The Dodge Viper RT/10 GTS.

This nutso car is a V10, 8L, 415hp unstable, horrible brakes, badly designed with passenger safety an after thought.

I drove this car for the first time in 1999, when I was looking at replacing my ride and was contemplating between a bunch of nutty cars. I walked into a Dodge dealership on Tualatin Valley Highway, close to my place in Hillsboro, Oregon.

Why Dodge? Well, I wanted something with a bit more performance than the Toyota Camry/Honda Accord that my colleagues were driving; my dishwasher has more style. Plus, I didn't give a damn about resale value. So, back to the the dealership. I drove in, in my hideous Nissan Maxima, hoping to leave it there and never look back. I wanted to trade predictability for unbridled power.

I talk to the schmucky sales dude there and he walked me around, showing me everything they had that was a V8 and above. Most were uninteresting on a good day. I was almost ready to head over to the CPJ (Chrysler-Plymouth-Jeep) across the street when he said that he had a Viper that only had 5k miles and was about a year old. I was very interested, but tried to look as bored as possible.

He showed me a 1998 Dodge Viper RT/10 GTS. It was much more than I intended to spend. But I want to driver her. I could almost taste the adrenalin. The GTS is a coupe with slightly bubbled roof sections to imply that one would wear helmets. The reference to racing was almost too much for me.

He asked if I want to take her for a spin, boy, did I! So they checked my credit, driving record etc. Then he pulled the car out and we did the usual drive up TV Highway towards a solitary stretch heading away from Hillsboro. We ended up on some rural-ish highway. He pulls over and asks me to take over. I step in, and immediately realize that this car was not built for 5'6" South Asian men. I sat way too low... way too low and the seat didn't really adjust.

I strap in and gently put her in first and touch the pedal. That is when I realize that the pedal had two positions: on and off. You either got all 415hp or not. I spun my wheels like a madman and quickly worked my way to fourth. This car was insanely fast with horrible brakes, my crappy Maxima could stop faster than this thing. Suddenly I began to respect Nissan, for not wanting to kill me.

I knew I hadn't even started pushing the envelope with this car. There was much more... much much more. History lesson, this car has been pitted against super cars multiple times and has always left the others in the dust but was mocked for it's braking. I would think that would a fundamental part of the design, but what do I know.

The chassis on this car was shaking. I felt like things were going to fall apart soon and wished I'd brought my helmet with me. My teeth were rattling, vision blurry. That is when the coke head car salesman said "C'mon pantywaist, you can do better than that". When the gauntlet hit my face, I lead footed it. The car turned into a badly designed airplane. I think I may have peed myself and the car dude soiled his pants as we were fast approaching a turn. I started pumping the brakes because there was no freakin' ABS. I really really did not want to be remembered by a ribbon around a tree.

Our blessed lady of oversteer smiled upon us and we got back to the dealership soon thereafter. In silence. With the smell of defecation hanging heavy between us.

I drove home in my Maxima. I was going to live another day.