Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home--Ford Probe

by Chris Hafner on August 28, 2009

We are going to attempt ... time travel.

I am painfully aware of the fact that it has now been more than one month since the last entry in the Star Trek cars series--my attempt to tie the Hyundai Genesis sports coupe to Star Trek III. I deeply regret the delay--if I could get this post up earlier by taking a Klingon Bird of Prey around a local star to initiate time warp, I would.

A joke... is a story with a humorous climax.

Following the somber (though excellent) space opera of the previous two movies, filled with poignant losses, space battles, and themes of mortality, Star Trek went in a much more light-hearted and mainstream direction with Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home. Or, as most people remember it, the one with the whales.

STIV might have proved a dramatic change of pace from the earlier movies, but it was still clearly Star Trek--its time-travel plot and goofy, cheerful energy captured the appeal of the original TV series. STIV didn't feature a clear-cut villain, or hyper-kinetic space battles, but its willingness to poke some fun at itself and its characters proved to be a powerful breath of air for the franchise.

Kirk didn't spend the movie locked in a struggle to the death with a super-villain; intead, he was struggling to properly incorporate "colorful metaphors" into his speech. Chekov wasn't under the thrall of a brain-sucking parasite; he was frantically searching for "nuclear wessels" and getting called a "Rooskie" (and worse) by a bemused Navy interrogator. Spock wasn't enduring death and resurrection; he was mind-melding with whales, silencing punk-rockers and being referred to as having done "too much LDS."

This combination of fish-out-of-water humor and the characters' natural chemistry proved a powerful elixir--STIV was a crossover hit and a box-office smash, and the mainstream success of the film helped launch the Star Trek: The Next Generation TV show. Perhaps the most telling indicator of its appeal is that STIV is the only Star Trek film that my wife will even consider watching with me.

Spock: To hunt a species to extinction is not logical.
Gillian: Who ever said the human race was logical?

Right around the time STIV was in production, Ford was considering taking its own iconic franchise in a dramatically new direction. The Mustang, of course, was famous as one of America's pre-eminent sporty cars, legendary for providing rear-wheel-drive V-8 thrills in an inexpensive package. That identity persisted through the dark days of the 1970s--even in Mustang II guise, the Mustang was available with optional V-8 power and testosterone-drenched muscle car plumage.

In the early-to-mid 1980s, however, a recent history of fuel shortages, a renewed emphasis on efficiency, and the emerging trend of automotive downsizing combined to make the rear-wheel-drive, V-8 formula look like an anachronism that would fade inevitably into the mists of history. At the same time, new technology promised similar performance from a smaller, front-wheel-drive, turbocharged car. Like the humpbacked whale featured in STIV, the traditional V-8 Mustang was an endangered species.

So, with its eye firmly on a brave new world of performance cars, and in partnership with Mazda, Ford began to develop a radically new Mustang. Slick, light, with front-wheel-drive and a turbo four, the new Mustang promised to bring the model's proud heritage up to date for the 1980s. Until, that is, the word got out and the backlash began. Mustang loyalists were not amused by the radical changes, they weren't shy about sharing their displeasure, and Ford quickly realized that it was in danger of killing the golden goose.

I have often tried to imagine the reaction in the Ford corporate offices when the completely predictable clouds of customer outrage began to appear on the horizon. The muscle car faithful didn't like the idea of a small, Mazda-developed, four-cylinder FWD hatchback replacing the traditional V-8 Mustang? Gosh, who could have seen that coming?

In any event, Ford executives belatedly caught on and decided to bring the new car out alongside the Mustang as a seperate model, named Probe in tribute to the manufacturer's line of early 1980s show cars.

Of course, history has proven that the RWD V-8 formula for performance cars was not in immediate danger of extinction; in fact, in recent years the pendulum has swung back towards RWD V-8 performance cars. Ford may have retained the traditional Mustang format only as a result of customer outcry, but it certainly worked out well--the V-8 Mustang has sold like hotcakes over the last two decades and has long outlived the Probe.

Still, Ford wasn't wrong--there was a huge market for smaller, lighter, front-wheel-drive turbocharged sports coupe, and by offering both the Mustang and the Probe, Ford was well-positioned to capture both the muscle car and sports coupe crowds.

It appears to be a probe, Captain. From an intelligence unknown to us.

When the Probe debuted in 1988, the flagship Probe GT immediately looked like a competitive offering in the sports coupe market. The sleek body came cladded with an aerodynamic body kit that looked so futuristic that tinsel-draped Probes were cast as 2015 model-year cars in Back to the Future II (alongside, interestingly, a modified BMW 6-series and the Pontiac Banshee show car).

The Probe's go-fast technology (a 145-horsepower turbocharged four-cylinder engine and adjustable sport shocks) was just right for the 1980s. The turbo was tuned for mid-range punch, so performance was strong--with a 0-60 time right around 7 seconds flat and a top speed north of 130 mph, the Probe was nearly as quick as its Mustang big brother. In 1993, Ford introduced the second-generation Probe, which replaced the strong but thrashy turbo four with a smoother and slightly more powerful V-6.

Both generations of Probe offered near-class-leading straight-line performance and handling, and, at $15-20K, it undercut its competition. It won Motor Trend's Car of the Year award and was honored by Car and Driver as one of its 10 Best Cars three times. The Probe was a good performer, a great bargain, and it sold well.

So why do I hate the Probe so much?

Because I .... HATE YOU! And I .... BERATE YOU! And I ... can't wait to get to you ...
And I ... ESCHEW YOU! And I ... say SCREW YOU! And I ... hope you're blue too.

STIV isn't my favorite of the Star Trek movies--it's entertaining, but it hasn't aged well and I find the overall premise ridiculous and the message a bit heavy-handed. But, even so, it's still a fun movie that I enjoy watching.

By contrast, I loathe, loathe the Probe. I always have loathed it. I'm not sure why, but I think of Probes as cheap, tacky, obvious and horrifically gauche. Why I feel that way about the Probe and not, say, the Merkur XR4Ti or Ford Thunderbird Turbo Coupe, I'm not sure. After all, I almost reflexively fawn over turbocharged hatchbacks, so why not the Probe?

Well, for one thing, I think both generations of the Probe were ugly. Actually, that's understating things a bit. In fact, I think both Probes had been brutally beaten with the ugly stick. The first Probe at least had some interesting futuristic lines and details that evoked the IMSA GTP Probe, but by the early 1990s the look had been cluttered with cheap-looking side sills, slatted air dams and spoilers.

The second-generation Probe, like the Mitsubishi 3000GT, managed to look both ugly and bland. It combined the dullness of the every-sports-coupe profile with soft, amorphous lines and a hideous front-end look that could be dubbed "plastic aggression." Compared to cars like the Mitsubishi Eclipse, Isuzu Impulse, and Volkswagen Scirocco and Corrado, the Probe looked like the kind of nightmare one might have after a night spent eating anchovy pizza and poring over cheesy mail-order body kit catalogs. It's a tragedy, considering the loveliness of its Mazda MX-6 cousin.

Then there's the name. Probe? Really? Setting aside for a moment the obvious proctology jokes, I still don't get it. The name doesn't have a great sound to it, and there are a lot of unpleasant or mundane sorts of probes. Even the coolest kind of probe, a space probe, isn't that cool. Who at Ford Corporate let that name through?

Even beyond the looks and the name, the Probe seemed so ordinary inside and out, like a cut-rate budget sports coupe without the special intangibles offered by its competition. The Mitsubishi Eclipse and Eagle Talon siblings had smoother turbocharged engines, optional all-wheel-drive, they looked better, and offered higher performance in a slicker package. The Honda Prelude and Acura Integra offered sharper handling, precise shifters, and screaming VTEC engines. The Isuzu Impulse, depending on the generation, was either gorgeous or high-tech and chunky. The Volkswagen Scirocco and Corrado offered Germanic precision, resolutely right-angled styling, and powertrains featuring either superchargers or the excellent VR6 V-6. The Subaru XT and XT6 were less capable but compellingly weird.

Had the Probe debuted in 1984 instead of 1988, I probably would have liked it better--its styling would have seemed fresher, and in those days its speed and technology would have made it a legitimate hero car. In 1988, though, the sports coupe market was ferocious, and the Probe was competing with much slicker pieces of machinery.

Gillian: Don't tell me, you're from outer space.
Kirk: No, I'm from Iowa. I only work in outer space.

>The patronizing smile that Gillian gives Kirk after that line is exactly how all of you should feel about my opinion on the Probe. As strong as my loathing is, I admit that it's irrational and probably dead-wrong.

The contemporary press loved the Probe; as I mentioned the Probe won Motor Trend's CoY and three Car and Driver 10 Best awards.

I have two C&D comparison tests from 1992, one including a first-gen turbo GT and the second including the second-gen V-6 GT. The first-gen, even at the end of its product cycle, was one of the top performers and finished mid-pack, ahead of the Impulse, Toyota Celica, and tied with the Corrado. The second-gen won its test outright, beating outthe heavy hitters of its day--the Prelude, MX-6, Eclipse, and Corrado VR6. C&D raved about the power of the turbo four, the smoothness of the V-6, and the precise handling offered by the second-gen GT. I have no answer to these observations from the contemporary experts, and I fully expect to get some comments from Probe lovers reading something like, "Double dumb-ass on you!"

The Probe provided copious speed and thrills for the dollar, and I'm sure plenty of people lust after it. I'm just not among them.

The first two Probe photos come from NWProbe.com, the red rear 3/4 shot is from a forum in which a user expresses an opinion similar to mine. The front shot of the overdone white Probe is from BlueCappro.com, and the final Probe shot is a press photo. The two STIV shots are screenshots from the movie, so photo credit probably needs to go to Paramount.

--Chris H.

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Ford Ranchero/Chevy El Camino

by CarLustBlog.com at 5:18 PM PDT, April 9, 2009

Ladies, you may stop reading right now. Avert your eyes, if you must, because this post is about men.
Real men. Manly men. Who do manly things in manly ways, that only manly men can do them. Men who mow their own lawns, fix a leaky faucet, and change their own oil. Men who brew up a pot of battery acid every morning. Men who use after-shave, not "post-shave skin conditioner with aloe, seaweed extract and Vitamin E with a subtle scent of coriander." Men who wouldn't touch a quiche with a 10-foot fork. Men who only drink whiskeys that are named after animals or people. Men who only cry when their father or best hunting dogs die. Men who frankly, my dear, don't give a damn. Men who know every manly cliche from the last 30 years and aren't afraid to use them.

These men drive a particular type of car. A car that drips testosterone like a leaky gasket. A car that says, "I know what I need, and this is it." These type of men know that they'll never drive the length and breadth of the Kalahari, but they will sure as hell be hauling 4-by-8s home from the lumberyard (note: not the "home improvement store"). Men who don't need fine Corinthian leather or a station wagon dressed up as an Urban Assault Vehicle. No, this is the Steve McQueen of cars: no entourage, no workout video, and no froufrou drinks with umbrellas in them.

I jest, of course. The lack of a Y-chromosome doesn't disqualify anyone from appreciating these fine cars, let alone owning or driving one. There are no doubt many men who just don't have the ... um ... good taste to rate this kind of car, and plenty of women who do. It's far more about the mindset than which restroom door you come out of.

Now, I know what you're thinking. "Is he talking about one car or two?" Well, to tell you the truth, in all this excitement, I've kinda lost track myself. Read on, but only if you feel lucky, punk.

Generally referred to as utility coupes, these beasties are simply a standard coupe cabin with a cargo bed in the back. This most American of vehicles actually got its start in Australia in 1935 when Ford Australia put a cargo bed on the back of its new Ford Coupe body. It quickly went out of style Down Under but was resurrected by Ford in North America as the Ranchero for the 1957 model year. It was based on the Custom sedan and was produced on the same factory line as the regular models, but sold through Ford truck dealers.You could get one in either a very basic trim level--marketed mostly to those who would ordinarily buy a pickup truck--or a fully optioned version. And despite its origins as a car, it actually had a slightly greater cargo capacity than the half-ton F-series pickup; no slouch when it came to hauling.

The Ranchero was a hit with the press and the buying public and was so successful that it prompted GM to launch a ute of its own, the iconic El Camino. The El Camino ("The Street" in Spanish) was first produced for the 1959 model year and was based on the Brookwood station wagon. Like Ford, Chevy offered every option available on its normal car lines for the El Camino. Despite this, the El Camino did not sell very well, perhaps due to its rather flamboyant styling, which probably detracted from its utilitarian function. Chevy canceled the model after the 1960 model year after selling less than 37,000 units.

The El Camino was re-launched for 1964, and went head-to-head with the Ranchero for a number of years. In its second incarnation the El Camino was based on the Chevelle; throughout the 1960s and into the early 1970s it followed many of its siblings through the muscle car era. A Super Sport version was available using engines up to the 454 LS6. The Ranchero followed suit, though it was initially downsized in 1960 using the Falcon as its base, generally a much more utilitarian vehicle than the Chevy. But by 1968 the Ranchero was based on the Torino and received many of the muscle car options Ford was doling out, including the 428 Cobra Jet engine.

The Ranchero and El Camino followed their sedan bretheren out of the muscle car era and into the Age of Visual Excess in the 1970s. The Ranchero continued to be based on the Torino until that model was phased out, and it then switched to, of all things, the Thunderbird/LTD-II. How much do I love this one? A lot, thank you very much. Like everything else, power went down while luxury options went up, and the Ranchero quietly ended its life after 1979 as Ford migrated its truck business to the light-pickup line.

The El Camino stayed with the Chevelle through 1977 and then made the switch with the rest of the Chevy line to smaller designs, now based on the Malibu. It had the more sharp-edged styling of the New Chevrolet. Engines were generally small and didn't crack the 200 horsepower mark again. Unlike the Ranchero, the El Camino soldiered on until 1987, when it was finally laid to rest.

What killed the Ranchero and, eventually, the El Camino? Most likely the CAFE fuel mileage regulations. Both of these vehicles were car-based and thus came under mileage regulations; since they needed the extra weight for their cargo-carrying roles, there was little incentive to continue building them. This was especially true for Ford, which had already started to transition over to a light truck with their Courier and eventually the Ranger lines which were not covered under CAFE.

The El Camino is generally considered the archetype for this type of vehicle even though it wasn't the first. There were plans by GM to revive the type, though this time based on the Pontiac G8, itself an import of the Aussie Holden Ute, but these plans have apparently been shelved. At least one other manufacturer has had a go with this type of vehicle, in the form of the Subaru Baja, a utility version of the Legacy/Outback wagon. Generally, however, the market has concentrated on extended-cab small pickups which are not covered under existing CAFE rules ... yet.

Were utes a good idea? Well, maybe. They certainly were popular for quite a while, and they offered a nice combination of occasional hauling capability with the day-to-day driving niceties of a standard car. They were probably the best combination for the suburban guy/gal who used it mainly for commuting but occasionally had a load of brush to haul to the dump. They had better ride and handling than a pickup but were still practical. I really have no idea why these came to be known as "guy cars", but such is the automotive life.

Or should I say, the High Life?

--Anthony Cagle

Both of the El Camino photos come from El Camino Pictures and the Ranchero photo and poster are from MustangMonthly.com and Dream-Cars.org, respectively.

In topics: Car Lust

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Ford Pinto/Mercury Bobcat

by CarLustBlog.com at 11:55 AM PST, February 13, 2009


Ah, the early 1970s. Gas was cheap ... maybe 20 cents a gallon during price wars. The terms "Oil Embargo" and "Energy Crisis" had not been coined yet. We could put a dollar's worth of gas in the car and drive around town all night. Big cars were everywhere, muscle cars were still being made. But there was a storm on the horizon. For about five years, these funny little cars from Japan were popping up, Volkswagen Beetles were everywhere, and even though the Corvair had been a disaster, Americans were turning to smaller cars. The U.S. automakers responded with the first generation of home-grown import fighters.

So General Motors, American Motors Corporation, and Ford Motor Company launched, almost simultaneously, their assault on the imports. GM had the Vega, AMC touted the Gremlin, and Ford introduced the Pinto, somewhat unique to this group by being the only car to have rack-and-pinion steering, which we all take for granted today. All of these little cars were unibody, had rear-wheel drive, and were introduced in the glory days of no Five-Mile-Per-Hour-Bumper or Unleaded Fuel requirements. When the tougher bumpers were required, starting in the 1974 model year, the initial car styles took a turn for the worse as "Guard Rail" bumpers made the cars look heavy and awkward.

I always thought small Ford cars were trimmed more nicely than their GM equivalents. Rather than hard door surfaces and places for gauges, Ford had padded vinyl doors and needles that actually moved on the dash, though upper door panels were made of hard painted metal. Upgraded interiors offered adjustable head rests, again a feature not available on small GM cars. Cruise control, tilt wheel, power windows, and power door locks were never offered on these American subcompact cars. One thing I liked about the Pinto was the fact that, in either hatchback or sedan form, their profile was virtually identical.

But driving a Pinto was a different experience from other small cars of the time. Even though the cars were light, the Pinto's steering required more effort than the recirculating ball systems of the others, probably caused by the quick turn ratio. Pintos were initially offered with drum brakes on all four corners, which were not as effective as discs. The power-grabbing optional power steering and power brakes were a good idea on a Pinto, even though its compact size suggested that these should have been luxury items, not necessities.

The Mercury Bobcat, identical to the Pinto save for the hood, grille, taillights, and badges, popped onto the scene in 1975 and died with the Pinto in 1980. Both cars were replaced by the front-wheel-drive Ford Escort and Mercury Lynx, respectively. The Mercury shared the Ford's 94-inch wheelbase and offered the same 2.3-liter I-4 (88 horsepower) or 2.8-liter V-6 (98 horsepower) engines, and the same 4-speed manual or 3-speed automatics. Surprisingly, these cars were light; they weighed in from 2,000 to 2,300 pounds. For reference, a Mazda Miata weighs close to 2,500 pounds.

The Bobcat was available as a 2-door hatchback or wagon, but Mercury did not make available an equivalent to the "sedan" Pinto with an enclosed trunk. Mercury wisely installed the Pinto's deluxe interior as standard trim to appeal to upper-market subcompact buyers.

Toward the end of the 1970s, large vans became customized beyond reason with shag carpet, mirrors, CB radios, wood cupholders, RV-style windows (some heart-shaped), airbrushed graphics, and other gaudy niceties. Ford decided the Pinto Wagon would make a good economical approach to this trend, so the company gussied up its wagon with graphics, a porthole, raised white letter tires, nice wheels, a tach and gauges, sport steering wheel, spoilers, and some attitude. The custom vans were commonly known as "Sin Bins," and Ford called the custom Pintos "Cruising Wagons." I remember seeing quite a few of these on the road, so they must have been at least somewhat successful.

Sadly, what the Pinto became most famous for its proclivity to a fiery response to rear-end collision. Two crucial elements of the car were poorly designed--the gas tube filler poked directly into the tank, sparking a fire in a serious collision, and the tank itself had very little protection from impact. The Pinto's body structure was also weak; the body cavity would bend on impact and the doors would jam, preventing easy escape. As a result, cigarette lighters shaped like a Pinto were sold in the finest novelty shops. Adding insult to injury, some Pintos came equipped with Firestone 500 radials, which had a nasty habit of band separation and blow-outs. The Pinto became involved in litigations and was a frequent butt of late-night comic jokes. Though the two videos here are short, they demonstrate the bad press the car received, which ultimately led to poor sales, a tarnished reputation, and an early demise.

The picture of the Vega, Gremlin, and Pinto is from Motor Trend; the interior picture(s) are from LoveFords.org; the Bobcats are from Wikicars; the Pinto Cruising Wagon is from Barraclou.com.

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