Dodge Viper ACR: The Barely Legal Race Car For The Street
When it comes to street cars, the term “downforce” is used quite loosely. Back when Lamborghini rolled out the Gallardo LP-560, they claimed that it had something like 200 pounds more downforce than the original Gallardo. I subsequently hit 200 mph in that caron a runway in Florida—World Class Driving’s 200 MPH Club—and at high speeds, the steering felt spooky, like the front end wanted to float off the road. When I asked a Lamborghini rep whether “more downforce” meant there actually was any downforce, or simply less lift, I learned it was the latter. The car still wanted to fly away, but not quite as badly as before. In the realm of street cars, aerodynamic neutrality is considered an achievement, because at least the car is predisposed to remain earthbound. The Dodge Viper, for instance, makes a negligible 75 pounds of downforce at its 206 mph top speed.
The Dodge Viper ACR, though—that’s another matter.
The ACR brings the usual track-rat hardware that you’d expect on a hardcore performance machine, equipment like carbon-ceramic brakes, super-sticky tires and height-adjustable coil-over Bilstein suspension. But the differentiating factor, the one that will likely ensure lap-time dominance from the Nurburgring to New Jersey Motorsports Park, is the aero package. Specifically, the optional “Extreme Aero Package.” So fitted, the Viper’s top speed drops from 206 mph to 177 mph. But at 177, it’s making 1,710 pounds of downforce. And the various wings, trays and escarpments start to have an effect before you’re even out of first gear. This is a downforce car, the real deal, a complete alien among raced-up street cars.
To get the most out of a downforce car, you must embrace the idea that higher speeds equate to more grip, the counterintuitive notion that sometimes you’ll need to go faster to make a corner. You might need to be a race driver. Thankfully, Yahoo! has one, in Mr. Alex Lloyd. And when Dodge introduced the ACR at Virginia International Raceway, I met up with Alex to find out what the Viper could do in the hands of someone who’s set a 225-mph lap at Indy.
Chrysler, no dummies, required us to drive with an instructor riding shotgun, someone to call foul if we began to feel too aero-invincible. Apparently nobody told these people thatAlex might have a slightly more advanced skill set than the rest of the journalists, and his first instructor had a fit or two of apoplexy, something along the lines of “You’re gonna kill us all, driving like that!” Alex, too gracious to pull a “Do you know who I am?” retort, simply slowed down.
Apparently, someone later clued her in to his resume, because I later saw her approach in the pits and apologize. Alex, of course, was gracious. I wondered why none of the instructors—including that one—ever admonished me to slow down.Actually, I do know. It’s because I never trusted the aero, never fully bought into the ideathat this car can handle VIR’s climbing esses probably as quick as you’d care to take them, with 1.5-g of sustained high-speed lateral grip at your disposal. As Alex points out,“It takes some time to wrap your head around the idea that, ‘I don’t have the grip for this corner right now, but if I go 10 mph faster then I will.’”
Many cars with aero accouterments wear them as an affectation of speed, but on the ACR it’s all to a purpose. The front splitter and rear diffuser are designed as consumable parts, replaceable when you grind them away on the track. (And despite springs that are twice as stiff as a Viper T/A’s, you do bottom out in corners thanks to the heavy hand of downforce). Carbon dive planes adorn the front fenders. The greatest feature is the removable fender vents, which allow air to blow out the top of the fender rather than linger around and create any hint of lift. There are these giant holes atop the fenders, and you peer down through and see the tires right there, just like the NASCAR-ready Plymouth Superbirds of yore. It’s the closest thing to an open-wheel car you’re going to see on the street.
Most cars, even ones that are built to a particular goal, are compromised in some way. Not the Viper ACR. Everything about it serves the goal of going as fast as possible on a racetrack, from the specially developed Kuhmo Ecsta tires to those ceramic Brembos to the 10-position Bilstein Motorsport suspension. It’s a thunderous, rough-riding, gas-guzzling, $117,895 two-seat track slayer. This is the Viper at its best—and its worst, for that matter. The air conditioning stops working when you’re at full throttle, so the Chrysler engineers told us we could be hot with the windows up, or hot with them down. Our choice.
The last ACR wore a map of the Nurburgring on its wing, symbolizing its ownership of the Nordschleife production-car lap record. The new ACR hasn’t yet collected that trophy, but it’s probably only a matter of time. “I’ve never driven a street car with downforce like that,” Alex said when he pulled into the pits. And maybe he still hasn’t. This is a racecar with a license plate
