My friend Sage has been researching his next car. A few months ago, Sage and I had rented an E46 M3 from RelayRides, and we were completely taken by the E46’s performance, balance and poise. After the rental, we both dived into Craigslist searches to find that perfect example of the model, but we’ve both been side-tracked since then. For me, the siren call of the Mitsubishi Evo IX MR has returned. Sage has noticed that 20k mile Mustang GT 5.0’s sell for the same price as clean 80k mile E46 M3s. In choosing between a 10-year-old/80k mile M3 or a 2-year-old/20k mile Mustang, Sage is lured towards the Mustang.
To test his car crush, Sage turned to RelayRides again and rented a 2013 Mustang GT for the day. The pros for this particular rental was the 5.0L V8, good for 420 hp, paired with a 6-speed manual transmission. The cons were 235/50-R18 all-season Pirelli tires on some ugly aftermarket wheels and the fact that this GT had the base suspension package.
Sage and I agreed to meet at mid-afternoon at the top of Stunt Rd. I’d bring my 2011 BMW M3 along for comparison; two +400 hp V8 RWD cars should be roughly comparable, right? Sage’s plan is to head into the Santa Monica Mountains early so that he can drive some twisties before I arrive.
Forty-five minutes before our meeting time, I get a text from Sage, “I’m going for a hike, bored of driving.” This does not look good for the Mustang!
I enjoy hustling my M3 to the top of the mountain and arrive on time. Sage is standing by the Mustang, taking in the scenery, probably having just watched me charge up Schueren Rd. We circle around the Mustang, checking out the details. The aftermarket wheels look undersized in the big fender wells; their appearance is really not working for me. The equally aftermarket exhaust does not fit the cutouts on the rear bumper, and the exhaust tips have started to melt away the black plastic. All of the OEM styling on the car is quite nice; this generation of the Mustang has presence.
I get in the passenger seat, and Sage sets out. The Mustang’s exhaust note is loud and mean. It is pretty clear that this burly American-V8-muscle roar is what sold the owner on this car. (It must be since he was the one that installed this set of pipes!) Sage and I feel conspicuous in such a brazenly vocal vehicle, especially since we both want to get on the gas on the straightaways. We wouldn’t be surprised if the local homeowners rushed to the roadside with pitchforks and cellphones and placed furious calls to the highway patrol.
Even from the passenger’s seat—a comfortable black-cloth unit—it is clear that this base suspension is not on par with the powertrain. I am feeling a strange combination of vertical heave yet well-restrained body roll. The float and bounce I feel as the car traverses bumps in the road is more nautical in sensation than terrestrial. Sage theorizes that the tires and suspension are equally culpable for this decidedly unsporting ride; I think the shocks and springs are more to blame.
We stop and switch seats. Sage is amused (delighted?) to find that the passenger’s seat is more comfortable than the driver’s seat. He points out how the seat cushion of the driver’s seat has already been worn flat and lumpy, even after just 2 years and 4400 miles. I struggle to find a good driving position as the steering wheel tilts but will not telescope. Eventually, I find a reasonable compromise between seat, pedals and wheel.
I head back up Saddle Peak Rd, driving at a modest clip, getting a feel for the controls. The 6-speed manual with its black, eight-ball head and precise, tight throws is a joy! I am a bit sloppy in my shifting—it has been a few years since I last owned a manual car—but the easy clutch and well-spaced pedals help me remember how to row my own. The engine revs well, but its real forte is its mid-range torque. The Mustang is fast in a straight line, easily on par with the E90 M3 but with much better low down grunt. Partially thanks to the soft suspension, this car squats as it goes!
Lifting off the throttle after an acceleration run, the V8 holds onto its revs for a surprisingly long time. I feel like my upshifts are too quick for the rate at which the engine relinquishes rpm and that it’s the clutch that ends up moderating the mismatch between engine rpm and wheel speed. This behavior is very different from how the M3 immediately engine-brakes on throttle lift, allowing me to finely balance the chassis with throttle input. Sage tells me that aftermarket ECU tuning can get the 5.0 to engine-brake more readily.
I pass by the parked M3 and turn down Stunt Rd, driving downhill. The Mustang’s brakes are firm and confidence-inspiring. The suspension is more enigmatic, and I start likening the Mustang’s ride to that of old-school Cadillacs. (Perhaps calling the ride Lincoln Towncar-esque would have been more accurate?) No pavement lump passes under the tire without a corresponding heave and float in the car’s body. Still, even with the suspension sloppily exercising all of its travel over road imperfections, once the car takes a set and is steady-state cornering, the grip is good, and the bumps don’t throw the car off the line. I don’t feel any strange juddering from the solid rear axle. The Mustang is willing to play in the corners, but I have to be a bit patient and let it settle into each turn.
I am a bit down on the Mustang at this point. The drivetrain is fantastic, gutsy and tight, but the suspension is more boulevard cruiser than sports car. This GT is more old-school muscle car than a modern pony car. I am not very inspired by black plastic in the interior either, which uses cheaper and cheaper materials the further back in the cabin you go. Imagine that, me, a Lancer Evolution aficionado, looking down upon the interior of the Mustang. What a hypocrite!
Sage drives the Mustang hard up Piuma to the mountain’s peak, provoking a few alarming lurches over mid-corner bumps. Looks like you have to push harder if you want to expose the solid rear axle’s flaws.
We swap keys, he climbs in the M3, I mount the Mustang, and then I lead us back down Stunt Rd. I am revving out the V8, bathing in the stars-and-stripes soundtrack, bouncing over the bumps and easing the chassis into corners. The Mustang is gripping, sticking, and then digging out of the corners. This is fun! (Sage is firmly in my mirrors all the way down the hill.)
I am enjoying the drive so much that I add Dry Canyon Cold Creek Rd as a detour around a straight section of Mulholland Hwy. The Mustang feels too big for this twisty road, and I end up using some of the left-hand lane while negotiating the tighter corners. I am having a hoot and even playing around at the edges of traction, as much as the sport setting of the ESP will allow.
I notice that the unloaded suspension (when driving calmly down a straightaway) is even more prone to bobbing than when the car is loaded in a corner. We swap cars once again. The biggest contrast is the M3’s body control; it feels completely flat in the corners and absolutely stable over bumps and lumps. No wild bronco ride here! The M3’s steering wheel temporarily feels small (in diameter) to my hands, but its quickness and precision are still second nature to me. I have no problem keeping up with Sage through Old Topanga’s turns, and I can just about pace him on the straights too. When driving the Ford, I’d thought that the M3 had more of a top-end surge than did the Mustang’s 5.0, but now that I’m back in the M3, its torque feels a little thin everywhere in the rev range! I hardly need to say it, but the M3’s cabin quality is on another level altogether from the Mustang’s.
We find our way to the top of Tuna Canyon and then dive bomb toward the Pacific shoreline. Sage is still leading in the Mustang, and he clearly has the afterburners lit; I see the GT slew gratuitously sideways on the exit of several corners. The strong aroma of cooking brake pads starts to fill my nose. My M3’s brake pedal is a little dull—I used the stock pads hard at the track just two days before—so it could be my car, or perhaps the Mustang’s hardware is finally getting broken in. The answer is clear at the canyon’s bottom: smoke is rising off the Mustang’s front calipers.
Parked along the edge of the Pacific, Sage and I review our thoughts. We both agree that the Mustang is fun and slightly more enjoyable on our loop than the M3. There is just more theater in the Mustang’s demeanor, what with the drivetrain’s brilliance and bravado fighting the suspension’s sloppy ineptitude. The 5.0 V8 and 6-speed manual combination are just fantastic. The M3, on the other hand, is competent in all realms—engine, gearbox and suspension—but it’s so competent that some of the excitement is taken out of the drive. Overall, we are quite impressed with the Ford, though the car did not match our pre-test expectations. The base-suspension Mustang GT turns out to be like a half-baked chocolate-chip cookie; its soft gooeyness is enjoyable in its own right, but it’s not the crisp dessert we were expecting.
After this afternoon, I have more respect for the Mustang GT, but the compromises in quality and handling would keep me from becoming an owner. For Sage, the choice between Mustang GT and E46 M3 (or something other!) remains an open question. Would a coilover suspension and better tires fix the Mustang’s handling? Would it be best to pony up (haha!) for a Boss 302? For now, the questions and the search remain. To be continued…
Mike's Steering Column 