); I’ve grabbed a few highlights:

Click here for pictures and video!

Even after they made the switch to shorter V6s and I4s in the mid-late ’90s, the cylinder configuration that’s always been most closely associated with Audi is the inline-5. There’s good reason for it: In spite of the fact that later engines like the B5 RS4‘s 2.7l twin-turbo (among others) have touted higher hp numbers, none have ever really had the character, the distinctive rasp of the old Audi I5.

In the 15 years or so the automaker manufactured the straight-5 layout, Audi offered the engine in a progression of flavors, from a 10-valve, naturally-aspirated SOHC engine mated to a FWD transaxle to the engine in the car featured in this post: The 20-valve, violently-turbocharged DOHC warp drive under the hood of the ’94-’95 Audi RS2 Avant:

Generally considered the ultimate factory incarnation, the pinnacle of Audi’s development of their I5, the RS2’s powerplant (engine code ADU) was at its core a standard Audi 2.2l 20-valve turbo engine shipped off to Porsche, whose engineers basically had their way with it. They replaced the turbocharger, camshafts, fuel injectors, intercooler, intake and exhaust systems with upgraded pieces and reprofiled the engine management. The result was a high-for-the-day 315 hp—with the potential for much, much more—channeled through a 6-speed gearbox. Porsche tuned the rest of the car as well; the suspension, brakes and wheels were all bits from Stuttgart. The outcome? One of the all-time q-ships, a supercar in the guise of a family station wagon.

Needless to say, I lust after this car. It encapsulates everything unique about its manufacturer, from their signature inline-5 and the decision to offer only a wagon body style to the way it puts the power down through Audi’s quattro AWD system. If all that (excepting the inline-5) seems commonplace nowadays, we have Audi to thank for it. Nobody made fire-breathing rocket-sled wagons in the mid-’90s, and the Ingolstadt automaker’s distinctive performance formula made other marques sit up and take notice.

The RS2’s party trick, even through it’s obviously hard on the driveline, is its savage acceleration from a dig, courtesy of the quattro AWD. The listed 0-30 time is a face-deforming 1.5 seconds, with 60 coming 3.3 seconds later. The g-force creation in the clip after the jump below rivals many present-day supercars—and this from a mid-’90s wagon!

Watch the clip!

I absolutely guarantee you that if I had known about any of these cars in the ’80s, a poster of one would have been immediately fixed to my bedroom wall. Forget that white Lamborghini Countach garbage; the customized German and Italian beauties featured on this site are where it’s at.

Or was at. The site is fascinating as a time capsule of ’80s car fashion as much as it is a showcase of the customizers’ talents. Tire and wheel technology being far less advanced than it is today, relatively small-diameter but massively wide tires steamroll underneath grotesquely swollen wide-body conversions. Most colors have a pastel or day-glo quality, and any additional electronics look like they were lifted from a Radio Shack catalog circa 1985.

That said, the highlights of the site’s “collection” are too numerous to list in a concise manner, so I’ll just call out a few. The AMG 300E “Hammer” shown above is noteworthy for the “period” model selected to pose with the car. The Koenig and Gemballa Testarossas arguably improve on the stock car’s lines by getting rid of the side vents’ strakes. The Porsche 930-based Gemballa Avalanche (shown at top) and Mirage are awesome to behold, and the rainbow-pattern on the Buchmann 928 Targa’s seats is a nice touch, as are the location of the stereo controls (!).

As a former BMW E24 6-series owner, I was particularly drawn to the ABC Exclusive E24 convertible. It’s so well done and the car looks so sleek it makes me wonder why BMW didn’t contemplate a factory version.

I love weird engineering. As much as I might be cursing on any given Sunday afternoon leaning over the engine bay of a car featuring said weird engineering, shaking my fist at the gods as I ask why the automaker couldn’t have assembled the car the “normal” way, I’ll always admire manufacturers who march to the beat of their own drum. Whether it’s an all-encompassing philosophy or a random decision here or there, automakers who deviate from conventional wisdom will always command my attention.

Today we embark on a new series of posts highlighting technical esoterica, or unique solutions to engineering challenges in the automotive world. Sometimes there are plausible justifications for off-the-beaten-path decisions automotive engineers make, but sometimes it seems like automakers just want to do things their own way for the sake of being different. Either way, let’s dive in.

The year was 1989. Audi was introducing its top-of-the-line Mercedes- and BMW-fighter, its V8. Built on a stretched version of its 100/200 mid-size chassis, Audi stuffed a brand new, all-aluminum, 3.6l, DOHC 32-valve V8 (oddly enough) under the hood, paired it with its first automatic quattro drivetrain and decked the whole car out in appropriately luxurious trappings. In spite of the added bulk over the run-of-the-mill 100/200, the big V8 moved the car along as a respectable clip. Braking prowess, however, was another area Audi wanted its new luxury flagship to have sporting credentials. But instead of simply giving the V8 larger front brakes, they decided to do something a bit different.

Constrained by a maximum wheel size of 15 inches, Audi enlarged the swept area of the brakes, and thus their potential stopping power, by “flipping” the caliper inside the disc, creating their “UFO” brakes, so called because of the resemblance of the disc carrier and its heat-dissipating holes to a stereotypical alien spacecraft:

This move allowed the diameter of the disc to fill the inside of the road wheel, without having to allow for a caliper positioned on the perimeter of the disc, as is the case with every other disc brake system.

Did it work? By all accounts, it did—when operating as designed, compared to “regular” disc brakes engineered to fit the same 15″ wheel diameter, the UFO brakes provided tremendous bite and resistance to fade. The system gave the V8 (and ’91 200 Turbo quattro, to which it was also fitted) braking capability commensurate with its accelerative abilities.

Did it have downsides? Most definitely. UFO brakes weren’t shared with any other automaker, and failed to benefit from economies of scale in manufacturing; replacement rotors and calipers are quite expensive. Improperly maintained, the rotors can warp; an often-prescribed “solution” involves multiple consecutive panic stops from highway speeds. Allegedly, this can straighten out the rotors and eliminate the shimmy. And perhaps the most significant bummer for those concerned about appearance, especially when exposed by thin-spoke aftermarket wheels, to the uninitiated UFO brakes have the decidedly downmarket appearance of steel wheels.

Regardless of its engineering justifications, disadvantages or even its benefits, Audi’s experiment with UFO brakes appeals for the simple reason that the automaker tried something different. Kudos to them.

Editor’s note: This post is part of an ongoing series spotlighting obscure automotive engineering solutions. Read the other installments here:

• Opel’s Cam-In-Head Engine
• Nivomat Dampers
• The Desmodromic Valve
• Front-Engined AWD Systems
• Mercedes’ Monoblade Wiper
• Twincharging
• The Turbine Car
• The Sleeve Valve
• The Variable-Geometry Turbo
• The Hydraulic Cooling Fan
• The Laycock de Normanville Overdrive

Audi has been allowing limited road testing of their e-tron Spyder diesel-electric hybrid concept car. Arguably a more successful design than that of the coupe version, the car represents a statement by the German automaker about its future both design- and engineering-wise.

Motivated by the combined efforts of a mid-mounted 296 hp twin-turbo diesel V6 driving the rear wheels and a pair of 43 hp electric motors powering the fronts, the e-tron Spyder will scoot from 0-60 mph in a claimed 4.3 seconds. Design-wise, the car seems to take the “Tron” part of “e-tron” name quite literally in its retro-futurism. Perhaps more than any other concept car, the e-tron embodies what we thought “cars of the future” would look like from the vantage point of the mid-’80s. It’s a compelling amalgam of the retro and forward-looking, blended so completely that specific cues that connect with either theme are difficult to pick out. The overall effect, though, resonates emotionally by tapping into a kind of nostalgia at the same time it points the way forward. Put another way, the e-tron Spyder at once looks like concept cars we’ve seen before as well as cars we’ll see in the future. It’s a fascinating effect.

In addition to giving automotive journalists restricted wheel time, Audi provides a video of the car in action. It’s well-made, and worth viewing.

Click on the jump to watch.

I can’t shake this car. It’s funny that as much as I imagine myself on some pointless quest for encyclopedic knowledge of obscure-yet-cool cars from the past 50 years, this one didn’t occur to me at all… At least until a would-be trader suggested it.

I’ve always been an Audi fan. To me, they’ve always represented the yin to BMW and Merc’s yang, the Apple to their collective Microsoft, the scrappy underdog to their conventional dominance; in other words, a concentration of automotive non-conformist cool. And since (right or wrong) I see myself as something of a non-conformist, the brand complements my self-image in exemplary fashion. BMW in particular may be great objectively, but Audi has always held all the cards when it came to the subjectives. Maybe it’s Audi’s deliberate differentiation from their rivals (AWD vs. RWD, 5 cylinders vs. 6, etc), maybe it has something to do with their perennially tasteful design, or maybe it’s the fact they’re not the self-evident choice—whatever the case, they possess some kind of subatomic pull I haven’t quite been able to identify the cause for.

The car featured in this post, the one-year-only 1991 Audi 200 Turbo quattro powered by the 20-valve 3B engine, represents something of a proto-Audi S-car, an S6 before there was an S-series. After years of making do with an outdated 10-valve turbo engine, Audi finally stuffed their newest motive creation under the hood…only to promptly update—and uglify—the bodystyle the following year to create the original S4. The ’91 Audi 200q20v, as it’s known, represents something of a unique point in the development of an already-unique automaker, and that exclusivity elevates it to yet another plane of cool.

All that said, it wasn’t really on my radar until a little over a year ago, when I had finally decided to sell the BMW 635. I won’t retell the story except to say the Audi definitely burst out of nowhere onto my short list for a BMW replacement. When the would-be trader emerged from the woodwork and offered his 200, I was a bit embarrassed I hadn’t consider the car a possibility before then.

And when my mind wanders and I contemplate a replacement for the car that actually did take the 635’s place—my ’95 525i—I invariably return to the 200q20v. As a purely academic exercise, then, let’s do something of a brain dump and compare the respective advantages of my current 525i and a 200q20v.

525i pros:

• Chassis balance. The Audi can’t hold a candle to the BMW’s 50/50 weight distribution and downright balletic movement through the twisties. The car rotates effortlessly around its midpoint and just dances sure-footedly through the corners. It’s utterly fluid and a joy to drive.
• 6-cylinder engine. I’ve always had a fondness for this engine configuration, and the BMW’s engine is a excellent example of the type: Smooth, torque-y (for 2.5l, at least), linear in operation.
• Mechanical simplicity. Compared to the Audi, the BMW has one diff instead of three, two axle shafts versus four and a much simpler naturally-aspirated engine contrasting with the Audi’s turbocharged complexity. Fewer things to break, and fewer elements to get in the way of power transmission to the pavement.
• Fuel economy. Dovetailing with the last advantage, a major benefit of the BMW’s simplicity is an exceedingly efficient drivetrain which allows the car to deliver 26 mpg in mixed driving on premium fuel. Need I remind you, this is a 16-year-old midsize luxury sedan we’re talking about. Remarkable.

And the Audi’s advantages:

• Turbocharged power. Eminently upgradeable, completely intoxicating. There’s no substitute for boost, especially from Audi’s modern-era 20-valve engine.
• Tidier styling. Not everyone will go there with me, and I’ll concede that overall, both cars are equally handsome, but Audi possesses an discreet, tucked-in, buttoned-down yet mechanically-compact aura I love. It manages to perfectly assume its sleeper status without looking at all homely.
• Beautiful interior. Nobody excels at interior design like Audi, and the 200’s cabin is a paragon of ergonomic and visual purity. It easily trumps the BMW’s bulky, awkward dash design.
• Rarity. Made for only one year (but sharing its mechanical bits with Audis before and after), the 200q20v has it all over the 525i, made in copious numbers for 7 years.
• The intangibles. Much as sports pundits like to discuss momentum and other contextual factors when stacking up two teams in anticipation of a big showdown, the Audi, in my mind, claims just about every non-rational accolade I can think of. At the end of the day, it just relfects to my self-image better than the BMW and goodness help me—it’s just cooler. It’s not the obvious choice and it just happens to be an excellent car, qualities that, among others, manage to keep the 200q20v front-and-center in my mind.

Car and Driver is reporting that reliable sources confirm the hybrid version of the upcoming A6 is a lock for the US.

Now, my first impulse is to gloss over the mechanical details in favor of raving about the updated design which, to be sure, is drop dead gorgeous. No other automaker creates cars as stunningly tasteful as Audi, the presence of which quality is a sure-fire indicator the styling will age well. Stack any Audi of the past 10 years next to its main competition at the time, and chances are the Audi’s looks will still exude a freshness and modernity when compared to its increasingly dated-looking rivals. Like a well-tailored suit, Audis never go out of style. Especially as BMW styling has gotten more fanciful and experimental, their competition from Ingolstadt has taken over the Bavarian automaker’s role of bringing definite, rational and graceful German styling to the masses.

Having indeed given free rein to my first impulse and discussed the new A6 Hybrid’s looks up front, it will be said that there’s nothing revolutionary about the car’s powertrain configuration. As in most other hybrids, a 4-cylinder (turbocharged in this case) gasoline engine and electric motor cooperate and deliver 245 hp and 354 lb-ft of torque, and return 37 mpg. Pretty standard, and might I add, developed without taxpayer mandates or subsidies (*cough*ChevyVolt*cough*). Just goes to show that if the car is successful (and there’s no reason to believe it won’t be—just look at it), it will reinforce the notion that it is possible to build alluring alternative-propulsion cars without having to “stack the deck,” courtesy of John Q. Public.

Even if, for some unfortunate reason, the A6 Hybrid tanks, it will still, while it lives, lay claim to the title of the most stylish hybrid on the market. But being an Audi, you wouldn’t expect anything less.

After all my tirades and philippics this week, this Saturday being sort of gray, drippy and reflective like it is, I thought it might be worthwhile, for a change, to survey the automotive landscape and dwell on some unequivocally good developments.

The Ford Mustang. Good golly, they got this one right. As has been observed, it’s the best looking car Ford has made in years. They’ve upgraded the interior materials, given it a wonderful pair of engines in the V6 and V8, tamed the live rear axle to the point where the car is a bona fide racetrack hero, and really honed the car’s details, like the particularly-tasty sequential rear turn signals. Even if the car isn’t single-handedly saving Ford’s bacon the way the minivan did for Chrysler in the ’80s, I’m convinced Ford is hugely benefiting, tangibly in terms of sales, and intangibly in terms of the halo effect, from the Mustang. No one can deny that the essential goodness of the car has given the automaker a massive boost in these economic doldrums.

Audi’s new design direction. Oh yes. Ever since their B7 A4 led the automaker’s model range, somewhat awkwardly, to adopt a deep-grille fascia, I’d hoped it was a “transitional model” and that the company’s stylists would eventually smooth out and integrate that feature a little better. The B8 A4/S4 showed the first glimpse of that hope fulfilled, and with the upcoming arrival of the revised A5 and S5, the deep grille has fully matured, blending effortlessly into the cars lines, owing primarily to the addition of a small angle in its upper corners. Audi has come from behind in the ’90s to become the German Jaguar, leaping from one aesthetic peak to the next with their trend-setting, perfectly-penned interior and exterior design.

The Cadillac CTS-V Wagon. After a too-long series of Euro-style luxury car flops, as much as I have a bone to pick with The General’s overall operations, it’s still somewhat gratifying to see one of their divisions get a car so absolutely right. All the goodies they shunned for years are there at last: 6-speed manual, RWD, excellent handling and a wagon body, topped with a generous helping of good ol’ American pushrod V8 power. It’s been a long, circuitous route, and we enthusiasts have been mystified for years by Cadillac’s dogged refusal to adopt the formula (manual, RWD, handling) that would have finally put them in the game vis-a-vis their foreign competition, but it’s nice to see them finally coming around, and how. Now watch GM ax their most promising car in years, just like they have so many times before. CTS-V wagon, mark my words: Your days are numbered.

I did my darndest to come back over to the Light Side. No one can accuse me of not giving it my best shot.

To a typical German car enthusiast, for reasons hidden in the annals of the history of automotive fandom, BMW represent “the Dark Side.” Conversely, their counterparts in Ingolstadt—Audi—represent the “the Light Side.” No idea how the appellations came about, or for that matter, where the third pillar of the German triumvirate, Mercedes, falls along that spectrum (Gray side? Shadow side?).

With that in mind, and to continue the metaphor, I’d been an avid disciple of the Light Side for years. Audi has always been a champion of lovely, understated, beautifully-executed car design, so as a designer, they’d always had a place in my heart that way. Also, they represented the “alternative” to the Big Two of Mercedes and BMW, and I kind of liked rooting for the underdog. I owned an ’86 Audi 4000 quattro for several years, and while the car did have its shortcomings, overall, it was very good to me, and something handsome, unique and fun to drive.

It was with some apprehension, then, that in the summer of ’09, I descended into the Dark Side with my first BMW purchase, the ’86 635CSi. It was kind of a rushed purchase decision, something which did nothing to quell the feeling that I wasn’t quite sure what I was in for. Any car buff knows BMW makes excellent cars, but the “BMW sea” is a big one, and can be intimidating to wade into.

The car was superb in all respects. I owned it for 8 months and enjoyed every minute of my time with it. It was fun to drive, hustled beautifully for such a big machine, the big M30 six made a wonderful sound as it spooled toward redline, and the car had more character in one fender crease than a post-’00 car has in the entirety of its sheetmetal.

But there were some issues. The back seats were cumbersome to get into, a problem as our kids were getting older and bigger. I always felt guilty relegating such an obvious classic to daily driver duty, knowing that I’d probably never be able to give it the care and feeding it deserved (and we didn’t have the funds or space at that point to buy a third car to relieve the BMW of its daily responsibilities). The biggest problem for me, though, was the potential for rust. BMW’s rustproofing was notoriously terrible until the mid/late ’80s, and I was on pins and needles every time I had to drive the car in the snow, slush, or even rain, worried that I was ruining a pristine rust-free example of the type.

I hemmed and hawed for several months before finally coming to a decision to let the car go, in favor of something with four doors, better suited to daily duty, and with better rustproofing. Of course, I still had some requirements: The car needed to have a stickshift, if at all possible, be rear- or all-wheel-drive, and be somewhat interesting.

It was a great opportunity for me to acquire an Audi, and return to the Light Side, even if I didn’t know what particular model of Audi I wanted. I posted “want to trade” ads on a few boards, and to my surprise, not one but two guys, with nearly identical cars, contacted me, interested in trading. They were both Pearl White Audi 200 turbo quattro sedans:

Tidy, fleet-looking, well-proportioned looks, a great interior, stickshift, AWD and Audi’s 5-cyl with a turbo attached. All the goodies were there. My wife hates white cars, but I had sort of talked her into the idea, given the cars’ advantages for our family.

So why didn’t the trades work out? One would-be trader backed out, and the other’s car just didn’t measure up to my BMW in terms of value; it needed some suspension work, the headliner was sagging, and the engine bay and undercarriage weren’t well-kept. So I never could bring myself to commit to a trade.

Fortunately, in the midst of my negotiations, my current car popped up for sale, and I decided to purchase it instead. It fits all my requirements except, I’m sad to say, being somewhat interesting. For me, in spite of the fact that my BMW E34 probably beats the pants off the Audi dynamically, is stickshift, RWD and all the rest, it just doesn’t have that pull, that cachet… It’s the obvious choice, the mainstream choice, the boring arena rocker when you’d rather listen to the interesting indie band. I don’t want it to sound like I’m complaining about my current ride; I’m not—it’s a brilliant car. But one day, I would like to get my hands on a big Audi sedan, and return to the Light Side.

Editor’s note: This post is part of an ongoing series relating stories of cars I almost acquired, whether though purchase or trade. Read the other installments here:

• 1991 Audi 200 20v Turbo quattro Avant
• 1984 Mazda RX-7 GSL-SE
• 1990 Mercedes-Benz 420SEL
• 1982 BMW 628CSi
• 1991 Volvo 780 Bertone
• 1969 Plymouth Sport Fury
• 1975 Opel Manta