Saturday 21 May 2022

W182 Toyota Tundra TRD Pro '19



A Japanese pickup truck sounds about as appealing and appropriate to me as an American made kimono. Here in urban, tiny, and densely populated Singapore, we use light, diesel lorries and vans like the Toyota Dyna and HiAce to haul industrial loads from one end of this 42km wide island to another, so you'll have to forgive me if I don't at all understand the point of a 5.8x2.0x1.9m (228.9x79.9x76.6in) truck riding some 270mm (10.63in) above the ground packing 379HP courtesy of a 5.7L V8 using the ever more expensive Putin–free petrol. Oh, and you can load a lorry from three of its four sides, and you won't have to worry if it rains mid drive in a van, none of which applies to a pickup truck.

Not exactly the best shot and not exactly a HiAce but if you're such a hot shot why don't YOU come over and take a better photo then?!

As Yard tells me, pickup trucks are an American cultural thing, and absent its real world capabilities like towing, hauling, and making you feel like you've a big dick driving through a shady town, the only thing I can tell you about the Tundra is how it drives on a racetrack. Irrelevant, you may think, but someone at TRD would be sure to disagree with you. After all, the 2019 Tundra TRD Pro we have under the microscope- er... I mean, magnifying glass this week does come with TRD coils and Bilstein dampers for what the game describes as improved stroke characteristics of the car, which makes me think either a doctor or a prostitute had been hired as a last minute replacement to write the in–game description. Where else have you heard those two words used together?

Your diagnostics just came back, baby, and you're definitely suffering from severe acute head deficiency.

In comparison to last week's '99 Impreza which I had described as handling like an offroad SUV, the Tundra drives much more like a normal car once you get used to being propped up on sky scraping stilts and having to steer farther away from walls on a track. To complement the bespoke suspension components that offer improved stroke characteristics, The TRD Pro has chunky, 285mm Pirelli all terrain tyres and even a better balanced body just to push the point further home, with a weight distribution not unlike that of a typical family sedan, at 56/44 F/R. With similarly sedan like 1.40Hz springs front and rear (1.55Hz rear in GT7), the Tundra really is a truck that you can treat like a car on a racetrack, and that's saying something when I got into trouble treating a car like a car just last week. It's a big shock to me, seeing as the aforementioned trucks and vans I've driven IRL feel rather precarious even at sane city speeds (the exact definition of which notwithstanding. Also, with how much I procrastinate, you'd think I'd have learned by now to stop using relative date terms. Ahh well, I'll change that habit later I guess).


On the default Comfort Medium tyres, the large truck of course struggles to attain the same cornering speeds as a car, with a much wider turning radius even before the tyres start to audibly complain. Drivers then will have to very quickly adjust for and get used to the lower cornering speeds and brake much, much earlier for a corner, despite the four wheel disc brakes mostly doing their part in upkeeping the illusion of driving a normal car. The 5,663cc 3UR-FE V8 engine came as a real surprise to me, with all its torque up top much like the V8 found in the RC F, with nothing in the low end for towing, or 2nd gear no gas, clutch in standing starts that I had come to expect is a necessity among utility vehicles. While it behaves largely the same as a normal family car on a racetrack, the way you need to rev the engine and wring it for every last rpm it can muster is almost like that of many of our favourite sports cars, like the 86 and 911... which is a problem, because this is a utility vehicle and not a sports car—one that is saddled with an automatic gearbox for some stupid reason my small Asian brain can't fathom, which means that the truck often bogs with this peaky engine and widely spaced ratios. For reference, you'll be just about touching 110km/h upshifting at redline in 2nd, and 3rd will noticeably bog even without the sensations of g forces if you drop as much as 10km/h below that. That's a variance of only about 6mph for my imperial friends. What am I driving, a big NA V8 or a Rotary Engine Pickup Truck?


Put on the Sports Hard tyres that GTS defaults every production car to, and that's when things get counterintuitively dicey. The extra grip does mask away most of the truck's problems with cornering speeds and even understeer, lulling drivers into a false sense of security into treating it just like a mildly exciting family car and driving it as such. The problems arise when you treat the Tundra to a downhill trail braking section, such as the ones you'll find on Bathurst or Nürburgring. There, the entire illusion of driving a mildly exciting family sedan completely falls apart, as may well your anatomy: the extra lateral g forces that the uprated Sport Hard tyres bring causes the ultra high profile tyre sidewalls to visibly and perceptibly flex, and what this translates to when driving is that the tyres will suddenly warp and give mid turn well after you've eased weight fully onto them, which in normal car driving theory is when they will have the most grip, leading to a precarious and totally unexpected situations that you have no way to prepare for or correct from, forcing drivers to constantly under drive the truck in anticipation, with at–the–limit driving a very risky gamble at best and a numb and ambiguous crapshoot at worst.


The Tundra also has a nasty habit of breaking out its rear end when you don't intend, and shyly tucking it away when you do. In corner entries where you have to lightly dab the brakes to shave off speed slightly and turn hard into a corner, the sudden movements will cause the unladen rear end of the truck will swing out. Something about the entire package of the Tundra makes it deathly allergic to certain turns, such as that fast, winding downhill section leading into the Foxhole of the Nordschleife, and the blind uphill left hander that it leads to, where many of us had mishaps on race day.


You might think that that would make for a car that's easily Scandi Flickable, but the very conservative 40:60 non–adjustable torque split means that any attempt to hold the slide with the gas just works to correct it instead. On the dirt, the Tundra can get just enough slip angle for an opportunistic photographer to feign some drama on corner entry, and it can even hold a slide if egged on by steering in the same direction as the turn, but by and large it's still a truck that very much wants to keep pointing straight, making it a rather idiot proof tool still, which may not necessarily be a bad thing. It's just... come on, who wouldn't want to see something this majestic going sideways in the mud?! Feels like a HUGE missed opportunity to me! I bought a TRD Pro, did I not? Why am I treated as though I bought a TRD noob instead?


So now that the cards have all been laid bare on the table, how does the Tundra compare to the only other truck in the game, the F-150 SVT Raptor? These two trucks drive largely the same, sharing many of the same defining faults of their class, such as ambiguity, tyre flex, automatic gearboxes, and inopportune tail happiness. Trust me, I spun the Raptor out braking for the second last corner of Fuji, when I never had an issue there even in air–cooled 911s. The main difference is that the Ford has 32HP more but is also 168kg (372lbs) heavier. The Ford is less optimally balanced with a weight distribution of 57/43 F/R, which leads to slightly more understeer when pushed in a deep corner, but its engine is less picky with gears in comparison. Overall, the Ford is a tiny bit quicker around even some of the tightest, most technical courses in this e–sports focused title, like Streets of Willow and Tsukuba, but the overall difference between the two is quite minimal as far as overall times and driving feel is concerned. Unless you're an ultra competitive alien chasing hundredths of a second around a track, you can just pick whichever truck you think looks or sounds best, or even whichever brand you're more loyal to, and you'll do just fine against the other.


Okay, so that comparison's a bit dull. Is there anything else that might offer a more contrasting comparison, then? Why yes of course! With how much I've compared the driving experience of these sporty trucks to a "normal car", how does it fare against... one of the best sports car money can buy today, the Tundra's stable mate, the GR86?


Stupendously closely, actually! The Tundra has the corner exit traction advantage and even the power to slightly extend said advantage out of a corner, though me in the 86 felt like I was going to smash face first into an aluminium wall in every braking zone. With the Tundras punching a wall so high above my car instead of in front of it, I swear following in the Tundra's slipstream results in more lift than drag reduction, to say nothing about the environmental issues and lack of visibility my less courteous colleagues cause with their unladen trucks! Yes, that is my perfectly reasonable, entirely logical, and wholly unassailable excuse for not winning a race in a sports car against a field of pickup trucks!


Going into this week's racing, I hadn't at all expected to find out the utilitarian side of the pickup trucks in a racing game. But, not only do these sport trucks offer a driving experience that closely resembles that of a normal, sensible car, I think the race against the GR86 has proved that trucks can produce lap times that are offensively close to one of the best sports cars money can buy today, which can certainly be argued to be "doing the work" of a sports car. Just don't expect it to be fun, engaging, or even cheap if you do decide that your truck should also do the work of a sports car. In the limiting confines and context of a racing game, these trucks are a fun novelty, like riding a Ferris Wheel. It might be mind blowing the first, second, or even the third time, but once that novelty wears off, you're just left with the empty realisation that you aren't doing much in one, and it's the same, safe thing over and over. Absent an absolute, real life need to haul ass and wade through shallow rivers, I'll just spend half the money the Tundra costs on an 86, which engages me and makes me smile every time I turn the wheel.


...damn, how a truck drives on a racetrack is entirely irrelevant. Who would've thought?

Friday 20 May 2022

W185 GT By Citroën Gr.4

Citroën usually isn't the first company to come to mind at the mention of motorsports—not on tarmac, anyway. And so when the need arose for an RMR racing car bearing the chevrons of Citroën, it should come as no surprise that the car that wound up with that weird honour is a fictional car: meet the GT By Citroën Gr.4 racing car.




With its roots so deeply intertwined with the Gran Turismo franchise, I thought it fitting to attempt a "Stealth" livery on the winged racing car variant of the Citroën, a style of livery that is signature of the Gran Turismo series. The original concept car may have debuted as far back as 2008, but when slapped with just the basic aero parts of Gr.4 and brought to life with custom liveries, the GT By Citroën really looks like it would be right at home in a modern grid consisting the wildest looking cars of today like the Ford GT and Lamborghini Sián. But, because it's a concept car with no need for road legality or ease of access, it HAZARDOUSLY doesn't come with any reverse lights (wink), and sits at a mere 1,211mm (47.7in) tall. If your brain can't process numbers like mine, here it is lined up next to a production based 981 Cayman GT4 Clubsport, the best sports car money can buy, don't @ me.

My freaking helmet's in a higher position than the roofline of the GT!

While the Road Car that was never sold was said to be powered by a 5.4L Ford V8 producing 501HP (373kW) in a package that weighs in at 1,450kg (3,197lbs), the Gr.4 variant has been brought down both in power and mass to be inline with Gr.4 specs at 394HP (293kW) and 1,300kg (2,866lbs) before the current BoP applies, letting it run on level playing field with its equally eccentric peers in Gr.4 from Atenzas to Veyrons. What hasn't appeared to change much is that the GT retains the use of a 7 speed gearbox, being one of the arbitrary select few in Gr.4 to be blessed with a seventh forward gear, giving it an almost literal leg up to its competition in fuel efficiency, acceleration, and even braking.


The good news doesn't end there; in fact, that's just the beginning of a very long list! The GT drives simply impeccably, with instant and proportionate responses from both its featherweight front end and its NA engine. Despite this, the car exhibits incredible stability in the bends like the AWD car that it well might have been, incredibly composed and unfettered by bumps and rumble strips, and generally needing some incredibly stupid driving to upset. The only time I've ever felt the rear end of this car perk up is if I downshift early into 3rd or 2nd with a +2 rear brake bias, and even then, it only helps to rotate the car into the corner if you can handle and exploit it.


Not only does the car turn well, it stops well and goes way better than any fuel sipping car has any right to, too! The GT feels incredibly light on its feet from braking to cornering. Its 7 speed gearbox means that the car can be kept in the meat of its powerband all the time, or letting the car retain much of its acceleration if you're short shifting to save fuel. Case in point, often I find it much more advantageous to downshift into 2nd when braking for a low speed corner for example, only to shift back up to third before accelerating out, and the car doesn't shrug it off nonchalantly as much as it acts as though it were the most natural thing in the world; it's so capable to the point that it doesn't care, because nothing you can throw at it on a racetrack seems to faze it at all.


Now, this is the point in my reviews where I turn around and give you the flipside of the coin, but this week, I genuinely am at a loss for any bad things to say about the GT. It looks good, drives great, is competitive, stable, safe, and consistent. It's everything you'd want in a racecar. And so, when BoP was enabled in our lobby around halfway through the day, I decided to see how well the fictional car made for a fictional class fares against a real car in a real class, and a real favourite of mine, the aforementioned 2016 Porsche Cayman GT4 Clubsport.


At the risk of this review completely derailing into yet another rave and drool session of the 981 Cayman GT4, the me that had been tired and groggy all afternoon from that inhumane heat of Singapore suddenly perked up and started smiling the moment I took a corner in the 981. It's nigh indescribable magic how much that car suits me and behaves EXACTLY as I would think and want it to, almost as though it knows what I want better than I do. One corner, and I knew everything about my decision and verdict in this review, and yet, I have no idea at all with regards to how to justify or even explain it. The Cayman plays with you while retaining the stability and predictability of the GT. It even sounds so much better than the GT (fight me)! It has an indescribable, magical quality, a fun factor that no words can describe that the GT completely lacks. If I had to illustrate with an analogy, the Cayman is a toy and the GT is a tool that both happen to... have the same goal.

...see, I was about to end that last sentence by saying that they happen to do the same thing, but that would be implying that the Cayman can actually hang with the GT on the track.


It can't. Far from it. I felt almost like I was in an entirely separate car class lower than that of the GT, because I was getting out braked into corners and dropped like a sack of hot potatoes on the straights in my 5 speed Cayman. I had nothing with which to fight back to the GTs, nowhere I had an advantage over the Citroëns, aside from them fighting amongst themselves. It was a complete slaughter, even before they dropped me out of their slipstream. Now, the host of our weekly lobbies, Vic, is not only tremendously fast, but also creepily patient, something he proves with giving obnoxiously incompetent morons in our lobbies second chances to prove their malice or innocence before kicking them, but even I suspect he has to be thinking something along the lines of, "That sodding wanker in his fancy Posh had better piss off right this instant!" while somehow being stuck behind me for more than two whole laps. You'll just have to wait for him to say that exact line in his review of this car to confirm it.

(Yes, I do seem to be going through a bit of a Bri'ish phase in my life for some reason.)


I know the Cayman is hobbled by BoP to be incredibly slow on the straights, and its gearing is much wider spaced out than all the cars built for Gr.4 from the ground up, but mind you, my Cayman can still outrun a 4C Gr.4 in the straights! Surely the "Balance" in "Balance of Performance" must mean that a 7 speed fuel sipper car might be slower than my Cayman when both are being ran full tilt? Nope! The acceleration and fuel advantage afforded by its seven forward gears is completely free and seemingly unaccounted for in BoP. I want to stress again that having seven speeds in Gr.4 is completely arbitrary; Yes, the actual GT By Citroën does have a 7 speed gearbox, as does the M4 and 458. But then how do you explain the NC1 NSX and C7 Corvette having only 6 speeds? Hell, why does the GT By Citroën Gr.3 still have a 7 speed?!


And so what did we learn this week? That it pays to be in bed with Kaz if you want a strong representation in his game? Regardless of the hows and whys, it remains an indisputable fact that the GT By Citroën is really, really good in Gr.4. Faultless, even. It's so good that I've had to pull bullcrap excuses out my butt just to say anything bad about it, like how it "never made me feel awake", and how it doesn't sound as good as my favourite car in the class, and perhaps even ever. Maybe what's missing is... a reputation. A legacy. If the GT By Citroën has had any success in real motorsports, then I'll probably be writing things like "the sound of the ICONIC Ford V8 is perfectly encapsulated in the Gr.4 racing car", or "it's not difficult to see how the GT By Citroën earned its countless victories in endurance racing all over the world with this rock solid stability". In other words, Citroën, please make this car a reality? Please? Because the GT By Citroën is so, so close to perfection, and the only semi–valid criticism I can direct towards it is that "it doesn't exist".


...yet.

Monday 16 May 2022

W184 TVR Tuscan Speed 6 '00

I'll admit, my car choice this week was picked solely out of laziness: I've been wanting to test the braking difference between GTS and GT7 for a while now, but aside from COTW, I never ever touch my 2 month old PS5. I got the test done and made a thread about it, but the price to pay for that has been utter chaos and anarchy in our weekly races suffered by everyone, and I sincerely apologise for not picking the RCZ Gr.3 Road Car instead. Maybe if I had picked the Pug, McClarenDesign would've found a ball or two in his purse and joined us after he used up all the balls he had to hold my family at gunpoint demanding to know early what this week's pick is.


Long hood, short deck, big NA engine up front sending power exclusively to the rear via a manual stick and offering drivers absolutely zero aids, I'm tempted to describe the Tuscan as a British Viper. In fact, before I get to my usual thing and tell you about how the car drives, I feel it's imperative to really take a moment to look closely at the two cars and just appreciate how awfully similar they are.


In addition to the classic long hood, short deck FR body style, both cars are primarily built as open top cars, and I find the door shapes and side windows so eerily similar between the two, with a highly raked curve stabbing into the engine compartment up front, a cleaner, flatter curve at the back, and a curvaceous windshield to give excellent visibility from the cockpits.


Where the Tuscan differs from the Viper is that the Tuscan is so insane in its design, it almost makes the Viper's lunacy feel more like a by product of its performance, like Dodge wasn't even trying to make the Viper the poster child for insanity, and TVR were coveting that title I just made up on the spot. The rev counter is digital and dead centre in the dash, with an analogue speedo forming a dome above it, when you would think that it would be the other way around. The brake lights are too low, the turn signals are roof mounted for reasons known perhaps only to Peter Wheeler and his psychotherapists, and the door release button is mounted under the side mirrors for some reason. About the only area in insanity that TVR hasn't tried to upstage the Viper is not having side exit exhausts running through the door sills to cook the occupants of the car alive, because the extra heat might actually be appreciated in chilly Britain.


So then, it's less a British Viper and more like a bastard love child of one, trying its best to upstage and overshadow its father in every area and respect. Who might the mother be in this metaphorical scenario, you might ask? Well, given that the damn thing weighs in at an unbelievably scant 1,100kg (2,425lbs) thanks to a lightweight fibreglass body and the complete absence of any safety equipment, I'd have to say, maybe an Englishwoman by the name of Elise?

Completely Unedited Photo.jpg

The car's brochure leads me to believe that Tuscans with the 3996cc Speed Six engine ought to have come equipped with larger 18 inch wheels and 255mm tyres, but the Tuscan in the game, while having the 4L engine, comes with the standard 16 inch aluminium alloys and slimmer 225mm tyres. Whichever wheel and tyre set you end up with, it seems that the Tuscan doesn't stagger its tyre sizes at all in any event, which serves as yet another slap across the face of common sense and another nudge towards you careening off into the safe, gentle caress of the trackside barrier with every corner you attempt with the car.


Take advantage of all the grip the front end has to offer turning into a corner like a sane tool, and the rear end will be more than happy to swing out, with its sloppy suspension taking all weight off the rear of this perfectly balanced car. Even though the game claims that the Tuscan has rather adequate sounding 1.8Hz springs, the car itself feels like it has a ND Roadster–esque 1.3Hz in practice—the car will exhibit horrendous pitch and roll in any situation other than cruising and standing still. The sloppy suspension makes everything you attempt with the car a precarious exercise, from corner entry, exits, transitions, and everything in between, forcing drivers to be cognizant of where weight is at all times on the car and deliberately conscious of how they treat it every time they approach a corner. In my AE86 review, I said that the 86 deeply romanticises the process of weight transfer; the Tuscan necessitates it by holding the lives of you and those around you prisoner, with the ransom of being treated in a very exacting way that it likes.


Perhaps because of the soft suspension taking all weight off the rear tyres, the car stops as though it were a 1.5 tonne car rather than the 1.1 that it is, with freakishly long braking distances that constantly caught out myself and my peers during race day, ABS on or off. Once you've shaved off enough speed to turn into a corner, you have to carefully nurse the car in, lest you lean the car with slinkies for suspension too much and it overloads the outside tyres into making all grip disappear into a puff of smoke, wherein you will find your perspective of the racetrack magically turned 180° around once the smoke clears. On corner exits, the soggy springs mean that you'll have to watch for both power oversteer and understeer, with the NA Inline 6 having gobs or torque to break grip on the default Sport Hard tyres from low rpm. If the power is put down cleanly through a therapeutic massage of the right pedal, the explosive power simply lifts the front end of the car horrendously, sending the car torpedoing into the outside barrier with understeer and leaving a curvaceous indentation in the wall far higher than the car's ride height of 102mm (4.02in). And if you thought it was scary in low and mid speed corners, wait till you attempt to tackle high speed corners like Suzuka's 130R with a car that has the aerodynamic properties and stiffness of a velvet bra.


Oh, and watch out for kerbs and rumble strips too—they're an instant death sentence without ABS and absent any tactile feedback from the car lost in the digital divide. Avoiding them on certain tracks, such as the braking zone into Laguna Seca's Corkscrew for example, not only requires very hard reprogramming of one's head to actively avoid the shortest, straightest path if it includes rumble strips, but the extra weaving in avoidance just upsets the softly sprung car and causes it to roll, elongating the braking distances which means you have to brake earlier and ARGH, you get the point. It is not fun. Driving the car is as much physical exercise as it is mental. If your grannies ever complain that they got sick of Wii Sports, hook up Gran Turismo Sport and a wheel, and have the try the Tuscan.


So intense is the driving experience of the Tuscan that, during race day, I felt constantly stressed from behind the wheel, and always grateful to have survived any corner without contact. I was soaked in sweat for that whole two hours, and not even just the "my skin's kinda sticky because there's a thin layer of sweat on it" kind of sweat, but the "entire beads of sweat are rolling down my body as though I'm outside running" kind of sweat. The only time I recall being this thoroughly terrified of a car was back in Week 165 when we tested the CHC Nova, and that needed more than more than twice the power of the Speed 6 to scare me like that!

Ahh, but I did say that the Tuscan was akin to being the kid of a Viper instead of a clone. Surely it has some traits from its other parent as well in my atrocious anthropomorphic analogy, the Lotus Elise, beyond simply being lightweight (and having no protection), right?


For starters, the 4L Speed Six engine is a delight thorough and through. So ample is the power from the Inline 6 that I never even noticed how the 2000MY sports car is saddled with a five speed gearbox still until I took my spec sheet screenshots! Despite what common sense might dictate, its power saves me from messes more than it gets me into them, as it helps me salvage a corner entry slide by letting me translate it into a drift, making it look intentional (and it totally was... most of the time... maybe). It has copious amounts of torque from any rpm range above "stall" to break grip on even the uprated Sport Medium tyres we were running on race day, letting drivers hold onto a long gear for an uninterrupted slide. For a car that I've complained to be precarious and imprecise like a slinky, it oddly feels more consistent when going sideways than straight, almost like it wants to. The soft suspension setup does at least let drivers put weight on any corner of the car as they intuit it, and the perfect mass distribution of 50:50 only enables and encourages said smoky shenanigans all the more once all hell has broken loose. It really does feel set up from the factory to drift!


And speaking of balance, I get the feeling that the car has been immaculately and purposefully set up from the factory to be a driver's car; the brake balance has been set from the factory to have just enough to lock up the front under full braking on a level road, and just enough to get the rear tyres to be at their absolute limits, skittish without actually skidding. Under full braking then, you get a car that is just right on that precipice of a knife edge, ready to stop, ready to turn, ready to spin, ready to lock up, ready for all hell to break loose at your command. The Tuscan offers a nigh inimitable driving experience with how raw it is, how it holds nothing back from you, and because of that, how much you can learn about driving from it if you survive the experience.

Nigh inimitable? What else can offer a similar experience to a Speed Six then? Why, funny you should ask!


A Viper, of course! Alongside a TVR Griffith, a second generation Dodge Viper is the other "final boss" of Gran Turismo 1, with the game's eight final licence tests alternating between the two. Okay fine, my Viper isn't red and my TVR isn't a Griffith, but you know what they say about lemons and life. Or blueberries, because my cars are blu- okay this metaphor is going nowhere.

Fittingly, the Viper is also similarly terrifying to drive, sharing so many similarities to the Tuscan as I noted earlier. The snake may weigh in at a hefty chunk more than the British featherweight, at 1,569kg (3,459lbs), but it also has four more cylinders to give 88 more horsepower over the TVR at 448HP (334kW). And so this on track comparison quite simply boils down to a classic David vs. Goliath scenario, of power versus lightness, which the British seem oddly enamoured by for some reason. But what I'm about to say might make them spill their tea in horror and call me a sodding twat or whatever culturally rich and charming insult they'll invent next.

I think the Viper drives better than the Tuscan.


The Viper is feels stiffer sprung despite it not being so in terms of natural frequency. It certainly corners flatter and squirms about less in the bends. It has much stronger brakes, readily locking up its chunkier tyres that are perpetually pressed into the road more by the Viper's increased mass. Despite the biased, tyrannical British governing body of our lobbies crippling my Viper down to 99% power, the 2002 Viper readily kept close with the lighter Tuscan around Tsukuba, one of the tightest and most technical courses in the game. How close? Well, rather than tell you, why don't I show you instead?


The bigger tyres. The stronger brakes. The flatter cornering. The 83 extra horsepower. All of that just to even out its massive 460kg (1,014lbs) handicap to the Tuscan, and the end result is that the Viper runs very closely to the Tuscan on Tsukuba. Anywhere else, I think the Viper will have a clear, pronounced edge in hot lap times over the Tuscan. As an American car, it has its characteristic cost advantage over the Tuscan as well, with the Michigan Menace being some 4.5k cheaper than the Blackpool Bruiser in GTS. Not to mention, the Viper is just easier to drive as a whole in my opinion. Never thought you'd read that previous sentence in your life? I didn't think I was going to write that ever in my life, either.


That all being said, all is not lost for the Tuscan. There's a certain sensation, a certain pocket in its handling envelope I think that gives something intangible the Viper cannot. It's a lairy car that lets you know it wants to play all the time. It will break grip on any of its tyres and give you all the tools to slide it around with controlled precision after it obtains your consent... by taking it from you. Its better balanced body makes weight transfer much more intuitive, its narrower tyres let go more linearly, and it simply feels like it's a car that has had much more thought put into not only playing with the driver, but surprisingly, also in allowing the driver to play with it. The Tuscan's playfulness puts some emphasis on enjoying the drive, imploring drivers to go slow enough to smell the roses and tyre smoke while being fairly and intensely engaging at any speed. That is just something I have never felt an inkling of in a Viper, which won't hesitate to break bones if you break its grip, and hopefully not your own ;) . That the Tuscan can run sidewall to sidewall with a much more focused feeling Viper then, is in itself, a testament and compliment to how capable the it is, even without the upsized wheels and tyres. It just isn't my cup of tea, so to speak.


But then of course, such performance and perilous playfulness is something one should expect from a TVR.

A baby TVR.