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Assuming the mantle previously borne by the Superlight R500 as the fastest road-going Caterham model, the British kit-car manufacturer’s new 620R represents another volley in the escalating track-day car wars.

The only logical response to such salvos as the Ariel Atom 500 and the KTM X-Bow, the 620R’s formula is simple: Retain the lightness and simplicity of the old car, but inject even more horsepower to maintain its competitive edge. Left Lane reports:

[T]he 620R is powered by a 2.0-liter Ford-sourced Duratec engine that sends 311 horsepower and 219 lb-ft. of torque to the rear wheels via a ZF-built six-speed sequential gearbox and a limited-slip differential. The sprint from zero to 62 mph takes 2.8 seconds, and top speed is electronically limited to 155 mph.

In addition to the aforementioned power increase and a few new bits and bobs, it’s nice to know that in the midst of all the escalating lunacy, “Caterham ensures that it has performed all of the necessary brake, chassis and suspension modifications to keep the power in check.” In other words, they seem to have an understanding somewhat lost on or ignored by other manufacturers (e.g. Mercedes) that if you turn your car’s engine “up to 11,” that power must remain accessible and manageable for there to be any point to the exercise. That explicit commitment is what keeps the automaker’s offerings at the top of my must-drive bucket list.

Image credits: autoblog.com, autoevolution.com

Came across this curiosity in the latest issue of Bimmer.

Created by German tuning house MKO, the so-called CS M5 grafts an E9 coupe onto an E39 M5 floorpan and suspension and adds the M5’s engine, 6-speed manual transmission and much of its interior as well. The resulting car combines arguably the loveliest BMW body with the most coveted M-car’s running gear.

Should be a no-brainer, right? BMW perfection? Well…yes, if you can overlook the loss of the E9 coupe’s vintage Big Six’s character, the jarring effect the modern dash and seats have on the interior and the odd decision to keep the M5’s wheels instead of fitting something a bit more classic-looking.

It feels like the definitive merger of analog and digital. What do you think? Impressive, yes, but is it desirable?

Image credits: bimmer-mag.com

The 2014 Cayman

The 2014 Panamera

It’s no secret I consider the Porsche Panamera one of the ugliest vehicles available today. In a recent post on Porsche’s much-missed 928, I pointed out Porsche’s reputation for taking what some would consider a less-than-ideal design and persisting with it, improving to the point of excellence:

It’s this resolve that gives me hope that the automaker will refine the technically peerless but aesthetically hideous Panamera to the point where I can actually stand to look at it.

However, when placed side-by-side with a rear view of the Panamera, the brand-new 2nd-generation Cayman’s design seems to take some visual cues from the supersedan. Rather than backing away from the Panamera’s much-maligned squatting, hunchbacked proportions, Porsche actually seems to be doubling down, expanding that visual feature to include at least one more model in its range.

The 2011 Cayman R

At this point, I would normally just throw up my hands and move on…except that the 1st-generation Cayman is a stunning vehicle. Shown above, with the graceful, non-concave integration of the rear deck and fenders, the 1st-gen Cayman becomes more than just “a Boxster with a roof,” achieving a level of visual cohesiveness and purity rare for a hardtop derived from a convertible. The 1st gen looks lean, muscular and lithe where its successor appears slab-sided, bathtub-ish and awkward.

If Porsche applies the same rear-end treatment to a third model, is it officially a trend? Regardless, let’s hope their better aesthetic angels wave them off before we see another example of this unfortunate design direction.

Image credits: netcarshow.com

I used to look down my nose at this engine configuration.

Sure, my opinion of them was colored by my thoughts concerning the perennial American attachment to big whacking pushrod lumps (which are certainly effective, done correctly), but I was wrong to let my views on the evergreen Small Block Chevy engine taint my perception of V8s in general. There’s a reason many more automakers besides the Big Three cleave to or have gravitated toward the configuration.

Click the image to enlarge.

I’ve always been an inline-six and rotary engine buff. I’ve been fortunate enough to have owned a few Mazda rotaries and a number of inline sixes from a variety of manufacturers (Nissan L24, Toyota 7M and 1JZ, BMW M30 and M50), so my predilection for those configurations’ inherent smoothness and refinement has been cemented for ages. I sneered at the V8’s less-than-optimal internal geometry that meant it could never be as naturally smooth as a fully-counterweighted inline-six. I adopted a kind of snobbish engineering puritanism.

But I’m happy to report that my month-and-a-half of life with my 1995 540i’s 4.0l M60 V8 (shown above) has helped me see the light. It’s a cross-plane design and very nearly as smooth as my old 525’s M50 in the upper rev range. The additional two power-pulses per cycle contribute to the feeling of refinement and give it a lovely noise. And it pulls like a freight train. I may not have completely “come to the dark side” and become an avid fan of the pushrod variation—they’re still too ubiquitous, and I like my cams up top, please—but as of this writing, send me my long-delayed V8 Fan Club membership card.

The motor racing community lost an icon on Tuesday.

No, not a driver or a team—a tree. The slowest corner on the Virgina International Raceway (VIR) circuit, named for the massive oak tree it passes around, lost its namesake. According to the official report from VIR management, the tree fell of natural causes, splitting near the base.

Being somewhat local to the circuit (it’s 1.5 hours away in Danville, VA), I initially thought a gust of wind must’ve toppled the tree; there had been some fairly severe windstorms in the area in the past month, so I was mildly surprised to read there was no warning; the course’s caretakers apparently arrived at work Tuesday morning to find the tree in pieces.

Oak Tree was at least as iconic as the Corkscrew at Laguna Seca and nearly as renowned as the tunnel at Monaco or Eau Rouge at Spa; VIR won’t be the same without it. From the circuit’s initial opening in 1957 through its closing in 1974, then from its reopening in 2000 through the present day, Oak Tree had been a fixture of the track; its most recognizable feature, to the point where it made it way onto VIR’s official logo. I’m glad I got to drive around it one last time with my son a month and a half ago. It will be greatly missed.

Image credit: nsxpo2013.com

The more things change…

At the time it was introduced for the 1993 model year, the major complaint directed at the Infiniti J30 was its puny rear seat volume. One glance at the car reveals its manufacturer obviously prioritized style over function, what with its delicately tapered haunches and miniscule trunk.

Nowadays the “four-door coupe” styling trend, sparked by the introduction of the first-generation Mercedes CLS, is going strong. We’ve seen a whole slew of imitators from the Audi A7 to the BMW 6-Series Gran Coupe and even the Volkswagen CC, and although their barely-usable rear seat space is mentioned, it’s hardly a deal-breaker the way it seemed to be for the unloved J30.

So why didn’t the J30 catch on? Did luxury car buyers overwhelmingly prioritize interior space over style in the mid-’90s in a way they no longer do? Was the buying public so soured on Infiniti’s awful marketing campaign for the brand flagship Q45 (notoriously not even showing images of the car) that the bad vibes overtook its smaller stablemate as well?

Or perhaps the car wasn’t radical enough? For all its swoopy styling, the J30 retains the overall proportions of a traditional 4-door in the way the later CLS doesn’t, not to mention the fact that the Mercedes car has a great whacking V8 under the hood to prove it’s got the moves to back up its looks. The J30, by contrast, was fitted with a 210-hp variant of Nissan’s VG 3.0l V6 engine—a pleasant enough engine, and routing power to the rear wheels no less, but nothing to write home about.

So, combine styling that was just a touch too conservative, merely adequate power and dynamic ability as well as the still-uncertain prestige of a luxury brand still finding its footing in the marketplace, and the reasons behind the J30’s failure to gain a foothold in its target market become clearer.

Still, the fact remains that it is RWD, does have quite a nice engine and is very pretty to behold—those three qualities explain my enduring soft spot for the J30. And I do think Infiniti should receive more credit for creating the first luxury sedan with a styling/function priority tradeoff closely in line with that of the more recent crop of fashion-forward four-doors.

Image credits: edmunds.com, carsnative.com, theautochannel.com

Just leave ’em alone.

Many (most?) efforts by a car’s owner to “improve” its styling end in (visual) disaster. Giving credence to the notion that yes, the car’s designers knew what they were doing, here’s an assortment of cars that came from the factory with wheels especially well-designed and matched to the lines of the cars’ sheetmetal.

E39 BMW 530i Sport. Many bodystyles of BMW of have been fitted with a variety of gorgeous wheels, but the Style 42s (the automaker’s internal designation) that came with the later E39 530i Sport take the top prize. Delicate, detailed, stunning, perfect.

C5 Audi RS6. Audi gave its range-topping early-2000s siege weapon these lovely shoes. Simple but imposing, the lack of a lip lightens the visual weight of the wheels’ design at the same time the turbine-inspired shape, together with the flared fenders, creates the impression of relentless thrust.

1995-1999 Nissan Maxima. I really like what Nissan did here. The spokes are thick and strong, but angled to reflect rotational movement, and they’re finished in natural brushed aluminum, always a good choice.

Porsche 993. Porsche equipped its last great air-cooled machine with these steamrollers. They’re awesomely wide, and the twisted-spoke design makes it look like the engine’s torque is about to wrench the hub clean off the rim. Love.

1961-1974 Jaguar E-Type. And since no list of hot factory wheels is complete without including classic British sports cars’ cleaning nightmares, here’s the most iconic car to wear them. No E-Type, Triumph, Austin-Healey or MG (among others) looks quite right without a set of wire wheels. Don’t touch.

Image credits: shiftmotors.com, edmunds.com, netcarshow.com

If my racing tech represents “arrested development” (the way that of all major series except endurance racing), I’d rather go all out. In other words, if I can’t geek out on technological breakthroughs in the racing machines that interest me for the simple reason that the technology in my 7-year-old minivan is in many ways more advanced, I can at least remain in awe of those who push a specific formula to its complete, utter, ludicrous limits.

Like these guys.

Top Fuel drag racing represents the elephant man corner of motorsports. It’s the freak show. The bearded lady and conjoined twins sit in the audience, cheering on these cars-in-name-only, distorted out of all resemblance to anything you or I would drive to the grocery store. The machines are designed to do one thing extraordinarily well, do that thing for about 4 seconds, then stop doing that thing. In what other arena of competition, nevermind just motorsports, is the window of opportunity for success so small? All the sound and fury of an entire NASCAR race, compressed into a handful of ear-splitting, pavement-cracking moments. How can I look away?

The tech in particular fascinates me. Sure, it’s not envelope-shattering in the innovative sense, but the amount of attention lavished on every decision combined with the sheer scale of it all, from distributor size to exhaust gas temperature to speeds to decibels to power output… I just can’t help but stand and gawk at it all. The above article does a great job documenting the geeky details of a Top Fuel racer’s engine prep. Check it out!

Image credit: hotrod.com

I’m not arguing that these types of cars are unattractive as a rule, although many of them are. Whatever or not they’re pleasing to the eye, the one common visual quirk is that their design has dated itself very rapidly.

What constitutes a transitional model? They can be tricky to pin down at the time since they necessarily define themselves in part with respect to the models that follow them. That said, the main tip-off that a car’s styling falls into that category is a hesitancy in its design, details that lack conviction, that are neither here nor there. Here are a few examples:

Mercedes W203 C-Class. The proportions are well-executed, but the headlights are a dead giveaway of its transitional model status, being neither totally separate nor together but in a sort of “amoebas dividing” limbo.

Nissan Z31 300ZX. The same goes for the Z31 300ZX. Neither fully exposed nor legitimate pop-ups, the Z31’s headlights reveal a lack of resolve on Nissan’s part, and make the car look far more “’80s” than its contemporaries like the Toyota Supra and Mazda RX-7.

Audi B7 A4. The German automaker’s first entry-level model with their now-signature “deep” grille, the B7 generation’s styling suffered from a rare tentativeness, odd for Audi, whose designs typically bristle with confidence.

Volkswagen CC. The first time I saw a CC in the flesh, I admired VW’s attempt to bring the “four-door coupe” aesthetic down into the family car segment, but I also remember thinking, “That design will look very old in 5 to 10 years.” I still stand by that statement—its rear is afflicted with the same malady as that of the W203’s nose: Free-form blobs of taillights, barely related to any of the car’s other design elements.

Image credits: wikipedia.org, netcarshow.com