2008 Ford Crown Victoria Police Interceptor Sedan 4-door With Lights & Sirens on 2040-cars

Auto blog

Is it time for American carmakers to give up on dual-clutch transmissions? [w/poll]

Last week, in the midst of Detroit's first days seeking relief in Chapter 9 of the bankruptcy code, Automotive News contributor Larry P. Vellequette penned an editorial suggesting that American car companies raise the white flag on dual clutch transmissions and give up on trying to persuade Americans to buy cars fitted with them. Why? Because, Vellequette says, like CVT transmissions, they "just don't sound right or feel right to American drivers." (Note: In the article, it's not clear if Vellequette is arguing against wet-clutch and dry-clutch DCTs or just dry-clutch DCTs, which is what Ford and Chrysler use.) The article goes on to state that Ford and Chrysler have experimented with DCTs and that both consumers and the automotive press haven't exactly given them glowing reviews, despite their quicker shifts and increased fuel efficiency potential compared to torque-converter automatic transmissions.
Autoblog staffers who weighed in on the relevance of DCTs in American cars generally disagreed with the blanket nature of Vellequette's statement that they don't sound or feel right, but admit that their lack of refinement compared to traditional automatics can be an issue for consumers. That's particularly true in workaday cars like the Ford Focus and Dodge Dart, both of which have come in for criticism in reviews and owner surveys. From where we sit, the higher-performance orientation of such transmissions doesn't always meld as well with the marching orders of everyday commuters (particularly if drivers haven't been educated as to the transmission's benefits and tradeoffs), and in models not fitted with paddle shifters, it's particularly hard for drivers to use a DCT to its best advantage.
Finally, we also note that DCT tuning is very much an evolving science. For instance, Autoblog editors who objected to dual-clutch tuning in the Dart have more recently found the technology agreeable in the Fiat 500L. Practice makes perfect - or at least more acceptable.

Junkyard Gem: 1971 Mercury Comet 2-Door Sedan

When Ford introduced the original Maverick for the 1970 model year, Dearborn tradition required that a Mercury-badged version be created. That car ended up being the Comet, built from the 1971 through 1977 model years. Here's one of those first-year Comets in rough but recognizable condition, found in a Denver self-service yard not long ago. The Comet name had spent the 1960s affixed to the flanks of Mercurized Ford Falcons (1960-1965) and Fairlanes (1966-1969). Since the Maverick was the successor of the Falcon — sales of which went into an irrecoverable downward spiral once its sportier Mustang first cousin hit the streets — it made sense to move the Comet name over to the Mercury version. Nearly every American Mercury model ever sold was a U.S.-market Ford model with a different name and some gingerbread slapped on. Notable exceptions to this tradition include the 1999-2002 Mercury Cougar (mechanically based on the Contour but with a unique body) and the 1991-1994 Mercury Capri (an Australian-built mashup of Mazda components borrowed from the Ford Laser). The Comet was by far the cheapest Mercury model available in 1971, though it was considered more prestigious than its Maverick counterpart. The price tag on the '71 Comet two-door sedan started at $2,217 (about $16,505 in 2022 dollars), while the '71 Maverick two-door sedan cost $2,175 ($16,193 today). Meanwhile, AMC would sell you a new Hornet two-door sedan for one dollar less than a Maverick, Chevrolet had the Nova coupe for a dollar more than the Maverick, and Plymouth offered the Valiant Duster for $2,313 ($17,220 now). Toyota had a Maverick competitor as well that year, with the Corona at $2,150 for the sedan and $2,310 for the coupe. Having driven every one of the aforementioned models, I'd take the Duster if I went back in time and had to choose one (as a 1969 Corona owner, I'm not a fan of the 1971 facelift, though the Corona's build quality beats the Duster's). The build sticker on this car tells us that it was built at the Kansas City Assembly Plant (where Transits and F-150s are made today) and sold through the Los Angeles district sales office (there was a DSO in Denver, so it's a near-certainty that this car didn't start out in Colorado). The paint started out as Bright Blue Metallic (it's neither bright nor metallic 51 years down the road) and the interior was done up in Medium Blue Cloth & Vinyl.

Michigan ponders its automotive future in the connected age

Few people take cars more seriously than Michiganders. I've been to the home of BMW in Germany. I've been to Kia's HQ in Korea. I've seen Honda's goods in Japan. No one, from the factory worker to the executive in her pinstriped suit, is more obsessed with cars than Michigan Inc. That's why it was interesting this week to see the state have a moment of introspection four hours north of the Motor City on a scenic island called Mackinac. Ironically, cars are not allowed here. Normally a tourist trap, it played placed host to the Mackinac Public Policy conference this week. While politics took center stage ( I may be the only person here not considering a run for governor) the evolution of the industry through connectivity and data was a theme of the conference. If you're reading this in New York, Silicon Valley, or one of the automotive heartlands listed above, you do care about this. If Michigan rethinks its approach to the car business – and makes moves to become more competitive – that affects you the consumer and enthusiast. It's jobs. It's technology, and it's a competition to see who's going to be the leader. More than a century after Henry Ford made mass production a thing, more than 70 years after Detroit's Arsenal of Democracy helped win World War II, and nearly a decade after the historic bankruptcies of General Motors and Chrysler, the car business is on solid footing again and looking to the future. What's next? Michigan is still home to thousands of auto workers, tech centers (including gleaming facilities built by Toyota and Hyundai), and the headquarters of the three American carmakers. Just because the economy is good doesn't mean it's a given connected cars and mobility advancements are going to come from this state. A lot of it's not. Tesla, Uber, Lyft, Faraday Future, and other transportation mediums have spouted up other places. Michigan leaders and Detroit's carmakers understand this reality. Reflecting on the past means admitting the future is not a given, a key undertone this week in Mackinac. It's about using existing resources, like skilled labor, to move forward. "We do have the number of technicians and technical expertise here in this state," says Stephen Polk," conference chair and former CEO of auto data firm R.L. Polk & Co. To that end, Ford is placing increased emphasis on a division called Smart Mobility, which is an in-house unit focusing on autonomy, connectivity, and forward-looking ideas.