Anadol STC-16

by CarLustBlog.com at 3:03 AM PDT, March 20, 2009

Submitted for your consideration, the beautiful fiberglass-bodied STC-16 sports car, shown here in the bright yellow that is its trademark color. Designed in the early 1970s, it's a hatchback coupe that's very close in size (less than six inches difference in all major dimensions) to the present-day Mazda Miata. The styling is reminiscent of the early Datsun 240Z and Ford Capri and maybe even a little of the Shelby Cobra Daytona--yet the STC-16 is undeniably unique. It's clean and understated and wouldn't look entirely out of place in a 21st-century showroom. I particularly like lines of the grille and headlight surround, and the black-edged body-color bumper.

It is unlikely that you will ever see an STC-16 in person--mostly because there aren't that many to see. The car was never marketed in North America, and as far as I have been able to determine, there's not a single STC-16 on this continent, not even in Jay Leno's legendary garage. Only 176 STC-16s were built, according to the most optimistic tally, making it rarer than the Studebaker Avanti, Plymouth Superbird, Mazda Cosmo 110, Kaiser Darrin roadster, Toyota 2000GT, or Ford RS200. Only 26 are known to still be in existence, all in their country of origin.

So, you may ask, what is the STC-16's country of origin?

Unless you already know, you'd probably never guess.

The STC-16 came, not from England or Germany or even Japan or Italy, but from Istanbul, Turkey. The Anadol STC-16 was the first and only sports car built by the Turkish firm of Otosan Otomobil Sanayii.

Otosan assembles Fords today, but it once sold cars and light trucks bearing its own "Anadol" brand name. The first Anadol was the A1 coupe, introduced in 1966. It was designed and engineered in England by Reliant, a firm best known as the manufacturer of the Robin three-wheel minicar. The A1 had a fiberglass body on a steel ladder frame, and used a European Ford drivetrain. Otosan added the four-door A2 sedan (also fiberglass-bodied, and built on the same running gear as the A1) to its lineup in 1970.

Shortly after the A2 went on the market, Otosan embarked on its most ambitious project yet--a two-seat sports car which would be the first of its vehicles designed entirely in-house. Stylist Eralp Noyan drew inspiration from the Supermarine Spitfire fighter plane, and produced an attractive, well-proportioned coupe. The exterior styling was complemented by a tasteful interior with bucket seats and full sports-car instrumentation.

The chassis was a modified version of the A1/A2 frame, cut down to an 89.7-inch wheelbase, but with the same basic layout--front engine, rear drive, independent suspension with coil springs up front, live axle with leaf springs in the back. The sedan suspension was not stiffened or otherwise tweaked in the direction of handling, but a rack-and-pinion steering box was fitted in place of the sedan's recirculating ball system.

The engine was a 1599-cc Ford inline four-cylinder with a single-barrel carb which produced 67 horsepower and 89 foot-pounds of torque, mated to a four-speed manual transmission. This powertrain gave the 2,028-pound STC-16 a top speed of 108 mph and a 0-60 time of around 15 seconds.

That doesn't sound all that impressive, but there are a few mitigating circumstances to keep in mind. First of all, we're dealing with the early 1970s, when even supposedly top-end "performance" cars were a little light in the performance department. Anadol was not a large enterprise--its best seller, the A2 sedan, sold an average of only 3,500 cars a year--and the development budget could not have been all that large. The STC-16 was only the second automobile designed entirely by Turks--the first was the ill-fated Devrim sedan of 1961--and there just was not a large talent pool of experienced Turkish automotive engineers to staff the design team with. This being the early '70s, they probably had to do their designing the old-fashioned way, with T-squares and French curves and slide rules instead of computers.

The result was a car that was a bit overweight and underpowered--but considering Otosan's limited resources and lack of institutional experience relative to its competitors in Zuffenhausen, Marinello, Tokyo, Bowling Green, or Hethel, Norfolk, the boys from Istanbul had nothing to be ashamed of. Indeed, the phrase "pretty good for a rookie" seems like a fair evaluation. The STC's styling and interior ergonomics were the equal of contemporary sports coupes from Europe and Japan. It was competently engineered and had no major vices. The STC was all but hand-built, and one suspects the assembly quality would have put most 1970s Detroit iron to shame. The performance envelope may have been modest, but the car had a lot of potential for further development.

Otosan intended from the start to race the STC-16 on the rallying circuit. The race-prepared version of the STC had a modified engine producing 140 horsepower and a lighter fiberglass (!) frame. This illustrates what I meant about potential--add 73 horsepower and subtract a couple hundred pounds of weight, and all of a sudden the performance envelope gets a whole lot larger. The rally version compiled a respectable record in Turkish and European competition.

The designation "STC" was chosen with an eye toward export sales. It was supposed to stand for the English phrase "Sport Touring Coupe." Young Turkish car enthusiasts, however, insisted that it stood for Süper Türk Canavarı--"Super Turkish Monster!" The STC's alternate nickname was "the Moslem Corvette," in reference to its fiberglass body.

Unfortunately, the Super Turkish Monster didn't work out very well as a business proposition. In Turkey in the early 1970s, automobile ownership was still limited to the relatively well-to-do. The STC was expensive--70,000 Turkish lira ($5,384 at 1973 exchange rates, which equates to about $25,000 in today's dollars) versus 50,000 lira ($3,846) for the A2 sedan. There simply wasn't that much of a domestic Turkish market for expensive sports cars. A few STCs were exported to the UK, but it was not marketed anywhere else outside of Turkey. It is unlikely that a car with the STC's relatively modest performance would have had much appeal in the US market at that price point, and Otosan's inability to take advantage of economies of scale would have prevented it from being priced competitively. (A humble '73 Vega hatchback, which could out-accelerate the STC and had a back seat, had an MSRP of $2,192--less than half the Turkish Monster's home-country list price.) Further, the car could not have been sold here without adding federally mandated 5-mph bumpers, which would have utterly ruined Eralp Noyan's beautiful styling.

Though not a commercial success, the STC-16 is fondly remembered by Turkish automobile enthusiasts. It's become something of a cultural touchstone for the era and an object of understandable national pride. A small but very enthusiastic community of STC owners and fans in Turkey are keeping the memory alive, restoring and preserving these interesting automobiles.

As for myself, I find the STC-16 quite compelling. It is a reminder that creativity and talent--and, yes, even the irrational love of automobiles which Car Lust is dedicated to chronicling--are universal human characteristics, and that good things can come from unexpected places. What it might lack in raw power or sophistication it more than makes up for with its attractive lines, unique origin, and eager underdog personality.

I've owned and driven plenty of cars with better performance than the STC-16--even the much-despised Monza wagon would probably dominate it at the dragstrip--but there's a large part of me that would really like to have one. Since it is over 25 years old, you may import an STC-16 to the United States for street use without having to bring it up to U.S. specifications--assuming you can find one in Turkey that the owner is willing to sell you. Roll up to a car show or the cruise-in at the ice cream stand in a bright yellow STC-16 (with "Istanbul (not Constantinople)" blasting out of the stereo, of course!), and you'll likely draw a curious crowd wondering what it is. Imagine the looks on their faces when you tell them that it's a "Super Turkish Monster!"

The two publicity photos of the prototype that appear at the top of this article were taken while it was in England for development testing. Those shots, and the photo of the restored blue and white two-tone (which belongs to a Mr. Gomugen), came from the Turkish website http://www.stc-16.org/. The other illustrations came from another Turkish website, http://www.anadol-stc16.com/. Both sites have plenty of photos and other information, in both Turkish and English.

I would also like to thank Ali Ersin, the proprietor of anadol-stc16.com, for taking the time to answer some of my questions by e-mail. That's Ali's car illustrating the Turkish magazine article above.

--Kurabiye bir köpek'nin sahibi

In topics: Car Lust

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Wagon Queen Family Truckster

by CarLustBlog.com at 1:23 PM PDT, March 17, 2009

It's hard to imagine a car more divergent from yesterday's Ford Fiesta than the Wagon Queen Family Truckster. For one thing, the Fiesta was a real car with real significance to the automotive industry; the Truckster was fictional, significant only in the degree of anguish it inflicted on the Griswold family in National Lampoon's Vacation, the 1983 movie paean to family road trips. The Fiesta was a simple small car that excelled at doing more with less; the Truckster was monumentally excessive and yet completely hapless.

The Truckster might be fictional, but it's still worth discussing--if only because it is right at the center of one of the funniest movies of the 1980s. Captain Ahab rode to inexorable and tragic disaster aboard the Pequod; Clark W. Griswold did the same thing much more entertainingly aboard the Wagon Queen Family Truckster.

Everybody knows the Family Truckster is funny; what is not as well-understood is the fact that the Truckster's disgusting excesses make it intelligent, incisive, pitch-perfect satire of the dismal state of American cars in the 1970s and early 1980s. It was certainly over-the-top, the Truckster is so well-aimed that it's not hard to imagine it being real. Don't believe me? Let's step through the ways in which the Truckster satirizes the typical 1983 American LeBehemoth Brougham.

Point 1: American cars of the era were badly overstyled.

American cars of the late 1970s and early 1980s were notorious for their styling excesses and for the non-cohesive way in which unrelated styling cues were stacked unpleasantly atop each other. Well, the Truckster ridicules that trend by taking it wildly over the top. Acres of wood trim, including on the hood, jarringly juxtaposed with "Metallic Pea" paint? Check. Chrome applied by the linear mile? Check. A big clunky luggage rack? check. Extraneous vents and gills? Check. The only traditional styling themes missing from the Truckster are a vinyl roof and portholes.

The Truckster upped the ante with ridiculous touches such as four sets of Dodge Diplomat front headlights (for eight headlights in all), quad taillights, and massive crowns on both C-pillars and on all four chromed hubcaps. Check out the tailgate--it has two tailgate latches. Unless the tailgate is hinged both at the bottom and on the left, one of those latches is clearly ornamental.

The Truckster's styling is a miasmatic hell of extroverted cliche and tastelessness, and whoever designed it was a depraved genius. If I had the chance to meet the designer, I'm not sure if I would punch him* or shake his hand. Possibly both.

The inside wasn't much better; the seats appeared to be upholstered with beige burlap, and the Truckster was burdened with the same awful foot-wide horizontal speedometer that was used on many GM cars of the time. Most damning for a station wagon, the thing apparently couldn't carry much cargo--even with only four occupants, the luggage rode on the roof rack.

Interestingly, the new Acura TL's controversial grille reminds me of the Truckster**--it has the same demented grin, the same slack-jawed expression. Envision the TL at right with a few more headlights stacked vertically, and possibly some wood trim--it's just a little too close to the Truckster to be coincidence. Acura, might there be a special Family Truckster wagon edition in the works? Please?

* I'm not trying to be sexist here; I'm just saying that none of the women in my life would be capable of an atrocity like the Truckster.

** If my Honda Ridgeline roast didn't dispel the questions about whether my opinion has been paid for by Honda, well, this ought to clear things up.

Point 2: American cars of the era were poorly engineered and put-together.

As the movie opens, we see a sleazy car salesman played by a very young Eugene Levy trying to foist the Truckster off on our hero, Clark W. Griswold, whose line, "I am not your ordinary, everyday fool" would prove eerily prescient. In fact, Griswold would prove throughout the movie to be an extraordinary fool, but even he recognized the Truckster as an awful car, bereft of positive attributes.

In response to Griswold's cynicism, Levy retorted, "You think you hate it now, but wait 'til you drive it!" It's a classic line that, frankly, could apply to many American cars of the time. The Truckster kept running despite being shut off after driving home from the dealership. It developed a loud interior rattle before its first fuel fill-up. Its airbag--clearly just a garbage bag--inflated after a major accident. The fuel door seemed to drain directly into the engine.

This is all over-the-top, of course, but it's still pointed satire. Rapidly changing emissions regulations meant that American cars of the 1970s had significant drivability problems, and many new domestic cars were so awful right off the assembly line that they prompted the creation of Lemon Laws. Many American cars became much, much more hateable once they were driven, and the Truckster epitomized that experience.

Point 3: American cars of the era were inferior to their simpler predecessors.

Griswold originally intended to trade his Oldsmobile Vista Cruiser in on an "Antarctic Blue Super Sports wagon, with "the CB and the optional Rally Fun-Pack"--a rather enticing description of a car we were unfortunately never destined to see. When the salesman confronted Griswold with the Truckster instead, Griswold wisely demanded his old car back--only to find that it had been crushed (in a heartbreaking scene for me).

Griswold initially preferred his old Vista Cruiser before even driving the Truckster--how do you think he felt after experiencing the Truckster's myriad flaws in a drive across the country. Do you think that by the time he reached Walley World he might have wanted his old car back?

Unrelated Point: The Family Truckster was intrinsically evil and/or had intelligence-sapping qualities.

Let's step away from the satire point for a moment; I think there might be something darker at work here. The more I think about the Truckster, and the impact it had on the Griswold family, the more I think it had some sort of malevolent presence that, while more subtle than that displayed by the killer car in Christine, was no less real. Perhaps the better example would be the Ring of Power that Frodo carries in The Lord of the Rings. Like the Ring, the Truckster was a talisman of doom that brought ill fortune and slowly but inexorably put its bearer under its twisted influence.

That may sound odd, but just think about it. At the beginning of the film, Clark W. Griswold was portrayed as a successful businessman. He had a pleasant family, a good career, a nice house, two cars, and was apparently happily living the American dream. Up to that point in his life, he had obviously displayed some combination of high intelligence, good decision-making, or luck. All of that abruptly came to an end when Griswold first came into contact with the Truckster.

The pre-Truckster Griswold had arranged to buy what sounded like a neat car--the aforementioned Super Sports wagon. Even after his introduction to the Truckster, Griswold displayed his previous smarts and backbone in refusing to fall for the obvious bait-and-switch and threatening to walk out if he didn't get the car he wanted. In fact, we see Griswold walk out--only to find that his old car had been crushed. The fact that Griswold relented and bought the Truckster and did not sue the dealership for destruction of his property indicates the fact that the Truckster's influence was already beginning to work on him. By the time he reached home, Griswold was completely in the Truckster's thrall--he had already rationalized his purchase and defended the car to his surprised wife.

From that point on, we see Griswold's decision-making and fortune begin to crumble. By the end of the movie, Griswold is almost unrecognizable from his pre-movie state--he had descended into a plane of irrationality, immorality, and rationalizing reminiscent of, say, a serious drug user. Again, the One Ring's slow, deleterious effects on its bearers can serve as an example. While the Truckster's effects appear to be similar to the Ring's, the Truckster actually appears to be much more powerful. It ruined Griswold's life within a week and left an elderly woman and a dog dead in its wake; the Ring took years to twist its bearers.

Unfortunately, judging by the subsequent Vacation movies, the Truckster's influence was permanent. We never see the Truckster after the first movie, but in every sequel Griswold was is shown in a state of permanent idiocy, never to regain his apparent pre-movie success and intelligence. Perhaps we should think of the Vacation moves as tragedy, chronicling the systematic destruction of a formerly respectable family man.

In Summary

I love massive land barges and wagons from this era--my beloved Malibu wagon was sold in the same year that this movie debuted--but even so I am not quite sure how to process the Truckster. When even I can't admit to liking a large car from this era, that's pretty telling.

The Truckster was involved in most of the classic scenes of the movie, including:

• the classic opening dealership scene
• the computerized vacation plan, in which Pac-Man tries to eat the virtual Truckster (this invariably leaves me dissolved in tears of mirth)
• the epic crash when Griswold jumps the Truckster 50 yards into the Arizona desert (which can be viewed here in German, because it's funnier that way)

The first video below is the first 8:27 of the movie; you can feel free to watch the opening credits for the sweet wave of nostalgia, if you'd like, but the movie starts with the dealership scene at roughly the 2:15 mark. The second video shows both the Truckster's persistent rattle and its hilarious scene alongside Christie Brinkley's Ferrari 308. I love how the Truckster bounds and floats down the freeway in this scene. The third video shows a Truckster replica being autocrossed(!).

From now on, if I get depressed about the state of the world, I'll think about some enthusiast autocrossing a Wagon Queen Family Truckster--suddenly everything will seem much brighter.

Some of the images are video captures that appear to be all over the Internet; the other pictures are of a recreated Family Truckster featured in Autoblog last year. The exception is the final picture; one fan has both a General Lee and a Family Truckster in his garage--check out his page here. Well done!

--Chris H.

In topics: Car Lust

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2009 Chevrolet Cobalt

by CarLustBlog.com at 10:09 AM PST, March 6, 2009

"I tell ya, I'm all right now, but last week I was in rough shape, ya know! Are you kiddin'? I got the worst car in the world! Why just once, I'd like to see somebody pass me without pointing to one of my tires. No matter what lane I'm in, it ends in 500 feet. Ya know, the other day, I bought the perfect second car... a tow truck. I mean, every Sunday, I take my family out for a push! I tell ya, I get no respect... no respect at all".

Thank you, Rodney Dangerfield, my hero. He was one of the few comedians to make fun of himself or his fictional family, which made his humor so special to me. I sort of met him one time; he did a performance at The Grand Ole Opry House in Nashville, and we were so exhausted from laughing that we could barely talk on the way home. As his encore, he took questions from the audience; I was lucky, he heard and responded to mine. It was instantly forgettable for him, but I'll remember that moment forever!

When we talk about a car getting little or no respect, next to the Trabant, the Chevy Cobalt (and its lesser-known twin, the Pontiac G5) usually comes up. Why does this happen? Is the Cobalt deserving of the bad rap? Does it spend so much time on a service rack that it has more miles on it vertically than horizontally? I thought maybe it was time to mosey on down to the local Chevrolet dealer to find out.

First I checked out the official Chevrolet web site to read what Chevy had to say about the Cobalt and then to virtually "build" one or two. I was immediately impressed that there is no price difference between the 2-door and 4-door models. Prices start at $16,330 for a base LS and soar to $24,095 for the SS. Options and accessories like the Sport Pedals and Performance Air Intake will obviously cost you more. You may also want to buy the $75 Spare Tire option; otherwise the best-case scenario is a can of inflatable tire repair stuff the next time you have a blow-out.

Introduced in 2004 as a 2005 model, the Cobalt is built on GM's Delta platform, which also underpins the Chevy HHR, Saturn Ion, Saturn (Opel) Astra, and Daewoo Lacetti. It has electric power steering, which takes a bit of getting used to. It's not good, not bad, just ... different. The standard 2.2-liter I-4 ECOTEC engine puts out 155 horsepower, same as a 2001 Miata, and the Cobalt SS turbocharged and intercooled 2.0-litre I-4 ECOTEC is a fantastic performance bargain with 260 horses.

The 2009 Chevy Cobalt print brochure says the "Cobalt comes with a great selection of interior fabrics and colors." What? According to the same brochure, only gray and ebony are offered, and they are both just lighter shades of black. There are gray cloth, gray Sport Cloth, gray leather, ebony Sport Cloth, and ebony leather choices. That's all, folks, unless you go with the Cobalt SS. The 1LT and higher models have power windows (No more busted knuckles, Nathan!), power door locks, power mirrors, and Sport Cloth seats. The 2LT adds cruise control, 16-inch wheels, ABS, a 4-speed automatic tranny, and remote start.

The Cobalt dash is as hard and hollow as today's plastics can make it, and the one-piece plastic door panels follow suit, with either a cloth or vinyl insert swathing your elbow with luxury. It's very reminiscent of Vegas and Chevettes decades ago. There aren't any door pull handles; your fingers grab a cup on the unforgiving door panel. The poor folks back in coach have it even tougher; there is virtually no arm rest at all and, again, rock-hard panels. Maybe this car should include a first-aid kit for bruises. "Ooh, my arm, it's broken!"

The LS Coupe I sat in had two remote control outside mirrors, both cable-operated, with a rubbery feeling of uncertainty. There is no way the driver could safely, if at all, reach over and adjust the passenger's mirror while driving.

I think a paragraph or two has to be dedicated to the Cobalt SS. If somebody truly wants a sleeper, this is your car, available in two doors or, this year, four. In addition to the 105 extra ponies, you get stability control, ABS with Brembos up front, an upgraded suspension, stainless steel exhaust with a chrome tip, 18-inch wheels, a body kit that includes a spoiler and fog lights, and a 228-Watt, seven-speaker Pioneer sound system.

Omit the spoiler (available on all Cobalts), and it would take practiced eyes to differentiate the SS from the other trim levels. But at least the seats are unique, offering premium cloth with an "SS" logo and color combinations of ebony/gray, ebony/red, and ebony/ebony. Sorry, no ebony/ivory option; Paul & Stevie would be disappointed. Chevy claims a 0-60 time of 5.7 seconds; Car and Driver got a very respectable 70-0 mph stopping distance of 160 feet with the SS. Impressive, though I believe safety features such as better brakes should be available all across the car line, not just for a select model or two. What's next... "Seat Belts of the Rich & Famous?"

Then there's the Cobalt XFE (eXtra Fuel Economy). Introduced in April 2008, just in time for $4-per-gallon gas, this model comes with an engine recalibrated for economy (that nevertheless produces the same 155 horsepower), 15-inch reduced-resistance tires, and a higher top gear in the required manual transmission. This option is available only on the base LS and slightly higher 1LT Trim levels, but not on the automatic transmission-equipped 2LT. The XFE gets 25 mpg city/37 mpg highway, which is better than the Chevy Aveo5 and Honda Fit.

And let me say some great things about the Cobalt's standard Driver Information System. At the touch of a switch on the steering wheel, 15 different pieces of vehicle and temperature info are at hand, including air pressures for each tire. The one item that really impressed me was the "Vehicle Average Speed" readout. Teenagers, beware. Also, the hood and trunk lid were held up by struts, not prop rods or springs.

If anybody reads my bio here, they'll see that I worked at the Nissan plant in Tennessee when it opened. NMMC had a Vehicle Evaluation System (VES) that recorded and scored cars based on quality demerits--the more flaws, the higher the score, like in my golf game. Unfortunately, walking around the outside of the Cobalt raised red flags and points everywhere. Body panel gaps were inconsistent, the front bumper stuck out approximately 3/16ths of an inch from the fender (though we were able to push it back in a bit), and every new Cobalt I saw on the lot had the trunk corner raised higher on the driver's side than the passenger's. On the metallic-paint cars, the bumpers looked as if they had been sprayed using a different color chart. The discrepancy is even visible in the official brochure! The plant manager should be fired for accepting this rubbish from a supplier, unless the problem is an internal one--in which case he or she should still be fired.

This car could have had been named the 2009 Nighthawk and looked appropriate for the name. I saw cues dating back to 1977, like the Coupe's rear side windows. Build quality was similar to the Nighthawk; I almost cut my finger on a metal burr inside the totally unfinished trunk lid's rough edge. The door window frames are too wide to be classy and too thin to be "limousine" style--I think they just look cheap. The headlights are too big, and the rump is too high. I can't understand the optional second tachometer/boost gauge, mounted on the A-pillar, available on the Cobalt SS. All Cobalts have a speedometer, tachometer, and fuel meter. If Chevy wanted to add more gauges, what about oil pressure and engine temp?

I just couldn't drive this coupe. I wanted to get out of it and far away; it evoked too many bad car memories. Since I had no intention of buying one, why waste the time and fuel?

I really, really wanted to see and say more nice things about the Cobalt, but I found the same "build it cheap, and they'll trade up later" philosophy that got GM where it is today. And until GM designs and builds a better car, I just don't have much sympathy for them. Poor design and sloppy craftsmanship do not a good car make. I actually preferred the older Cavalier.

But there is hope on the horizon. Within the year, we should see the 1.4-liter, 140-horsepower turbocharged Chevy Cruze start to replace the Cobalt. However, the challenge is just beginning, since the Cruze will be built on the new Delta II platform at the same Lordstown, Ohio, plant that makes the Cobalt (and that infamously built Cookie the Dog's Owner's Monza Wagon). I hope build quality and attention to details are improved. And can you puhleeze! take those little GM badges off of the cars? Then maybe ... just maybe ... you'll get a little more respect.

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Lincoln C

Lincoln C

by CarLustBlog.com at 10:46 AM PST, March 2, 2009

The interesting, surprising, thoroughly Lust-worthy little fellow shown at right held pride of place in the Ford section of the Cleveland Auto Show. It's about as long as a Focus, or my GTI, and a bit wider, wide enough to seat three across without too much squeezing. It has a four-cylinder turbocharged direct-injected engine which produces an "estimated" 180 HP (according to a Ford press release) mated to a dual-clutch gearbox similar to Volkswagen's DSG. That combination would be enough for some serious straight-line zip in a car this size. The fat tires on the 20" wheels promise equivalent cornering.

Oh, and the surprising part?

It's a Lincoln.

For those of us who grew up in the 1970s, when "Lincoln" meant "immense, vinyl-roofed, opera-windowed wallowing large-barge Detroit battleship sedan for members of the 101 Strings Fan Club," the idea of a small, light Lincoln with a performance envelope in hot-hatch territory is a little hard to get your mind wrapped around. Still, there it was on the turntable, and it looked as cool and futuristic as a car-show concept should look.

The Lincoln C's suicide center-opening doors are a deliberate callback to the legendary '61 Continental.

The interior has contoured bench seats with discreet detailing laser-etched into the white leather.

They look like something out of Star Trek or the Ikea catalog, and are said by those who have sat in them to be quite comfortable. On the other hand, there's a lack of lateral support bolsters that could prove problematic during a speed run down the twisties.

The gray trim, which is said to be recycled driftwood, looks very sharp against the white interior. The lack of armrests on the doors might be an issue, though.

The no-center steering wheel and the Bride of the Andromeda Strain electronic instrument panel with on-board wireless Internet in the passenger seat (see Ford's demonstration video here, starring "Eva from Uncanny Valley" as the voice of the computer) have that nice twenty-minutes-into-the-future look, but the ergonomics may be a bit much. The Lincoln-star-shaped glass roof panel looks neat, but would require a funny-shaped roof stamping and perhaps a fair bit more welding than the normal production car. A lot of these "features" are the sort of nifty show-car details that rarely make it into production.

The brakes looked intriguing, too.

It's not a disc, it's a ring, and the brake calipers seem to be on the inside of the ring. Cross-drilled, no less. The official Ford pitch-man did not know anything about them--wasn't in the PR script, I guess--but they seem like the sort of geeky little hidden engineering improvement that could turn out to be very important someday.

There's a lot to like about the Lincoln C, providing it lives up to its promised performance. The reports from the professional automotive press (for example, 1, 2, 3) seem to indicate that Ford is seriously exploring putting something like the C concept into production. Build one with front buckets and a proper stick shift, and you could get me hooked.

The action shot at the top of the article, and the photo at right, are official Ford press release photos. The others were taken by your humble narrator at the Cleveland Auto Show.

Tags: Lincoln C

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