The techometre rises swiftly to the red line

Three seconds in the Dodge Challenger SRT8 is all that’s needed to be isolated from your surroundings and to be transported out of the world you’re in.

Hold the Start button for two seconds, blip the throttle for a second and in an instant that throbbing, low down, deep and powerful sound of the big and heavy V8 has you thinking of the past: 1970; cheap fuel; United States, muscle car country.

It’s an evocative, addictive sound that’s as unmistakable as the shriek of a Formula 1 V8 at 18,000rpm (all be it diametrically opposed). Having just been handed the keys by Chrysler’s PR man, just sitting in the dark of the multi-storey car park is giving me a small oxymoronic sense of contentment and longing for a time past. A bit like moving out of your house into a bigger one, but not wanting to leave the old one behind because you remember the good times you’d had in it.

I get that feeling for several reasons. The first is the looks of the thing; the Challenger may have been absent for over three decades, but thanks to designer Michael Castiglione its visual power is still immense. Up close it’s much wider than it looks in the pictures: it’s bulky, slightly angry and has the kind of bodyguard posture that says ‘don’t mess with me’. Round and recessed headlights and a one-piece rear light arrangement and black racing stripes down the middle really do shout muscle, along with the short boot and large bonnet that has a bulge running down the middle of it. It’s wide (but not as wide as the original) and overall it’s a great modern representation of an old school icon.

Sitting here with no sunlight, in the comfortable, supporting seat, the interior looks as Chrysler as ever. There’s plenty of room but the liberal use of cheap plastic is quite overwhelming. The only really nice parts are the dials that fall away from you and the carbon-fibre-styled weave that decorates the gear lever, steering wheel and door pulls. But let’s not hit the Challenger over the head before it’s had its chance.

The other source of my satisfaction is predictably down to Vanishing Point, the 1971 film that achieved cult status thanks to its hero, Kowalski (played by Barry Newman), and the Challenger R/T he was tasked with delivering from Denver, Colorado to San Fransisco. Since watching it, I’ve had a certain  attachment to muscle cars and the mood of the era.

But really, I’m becoming sentimental because I wish I lived in that decade, to have been there at the time on the streets of night-time Detroit, comparing my metal amongst the crowd of petrolheads against the other muscle cars, before driving around in convoy or drag racing up the wide streets.

‘There ain’t no substitute for cubic inches’ they used to say (cubic inches meaning engine capacity). I wish I could’ve used that phrase. I wish I could’ve experienced original American muscle. Cars like the Chevrolet Camaro, Plymouth Barracuda, Chevrolet Chevelle, Pontiac GTO and Dodge Charger. Being parked next to them at a set of glaring traffic lights that are about to turn green at an hour close to midnight would definitely have been something to remember.

The daydreaming ends up being short-lived. Parked next to me as the SRT8 sits at idle isn’t even a modern Mustang - it’s a Mercury Mountaineer.

Back to reality and the present. Photographer Alejandro and I have a long drive and a photo shoot to take care of, and time isn’t really on our side. We have to get to our chosen location in Oman by the time the sun sets, and right now it’s late morning. The drive to the coast is about 300km-long. Taking into account the villages and twisting inclines that’ll slow our progress, we don’t have long. A Vanishing Point-style run to the northern border? I’d like to think so. Although Kowalski quite clearly did it in more extreme circumstances: mid-way through delivering the Challenger, he learns that his pregnant wife (who’s about to give birth in San Fransisco)  is in bad shape - she’s in hospital and in a life and death situation. Alejandro and I, on the other hand, are merely chasing the sun. Still, that’s good enough for me and my ‘70s-induced daydream.

Pottering out of town with a light throttle, the V8 gives out a bassy rumble; it’s quiet and sedate and feels happy settling into a cruise at less than 2000rpm. But push the throttle to the floor and things get interesting. I know Kowalski didn’t have much regard for speed limits, but I’m keeping it to the 120kph limit on Emirates Road. It’s at the junctions and out of roundabouts when we approach Ras Al Khaimah where I flex my right foot, which all too happily releases a full-throated and angry V8. If you know what a Mercedes McLaren SLR and an Aston Martin DBS sound like, then put them together and you have something approaching the chorus of the Challenger. To go along with the resonance, the swiftness with which the noise and tachometre needle rises is simply momentous, pulling keenly to the 6200rpm red line.

It isn’t long before we get through Ras Al Khaimah, continue north on Al Rams Road and arrive at the UAE/Oman border at Tibat, where the scenery changes immeasurably. The 02 road that runs from the border post along the Oman coast and reaches the north-western point at the Strait of Hormuz is akin to the famous Pacific Coast Highway in California (Google it to see the resemblance). The deep blue waves of the Persian Gulf crash into the beach on the one side within a few metres of the road, and on the other the rocky white and yellow mountains and hills that stretch far into the mainland. It’s a view worth remembering.

It’s only the beginning though. Quite remarkably, the further we go the more interesting the road becomes. The bends vary from being huge curves that seem to go on forever around mountain sides, to tight and completely blind hairpins that first curve steeply up the mountain and then down it in short succession. Sometimes these variations follow one after another, all the while the steepness varying from a slight incline that you hardly notice to one where the pressure difference between sea level and the top can be felt in your ears within a matter of seconds. Sometimes the corners open up, sometimes they tighten. Trying to judge what kind of bend is coming next, however, is tricky when rocks block your sight of the other end.

And it’s even more of an issue when you have the poise of a muscle car. The brakes are solid and the brake pedal has plenty of feel all through its travel, never failing to haul you from whatever speed you’ve built up, but that seems to be an exception rather than the rule. Effectively a shortened Dodge Charger, the Challenger’s front-heavy bias doesn’t do it much favours. Its balance is on the neutral side through fast flowing bends, but apply a touch more lock to tighten your line and you begin to induce understeer all too easily. It is especially prone to pushing wide in the tighter bends.

A flick through the Performance section of the menu options in the display housed within the speedometer reveals a quarter mile timer, a g-force indicator in the style of a Nissan GT-R and a braking distance metre. Ironic, considering g-forces aren’t its forte. For a brief moment I think of lift-off oversteer as a means of getting rid of that understeer and getting the nose to point in the right direction, but it sounds like heresy talking like this about a muscle car. Plus it’s not something I’m about to test with a jagged mountain face flicking by alongside.

Danger or no danger, in my head I am Kowalski. It may be comical to compare yourself to a fictional character, but sitting here, behind the wheel, by myself, gradually winding up the hills, then down them, all the while the constant cool salty breeze blowing through the window I find myself having a lot in common with a fictional former Vietnam veteran and racing driver - enjoying long drives in a powerful car being just one of them.

Unlike Kowalski, I’m not fuelled by drugs. But I am hooked on this road. The constant throb of the 6.1-litre Hemi bouncing off the concrete barriers and rock faces back into my ears is beginning to have its effect on my yearning for speed. One look in the mirror, however, turns my craving off; a Police car in the shape of a Nissan Safari is trailing not far behind. My mind flicks back to a scene in the film where Kowalski is on the getaway yet again, being chased by two cop cars, guided by the local radio DJ, Super Soul: ‘And there goes the Challenger, being chased by the blue, blue meanies on wheels. The vicious traffic squad cars are after our lone driver, the last American hero.’

A car chase wouldn’t be much fun here though. The Challenger isn’t very rewarding when it comes to driver feedback. The steering is on the vague side in both feel and precision. You’re somehow never sure that it’ll turn at the same rate as your inputs. Regardless of the lock you put on, you’ll always end up applying a little more, and then a little less to correct yourself. What’s really required is minimal effort. Approach the turn slowly, wind the lock on gradually, and when you’ve completely straightened up, floor the throttle. It’s the muscle car way, and the shove in the back is even more satisfying when it does come. You never tire of that crescendo of noise, either.

‘You never tire of the great crescendo of noise’

When we eventually reach the end of the beautiful coastal road, the sun is beginning to set over the hills. The road turns silent and it’s only the sea that I can hear once again, more clearly than ever. We park up on a quiet spot on the crest of one of the hills. I perch on a rock and gaze at the Challenger.

What to conclude about this slightly soft modern interpretation of an American classic?

Well for all its flaws, this Challenger SRT8 does do a couple of things very well: it’s entertaining and it’s exploitable. Two things you won’t find in many cars today. You can feel its limits and not be afraid to go beyond them and you can use the whole rev range of that naturally aspirated V8 at will. No, it’s not the most agile car in the world but in the right place at the right time, it has a charm you can’t help but like.

And if, like me, you sometimes imagine your middle name to be Kowalski, a drive along the coast of Oman is all it’ll take to make you reconsider the Challenger

Specification

	Dodge Challenger SRT8
Engine	90-degree V8 HEMI
Location	Front, transverse
Displacement	6059cc
Max power	425bhp @ 6200rpm
Max torque	420lb ft @ 4800rpm
Transmission	Five-speed auto,rear-wheel drive, ESP
Weight (kerb)	1355kg
Power-to-weight	244bhp/ton
0-100kph	4.9sec (claimed)
Top speed	273kph (claimed)
Basic price	$ 54,300
On sale	Second half of 2009
EVO Rating	3½ stars