A 1997 Ford Escort is not exactly a rolling testament to the dreams of auto enthusiasts.

But for $300, it beats the ever loving snot out of a Schwinn.

This LX model was a trade-in from one of my customers. Did I rip them off? No. Not at all. One of the cylinders was dead. The interior was as dirty as Hugh Hefner’s mind, and with 221k miles coupled with a 5-speed, it wasn’t about to go on the front line.

But where should I put it?

Rent: Yes, people like small cars and you can always give a good detail to any dirty car. But 5-speeds? I did offer one, and only one, as a rental back in the day. It was a 1995 or 1996 Geo Prizm. I would only rent it out to older folks and would sit with them for a long test drive around town before letting it be sent out. Just to make sure that they knew what they were doing. It worked out real well. But unless I replaced the engine on this Escort, the rental idea would be a non-starter.

A small car like this would typically rent for $20 a day or $105 for a week. Miles don’t matter. Fuel economy certainly does in a semi-rural Southern town where folks have more distance to drive than money in their pocket. So it is possible to make this a rental. Except for one thing.

Lease: A good engine for these things is about as tough to find as a popular American car in South Korea. An inordinate number of these Escorts end up having engine problems between the 120k to 150k mark. Why?

Click here to view the embedded video.

The Escort has an unusually high compression ratio  for an economy car. A low tolerance for bad gas, and an engine diagnostic system which is pretty much the worst I’ve seen in OBDII history. In short, these engines don’t last unless you put at least 89 octane in them and ‘listen’ for issues. This particular one had no check engine light blinking even though cylinder one is now more defunct than an old parrot in a Monty Python sketch.

Lease? $500 down and $50 a week once the repairs are done. But only if I could find a good engine with a prancing unicorn next to it.

Sell: Perhaps, but to who?

There are three types of prospective beater buyers. The ‘cheap keeper’. The ‘cheap flipper’ who would try to nickel you down even if you were selling the car for fifty cents. And the ‘cheap old guy’ who really isn’t in the market for a car at all. But wants to call you up anyway and share stories about his once great ride.

The cheap keeper will sometimes have what I call Craigslist issues. For example, the title of your ad can read.

1 OWNER 1997 FORD ESCORT – 5-SPEED – COLD AIR – RUNS BUT NEEDS ENGINE WORK

And the top three questions you will likely get are…

1) Is it a stick?

2) How many owners?

3) Does it need repairs?

if you live in a major city you will also get…

4) Can it pass emissions?

This is where it pays to know someone who already has a good use for this type of vehicle. In my case, I have a friend who owns one of the largest junkyards in the state. Since all the doors and interior components are in good shape, he will likely get a decent return out of it. I also know a few mechanics who are always looking for a cheap ride for the wife, ex-wife, daughter, son, or the friends they play poker with on Friday nights.

I can sell it quick for $450.

Keep:  How cheap am I? Not at all these days. I used to always drive the most fuel efficient car on the lot or the ‘wore out mop’ that I bought for a low price. These days the small things start to get to me pretty quick. My commute may only be all of 5 minutes when I’m not heading to the auctions or other dealerships to load up on cars. But I have found that driving a car that encourages conversation can offer returns far greater than a wore out beater. The 1st Gen Insight will stay due to it’s popularity. This Escort needs to be gone.

So should I fix and rent it? Pray for unicorns and lease it to a stick smart buyer?  Sell it to the more gritty elements of automotive commerce? Or keep it as a rolling version of chick repellent?

What says you?

Americans with well worn passports often amaze their less-traveled friends with miraculous tales of a land full of tiny, fuel-efficient vehicles, expensive gasoline and miniature cans of Coke. (Really, those Coke cans are awesome.) The story inevitably ends with, “I wish I could buy X here”.  Ford has so far been the most receptive to these cries, with the tasty Euro Focus, Fiesta (and soon the Fusion/Mondeo) to our shores. But what about some fuel-efficient love for the man-in-the-van? That’s where the Transit Connect fits in according to Ford. TTAC is no stranger to the Transit Connect with our own Sajeev Meta taking a spin in 2009. However in this review, we’ll attempt to compare the Connect to the other commercial options on the market while channeling our inner Joe-six-pack.

The Connect is off to a good start, with sales climbing from 8,834 in 2009 to 31,914 in 2011 proving there is a market for a mini-bread-van. The small hauler even accounted for 21.4% of Ford’s US van sales in 2011. Meanwhile, sales of the ancient and thirsty E-Series increased from 85,735 units to 116,874 from 2010 to 2011. By comparison, GM shifted just 89,211 vans in 2011. The reason behind the sales jump is obvious: high gas prices and no efficient cargo haulers to compete with it. But does that mean you should own one?

The overall look is awkward to the American eye with a tall box grafted onto a long car-like hood, but looks aren’t what this vehicle is about. Compared with the E-150, the full-sized van is 36 inches longer, 9 inches wider but only 3 inches taller on the outside. The inside is where things get interesting. The E-150 supports a cargo hold 120 x 73 x 52 (L x W x H in inches) while Connect provides 81 x 59 x 59, that’s actually 7-inches taller than the E-150. Getting bulky cargo inside the Connect is easy with a cargo hold opening that is 51.1 x 52.1 inches (W x H) compared to the E-Series 53.9 x 49.5. More importantly, the load floor that is 5.5 inches lower and the double doors open a full 255-degrees  magnetically latching to the side of the van. If you prefer to talk in cubes, the Connect will haul 107 fewer cubic feet of widgets (130) than the E-150. Sounding too good to be true? The light 1,600lb maximum payload (half what a base E-150 will haul) limits the Connect to lighter hauling than even a Chrysler minivan (1,800lbs) and should be kept in mind before you buy one for your metal recycling business.

Compared to the RAM C/V, the Transit Connect is 22-inches shorter, 8-inches narrower but 10.4 inches taller. While Chrysler was unable to provide us with a RAM C/V to test, there are a few problems with the blue-collar Caravan you should know about. The C/V retains the Caravan’s tailgate making access more difficult when being loaded by a forklift or tall employee. In addition, despite being nearly two feet longer than the Ford, the RAM’s cargo hold is only 17 inches deeper, and although it is 3 inches wider, it’s nearly a foot shorter. The RAM’s ability to carry 4×8 sheets of whatever is appealing, but the cargo opening is smaller at 45×40 inches vs the Connect’s 50×52 inch opening. Who cares? Pallet fans. All standard North American pallet sizes fit in the Connect while only the smallest of the sizes will fit in the RAM. Where does that leave us on cargo? The Connect’s light payload precludes the baby-Ford from being used in heavy-hauling activities like carpet cleaning where a cleaning unit and waste tank can easily reach 1,900lbs. However, general cargo hauling, palletitzed items, bakeries, dry-cleaners, pet businesses, cleaning services and electricians may find the fuel economy and maneuverability outweigh the payload capacity.

The cabin of the Transit Connect is turn-of-the-century Euro-Ford. From the air vents to the steering wheel and center-mount window switches it’s obvious this Turkish delight hails from the old world. Despite the Connect’s European origins, the seats are broad enough to accommodate even the most American-sized drivers, but the padding could be thicker for long journeys. Due to the proportions, taller drivers downsizing from the E-Series will be surprised by more headroom (an epic 51 inches), an inch more legroom and a footwell that’s considerably wider and taller than the full-sized van  (due to the engine being entirely under the hood half way into the cabin). If you have size 12 or larger feet, the difference is tremendous with the E-150 constantly making me feel as if I was trapped.

For 2012, Ford killed the awful Work Solutions in-dash computer (as pictured above) and replaced it with the optional ($395) SYNC system which is a considerable improvement over the former Euro headunit in terms of iPod and USB connectivity as well as sound quality. On the downside it means that a navigation system is no longer offered. Should you need to GPS track your fleet, Ford offers their Crew Chief solution from the factory for $925.  Aiding inner-city parking are optional parking sensors and a backup cam, available together for $470. For some reason Ford chose not to re-key the Connect for the American market retaining the unusual Tibbe key which is more common across the pond but on these shores are almost exclusively found on pre-2006 Jaguars. The Euro-novelty key can cost up to $200 if you lose it. Ouch.

Shuttling the baby-bread-van around is Ford’s ubiquitous 2.0L four-cylinder engine and four-speed automatic borrowed from the previous generation American Focus. With just 136HP at 7,000RPM and 128lb-ft at 4,750RPM on tap, the Connect is far from swift, but considering it weighs 1,900lbs less than the E-150, it’s just as quick as the 235HP full-sized Ford. The missed opportunity with the Connect is obviously the ancient four-speed automatic which seems to hunt for gears frequently when hill climbing and rarely finds what it’s after. Should you feel gaseous, the Connect is available with factory Compressed Natural Gas (CNG) prep for $315 which consists largely of hardened valve seats. To complete the CNG picture, you take your Transit to a conversion company and they remove the gas tank and install the gas cylinders. While there is usually a net loss in cargo space as a result of the conversion, California and a few other states will allow certified conversions to drive solo in HOV lanes which may offset the reduction in capacity for some.

In order to test the Transit Connect properly, I grabbed some friends, loaded it to the gills and went camping. This was possible because our tester was a 5-seat “wagon”, the result of an import tax dodge. Not wanting to bore readers with the details, all Connects are built in Turkey with seats and rear windows and cargo-style floor covering. When they get to Baltimore, those destined for cargo duty have the seats removed and windows replaced with steel inserts. If you want a 5-passenger van, Ford will just skip all the needless destruction. Back to the camping: with three 200lb adults and some 1,000lbs total of camping gear, a generator, 60 gallons of water and 1/8 cord of firewood, the Connect was riding low on the dirt roads of the “lost coast.” Thankfully the combination of FWD and high ground clearance (7.9 inches vs 5.6 on RAM C/V)  and fairly short wheelbase (114 inches) made easy work of the rutted terrain and proved the Connect would perform admirably on the imperfect surfaces of the average construction site. Out on the open road, the Connect doesn’t feel “car-like” despite its car-origins, this is thanks to the solid rear axle and other “heavy duty” suspension tweaks. While feeling more like a little truck than a minivan, the Connect is surprisingly nimble in the city with a 39′ turning radius. That may sound large to some of us, but in the world of commercial vehicles this is positively tiny, cutting a circle 8 feet smaller than the E-Series, 4 feet smaller than GM’s V6 van, 9 feet smaller than GM’s V8 van and a whopping 14-feet smaller than GM’s extended wheelbase wares.

Over 1,100 miles I helped my brother move, commuted in traffic, and spent 4 days driving and camping from San Jose to Eureka. Despite the hauling, commute traffic and sustained 76MPH highway speeds on our road trip (and the resulting 3,100RPMS thanks to ye olde 4-speed automatic), the Connect never dropped below 20 MPG, a significant improvement over the V8 E-Series on essentially the same journey. That 20MPG number is the reason that Jane-six-pack buys the Transit Connect for her trendy cupcake delivery service and it’s also the reason Joe-six-pack should seriously consider whether the space and hauling capacity of the E-Series is required. If not, the Connect makes a compelling case against the full-size work vehicles. Until Fiat/Chrysler bring over the Doblo vans as promised and Nissan brings the baby-NV to market for the commercial segment, the Transit Connect is your best choice for reducing the footprint of your fleet. Or is it? Visit TTAC tomorrow to find out.

This is part four of a five-part series on commercial vehicles. Click the links below for the others in this series:

2012 Nissan NV

2012 Chevrolet Express / GMC Savana

2012 Ford E-350

 Ford provided the vehicle, insurance and one tank of gas for this review.

Specifications as tested

0-60: 11.8 Seconds

Average fuel economy: 20.5MPG over 1,105 miles

Although we ended up with a passenger van, and not a commercial van, all E-series vans feature a large front grille and longer hood thanks to a refresh in 2008 to make them look more like the F-series. Wagon and recreation vans use aerodynamic headlamp modules and acres of chrome, while base commercial cargo haulers have a blacked out grille and sealed beam headlamps. The chrome bling and modern headlamps look decidedly more attractive, but on a practicality level there’s a problem: those  snazzy duds are more expensive to repair when John Doe (your least careful employee) rear-ends Ms Daisy on Main Street. For $235 Ford will sell you their middle-of-the-road package which retains the black bumper cover but upgrades the lamps and grille. I’d stick with the base model if you’re not driving your own van. Out back the E-series vans all feature swing-out doors that open to a full 178 degrees making them almost as useful as the doors in the Nissan NV (the NV’s essentially fold flat to the side of the van) and more convenient than the 165 degree doors on the GM competition. Like GM, Ford offers your choice of a sliding or 60/40 split side door.

Our E-350′s interior is circa 2009, when Ford raided the Super Duty parts bin which means Ford’s SYNC radio and navigation units are on the E-series menu, a notable upgrade from GM’s infotainment options. Should your fleet need some big brother love, the CrewChief GPS tracking and monitoring system is available on most models. Our van was a rental, which meant of course that it had been driven hard, put away wet and had a vague aroma of spoilt milk and dog urine. This wasn’t some primped press car folks. After a quick wipe-down to prepare it for the camera, it was obvious the hard plastics inside were built to last showing little wear, just like the GM and Nissan offerings. On the creature comfort side, A/C is standard and Ford makes a backup cam, backup sensors and the aforementioned navigation system with SYNC optional. Volume purchasers beware, adding SYNC will bump your MSRP up $1,010 as it requires you upgrade to the four-speaker package and inexplicably you must add cruise control to the party.  If those items were already on your menu, then SYNC (with Bluetooth) itself becomes a $475 bump. Ford also offers an integrated trailer brake controller for $230 and a set of in-dash auxiliary switches (the same as in the Super Duty trucks) for $85 making it easier to pimp your ride.

If the phrase “all-new drivetrains” sets your loins on fire, skip this section. Ford offers a limited engine selection compared to GM – two V8s and a V10. The observant will notice that a V6 or diesel V8 option are conspicuous by their absence (the V6 was dropped in 2008 and the diesel in 2009).  While Ford markets the E-150 as the only full-sized van with a standard V8, I’m not sure 225HP and 286lb-ft (13/17MPG) are anything to trumpet when Buick’s 2.0L turbo four cylinder beats both figures and delivers them across a broader range (durability concerns aside of course). The optional 5.4L V8 bumps the power figures to (a still less than competitive) 255HP and 350lb-ft (12/16MPG) and was the engine in our rental. Even empty acceleration was sluggish and when loaded with 5 passengers and a weekend’s camping gear it was best described as “glacial”. The problem is not the 255HP, the Ford’s ancient 4-speed automatic which is the only transmission available with either V8. GM’s base 4.8L V8 may deliver less torque at 295lb-ft, yet combined with the modern 6-speed transmission the GM van never feels out of breath even in mountainous terrain. The E-Series on the other-hand often seemed like it was hunting for a gear that didn’t exist, especially on mountain highways and in steep urban settings. Ford’s optional 6.8L V10 brings a newer 5-speed auto, but it is still a cog behind GM. Despite superficially healthy numbers for the Ford V8 (305HP/420lb-ft), GM counters with a 6.0L V8 at 324HP/373lb-ft and one extra gear making it yet again the performance and “driveability” winner. On the green-cred front, Ford’s  V8 engines can be ordered with liquid propane or compressed natural gas prep packages; all you do is have a conversion company add the gas cylinders. Beware though, that the CNG conversion costs $13,000. While your gaseous E-Series may deliver fewer MPGs on the road and the “savings” are dubious, California and a few select states will allow solo CNG drivers in the HOV lanes with permanent stickers if your conversion is done at the time of purchase.

A van’s mission is to shift the most stuff. Both Ford and GM offer extended vans to swallow more, but how they extend differs. Ford offers an extended body while GM extends both the wheelbase and the body. Neither option is an outright winner so which option is better? That depends on what you’re hauling and where. GM’s regular wheelbase of 135 inches is shorter than the E-series’s 138 inch model and this helps GM’s V6 van be the most nimble with a 43-foot turning circle vs the E-Series standard 48-foot. Adding the V8 to GM’s van bumps the circle to 49-feet. The E-Series’ standard 216-inch length (vs the 224-inch long Express) is responsible for its slightly smaller cargo capacity able to swallow 12.5-foot long items vs GM’s standard 13-foot sword swallowing ability. Extending the rear of the E-Series takes cubic cargo capacity from 237 cubic feet to 278 cubic feet and allowed 14.6-foot items to be carried from the dash to the rear doors, while that sounds good, GM’s extended wheelbase vans measure in at a whopping 20-feet-5-inches holding 313 cubic feet of cargo and swallowing items that are 16-feet long (if placed carefully inside). The downside to GM’s wheelbase stretch is the enormous 54-foot turning circle making U-turns difficult even on the widest of expressways. The upside of the extension is superior handling when the cargo area is full by spreading the weight more evenly between the front and rear axles.

As my week with the E-Series van came to a close I had more questions than answers. Why would anyone that owned and operated their own van buy the Ford van over the Nissan NV which offers more creature comforts, more power and better fuel economy? Similarly, who would a large commercial customer buy the E-Series van over GM’s Express/Savana van with a wider selection of options, heavy-duty six-speed transmissions, greater hauling capacity and better fuel economy? At the end of the day the E-Series is a tired workhorse that knows it’s being sent to pasture, yet sales remain high for one reason; companies like a homogeneous fleet. Fleet buyers like being able to buy the same van they brought 10 years ago, knowing the same custom widgets will bolt right on. Perhaps that’s why Ford has pledged that the E-Series will soldier on even after the introduction of the Transit T-Series in America. With an advertised 25% better fuel economy on tap, let’s hope Ford can convince the commercial buyer lemmings to switch to a better product rather than defect to the competition.

This is part three of a five-part series on commercial vehicles. Click the links below for the others in this series

2012 Nissan NV

2012 Chevrolet Express / GMC Savana

2012 Ford Transit Connect:

 TTAC searched high and low, found the best web coupons and rented an E-350 van for a week for this review. Gas was expensive and not included.

Specifications as tested

0-60: 10.1 Seconds

Average fuel economy: 10.4MPG over 896 miles

A TTAC lede should intrigue and excite, yet what’s to snark on a Ford Super Duty with an aluminum bed? So here I am, being good friend to a girl that bought a home, tore it apart and reassembled with over 1600lbs of stone flooring: stuff that’ll eat up an Urban Cowboy’s prissy $30-50,000 rig. Or in this case, a self-made woman’s stainless steel infused Lincoln Blackwood. Is it any surprise she’d need a rental?

The F-350 isn’t a lovely beast in XL-grade black plastic, and Home Depot’s tagging doesn’t help. Even worse, Ford’s latest Super Duty takes the trend of “inflated styling features” to the point there’s no room for sheetmetal on the front facade.  Insurance companies rejoice, but fake fender vents further prove that modern trucks are out of scope. Side mirrors cleverly attach to a droopy DLO (day light opening), with rooftop clearance lights and anti-bling steel hoops: all hallmarks of the XL lifestyle, but I long for the days when trucks weren’t so proportionally silly.

Luckily, the rough-and-tumble lifestyle receives a supple 40/20/40 vinyl bench. The “20” folds to make an armrest with storage. Rubber flooring encourages muddy boots. And the requisite hard plastics?  NFL linemen use ballet to up their game, and Super Duties need the minimalistic soft vinyl from yesteryear’s F-350. Trust me; it wouldn’t lose an ounce of macho.

Home Depot trucks have a unique interior quirk: note the steering wheel lock, smell what must be a blend of sweat, dirt and the chemical used to remove dog/cat urine smells from carpeting. Like, awesome.

Fire up the Super Duty and something magical happens.  The 6.2L “BOSS” V8’s initial exhaust burble is pure muscle from the days of smog-belching big blocks and Nixonian secrecy. With a few (manly) twists of aluminum locks, the Super Duty’s cargo “walls” become a flat bed. Home Depot’s fork lift has ample room to offload the pallet, and the prodigious leaf springs easily take the load.  Ride height is now 2-3”lower, if that matters.

The ride is fairly smooth, only with the extra rearward weight. The numb, slow steering makes sense considering the value your heavy and brittle investment staying in one piece. There’s plenty of stopping power even with more nose dive than an ordinary car.

Which proves the point: as every decade passes, trucks improve at the same rate of cars.

Back to the stone: after pulling 20+ tiles out, the quality was a little suspect.  There’s enough body filler here to patch a fleet of Mazda Protégé 5s.  So we reload the F-350, unfold the bed’s walls and drive back.  Are those rain clouds up ahead? While she asked the boys at Home Depot to exchange the crate, I did my usual ADD analysis of the interior. The upfitter switches were a nice touch, ditto the abundance of cubbies and cup holders.  The basic information display was controlled by a PlayStation-worthy pad on the tiller. Then a familiar song emanated from the 2-speaker stereo. The electronic hi-hats were clearer than crystal and bass hit like a boxer fighting above his class. As the clouds threatened again, the lyrics came down on me like shelves of bolts from Home Depot’s hardware aisle:

You can Blame it on the Rain,

Cause the Rain Don’t Mind!

And The Rain Don’t Care,

You got to Blame it on Something!

Is this really happening? Why am I here, thinking about a future TTAC review? How did I not grow up, get married and whatnot? Was that guy in high school right about me, am I really an existentialist?

Oh dear. Mercifully, the new pallet arrived, and–escaping the rain–the new tile was unloaded. After a long evening, we returned the Super Duty and went back to the luxurious confines of the Lincoln Blackwood.  But wait…let’s talk about straight line prowess.

6-speeds, 385 horsepower, 405lb-ft of twist. A pair of stump-pulling camshafts happily rev to 5500RPM inside a delightfully retro-styled big block Boss mill. With the traction nanny off and the transmission locked in first, the Super Duty squats, hooks and absolutely flies off the line.

Whoa mamma!  Gear number two and you’re merging on the highway with authority: the Boss is an absolute beast. Once the howl of a thousand big block Galaxies left my eardrums, one thought remained: why can’t we have this damn powertrain in a Ford car?

But I digress. The F-350 Super Duty proves something: the base engine is far from entry-level.  Who cares if gas motors are 3-7 MPG worse (probably, but not rated by the EPA) than a Powerstroke Diesel? The Boss is just that.  With no purchase penalty ($7835), no urine supplements, cheaper fuel ($0.30 a gallon) and a stunning Muscle Car soundtrack, the Boss Super Duty equates to the perfect big truck for all but the most serious towing junky.

For everyone else? Instant bliss is just a Home Depot away, for about $20 an hour.

The F-150 has been Ford’s best-selling nameplate and the best-selling vehicle for 30 years and the best-selling truck for 35 years. If you wonder how the F-150 manages to be all things to so many buyers, you have to look at the F-150 as if it were several different vehicles that share the same name. With 10 different models ranging from the $22,990 no-frills XL to a nearly $56,000 Platinum model, few other vehicles have a price spread like the F-150. Adding to your shopping dilemma is a line-up with four different engines, three cab sizes, four bed sizes and more axle options than you can shake a stick at. For our review we were given the high end F-150 Platinum 4×4 with the 5.0L V8.

In 2009 Ford released the 12^th generation F-150 which was bigger in almost every way compared to the 2008 model, adding a taller hood, bigger cabs and a nifty tailgate spoiler. In typical Ford fashion, the powertrains were largely carried over and we had to wait until 2011 to get the full picture of the “completely new” F-150. Let’s shake up the typical review format by talking engines first: the 2009 and 2010 F-150s were V8-only trucks, with the old 4.6L or 5.4L V8 under the hood. 2011 brought not one but four new engines to the F-150; two V6 options and two hefty V8s. All engines for 2011, including the base V6, are mated to Ford’s six-speed automatic transmission and optional 4WD.

Platinum F-150s come with a standard “Coyote” 5.0L V8 (as our model was equipped) which delivers a healthy 360HP and 380lb-ft at 5500 and 4250 RPM. Our 4×4 equipped tester delivered a 6.75-second sprint to 60. If you have displacement envy, you can jump up to the 411HP and 434lb-ft 6.2L V8 for an extra $2755, but the ringer in the group is the 3.5L Ecoboost V6 model which delivers 365HP at 5000RPM and a whopping 420lb-ft of twist at a diesel like 2500RPM for only $895 more than the base 5.0L V8. If the bang-for-the-buck doesn’t pique your interest, the EPA numbers on the 4×4 models might: 14/19 for the 5.0, 12/16 for the 6.2 and 15/21 for the Ecoboost (eco is a relative term apparently). While the 6.2L V8 sounds incredible, a short towing demo I had in an Ecoboost V6 (and the larger payload capacity of the Ecoboost model) made me doubt whether anyone would be better off with the big-daddy V8. The only downside we noticed: slight turbo lag at the stoplights.

On the outside, Platinum models are distinguished with a revised grille that attempts to soften the bold lines worn by its blue-collar brethren with perforated bars. Unique wheels and an enormous brushed-aluminum panel on the tailgate tagged with “PLATINUM” complete the “I run the company” image. While the badging is more subtle than an Escalade, it still lets other F-150 drivers know how you roll.

GM’s pickups feature your choice of a “work-truck” interior, or a car-like dashboard borrowed from GM’s full-size SUVs while Dodge’s mantra seems to just be “cheap plastic”. Instead of taking either approach, Ford uses one interior theme for all models but as you climb the price-ladder, bits and pieces are swapped out for swankier duds. The base XL gets a rubbery steering wheel, mono-tone dashboard and a durable black plastic center console while top-end F-150s can be had with two-tone dashes, a stitched pleather gauge hood, and faux-wood trim or acres of brushed aluminum. Unlike some of GM’s attempts at “tarting-up” their work trucks, the F-150 feels comfortable all-dressed up.

Joining the new engines for 2011 is a tweaked instrument cluster which now sports a 4.2-inch LCD between the speedo and tach (not offered on the F-150 XL, optional on XLT and standard on other F-150s). The screen is used for the usual trip computer and vehicles settings as well as displaying off-road information like vehicle pitch and yaw. Joining the snazzy in-dash LCD on the Platinum model is a revised steering wheel, standard backup camera, ambient lighting, power-lowering running boards, integrated trailer brake controller, remote start, 110V power outlet, power folding mirrors, power tilt/telescoping steering wheel, backup sensors, heated and cooled seats, and dual-zone climate control. If you don’t plan on adding a lumber rack, an optional sunroof is available, as is Ford’s SYNC navigation. MyTouch critics will be pleased to note that the updates SYNC system hasn’t made its way to the F-150 just yet. The up-side is improved reliability and a snappier interface, the downside is the loss of WiFi connectivity and the second USB port, a small price to pay in my mind. While the build quality isn’t up to Audi levels, entry level luxury shoppers will find just about every creature comfort they could ask for.

The Platinum can only be had with the four-door “SuperCrew” cab and as a result, the payload suffers somewhat starting at 1,800lbs with the 5.0L V8 and 2WD, jumping to 2,000 with the Ecoboost V6, dropping sharply to 1,680lbs due to the added weight of the 6.2L V8. These are some serious hauling numbers that required a ¾ ton pickup truck to achieve not too long ago. Thisare a hair shy of the 3100lb payload capacity mentioned in some F-150 ads, possible in only two of the 57 axle/cab/engine combinations.  Compared to the Ram and Chevy, the Ford offers consistently higher payload capacities but more configuration options to wade through, so be sure to check the configuration and the door labels on your truck before you add a pallet of concrete to your weekend.

For the trailer-loving truck-buyer, the endless battle between the big-three for top-dog towing numbers has resulted in some impressive figures. Depending on your axle ratio and drive (2WD or 4WD) choice, towing tops out at a whopping 11,300lbs for the Ecoboost, 11,200 for the 6.2L V8 and a notably lower but still substantial 9,500lbs with the base 5.0L V8. Making towing easier, Ford includes an integrated trailer brake controller standard on the Platinum and a few other F-150 models. If you tow regularly and care about maintenance on your rig, there’s now an app for that. While Ford obviously ripped Apple with their “Truck App” name, it does provide some handy features like keeping track of the mileage on 10 different trailers and remembering the brake gain for each trailer. In order to keep your “distance to empty” figures more accurate, it also recalculates the averages when you have a trailer connected.

If you’re looking at the Platinum, you’d better have deep pockets Then again, if you’re the weekend warrior type, it’s cheaper than your comparable BMW X5. Our tester started with a sticker of $44,325 on top of which was added a $470 electronic locking axle, 6-1/2-foot bed, $325 folding side-steps and a $2,465 option package which included a sunroof and navigation system taking our tester to the nose-bleed section at $52,405. If that price frightens you, $27,670 buys you my personal favorite: the F-150 XL with the Ecoboost V6, 8-foot bed, 3.55:1 locking rear axle, cloth seats, power accessories, CD player and cruise control. Configured in this way the F-150 delivers 3060lbs of payload capacity and 9,800lbs of towing ability.

At the end of the week I found myself more in love with trucks than when I started. There was just one problem. The F-150 is huge. As with most vehicles these days the F-150 has been growing like the Stay Pufft Marshmallow Man. While I used to feel like a man when I was in college out muddin’ in my buddy’s F-150, the 2011 Ford makes me feel small, and adult-Alex has at least 40lbs on his former college self. With the CUV craze killing off SUV towing capacity, the day for me to finally take the truck plunge is rapidly approaching. The four-door luxury pickup truck may be the right truck for an Austin professional with a ranchette in the burbs, but I can’t shake the feeling that I would be best served lusting for the new Ford Ranger from afar and buying a diesel Touareg. I’d still dream pickup dreams in my sleep however.

Ford provided the vehicle for our review, insurance and one tank of gas.

Statistics as tested

0-30: 2.514 Seconds

0-60: 6.75 Seconds

Fuel Economy: over 555 miles, 17.0MPG

My brother wasn’t the most adventurous member of the family. When we were kids he was always whining: “mommy I don’t wanna go in the hot air balloon”, “mommy, I don’t wanna ride the pony”. These memories came flooding back when I stepped out of a cute, light little Fiat 500 and into the high-beltline V6 Mustang. As the Mustang pulled up, my first thought was: mommy, I don’t wanna ride the pony. My problem with the Mustang V6 wasn’t the car itself, it was the driver: me. Maybe it’s because when I was a kid my Mustang was killed by the Mustang II. Maybe it was because the last 5.0 was really just a weak-sauce 4.9. Before I even got behind the wheel, I was asking myself: what is the point of the pony car? Is it just to look cool? Deliver easy burnouts? Why not buy something else? The new V6 ‘stang is headlined as the holy grail of RWD car shopping; 300+ HP, 30+ MPG or as I like to say: all the hoon, half the gas. Because of the hype I had to see for myself if the V6 pony car is the perfect RWD companion, or should if $22,000-32,000 would be better spent on something else. Let’s find out.

From the outside, the Mustang checks all the right boxes for me: it’s big, it’s bold, it’s brash. The same could be said of the Camaro, except that somehow the Chevy’s form ends up being a tad cartoonish for my tastes. The Camaro reminds me of that kid in high school that tried too hard to be cool and ended just up being weird instead. The Challenger is as true to the old muscle car form as any, and is perhaps my favorite style-wise in this segment. The 370Z’s simple lines are in many ways the most conservative in the segment, and the Hyundai Genesis being fairly unique among coupes. Of course style is very much a matter of personal taste, and the Mustang’s look may not be to your liking. Let us know your thoughts in the comment section below.

Let’s talk engines. While the Mustang’s design has historically evolved slowly over time with evolution not revolution describing the chassis and drivetrain changes, 2011 is different. While last year’s Mustang received the same 210HP 4.0L V6 and 4.6L “modular” V8 (that trace their history back to 1968 and 1991 respectively), the 2011 model year brings not one, but two new engines to the plate. While the power-hungry in the crowd will gravitate towards the new 5.0L “Coyote” engine with its 412 or 444 horses (GT vs Boss 302), the 305HP 3.7L V6 is what we’re here to talk about.

Ford’s 3.7L engine is a member of Ford’s new V6 family introduced in 2006. This family includes the 3.5L engine in the Ford Edge and the 3.5L twin-turbo direct-injected V6 in the Taurus SHO. For Mustang duty, Ford opted to fit the 3.7L variant with dual variable valve timing, skipping over turbos and direct injection no doubt to keep costs low, the V6 ‘stang starts at $22,310 after all. This means Ford’s new V6, like those from Japan, needs to rev to produce the advertised numbers. For someone that’s driven Ford’s previous generation pony cars, this high-revving nature takes some adjusting to get used to.

The exhaust note of the new Mustang doesn’t sound like other high-revving V6s like the 3.7L from Nissan which is like a siren call enticing you to rev the nuts off the engine. Instead, the Mustang reminds me of a mid-90s Pontiac with an exhaust tuned to highlight a low burble. Noise aside, there’s no arguing with the numbers, the new V6 produces 305HP at a lofty 6,500RPM (up a whopping 46%, or 95HP from the old 4.0L V6). Because the V6 isn’t force-fed, the torque gain is a more modest 15% increase to 280lb-ft at 4,250RPM.

While many reviews bemoan the high-revving needs of the V6 compared to the V8-packing GT, the numbers match up against the competition favorably with the Genesis 3.8 sporting 306HP @ 6300RPM and 266lb-ft at 4,700RPM, the 370Z packing 332 at 7,000RPM and 270lb-ft at a very lofty 5,200RPM and of course the Camaro V6 at 312HP at 6,500RPM and 278b-ft at 5,100RPM. Combine this with recent reports that Ford is underrating the V6’s power output and the blue oval’s latest baby-pony is certainly running with the “string”.

If the numbers make you leery, I can assure you that V6-burnouts are extremely easy and quite satisfying. Easy and satisfying are the two words that frequently came to mind when engaged in shenanigans I would normally never admit to engaging in. Suffice it to say the new V6 is far livelier than ever before, and while you do need to keep the revs up to keep the fun going, doing so is a cinch. Instead of spending money on a new independent rear suspension, Ford chose to fit the Mustang with a set of features that are just about worth the trade-off. First among them is the slick new 6-speed manual transmission, the same as GT buyers get. Shifts are incredibly short and the feel is almost up to BMW standards. Base V6 buyers also get true dual exhaust, a limited slip rear diff, side-impact airbags for when your sideways shenanigans end up in a tree and the usual assortment of power windows and locks. Ford didn’t just fiddle with options, they also stiffened the chassis and tweaked almost every aspect of the suspension.

When the going gets twisty, he base V6 Mustang can end up feeling like it’s writing checks its brakes and suspension just can’t cash (something that could never be said of the old V6). Fortunately Ford offers a solution to this problem in the form of the $1,995 “V6 Performance Package” which buys you GT brakes, GT suspension, sway bar, strut tower brace, performance rear axle, and 19-inch summer rubber. If you are buying the V6 mustang for any reason other than price, this option is an absolute must-have and the only reason a gear-head should buy the base V6 would be if you plan on modding your pony extensively.

Out on the road, the live rear axle works flawlessly on smooth roads but broken pavement unsettles things in a way you don’t experience in more expensive chassis setups like the 370Z or Infiniti G coupé. Still, the Camaro with its crashy ride is far worse, and the Dodge is just too soft and heavy for performance aspirations. The unsettled feel on mountain roads I frequent, combined with the numb electric power steering meant it took a few days to really start pushing the limits of the car, which are actually fairly high despite the less-than-polished road manners. Without access to a slalom or skid-pad I can’t speak absolute numbers, but the horizontal grip is quite possibly the best among the V6 competition. It’s the feel that sells the Mustang short, and makes it feel like your car is secretly plotting to kill you in some spectacularly diabolical fashion. Mind you, the Dodge Challenger V6 has absolutely nothing up its sleeve, neither does the Hyundai Genesis, and that makes them rather boring in comparison. The Camaro on the other hand just feels like it’s going to kill you in some sloppy un-planned affair that will end up in the tabloids.

Inside, the mustang shows off Ford’s recent attention to interior quality with suitably squishy dash bits, optional real aluminum trim, and all the modernity you expect in a car from the 21st century wrapped in a suitably retro wrapper. While I find the lack of a telescoping steering column a fairly large omission (especially due to the reclined seating position) taller drivers are likely to be fine, short drivers, not so much. At 6-feet tall, the Mustang’s high belt-line and far-away steering wheel position made me feel like I was driving my dad’s Oldsmobile when I was a kid, not the feeling I look for in a car. Fortunately for the gadget lover, a retro wrapper doesn’t mean old-school electronics. Well, OK, so the Mustang is “stuck” with the old SYNC navigation system for the moment. Personally however, I call that a good thing as it is far, far more responsive than the MyTouch system that has been receiving fairly bad press lately for sluggishness and frequent system crashes.

The only downside to the older SYNC system is the lack of a second USB port, no internet connectivity and a few differences in the voice command system, all of which I wager 99% of buyers will never miss. As always with SYNC, voice commanding your iPod or USB device, the navigation system or radio is just a button press away, the best thing since sliced bread and without real competition from anyone. Once Hyundai brings the new UVO system to the Genesis, the Korean coupé will give the Mustang a run for its money, but that’s later. Also on offer is an up-level Shaker audio system on which “Ice Ice Baby” sounds particularly bitchin, dual zone climate control, and an interesting gimmick in the form of “My Color”. MyColor allows the driver to select from a pre-defined selection of colors for the gauge cluster, or you can create your own “custom” colors by entering R G B values in the on-screen menu. Check out the video below for more.

Click here to view the embedded video.

Of course, comparisons are essential when you see a V6 Camaro or Challenger in the Starbucks parking lot. In this three-way-shootout the Mustang shines. The Dodge can be almost dismissed early due to the 600lb heavier curb weight and much larger proportions. (Due to the added heft, the V6 Mustang is more comparable to the V8 Challenger R/T.) The Camaro is a close contender and you could be forgiven for buying a Camaro because you like the look, you would however be buying the slower vehicle as the V6 Mustang is quicker (with the right manual driver of course). If however you see an Infiniti G Coupe or Nissan Z in the parking lot, just stare at your latte and get in your ‘Stang without making eye contact; they will beat you at the stop-light-races every time.

Perhaps the most appropriate comparison of all however is to the “other” Mustang, the GT. It goes without saying that Ford’s new 5.0L V8 sounds better, delivers more torque, more horsepower, faster 0-60 times and some totally rad 5.0L badges. (I know, I’m a child of the 70s, so sue me.) Pricing and fuel economy are the real reasons you would shop the V6 over the GT. The V6 starts at $22,310 which is about what you’d pay for something like a Chrysler 200 and $7,000 less than a base Mustang GT. Adjusting for feature content (aside from the fire breathing V8), the V6 still enjoys a $5,000 lower starting point. For me, the $695 reverse sensing system is an absolute must because of the poor rearward visibility. The $1995 performance package is a no-brainer since it basically gives you GT brakes, suspension, rear diff, etc.  This brings my personal realistic base price to a still reasonable $25,000. Stepping up to the “Premium” V6 (as our tester was equipped) gets you the snazzier instrument cluster with MyColor lighting, better looking 17-inch wheels (which are replaced by the performance package), the up-level Shaker audio system, SYNC, Satellite radio and an auto dimming rear-view mirror for a fairly hefty $4,000 over the base V6. If, however you would like things like heated power seats, dual-zone climate control and navigation, you have to start with the Premium trim. Our tester was an essentially fully loaded V6 premium (manual transmission) that rang in a $32,320, or the same price as a GT with only a few options.

I think we all agree we live in the muscle car renaissance. This new generation of muscle car delivers the brash style we Americans seem to crave and six-cylinder engines that would easily dust the majority of “muscle cars” from the last 20 years. However, this is 2011 and not 1991, and the rest of the automotive landscape has changed as well. In this light the V6 is not a high-performance muscle car; that would be the GT. It is however a blast to drive, a fairly good value, and more than enough pony for most shoppers, including perhaps that brother of mine.

Ford Provided the vehicle for our review, insurance and one tank of gas

Statistics as tested

0-30: 2.0 Seconds

0-60: 5.1 Seconds

1/4 Mile: 13.8 Seconds @ 102.0 MPH

Fuel Economy: 25.2 MPG over 689 miles

As recounted in an earlier review, the new Focus in Titanium trim is good enough to justify a price tag over $27,000 for a compact Ford. But what if you don’t want to spend that much, or want a manual transmission, which is not available with the SEL or Titanium trim levels? How much do you give up with the SE? I requested a $21,380 Focus SE hatchback with the Sport Package to find out.

With small cars, hatchbacks are often more attractive than their related sedans. To my eye, the Focus is an exception. With the hatch, the rear quarters appear scrunched and drawn out, with a bit too much going on. The oversized tail lamps don’t help. I also found myself wondering about a cutline below the tail lamp, before realizing that was someone’s overly clever way of locating the fuel filler door. The smaller Fiesta hatch is a cleaner, more attractive design. All of this said, current competitors are either less attractive, less stylish, or both. The Focus at least lacks the sort of deal-killing aesthetic flourishes found on the Mazda3. A possible exception: black wheels that attend the $495 17-inch tire upgrade. Easily fixed: don’t tick that box and go aftermarket (more on this later). Wheels make a big difference on either bodystyle: both sedan and hatch look much better with the Titanium’s optional five-spoke 18s than with the other, smaller rims on the menu.

Inside the SE loses the padded upper door panels and trades some of the Titanium’s titanium and “piano black” trim bits for more prosaic silver ones. I thought I’d miss these, and find the SE interior dreadfully cheap in comparison. But during the week I had the car I didn’t. Not one bit. Everything looks and feels solid and precise. The SE’s rugged black cloth with gray accents looks and feels both sporty and upscale. This is the way BMW used to do cloth back in the 1980s, before leather (or something that resembled it closely enough to fool the masses) became de rigeur in ultimate driving machines. Need more color inside the car? For $795 Ford will substitute red and black leather. With the sun out and outside temps in the mid-90s, I was happy the tested car lacked this option.

As noted in the earlier review, the instrument panel is quite large, its height and depth pushing the limits of what I consider a sufficiently open forward view. I once again cranked the seat up a few clicks to get a good view over it. You can’t get MyFord Touch on the SE. Instead, as in the Fiesta there’s a confusing, unconventional array of buttons to contend with for the audio and communications systems. I figured out the basics after a few days, but full use of the system requires either extensive, often frustrating trial and error or (horrors) a trip through the owner’s manual.

The Sport Package includes a leather-wrapped sport steering wheel and aggressively bolstered sport bucket seats. These are both comfortable and supportive. The headrests don’t jut too far forward to be obtrusive. The non-adjustable lumbar support fit my back well, but others will no doubt wish for a larger and/or higher bulge. At 5-9 and 160 pounds, I’m not a big guy, and had plenty of room in the front seat. Larger drivers might find the instrument panel and center console overly constricting. Perhaps the seat’s side bolsters as well–they were about perfect for me.

Ditto the back seat. I could very comfortably sit behind myself with an inch of air ahead of my knees, an inch over my head, and a high well-shaped cushion supporting my thighs. A six-footer would be more of a squeeze.

Cargo volume is typical of a compact hatch. The 60/40 second row seats fold to form a perfectly flat floor, but not easily. Instead:

1. Unless the front seat is already pretty far forward or upright, move it out of the way.

2. Tip the rear seat bottom forward.

3. Remove the rear seat headrest.

4. Fold the rear seatback.

5. Return the front seat at least part of the way to its original position. (The seat can no longer slide all the way back, but enough for drivers up to about six feet.)

I’m guessing that there was a choice between ease of use on one hand and a flat floor and full-sized rear seat on the other, and the latter priorities won out. It would help if the rear headrests folded like those on the Explorer, but this was likely ruled out for cost reasons.

Get the car moving, and the Focus SE instantly impresses as much as the Titanium did. This $20,000 Ford has the thoroughly refined slickness, solidity, quietness, and composure you used to have to buy a hyper-expensive German machine to get. This is evident during the first fifty feet, and remains impressive after a week in the car. Even over Michigan’s pockmarked streets the Focus rides well, with tightly controlled body motions. Some cars absorb bumps a little better, but they have the advantages of a longer wheelbase and wider track. A Chevrolet Cruze isn’t far off in overall refinement. But the Hyundai Elantra trails considerably, and the new-for-2012 Honda Civic is hopelessly far behind.

The usual downside of this level of refinement: curb weight. At 2,920 pounds the new Focus has plenty of it (though still about 200 pounds less than a Cruze). One impact: even a strong, smooth 2.0-liter engine like the direct-injected, 160-horsepower, 146-foot-pounds unit employed here isn’t going to generate gut-wrenching acceleration. Don’t slip the clutch a bit off the line, and the first few seconds turning onto a busy road can seem to take forever. Especially if the AC is on. At other times performance is easily adequate, but well short of thrilling.

A sixth cog would help. The five-speed manual is geared to provide grunt off the line and economy on the highway, so the ratios are spread a little too widely for an engine with a 4,450 rpm torque peak. On the other hand, operating the shifter and clutch couldn’t be easier. Throw length and effort are both moderate, and their feel is as thoroughly refined as the rest of the car. One contributor: a fairly heavy flywheel that blunts some of the potential of the engine.

An upcoming Focus ST with a 247-horsepower turbocharged four and a six-speed manual should cure these performance ills, and then some, at the cost of, well, a higher cost. For those who want more than 160 horsepower, but who don’t need or want to pay for license-threatening looks and speed, Ford should consider offering a naturally-aspirated 2.5-liter four with roughly 200 horsepower. This would hit a sweet spot.

The 2.0-liter engine is economical, especially considering the weight of the car. The EPA estimates 26 city / 36 highway. The trip computer reported low 30s in suburban driving with the AC on high.

The Sport Package does not alter the suspension tuning, which is currently “sport tuned” for all trim levels (per Q&A with Ford). Handling is very good, but again short of thrilling. The steering, while well-weighted and generally better than most buyers will be used to, could feel sharper, more precise, and more nuanced. The Mazda3 retains a clear edge in this area, and even the previous Ford Focus felt more direct. Partly this is the cost of refinement, but also that of an economy-maximizing full electric system instead of the electro-hydraulic hybrid employed by Mazda. The Focus SE’s chassis will do just about everything you ask of it well (except feel light on its feet), with sharp turn-in, minimal understeer (partly due to electronic wizardry involving the brakes), good communication, and excellent composure—until you approach the outside front tire’s limits. Then things get a bit mushy, if very safe.

Step up to the Titanium, and an extra $595 for the Handling Package gets you moderately firmer struts and 235/WR18 Michelin Pilot Sport3s that grip harder and feel sharper in aggressive driving. Or just do as suggested earlier: don’t spend $495 on the factory’s 17-inch Contis, and go aftermarket.

As mentioned in the intro, the tested car lists for $21,380, while the equivalent sedan lists for $20,780. You can save $495 by doing without the 17-inch wheels and tires, but in this case you’ll definitely want to spend considerably more on an aftermarket set. You could also save $800 by doing without the SYNC system’s USB and Bluetooth connectivity and satellite radio, but you won’t unless you’re still living in the twentieth century.

Similarly equip a 2011 Mazda3s hatchback, and it’s a $110 less. Adjusting for remaining feature differences using TrueDelta’s car price comparison tool finds the two are nearly even. So the decision between these two isn’t going to be based on price. Rather, on refinement and fuel economy (the Mazda is rated only 21/29) vs. acceleration and steering feel. For most people the Ford will easily win this match-up.

A Kia Forte5 SX is the budget buy in the segment, with a list price of $19,090. With a larger engine, it’s quicker than the Focus, and has a longer warranty, but is less economical (22/32) and far less refined in just about every way (materials, powertrain, ride, handling). Features are about even here as well. Is it worth saving $2,000 to get a car that looks and feels $5,000 less expensive?

To get the premium look and feel of the Focus in a semi-affordable car, it’s necessary to go with a Volkswagen Golf—and even the not-yet-decontented VW hatchback isn’t at the same level as the Ford. You also cannot get the sporty look and feel of the Focus SE Sport without stepping up to the much more expensive (and much quicker) GTI. Compare a base 2011 Golf with Bluetooth to a Focus SE with SYNC but without the Sport Package and 17s, and the VW is about $400 more. So close to both the Focus and the Mazda3, but without their sportiness.

The 2012 Ford Focus isn’t a hooner’s delight right out of the box, but I’m nevertheless amazed by just how good it is. Even in SE trim it has the look, feel, and refinement of a much more expensive car. And it drives better than 90 percent of the population will ever expect it to. So, if you simply want a really good, nicely trimmed compact car, but don’t want to spend $27,000+ for it, $21,000 or so (before dealer discounts and taxes) will do the trick.

Ford provided the vehicle, insurance and one tank of gas for this review.

Michael Karesh operates TrueDelta, an online source of automotive pricing and reliability data.

Yes, this is a $27,340 Ford Focus. And nav would add another $795. How could a Ford Focus possibly be worth this much? Read on.

As with the smaller Fiesta, there’s a whole lot going on in the exterior design of the 2012 Ford Focus. But all of the curves and creases manage to come together to form a coherent whole the looks both upscale and sporty—especially in the top Titanium trim with the $595 18-inch alloys and $495 “yellow blaze metallic tri-coat” paint. Some would prefer cleaner, simpler lines, but among the current crop of compacts this one looks the best to my eyes. Unlike many complicated designs, it shouldn’t age badly, as the proportions are good and none of the many details seems excessive or extraneous. (The large tail lights come closest to crossing this line.)

Inside the Focus, aesthetic complexity continues, and not quite as successfully as with the exterior. The design struggles to successfully combine both gunmetal and piano black trim, chrome highlights, contrasting stitching on the seats, and a prominent multicolored display. Like the exterior, the interior looks both upscale and aggressively sporty. In the upper trim levels materials and construction are as good as they get in this segment, and far, far ahead of those in the new Honda Civic. But on repetitive commutes or long drives it can help for an interior to be calming. This one is always sharply dressed for a night on the town. It’s not a place to kick back and relax.

Reviews of Ford’s latest-and-greatest controls have been mixed, at best. The touchscreen display looks fantastic—competitors’ control systems appear dated in comparison—and it’s fun to play with. But it isn’t easy to operate while driving. A very good voice control system reduces the need to use the touchscreen, but this isn’t a valid excuse. Luckily, well-designed knobs and buttons are provided for the HVAC controls and heated seats. There’s a physical power control for the audio system, but I couldn’t initially find it—it’s the small button beneath the left side of the CD slot.

As in the new Honda Civic, though for different reasons, the instrument panel is surprisingly tall. I had to crank the drivers seat up to comfortably see over it. Thankfully, the windshield isn’t laid back as far as some, and the pillars flanking it aren’t overly thick. Spotter mirrors aid rearward visibility; a good thing, as the rear deck is high. The front seats are outstanding, with both abundant padding for comfort and large, firm bolsters for lateral support. Perhaps Ford learned a thing or two from Volvo?

A disadvantage of the large front seats: there’s barely enough room behind them for the average adult. This could be a deal killer for some. A shame, as the rear seat is mounted high off the floor—for good thigh support and forward visibility—and nicely shaped. The trunk is a little larger than the class average, though conventional hinges do cut into the usable space.

Fire up the four and get going, and the initial impression is of a heavy, well-insulated car. As speed climbs the car feels lighter and more compact, but never quite tossable. Even with the Titanium’s sport suspension and the optional ultra-low-profile high performance tires ride quality is very good, only getting a touch abrupt over some minor bumps. The quantity and quality of the noise that enters the cabin suggest a premium car. The new Focus sounds and feels like money.

Even optioned for best performance, the handling of the new Focus isn’t overtly sporty. Like some high-end European sedans the new Focus feels a bit lazy in casual driving, but rises to the occasion on a challenging road. The 235/40WR18 Michelin Pilot Sport 3 summer treads that attend the optional 18-inch wheels provide a ton of grip, and the well-damped chassis has composure to spare. Perhaps due to the sport suspension there’s none of the on-center squishiness that afflicts the Fiesta. The steering feels quick and well-weighted around town—but borders on twitchy at highway speeds. As is almost always the case, feedback through the thick, heavily-padded rim could be better. For a direct, delicate feel and nuanced feedback, a Mazda3 remains the way to go. Though certainly fun to drive, the Focus Titanium is a luxury sedan first and a sport sedan second.

The powertrain could be the car’s weakest link. The direct-injected 2.0-liter four kicks out a very respectable 160 horsepower at 6,500 rpm, but it has to contend with over 3,000 pounds of curb weight. Consequently, while acceleration is easily adequate, it’s short of thrilling. The sound of the engine is also a bit out of line with the rest of the car. Though not unpleasant, and largely suppressed, the high-pitched whir is clearly that of a smallish four, and would seem more appropriate is a less luxurious, lighter-feeling car.

While a five-speed manual is offered in the lower trim levels, a six-speed dual-dry-clutch automated manual is mandatory with the SEL and Titanium. This transmission didn’t behave well when I sampled it in a Fiesta, with overly frequent, sometimes clunky shifts. This time around Ford’s new box behaved much better, more or less mimicking a conventional automatic. What it didn’t do: contribute to a sporty driving experience with lightning quick, firm shifts the way Volkswagen’s dual-wet-clutch DSG does. Unlike in the Fiesta, it is at least possible to manually select gears via a rocker switch on the shift knob. While this should do for grades and such, shifting via the lever would be better and paddles flanking the steering wheel would be ideal.

With the manually-shiftable dual-clutch transmission, the Focus earns EPA ratings of 27 city and 37 highway, very good numbers for such a well-equipped, rock-solid, reasonably quick sedan. The Hyundai Elantra does a couple mpg better, but it has a less refined, less granitic feel to it. The Focus weighs a couple hundred pounds more, and this has benefits as well as costs.

Reliability could be an issue. Based on responses to TrueDelta’s Car Reliability Survey, the smaller Ford Fiesta has gotten off to a rocky start. Many of the reported repairs involved a poorly functioning electrical ground, because of which the car would not start or the transmission would not go into gear. In a few cases the dual-clutch transmission shared with the Focus suffered a major failure. Hopefully Ford spent more time working the bugs out of the 2012 Focus.

Then, of course, there’s the price. The sticker only tops $27,000 if you get the top-level Titanium trim and load it up with options—many of which are not even available on competitors. For the features included and the car’s premium look and feel, the price isn’t out of line. Equip the new Focus SE like the $21,255 2012 Honda Civic EX, and it lists for $21,165. The main outlier: an Elantra Limited lists for $20,700, and includes heated leather in both rows. Even after adjusting for feature differences using TrueDelta’s car price comparison tool, the Hyundai is about $1,300 less at MSRP and $700 less invoice-to-invoice (Ford dealers have larger margins to play with). The Ford’s higher price seems justified: it rides and handles better than the Hyundai, and simply looks and feels like a more expensive car.

Overall, the new Ford Focus is very impressive, with the look, feel, and features of a premium car, but also very good fuel economy. By most metrics it’s the best car in an increasingly competitive segment. The Mazda3 remains more fun to drive, and the Elantra costs a little less. But most people care more about ride than handling, and will be willing to pay a little more for the Ford’s advantages over the Hyundai. The big question mark: reliability. Time will tell. With owners’ help, TrueDelta—and TTAC—will have initial reliability stats for the new Focus in November.

Frank Cianciolo, an excellent salesperson at Avis Ford in Southfield, MI, provided the car for this review. Frank can be reached at 248-226-2555.

Michael Karesh operates TrueDelta, an online source of automotive pricing and reliability data.

Ford’s Jim Farley is well-known among autojournos for off-the-cuff remarks, but as he stands in a Laguna Seca garage, facing approximately twenty members of the Press As A Whole, he manages to deliver a real bunker-buster, one which speaks directly to this humble writer’s heart.

“This car… it isn’t meant to be stored in a garage somewhere. It should be on YouTube… maybe doing something illegal.” Oh, yes. Let’s immediately go out and do that. It isn’t until I’ve reached the top of a Monterey canyon, my ears and eyeballs vibrating from the past few minutes’ violent, screeching, Pikes-Peak-style run, that I come to my senses and delete the footage from my Android camera. We’ll let someone else lose their press-trip privileges following the big man’s advice.

That turns out to be a smart move, because an hour later I’m sitting at the pitlane entrance with a broken, smoking BMW M3, a dashboard full of warning lights, a squawking handheld radio, and a feeling that I will need to use all my accumulated goodwill in this industry, whatever miniscule amount that may be, just to survive the afternoon.

Nearly a year ago, I drove the five-liter Mustang GT at Summit Point Raceway and proclaimed it to be far, far better than the competing big-inch ponycars. A better foil for the high-horsepower GT’s abilities, I suggested, would be the Corvette C5 Z06. That may be true, but the Mustang team at Ford didn’t have much interest in drawing direct comparisons with used cars.

Instead, when the idea for a new “Boss 302” was floated around Ford’s corridors, it was decided to tilt at one famous modern windmill: the V-8-powered BMW M3. I know the M3 pretty well, having found myself a few tenths of a second behind one at Monticello during the CTS-V Challenge. It’s a solid all-around performer, capable of whipping the lower half of Porsche’s lineup around most racetracks. Only the dismal, depressingly low-spec brakes keep it from being perhaps the most well-rounded four-seat performance car… in the world, as they say.

What would it take for a Mustang to beat an M3 around Laguna Seca? The easy way to do it would be to chip-tune the car to within an inch of its life, fit bigger tires, drop the gearing, and add a couple of caveats to the claim like “Specially prepared vehicle used for testing”. Think of those Nurburgring videos where mystery-boost GT-Rs and fully-caged Corvettes go wild in the hands of generic-label race drivers.

That’s what they could have done. What they did was the following: There are two completely revised aero packages, one for the “plain” Boss and one for the “Laguna Seca” model, about which more in a bit. The engine has a — wait for it — completely unique set of heads with extra polishing, bigger exhaust valves, a new exhaust cam, special bearings, a redesigned crank, and new valvetrain components. The nominal improvement is modest — up to 444 horsepower from 412 — but on the road it feels more Daytona Prototype (or, to be accurate, ContiChallenge GS) than street car.

The “Brembo package” is standard in this car, with new pads by Performance Friction and improved brake lines. The suspension now has five-position manual dampers and revised spring settings. The payback: this car has the kind of precision damping you’d expect from “Koni Yellows”. There are side-mount exhausts to make it louder, a bigger swaybar to make it rotate, and special 19-inch wheels with 285mm P-Zeros at the back. Serious hardware.

On the back roads around Laguna Seca, I quickly discover that the 302’s monstrous pace is far too much for the brakes. This is a car which can be regularly catapulted on short straightaways to speeds that are multiples of the ol’ 55 limit. Imagine braking from 110 or 120 to 50 or 60, over and over again, and you will start to understand why I’d want a set of Baer eight-piston stoppers on my Boss. As has been the case for the last few years, the infamous live axle is almost imperceptible to the driver, although if your commute takes you through downtown Boston that won’t be the case. On smooth roads, however, the Boss combines the composure of an old BMW E46 and the wailing buzzsaw thrust of a 289 Cobra.

It’s with a sense of relief that my co-driver (and racing coach) Brian Makse and I arrive at the controlled environment of Laguna Seca. We’d been the first car on the road and one of the last to return, and I’m hearing stories of furious cops who dismissed any hope of catching our orange Boss and instead lay in wait for those behind us. Now it’s time to put on our big-boy hats and drive for real.

Ford claims that the standard Boss 302 is about a second faster than an M3 around Laguna Seca, with the special-edition car being faster still. To prove the point, they’ve brought a white M3 to the party. With a low option load and the carbon-fiber roof, this particular M3 looks the business. Naturally I’m the first one to drive it. I haven’t been to Laguna Seca since I faced Brian in the Skip Barber Media Challenge, and I’m anxious to come back up to speed.

My “out lap” is uneventful, and I’m conscious of being the only car on-track as I pass the corner stations on my single flying lap. The M3 is a trustworthy friend out here, with a near-perfect driving position, great visibility, and controls that almost operate themselves. The timer fitted to the car records my lap as 1:50.1, which is pretty far away from the 1:45 turned in by Ford’s Rolex GT crew, but hey: I haven’t been here for a year and I don’t want to wreck the car.

As I enter the pitlane, however, the BMW goes insane, flashing the dashboard and abruptly braking me to a shrieking, clattering halt without my intervention. I radio for help and the car ends up needing to be restarted a few times before deciding to let go of the brakes. This is, frankly, terrifying. What if the brakes had “grabbed” while I was negotiating the infamous Turn Nine? Worse yet, the journos are gabbing that I “broke the BMW”. I prefer to think of it as ensuring that my drive impressions were unique, since the BMW promptly goes in paddock garage and never reappears.

Time to try the “Laguna Seca” edition 302. This costs $47,150 against the standard car’s $40,140. You get a shocking aero package with a street-illegal splitter, bigger wheels, Lamborgini-OEM R-comp tires, a Torsen diff, brake scoops, and an underbody transmission cooling scoop that is certain to be shorn off by a racetrack curb somewhere. The back seat is gone, replaced by a contrast-color X-brace. This car is almost obscene-looking in its aggression. I love it.

Love at first sight, maybe, but the Mustang will never “fit” like the BMW. Where the Bimmer inspires confidence in its driver positioning, the Mustang makes me feel like there’s no perfect way to adjust the seat. The dashboard is tall and the cockpit is dark. The controls are bulky and awkward. Oh well. Time to head out. I notice that the stability control system on this car is off by default.

Just four turns later, I’ve decided to buy My First Mustang. This is, beyond the shadow of a doubt, the most neutral-handling street car I’ve ever driven on a track. Understeer is nonexistent and the tail can be rotated at will once you reach the approximate limit of the tires. It would be easy to “stunt drive” this car sideways around Seca — and Brian, in our drive together, does just that — but I’m already on probation so I concentrate on extracting some time without abusing the machine.

Here, as on the street, the revamped five-liter impresses, pulling in strong and linear fashion all the way across the tach. Only the heavy flywheel destroys the impression that one is driving a racing-prepped Mustang. Not that the last racing Mustang I drove, a ’95 Cobra running in NASA CMC, would be able to touch this car. It’s seriously quick and I have no trouble seeing how it’s a few seconds faster than an M3, perhaps very close to a C6 Z06. The unibody feels like it’s a solid casting and I have no concerns about using a little bit of left-foot braking to tighten my line through Nine.

This Laguna Seca Edition is a revelation, a joy, a wonder, but the standard Boss is garbage. Just kidding. If anything, the “regular” car is more fun to drive, a little looser and nimbler on its smaller rear wheels, different tire compound, and sensible spoilers. I guesstimate Brian at 1:45.5, counting seconds on my imprecise IWC Spitfire UTC, and I turn a less dramatic but probably not much slower lap myself a few minutes later. We’re only two seconds or so away from the pros, and those last few ticks would certainly arrive if we had more than six laps at Laguna Seca to learn the car. It’s just plain fun to drive.

If only it stopped. Brian’s hot lap takes all the brakes out of the car for mine, and I’m momentarily concerned as I crest the long straight before Seca’s “Corkscrew”. I understand why Ford can’t fit a $5000 brake system to a $40,000 car, but I’d recommend that Boss owners in the real world think about addressing it. Yeah, you can “manage” the brakes, as Ford’s tame drivers do in their media-ride hot laps, but I don’t have to manage brakes in my Porsches and I don’t want to do it in this car, either. That sounds too much like work.

You’ll need to do some work of your own to find a Boss 302. Fewer than four thousand will be available. Do the math and it’s easy to see that some dealers won’t get one to sell. The Laguna Seca edition will represent a small percentage of those. Instant factory collectible. Boo hiss! Talk to your dealer now, rather than later.

At dinner later that evening, a fellow journalist whom I deeply respect expresses his complete lack of enthusiasm for the car. “It’s fast on the track, but it’s a 3600-pound Mustang that costs a lot of money.” I understand his concern. There’s nothing socially relevant about this car. There’s nothing particularly shocking about the idea of another fast ponycar. It doesn’t do anything for the economy, the industry, or the climate. That doesn’t mean I don’t want one, and if you have the chance to drive the Boss, you are likely to want one, too — even if your current car is an M3.

I thought the Ford Freestyle would sell well because it was so incredibly functional. It didn’t, even if I bought one myself (in updated Taurus X form). I thought the Ford Flex would sell well because it combined even more room and comfort (if inferior visibility) with the style of a MINI. It hasn’t done well, either. But Ford hasn’t given up. For the 2011 model year the Explorer, which ruled the SUV segment through the 1990s, has been transferred to the Volvo-derived platform that provided the basis for both the Freestyle and the Flex. Why might its fate be different?

In a word: styling.

The Freestyle looked like a large wagon. Wagons, as much as driving enthusiasts love them, fell out of public favor about a quarter-century ago. The Freestyle, along with its Five Hundred sedan counterpart, also demonstrated that too few Americans were interested in Fords that looked like supersized B5 Passats. Bauhaus has never possessed broad appeal on this side of the Atlantic.

So the Flex went in a very different direction, making a much stronger design statement that, despite some British influences, was clearly American. This statement connected strongly with some people but repulsed far more. It didn’t help that the Flex retained the proportions of a station wagon.

In contrast, the new Explorer is proportioned like an SUV. Compared to the Freestyle, it’s three inches less lengthy (197.1), four inches wider (78.9), and a couple inches taller (70.4). The hood and beltline have shifted skyward even more than the roofline. Between these proportions and clean-but-bold styling, the new Explorer looks athletic and even tough in a way the Freestyle and Flex never have. There’s something different here, especially in the shape of the nose, so the new Explorer won’t get lost in a sea of crossovers. But it’s not so different that people will be scared away. After two failures that went against industry trends, Ford has given the market the exterior styling it wants in a crossover.

The new Explorer’s interior is dominated by the new MyFord Touch system, which includes a pair of a small LCD displays flanking an analog speedometer and a large touchscreen in the center stack. This system has come under fire for difficulty of use, but aesthetically it makes the interiors of the Freestyle, Flex, and every competitor appear dated. The base audio system includes raised touch-sensitive controls on matte black plastic. The optional Sony audio system substitutes a totally smooth glossy black panel. Use the sophisticated voice controls (which do involve a learning curve of their own) and the hard-to-use non-buttons can largely be avoided.

Aside from these controls, the styling of the new Explorer’s interior is more conventional than that of the Flex. Materials are above average for the class, if not luxurious. Soft polymers cover the instrument panel and doors. And yet the door panels still appear cheap, courtesy of “stitching” that is far-too-obviously fake. Because with more convincing faux upholstery it’d be a Lincoln? GM included similar stitching in the 2007 Saturn AURA, only to remove it a year later following intense criticism. Apparently GM’s lesson wasn’t learned in Dearborn.

Climb into the driver’s seat and the dramatic changes continue. The wider body translates into three additional inches of shoulder room, for a noticeably beamier cabin. The instrument and door panels seem massive. I generally set the driver’s seat in its lowest position, but felt compelled to raise that in the new Explorer. There’s plenty of headroom in which to do this—I could have worn a top hat. Even with the seat raised visibility takes a hit—the A-pillars are massive and the others are also fairly wide. The cloth seats are overly mushy (can a seat be appropriately mushy?); for long-distance comfort the firmer leather buckets should be better, if still not as good as the thrones in the Flex.

Like in the Freestyle and Flex the second row is a comfortable height off the floor. But, despite what the spec sheet suggests, there’s less second-row legroom than in the Freestyle much less the limo-like Flex. There’s enough room for adults, but not enough for them to stretch out. It helps that there’s plenty of room for even boot-clad feet beneath the front buckets. But it’s necessary to fold the headrests before folding the second-row seats—otherwise they hit the front seats. (The second-row headrests in the new Dodge Durango must also fold, but do so automatically when the seat is folded.) Dimensions in the third row are similar to those in the Freestyle and Flex, so two adults will fit knees-high in a pinch.

When the third row is upright there’s a deep well behind it, an advantage over many crossovers. The innovative system for folding the third-row seats to form a low, flat floor carries over from the Freestyle and Flex. It’s so easy to operate that the optional power-folding third-row would not remotely be worth its additional cost and complexity even if it weren’t much slower. Despite the wider body, the Explorer’s cargo area isn’t significantly wider than the Freestyle’s. The additional inches appear to have disappeared into the sidewalls. Factor in the truncated rear overhang, and there’s a little less total cargo volume than in the Freestyle. But the difference wouldn’t be significant except for one other change: unlike those in the Freestyle and Flex, the new Explorer’s front passenger seat does not fold. So you won’t be transporting a kayak (or very long ladder) inside the car. This potential—which I might never actually use—is one of the things that initially attracted me to the Freestyle. Being able to fold every seat save the driver’s to form a very long, totally flat load floor is a thing of beauty to some of us.

Outfitting the Freestyle for soft-roading apparently involves adding a lot of pounds. The all-wheel-drive Explorer tips the scales at 4,750, an increase of over 500 compared to the Taurus X (essentially a Freestyle with a 3.5-liter V6 and conventional automatic). The 3.5-liter V6 from the Freestyle and Flex has been tweaked to bump peak horsepower by 27, to 290, at 6,500 rpm. Mid-range power (as indicated by peak torque) receives much less of a bump. Given the curb weight increase, acceleration is more leisurely than in the Freestsyle, but still easily quick enough for the way the Explorer asks to be driven. (There’s not a whiff of sports car here.) As in other applications, the Ford 3.5-liter V6 sounds a little gruff and pedestrian when revved. The six-speed automatic carries over, but unlike in the Freestyle and unboosted Flex it can be manually shifted, via a toggle on the shifter. This feature isn’t only useful in sports cars. I badly missed the ability to hold the transmission in a specific intermediate gear while traversing muntainous West Virginia in my Taurus X this past weekend.

Those seeking more power are out of luck, at least in the near term. Ford’s twin-turbocharged V6 won’t be offered, at least not this year. Instead, a turbocharged four will be available with front-wheel-drive. The turbo four is considerably less powerful than the V6 (237 HP), but about equally torquey. Will Americans be willing to spend an extra $1,000 for two-to-three more MPG? Despite its additional mass, even with the V6 the Explorer is more fuel efficient than the Freestyle with a 3.5 (a.k.a. the Taurus X). I get 16.5 around town in my Taurus X. In the Explorer the trip computer reported 18.5 in similar driving. The EPA ratings back this up: 15/22 in the Taurus X AWD, they’re a more competitive 17/23 in the Explorer AWD. Whatever enables the much heavier Explorer to get better fuel economy…I want it in my car.

The suspension tuning is firmer than in the Flex, but not as firm as in the Freestyle. Given the size, weight, and mainstream mission of the new Explorer, it handles well, if not sportily. The steering provides little feedback, but it’s nicely weighted and quick. When hustled, the new crossover feels a half-size smaller and lighter than it actually is—bearing in mind that it’s tall, wide, and heavy and the driving position will never let you forget this. The Explorer likes to rotate, and so feels more agile than the Flex (such things being relative) if decidedly less car-like than the Freestyle. Body motions are somehow better-controlled than in the lower, more firmly sprung Freestyle, and both understeer and lean in hard turns are moderate. The proactive stability control (“curve control” in Ford-speak) operates transparently most of the time. The ride is usually smooth and very quiet. At idle the engine is nearly silent.

Crossovers happened because people will pay substantially more for them than for a wagon or a minivan. I drove a fairly low-end 2011 Explorer, an all-wheel-drive XLT with Package 201A (MyFord Touch, rearview camera, dual automatic HVAC), Towing Package, and floormats. The list price: $36,645. It’s possible to option an Explorer well over $40,000. A similarly-equipped 2009 Ford Taurus X listed for about $4,000 less. Adjusting for the Explorer’s additional features using TrueDelta’s car price comparison tool cuts the difference to about $1,500, which seems very reasonable. But Ford had rebates of up to $4,000 on the Taurus X, vs. $1,000 currently on the new Explorer. So in terms of transaction prices the increase is considerable. Looking at current competitors, a comparably equipped new Dodge Durango tends to be a few hundred dollars less than the new Explorer.

I was especially eager to drive the new 2011 Ford Explorer because I recently bought a 2008 Taurus X. Will I later want to swap to the new vehicle? Now that I’ve been able to compare the two, I’m not feeling the urge. The Explorer’s styling definitely has broader appeal. And the MyFord Touch looks great and is fun to play with even if it’s not always easy to use. But while smooth, quiet, and composed the Explorer drives less like a car. It’s also harder to see out of, has less legroom in the second row, and its front passenger seat doesn’t fold. In other words, functionality didn’t sell, so it wasn’t nearly as high a priority this time around. Nevertheless, I expect the new Explorer to sell much better than the Freestyle, Taurus X, or Flex ever did. Will I be wrong once again? Probably not. My personal priorities aren’t widely shared. Conventionally attractive styling does sell and the new Explorer looks the part while doing everything else well enough or better.

Frank Cianciolo, an excellent salesperson at Avis Ford in Southfield, MI, provided the car for this review. Frank can be reached at 248-226-2555.

Michael Karesh operates TrueDelta, an online source of automotive pricing and reliability data.

Check Jack Baruth’s take on the 2011 Explorer here.

Imagine, for a moment, you are a plant. Well, not just any plant. You are Robert Plant, and everywhere you go, people want you to sing “Stairway to Heaven”. I’d rather not, you tell them. Never liked that one much, to be honest. We’ve a much better song that I’d much rather sing. Called ‘Kashmir’, dontcha know. Much better, that one. For years, you refuse to perform the song. You cancel a proposed Led Zeppelin reunion because the promotion company insists, positively insists, that you play “Stairway”. You’d rather play “Kashmir”. And since you don’t really need the money, that’s the end of it.

I suspect the people who run Ford can sympathize a bit with Mr. Plant. Their “Stairway” is a four-door SUV called the Explorer. You might have heard of it. Sold a bunch, that Explorer, even though it was always kind of a hokey tune, a Ranger truck with a cap and a couple rows of plastic-leather seats, perched sky-high on underinflated Firestones.

The Explorer was never a truly outstanding answer to the family-wagon question, so a couple years back Ford created the Flex, which is an outstanding answer. It should have made the Explorer obsolete, but there were two problems. It wasn’t really an SUV, and it wasn’t an Explorer. And since Ford, unlike Zeppelin’s Golden God, needs the money…

The first two generations of Explorers were fundamentally pickup trucks. This one is fundamentally a car, which is to say it’s another variant of Ford’s much-loved (and much-hated) D3/4 platform. The company makes no secret of this, preferring to point out all the ways in which D3 has been updated for modern duty in general and SUV duty in particular. Although the rocker-panel-covering doors and bizarre QIX-pattern footwells remain, the driver now sits in an entirely new relationship to the rest of the vehicle.

Wide is the word here. The Explorer’s driver seat feels almost centrally located. There’s clear air between the chair and the armrest, with the door itself seemingly a foot and a half thick. The modern tradition of shoulder-height sills is fully respected in this car, as well. My transactions with the local Burger King gave me the distinct impression of being trapped in an oubliette, passing money and food through a distant trap door. It’s as far from the thin-door, narrow-body 1994 original as one can imagine, and it’s clearly designed to pander to all those perceived security issues supposedly experienced by female drivers.

My contract with TTAC allows me to make one “Xzibit” joke every month, so here it is: Sup dawg, we heard you like Audis, so we put an Audi in your Explorer so you can feel smug while you drive, yo. Ford didn’t just benchmark the leading German interior designs with this new vehicle; they actively riff off them. My favorite part? The power-lock button. It’s set within a delicate, perfect chrome ring, which is then set within the shiny black speaker grille for the door-mounted tweeter. As a complete design and execution statement, the Explorer’s interior is easily a match for that of the Grand Cherokee. The Japanese and the GM Lambdas aren’t even on the same playing field, and you’ll need to lease a Q7 with all the options if you want to see the next round of the game.

Ford’s complete myFordTouch system makes its second appearance here after the debut in the Edge. As with the Edge, there’s that odd cognitive dissonance between the pressure-touch main screen (as one might find in a modern automated teller machine) and the capacitance-touch center stack (think iPhone or Droid). Nor is the HVAC system particularly glove-friendly, unless you’re one of those hipsters who wears the special iPad gloves. If you are one of those “people’, feel free to go back to Jalopnik and read today’s feature article on hovercrafts, experimental aircraft, celebrity genitalia, or whatever other non-automotive thing they’re doing today. If, on the other hand, you are a member of that harried species known as “the American parent”, you will simply adore the way it’s possible to wipe down the whole console at once with a damp rag. No buttons means no crevices for dust, food, coffee, or soda, you see. That kind of stuff matters.

Speaking of parenthood for a moment… Let’s talk child seats. The Flex is a kid-seat superstar, able to effortlessly swallow two of today’s monstrous rear-facing infant enclosures without cramping the other passengers or permanently disfiguring the seatbacks ahead of them. It also has adult-sized seats in the third row and plenty of ways to get back there. Only minivans do it better.

Don’t expect the same accomodation from the Explorer. There’s a price to be paid for SUV styling, and in this case the price comes in the form of a shorter wheelbase. Forward-facing seats are okay, as demonstrated here by my fellow stunt driver John “Trip” Baruth III, but putting an infant in the second row will mean discomfort for the people sitting in rows one and three. Do not, however, imagine for a single moment that any of the competition is even slightly better in this regard.

By the numbers, the Explorer’s cargo capacity falls way behind that of the GM Lambdas, with approximately eighty cubic feet of max space versus one hundred and sixteen, but numbers might not tell the whole story. Real-world capacity probably isn’t that different, and the web forums are abuzz with allegations of clever measurement and fractions of cubic feet found in cubbyholes. Still, if you need the absolute maximum storage, the Acadia and siblings are the ticket. Same goes for towing: the Explorer tops out at five thousand pounds. To be fair, however, a Tahoe or Expedition would have far more towing and cargo capacity at a cost which wouldn’t be much higher. My experience pulling my race car on an open trailer with my Flex indicates that the D4 chassis is more than up to the job, but that the transmission just feels delicate. Serious towing with a sideways gearbox frightens me, and it should frighten you, too.

I was lucky enough to get some snow and ice during my time with the Explorer, and I found it to be more or less as competent as the AWD Flex, which is to say competent enough. As with the Land Rovers and Jeeps, there’s a “terrain dial” with four settings. I didn’t read the manual, but the settings are clearly for

• Truck Mode
• Spaceships And Railroad Tracks
• Cactus Proximity
• Giant Snowflakes

Rotating the dial produces a “click” and the satisfying sense that one has chosen an appropriate response for a situation. If there is any other effect, I could not discern it. The AWD system behaves about the same in all circumstances, permitting a little slip in the front before kicking the back in sans subtlety. Apparently the amount of permitted wheelspin is different in each setting, with the Spaceship setting being the most strict, just in case the aliens are police aliens looking to write tickets for street racing.

Speaking of… There’s not yet an EcoBoost option for the Explorer, whether you take “EcoBoost” to mean the fuel-economy-optimized four-cylinder option promised last year or the full-speed-ahead Taurus SHO engine that makes the Flex so entertaining to operate. Instead, there’s the single Duratec V-6 that powers most of the big Fords. It’s fast enough and it’s willing to rev when required, but if you want to hustle you’d be better off with a HEMI Durango. This isn’t aimed at the driving enthusiast. Feel free to wave your pink slip at an Enclave or a Pilot, but your neighbor’s RAV4 will show you its taillights.

Who is the Explorer customer? Well, it will have to be somebody with a decent job. Ford’s not a discount car company any more, and it’s trivially easy to bust the $40K mark when specifying an XLT, to say nothing of the Limited. The typical “intender” is probably female, upper-middle-class, image-oriented. She may have a few kids, or she may be an empty-nester. She won’t take the Explorer off-road, but then again, only a very committed few ever did, and they were used-truck buyers, not new-truck buyers. She will like the new styling — I was surprised how many positive comments I received about a vehicle which I personally thought was on the wrong side of visually generic — and she will adore the interior.

As a Ford salesman in the mid-Nineties, I continually struggled to divert Explorer buyers into Taurus wagons. I had a dozen reasons primed and ready to go in favor of the ovoid bull, from fuel economy to crash safety, with a pinch of comfort thrown in. I never made a convert. If you’re in the market for an Explorer, you’re in the market for an Explorer, period, point blank. The Flex is a fabulous vehicle, and “Kashmir” is a fabulous song, but in the long run… she’s buying a “Stairway to Heaven”.

O Brave New World, that has such automobiles in it! Welcome to the twenty-seven-thousand-dollar, mainstream-brand, non-specialty-model compact car. Open the door. All but the most perversely sybaritic will find their list of requirements fulfilled. A direct-injection engine teams with a twin-clutch transmission to deliver up to forty miles per gallon. We grip a steering wheel with brash aluminum trim and a half-dozen complex controls. The instrument panel has an LCD screen which surpasses the optional hardware in cars like the Audi A5, while the center stack has better resolution than your netbook. Everything you can see or touch feels ready to challenge your neighbor’s G35 or 328i for perceived quality.

The Ford Focus Titanium is, theoretically, the direct descendant of the 1981 Ford Escort “world car”, but on the road it feels much more closely related to the old Nissan Primera, known to us as the Infiniti G20. Size, power-to-weight-ratio, steering response… only the mandatory high beltline and chunky A-pillar of modern automobiles spoil the illusion. If you are truly a fan of “European-style” motoring, you can quit reading this review and go order a Focus Titanium five-door hatch right now. It’s everything you’ve wanted, and you will simply adore the day it darts around near-luxury barges like the Lexus ES350 while beating them on style, features, fuel economy, and price.

The rest of us are unlikely to buy any twenty-seven-grand compact, particularly one that has a domestic nameplate bolted to its nose. What happens when you cut ten thousand dollars’ worth of content out of the car, swap the hipster-cred five-door for the people-will-actually-buy-it four-door, and leave the dual-clutch transmission behind in favor of a plain manual transmission? Let’s find out.

Matthew 20:16 tells us that “the last shall be first”. A missed connecting flight put me dead last on the ground at the Ford preview event in Los Angeles last week, but I was richly rewarded for my dilatory arrival in a few different ways. First, I missed a bus trip with the socially awkward penguins of the blogger media — and I wouldn’t say I was “missing” that, Bob. Secondly, because I got to the start of the press drive after everyone else had left, I had no “media partner” with whom to swap seats. Instead, I got twice the drive time everybody else did, and with stalwart Ford engineers in the passenger seat instead of easily-terrified journos. Finally, I had the good fortune to arrive just as an unwanted five-speed base “SE” sedan did, which meant I would have a chance to drive Ford’s little wondercar in what could be its least-convincing configuration. Off we go.

Ten miles into the drive, heading for Topanga Canyon Boulevard, and I’m thinking about a Corolla. Not the current Corolla, mind you: that thing’s a God-damned disaster. I’m remembering the 1992 car, the “little LS400″, the Corolla that was assembled to obsessive levels of precision and rolled down the road like it cost twice the number on the window sticker. That was a great car, and so is this new Focus. It’s as quiet as it needs to be and there is precision in the machine. It’s recognizably German from the driver’s seat the same way the Cruze is recognizably Korean from across the street, and it has the same sense of dignified poverty one used to find in a 318i.

Much was made in the media presentation about the “torque vectoring” system which, like Volkswagen’s ASR and other similar setups, uses the brakes to simulate the action of a limited-slip differential. On corner exit, I found that it was too easily confused, leading to a wig-wag as the computer tossed power back and forth between the front wheels. There’s no substitute for a true limited-slip differential, and “torque vectoring” is no exception. To be fair, however, I was pretty far up the grip ladder when experiencing this phenomenon, and I couldn’t duplicate it in the second Focus I drove later on in the day.

The rest of the drivetrain, however, is just peachy. The transmission has just five forward gears instead of the fashionable six, but it works well with the two-liter Duratec, now turning out 160 horsepower. I found myself shifting five hundred revs short of the mechanical redline just to keep the engine boiling down the very tight switchbacks in our test road. In terms of outright pace, I’m not sure this car is any faster than the 2009 Focus SES Sport five-speed I drove around Autobahn Country Club for two days a couple years back; the extra power and wider torque band are absorbed by the ten-percent weight gain between the old and new models. At least the Focus is still substantially lighter than the Cruze.

What else is there to say about this affordable SE model? The seats are solid and supportive, the air-conditioner doesn’t absolutely soak power from the engine when it’s running, and you can get away with a little bit of left-foot braking before the ECU cuts throttle on you. I didn’t experience any brake fade, but I was deliberately preserving them most of the time since the penalty for boiled fluid while driving down a canyon road can be nontrivial.

A hundred or so miles later, I arrived at the “car change” area just as most of my colleagues, who started an hour or so ahead of me, were leaving. It must be nice to never be in a hurry when you’re driving, is all I can say. Time to upgrade to the aforementioned Focus Titanium five-door with the PowerShift gearbox.

The myFordTouch system is so complex, and so frequently updated in these early stages of its deployment to the public, that I’ve yet to drive two cars which operated identically in terms of response and available features. This one was pretty quick to perform the requested tasks, but it also took fifty-three minutes to index my 13,165-song iPod Classic. Not to worry; you can browse the iPod from the moment you plug it in, you just can’t talk to it until that indexing is complete. As a system, myFordTouch is very far from perfect, but it’s so far ahead of anything else available that bitching about response time or the fact that it understands “Vladimir Ashkenazy” but stumbles over “Renee Fleming” is simply beyond the point. Not only is this the undoubted future of in-car electronics, it’s also upgradeable over time, so today’s problems may eventually be as irrelevant as the old “Ping Of Death” is to Windows 7 users.

The PowerShift gearbox isn’t quite as futuristic, since Volkswagen beat Ford to the punch by a few years on offering a twin-clutcher in this class, but since both GM and Hyundai backed away from offering anything but a fluid-pumper in their new compacts, it still qualifies as a “bold move”. There are three basic ways to operate it:

• Leave it in “D”. This is probably the best idea.
• Select “S” and it will hold its gear down hills and on entry to corners where you are using the brake. If you’re in a hurry, it might be worthwhile, but don’t be “that guy” who drives around in “S” all time, okay?
• Select “S” and then use the up-down button on the shift lever to change gears. This has already been the subject of much wailing and gnashing of teeth in the press. To listen to Dan Edmunds et al, you would think that they are only a set of paddle shifters away from winning a race, and that’s only true if “set of paddle shifters” is a magic code phrase for “talent, coordination, and ten years of uninterrupted driving instruction”. Nope, I think Ford has it right this time. The target market for this car doesn’t want to bother with paddles and there’s a Focus ST coming to serve the go-fast guys.

Those of you who are interested in a bit of the old maximum street speed would be well-advised to buy a Cg-Lock and two-pedal your way down fast roads. The PowerShift will reliably grab the lower gear when presented with a throttle roll on corner exit and it does it quick-like. After about twenty minutes of self-shifting I decided to let the transmission do its job and our over-the-road pace didn’t suffer one bit.

Almost any small car looks good on California back roads, but the Focus Titanium puts enough rubber on the road for the actual cornering limits to be pretty high. More importantly, it’s a fundamentally stable platform. Rebound damping is adequate — and that is almost never the case in cars without an explicit sporting intent. Dry-road ABS engagement is predictable; this is a good car in which to learn the art of brake modulation. If you cannot average sixty or seventy miles per hour down a twisty road in the Focus, you aren’t trying very hard.

I will go to my grave thinking the 2008 Focus was the right car at the right time, regardless of what the mouth-breathers think. It was affordable, it was well-made in a way that the previous version was not, and it has provided dependable service for a few hundred thousand customers. There simply wasn’t a market for $27,000 Ford compacts then. There may not be one now, either. You can buy a pretty decent V-6 Fusion for that kind of money, and most Americans are likely to do just that.

With this new Focus, and the arrival of the premium-priced Fiesta, Ford’s clearly decided to stop competing on price in this end of the market. It’s probably a smart move; a German-engineered, Michigan-made car simply can’t fight a Monroney battle with Korean compacts assembled using Korean or non-UAW Southern labor. If anybody buys this new Focus, it won’t be because it’s a cheap car. Rather, they’ll buy because it’s good. Is it good? Yes. Right now, it’s the best compact car you can buy here, no matter which model you choose.

A top speed of over 140mph. Zero to sixty in less than 7 seconds. A composed suspension and jellybean-sleek sheet metal that still looks handsome after all these decades. That’s the 1989 Ford Taurus SHO, but Sergio Perfetti’s example is more than the sum of its historically relevant parts. And not just because it’s won two consecutive endurance races in the 24 Hours of LeMons on a $500 budget.

This LeMon-y SHO is never trailered and 100% street legal, with current Texas tags to prove it. Adding insult to injury, this SHO passed two LeMons Judges staff on the way to the track, cruise control set at 80+MPH. Why so fast? It has a full complement of creature comforts: heating and ventilation, power windows, a heavily padded race seat and a complete dashboard. Wear a cool suit (LINK: http://www.fastraceproducts.com/page/fastraceproducts/CTGY/coolsuit), hit the road and this Taurus not only lives up to it’s billing as the “Car That Saved Ford”, it’s SHOs (sorry) why Alan Mulally’s sees the original Taurus as case study for his turnaround plans.

Once the aged mechanical bits are fully sorted out. Starting off as a project car that sat for years in a backyard with a tree through its windshield, Sergio’s SHO has seen mechanical failures aplenty, but (most of) that is in the past. Perhaps the Taurus gets better with age?

The answer is both obvious, and not. Given the Yamaha V6’s reasonable (220hp) power, somewhat accurate gearbox and no Big Brother nannies, this SHO is fun on Road or Track. But here’s the kicker, it has the “good” stuff missing after 1989: heavy (but vague on-center) steering and an imposing rear anti-roll bar. Like every non-Mustang Ford since Don Peterson’s tenure, those not interested in understeering off the road must buy the Dearborn’s initial public offerings for true hoonability.

Not all was perfect in 1989. The LeMons SHO grabbed the larger front brakes from the 1993 Lincoln Mark VIII. There are race-spec pads, a NACA duct for the intake, larger wheels with (LeMons-spec) street tires, a quartet of used aftermarket shocks along with that heavy roll cage. But these changes don’t detract from the experience of cruising down the highway, windows down, on a summer afternoon in a…Taurus.

Which I did through the first three gears at full-tilt, reaching speeds far superior to most (cheaty) LeMons cars of the non-V8 persuasion. But too bad the SHO’s performance is merely admirable by today’s 250+hp family car standards. While third pedal’s long travel implied there was a paper-thin clutch afoot, the LeMons SHO had no problem passing SUVs on the highway. Blip the throttle, do a quick 5-3 downshift and whiz by. But do try and wave to the SHO’s adoring fans, as a raced prepped Taurus is rare on public roads, turning as many heads as a Ford GT. Just not for the same reasons, so smile extra big to compensate.

Back to the heart of the matter: handling. Unless you need active handling nannies as a CYA measure, the LeMons SHO is easy for anyone to drive. Mid-corner torque steer is minimal (yes, really) and triggering understeer is difficult in urban driving. I took a few clean curves and was impressed with the SHO’s flatness going in, and sheer rev-ability on the way out. I was delighted by its composure in early apex and heavy throttle situations: in plain English, drive like a moron and/or attempt to pass in a corner and the LeMons SHO won’t kill you.

Which equates to a nose that pushes when pushed, but adds the reassurance of trailing-throttle oversteer when needed. In LeMons speak, the SHO has the grunt of V8 muscle cars, but induces oversteer when you lift off the throttle, not the other way around. Which has distinct safety advantages in this zero-barriers-to-entry, positively looney Motorsport series.

I should reiterate: this SHO won two LeMons races in a row, using (mostly) OEM-spec parts and without the benefit of a trailer. Credit Sergio and his sharp-witted yet modest team. They, like any SHO owner, know when the stock 18-gallon fuel tank needs a pit stop, and are one of the sharpest crews around. That explains the multiple top ten finishes on track, and the number of well wishers in the pits.

While LeMons is full of cheaters, my SHO experiences over the years failed me, as I cannot find anything “cheaty” on this Taurus. Considering the amount of money spent to R&D a screamin’ sports sedan for daily commuting demands, it makes sense. The 1989 Taurus SHO is still an attitude adjusting, benchmark beating sweetheart. Adding a bunch of nice guys to this SHOroom (sorry) stock Ford sedan and it makes sense: reliably winning on the track over two decades after the Taurus’ introduction is a multi-generational homerun. When Detroit does something right they really, really nail it.

Sergio Perfetti provided the vehicle reviewed, and more of Tony G’s Taurus photoshoot is here

Readers who follow TTAC on Facebook had the opportunity to ask questions about the LeMons SHO. If you would like to ask questions of reviews in progress, check out our Facebook page. Fans, here are your answers:

Patrick: Racing brake pads aside, LeMons teams insist that regular maintenance is all you need, on a more frequent basis. Tony: Passengers have plenty of legroom, they merely lack a seat. TTAC’s Steven Lang: if you like well-done engine hot dogs, because it’s on track for at least an hour at a time. TTAC’s Megan Benoit: If I can pick up a chick in this Bull, I will marry her on the spot.

From the surface the F-250 strikes a very bold presence. This truck is seriously large. I parked next to two older Fords during a jaunt to Lowes and ye olde F-250 and F350 look like Tonka trucks in comparison. Matching the curb presence of the Superduty is the super-duper price tag. Starting at $28,020, our tester tipped the scales at $54,605. And diesel lovers will need to have especially deep pockets to see the King, depending on option packages the diesel is at least a $7,835 option. As Mel Brooks said: “it’s good to be the king.”

When you step inside the F-250, you realize that while Ford is spending big bucks improving the quality and feel of their passenger car interiors, relatively little is being spent on work vehicle interiors. Sure the interior of the F-250 looks butch, but for a vehicle that can easily cost more than any Lincoln it’s a pity that the F-250, even in decked-out King Ranch trim, still sports the same hard and nasty plastics on the inside as a Chrysler. That being said, there is a reality that a work truck needs to be capable of being ridden hard and put away wet, so perhaps an interior “Made Like Rubbermaid” finally does have a place. In all honest truth the Ford interior is just as good as the Dodge 2500, but somehow I expected more. King Ranch buyers beware; your edition doesn’t get any better dashboard components. While function over form may be good for most aspects of the interior, the steering wheel scores low marks with my personal scale. All the right functions are available on the steering wheel, but the controls surfaces are angled awkwardly making their use uncomfortable in the long term. In comparison, the GMC 2500HD has a very carlike interior, cheesy-fake-wood and all. While I appreciate the car-like styling, it both clashes with the work theme of a truck for me and yields no positive tactile feedback.

Before we delve into cargo hauling we should explore what exactly truck numbers and models mean these days. Once upon a time a truck shopper had really three options: half-ton, three-quarter-ton, or a one-ton pickup truck (F-150/F-250/F-350 in Ford nomenclature). The name refers to the payload capacity of the truck, and of course in our automotive world progress has meant that shortly after the names were coined, payload capacities started increasing every year. You can now expect a half-ton pickup to be rated to safely carry three-quarters of a ton or more in this century. Ford’s own three-quarter-ton F-250 when properly spec’d out will haul over two tons (4,080lbs), the F-350 with a single rear axle will haul over two tons (4,700lbs). If duallies are your thing, the F-350 will bring home some serious bacon with a whopping three-and-a-half tons (7,070lbs) of cargo hauling capacity. Counter-intuitively, the F-450 delivers a modest two-and-a-half ton (5,200lbs) cargo capacity as it is tuned primarily for towing.

Class leading payload and towing numbers are great, but the little known detail about these ratings is that it all depends greatly on what options you tick when you’re in the showroom ogling your future cowboy Cadillac. Our tester F-250 sported a much lower cargo capacity of 2,006lbs according to the door label due primarily to the 4WD option, short bed, crew cab and large shiny chrome wheels. Buyers keep in mind that the tire selection often has more to do with your cargo capacity than other options so if you need to haul some crap, you’d be best served with the small boring wheels and lots of rubber. Of course as with most drivers I didn’t look at the door label until we’d overloaded the F-250 with 3,360lbs of concrete. Oops.

Out on the road, the F-250 is a confident vehicle. While adjectives like sporty will never be applied to any large pickup, the F-250 was surprisingly agile on the road, loaded or not. Unladen, the F-250 and F-350 exhibit more jounce on uneven road surfaces than the GMC 2500HD, but with some weight in the bed the truck feels more “planted” than the GM.

As our test truck was equipped with a factory Class IV receiver with integrated trailer brake controller and both 4-pin and 7-pin trailer plugs, we decided a home improvement run was in order. Our hauling test included the F-250, 2,880lbs of concrete and a mixer in the bed, a 1,680lb trailer loaded with 3,360lbs of concrete and 2,100lbs of cinder blocks plus yours truly behind the wheel. This all adds up to 16,758 which is as close as we could get to the rated 20,000lb GCWR of the F-250. For a vehicle combo that weighed in at over 8 tons, the F-250 accelerated briskly with not so much as a harsh shift to accompany the linear thrust. Ford cites the extremely low 3.96:1 first gear as the reason take-offs with a heavy trailer are so effortless, after a week in GM’s 2500HD I am inclined to believe Ford (the GM Allison’s first gear is 3.1:1 in comparison). While I would hesitate to call the F-250 fast (our tester ran to 60 in 9.0 seconds), adding a few tons in the bed does little to dampen the feeling of the vehicle. Turbo lag is almost absent, unusual for a large diesel V8 which makes the Ford diesel feel faster than the GM despite the GM 2500HD running to 60 slightly faster.

Owners that frequently haul large loads will appreciate the amount of control Ford allows over the new 6 speed automatic transmission. In addition to the requisite “full-manual” control you can also limit the gear range, or just cause the dash-display to show your current gear, a feature I found particularly handy. It’s these small features that make the Ford F-250 a great work companion, the integrated step in the tailgate, auxiliary switches in the dash for your electrical equipment, and a wide variety of Ford warranted accessories to choose from. As this is essentially a new transmission for Ford, reliability is an unknown especially with the stump-pulling torque the Scorpion V8 can dish out.

During our week with the F-250 we averaged 18.2MPG, slightly higher than our week with a similarly configured Ram 2500 and GMC 2500HD under similar conditions. The downside to the Ford diesel’s mileage numbers is that the Ford is the only three-quarter-ton truck that uses urea injection to reduce NOx emissions adding an extra layer of expensive and complexity to the picture. That being said, when the job is finished, it’s hard to go wrong with the F-250. The combination of class-leading power, excellent payload numbers and the often-lauded Ford SYNC system, the F-250 is a great truck to drive to work every day, whether that’s in the city or on a construction site.

Readers who are following TTAC on Facebook were given the opportunity to ask reader questions of the F-250. If you would like to ask questions of car reviews in progress, or just follow TTAC, checkout our facebook page. FB fans, here are your answers: David B: The transmission is a willing dance partner. Soren L: Fairly long. Richard S: Urea consumption is hard to figure, I am told that you should estimate an additional 2% on-top of diesel to compensate for the urea. Jake T: better; you run over the baddies. Tony J: Nope, this diesel is totally smoke-free and the exhaust doesn’t even really smell “diesel.”

Ford provided the vehicle, insurance and one tank of diesel for this review.

While my invitation to the media burnout fest musta been lost in the mail, I attended a regional ride/drive event to cover the four new engines in the 2011 Ford F-150 as compared to some of its domestic competition. The afternoon included a fairly-lame autocross, a (short) drag strip and real world tests, unladen and towing. The product specialist made a point to ask everyone to tell their friends about this event. Luckily for Ford, I got a lot of people to tell.

Chevy Silverado Z71 (5.3L, 6AT): The Z71 Chevy used to be a serious 4WD off-road package, but now it can be a knobby tired, softly sprung PreRunner rig. Which shows the Blue Oval Boys stacking the cards in their favor, earning a wag of my finger. The Z71 was terrible on the autocross, but I brake torqued my way (3.73 gears?) to a dead heat with an EcoBoost at the drag strip. Irrelevant, as the drag strip was short and sweet, though I preferred the throttle tip in of the Chevy from a standstill in our mini-road course. Lose the Z71, add a little more Z06 under the hood and FoMoCo could be in trouble.

Dodge Ram 1500 (5.7L, 5AT): The “Big Horn” edition Ram was perfectly respectable in every performance metric, with more midrange V8 lust than the 5.3L Chevy and feeling similar to the 5.0L Ford. But I suspect, in the real world, the impressive horsepower isn’t up to par when stuck with Dodge’s 5-speed automatic. It’s still a nice truck, but here’s proof that continuous improvement isn’t just for cars.

Ford F-150 V6 (3.7L, 6AT): this six-banger is the reincarnation of the powerful, efficient and legendary Ford straight-six. I noticed the rumbly exhaust at first, then the 7000rpm tach with no redline markings. The new motor’s lusty midrange was expected with variable valve timing, but the tach ran through its full range of motion. That’s right, an $18,000-ish truck can rev to 7000rpm and bring a smile to one’s face. The lightweight cammer Ford was (obviously) soft on the bottom end, has the lowest tow ratings, but is far and away the most exciting truck I’ve experienced in years. Maybe its because Paul and I both love I-6 Fords (his small-six from 1966, my 1994 big-six), but the vast majority of TTAC readers want this mill in their rig.

F-150 5.0L (6AT): the last 5.0 was a joke compared to it’s faster/stronger/cheaper 4.9L straight-six brother, but this is a respectable mid-range motor, more grunt than the 3.7L with a great sound for not much extra coin. And compared to the outgoing 4.6L trucks, Dearborn gave us a reason to believe that multi-cam V8s have a place in big trucks: depending on the EPA’s final judgment, the HEMI and 5.3L Chevy have their work cut out for them. Safe!

F-150 6.2L (6AT): Though a top option with BOSS 429-esque valve covers, a macho engine note and impressive grunt that sounds like da bomb, an overweight (iron) 6.2L big block motor has no business in a nimble, streetwise F-150. Crotch-rocket aficionados say the same about Harley Davidson’s V-twin in modern bikes, which explains why this motor is standard in the Harley-fettled F-150. That said, I adore this BOSS-wannabe, and eagerly await my first test in a workhorse F-250: the Powerstroke diesel’s premium might be in trouble. But the F-150? Not so much.

F-150 EcoBoost (3.5L, 6AT): The “Eco-Brick” certainly appeals to urban cowboys and status seekers in the flyover states. Gutsy move, but the numbers don’t lie: there’s plenty of low end grunt with a gentle turbo whistle, taking much needed weight off the nose for the best autocross performance of the bunch. And while our mini-drag race test wasn’t a slam-dunk win, the EcoBoost mill would destroy the competition if it ran through more than one gear.

But truck users whose actions create America’s collective pickup forklore might be unimpressed: over load/under maintain the beast and I see a well worn, multiple owner, Eco-Brick F-150 eating turbos in less than 200,000 miles. Respectable for the sludge-factories from VW and Audi, but that might as well be pickup brand management suicide.

Conclusions: I’d buy Ford’s base V6, XLT trimmings, start praying for a MidBox option and research how to use a sawzall/welder to lower the bed rails to a usable height. Then again, there’s no good “bed” on the market, so I doubt I’d even consider a comparable Chevy or Dodge.

And while a ride and drive is no substitute for real seat time, Ford eclipsed the competition with upscale interiors stocked with full color gauge displays and great ICE systems, decent suspensions, 6-speed transmissions across the board for respectable fuel economy (or so they promise) and a blizzard of configurations.

More to the point, this is a slam-dunk of a mid-cycle refresh. If only we could peer into the future, checking out Texas’ Craigslist ads from the year 2025: if a fully depreciated Ford sells for more than a Chevy counterpart, the circle shall be complete.

We’ve seen the sequence too many times before. Enthusiasts beg GM and Ford to offer their international products in the U.S. They offer one. It fails to sell. It gets canceled. Nevertheless, Ford plans to replace its entire small-to-midsize lineup with vehicles developed in and primarily for Europe. So this time it had better work out. First up: the subcompact Fiesta.

In hatchback form, the Fiesta is the segment’s best-looking car. There’s a lot going on, but none of the numerous eye-catching details warrants a “WTF?” The exterior’s complex curves meld to form a well-proportioned, cohesive whole. I could study the rear quarters for days. In “lime squeeze” or “yellow blaze” (the “blue flame” of the tested car isn’t the best choice) the athletic egg screams, “Let’s play.” Unlike with Detroit’s previous attempt at a playful small car, the original Dodge Neon, there’s also sophistication to spare. Good thing, because Euro-market cars cannot be profitably sold at Neon prices.

The relatively upscale aesthetics continue inside the Fiesta, though the materials don’t all keep pace and the silver plastic has been laid on a bit thick. The padded armrests on the doors and the contrasting piping and stitching on the optional leather seats are nice touches. Unfortunately, style in some cases trumps function. Sure, SYNC is a big plus, but the audio controls bring the unintelligibility of iDrive to the masses (I gave up). And the decidedly non-premium HVAC controls are a stretch. A first in my experience: there are no manual door locks. If the battery dies or a power lock actuator fails, how can you lock the car? (Pulling on an interior door handle unlocks the door even with the power out.)

The laid back windshield forces a deep IP, which distances the driver from the road. But, despite the small windowlettes ahead of the doors, you’re still clearly piloting a conventional car rather than an MPV. It helps that the A-pillars seem thinner and less intrusive than most these days, and that the driving position is lower than the segment average. The raked beltline and tall rear headrests impair rearward visibility, but not dreadfully so. Standard spotter mirrors more than compensate. The front seats pass muster, though enthusiasts will wish for more lateral support.

The price of the athletic exterior: an adult-unfriendly rear seat. The cushion is low, and you’ll find more knee room in some sports cars. (Unexpected consolation prize: rear reading lights.) The cargo area is similarly much less commodious than in a Honda Fit, though there’s a little more space behind the rear seat than in the related Mazda2.

Over on Ford’s UK site, you’ll find the Fiesta’s 120-horsepower 1.6-liter four described as “mighty.” But then the range across the ponds starts with a 60-horsepower 1.2-liter. Even fresh from a 100-horsepower Mazda2, “mighty” didn’t cross my mind when driving the Fiesta. To give credit where credit is due, the Ford’s 1.6 revs with more verve and zing than the Mazda’s smoother 1.5, and thanks to a plumper midrange doesn’t sink into a hole when you shift from first to second. But power is still adequate at best by American standards. “At best” meaning AC off and no incline. Turn on the AC and the engine loses its will to rev.

Both transmissions need a re-think. With the five-speed manual, shift throws are long, the gaps between ratios are overly wide given the torque-to-weight ratio, and the upshift light soon proves annoying. The “PowerShift” six-speed dual-clutch automated manual (think VW’s DSG, but with less expensive, lower maintenance dry clutches) could have been a high point. But while this transmission makes the most of the not-so-mighty engine, and enables top-notch EPA numbers (29/40), its overly frequent shifts lack finesse. A manual mode would help, but—in a first for this sort of transmission—none is offered. Consider this the first but not last clue that driving enthusiasts haven’t been invited to this Fiesta.

All of the above I could live with, as long as the chassis delivers on the promises made by the sheetmetal. Despite glowing initial reviews, in final production tune it doesn’t. Compared to the related Mazda2, the Fiesta is soft, even squishy. Especially when paired with the SE’s 15-inch Kumho tires, the electric-assist steering feels relatively dull and imprecise. Twitch the wheel one way and then the other, and the car wobbles as delayed reactions trip over one another while working their way through the chassis. In curves, the Kumhos plow early and often. The SES’s stiffer, grippier 16-inch Hankooks (still not ideal treads) delay the onset of understeer, but even with them the Fiesta doesn’t quite come alive. Granted, the average American driver will notice nothing amiss. But for anyone with an interest in driving, the Fiesta’s handling falls short of (admittedly high) expectations.

What your average American driver will notice: a smooth, refined, quiet ride. The Mazda2 doesn’t ride badly, but the Fiesta is a Lexus in comparison, especially on the highway. The exterior promises a driving experience that is both athletic and upscale. The chassis might fail to deliver on the former, but certainly does on the latter.

So, can the latest Euro Ford make it on this side of the Atlantic? Well, if Americans prioritized functionality and handling we’d be awash in tautly suspended compact wagons. As it is, Ford won’t even be offering the new Focus wagon here. Sharp styling, an upscale ambiance, handling tuned to keep inexperienced drivers alive, a plush ride, and iWhatever connectivity matter more, and the Fiesta delivers these. So it will likely succeed where the Merkur, Astra Lemans, Contour, Catera, G8, and Astra redux (have I forgotten any?) failed. Which would be fitting, because a European Ford has done well here before: the original Fiesta.

I’d prefer more power and a roomier back seat, so I’ve personally been looking forward to the similarly styled, one-size-larger 2012 Focus. But after driving the Fiesta I’m worried. Please, Ford, don’t muck up the handling.

Frank Cianciolo, an excellent salesperson at Avis Ford in Southfield, MI, provided the car for this review. Frank can be reached at 248-226-2555.

Michael Karesh owns and operates TrueDelta, an online source of automotive pricing and reliability data.

After driving the Chevrolet Camaro SS for a couple of days, and enjoying the experience much less than I expected to, I began to question my expectations. Perhaps having the Lexus IS-F for a week had unfairly put the Chevrolet in a bad light? After all, the IS-F was twice the price and a Lexus, so of course the Detroit Oshawa, Ontario iron seemed coarse in comparison. The obvious test: a 2011 Mustang GT 5.0.

Back in the early 1980s, when my pre-license self lusted after both cars, the Mustang wasn’t as sexy as the Camaro. And it still isn’t. The Ford has never been as low to the ground or as sleek, and even after the 2010 nip-tuck excessive rear overhang mucks up the car’s proportions. But even if the car isn’t beautiful, it’s handsome, and it’s clearly a Mustang. Which cuts both ways. As with a Harley-Davidson, you either want one or you don’t.

The 2010 refresh did take the Mustang’s interior up a notch or two. Though still not “premium” (despite the trim level), there are enough soft-touch bits assembled with sufficient precision to not seem far beneath the mid-thirties price tag. Perhaps to enforce one of Baruth’s rules, the steering wheel’s thick plastic spokes continue all the way to the outer edge of the rim. You won’t be resting a thumb. But neither will you be comfortably gripping the wheel at 9 and 3.

Another consistent difference since at least the early 1980s: you sit much higher relative to the instrument panel in the Mustang. Perhaps even a little too high—I’m far from tall, but would never use the power height adjustment in this car. This driving position detracts from the car’s perceived sportiness, but greatly aids forward visibility and shrinks the car’s perceived size. In the past the Mustang has sometimes had a more usable rear seat than the Camaro. This time around they’re about equally useless. The Ford’s trunk is a little larger, though, and its opening isn’t constricted.

For at least the last quarter-century the Mustang has always been about its engine, with the rest of the car just along for the ride. The big news for 2011 is of course the return of the 5.0-liter V8. Which is actually 5.0 liters (and not 4.942) this time around. I remember the first 5.0. I actually came close to buying that 5.0 in the mid-80s (but couldn’t have lived with the handling). This is not that 5.0—it’s so much better. I remember salivating when Ford extracted 200 horsepower from the old engine; I even had my father buy a Lincoln Mark VII LSC with one under the hood. The new 5.0 is good for 412.

I frankly don’t care which car is quickest in the quarter. I care about how the powertrain sounds and feels when driven as aggressively as public roads permit. Because that’s where I drive. I cringed when taking the Camaro near the redline. In contrast, runs to 7,000 rpm in the 2011 Mustang GT are pure joy. Though the engine retains some of the traditional American V8 rumble and roar—for the consituency—it’s a thoroughly up-to-date DOHC design, and when opened up it sounds and feels like one. As Baruth attested, big buck German V8s have little or nothing on this powerplant. It’s thrillingly powerful, surprisingly smooth, and the noise you hear you want to hear. And when you don’t want to hear it, it’s quieter.

Ford designed the variable intake and valvetrain for a broad powerband. Compared to the Camaro, the rush starts lower and runs higher—there are nearly another 1,000 rpm between the torque peak and the power peak. The dyno charts might suggest otherwise, but the Ford V8 feels punchier at low rpm. The Mustang’s lower curb weight—3,605 vs. 3,860 lbs.—contributes.

Though still not among the best, the Mustang’s shifter (finally attached to a six-speed manual) is considerably slicker than that in the Camaro. Smooth shifts occur by default. Instead, the drivetrain’s weak link is at the far end. In a severe challenge to logic, Ford has installed a first-rate variable-everything DOHC V8 into a car with a live rear axle. Ford claims they ditched the independent rear suspension with which the platform was originally endowed (in Lincoln LS form) for cost reasons. But this is a $35,000+ car. Mustang buyers are apparently willing and able to spend $495 for shiny wheels. They wouldn’t spend a similar amount for a rear suspension capable of keeping cool under duress? Perhaps $500 would be a deal killer for those buying the base V6 with nothing else. But Ford has offered IRS as an alternative in the past, and on a platform not originally designed for one.

There are no shortage of apologists for the live rear axle. I don’t doubt that it comports itself just fine on the track. But, as I said, I don’t do my driving on a track. I drive on Michigan roads. I can dodge the potholes, but the lumpiness is all over. Lay the power down on wavy pavement, and the rear end wants to go every direction but straight and level. The sensation is not unlike that in an overpowered front-wheel-drive car, just with the drunken dancing happening at the other end. The untoward motions aren’t hard to control, but confidence is not inspired. In contrast, the Camaro’s far more balanced and composed chassis feels like it could handle another few hundred horsepower without breaking a sweat.

One caveat: I drove a Mustang with the base, 18-inch wheels (and yet also with the optional 3.73 rear end). Order the 19s and Ford throws in a front strut tower brace. The two together no doubt improve the handling and steering feel, but likely do little or nothing to chill out the rear end. The standard brakes are sufficient for off-track driving in the flatlands. For the track or the hills, or just to know it’s there, get the Baruth-inspired (but not Baruth-approved) Brembo Package.

Even with the live axle, the Mustang does have some clear advantages over the Camaro in the handling department. Its steering is a little more communicative and feels much more responsive and agile. It’s a slightly smaller car, and between the driving position and this steering feels like a much smaller car. It’s more lively—in good ways as well as bad. To put things in the simplest terms—and I flat out forgot this word when writing my Camaro review—the Mustang is more fun.

The Mustang doesn’t ride as smoothly as the Camaro, but it’s still far from punishing. Detroit has figured out how to improve handling without killing the ride. Now it’s the turn of some Asian manufacturers.

Delving a bit further into my past, my friends and I watched Gilligan’s Island nearly every day after school. I’ve never seen the appeal of Ginger. It’s always been Mary Ann for me. If you lean the same way, then you’ll prefer the Mustang over the Camaro. It doesn’t have the flashy concept car looks, but it comes across as a much better fit for real life, while still being attractive. It’s also more fun. Remember Ginger smiling? I don’t either. Bonus: aside from the rear suspension, the Mustang is also much more refined. For once the usual trade-off between refinement and driving enjoyment doesn’t apply.

Yes, Sajeev advised people to wait until Ford adds direct injection, which should add 20-30 horsepower, bump the EPA ratings a digit or two, and quicken responses. But compared to the differences between last year’s 4.6-liter V8 and the new 5.0, these are hardly worth mentioning, much less waiting for. An independent rear suspension would be a different story, but none is even rumored. The time to tell people to wait was last year.

Frank Cianciolo, an excellent salesperson at Avis Ford in Southfield, MI, provided the car for this review. Frank can be reached at 248-226-2555.

Michael Karesh owns and operates TrueDelta, an online source of automotive pricing and reliability data.

Okay, everybody, take out your old Waitresses or Bouncing Souls songbooks, and sing along with me:

I know what girls like
I know what chicks want
I know what girls like
Girls like
…the Ford Edge.

Ford’s rolled 400,000 Edges out the door since the model was introduced five years ago. For reasons I cannot understand, it completely obliterated the Flex and the Freestyle/Taurus X at dealerships, outselling them combined by a factor of two or three in most months. Half of the Edges sold are registered to women, which likely means that far more than half of them were selected by, and are driven by, women. According to Ford, among buyers in this segment, “styling” ranks as the #5 reason to buy a vehicle, but Edge buyers rank “styling” as the number one reason they chose one.

So here’s the new one. Ford has made a solid effort to address the Edge’s shortcomings. It has more power, less weight (in some models), better brakes, and a much higher-quality interior. The dynamic package is significantly improved, and I had the chance to test that in a literally life-threatening situation, as we’ll see below. None of this will matter too much to the Coach-bag set, however. They’ll be blown-away by the new “myFord Touch” system… and if you care at all about the state of in-car electronics, you will be, too.

Welcome to the future. You’re looking at an analog speedometer (digital, of course, under the skin) and two full-color LCD screens that reconfigure on the fly, sometimes without your direct input, to provide information on everything from the name of that Larry Carlton track you’re hearing on SIRIUS “Watercolors” to the precise ratio of front/rear torque being delivered by the all-wheel-drive system under heavy cornering load.

The center screen is no less interesting. It’s almost endlessly customizable to meet your particular needs and it will overload you with data and gee-whiz graphics if you’re not careful. It was impossible to understand the full range of myFord Touch’s capabilities in a quickie press event, but here’s just one entirely factual scenario: You’re driving down a freeway. With the sweep of a finger, you’re visually browsing album covers to select tracks. On the left side of your speedometer is a full selection of instant fuel-economy data; on the right side, you’re browsing the contact directory on your phone. Your passenger is using the absolutely button-less center stack to “haptically” select temperature, and she’s also surfing the web on her laptop. Your rear-seat passengers are surfing as well, using the local WiFi network enabled by the Sprint WiFi USB “dongle” that’s plugged in next to your iPod. You touch the screen and are rewarded with a 3-D view of your destination city, including visually accurate depictions of individual buildings. You check and see that the weather looks good ahead and that your favorite movie is playing at 6:45pm. That gives you time to take a fast back road, so you take the next off-ramp and squeeze the downshift paddle behind the steering wheel… at which point the left-side display on your dashboard collapses and is replaced with a tachometer, shift-point indicator, and temperature gauge. You touch a control and the “dial” tach becomes a vertical-instrument tach, in the style of an WWII aircraft, and the space where the tach was is replaced by a torque-vectoring diagram. Time to hustle.

On the way to Ford’s “break stop”, I drove the FWD 3.5L Limited seen in the top photo. It’s noticeably faster and more tied-down than last year’s Edge, thanks to more power, bigger rear brakes, and a variety of minor friction and valving improvements in the front suspension. On the way back, I selected the 305-horse 3.7 Sport AWD. The extra 200cc of the Sport just about makes up for the extra weight of the AWD system and the “stunna” 22-inch forged wheels. Incidentally, this year’s Edge AWD is 40 pounds lighter than last year’s — good, if rare, news nowadays.

It’s raining with almost Biblical fury and although visibility is good, the amount of standing water on the road has slowed most traffic significantly. I’m hammering back to the hotel (readers of yesterday’s Accent review will understand why) with all available speed. Ahead of me, a long, empty dotted-yellow stretch of road… with an 18-wheeler doing 30mph up the hill. I pull into the left lane and accelerate to fifty or sixty. In many states, they won’t run a dotted-yellow past an intersection, but Tennessee does. I don’t think anything of it, since the intersection is empty, but then an old S-10 Blazer arrives at the crossroads and, without looking, simply whips directly into my path. The driver looks me right in the eye from fifty feet away and freezes like a deer, her foot full on the throttle, her cell phone falling from her left hand. There’s a gap between the S-10 and the semi-truck, with standing water shimmering menacingly. I relax my fingertips and steer lightly for the gap. With a “swoosh” I am past them both, the Edge placed less than an inch from my desired line. I look over at the passenger seat. My co-driver is reading his iPhone, completely undisturbed. “Did that woman just pull in front of us?” he inquires.

“As Felipe Massa would say… for sure.”

This is not to say that the Edge is perfect. It’s hard to understand why anybody would have chosen the previous Edge over the Flex, which offers more room, better steering, better ride, similar fuel economy, and a nicer interior for about the same money. I would continue to choose a Flex or — ssssshhhh! — a Taurus X over this Edge. If you’re shopping elsewhere, a Chevrolet Traverse also offers more room than the Edge for less money, and the Honda Crosstour is vastly cheaper with a very similar interior-packaging result. Toyota’s Venza also offers a less expensive alternative that’s bigger inside. It would also be remiss of us not to mention the fact that virtually everybody who chooses a vehicle of this type would be better-served by an actual family sedan.

Better-served, yes, but no family sedan has anything like the Edge’s panache, styling, solid feel, or super-tech interior. If you want to make a $40,000 statement of pure stylistic intent, this is your ride. The improvements in ride, handling, fuel economy (which is class-leading now and likely to be more so once the 2.0L Ecoboost arrives) and dashboard feel don’t really matter. When your neighbor sits in your 2011 Edge, hears you demand stock prices via voice control, and watches you “swish” album covers around on the main screen, how you do think she’s going to feel about her Honda Crosstour’s Commodore-64 nav screen and frumpy-ass 18″ alloys? I thought so. Ladies, your Edge is waiting.

Reviving a legendary nameplate inevitably invites comparisons. As is often the case, those for the new 2010 Ford Taurus SHO have not been favorable. Judging from reviews, forum postings, and (I’ll predict) the comments below, the 2010 lacks whatever made the original legendary. Well, I drove the original SHO back in 1989. And now I’ve driven the 2010 for a week. For better or worse, the similarities outweigh the differences. So, what’s missing in the SHO’s revival?

Yes, the 2010 Taurus SHO, while strikingly handsome, is notoriously BIG. At a glance it looks large. Then you walk up to it and realize that the unusual height of the car—like its Five Hundred antecedent essentially a crossover in sedan form—disguises just how large it is. The new Taurus is even larger than it looks. The 1989 SHO was far smaller, about the size of the today’s Fusion. And yet the old SHO was larger than imported midsize sedans back in the day. The 2010 SHO isn’t easily distinguishable from a Taurus Limited. Guess what? The 1989 was similarly criticized.

The interior of the 2010 SHO is the most stylish yet in a Taurus. Faint praise, perhaps, but the center stack sweeps cleanly back into a prominent center console much like it does in some very upscale sedans…and the new Buick LaCrosse. Unconvincingly faux upholstered door panels—they’re hard to the touch, and look it—leave room for Lincoln. Because of this and some other sub-premium details, the 2010’s interior isn’t quite that expected inside a $38,000 (and up) car. And yet it comes closer than the 1989’s did. The original SHO’s shoddily assembled, disjointed interior was less competitive aesthetically even by the much lower standards of its era. On the other hand, the layout and design of the 1989’s various controls approached ergonomic perfection. The dramatic center stack in the 2010 places the buttons towards the top well out of reach.

The 1989 SHO’s relatively large exterior enabled a roomy interior. Too roomy for my taste—I couldn’t quite connect with the car partly because it felt a little loose around the elbows. The 2010 Taurus’s absolutely huge exterior enables…sportier styling. Those seeking an expansive interior should hunt down the far more space efficient 2008-2009 Taurus. The prominent console, bunkerized beltline, and rakish C-pillar all rob the interior of perceived roominess. Yet a personal connection with the new SHO also proves elusive. As in many recent GM products, the instrument panel and base of the windshield are simply too far away. Adding injury to insult, the telescoping wheel is also overly distant even when fully telescoped, forcing a slightly knees-wide driving position.

Befitting the car’s all-around performance aspirations, the original SHO’s front seats were endowed with large adjustable side bolsters. Ford put in less effort (and investment) this time around. The seats differ little from those in the regular Taurus. They’re far too soft and formless for a sport sedan. In turns, the squishy side bolsters give way at the slightest provocation. The SHO’s faux suede center panels help, but do not sufficiently substitute for effective bolsters.

The new SHO’s moderately soft, underdamped standard suspension tuning further suggests that handling was a lower priority this time around. The driving position accentuates the car’s size. The large diameter typical of Detroit’s steering wheels makes the feedback-free steering seem slower than it actually is. On top of this, the chassis feels vague, indecisive, and unresponsive through the seat of one’s pants, as it does in all Fords and Lincolns that share this platform. Fit for family sedan duty, even luxury sedan duty, but not for aggressive driving in anything but a straight line. Roll and understeer aren’t excessive, and grip is decent, but there’s little joy to be had in the twisties. I certainly tried, to the tune of 5.7 MPG during my handling test loop. (The firmer suspension in the optional Performance Package should help, but the 9 to 20 percent changes probably aren’t large enough to make a dramatic difference.) In the 2010 SHO’s defense, it does provide a smooth and quiet (if sometimes insufficiently settled) ride.

The 1989 SHO felt much firmer, though still short of agile. Its 1980’s Detroit-style oversprung sport suspension was blessed with all of the finesse and refinement of a sledgehammer in turns and over bumps. (Ford softened the SHO up in later years.) You paid dearly for the original’s extra firmness, and the car still didn’t handle all that well.

Steering feel? Even two decades later Detroit can’t find it without the aid of a European subsidiary, and 1989 was just a few years out of the Dark Ages when spinning the wheel with a single fingertip was the ideal. The steering in the original Taurus was far better than any Ford had offered in a North American sedan before, but its feel and weighting were both somewhat odd.

The 2010 can be paired only with a six-speed automatic, albeit one shiftable via paddles (but not via the lever). The 1989 was offered only with a Mazda-supplied five-speed manual transmission, a sure sign of its superior purity. Unfortunately, in practice the shifter and clutch were even less congenial than the suspension.

So why the mystique of the original? Let’s recall what the letters SHO stand for: “super high output.” To earn this moniker, a car needs neither efficient packaging nor agile handling. In fact, it needs only one thing: a stonking powerplant. Ultimately, the SHO’s plot was simple: decent car, outstanding engine. The year the wall fell 220 horsepower from a 3.0-liter V6 easily qualified. After all, the “H.O.” V8 in that year’s Mustang GT cranked out only five more. The regular Taurus got by with 140.

Does the new car’s powerplant qualify? The turbocharged 3.5-liter V6’s 365 horsepower, a 102-horspower bump over the regular Taurus, would seem to render it worthy. At 4,400 lbs., the 2010 SHO might be over a half-ton heavier than the original, but the nearly lag-free “I can’t believe it’s not normally aspirated” engine’s additional oomph more than compensates. After a slightly sluggish start (first gear should be shorter) the new SHO feels very quick, and it’s even quicker than it feels. The standard Haldex-based all-wheel-drive system lacks a rearward bias or active rear differential, so it doesn’t help the car feel more agile. Much more could be done here. But AWD does nearly eliminate the torque steer that afflicted the original SHO. Fuel economy is high teens in typical suburban driving and can reach 25 on the highway, quite good considering the car’s power and mass.

So, with the engine’s output suitably high, what’s really missing from the 2010 SHO? Well, to start with, the quality of power delivery. Back in 1989 the zing of a fine DOHC engine was still fresh, and they didn’t come finer or zingier than the Yamaha-developed and –supplied V6 until Acura introduced V-TEC in the far more expensive NSX a year later. This was a sweet, sweet motor. In contrast, the new SHO’s EcoBoost V6 shares the regular 3.5’s pedestrian soundtrack and languid reactions to throttle inputs. Count on Ford to make the experience of 365 horsepower seem almost ordinary. I’ve never been more bored driving such a powerful car. The far more engaging (but also far more punishing) Acura TL SH-AWD suggests what might have been if the SHO had been gifted with a singing voice, handling-oriented AWD system, and razor sharp responses.

Then there’s the appearance of the engine. Ask a 1989 SHO owner for his favorite photo of the car, and it will likely be one of the engine. Crowned with a dozen interwoven satin silver-finished metal (yes, real metal) intake runners, the 1989’s engine looked even more special than it felt. A relic of the engine’s originally intended destination amidships a canceled sports car? Certainly an engine this beautiful couldn’t have been created with the Taurus in mind. Imagine discovering the legs of a dancer beneath a nun’s habit. (No, not a real nun, you’re not that sick.) Finding this beauty beneath the hood of a Taurus was even more of a pleasant surprise. Open the hood of the 2010 SHO, and you’ll also be surprised, but in the opposite direction. Black plastic abounds. You’ll find more visual thrills beneath the hood of an Aspire. (No, not a pink Aspire, you’re not that sick.)

So, mystery solved. The 2010 Ford Taurus SHO is huge, and it doesn’t engage or entertain on a curvy road. But Detroit ruled with this “stylish, big, quiet, soft, and fast” formula in the past, and Lexus has found that a healthy market continues to exist for such a car. What’s more, the original SHO achieved automotive sainthood despite larger sins. So what does the 2010 truly need that it doesn’t have? An engine that can smile pretty for the camera and sing, and not just dance.

Ford provided the vehicle, insurance and one tank of gas for this review.

Michale Karesh owns and operates TrueDelta, an online source of automotive pricing and reliability data.

If you read my Mustang GT introduction and Performance Pack on-track test articles, you know that I am an unabashed fan of the 2011 Mustang GT. On a road course, it is very probably the fastest normally-aspirated ponycar in history; it’s certainly the best-conceived, best-assembled, and most satisfying ponycar I’ve ever had the pleasure of driving.

The 2011 Shelby GT500 hasn’t received quite the amount of media attention devoted to its five-liter little brother, but it is packing two significant upgrades. There’s an SVT Performance Pack, which includes larger forged-aluminum wheels, revised suspension settings, a 3.73 axle ratio, and a unique Goodyear F1 Supercar tire. Ford has also taken advantage of a unique “Plasma Transferred Wire Arc” process to create an aluminum 5.4-liter V8 that makes 550 horsepower, ten more than last year’s iron-block monster. The payoff is a 120-pound weight savings.

Lighter, stronger, better-handling. Let’s go to the track.

The GT500 was made to hunt Corvettes on a dragstrip or road course. This image, one of just a few captured by our “Flip” camera before it self-destructed at one hundred and thirty-eight miles per hour or thereabouts before the famous “Kink” at Nelson Ledges Road Course, shows one of the highlights of a dogfight we had with a NASA ST1-prepared Corvette. 440 horsepower at the rear wheels, big Hoosier slicks, and a competent driver. In the end, he wrung out about a 1.5-second-per-lap advantage on us, but he was sufficiently impressed by the Shelby to stop by and ask how it handles on-track.

My answer was, “Very well.” The bespoke Goodyears don’t quite deliver a Hoosier’s worth of grip, but they do have one R-compound-like trait: the gap between squeal and slide is fairly small. I’d require an identical-car test to make sure, but I’m of the initial opinion that they are probably very close to the Michelin Pilot Sport Cup in terms of overall dry-weather performance.

After our exploratory first session with photographer Neil Switzer on-board, the Shelby never again had to yield for anything short of a true race car. Street Corvettes, STis, EVOs, M3s, and the like were mere snacks for the gaping grille. The 2010 GT500 had a far more “pointable” front end than its predecessor; the 2011 offers a similar improvement. Yes, it understeers; every production car does. With that said, it doesn’t understeer much and it more or less matches its five-liter sibling in steering feel and feedback.

Power from the supercharged engine is solid, delivered in unsurprising fashion across a broad band, and very subject to heat soak on our ninety-two-degree Ohio day. The Cobra’s best laps were its first few, before the tires could cook and the brakes could fade.

And do they ever fade. I complained about the brakes in the 5.0 GT not being up to the car’s raw speed potential. These are the same calipers, pulling back the reins on an additional one hundred and forty horsepower. It was necessary to completely change my braking philosophy, often “coasting in” briefly before stabbing the pedal all the way to the floor and over-dialing steering for an initial slowing effect. As a result, the GT500 isn’t nearly as kind to its tires on a road course as the 5.0. A change in pads and fluid would bring the Brembos up to snuff for light track day work, and I’m sure most owners will make the change.

When they do, they will discover what a pussycat the GT500 is on a racetrack. Seriously. I’ve never driven a car with this kind of pace, particularly a RWD-only car, that was so easy to operate. There are no surprises. Nelson Ledges is famous for the washboard surface used for braking after the “Kink”. It’s not uncommon for cars to loop out there with very little provocation, as shown by yours truly below in my NASA Performance Touring Neon:

The Mustang is flawless in this zone despite the solid rear axle. There’s a bit of hop-and-skip, but the rear end never threatens to come around. This is a well-sorted car. We turned AdvanceTrac off from the first session on and never had cause to regret it. The GT500 requires no electronic babysitter; the inherent stability of a big, heavy (though not as heavy as previously) engine serves as the paperclip on the nose of this particular paper airplane, and the well-damped suspension ensures that the body never acquires enough motion above the tires to cause difficulty. A solid throttle foot will assist in turning the car during slow corners but that’s more for show than go.

The GT500 is wonderfully track-ready, but most of them will never see a road course. To display the car in an alternate light, I took it to the ComFest in Columbus, Ohio and exposed it to a crowd of hippies. I would like to tell you that they cheered as I smoked the tires all the way through second gear, a block away from the Natural Hemp Products booth, but the curses and thrown objects seemed rather half-hearted. Perhaps they are Ford fans in the making. The stunning, perfectly tanned young woman who took me in her pedicab from my parking space to the concert area smiled with approval at the SVT-Pack-unique narrow stripes and black wheels, pronouncing the car “kind of neat”. This, from a woman who rides a bicycle for a living.

It’s impossible not to like the GT500, even if you’re a alterna-chick who probably considers the Prius a wasteful use of the planet’s nickel supply. It’s an unashamed love letter from Ford’s SVT division to traditional America, Friday nights, and pretty girls in halter tops reclining against the Cobra-emblem fender. I’d like to own one myself. I’d fix the brakes and see if I could get the “Shelby” crap off the car. This is an SVT product and it deserves to be badged as such. With all respect to the chicken farmer and his long legacy of suing everybody from his friends to his fans, there’s no reason to have the Shelby name on this Mustang. SVT Cobra should suffice.

There is one tiny problem. All the improvements over the 5.0 GT are worth having, except perhaps the supercharged engine. Even with the improvements, the blown 5.4 simply doesn’t shine against the standard 5.0 the way it did versus the three-valve 4.6. My perfect Mustang has all the goodies from the Shelby — the SVT performance pack, the forged wheels, the Alcantara wheel — and a fully-tuned, max-power normally-aspirated V8. No heat soak, no extra weight, no complications. Big V8, revving hard. I’d call it… the Boss.

A year ago, with gas prices high and the survival of the domestic auto companies never more in doubt, the media settled on the Ford Fusion Hybrid as the best evidence that Detroit deserved to survive. Roomy, reliable, economical, and fairly affordable, the FFH seemed to tick off all of the boxes. But what about love?

When the Ford Fusion was originally introduced, its exterior appeared crisply handsome. But that was five years ago. A refresh for the 2010 model year cleaned up the tail lights and enlarged the grille, but did nothing to update the thoroughly conventional three-box profile. Consequently, next to more recently designed sedans, the Fusion looks quite staid and dated. And, aside from multi-spoke alloys that do nothing to add visual excitement, the FFH looks just like the regular Fusion. Toyota’s breakout success with the Prius suggests that car buyers want a hybrid’s exterior appearance to reflect the advanced technology contained within. The virtually invisible FFH utterly fails in this regard.

The story remains the same inside the car. With an exception to be covered later, the Ford Fusion Hybrid’s interior styling is plain to a fault. Neither imagination nor attention to detail appears to have played a role. The engineers might well have phoned it in without even involving the designers. But not the human factors engineers—they would never locate the HVAC controls so low on the center stack. Much of the IP is soft to the touch, yet even with the optional leather upholstery the ambiance suggests “fleet.” Oval-shaped hard plastic door pulls resembling those that provide such a poor first impression when entering a Chevy Cobalt, Revell-worthy interior door levers, and geographically disadvantaged HVAC knobs look and feel especially cheap. One nice touch: white stitching on the black leather seats.

The FFH’s conventional styling pays some benefits. The relatively thin, relatively upright A-pillars and generous greenhouse contribute to excellent forward visibility and a familiar driving position.  As in the regular Fusion, the unfashionably unarched roof-line permits the insufficiently contoured rear seat cushion to be mounted a comfortable height off the floor. Knee room is generous. But, unlike in the regular Fusion, the rear seatback cannot fold to expand the trunk. Which could use some expanding, as the battery pack takes up its forward third. Want a hatch? Well, Ford offers the same powertrain in the Ford Escape Hybrid. Want a hatch with the handling of a car? Then Ford doesn’t have a hybrid for you.

The FFH’s interior appearance does have two bright spots—literally. Unique to the Hybrid, a pair of reconfigurable LCD displays flank the analog speedometer. Precursors to the MyFord Touch instrumentation that will debut in the 2011 Ford Edge, and then spread to many other Ford models, these displays have graphics that are both vibrant and functional. After mucking about with digital displays for a quarter-century, the auto industry has finally figured out how to make them more than a light show.

In the FFH, the reconfigurable capability is used to provide information about the power flows to and from the various powertrain components in multiple alternative formats. The intent: educate the driver how to drive to maximize efficiency. The theory is sound, but in practice, the FFH’s displays aren’t as helpful as the simpler, less colorful displays in the latest Toyota Prius. Unlike in the Prius, there’s no indication of the point in throttle application at which efficiency falls off. There’s also no indication of the point in brake application at which the conventional brakes jump in to assist the regenerative system. The latter would be especially helpful, since the entire point of a hybrid is to recoup the energy used to accelerate the car when braking the car. Use the conventional brakes, and energy that might recharged the battery pack instead heats up the rotors.

Instead, some of the display options indicate how far you can apply the throttle before the engine kicks in. Interesting information, but with no clear connection to maximizing overall fuel economy. This is still a conventional hybrid with limited battery capacity. No matter how you drive the FFH, you’re not going far before the engine has to kick in to recharge the batteries. Another option: vines that grow leaves when you drive efficiently. Rewarding until the novelty wears off, perhaps, but hardly useful feedback.

One thing Ford offers that Toyota does not: a tach. Perhaps I’m just old school, but the tach provided the most useful feedback for me. Keep the engine speed low, and fuel economy goes up. With the tach it’s also clearer how much power remains in reserve.

So how about the Ford Fusion Hybrid’s fuel economy? In suburban driving I generally managed about 42 MPG, about ten fewer than in the smaller, lighter, less powerful Prius. Drive the FFH aggressively, and this drops into the high 20s. More than in the typical hybrid, you might even want to drive this one aggressively. With no powertrain modes to choose from, there’s no “eco mode” that feels sluggish. Drive the FFH like you would a normal car and it feels like…a normal car. Or at least a normal car with a CVT. Aside from engine noise and the instruments, there’s little indication when the FFH switches from all-electric operation to gasoline power. Dip more than halfway into the throttle, and the FFH actually feels quick. Not as quick as a V6-powered Fusion, but definitely quicker than the conventional four. Unfortunately, when pushed, the FFH’s four-cylinder Atkinson cycle engine turns agricultural. The quantity of power delivery is easily sufficient, but the quality of power delivery leaves much to be desired.

It’s not possible to hold the CVT at a fixed ratio—the power-distributing role of a hybrid’s CVT generally precludes this—but shifting into L does bump engine RPM a couple grand. This is primarily intended for engine braking while descending grades, but it can also serve to keep engine response snappy on a twisty road.

The FFH’s handling is good enough that the front seat’s above-average lateral support comes in handy. The electrically-assisted power steering (EPS) is no more communicative than most such systems, but it is fairly quick and nicely weighted. There’s little lean in hard turns, and body motions are tightly controlled. The taut suspension tuning’s downside: a lumpy, unrefined ride, with sharp vertical reactions even to fairly small bumps. Only driving enthusiasts might appreciate this ride-handling trade-off. Are there enough driving enthusiasts who buy hybrids to justify it? Most car buyers will prefer the smoother, quieter, generally more refined Toyota Camry Hybrid (though the TCH’s powertrain operation and chassis have their own shortcomings).

It’s easy to see why the Ford Fusion Hybrid has attracted so much praise, as it ticks off all the right boxes. With very good fuel economy, passenger room, and reliability at a reasonable price, it’s a rational choice. But permit emotions to intrude, and the FFH falls short. The engine’s character will put off enthusiasts, while the ride quality will put off non-enthusiasts. For enthusiasts and non-enthusiasts alike, the Fusion looks boring and feels rough around the edges. As much as there is to like, there’s too little to love. Ford best not infer from the FFH’s awards that it can rest on its laurels. The next Ford Fusion Hybrid needs to be both more refined and more special.

Ford provided an insured vehicle with a full tank of gas.

Michael Karesh operates TrueDelta.com, a provider of car reliability, real-world fuel economy, and price comparison information.

So where were we? Oh yes. After wandering the earth (and working in a call center) for the first few months of 1995, I ended up at a very small Ford dealership located in the heart of Columbus, Ohio. On my first day, I was paired with another fellow who was also starting out at the dealership. I’ll call him… Rodney. He was an outgoing, cheerful thirty-one-year-old man who looked remarkably like the Colt 45-commercial-era Billy Dee Williams. Rodney was very interested in the dealership’s demo program, because he didn’t own a car. Every day he walked from his apartment a mile or so away, and every night he walked back home. The general manager took pity on him and broke the thirty-days-of-service-before-a-demo rule to put him in a Ranger Club Cab.

I started slowly at the dealership but by the time the 1996 model year rolled around I was regularly one of the top two or three guys on the board every month. More importantly, I was the most effective advocate in the shop for the Red Carpet Lease 24-month program. One month I moved 16 units and leased 14 of ‘em. At least three of those were people I’d had to dissuade from writing me a check for the whole car on the spot. That’s right, I converted cash buyers to lessors. Why? There was a fifty-dollar spiff.

I was eventually rewarded for my performance by being permitted to order my own demo, just like the 55-year-old Brylcreemers who had been serving at the store since before ‘Nam. I knew exactly what I wanted. Start with a 1996 Thunderbird LX, black with beige interior. Add just three options: Compact disc player. Power Moonroof. And, most importantly, a 4.6 “mod motor”. The order was accepted at the factory. I was four weeks away from my ‘Bird. But Rodney had some other plans involving Ford’s aging coupe…

I tried to find a decent photo of the ’94-97 T-Bird cockpit, without success. Take my word for it: it was pretty good when it was new. Ford kind of lost interest in the “American Six Series” after 1994. The supercharged, manual-transmission Super Coupe was taken out of the lineup, while both interior and exterior were modified to share more parts with the Mercury Cougar. The 4.6 V8 didn’t really impress in the Mustang, but in the ‘Bird Ford had found a happier marriage of motor and mission. Big, sleek, reasonably fast, and very comfy, the 1996 Thunderbird was a good car at a very fair price. My demo priced out at $21,750 or so, actually slightly cheaper than a Taurus LX with the same equipment would have cost.

Unfortunately, nobody wanted ‘em. Young people wouldn’t be caught dead in an automatic-transmission American coupe, while older people hated the massive doors and the contortions required to lower one’s self into the seats. It was a shame, really, because dynamically this was a decent car. The transmission usually found the right gear and the steering was honest. You could drive these cars really quickly on the right road. Of the cars available to our little dealership, only the Contour SE was usefully faster when the road turned twisty. Remember, the MN12 platform had a very sophisticated rear suspension to hold up all that weight.

Of course, the T-Bird name still meant something to some people. And so it was that the phone rang late one Friday evening at Rodney’s desk. A recently-widowed woman in her early sixties was looking for a car, but she wasn’t comfortable driving at night. Could someone bring her a Thunderbird to examine?

The correct answer would be “No.” Every salesman worth his salt knows to never take a car to a “customer”. Real customers can take a moment out of their lives to make a $20,000 purchase. It’s true for Ferraris and it’s true for Fiestas. But Rodney was bored and he wanted to take the only Bird on our lot home for the night anyway. Why not? On the way out, the general manager said, “Don’t bring that car back unsold. If you do, you’ll pay the price for wasting miles and time.”

He drove twenty miles to the big house set a quarter-mile off the rural road and met the widow at her front door. She was lonely, and if Rodney was half her age and, ahem, somewhat different from her, perhaps the bottle of Chardonnay she’d already half-finished helped her to overcome those minor quibbles. Since TTAC is a family-oriented website, I won’t relate the details of how Rodney attempted to persuade her to buy the Thunderbird without having to look her in the face at the time. The adult reader can work out the details for himself. After an hour or so of these negotiations, the widow pronounced herself completely satisfied and asked Rodney to stay until the morning so she could evaluate the car in the daylight.

More negotiations followed in the morning, but alas, the ‘Bird didn’t catch her fancy quite like Rodney did. Unlike our rather pliant young sales-hero, the Ford provided some arthritis-related complications to entry and exit. She sent Rodney back to the dealership to fetch her a Taurus. Naturally, the boss wasn’t having it and Rodney was grounded from those sorts of missions from then on.

One fine Monday, my ‘Bird arrived on the transporter, just the way I ordered it. The not-so-fine Tuesday that followed, there was an all-hands meeting. The dealership principal’s son, known to all and sundry as “Droopy” for his remarkable resemblance to the cartoon canine of that name, was buying the dealership from his father. Ford Credit was floorplanning the transaction, and they didn’t much care for salespeople driving new-car demonstrators. The used-car manager went to the auction and bought six ex-rental ’94 Tauri to be used as “demos”. Mine was green, with a green interior, and it smelled like the bottom of an ashtray.

Every day the black Bird sat there in the showroom and taunted me. I roped in a fellow who wanted a Crown Vic. Sold him the Bird at invoice. Met him at dinner and handed him the $150 I’d earned as commission on the sale. Got into my crappy rental car and drove home. My wife met me at the door and said the boss had called. Had I seen Rodney? He’d left on a demo drive with a middle-aged woman. Mustang convertible. They were waiting to lock the doors, but Rodney hadn’t returned. Did I have any ideas?

“Nice to see,” I said, “that I’m not the only person around here getting f…”

As I exit Turn Eleven at Summit Point Raceway’s twisty, concrete-lined “Shenandoah” course, I’m confronted with a rare opportunity to put my money where my mouth has been. In a review of the 2011 Mustang GT 5.0, I perhaps foolishly opined that “C5 Z06 pilots will need to find a twisty road lest they be run nose-to-tail down long freeway sprints.” Now I’ve found myself fifty feet behind an enthusiastically-driven C5 Z06, and it’s squatting with full throttle up Shenandoah’s Bridge Straight. This will be a straight drag race, and for extra irony it’s going to occur on a road course. Four tires chirp. Sixteen cylinders sing. Forty to one hundred and ten miles per hour. Up a hill. Was I wrong? Can the mighty five-point-oh hunt for Corvettes?

Yes. It can. At least when said five-point-oh is equipped with the optional 3.73 axle ratio that, along with a pricey set of Brembo front brakes, makes up the entire list of options on our $32,800 test vehicle. No measurable gap appeared between the two cars before both went briefly airborne at the end of the sharply peaked Bridge Straight. Once we landed, the Z06 driver did the sensible thing and signaled for us to pass before the entrance to the Nurburgring-replica Karussell which is Shenandoah’s trademark feature.

The skeptical among you will point out that it’s not perfectly fair for your humble author, a victor of such exalted automotive events as the 2007 24 Hours of LeMons at Flat Rock, to go picking on advanced-group trackday drivers. You may be correct. Still, I think it’s worth noting that I ran a very similar 2010 Mustang GT 4.6 in essentially the same group of drivers last year and found myself Corvette chow every time the track went straight. This five-liter is a different animal: strong from idle to redline and NASCAR-frantic as the needle swings ’round the tach. It’s very nearly the perfect normally-aspirated trackday engine; no surprise, given its close-cousin status to the Ford “Cammer” Daytona Prototype mill.

The rest of the Mustang is, of course, a little less race-ready. The control surfaces in our no-frills model didn’t really please me. Everybody says they want a low-content Mustang GT, the same way that everybody claims to be holding cash in hand for a six-speed biodiesel-powered rear-wheel-drive sport wagon, but the folks who actually buy Mustang GTs buy them with plenty of options. That’s a good idea. Check every box on the form except the fabulous glass roof, since it adds a lot of weight in a very bad place for road-course handling.

The 5.0 was the subject of much trackside discussion this past weekend, most of it focusing on the optional Brembo front brakes. Here’s the best way to think about them: Go look at a Porsche 911 GT3. Evaluate the size of the brakes on that car. Now come back and look at these optional Brembos. Then consider that the Mustang outweighs the GT3 by a few hundred pounds. Get the idea? These aren’t the be-all and end-all of optional brake setups. True racing Mustangs use massive calipers front and rear. These brakes, which are identical to the GT500 stoppers and probably very similar to the items found on the Camaro SS and Challenger SRT-8, aren’t even close to what’s required for heavy-duty track use.

That caveat aside, these aren’t necessarily cosmetic items. Unlike the standard sliding-caliper Mustang front setup, the Brembos will take a genuinely hard lap or two before requiring some rest, and they never cook the brake fluid the way last year’s “Track Pack” pad option did. I added fifty feet of breathing room to my desired braking zones throughout the weekend and never completely ran out of stopping power. That’s good enough for most people, and those of us who want more have many aftermarket options.

The various chassis and aerodynamic improvements Ford touts for 2011 are not easily detected without a back-to-back drive in identical conditions, but the car as I experienced it was more than satisfactory for track rats of all experience levels. The P Zero tires aren’t super-grippy but they communicate honestly. Axle hop under wheelspin is minimal and it’s rare that one is forcibly reminded of the Mustang’s suspension layout. It takes a solid hit to a curb with steering already (mis)dialed-in to really experience the pop-and-slide motion so familiar to CMC racers everywhere.

The AdvanceTrac system has an “intermediate” mode where wheelspin is allowed and some degree of lateral motion can occur before intervention. It’s a pretty good compromise for trackdays. Disabling the whole system, as I did on the second day I drove Shenandoah, reveals a stable yet tossable big car that can be thrown around without fear.

I provided Mustang rides to a wide variety of people over the course of the weekend — attorneys, racers, even a TTAC reader. I believe that all of them stepped out of the car with a healthy respect for what Ford’s accomplished here. Even if you haven’t tracked a Camaro or Challenger and been unimpressed by those cars’ lumbering on-track demeanor, this 5.0 is likely to make a believer out of you. Just don’t brag too much ahead of time to your ‘Vette pals; it’s better to show than it is to tell.

Ford provided the vehicle and insurance for this test. TrackDAZE provided the space on the track and a rather decent lunch for two days. The author is a TrackDAZE instructor and can be requested by novice and intermediate-level drivers at any 2010-season TrackDAZE event.

You can spell favorite both ways – the American way, with a single ‘o’ – and the British way, with a ‘u’ following suit. The Ford Fusion and Ford Mondeo are not unlike this fascinating grammatical phenomenon: they both come from the same manufacturer, and they both answer the equally strong demand for misize cars on both sides of the ocean – but they both differ in execution. Right?

Ford’s last attempt to tempt American customers with a European-derived midsize sedan failed miserably. It was called the Contour (Mondeo in Europe), and it literally fell between the chairs – it wasn’t a proper midsize car by American standards, nor was it a proper compact which residents on the western side of the Atlantic could relate to. The Contour was gone after a few years of dawdling sales, never to return again.

But here we have the newest Ford Mondeo. Introduced in 2007 – and first driven by Agent 007 himself in Casino Royale, no less – it aimed at replacing the humdrum sedan which came before it with a bit more zest, and a lot more size.

While zest can be subjective, there’s definitely no arguing about the sheer size of the Mondeo. It’s no longer a compact-and-a-half – in fact, it trumps the Fusion in every exterior dimension, save for length – in which it’s exactly equal to the domestic sedan. At 112-and-something inches, its wheelbase brushes on the Mercedes E Class’s and its 74 inches of sheer width glance downwards on the S Class itself. Maybe these impressive figures shouldn’t come as a surprise seeing as the Mondeo shares its underpinnings with the Volvo S80.

Even with a quick glance from the outside, almost every inch of these impressive sheet-paper specs is apparent. The Mondeo looks massive, solid, and respectable – you can insert your own row of adjectives here. When it was introduced, Ford went to great lengths to emphasize the new “Kinetic Design Language” that was introduced along with it – see, you’re supposed to imagine the Mondeo moving, even when it’s stuck in harsh London traffic.

The thing is, kinetic design aside, this Euro-sedan ain’t pretty. The front is a good effort, what with its gently-chromed mesh grill (on the top of the line Titanium tester) and two swooping profile lines (say kinetic!) going all the way from the hood to the trunk. On their way over back there, however, something goes terribly wrong. The trunk is flat, looks glued-on and simply doesn’t harmonize with the rest of the car; if you stare long enough at the rear lights you’ll be able to see a kid’s sketch of a car with a huge side windshield. Kinetic windshield, so to speak. As if the complete lack of harmony between front and rear styling wasn’t enough, Ford has chosen to hide the twin exhausts under the cavernous body (why?), making up for that sin with a small diffuser with bullet holes in it.

As far as first impressions go, you’re better off starting with the interior, which manages to make up for the exterior’s disappointments. The build quality is good, and everything seems to be firmly secured in place – the doors are almost too heavy. More importantly, the cabin is a nice place to be – save for the slightly gloomy interior colors. Leather covers the seat bolsters as well as other critical areas and the softer kind of plastic is used generously throughout – and what’s not soft is generally good quality, unless you go touchin’ in hidden areas. The center console comes complete with a brushed aluminum finish which looks and feels good.

Most controls are simple and intuitive, with a logical layout and no excess of buttons. Due to the sheer width of the car, some of the controls – like the climate control panel – can be hard to reach if you’re of smaller proportions. The same goes for the gear lever which is a bit of a stretch for lazier arms. The touchscreen audio system you see in the photos is an aftermarket installation offered as an option by the dealer – the standard car comes with an original Sony stereo. Both are good sounding and easy to use.

There’s ample space in the cabin, too, thanks to the exterior dimensions. Shoulder room is especially impressive – both in the front and back. Four adults will feel comfortable in the Mondeo – both in terms of space and seat comfort. The front seats are, however, too wide for my size and don’t provide enough side bolstering. You can put the trunk on the ‘disappointing’ list as well. At 17.4 cubic feet, it isn’t exactly small – but it’s smaller than what you’d expect – especially while compared to the exterior – and not particularly easy to load due to a slightly raised floor.

My tester was equipped with a four cylinder 2.3 liter gas engine pumping out about 160 horsepower and a six-speed Durashift automatic. If the numbers add up to something familiar, it’s only because they should – the engine is courtesy of Mazda, having served its duty in the previous-generation Mazda3 and Mazda6. This is a large engine by European standards, judging by the Mondeo’s automatic gas-powered competitors which utilize 2.0 and smaller units – but then again, you have to remember this is the rarest Mondeo powertrain in diesel-loving Europe.

160 horsepower don’t sound like overwhelming power in a midsize sedan, and with a weight figure of more than 1.5 tons, it really isn’t. The Mondeo does the standard sprint to 60 in 10.5 seconds, but that’s only telling half the story, because despite the lack of power the engine and transmission combination works quite well, if a bit lacking in the sound department – provided you’re not hurrying anywhere, of course. Shifts are usually smooth, save for downshifts to first gear with manual control, and the engine donates whatever power it has to give in a fairly civilized manner.

The good news is that this engine is history, with the newly-facelifted Mondeo receiving a new 2.0 EcoBoost engine with 203 horsepower, without any cosmetic changes to the exterior. It will also receive Ford’s dual-clutch PowerShift gearbox. Which is just as well, as this Mondeo with a fresh 120 miles on the odometer, exhibited a not-too-impressive fuel consumption figure of just below 19 mpg during combined (if a little aggressive) driving.

It takes only a couple of minutes to realize that the Mondeo’s suspension is tuned to the softer side, and only a few seconds more to appreciate this. Ride quality is excellent with even rough roads failing to break the Mondeo out of its serenity, and yet the car never feels oversprung or floaty. Noticeable winds noises from the A pillar, which start at 70 mph, will be your primary cause for concern during a freeway cruise.

The previous Mondeo’s trump card was its balanced handling, so there was reasonable cause for worry that the many inches and pounds the new Mondeo gathered over the years will affect its athletic capabilities. The answer is twofold: yes, the new Mondeo feels heavier and a bit more disconnected than the previous generation, but it’s still a lot of fun to drive on twisting roads – almost more so than a car of its weight and caliber should.

The Mondeo grips the tarmac quite well and there’s even reasonable feel from the hydraulically-assisted steering. It resists understeer well, but driver provocations will quickly send the hyperactive electronic nanny berserk. The Achilles heels of the Mondeo’s dynamic abilities, like in some genuine American Fords, are the brakes. They border on average in strength, and the pedal feels too mushy and imprecise.

The name Mondeo is derived from the Latin word mundos, meaning world. The third generation Mondeo can finally carry this title in total peace of mind. The Ford Mondeo offers a complete package with a roomy interior, good cabin, excellent dynamic abilities and perhaps most importantly – that solid ‘big car’ feel, without the big car price.

It’s one car which could have been equally enjoyed by people on both sides of the pond, but instead Ford is waiting for the next-generation Mondeo to launch as a global car, like it recently did with the Focus. Judging by the quality of the effort on this sedan, I’d say they have a good chance of making it work.

Ford provided the vehicle, insurance and one tank of gas for this review

This review brought to you by icar.co.il