2013 Ford Mustang Shelby GT500
No trust fund required for this blue-collar, 200-mph monster.
May 2012
BY SAM SMITH
Voltaire once wrote, “The superfluous, a very necessary thing.” What, then, should we make of a warranty-equipped Ford Mustang with 662 hp and a claimed 200-mph top speed? Is there a deeper philosophical argument to be made about the necessity of a live-axle production car with more power than an overclocked supercollider? Does the vehicle in question—the 2013 Ford Shelby GT500—teach us about the nature of right and wrong, indulgence and restraint?
Perhaps. But mostly, it just hauls mind-bending ass. Be a good, excess-loving American, and don’t overthink it.
With a car like this, you inevitably focus on the numbers: The $54,995 GT500 coupe likely will turn in a 0-to-60 sprint of 3.7 seconds. Ferociously tall gearing means that third gear is good for 140 mph and first gear is long enough to reach highway speeds. Even so, the quarter-mile should pass in 11.7 seconds. Slam a redline shift from second to third, and you’ll hear the rear tires chirp.
A college professor of mine once used the words “big juice” to describe America’s above-ground nuclear tests in the 1940s, the ones that vaporized entire Pacific atolls. I will now borrow the phrase: This car is big juice.
Heart of the Matter
The GT500 was developed by Ford’s SVT division, the same loon lab responsible for the Ford GT and F-150 SVT Raptor. Like a lot of SVT products, it seems dominated by its engine. The 5.8-liter, 631-lb-ft, supercharged V-8 underhood is a punched-out version of the aluminum-block 5.4 used in the 2011–2012 GT500, which was itself essentially a wet-sump evolution of the V-8 used in the GT. The previous engine’s massive 105.8-mm stroke remains, but cylinder bore balloons from 90.2 to 93.5 mm. (Ford claims that the block is now at its limits and can be stretched no larger.) Compression ratio rises from 8.4:1 to 9.0; like its predecessor, the 5.8 uses plasma-transferred wire-arc bore coatings and billet main-bearing caps, but it also gets a larger oil pump, an aluminum sump, piston oil squirters, and additional coolant passages. The Eaton supercharger in the engine’s valley displaces 2.3 liters, spins faster than the last GT500’s blower, cranks out 14.0 psi at maximum boost (up from 9.0), and takes more horsepower to operate than is produced by the current Ford Fiesta. It looks big enough to inhale a small dog.
SVT chief engineer Jamal Hameedi says the 2013 program “started with an engine and then bled over to touch every part of the car.” Staring at the new car’s gaping front air intake—there is no real radiator grille, just a maw the size of Kansas that lets you reach in and molest a couple of heat exchangers—it’s hard to doubt him. (Question for future ’13 GT500 owners: How expensive is a bird strike on this thing? The intake looks capable of hoovering a hundred pigeons.)
According to Hameedi, the GT500’s development team focused on three bogeys: 650 hp, 600 lb-ft, and 200 mph. The production car bests the engine targets, but the added grunt required a host of driveline upgrades, and the 200-mph figure necessitated a heap of added cooling capacity. Twin fuel pumps (a Mustang GT’s single supply pump, twice over), larger fuel injectors, a grippier and larger-diameter clutch, a larger fan, a three-row intercooler (the previous car used a double-row unit), a beefed-up Tremec 6060 six-speed with an internal oil pump, and a single-piece carbon-fiber driveshaft come along for the ride. The carbon shaft is both lighter and stronger than its two-piece steel forebear, but chiefly, it doesn’t use a center support bearing, cutting frictional losses. It also doesn’t go into resonance between 150 and 200 mph like the old unit. Larger Brembo brakes with six-piston caliper front discs, reinforced axle tubes, and countless tiny aero tweaks round things out for the base GT500.
There is, unsurprisingly, more. The optional Performance package adds adjustable dampers and a Torsen limited-slip rear differential. Ordering the Performance package allows buyers to select the Track package, which is aimed at road-course work and gets you a transmission cooler, a nose-mounted differential cooler for the Torsen limited-slip unit, and an air-to-oil engine-oil cooler (the previous car used a water-to-oil unit). If you ask nicely, Ford will also send out a technician to sit in the passenger seat, compliment your girlish figure, and mist lavender water on your face every time you try for Vmax.
Fine, I made that last one up. But the point is that if you want to make a blown Mustang pound out 662 ponies and hit two bills while carrying a warranty, the answer is apparently to build a heat exchanger on wheels with bigger everything. Then you throw more radiator at it. Possibly more after that.
The rest of the car is essentially a much-massaged 2012 GT500. Base cars get a larger front sway bar and retuned springs. An rpm-adjustable electronic launch-control function is standard, as is four-mode electronic stability control.
Deceptive Speed
All of this works well until you stand on the right pedal, at which point it works very well, and then you look down at the speedometer and realize you’re going 140 mph and have only shifted twice. Make no mistake: The GT500 is not a slow car, but it doesn’t feel as quick as it is. This is deceptive, long-haul speed, a surprising pairing of monster thrust and continent-crossing gait. After a couple of balls-out acceleration runs, you feel like Robert Crumb’s Keep on Truckin’ guy, all legs, a continent between your shins. It’s initially unimpressive, and then you glance out the window and notice you’re three states away from where you started.
Interesting trivia: The GT500’s sixth gear, a whopping 0.50 overdrive, was predictably chosen for fuel economy—the Shelby cranks out 24 mpg on the highway and carries no gas-guzzler tax. As a result, sixth serves up 80 mph at 1500 rpm, which means you can offer joyrides to the rubes and blow their minds all over the dash by telling them your fancy new Ford is geared for 350 mph at 7000 rpm in sixth. (Don’t mention it’s only possible through math, not the laws of physics. Just do a bunch of burnouts and strut off.)
That kind of barroom-spec swagger is the point: Few people in America will actually crank their GT500s to 200 mph or rip off a quarter-mile in the elevens, but Ford wants them to know they can. The interesting thing is how those metric tails seem to have wagged the car’s personality dog. Peak grunt comes at 4000 rpm and the Shelby’s torque curve is broad enough to be seen from space, but you rarely get that giddy, unchained-Satan feeling that the spec sheet implies. Hameedi insists the car’s tall gearing was both deliberate and necessary—“We could have built something that spun its wheels in third gear at 70 mph and had you countersteering on the interstate, but we wanted this to be manageable”—but all that does is make you think, “Countersteering on the interstate? Cool.”
Lap After Lap After . . .
Ford says track durability—eliminating the old GT500’s tendency to go into heat-soak limp mode during lapping, increasing brake longevity, etc.—was a priority during development, and it certainly feels that way. The Shelby’s media drive was split between Road Atlanta and Atlanta Dragway, and the car seemed unfazed in either environment, if a bit cooped up. The brakes offer a responsive pedal and seemingly all-day stopping power. The electric-assist power steering gives decent feel, but you never forget the massive blower hanging off the nose, never stop wanting to just point the car straight and let it breathe.
The Ford is better balanced and easier to hold sideways than its predecessor, but corners are still a waiting game: slow in, tease the throttle, read War and Peace, straighten the wheel, obliterate landscape. You hump this thing over an apex, you find yourself thinking of the Mustang Boss 302’s asphalt-wrinkling reflexes and wishing—gasp!—for a bit less power and weight.
Still, people buy GT500s for overkill, and this car is no exception. No matter how you slice it, you’re getting a blue ton of horsepower for under $60,000, and that’s a feat to be applauded. A word of advice: The GT500 convertible ($59,995, on sale now) offers the coupe’s drivetrain, a softer suspension, more squat and dive than a rodeo bull, and a 155-mph electronic speed limiter. Because it is more flawed and less capable, it is—in its own way—more compelling and fun to beat on. Wonder what a certain French dude would think of that?
[video=youtube;iD0TUxxvyes]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iD0TUxxvyes[/video]
No trust fund required for this blue-collar, 200-mph monster.
May 2012
BY SAM SMITH
Voltaire once wrote, “The superfluous, a very necessary thing.” What, then, should we make of a warranty-equipped Ford Mustang with 662 hp and a claimed 200-mph top speed? Is there a deeper philosophical argument to be made about the necessity of a live-axle production car with more power than an overclocked supercollider? Does the vehicle in question—the 2013 Ford Shelby GT500—teach us about the nature of right and wrong, indulgence and restraint?
Perhaps. But mostly, it just hauls mind-bending ass. Be a good, excess-loving American, and don’t overthink it.
With a car like this, you inevitably focus on the numbers: The $54,995 GT500 coupe likely will turn in a 0-to-60 sprint of 3.7 seconds. Ferociously tall gearing means that third gear is good for 140 mph and first gear is long enough to reach highway speeds. Even so, the quarter-mile should pass in 11.7 seconds. Slam a redline shift from second to third, and you’ll hear the rear tires chirp.
A college professor of mine once used the words “big juice” to describe America’s above-ground nuclear tests in the 1940s, the ones that vaporized entire Pacific atolls. I will now borrow the phrase: This car is big juice.
Heart of the Matter
The GT500 was developed by Ford’s SVT division, the same loon lab responsible for the Ford GT and F-150 SVT Raptor. Like a lot of SVT products, it seems dominated by its engine. The 5.8-liter, 631-lb-ft, supercharged V-8 underhood is a punched-out version of the aluminum-block 5.4 used in the 2011–2012 GT500, which was itself essentially a wet-sump evolution of the V-8 used in the GT. The previous engine’s massive 105.8-mm stroke remains, but cylinder bore balloons from 90.2 to 93.5 mm. (Ford claims that the block is now at its limits and can be stretched no larger.) Compression ratio rises from 8.4:1 to 9.0; like its predecessor, the 5.8 uses plasma-transferred wire-arc bore coatings and billet main-bearing caps, but it also gets a larger oil pump, an aluminum sump, piston oil squirters, and additional coolant passages. The Eaton supercharger in the engine’s valley displaces 2.3 liters, spins faster than the last GT500’s blower, cranks out 14.0 psi at maximum boost (up from 9.0), and takes more horsepower to operate than is produced by the current Ford Fiesta. It looks big enough to inhale a small dog.
SVT chief engineer Jamal Hameedi says the 2013 program “started with an engine and then bled over to touch every part of the car.” Staring at the new car’s gaping front air intake—there is no real radiator grille, just a maw the size of Kansas that lets you reach in and molest a couple of heat exchangers—it’s hard to doubt him. (Question for future ’13 GT500 owners: How expensive is a bird strike on this thing? The intake looks capable of hoovering a hundred pigeons.)
According to Hameedi, the GT500’s development team focused on three bogeys: 650 hp, 600 lb-ft, and 200 mph. The production car bests the engine targets, but the added grunt required a host of driveline upgrades, and the 200-mph figure necessitated a heap of added cooling capacity. Twin fuel pumps (a Mustang GT’s single supply pump, twice over), larger fuel injectors, a grippier and larger-diameter clutch, a larger fan, a three-row intercooler (the previous car used a double-row unit), a beefed-up Tremec 6060 six-speed with an internal oil pump, and a single-piece carbon-fiber driveshaft come along for the ride. The carbon shaft is both lighter and stronger than its two-piece steel forebear, but chiefly, it doesn’t use a center support bearing, cutting frictional losses. It also doesn’t go into resonance between 150 and 200 mph like the old unit. Larger Brembo brakes with six-piston caliper front discs, reinforced axle tubes, and countless tiny aero tweaks round things out for the base GT500.
There is, unsurprisingly, more. The optional Performance package adds adjustable dampers and a Torsen limited-slip rear differential. Ordering the Performance package allows buyers to select the Track package, which is aimed at road-course work and gets you a transmission cooler, a nose-mounted differential cooler for the Torsen limited-slip unit, and an air-to-oil engine-oil cooler (the previous car used a water-to-oil unit). If you ask nicely, Ford will also send out a technician to sit in the passenger seat, compliment your girlish figure, and mist lavender water on your face every time you try for Vmax.
Fine, I made that last one up. But the point is that if you want to make a blown Mustang pound out 662 ponies and hit two bills while carrying a warranty, the answer is apparently to build a heat exchanger on wheels with bigger everything. Then you throw more radiator at it. Possibly more after that.
The rest of the car is essentially a much-massaged 2012 GT500. Base cars get a larger front sway bar and retuned springs. An rpm-adjustable electronic launch-control function is standard, as is four-mode electronic stability control.
Deceptive Speed
All of this works well until you stand on the right pedal, at which point it works very well, and then you look down at the speedometer and realize you’re going 140 mph and have only shifted twice. Make no mistake: The GT500 is not a slow car, but it doesn’t feel as quick as it is. This is deceptive, long-haul speed, a surprising pairing of monster thrust and continent-crossing gait. After a couple of balls-out acceleration runs, you feel like Robert Crumb’s Keep on Truckin’ guy, all legs, a continent between your shins. It’s initially unimpressive, and then you glance out the window and notice you’re three states away from where you started.
Interesting trivia: The GT500’s sixth gear, a whopping 0.50 overdrive, was predictably chosen for fuel economy—the Shelby cranks out 24 mpg on the highway and carries no gas-guzzler tax. As a result, sixth serves up 80 mph at 1500 rpm, which means you can offer joyrides to the rubes and blow their minds all over the dash by telling them your fancy new Ford is geared for 350 mph at 7000 rpm in sixth. (Don’t mention it’s only possible through math, not the laws of physics. Just do a bunch of burnouts and strut off.)
That kind of barroom-spec swagger is the point: Few people in America will actually crank their GT500s to 200 mph or rip off a quarter-mile in the elevens, but Ford wants them to know they can. The interesting thing is how those metric tails seem to have wagged the car’s personality dog. Peak grunt comes at 4000 rpm and the Shelby’s torque curve is broad enough to be seen from space, but you rarely get that giddy, unchained-Satan feeling that the spec sheet implies. Hameedi insists the car’s tall gearing was both deliberate and necessary—“We could have built something that spun its wheels in third gear at 70 mph and had you countersteering on the interstate, but we wanted this to be manageable”—but all that does is make you think, “Countersteering on the interstate? Cool.”
Lap After Lap After . . .
Ford says track durability—eliminating the old GT500’s tendency to go into heat-soak limp mode during lapping, increasing brake longevity, etc.—was a priority during development, and it certainly feels that way. The Shelby’s media drive was split between Road Atlanta and Atlanta Dragway, and the car seemed unfazed in either environment, if a bit cooped up. The brakes offer a responsive pedal and seemingly all-day stopping power. The electric-assist power steering gives decent feel, but you never forget the massive blower hanging off the nose, never stop wanting to just point the car straight and let it breathe.
The Ford is better balanced and easier to hold sideways than its predecessor, but corners are still a waiting game: slow in, tease the throttle, read War and Peace, straighten the wheel, obliterate landscape. You hump this thing over an apex, you find yourself thinking of the Mustang Boss 302’s asphalt-wrinkling reflexes and wishing—gasp!—for a bit less power and weight.
Still, people buy GT500s for overkill, and this car is no exception. No matter how you slice it, you’re getting a blue ton of horsepower for under $60,000, and that’s a feat to be applauded. A word of advice: The GT500 convertible ($59,995, on sale now) offers the coupe’s drivetrain, a softer suspension, more squat and dive than a rodeo bull, and a 155-mph electronic speed limiter. Because it is more flawed and less capable, it is—in its own way—more compelling and fun to beat on. Wonder what a certain French dude would think of that?
[video=youtube;iD0TUxxvyes]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iD0TUxxvyes[/video]
