There a handful of vehicles that are heralded as prime enthusiast metal yet linger forever on dealer lots. Unfortunately for GM, the Chevy SS is one of those models. How many manufacturers are making V8-powered RWD sedans? Not that many. How many manufacturers are selling that same car with a manual transmission and magnetic ride suspension? Just one: Chevy. This ought to be the most popular car in the world, and yet it doesn’t sell and has been canceled for 2018.
The Chevy SS gets copious media on Everyday Driver’s car purchasing advice podcast and has made multiple appearances in Motor Trend videos. These frequent reminders keep the SS lurking in the back of my mind. It has the magical recipe that satisfies my motorhead appetite in my E90 M3: V8 up front, driven wheels behind, and seating for five. Considering that it sells at a discount, is build of stout and cheap Chevy parts, and has more interior space than my BMW, the SS has become my Plan B. It is the safe option I’d fall back on if my relationship with the petite and high-strung M3 breaks me and my wallet.
There is only one dealer in my area with a manual transmission SS, and that is where I am heading for a test drive. I arrive and am surprised to find the car parked in a place of honor on the showroom floor. Aren’t these supposed to be languishing out back covered in dust and grime?
The Chevy SS has a well-deserved reputation for being a Q-ship, a car of unassuming appearance but notable performance. I think it looks good in the flesh, but my glasses are rose-tinted because I know the firepower it packs. The interior is smartly trimmed. Surfaces are covered in good leather and Alcantara, and tasteful use of brightwork and stitching give the cabin a premium feel.
Moving to the back, I can see the SS is a class larger than my M3 sedan. There is more knee and elbow room on the rear bench, and the trunk is wider and taller than the BMW’s. I know this model can fit three car seats abreast and probably takes 25% more luggage too.
The SS is pulled out of the showroom, and I slide into the driver’s seat for my test drive. I adjust the mirrors and steering wheel (it telescopes and tilts), turn on the seat cooling, and flip through the HUD display options. The HUD is pleasantly high on the windscreen and thankfully readable through my polarized sunglasses.
The shifter action is good as I engage first gear, feeling chunkier but equally precise to the accurate—if remote—six-speed in my Focus RS. The shifting pleasure is not on the level of the GT350 Mustang or WRX STI, but it’s a good experience nonetheless.
Pulling onto the city streets, I am surprised to hear a bit of crack and pop in the exhaust. I guess every manufacturer is getting to that game! Yes, the Chevy has the LS3 motor from the C6 Corvette, but I had expected it to be muted for family duty, as was the case with the prior generation CTS-V. I like that even though the LS3 has been quieted for the grown-up SS, its sense of humor can still be heard in the cabin.
I switch through the driving modes—tour, sport and track—and find that tour extinguishes the burbles. The modes also control the suspension firmness, but the difference is subtle. The SS rides smoothly in any setting. I didn’t need any additional proof that magnetic-ride suspensions are a have-your-cake-and-eat-it-too solution, but the SS adds evidence to the pile.
In traffic, the SS feels large, filling more of the lane’s width than I am used to. What is not being filled, however, is the driver’s seat: My thin frame is swimming in the broad bucket, and the mild torso bolstering is not hugging my ribs at all. I miss the firm embrace; its absence takes away some sense of sport.
The road opens, and I finally get to lay into the throttle. The Chevy SS surges forward, though not as rapidly as I’d hoped. The Focus RS and M3 are both subjectively quicker. Where are the 415 horses I was promised? I guess they are breathing heavily under ~4,000 lbs of steel.
Frankly, I was worried about how the LS3 engine would feel in the SS. All the LS3-powered Corvettes I’ve driven were disappointments too. The engine makes its numbers but somehow feels lumbering at the same time. There is no zing to the redline, no peaking power as the RPM climb. For character and excitement, the LT1 (the LS3’s successor) is much improved. The only praise I can offer the LS3 is that its throttle response is sharp and immediate.
My five-mile drive through suburbia doesn’t give me a chance to work the chassis and grip, but I’ve seen enough to make a first impression. While finely finished and well equipped, the SS isn’t as fast, sporting or characterful as I want. I don’t have chemistry with this car—it’s time for a Plan C.
Mike's Steering Column 