2024 Dodge Hornet R/t Plus on 2040-cars

Auto blog

Question of the Day: Most heinous act of badge engineering?

Badge engineering, in which one company slaps its emblems on another company's product and sells it, has a long history in the automotive industry. When Sears wanted to sell cars, a deal was made with Kaiser-Frazer and the Sears Allstate was born. Iranians wanted new cars in the 1960s, and the Rootes Group was happy to offer Hillman Hunters for sale as Iran Khodro Paykans. Sometimes, though, certain badge-engineered vehicles made sense only in the 26th hour of negotiations between companies. The Suzuki Equator, say, which was a puzzling rebadge job of the Nissan Frontier. How did that happen? My personal favorite what-the-heck-were-they-thinking example of badge engineering is the 1971-1973 Plymouth Cricket. Chrysler Europe, through its ownership of the Rootes Group, was able to ship over Hillman Avanger subcompacts for sale in the US market. This would have made sense... if Chrysler hadn't already been selling rebadged Mitsubishi Colt Galants (as Dodge Colts) and Simca 1100s as (Simca 1204s) in its American showrooms. Few bought the Cricket, despite its cheery ad campaign. So, what's the badge-engineered car you find most confounding? Chrysler Dodge Automakers Mitsubishi Nissan Suzuki Automotive History question of the day badge engineering question

2016 Dodge Viper ACR First Drive [w/video]

The Dodge Viper is not a comfortable car. Livable, yes. The interior is covered in fine materials. But you still climb over a hot door sill to enter the tiny cabin. And the frequency range of the engine's noises seem specifically designed to cause headaches. What happens, then, if you remove all pretense of civility from a Viper and add equipment solely aimed at improving lap times? You would have the 2016 Dodge Viper ACR. In terms of achieving its purpose, this car is a absolute success. In many ways it's also the most honest Viper of the current generation. Prices start at $121,990 (including $2,100 gas-guzzler tax and $1,995 destination), or $32,900 more than the least expensive Viper. In ACR trim, the Viper loses the under-carpet padding, 9 of 12 speakers plus amplifier, carpet and trim from the cargo area, and sound deadening in front of the rear wheel wells. The parts of the interior still covered add healthy amounts of Alcantara or optional carbon fiber. That weight loss is compensated by the addition of go-fast bits like the giant rear wing (or the larger "x-wing" on the Extreme Aero Package), 10-way adjustable Bilstein Motorsports shocks, Brembo carbon-ceramic brakes, a rear diffuser, and a front splitter. Total claimed curb weight is 3,392 pounds in Aero trim (standard ACR trim is 18 pounds lighter), which is within a few stone of the rest of the Viper lineup. The diffuser strakes and leading edge of the splitter are removable, made to be replaced after rubbing on track tarmac and make street driving slightly more practical. Not that you'd want to drive the ACR on the street, with the lack of noise insulation and spring rates twice as stiff as the Viper TA, but it is street-legal. Dodge claims the DOT-approved Kumho Ecsta V720 tires on the ACR allow faster lap times than some race compound tires. Our test was limited to on-track shenanigans at Virginia International Raceway. Which is fitting because we wouldn't have anything good to say about driving the car on the street. The ACR is, essentially, a race car sold in the showroom, although with the Viper's 1 of 1 customization program, your custom build can include as many creature comforts as you like. Lined up in pit lane at VIR, the Viper ACRs for our evaluation blur the air with heat shimmer. All of the test cars have air conditioning, but that shuts off at full throttle with a six-second reset.

Dodge lets us drive 100-years' worth of history [w/videos]

A raft of important production models from the last hundred years were available for me to either drive or ride in.
Dodge is 100 years old this year. So, as happened on Ford's recent centennial, the 50-year birthday of the Porsche 911, and others, the company has an excuse to trot out the highlights of its history next to its upcoming model lineup, and declare that "these are the fruits of the Dodge Boys' tree whose roots have grown strong." Or something like that. Never so hampered by marketing skepticism that I'll pass up the opportunity to burn someone else's rubber, I was happy to drive out to Meadow Brook Hall in Rochester Hills, MI - former grand estate of the Dodge family - to hear the spiel.