Spannerhead Dot Com

There’s one of these at the house at the end of our road. A white one. I stare at it every time I drive by. Every time I stroll by its house during a walk with the kids, I have half a mind to ask the owner if he’d be interested in selling.

Even with the GT trim line’s 2.2l, 145 hp turbocharged 4-cyl engine, the first-generation Mazda MX-6 was never a screamer. 0-60 time was around 7.5 seconds—respectable for the era, but not necessarily quick. The style, too, was understated almost to the point of anonymity. The fascia in particular has no elements whatsoever that would distinguish it from your average Japanese sedan of the period. And to top it all off, the car was exclusively FWD. So what’s the big deal?

As with many cars I enjoy, what matters are the details, and what’s under the sheet metal. Study the car’s proportions for a minute. Notice the subtle fender flares and shape of the spoiler, among other cues. Remind you of anything? An R32 Skyline, perhaps? The car’s stance radiates a quiet undercurrent of mild aggression I find very appealing.

As nice as the shape is, the core of the first-gen MX-6’s draw are the mechanical bits. As mentioned above, the GT trim line was fitted with a 145 hp turbo’d 4-banger. The horsepower figure may not be much to write home about, but the many owners and enthusiasts feel it may have been underrated, and the torque number stands at a very stout 190 ft-lbs. Not only that, the nucleus of the engine itself served in a number of noteworthy sporting Mazdas, including the 323 GTX cult car and the first-gen Miata, and is well-known to be nearly indestructible, and very responsive to basic mods.

The ’88-’92 MX-6’s real party piece is illustrated above: The 4-wheel steering system. Offered around the world for the majority of the car’s run, but only in North America for the ’89 model year, Mazda’s 4WS system was very close in concept to that of the concurrent Honda Prelude. A computer-controlled steering rack was fitted to the rear wheels with the ability to turn them up to an angle of 5 degrees. The rear wheels turned the opposite direction from the fronts, tightening the turning circle and enhancing maneuverability, up to a vehicle speed of around 22 mph, at which point all four wheels turned the same direction, giving the MX-6 better high-speed stability. A system failure, or routine power down (as in turning the car off) automatically returned the rear wheels to straight ahead. Added weight and complexity, sure, but the car wasn’t that heavy or complex to begin with, it did mitigate some of FWD’s inherent disadvantages, and the cool factor is off the charts. Put all that together, and you have a worthy addition to our parade of notable FWD cars.

Editor’s note: This post is part of an ongoing series highlighting FWD cars I think highly of, in spite of my overwhelming RWD bias. Read the other installments here:

• Peugeot 205 GTI
• B4 Volkswagen Passat
• Lancia Fulvia Coupe
• Acura Vigor
• Mazda Millenia
• Citroën SM
• Fiat Coupé
• ’91-’96 Infiniti G20
• ’91-’94 B13 Nissan Sentra SE-R
• Audi Coupe GT
• Volkswagen Corrado
• Peugeot 405 Mi16
• ’78-’93 Saab 900
• Volvo 850 T-5R
• 5th-generation Honda Prelude
• 1st- and 2nd-generation Volkswagen Scirocco

The post title even rhymes; how about that. In the interest of disseminating good content, I present my list of the seven most enjoyable/significant automotive publications of the past year, the Spannerhead Seven™:

• Ate Up With Motor. My favorite automotive history site, it functions as a kind of one-man crusade to provide the most well-researched, in-depth treatments of obscure, rare and iconic cars. Usually updated a couple of times a month, and not to be missed. Great job, Aaron!
• Car and Driver. A pillar of the automotive media world, Car and Driver‘s reporting and features are reliably sharp, frequently impudent and always interesting.
• Jalopnik. For the vehicular omnivore, Jalopnik covers a wide swath of subjects, reporting on everything from the latest concepts to rumors to happenings on automotive forums to marginally-relevant editorials. Quirky and fun.
• Autoblog. A mainstay of the online automotive press, this site’s opinions are always right on the money, and their motorsport coverage (esp. F1) is top-notch as well.
• Top Gear. An institution among car buffs, Top Gear is the standard by which all (and I do mean all) automotive shows are judged. They’ve lost their way a bit with the ever more elaborate challenges, taking some of the focus away from the cars in favor of the inter-host chemistry, but it’s still far and away the best car show out there.
• Left Lane News. Frequently first with breaking developments in the automotive world, Left Lane provides eminent reporting and commentary on political and car industry-wide happenings.
• Grassroots Motorsports. One of the few tuner magazines out there to actually “get it,” GRM seems to channel the way true car buffs think, and emphasize the modification paths the more sober-minded among us would embark upon with our cars. Less style, more substance.

If you’re new (or not so new) to Spannerhead, do yourself a favor and check out the “Headlights” section at the top of the main page. I hand-pick the articles to post there (it’s not an automated feed) and update it more frequently than the blog itself. Happy new year, all!

I’m beginning this new series fully aware that I’ll be tipping a few of my sacred cows and taking aim at some of my all-time favorite powerplants. Even so, there are situations in which the engineers, although aesthetics certainly aren’t their primary concern, deserve to be called to task for their creations’ complete lack of visual appeal. There’s a saying in aviation circles: “If it looks right, it’ll fly right,” and that maxim could apply broadly to automotive engineering as well in the sense that an attractive, well thought-out engine and bay is usually echoed by the quality of the engine itself. It’s not true in every case, of course—ugly engines can be world-beaters and a lovely pair of cam covers can surmount a turd of a powerplant—but in most cases good looks and good performance are complementary. In any event, let’s dive in.

The early Jaguar V12. So…when the contraption under the hood doesn’t actually look like an engine, you know you’ve got a problem. It’s surely ironic that an automaker renown for creating some of the loveliest shapes on the road also developed this hideous monstrosity, littered with all manner of heat shielding, vacuum lines, linkages and balance tubes. Amazingly, the example shown above (from a Series III E-Type) is one of the more attractive iterations; the engine actually got uglier through the ’70s, utterly buried in a snake pit of first-generation fuel injection vacuum lines and emissions controls. When it ran, the Jaguar V12 was a very good engine, with smooth, lusty power available throughout the rev range, but the messiness of the powerplant’s home hinted at the tacked-on, poorly thought-out nature of its components, and served as a kind of warning for those foolish enough to buy a Jaguar so-equipped.

The PRV V6. The designed-by-committee Peugeot-Renault-Volvo V6 engine is a classic violation of one of the cardinal rules of attractive engine building: Do not mount your peripherals on top of the engine. The air-conditioning compressor on the left side of the bay becomes the focal point instead of the engine itself, which for its part is shoved down and back in the chassis, any potentially attractive aluminum topped by a helping of dashpots and vacuum lines. The engine itself is kind of a nasty brute as well, and powered a number of rather infamous cars, such as the DeLorean DMC-12, Volvo 760 and Dodge Monaco.

The Mazda 12A. I love this engine. Love it. It’s smooth, reliable, light, easy to rebuild, sounds wonderful with the right exhaust system and is blessed with a beautifully linear powerband. That said, I’ll never claim it’s a looker. It commits the same sin as the PRV above in mounting the alternator up high, and sports an ugly round air cleaner as well as a rats nest of vacuum lines. I desperately wish I owned a car motivated by a 12A, but so help me, it’s a visual mess.

Click here to continue with Part II of my series on ugly engines.

No, not the concept car shown above, gamboling through the forests even as it saves them; the actual production vehicle has been spied testing, draped in camouflage.

The Car and Driver post linked to makes a few perceptive observations based on what’s apparent underneath the camo, among them that the concept’s full-length glass doors will be toned down in favor of more conventional openings, and that the proportions and details certainly look more real-world friendly even as the mule retains many of the concept’s more outré elements, such as active aero and butterfly doors.

Any casual Spannerhead reader will be aware of my skepticism toward the current trendiness of alternative propulsion, but in the case of BMW, if they’re going to do this, as it were, they’re doing it well. By sequestering their hyper-efficient “city car” (the i3) and more ambitious foray into hybrid performance (the i8) in their own separate sub-brand—BMW i—the automaker’s uncompromising performance image remains more untarnished than it would otherwise. Note that I didn’t say completely unsullied; the pillars the brand is established on have definitely taken a hit with all the talk of FWD and V6-powered cars, but keeping the new propulsion technology corralled in its own area is step in the right direction. It liberates us BMW loyalists, frees us to actually express interest in the i8 without being tempted to dismiss the whole endeavor out of hat as an unsupportable selling-out of the BMW legacy. I, for one, am eager to see the finished product.

I know that more than anything else, Motor Trend‘s post is kind of an end-of-year throwaway stat compilation. And the editorial staff certainly has enough sense to grasp that qualifying a car’s handling is more than about just the raw numbers. Still, the contrast in criteria between MT‘s “10 Best Handling Cars of 2011” and Car and Driver‘s recent duo of “Best Handling Car in America for Less than $100K” and then “…Less than $40K” is instructive.

In generating their respective assessments, MT relied solely on raw skidpad and track numbers, while C&D, although they used track time as a “tool” in their comparo, treated the numbers as a smaller part of a bigger picture, with additional metrics like steering response, body control and chassis composure factored into their evaluation. In contrast to MT‘s quick-and-dirty establishment of a benchmark for internet racers to bicker over, C&D set themselves the more ambitious goal of trying to qualify the un-quantifiable, of trying to methodically communicate something that’s primarily sensed by the driver, and oftentimes can have far more of an impact on how a car handles than raw capability. Case in point: Anyone who’s ever attended a track day or HPDE will tell you stories of many cars that were slower on paper actually driven faster around the track than more high-caliber racers, simply because the slower cars were more communicative and benign in their subjective feedback to the driver.

The finishing positions of the Corvette Z06 in both the MT and C&D articles provide an extreme example of the exclusivity of objective and subjective handling. According to the numbers, the car is supremely capable, ranking first in MT‘s assessment, but in terms of driver feedback and response, it leaves a lot to be desired, and it comes in sixth out of seventh in the C&D article.

The takeaway from all this is something forum junkies and car buffs in general need to bear in mind when flaunting track times, 1/4 mile trap speeds and braking numbers in online discussions: Your automotive hero may be the performance be-all end-all under the right circumstances, but figures alone don’t seal the deal. No one can prove one car is better than another by simply matching up the data—it’s how a car feels, how it responds, if it makes you smile and feel confident behind the wheel whether it has 90 or 573 hp. As far as I’m concerned, it’s the ability of the car to connect with its driver that separates the truly great from the pretenders, and ensures those that excel in that capacity a loyal following.

Keeping on the Cadillac theme from yesterday, I thought it’d be worthwhile to revisit a classic example of an American automaker at least getting the shape right, even if they got the chassis completely wrong.

Leaving aside the redundant acronym that is the car’s trim line (Seville STS = Seville Seville Touring Sedan), the redesigned ’92 car was a semi-credible effort in Cadillac’s longstanding pursuit of its European rivals. The STS exemplified the uniquely American luxury and performance formula the automaker espoused at the time: Big transverse V8 in the front, FWD, broad-shouldered proportions, relaxed-fit interior and handling. Its girth, softness and inherent weight distribution limitations (not to mention the lack of a manual option) meant that it was no match dynamically for the BMWs and Mercs it was pitted against in magazine comparos—but it did win praise for its looks.

I would agree with their positive assessment. The car is large, no doubt, and the wrong wheel/tire combination can easily make the car look like the bloated pig it kind of is, but… Toned down and tucked in, the creased, tailored sheetmetal and wedge-y profile give the STS’s shape a kind of big-and-tall linebacker-in-a-suit-on-an-NFL-post-game-show elegance. It’s not lithe and svelte, but its proportions suggest a higher ratio of muscle to fat than is common with most luxury cars on this side of the pond. If I could ignore everything about the chassis (except for the 300 hp Northstar’s grunt, natch), it’d be one American sedan I wouldn’t be ashamed to be seen behind the wheel of. Turn the engine 90°, bolt it to a 6-speed, firm up the suspension and sign me up.

Editor’s note: This post is part of an ongoing series featuring cars whose design I find appealing, in contrast to mainstream opinion. Read the other installments here:

• ’89-’91 Oldsmobile Cutlass Supreme Coupe
• ’99-’04 Toyota Solara Coupe
• Mazda CX-7
• ’93-’01 Subaru Impreza
• ’96-’98 Chrysler Sebring Convertible
• ’86-’91 Mazda RX-7
• ’92-’97 Cadillac Seville STS
• ’95-’96 Nissan 240SX
• ’87-’88 Ford Thunderbird
• ’94-’97 Lexus LS400
• Subaru SVX
• ’03-’04 Infiniti M45

Opening in two weeks on January 9, the 2012 Detroit Auto Show promises to be one of the more exciting in recent years. Here are 3 concepts or new car introductions to look out for:

Cadillac ATS. Shown at top in a teaser photo, Cadillac’s long-awaited BMW 3 series fighter is set to be announced with nearly as much fanfare as the Corvette ZR1; that is to say, with “special feature sections” aplenty in every major automotive publication, loads of technical cutaways of the car and soul-searching interviews of every last engineer involved, all thrust forward in a kind of “look what we can do!” quasi-patriotic dog-and-pony show. Color me cynical, but I’d have a lot more respect for many of the products that emanate from GM if each new one wasn’t hailed as the Second Coming in its respective category. I understand they’re hawking their wares, but a little discretion would go a long way, especially for a car intended to compete with one of the all-time great “substance over style” dynasties. In any case, now that the admittedly-nice CTS has grown into a 5 series opponent, a niche previously occupied by the STS, the ATS arrives to fill the void further down in the lineup. As stomach-churning at the marketing machine can be, oftentimes there’s an actual good car underneath the hype, and I’m eager to see what Cadillac has cooked up.

New Honda/Acura NSX Concept. Bandwagoning on the company profile-raising success of the Lexus LFA and Nissan GT-R, Honda will retract the veil ever so slightly on their plans for a resurrection of the much-missed NSX namplate. Teased in Iron Man 2 and the upcoming Avengers movie, Honda looks set to reveal a concept showing basic design and engineering direction, if not a production-ready vehicle. I think I speak for a lot of enthusiasts when I say after well-nigh 10 years of rumors and smoke signals, we’ll take anything.

Lexus Design Concept. Perhaps stung by dual criticisms of the astronomically high price of their excellent LFA and the lukewarm reception of their new “pinched mouth” styling theme, Lexus commissioned their studios in California to whip up a new design direction for their entry-level IS range. I’m optimistic about this for a couple of reasons: One of my all-time favorite Japanese designs, the first-generation Lexus SC coupe, was penned by Toyota’s California facility, and it’s a potential sign Toyota has recognized the oh-so-trendy “tortured fascia” look—sported by at least one car from seemingly every east Asian automaker, from Hyundai to Nissan—is a non-starter. Show us something classically gorgeous, Lexus.

Since most automotive journalists are likely hunkered down in their beds, visions of F10 BMW M5s and 2013 GT500s dancing in their heads, it’s been an exceptionally slow news day. What better time, then, to pen a little self-serving look back at the six months I’ve been blogging?

It’s been an adjustment, to say the least. Depending on a number of factors—how excited I am about a particular subject, how familiar I am with said subject, how much time I spend conjuring a topic, how quickly I’m able to find and format images, etc—writing a post can take anywhere from 30 minutes to a couple of hours, and shoehorning that time into often-hectic family life can be difficult. Fortunately, I’ve been able to generate a steady stream of content beyond the initial pent-up backlog of automotive opinions built up over the years prior to the blog. The various series I’ve started help, as does the odd good news day here and there. It may be 10:30 in the evening, and I may have had no clue what to write about up until then, but somehow, inspiration comes, even if I just phone it in for that day (and you all have been privy to many of those posts).

I’m incredibly grateful for my readership, as limited as it is. I have to admit the bulk of the site’s hits come from search engine results, and so much hit-and-run browsing makes me thankful for the returning visits the site records. Suffice it to say that so far, you’re, um, an exclusive club. I’ve been toying with the idea of starting a forum, but without a compelling “angle” that would differentiate it from the hordes of automotive forums out there, I don’t want to put in the time to set that up, as much traffic as that would have the potential to generate.

Preemptively, and because I would like to focus on automotive topics through the next holiday, I do have a few goals for Spannerhead for the new year:

• Complete my “About” page. The site feels a bit bare without it.
• Finish stocking my merchandise site. Soon you’ll be able to buy a Spannerhead t-shirt (among other things), but I need a few more designs before that goes live.
• Add a “like” or “share” button to each post to enable more specific networking.
• Integrate some kind of navigation into the header to make it easier for people to browse the site by topic. As the number of articles grows, I’d like folks to be able to see, for instance, a whole series at a glance.

That should keep me busy for quite a while. Again, thanks to all my faithful readers, and a very merry Christmas to all. May your daily commutes be safe, your heel-and-toe downshifts seamless, and the bases of each of your trees festooned with wonderful car-related gifts.

The Aston Martin DB5 would be nothing more than a footnote in its automaker’s history had it not become arguably the greatest movie car of all time. Unlike other movie cars (DeLorean, Volvo P1800, etc) which were catapulted from obscurity to screen stardom but still had something intrinsically unique and memorable about them, the DB5 was nothing more than a 3-year (’63-’65) transitional model between the more significant DB4 and DB6. The former was the first “modern” car from the British prestige automaker, featuring proportions and mature design details passed down to every subsequent Aston. The DB5 only differed substantially from the ‘4 in that it had a 5-speed transmission and a third SU carb providing fuel to its 0.3l-larger 4.0l, 282-hp inline six. And the later DB6 was an important stepping stone to the V8 Vantage that carried the company through the turbulent ’70s. The ‘6 was larger than the ‘5 in many key dimensions, had a host of styling alterations and upgraded equipment and featured more conventional body-on-frame construction in place of the DB5’s tube-frame structure.

For as few changes as it incorporated over the DB4, and for as many differences as the DB6 featured, it’s safe to say the DB5 was just a stopgap—until it rocketed to worldwide fame as the Bond car in the iconic ’64 feature Goldfinger.

Curiously, to me, the story of the DB5’s somewhat improbable celebrity has certain parallels with that of another notable Briton—and another “5”—Henry V. Reigning for 9 short years (1413-1422), sandwiched between more long-lived and significant monarchs, achiever of a handful of notable military successes (Agincourt, among others) in the same way the DB5 was inherently a good car, Henry V’s tenure on the throne would likely be much more obscure were he not immortalized in William Shakespeare’s play. As with the Aston, it’s amazing what a little publicity can do for one’s historical perception. Like king, like car.

Editor’s note: This post is part of an ongoing series discussing cars which featured prominently on film or television. Read the other installments here:<

• McLaren P1 (The Weeknd’s “Starboy” music video)
• Ferrari 328 (Sleigh Bells’ “Infinity Guitars” music video)
• Maserati Biturbo 425i (Licence to Kill)
• The cars of Back to the Future Part II
• Aston Martin DB5 (James Bond franchise)
• Sunbeam Alpine Mark I (To Catch a Thief)
• Adams Probe 16 (A Clockwork Orange)