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Here's your chance to own a first-year Dodge Viper with just 333 miles

The Dodge Viper is certainly one of the most outrageous cars to come out of the 1990s, with its cartoon styling, massive 8.0-liter V10 engine, and utter disregard for anything other than performance. The first-generation models are the purest example of the breed, with an assemble-it-yourself toupee roof, side curtains, calf-searing side pipes, no air-conditioning (until '94), no airbags, no ABS, and no traction control. This first-year 1992 Viper is coming to Barrett-Jackson's Scottsdale auction in January and has just 333 miles, making it a near-new example of Chrysler's wild child. Only a couple hundred first-year Vipers were built, making them among the rarest of the breed. All '92 models were red, the same color as the 1989 show car, the overwhelming reaction to which spurred Chrysler to put the car into production as a modern-day Cobra. With the Viper's departure in 2017, the car seems destined to forever remain the improbable offspring of a moment in time. That time has passed, but an ultra-low-miles example like this allows its lucky new owner to chance to experience firsthand what all the fuss was about.

I sold my Viper, but the memories I'll keep

The following is written by auto industry veteran Tow Kowaleski. The words are his own, but the memories now belong to everyone thanks to his willingness to share. If you're an industry veteran with a story to share, contact us at tipsATautoblogDOTcom.
It became the flame that started the fire of belief in the next life of Chrysler.
I just sold a car. Nothing new. Millions do it every day. But my car was a 1995 Dodge Viper, so maybe it was a bit more unique since just 12,000 were built. And like others selling a car that's been a part of the family for close to 20 years, this was a confluence of emotions for me. I was sad to see it go, but happy to have the cash and one less big, shiny, under-utilized object in my life.

The Hemi deserves to die | Opinion

Hi. I'm Byron and I love V8s. I want them to stick around for a long, long time. But not all V8s are created equal, and I will not mourn the passing of the modern Hemi. You shouldn't either. While we may agree that its death is untimely, if you ask me, that's only because it came far too late.  Stellantis’ announcement of its new, turbocharged inline-six that is all but guaranteed to kill off the Hemi V8 has led to quite a few half-baked internet takes. The notion being suggested by some, that automotive media were brainwashed into believing the Hemi was in need of replacement, is so far divorced from reality that I openly guffawed at the notion. Journalists have been challenging Chrysler, FCA and now Stellantis for years to deliver better high-performance engines. The response has always been the same: “Why?” Why replace a heavy V8 with a lighter, all-aluminum one? Why repackage powertrains for smaller footprints and better handling vehicles? Why be better when “good enough” sells really, really well? I too mourn the departure of good gasoline-burning engines, but since when was the Hemi one? HereÂ’s a quiz: Name every SRT model with an all-aluminum engine. TimeÂ’s up. If you named any, you failed. They donÂ’t exist. This isnÂ’t GMÂ’s compact, lightweight small-block, nor is it a DOHC Ford Coyote that at least revs high enough to justify its larger footprint. The Hemi is an overweight marketing exercise that happened to be in the right place at the right time. That time was 2003, when Chrysler was still Chrysler — except it was Daimler-Chrysler and the "merger of equals" was doing a bang-up job of bleeding the company's cash reserves dry while doing virtually nothing to address its mounting legacy costs. "That thang got a Hemi?" was emblematic of the whimsical, nostalgia-driven marketing of the colonial half of the "marriage made in heaven." That was 20 years ago. 20 years prior to that, emissions-choked American V8s were circling the drain faster than a soapy five-carat engagement ring in a truck stop sink.