2014 C7 Corvette: Evolutionary, not revolutionary

Photo credit: Autoblog.com

Let me begin this post by making my opinion on the C7 readily apparent, so that there is no chance for confusion.
 I think the C7 Corvette is a thing of beauty. Even as a hardcore Porschephile, I wouldn’t think twice about plunking down my hard-earned hypothetical money for a bright red C7 in lieu of a 991 Carrera. Simply put, the C7’s performance-per-dollar ratio eclipses absolutely every contender on the market, even without any official pricing information. GM has out done itself; rising from the ashes, it produced a through-and-through performance world-beater.

 There is one thing that seriously bothers me about the C7, however. The fanfare that accompanies the unveiling of perennial icons in the automotive industry, like a new 911, Mustang, or SL Class, is always laden with automotive superlatives and hype that finds the general fan base screaming praises and irrelevant buzzwords at whoever is around to listen. The release of the C7 was no different.

The C7 buzzword du jour is ‘revolutionary’. To truly speak of a car as ‘revolutionary’, it must be a jarring departure from the established norm. The C7, at face value, is not revolutionary. I am being slightly unfair at this point, as much of the technology is indeed groundbreaking, if only at the Corvette’s price point. Perhaps a closer look into the history of the Corvette will provide better examples.

The primary point of praise (or lack thereof) is the C7’s aesthetic design. It incorporates functional ducts, aero effects, and a heavily revised rear-end, all while retaining the classic Corvette silhouette.

This is where the issue resides.

The last “revolutionary” Corvette, in terms of design, was the C4. Take a look at the Corvette generations. The eternal Corvette shape was “found” in the C4 (hint: the gold one). The C2 was a massive departure from the C1, and the C3 slimmed the design down, appearing sleek and svelte in its profile. The C4 eliminated the curves, and added a pinch of ‘80s boxy-ness that has become a mainstay of Corvette design up to the current C7. The C4 is undeniably the genesis of the modern Corvette, the influence of the design riding through the decades, all the way up into the 2014. The C7 is not a revolution, but an evolution. Is this a bad thing? Absolutely not. In fact, this is the trademark of heritage. Is there another car, besides the Corvette, that is successful in design, racing, sales, and pedigree, that has stood the test of time despite having the same basic layout and visual profile? I can think of one. 

 Has the Porsche 911 suffered for its stubborn design? No. The timeless design became the defining feature of the 911, allowing Porsche to cement itself onto the automotive landscape. With this in mind, what is the issue with approaching the Corvette with the same outlook?

From a technological standpoint, the formula of progression has not changed much at all. Each new Corvette model is heralded for its bargain performance, a true supercar killer. The C7 is not exempt from this, many people calling it the performance bargain of the decade. I am inclined to agree, but the C6 and its variants were labeled as such in their time as well. I cannot remember any other supercar, post-2000, that caused as much of an uproar than the C6 ZR1. Backed into a corner in 2009, GM flexed their muscles and created a sports car that is nothing short of a masterpiece. A world beater, indeed.

So what makes this new Corvette ‘revolutionary’?

Nothing. It brings nothing new that Ferrari and Porsche hasn’t already achieved (Think 7-speed manual transmission) to the game. Sure, if you squint real hard, you can say the C7 is “revolutionary” within the constraints of the Corvette universe. The interior is one hell of a leap forward from previous iterations, and the all-new LT1 engine is (evidently) superior to the LS series of V8s that it replaces. Power is up by about 20 horsepower, and the 0-60 time drops by about .2 seconds. Impressive? Nothing I would call world changing. Sure, a car is more than a list of stats, but if you listen to the journalists who covered the reveal, one would think it’s the only thing that matters.

I look to sports car evolution with an eye to tradition and a certain respect for the past. The C7 is already one of the all time great sports cars, but its fans have been too quick to run from its heritage, eschewing past ancestry for the “All new, better, different” Corvette.

That makes me a bit sad. 

Shattering the Silence 101: The Can-Am Roar

Race tracks, by nature, are not quiet. Not only do you have barely muffled race-spec engines screaming down straights, but there are announcers, power tools, walkie talkies, and loud fans. Race paddocks, with their spartan concrete construction, do nothing but amplify the race day din. Fortunately, I was reminded of this fact today when I came across a video of a 1970 McLaren M-8C.

 The McLaren M-8C was built to compete in what I consider to be the most hardcore and insane race group ever to have existed. Group 7, or affectionately known as Can-Am (for Canada-America), was the closest any racing group has ever gotten to being able to race restriction-free prototype cars. Historically, whenever the FIA (Fédération Internationale de l'Automobile) becomes involved, restrictions and regulations only water down the excitement in racing groups and leagues with engine size caps, minimum weight requirements, and aerodynamic restrictions. However, with Group 7, things were a bit different.  As long as the wheels were enclosed, it had two seats, and it met basic safety parameters, the cars were free to compete. Constructors like McLaren, Porsche, Shadow, and Lola all developed 1,000+ Horsepower monsters that redefined the concept of speed for the entire world of racing. Take a look at the video of the McLaren, revel in how violently the 7.5L Chevrolet Big Block spins to life, and reminisce on past glory days of insane, bygone racing groups.

Cats in a Cage: The Unexpected XJ Wonderland

About a week ago, after a couple rounds of skeet in North Dallas, I was cruising around a few industrial back roads when I stumbled upon something quite incredible. Ensconced in the heart of an industrial warehouse and workshop complex, a fenced in lot holds untold wonders, primarily of English persuasion.

Upon first glance, my eager eyes could barely register what I had stumbled upon. Within the relatively well manicured lot were rows upon rows upon rows of classic Jaguars that lay dormant and silent behind lines of chain-link.  The bulk of the rusting saloons were composed of every generation of Jaguar XJs, from the revolutionary styled Series I, the unreliable-yet-charming Series II, to the clean Pininfarina penned lines of the Series III. Thrown in among the XJs was a smattering of XJSs, their swooping, graceful lines slowly rusting and fading in the hot Texas sun. Normally, such abandonment of British classics would raise my ire, but as I moved around the fence, I realized something. The rows were too orderly, too neat, too caring for a junkyard. The grass was somewhat maintained, the glass blissfully unbroken, and the tires inflated. How odd, this seemed, to leave rows of traditional British saloons exposed to the elements, yet to care enough to ensure that the cars were not in a complete state of disrepair. This also was not a parts yard, as the headlights, trim, glass, and hoods were all present on most of the Jags. What was going on here???

It was not until I visited a nearby shop that I learned the purpose of the decaying beauties. Apparently, the lot is a holding pen for Jaguars awaiting a small-block conversion from the adjoining shop. How fantastic! Many late ‘60s and early ‘70s European and Japanese cars were blessed with sumptuously designed bodies, yet cursed with limp engines choked by restrictive emissions systems, weak transmissions, and hapless performance capabilities. Rebuilds are costly, and often maintenance can be painfully complicated. With a small-block transplant, these aged classics gain a new lease on life. The Chevy 350 Small-Block is the tried and true workhorse engine of America. It combines bulletproof reliability with immense performance potential. Parts and components are plentiful, with over 90,000,000 small blocks produced since its introduction in 1955. These days, the 350 has found itself crammed in every engine bay imaginable, from MGBs all the way to Porsche 944s. This Jaguar conversion shop makes perfect sense, as both XJs and XJSs are vaunted for their styling, availability, and cheap prices. With a 350 beating under the hoods of these stately sedans and voluptuous coupes, they become a classy alternative to brutish and heavy American metal. So the next time you hear the legendary rumble of a Chevy, look for the source. What you find may surprise you!