Testosterone-fueled muscle cars make a comeback

Horsepower is back, and in a heart-attack serious way. All the sensible, Prius-driving, practical folk who have a hard time believing that should spend an afternoon with Tim Kuniskis, preferably in the passenger seat of his latest creation.

Hybrid, meet Hellcat, a 4,400-pound growling blast from the past with all the modern safety features but a monster under the hood. Press on the gas pedal like you mean it and 707 horses come to life. You'll be at 60 miles per hour in a few seconds and cover the first quarter-mile in 11 or so.

"When I get in it, I remember this is what got me excited about cars in the first place," said Kuniskis, the CEO of Dodge and an unapologetic fan of the American "muscle cars" of the 1960s and early '70s.

He is not alone. For the first time in several generations, American car buyers are presented with a handful of high-octane, high-powered vehicles that rival any for performance at an affordable price. It's a classic test of need versus want, and the Big Three U.S. manufacturers have doubled down on the latter.

Why 700 horsepower, a level never before achieved in a mass-market production car? It's not as if the SRT version of the Challenger is a slouch at 485 HP.

"Why not?" Kuniskis said. "That's the response from the people who want to buy them."

Such people make up a small portion of car buyers, of course, but they know what they want and don't blink about paying for it. When the Hellcat was formally announced, Dodge had orders for 6,000 in a few weeks. Muscle car sales overall have gone up steadily in recent years. Ford and Chevrolet sell 75,000 to 80,000 of them a year, Dodge around 55,000. Those numbers are projected to keep rising as newer versions are introduced.

Only about 60 percent of those cars fall into the high-horsepower category. Prices for those typically run from about $40,000 to $70,000. In other words, the market is limited and will never be a major profit center for the Big Three, which still make much of their money on trucks and SUVs.

A second car war

Yet the executives are committed to them. And they have given the teams that design them a lot of latitude in pushing the performance envelope. The Dodge Challenger Hellcat edition may have crossed an unprecedented threshold, but in truth it's a relatively small step above the competition in serving a newfound consumer lust for power. Chevrolet and Ford offer bruiser versions of their popular Camaro and Mustang lines, in so doing reprising the "pony car war" waged by the Big Three from about 1968 to 1972.

That war ended long before Terra Nicolay knew what a muscle car was. But when Dodge launched its Hellcat in Pony War 2.0, she rushed to get her order in. As luck would have it, she got the first one delivered to Houston. Nicolay, 46, already had a Challenger Yellowjacket, a special version of its SRT model. She wanted more - more power, more of a statement.

"Nothing brings one into the now and here more than driving this car," she said.

Truth be told, each of the top-of-the-line muscle cars delivers outrageous speed from their supercharged V8 engines. Even if the Camaro and Mustang are below 700 HP, it should be noted they weigh significantly less. But speed alone is not really what a muscle car is all about. Lots of cars go fast, from the European supercars such as Ferrari and Lamborghini to the lightweight Japanese street racers of the Fast and Furious crowd to the venerable Chevy Corvette and Dodge's exotic Viper.

A muscle car is attitude. It has a stance that reeks of testosterone and challenge, a presence and a sound that demands to be noticed, like the loudest guy at a party. Chrysler gained attention when it wrapped its earlier muscle cars in flamboyant colors: Top Banana, Furious Fuchsia, Plum Crazy, Green With Envy. And when it reintroduced the Challenger, the colors came with it.

A purple Honda Civic? Uh, no.

"They are a little more visceral," Kuniskis said. "They are louder with loud colors and loud sound systems. They are different, unique, and make you think of something totally American."

For those who love speed and have an emotional connection to the heritage of Detroit iron, this may in fact be the golden age, even if the late 1960s and early '70s offered more variety. John Hennessey, whose nationally known company near Sealy modifies modern performance cars whose owners want even more speed, said the old cars cannot hold a candle to the new ones in any respect, be it power, driveability or comfort.

"There's never been such an amazing offering of cars," Hennessey said. "People talk about the '60s and '70s being the glory days of the muscle car. No, it's right now."

While these vehicles may not exactly dominate the sales charts, accounting for less than five percent of total sales, their significance is not proportionate to the number sold, said Eddie Alterman, editor-in-chief of Car and Driver magazine. He called them "halo" cars, vehicles that sit proudly at the top of the engineering and design pyramid.

"What these cars mean for Detroit is heritage," Alterman said. "They carry the value of the companies and the history of the companies with them. They are not insignificant. They are great brand carriers."

Even if customers end up buying a family sedan or economy coupe, often it is the exciting and too-cool muscle car that gets people into the showroom, he said.

"It's a very significant part of the sales ecosystem," Alterman said.

Fueled by baby boom

Back in the day - and a brief day it was, as fortune would have it - two things could get a teen boy's blood pumping as none other: sneaked peeks at dad's hidden Playboy and a ride in a rich friend's GTO.

The baby boom was growing up and feeling its oats. Sex, drugs and rock-and-roll may have been the undeniable theme of the day, but the snarl of a big-block V8 could be heard in the background. The Beach Boys weren't the only band writing spirited love songs - to their cars.

Such was life before the Arab oil embargo, high gas prices, concerns over safety and government-imposed emission controls. Cars did not have computers, and neither did the people who owned them. Detroit still ruled the auto world, and the tire-screeching so-called muscle car was its bad-boy crown prince.

Then, in an instant, it was a gasping dinosaur. Those boys became men, and then fathers. Smog filled the skies. Detroit gave way to Tokyo, whose cars sipped gas and rolled along quietly. Horsepower, once the staple of so many automotive conversations, rarely was spoken of. People settled for comfort, heated seats, leather everywhere.

But a funny thing happened. In a real-life variation on Jurassic Park, the muscle cars returned. Those fathers had become grandfathers, with kids long gone and money in the bank. It seems they didn't want to drive off into the sunset in a four-cylinder silver Camry.

"The baby boomer empty-nester with disposable income - there is no question that fuels an awful lot of this," said Jim Owens, self-professed horsepower enthusiast and the marketing manager for Ford's Mustang GT350 team. "That reignited the passion for these cars."

It certainly did for Mike Grieco, a 57-year-old Houston automation software specialist who happened to be at the Keels and Wheels vintage car and boat show in Seabrook a few years ago. It was there, unexpectedly, that he came across a restored Plum Crazy 1970 Challenger alongside a just-released modern version in the same color. He had to have one.

"It's back because (of) all these years of lame cars, these cookie-cutter cars," Grieco said of the Challenger. "You can't tell one from the other. People were looking (for) something noticeable. You couldn't get that for years. You couldn't stand out."

But the Big Three did not resurrect the muscle car for the dwindling niche of people like Grieco who loved the cars when they were young but couldn't afford them. That market would burn out quickly. The hope was that the surge of rekindled ardor would grab the attention of younger generations who had grown up driving and riding in generic vehicles that often were seen as an appliance to get from here to there.

Behind the wheel

So far, so good. Kinuskis said that the average Challenger buyer is 43 years old, meaning they were still babies when Dodge released its Hemi-packing '70 Challenger, among the most revered of muscle cars. Some remembered the car, along with the iconic '69 Camaro and the Mustang GT500. But they had not driven one. And to appreciate a muscle car, you have to get behind the wheel and punch it.

A recent television ad by Ford featured average drivers doing exactly that with the new Mustang GT. There was no boasting announcer, no rundown of features, just smiling men and women, mostly young, hearing the roar of the specially tuned exhaust and feeling the car's surge as they pressed on the throttle - the joy of muscle 21st century-style.

"It goes to an emotional connection you feel with the car," said Monte Doran, communications manager for Chevrolet's Camaro and Corvette division. "These are not cars that you buy for basic transportation."

Which is not to say they don't serve that function, depending on one's definition of basic. The essential difference between today's muscle car, the executives who build them say, is that they are safe, comfortable and enjoyable to drive on a daily basis. The muscle car of yore often failed on all three counts.

"You can take it to the track, then you can drive it to work," Doran said. "The cars are so much better than they were."

It's far from certain that the new golden era is here to stay. Tastes change. Gas could go way up in price. But Kuniskis has confidence that the new home-grown performance cars will have a lasting impact, one way or another. Millions of over-30 adults grew up with cars that were increasingly reliable but totally forgettable. If nothing else, the Hellcat demands to be remembered.

From kitten to Hellcat

For Terra Nicolay, there is no way she will forget the moment she first heard the rumble of her newest car in person. Her Challenger Yellowjacket was not short on power, boasting some 450 HP, but it seemed like a kitten compared to the black beast standing before her.

"When I went to pick it up, the salesman who drove it to the front said it scared him," Nicolay said.

As well it should. The intimidation factor is real, she acknowledged. The Hellcat is a stop-in-midsentence, put-down-the-phone type of car. When it revs, it roars. She knew she had to have one as soon as she heard about it.

"In a world of too many distractions, its beauty, power and … crazy engineering come together in a moment of enraptured attention."

Which is a fancy way of saying yahoooooo! The Hellcat promises to live up to its name - every inch a challenge - so driving it well means proving something. To her, at least. It's not just about seeking thrills but achieving mastery, she said.

"Isn't the woman who tames and controls that power a pretty powerful force herself?"