2009 Campagna T-Rex 1400R Full Test and Video

On the great list of things we must have in our lifetime the 1,125-pound, 197-horsepower, 2009 Campagna T-Rex three-wheeler ranks just below chrome underwear and a glow-in-the-dark pillow case but slightly above a diaper-scented air freshener. Which is to say, the T-Rex is not for everyone.

There are several valid reasons for this. First, this wildly powerful machine, which is capable of roll-on acceleration approaching that of a Nissan GT-R, isn't a car at all. And we mean that in no uncertain terms. It's a motorcycle — classified as such by the Department of Transportation.

Second, it's evil fast. And by evil fast we mean just plain scary — like Death himself is riding shotgun, waiting for the slightest mistake to turn your thrill to regret. Every time we sensed some fun creeping into the experience, the feeling was overcome by the unfiltered fear of death.

But that's just us. Whether the 2009 Campagna T-Rex is your kind of vehicle depends largely on whether you like its unique combination of frightening speed and one-with-the-machine driving experience. And you just might.

T-Rex Vitals
Campagna Motors builds its line of three-wheelers by hand in Montreal, Quebec (what is it about Quebec and three-wheelers; there's the Can-Am Spyder, too). The chassis of the T-Rex is constructed from 1.5-inch tubular steel and then covered in fiberglass body panels. This three-wheeler utilizes a double-wishbone suspension at each front wheel and a traditional motorcycle-style swingarm in the rear. Mounted behind the driver and passenger is a 197-hp, 1,352cc inline-4 engine and six-speed sequential manual transmission lifted from the Kawasaki Ninja ZX-14 — one of the quickest and most powerful motorcycles made today.

The T-Rex design is not new and has undergone some significant changes since Paul Deutschman (he has done bodywork designs for Callaway Cars) created the concept in the early 1990s and the first examples were built with a Suzuki engine in 1996. Campagna bought the rights to the T-Rex design in September 2008, changed very little, and has since produced 112 of the radical machines — the highest rate of production ever for the T-Rex. It plans to produce 200 further examples in 2010, featuring three models — the T-Rex 1400R, the radical-looking T-Rex 1400RR and the roadster-style V13R.

Production starts with a stock Ninja ZX-14, which Campagna purchases complete. Look carefully and you'll notice that much of the bike is used in the T-Rex. Obviously, the entire powertrain — including the exhaust header and mufflers — are integrated into the steel spaceframe, but so are the instrument cluster, turn signals and other secondary controls. Like any good hybrid, little is wasted.

Same Road, Different Journey
This is Campagna's motto. And the T-Rex drives the point home with baseball-bat-to-the-kidney clarity. Take, for example, climbing into the driver seat. First, the steering wheel must be removed — not really a big deal as it is secured by a simple twist-lock mechanism which locates it quickly and solidly. And then if you have a respectable inseam you'll need to bring your knees up to your chest as your butt drops into the seat. It's not awful, but it's also not convenient. At least both the seatback and pedal assembly are adjustable so you can get the driving position right. For large driving rewards one must often pay such a penalty.

Use wide-open throttle in the first two gears and you'll be tiptoeing a fine line between the edge of adhesion and the edge of control.

Now, of course, the view of the road is from hubcap level — literally. In fact, the T-Rex is so low that its highest point — 42 inches — is its center-mounted stop lamp, which is integrated into the roof's bodywork several inches above the driver's head.

This perspective is both awesome and intimidating. On a lonesome, two-lane back road, it's so awesome that Captain Awesome himself would beam with pride had he created the T-Rex. We'd ditch the optional 4-inch windscreen as it serves only to obscure vital details and does little to civilize the intentionally uncivilized experience.

It's low and the road flies by in uninterrupted glory. There's wind. There's noise — some of it good — and there's an uncluttered sense of oneness with the machine and the surroundings. Yes, like a motorcycle. But with a highly amplified sense of speed.

On the freeway, however, the intimidation is too great to ignore. Trucks look like houses. Tractor trailers are skyscrapers, while the occasional bit of road debris — like, say, a recently shed tire tread floating along in mid-lane — looks like a 10-foot-long radial guillotine blade waiting to purge a driver's head from his body should it bounce up between the T-Rex's A-pillars.

Exposure is an issue. As is visibility — both seeing and being seen. Expect motorcycle levels of risk in the T-Rex.

Goes Like Hell
There's no arguing that the T-Rex will show you some moves, with acceleration to 60 mph from a standstill in 4.5 seconds (4.2 seconds with 1 foot of rollout like on a drag strip). The T-Rex is quick, oh, it is. And it will get you in trouble should you fail to exercise a large measure of self control on the street. Its 12.6-second quarter-mile at 112.7 mph means it's no slouch, either. And there are few experiences in all of automobile-dom more satisfying than banging off clutchless, 11,000-rpm upshifts while sitting inches off the ground.

Thing is, even these numbers, which are slower than Campagna claims, are hard to achieve. With minimal low-rpm torque, the T-Rex isn't quick when you roll out of the hole and then modestly open the throttle once the clutch is fully engaged. The other option — revving the engine to make real power and slipping the clutch — easily overwhelms the rear tire, turning it into a boiling mess of smoke and chaos.

And such an occurrence is very, very bad with only one rear wheel, even when you're going straight. As we learned, the T-Rex is not dynamically very similar to anything we've driven before. Do not mistake its oversteer as easy to control like it would be in most modern cars, because it is not.

Use wide-open throttle in the first two gears and you'll be tiptoeing a fine line between the edge of adhesion and the edge of control — a very important distinction here. If you spin the rear wheel aggressively, it forcefully resists staying behind the front wheels. Even the quick hands of experienced drivers can do little to keep it there.

This is especially true once the tachometer sweeps past 7,500 rpm, where the Kawasaki power transforms instantly from frenzied to just plain explosive. Wheelspin is achieved consistently at the top of 2nd and sometimes 3rd gear. It is truly silly.

Go Ahead and Turn, We Dare You
To complement this fantastic power delivery, the T-Rex is capable of delivering a 1.3g in lateral acceleration, so Campagna claims. And if this were true, the T-Rex might be tamable. But we recorded only 0.89g, a far cry from 1.3g. Our test car arrived with a predictably worn rear tire and the fronts weren't new, so maybe worn tires had something to do with it.

Even so, the problem isn't that the tires were worn, but instead that there are only three of them. Sure, they're plenty large for a vehicle of this weight, but three still isn't four. What's more, these BFGoodrich g-Force T/A KDW tires are far from the stickiest tires available. And sticky tires make a huge difference on a vehicle which is inherently low on grip. Even this mean-looking oversize 295/35ZR18 rear tire does little to contain the Kawasaki's punch. Meanwhile, the front tires are sized 205/45ZR16.

Weaving between the slalom cones in the T-Rex is a little like teetering on the edge of a 1,000-foot cliff if you think that maybe, just maybe, you can fly. There is immediate and abundant feedback through the steering, although it utterly lacks any self-centering action, so when you turn the T-Rex, it stays turned. Accordingly, we couldn't help but feel that had we lost grip from the rear end, there'd be no catching it. The resulting 67.2-mph slalom speed is exactly the same as the last Hyundai Genesis Coupe we tested.

The T-Rex requires 139 feet to stop from 60 mph. A 2010 Chevy Corvette Grand Sport stops from this speed in 106 feet. This, again, is probably more a product of worn tires than anything else. Pedal feel is very good, modulation is quite easy and fade is nonexistent.

Back to Reality
The T-Rex has no power steering, no power brakes, no heater or air-conditioning, no audio system, no airbags, no traction or stability control and no warning labels. And sometimes — like when you turn left with any frequency — it smells like fuel. On the overrun during engine braking, our test car (which admittedly needed maintenance) made a racket like Satan himself was trying to pound his way through the bulkhead behind us. The transmission also engaged its reverse gear with the subtlety of tossing a handful of marbles in its gearbox.

In other words, T-Rex makes no apologies for being what it is: a hard-core driving machine for those with stacks of money thick enough to enjoy a toy of this caliber and the desire to be one with the machine and the elements.

Then there's the matter of cost. Our 2009 Campagna T-Rex 1400R rang up an as-tested tally of $53,643 and prices have increased for 2010. That puts the T-Rex square in the realm of the BMW M3, which is a hard spot for any performance vehicle. To this, Campagna spokesman Doug Holland offers, "It's made for style, sport and fun, and there's really no proper comparison to it." It's a statement with which we can't find fault.

Oh, and did we mention that the T-Rex does have a mild amount of cargo space? The saddlebag-style suitcases on its flanks provide 3.67 cubic feet of cargo capacity, which is surprisingly large.

Drive It, You Sissy
We're fairly certain that with enough time behind the wheel a determined driver could make peace with the T-Rex's rather unusual dynamics. It will never be as quick or as capable as a four-wheeled car driven by an equally capable driver, but maybe that's not the point.

Maybe the point is that feeling we got while we hammered it down the empty two-lane back road. Maybe it's that mix of commitment, freedom and fear generated by piloting something so low, raw and rapid that the T-Rex designers were after. If so, they have succeeded.

Like a motorcycle, the T-Rex offers its driver a glimpse into the world of speed unencumbered by glass, sound insulation and other amenities which might serve those less committed. It will make you forget about your job, your bad life choices and most everything else you hate, and force you to think about life in other more basic terms. It will also do so with the constant reminder that you better not get it wrong. And that feeling, like chrome underwear, is something that can't be purchased at any price.

The manufacturer provided Edmunds this vehicle for the purposes of evaluation.