1994 Dodge Viper RT/10 Meets 2009 Dodge Viper SRT10

For the time being, the Dodge Viper is a zombie, stuck between the living and the dead. Reanimation into the realm of the living is scheduled for next year, but since this past July when the last 2010 Viper rolled off the Conner Avenue Assembly line in Detroit, Chrysler's iconic sports car has been among the undead. And there's nothing better than a good zombie attack.

The Viper has always been an asp of uncompromising kickass. It started as a notion in Bob Lutz's head back in the late '80s when he worked at Chrysler and first appeared in gasp-inducing concept form at the 1989 North American International Auto Show in Detroit. The styling was a riff on Cobra themes, with the ludicrous promise of an 8.0-liter V10 under its phallic hood adding to its thunderous automotive sucker punch. It was exactly the sort of car no one back then believed would or could actually be put into production. But less than three years later Dodge, then the maker of minivans and a seemingly endless series of boxes based on the K-Car, put it into production anyhow.

The Zombie Viper was/is audacious, arrogant, insane and one of the greatest cars ever built in America. And that's from the moment it went on sale in 1991 until the second it left production in 2010. The next Viper had better be just as ludicrous.

Crude, Rude And Wonderful
Except for a stainless-steel exhaust system, Randy DuBois' 1994 Viper RT/10 roadster must be one of the most well-preserved original Vipers on earth. With slightly more than 4,000 miles showing on the odometer it's original from the bottom of its massive Michelin XGT radials on factory 17-inch wheels to the top of where the roof should be. But though his car is preserved, Randy isn't a preservationist; he brought the car out to Inside Line's not-so-secret test site at Auto Club Speedway in verdant Fontana, California, and let us beat on it. "Beat" as in, you know, scientifically test.

For perspective, IL's long-term 2009 Dodge Viper SRT10 coupe was also in attendance. Though it's far younger than DuBois' open-topper, the IL coupe had a full 17,000 miles on its ticker and the once-robust Michelins holding it up were showing some wear. "Wear" as in, you know, getting greasy.

This isn't a car that was filtered through a focus group of pansies...

Approaching DuBois' Viper with 2010 eyes, it's primitive. Of course the old three-spoke wheels look dated, but it's details like how the trunk hinges are crudely attached, how insubstantial the wispy K-Car inside door handles seem, the generic sound system and HVAC controls, and a steering wheel that looks fresh from J.C. Whitney that immediately catch the eye. There is a lot of parts-bin engineering in the original Viper and it's impossible to miss.

Primitive though it may be, the original Viper is still undeniably provocative. This is a car that looks like it wants to race even when it's stuck behind a minivan in the drive-through at Jack in the Box. It's more sexualized than all the pornography in Japan. If this car had been around in 1969, the Rolling Stones would have hired it instead of the Hell's Angels to provide security at Altamont. This is one nasty automobile.

It's only in contrast to its older brother that the 2009 Dodge Viper SRT10 seems conservative and refined. Gone are the old car's voluptuous curves in favor of creases, elegantly sculpted fenders and real side windows that roll up. In place of the old car's huge unwieldy one-piece clamshell hood, the new car has a conventional lid that fits perfectly and is surely cheaper to fix after a collision, but it's nowhere near as dramatic to open. The newer Viper is still instantly identifiable as a Viper; still virtually uncompromised compared to softies like the Corvette; and still obviously vicious. But no, it's not the embodiment of pure villainy the original was.

Power To Destroy
Back in 1991, when the Viper went on sale as a 1992 model, 400 horsepower from an 8.0-liter all-aluminum OHV V10 seemed (and was) huge. The only other domestic car with power near that level was the Corvette ZR1 — the one with the 405-hp 32-valve DOHC LT5 V8 — and the Mustang GT was poking along with a 205-hp rating from its 5.0-liter V8. Today the Mustang GT's 5.0-liter V8 is rated at 412 hp and 400 hp seems almost ordinary.

Ordinary is, however, not a word that applies to the original Viper. Coming off DuBois' drive to Fontana from his home in Simi Valley, his Viper RT/10 made that unmistakable V10 drone. And as we approached the side of the car after he parked it, the heat from the side exhaust felt as if it were trying to roast our shins. This isn't a car that was filtered through a focus group of pansies and engineered to work well in Avis' airport fleet.

Each of the RT/10's 400 horses is a steroid-popping Clydesdale. Yes, the 2011 Mustang GT has 412 hp aboard, but its torque production maxes out at 390 lb-ft when it's spinning at 4,250 rpm. In contrast, the old RT/10's monster motor slugs out 450 lb-ft of peak torque at just 3,600 rpm and makes ungodly gobs of twist from just off idle up to its 6,000-rpm redline. The new Mustang 5.0-liter may outpoint the RT/10 in horsepower, but it doesn't pull hard like the old Viper motor.

The newer SRT10 is, if anything, mechanically more radical. Press its ignition button and the car seems to rock on its springs just from the twist of the starter motor. At idle the 8.4-liter version of the V10 cackles with menace and the side pipes fire up like Chernobyl. This is a car with a staggering 600 hp available to any driver nutty enough to tip his Florsheim into its throttle, and peak torque is now a monstrous 560 lb-ft at 5,000 rpm.

But despite the difference in years and engine output, what's startling about these two is how similarly they drive. On launch both cars want to either bog or boil up their Michelins in smoke. The trick for either is to let the clutch out quickly, accept that there will be a chirp from the tires and then let the engine's torque pull the car through each gear. Do that and both cars are agonizingly fast.

The Blitz
The SRT10's acceleration is no surprise. The trip from zero to 60 mph only takes 3.9 seconds, with the quarter-mile blazing by in just 11.7 seconds at 124.8 mph. Yes, there are quicker cars like the Porsche 911 Turbo, various Ferraris and various other exotics. The current, supercharged Corvette ZR1 nearly matches the SRT10 with its 3.9-second 0-60 time and 11.7-second clocking through the quarter-mile, with a slightly better 127 mph trap speed.

But really, nothing else pulls like the mega-displacement Viper SRT10. The sensation of torque is so overwhelming it feels like it's crushing your chest as the car reaches for its terminal velocity. The acceleration doesn't flatten your eyeballs, but instead feels like it's trying to squeeze them right out of your head.

Even in closed-coupe form, the SRT10 is a full-immersion automobile. You're right in the middle of the action with the burly six-speed transmission running the length of your right leg, that side exhaust running the length of your left leg and your feet crammed into a small toe box a few inches from the largest-displacement engine (until recently) available in a production passenger vehicle. You don't just hear the gears in the tranny, you feel them in the entire structure of the car. You don't need a temperature gauge; just wear flip-flops and you can tell how hot the engine is running through your toes.

All the cars that are incrementally faster are monumentally more expensive than the Viper SRT10, and even those can't duplicate its primal mechanical nature.

What's amazing is that, while it only offers two-thirds the power, the old Viper RT/10 delivers pretty much the same wallop.

Frankly, and in many ways to its own credit, the original Viper RT/10 is a kit car. So what's battened down in the latest Viper is really just sort of loose-fit in the RT/10. Start the RT/10 and the whole body seems to ripple over a sea of shims and variable thickness fiberglass. So even today, 400 hp feels fast in the RT/10.

Nearing its 17th birthday and still wearing rock-hard original rubber, the RT/10 still romped to 60 mph in 4.8 seconds and ripped through the quarter-mile in 12.8 seconds at 113 mph. That's better than what many magazines reported for the '92 Viper RT/10 when it first went on sale. And that's still quicker than any 2011 Mustang GT or 2010 Camaro SS that Inside Line has tested. And after you've extracted maximum performance from an old Viper you feel like a driving super-stud.

Brutal
Short of a racing machine, there aren't any cars more difficult to get in and out of than the latest Viper SRT10 coupe. The roof is low, the doorsill is Mississippi River wide and the whole seating area is narrow. If you're heavier than 200 pounds, it's best to employ a block and tackle. If you're more than 300 pounds, getting in is simply a matter of falling in the right way. But don't try getting out of the car until you've lost at least 100 pounds.

At 98.8 inches the SRT10's wheelbase is 2.6 inches longer than the original RT/10's, but it's still a short-coupled car. The steering is heavy (after all, you're muscling around a pair of 275/35ZR18 Michelin Pilot Sport PS2s) and the sensation of grip seems infinite. Until, that is, you run out of infinite.

Even with its rear 345/30ZR19 Michelins worn down to the consistency of Creamsicles, the SRT10 stuck on the skid pad to a whirling 1.02g and blazed the slalom course at a scalding 73.2 mph. That's an All-World handling performance. But there are limits, and once they've been exceeded the SRT10 is unforgiving. If you have the reflexes of Samuel Hubinette, then you can catch the car and drift it. If you're mortal with a functioning self-preservation gene, you'll just be terrified. And then you'll crash.

The old car's 275/40ZR17 front and 335/35ZR17 rear Michelin XGTs were hard enough to limit the car's stick to just 0.93g on the skid pad and the slalom speed to 67.6 mph. But the challenge in driving the old car is much the same as the new one. There's still heavy steering and the sensation of no limits when there definitely are limits. This, after all, is a car you buy because it bites.

Two Cars, One Idea
The Viper has never been a car for beginners. It's the sports car you buy after you've wrecked a couple of Corvettes and your brother-in-law has been named CEO of State Farm. Old or new or anywhere in between, the Viper remains a singular and extraordinary automotive experience. From the anvil-touch necessary to shift the Tremec six-speed to how the rear end squirms over those big tires under acceleration, Dodge has created and sustained something very special.

For a full 19 model years Dodge never let the Viper veer much from its hard-core, uncompromising, flat scary roots. If the next Viper comes modified into something squishy soft like the Ferrari California or Mercedes SL, we'd rather they kill the car altogether. If it's civilized down into something that can compete lease-for-lease with the Corvette, we'll consider it a cruel betrayal.

We need our Vipers just as nasty as they've ever been. Otherwise let them roam the earth as the undead. After all, zombies are nothing if not entertaining.

The manufacturer and an owner provided Edmunds these vehicles for the purposes of evaluation.