Dynamometer

Dynamometer (pronounced dahy-nuh-mom-i-ter)

(1) A device for measuring mechanical force or muscular power (ergometer).

(2) A device for measuring mechanical power, especially one that measures the output or driving torque of a rotating machine.

1800–1810: A compound word, the construct being dynamo + meter.  Dynamo was ultimately from the Ancient Greek δύναμις (dúnamis; dynamis) (power) and meter has always been an expression of measure in some form and in English was borrowed from the French mètre, from the Ancient Greek μέτρον (métron) (measure).  What meter (also metre) originally measured was the structure of poetry (poetic measure) which in the Old English was meter (measure of versification) from the Latin metrum, from the Ancient Greek metron (meter, a verse; that by which anything is measured; measure, length, size, limit, proportion) ultimately from the primitive Indo-European root me- (measure).  Although the evidence is sketchy, it appears to have been re-borrowed in the early fourteenth century (after a three hundred-year lapse in recorded use) from the Old French mètre, with the specific sense of "metrical scheme in verse”, again from the Latin metrum.  Metre (and metre) was later adopted as the baseline unit of the metric system.  Dynamometer is a noun; the noun plural is dynamometers.

The modern meaning of dynamometer (measuring the power of engines) dates from 1882 and is short for dynamo-machine, from the German dynamoelektrischemaschine (dynamo-electric machine), coined in 1867 by its inventor, the German electrical engineer Werner Siemans (1816-1892). Dynamometers, almost universally referred to as dynos, are machines which simultaneously measure the torque and rotational speed (RPM) of an engine or other rotating prime-mover so specific power outs may be calculated.  On modern dynamometers, measures are displayed either as kilowatts (kW) or brake-horsepower (bhp).

Evolution of the Turbo-Panzer

Porsche 917 Flat 12 being run on factory dynamometer, Stuttgart, 1969.

During the last hundred years odd, the rules of motor sport have been written by an alphabet soup of regulatory bodies including the AIACR, the CSI, the FISA and the FIA and these bureaucrats have made many bad decisions, tending often to make things worse but every now and then, as an unintended consequence of their dopiness, something really good emerges.  The large displacement cars of the mid-1960s contested sports car racing in one of the classic eras in motorsport.  Everyone enjoyed the competition except the rule-making body (the CSI, the Commission Sportive Internationale) which, on flimsy pretexts which at the time fooled nobody, changed the rules for the International Championship of Makes for the racing seasons 1968-1971, restricting the production cars (of which 50 identical units had to have been made) to 5.0 litre (305 cubic inch) engines with a 3.0 litre limit (183 cubic inch) for prototypes (which could be one-offs).  Bizarrely, the CSI even claimed this good idea would be attractive for manufacturers already building three litre engine for Formula One because they would be able to sell them (with a few adaptations), for use in endurance racing.  There’s no evidence the CSI ever asked the engine producers whether their highly-strung, bespoke Formula One power-plants, designed for 200 mile sprints, could be modified for endurance racing lasting sometimes 24 hours.  Soon aware there were unlikely to be many entries to support their latest bright idea, the CSI relented somewhat and allowed the participation of 5.0 litre sports cars as long as the homologation threshold of 50 units had been reached.  A production run of 50 made sense in the parallel universe of the CSI but made no economic sense to the manufacturers and, by 1968, entries were sparse and interest waning so the CSI grudgingly again relented, announcing the homologation number for the 5.0 litre cars would be reduced to 25.

The famous photograph of the 25 917s assembled for the CSI’s inspection outside the Porsche factory, Stuttgart, 1969.

This attracted Porsche, a long-time contestant in small-displacement racing which, funded by profits from their increasingly successful road-cars, sought to contest for outright victories in major events rather than just class trophies.  Porsche believed they had the basis for a five litre car in their three litre 908 which, although still in the early stages of development, had shown promise.  In a remarkable ten months, the parts for twenty-five cars were produced, three of which were assembled and presented to the CSI’s homologation inspectors.  Pettifogging though they were, the inspectors had a point when refusing certification, having before been tricked into believing Ferrari’s assurance of intent actually to build cars which never appeared.  They demanded to see twenty-five assembled, functional vehicles and Porsche did exactly that, in April 1969 parking the twenty-five in the factory forecourt, even offering the inspectors the chance to drive however many they wish.  The offer was declined and, honour apparently satisfied on both sides, the CSI granted homologation.  Thus, almost accidently, began the career of the Porsche 917, a machine which would come to dominate whatever series it contested and set records which would stand for decades, it’s retirement induced not by un-competitiveness but, predictably, by rule changes which rendered it illegal.  

917LH (Langheck (long tail)), Le Mans, 1969.

The ten month gestation was impressive but there were teething problems.  The fundamentals, the 908-based space-frame and the 4.5 (275 cubic inch) litre air-cooled flat-12 engine, essentially, two of Porsche’s 2.25 (137 cubic inch) litre flat-sixes joined together, were robust and reliable from the start but, the sudden jump in horsepower meant much higher speeds and it took some time to tame the problems of the car’s behaviour at high-speed.  Aerodynamics was then still an inexact science and the maximum speed the 917 was able to attain on Porsche’s test track was around 180 mph (290 km/h) but when unleashed on the circuits with long straights where over 210 mph (338 km/h) was possible the early cars could be lethally unstable.  The first breakthrough in aerodynamic dynamic was serendipitous.  After one high speed run during which the driver had noted (with alarm) the tendency of the rear end of the car to “wander from side to side”, it was noticed that while the front and central sections of the bodywork were plastered with squashed bugs, the fibreglass of the rear sections was a pristine white, the obvious conclusion drawn that while the airflow was inducing the desired degree of down-force on the front wheels, it was passing over the rear of body, thus the lift which induced the wandering.  Some improvisation with pieces of aluminium and much duct tape to create an ad-hoc, shorter, upswept tail transformed the behaviour and was the basis for what emerged from more extensive wind-tunnel testing by the factory as the 917K for Kurzheck (short-tail).

Porsche 917Ks, the original (rear) and the updated version with twin tail-fins, Le Mans, 1971.

The 917K proved a great success but the work in the wind tunnel continued, in 1971 producing a variant with a less upswept tail and vertical fins which bore some resemblance to those used by General Motors and Chrysler a decade earlier.  Then, the critics had derided the fins as “typical American excess” and “pointlessly decorative” but perhaps Detroit was onto something because Porsche found the 917’s fins optimized things by “cleaning” the air-flow over the tail section, the reduction in “buffeting” meaning the severity of the angles on the deck could be lessened, reducing the drag while maintaining down-force, allowing most of the top-speed earlier sacrificed in the quest for stability to be regained.

The Can-Am: A red Porsche 917/10 ahead of an orange McLaren M8F Chevrolet, Laguna Seca, 17 October 1971.  Two years to the day after this shot was taken, the first oil shock hit, dooming the series.

The engine however had been more-or-less right from day one and enlarged first to 4.9 litres (300 cubic inch) before eventually reaching the 5.0 limit at which point power was rated at 632 bhp, a useful increase from the original 520.  Thus configured, the 917 dominated sports car racing until banned by regulators.  However, the factory had an alternative development path to pursue, one mercifully almost untouched by the pettifoggers and that was the Canadian-American Challenge Cup (the Can-Am), run on North American circuits under Group 7 rules for unlimited displacement sports cars.  Actually, Group 7 rules consisted of little more than demanding four wheels, enveloping bodywork and two seats, the last of these rules interpreted liberally.  Not for nothing did the Can-Am come to be known as the “horsepower challenge cup” and had for years been dominated by the McLarens, running big-block Chevrolet V8s of increasing displacement and decreasing mass as aluminium replaced cast iron for the heaviest components.

The abortive Porsche flat-16.

In 1969, the Porsche factory dynamometer could handle an output of around 750 bhp, then thought ample but even 635 bhp wouldn’t be enough to take on the big V8s but, for technical reasons, it wasn’t possible to further to enlarge the flat-12, Porsche built a flat-16 which pushed their dynamometer beyond its limit, the new engine rated at 750 bhp because the factory didn’t have the means to measure output beyond that point.  Such a thing had happened before, resulting in an anomaly which wasn’t explained for some years.  In 1959 Daimler released their outstanding 4.5 litre (278 cubic inch) V8 but their dynamometer was more antiquated still, a pre-war device unable to produce a reading beyond 220 so that was the rating used, causing much surprise to those testing the only car in which it was ever installed, the rather dowdy Majestic Major (1959-1968).  The Majestic Major was quite hefty and reckoned to enjoy the aerodynamic properties of a small cottage yet it delivered performance which 220 bhp should not have been able to provide, something confirmed when one was fitted to a Jaguar Mark X.  Unfortunately, Jaguar choose not to use the Daimler V8 in the Mark X, instead enlarging the XK-six, dooming the car in the US market where a V8 version would likely have proved a great success.

The Can-Am: Porsche 917/10, Riverside, 1972.

Estimates at the time suggested the Porsche flat 16 delivered something like 785 bhp which in the Can-Am would have been competitive but the bulk of the rendered it unsuitable, the longer wheelbase necessitated for installation in a modified 917 chassis having such an adverse effect on the balance of the car Porsche instead resorted to forced aspiration, the turbocharged 917s becoming known as the turbopanzers.  Porsche bought a new dynamometer which revealed they generated around 1100 bhp in racing trim and 1580 when tuned for a qualifying sprint.  Thus, even when detuned for racing, the Can-Am 917s typically took to the tracks generating more horsepower than the Spitfires, Hurricanes and Messerschmitt which fought the Battle of Britain in 1940.  Unsurprisingly, the 917 won the Cam-Am title in 1972 and 1973, the reward for which was the same as that earlier delivered in Europe: a rule change effectively banning the thing.

The widow-maker: 1975 Porsche 930 with the surprisingly desirable (for some) “sunroof delete” option.

The experience gained in developing turbocharging was however put to good use, the 911 Turbo (930 the internal designation) introduced in 1975 originally as a homologation exercise (al la the earlier 911 RS Carrera) but so popular did it prove it was added to the list as a regular production model and one has been a permanent part of the catalogue almost continuously since.  The additional power and its sometimes sudden arrival meant the times early versions were famously twitchy at the limit (and such was the power those limits were easily found), gaining the machine the nickname “widow-maker”.  There was plenty of advice available for drivers, the most useful probably the instruction not to use the same technique when cornering as one might in a front-engined car and a caution that even if one had had a Volkswagen Beetle while a student, that experience might not be enough to prepare one for a Porsche Turbo.  Small things apparently could make a difference, one source suggesting those wishing to explore a 930’s limits should try to get one with the rare “sunroof delete” option, the lack of the additional weight up there slightly improving the centre of gravity to the extent one could be travelling a little faster before the tail-heavy beast misbehaved.  It may be an urban myth but is vaguely plausible although, at best it would seem only to delay the inevitable.

In what may have been a consequence of the instability induced by a higher centre of gravity, in 2012 Lindsay Lohan crashed a sunroof equipped Porsche 911 Carrera S on the Pacific Coast Highway in Santa Monica, Los Angeles.  Clearly, Ms Lohan should avoid driving Porsches with sunroofs.

Kestrel

Kestrel (pronounced kes-truhl)

(1) In ornithological taxonomy, a common small falcon (especially the Falco tinnunculus), of northern parts of the Eastern Hemisphere, notable for hovering in the air with its head to the wind, its primary diet the small mammals it plucks from the ground.

(2) Any of a number of related small falcons.

(3) A brand-name, used severally (initial upper case).

1400–1450: From the late Middle English castrell, from the Middle English castrel & staniel (bird of prey), from the Middle French cresserelle & quercerelle (bird of prey), a variant of the Old French crecerelle, from cressele (rattle; wooden reel), from the unattested Vulgar Latin crepicella & crepitacillum, a diminutive of crepitāculum (noisy bell; rattle), from the Classical Latin crepitāre (to crackle, to rattle), from crepāre (to rustle). The connection with the Latin is undocumented and based on the folk belief their noise frightened away other hawks.  However, some etymologists contest the connection with the Latin forms and suggest a more likely source is a krek- or krak- (to crack, rattle, creak, emit a bird cry), from the Middle Dutch crāken (to creak, crack), from the Old Dutch krakōn (to crack, creak, emit a cry), from the Proto-West Germanic krakōn, from the Proto-Germanic krakōną (to emit a cry, shout), from the primitive Indo-European gerg- (to shout).  It was cognate with the Old High German krahhōn (to make a sound, crash), the Old English cracian (to resound) and the French craquer (to emit a repeated cry, used of birds).  All however concur the un-etymological -t- probably developed in French.  Kestrel is a noun; the noun plural is kestrels.

In taxonomy, the variations include the American kestrel (Falco sparverius), the banded kestrel (Falco zoniventris), the common kestrel (Falco tinnunculus), the greater kestrel (Falco rupicoloides), the grey kestrel (Falco ardosiaceus), the lesser kestrel (Falco naumanni), the nankeen kestrel (Falco cenchroides), the Seychelles kestrel (Falco araeus) and the spotted kestrel (Falco moluccensis).  Although the bird had earlier been described as the castrell, in the early seventeenth century the small falcons were more commonly known as windhovers, the construct being wind + hover, reflecting the observations of the ability of the birds literally to hover when facing into the wind.  A now more memorable term however was the one dating from the 1590s: The windfucker (or the fuckwind).  In English, for almost two centuries, any use of the F-word could be controversial and its very existence seemed to make uncomfortable one faction of lexicographers who at one point managed to strike it from almost all dictionaries of English.  They were also revisionists of historical interpretation and claimed windfucker & fuckwind were errors in transcription, the original folk-names being windsucker & suckwind.  To give theis theory a bit of academic gloss, they assembled charts of regionally specific pronunciation in the Late Middle and early Modern English to illustrate the extent to which the archaic long S character ( ſ ) often took the place of an < s > at both the beginnings and middle of words, the argument being the long S was misread as a lowercase ( f ).

It was an intellectually clever way to attempt to remove vulgarity from English but etymologists today give little credence to the theory, noting that the undisputed French sources provide no support.  It may be assumed kestrels came to be called windfuckers & fuckwinds because when displaying their expertise at hovering in the air when facing into the wind, the movements of their bodies does make it look as if airborne copulation is in progress.  Of note too is that in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, the same disapprobation didn’t always attach to “fuck” which, although there was a long history of meaning “fornication”, it had also been in figurative use to describe anything from “plough furrows in a field” to “chop down a tree”.  Fuck was from the Middle English fukken and probably of Germanic origin, from either the Old English fuccian or the Old Norse fukka, both from the Proto-Germanic fukkōną, from the primitive Indo-European pewǵ- (to strike, punch, stab).  It was probably the popularity of use as well as the related career as a general-purpose vulgar intensifier which attracted such disapproval.  By 1795 it had been banished from all but the most disreputable dictionaries, not to re-appear until the more permissive 1960s.

Fieseler Fi 156 Storch, Gran Sasso d'Italia massif, Italy, during the mission to rescue Mussolini from captivity, 12 September 1943.  The Duce is sitting in the passenger compartment.

Windfucker thus became archaic but not wholly extinct because it appears in at least one British World War II (1939-1945) diary entry which invoked the folk-name for the bird to describe the German liaison & communications aircraft, the Fieseler Fi 156 Storch (stork), famous for its outstanding short take-off & landing (STOL) performance and low stalling speed of 30 mph (50 km/h) which enabled it almost to hover when faced into a headwind.  The Storch’s ability to land in the length of a cricket pitch (22 yards (20.12 m)) made it a useful platform for all sorts of operations, the most famous of which was the daring landing on a mountain-top in northern Italy to rescue the deposed Duce (Benito Mussolini, 1883-1945; Duce (leader) & prime-minister of Italy 1922-1943).  So short was the length of the strip of grass available for take-off that even for a Storch it was touch & go (especially with the Duce’s not inconsiderable weight added) but with inches to spare, the little plane safely delivered its cargo.

Riley was one of the storied names of the British motor industry, beginning as a manufacturer of bicycles in 1896, an after some early experiments as early as 1899, sold its first range of cars in 1905.  Success followed but so did troubles and by 1938, the company had been absorbed into the Nuffield organization.  Production continued but in the post-war years, Riley joined Austin, Morris, Wolseley and MG as part of the British Motor Corporation (BMC) conglomerate and the unique features of the brand began to disappear, the descent to the era of “badge engineering” soon complete.  The last Rileys were the Elf (a tarted-up Mini with a longer boot which was ascetically somehow wrong) and the Kestrel (a tarted-up Austin 1300), neither of which survived the great cull when BMC was absorbed by the doomed British Leyland, marque shuttered in 1969, never to return.  The rights to the Riley brand name are now held by BMW which has never even hinted there may be a revival, their unhappy (and costly) experience with Rover presumably a cautionary tale still told in Bavaria. 

Pre-war Riley Kestrels: 1938 1½ litre four-light Kestrel Sports Saloon (left), 1939 2½ litre Kestrel fixed head coupé (with post-war coachwork) (centre) and 1937 1½ litre 12/4 Kestrel Sprite Special Sports (right).

It was a shame because the pre-war cars in particular had been stylish and innovative, noted for an unusual form of valve activation which used twin camshafts mounted high in the block (thus not “overhead camshafts (OHC)”) which provided the advantages of short pushrods & optimized valve placement offered by the OHC arrangements without the weight and complexity.  Also of interest were their pre-selector transmissions, a kind of semi-automatic gearbox.  Among the most admired had been the 1½ & 2½ litre Kestrels (1934-1940), most of which wore built with saloon coachwork in four or six-light configurations although there were also fixed head (FHC) and drop head coupés (DHC) as well as a few special, lightweight roadsters.

The Kestrel Beer Company's "Flying Kestrel", built by Webster Race Engineering.

Of late, one 1935 Riley Kestrel has enjoyed an unusual afterlife.  In 2020, Scotland’s Kestrel Beer Company commissioned the UK’s Webster Race Engineering to create from one something to use as a land speed record (LSR) contender.  Dubbed “Flying Kestrel”, it’s powered by a turbocharged 2.5 litre (151 cubic inch) Audi TSI inline-five attached to an Audi A6 manual transmission, the power delivered to a Ford 9-inch differential, for decades a mainstay of drag-racing and anywhere else big power and torque needs to be handled.  After setting seven records during a 2021 campaign, the Flying Kestrel returned to Webster for fine-tuning including a new exhaust manifold, turbocharger blanket, and nitrous system for boost and cooling, a key gaol to reduce engine-bay heat.  On the dynamometer, the inline-five registered 991 horsepower (739 Kw) & 753 foot-pounds of torque (1022 Nm) and thus configured an attempt will be made on 17 June 2024 to achieve 200 (322 km/h).  LSR vehicles with much less power have often exceeded 200 mph but typically they have used bodywork with aerodynamic properties more obviously suited for the purpose.  It’s not clear if Webster’s Riley has been subject to much wind-tunnel testing but it may be assumed the shape is far from ideal as an LSR competitor and for some runs it has been fitted with rear fender skirts (spats), a trick in use since the 1920s.

Flying Kestrel with rear spats fitted during 2021 campaign.  Note the holes in the fenders which were added, not as a weight-saving measure (a la the frame of the Mercedes-Benz SSKL (1929-1932)) but to reduce lift at speed, the fenders tending otherwise to act as "parachutes".  The same technique was used by Zora Arkus-Duntov when trying to counter the alarming tendency of the front end of the Chevrolet Corvette Grand Sport (GS, 1962-1964) to "take off" as it approached 150 mph (240 km/h).  For reasons unrelated to aerodynamics, the GS programme proved abortive and of the planned run of 100-125 for homologation purposes, only five were built, all of which survived to become multi-million dollar collectables.      

The spats are one of the rare instances where adding weight increases speed, attested by the tests conducted during the 1930s by Mercedes-Benz and Auto-Union, both factories using spats front and rear on their LSR vehicles, extending the use to road cars although later Mercedes-Benz would admit the 10% improvement claimed for the 1937 540K Autobahn-kurier (highway cruiser) was just “a calculation” and it’s suspected even this was more guesswork than math.  Later, Jaguar’s evaluation of the ideal configuration to use when testing the 1949 XK120 (1948-1954) on Belgium roads revealed the rear spats added about 3-4 mph to top speed though they precluded the use of the lighter wire wheels and did increase the tendency of the brakes to overheat in severe use so, like many things in engineering, it was a trade-off.  More significantly perhaps, when travelling at speeds around 200 mph, “lift” is an issue and one which has afflicted many cars which have adhered well to the road at lower speeds.  Succinctly, the problem was in a 1971 interview explained by the General Motors’ (GM) engineer Zora Arkus-Duntov (1909-1996) who described the 1962-1967 (C2) Chevrolet Corvette as having “just enough lift to be a bad airplane.”  At speed, it’s another trade-off: the desire to lower aerodynamic drag versus the need for sufficient downforce for the tyres to remain sufficiently in contact with the earth’s surface for a driver to retain control, those few square inches of rubber the difference between life & death, especially at around 200 mph.  It’s hoped the “Flying Kestrel” proves a "windfucker" and lives up to the name figuratively, but not literally.

1935 Riley 1½ litre Kestrel (Chassis 22T 1238, Engine SL 4168) with custom coachwork (2004)

The intriguing mechanical specifications and the robust chassis has made the pre-war cars attractive candidates for re-bodying as an alternative to restoration.  Not all approve of such things (the originality police are humorless puritans as uncompromising as any Ayatollah) but some outstanding coachwork has been fashioned, almost always the result of converting a saloon or limousine to a coupé, convertible or roadster.  The 1935 1½ litre Kestrel above began life as a four-door saloon which was converted to a DHC during 2004 and the lines have been much-admired, recalling (obviously at a smaller scale) some of the special-bodied Mercedes-Benz SS (1928-1933), the more ostentatious of the larger Buccialis (1928-1933) and the Bugatti Royale (1927-1933).

A kestrel windfucking.

Sonoramic

Sonoramic (pronounced sonn-o-ram-ick)

A form of enhanced induction for internal combustion engines; sometimes called cross-ram or long-ram induction.

1959:  A compound word constructed by engineers (apparently with no contribution from the marketing department), the construct being the Latin sonō (make a noise, sound) + the English ram + -ic.  Sonō was from the primitive Indo-European swenhe (to sound, resound) which was cognate with the Sanskrit स्वनति (svanati) (to sound, resound).  The more productive Latin derivative was Latin sonus (sound, a noise) from the primitive Indo-European swon-o, again from the root swenhe.  Ram was from the Old English ramm (in the sense of "battering ram", from the Old High German ram, thought probably related to the Old Norse rammr (strong) and the Old Church Slavonic ramenu (impetuous, violent).  The suffix -ic is from the Middle English -ik, from the Old French -ique, from the Latin -icus, from the primitive Indo-European -kos & -ḱos, formed with the i-stem suffix -i- and the adjectival suffix -kos & -ḱos.  The form existed also in the Ancient Greek as -ικός (-ikós), in Sanskrit as -इक (-ika) and the Old Church Slavonic as -ъкъ (-ŭkŭ); A doublet of -y.  In European languages, adding -kos to noun stems carried the meaning "characteristic of, like, typical, pertaining to" while on adjectival stems it acted emphatically; in English it's always been used to form adjectives from nouns with the meaning “of or pertaining to”.  A precise technical use exists in physical chemistry where it's used to denote certain chemical compounds in which a specified chemical element has a higher oxidation number than in the equivalent compound whose name ends in the suffix -ous; (eg sulphuric acid (H₂SO₄) has more oxygen atoms per molecule than sulphurous acid (H₂SO₃).  The engineers were influenced in their coining of sonoramic by the debut three years earlier of the sonogram (thereby creating sonogramic), a form of diagnostic imaging used in medicine.

Fluid dynamics and resonant conditions

1960 Chrysler 300F with long-ram Sonoramic 413 cid (6.8 litre) wedge V8.

All else being equal, increasing the volume of the fuel-air mixture (energy input) flowing through an internal combustion engine (ICE) increases power and torque (energy output).  This can be done with an external device such as a supercharger, or resonance can be created in the induction system by designing a passage which uses the physics of fluid dynamics to increase pressure in specific spaces.  Obviously uninvolved in the engineering, Chrysler’s marketing people claimed in 1960 that the Sonoramic was new technology but for many years the principle had been used in racing engines, the mathematical equations determining acoustics & resonance having been published by German physicist and physician Hermann Ludwig Ferdinand von Helmholtz (1821–1894) in a scientific paper published in 1863.  Indeed, the concept had before been used on road cars but always in a discrete manner; what Chrysler did in 1959 with the long-tube ram-runners was make a dramatic fashion statement in designer colors.

Representation of fluid dynamics under specific resonant conditions.

Essentially, the Sonoramic is an implementation of Sir Isaac Newton's (1642–1727) first law of motion, more commonly known as the law of inertia: “An object at rest tends to stay at rest and an object in motion tends to stay in motion” and it’s the second part which Sonoramic exploited.  During the intake cycle of an engine, the fuel-air mix flows through the intake manifold, past the intake valve, and into the cylinder, then the intake valve shuts.  At that point, the law of inertia comes into play: Because the air was in motion, it wants to stay in motion but can’t because the valve is shut so it piles up against the valve with something of a concertina effect.  With one piece of air piling up on the next, the air becomes compressed and this compressed air has to go somewhere so it turns around and flows back through the intake manifold in the form of a pressure wave.  This pressure wave bounces back and forth in the runner and if it arrives back at the intake valve when the valve opens, it’s drawn into the engine.  This bouncing pressure wave of air and the proper arrival time at the intake valve creates a low-pressure form of supercharging but for this to be achieved all variables have to be aligned so the pressure wave arrives at the intake valve at the right time.  This combination of synchronized events is known as the "resonant conditions".

Long and short-tube Sonoramic intake manifolds.

Most of the Sonoramics produced were long-tubes with a tuned internal-length of thirty inches (760mm), generating prodigious quantities of mid-range torque, ideal for overtaking under highway conditions.  These characteristics were ideal for road cars but also built were a small number of the so-called short-tube Sonoramics, a somewhat misleading term because they shared the external dimensions of the standard devices, the difference being that only a fifteen-inch (380mm) length of the internal passages were resonance-tuned and this, at the expense of mid-range torque, produced much more power high in the rev-range making them more suitable for competition.  Used by Chrysler to set a number of speed records, these were the most charismatic of the breed and a handful were built with manual gearboxes.  At auction, in November 2010, the sole 1960 Chrysler 300F short-tube Sonoramic convertible with the Pont-a-Mousson 4-speed gearbox, sold for US$437,250.

1960 Chrysler 300F long-ram Sonoramic 413 cid (6.8 litre) wedge V8.

The first four generations of the 300 letter series had used increasingly larger versions of the Hemi V8 and the 1958 300D (with a 392 V8) even offered the novelty of a very expensive fuel-injection option but, unlike the mechanical systems offered by Mercedes-Benz, Chevrolet and a handful of others, the Bendix "Electrojector" system used a rudimentary computer which proved unreliable and most were returned to the dealer to be retro-fitted with carburettors.  The Hemi, heavy and expensive to produce, was in 1959’s 300E replaced by the larger capacity, wedge-head 413 which matched it for power but lacked the mystique, something substantially restored in 1960 when the 300F debuted with the sexy Sonoramic.  Ram Induction today is common, although contemporary designs, integrated with fuel-injection systems, are not as photogenic as the original Sonoramics.  As well as raw aluminium, the tubes were available in the designer colors of the time, red, gold and blue; red ones are thought most cool.

Republic P-47 Thunderbolt test-bed with XI-2200 V16 (1945).

Chrysler’s interest in ram tuning was an outgrowth of the desire to exploit the findings of research undertaken during the war developing very high-performance piston engines for fighter aircraft.  This had culminated in the XI-2220, a 2,220 cubic inch (36.4 litre) V16 aero-engine which, rated at 2450 horsepower, was tested in a Republic P-47 Thunderbolt, an appropriate platform given that the P47 was then the biggest, heaviest single-engined fighter ever to enter service (among piston-engined aircraft it still is).  Although the indications were that close to 4000 horsepower was achievable (at least for short durations), with the advent of the jet engine the days of the big piston-engined fighters were nearly done.  The V16 project was cancelled, a fate suffered also by the other outstanding big aero-engine of that last generation: the Napier-Sabre H24.

XI-2220, V16 aircraft engine (1944-1945).

The lessons learned however would be applied on the ground instead of in the skies because although big capacity piston engines had mostly been rendered obsolete for aircraft, a few generations of some just a bit smaller were about to start roaming American roads.  The cars and their engines would be like nothing before seen, Chrysler adopting for their new 331 cubic inch (5.4 litre) V8 in 1951 the V16’s hemispherical combustion chambers, a feature it would use for most of that decade and the next and such was the aura of the name that it’s used still, even if things are now a bit less hemispherical than before.

Chrysler A-311 V8 experimental engine.

The new Hemi V8 had obvious performance potential and the engineers experimented with the tuned-length induction system used on the V16 before the final supercharger/turbocharger combination was adopted.  So successful was the ram-tuned engine (named A-311) that attempts were made to contest the 1952 Indianapolis 500 but the race’s sanctioning body understood the implications the remarkable new powerplant would have on their carefully-curated ecosystem of owners and sponsors and declared it didn’t comply with the rules, even tweaking them a bit to ensure it never would.

Ramcharger Club’s 1949 Plymouth with extreme ram-charging.

The research however continued and, although it’s not clear to what extent their efforts received factory-support, in the late 1950s some young engineers formed the drag racing-focused Ramchargers Club using, somewhat improbably, a 1949 Plymouth business coupe fitted with a particularly extravagant implementation of the technology, a surrealistically tall intake manifold, a device built for dynamometer testing and never intended for a moving vehicle.  They dubbed the Plymouth "High & Mighty".  Bizarre it may have looked but the cartoon-like Plymouth achieved results which vindicated the approach and the system was introduced on 1960 Plymouths, Dodges and Chryslers, the highest evolution of Sonoramic offered on the Chrysler 300 letter series cars until 1964.  Interestingly, while it was only Plymouth which used the Sonoramic name, Dodge labelling the system D-500 Ram Induction and Chrysler simply Ram Induction, all of them are commonly referred to as Sonoramics.

Lindsay Lohan enjoying the effects of fluid dynamics.

Not content with applying the science of fluid dynamics only to the induction system, the Ramchargers used it also for the exhaust headers.  Rather than additional power, the commendably juvenile quest was for noise, the exaggerated, trumpet-like tubes using the megaphone principle which increases volume by raising acoustic impedance.  The desired result was achieved and although there's no record of anyone with a decibel-meter taking a reading, the old Plymouth was said to be spectacularly loud.  Megaphone exhausts were subsequently banned.    

Chrysler Slant Six with Hyper Pak.

Chrysler didn’t restrict the ram induction idea to the big-block V8s, using it also on the short-lived (1960-1962) Hyper Pak performance option for the both 170 cubic inch (2.8 litre, 1959-1969) and 225 cubic inch (3.7 litre, 1987-2000) versions of their Slant Six, the engineers taking advantage of the space afforded by the angled block to permit the curvaceous intake runners nearly to fill the engine bay.  The Hyper Pak wasn't seen in showrooms but was available as an over-the-counter kit (literally a cardboard box containing all necessary parts) from Dodge & Plymouth spare parts departments and its life was limited because it became a victim of its own success.  Although less suitable for street use because it turned the mild-mannered straight-six into something at its best at full throttle, in the race events for which it was eligible it proved unbeatable, dominating the competition for two years, compelling the sanctioning body cancel the series.

Although it was the longer lived 225 version which gained the Slant Six its stellar reputation for durability and the ease with which additional power could be extracted, there's always been a following for the short-stroke 170 because of its European-like willingness to rev, the characteristics of the over-square engine (unique among the slant-six's three displacements (170-198-225)) unusually lively for a US straight-six.  Despite some aspects of the specification being modest (there were only four main bearings although they were the beefy units used in the 426 cubic inch Street Hemi V8), for much of its life it used a tough forged steel crankshaft and high-speed tolerant solid valve lifters and was a famously robust engine.  Despite that, after the Hyper Pak affair, Chrysler showed little interest in any performance potential, knowing the US preference for V8s, something which doomed also Pontiac's short-lived single overhead camshaft (SOHC) straight-six (1966-1969).  A version of the 225 with a two-barrel carburetor (rated at 160 horsepower, an increase of 15 over the standard unit) was offered in some non-North American markets where V8 sales were not dominant and it proved very popular in South Africa, Australia, New Zealand and Central & South America but only when tighter US emission regulations forced its adoption did a 225 with a two barrel carburetor appear in the home market, installed to restore power losses rather than seek gains.

Trans

Trans (pronounced trans or tranz)

(1) A person who identifies as transgender (though now the polite use seems to be as a modifier (trans-man, trans-woman, trans-gender and not always hyphenated), the prefix denoting “on the other side of,” referring to the misalignment of one’s gender identity with one's sex assigned at birth.

(2) As an offensive slur, a historic term for a transsexual (itself a now less common term) and often used as “trannie” (which tended to be non-offensive if used within the transsexual community).  As a slur, both trans and trannie are sometimes used (often technically incorrectly) as expressions of general disapprobation of anybody perceived as maintaining an identity outside traditionally constructed gender norms.

(3) In chemistry, in (or constituting, forming, or describing) a double bond in which the greater radical on both ends is on the opposite side of the bond.

(4) In chemistry, in (or constituting, forming, or describing) a coordination compound in which the two instances of a particular ligand are on opposite sides of the central atom (eg the trans effect is the labilization of ligands which are trans to certain other ligands).

(5) In cytology, of the side of the Golgi apparatus farther from the endoplasmic reticulum.

(6) In the slang of mechanics and certain mechanical engineers, a shorting of “transmission” (an intermediate input/output device between a power unit and its eventual delivery), sometimes also truncated as “tranny” (both dating back at least decades).

Mid-late twentieth century: Transsexual appears in the literature in 1953 but then it had the meaning "intense desire to change one's sexual status, including the anatomical structure" but as early as 1941 “transsexuality” was being used to describe both "homosexuality & bisexuality".  In the current sense it has existed since 1955 but for decades the older uses overlapped.  The prefix trans- is from the Latin trāns (adverb and preposition) (across, beyond, through) from the Proto-Italic trānts, from the primitive Indo-European tr̥h-n̥ts, from terh- (through, throughout, over).  It was cognate with the English through, the Scots throch (through), the West Frisian troch (through), the Dutch door (through), the German durch (through), the Gothic þairh (through), the Albanian tërthor (through, around) and the Welsh tra (through).  Trans is a noun and adjective, the noun plural historically was transes but as trans has become a notable component of identity politics, trans is now often used, especially collectively.  The noun transness is a recent coining and although they’re still non-standard forms, (sometimes jocular) creations such as transbionic & transnessness) have and will continue to be created but it doesn’t seem that transitivity (either (1) the rule in formal grammar which defines the degree in which any one verb can take/govern objects or (2) in mathematics and formal logic, the property of being transitive) has yet in this context been re-purposed. 

The prefix trans- most occurs in loanwords from the Latin (transcend; transfix) and the model imparts meanings related to “across,” “beyond,” “through,” “changing thoroughly,” “transverse,” in combination with elements of any origin: transubstantiation; trans-Siberian; transempirical etc.  In chemistry, the prefix indicating that a chemical compound has a molecular structure in which two groups or atoms are on opposite sides of a double bond trans-butadiene and there does seem to be a widely followed convention in chemistry that trans is written in italics.  In astronomy the prefix denotes something farther from the sun (than a given planet), thus the terms trans-Martian; trans-Neptunian etc.  In genetics, it refers to having two genes, each carrying a mutation, located on opposite chromosomes of a homologous pair.  Transylvania (literally "beyond the forest) was from the Medieval Latin, the construct being trans- + sylva (the geographical area referenced); it was so-called in reference to the wooded mountains that surround it.  The pop-culture associations with vampires make the place famous.  The title of Giuseppe Verdi's (1813–1901) 1853 Opera La traviata (literally “the woman led astray”) but usually translated as “The Fallen Woman” is from traviata ("to lead beyond the way”) from tra- (across, beyond), from the Latin trāns.  English has many words either influenced by or which trans is a part including Trans-Atlantic, trans-oceanic, transnational, transsexual, translocation, transpontine, transliteration, transept, transect, transducer, transmit, transfer, transit, transmute, translucent, transform, transverse, transfuse, transitive, transcribe, transubstantiation, transplant, transcend, transfigure, transgress, transfix, transact, transmutation, transpire, transient, transfusion, transparent, transport, travesty, transpose, transgression, translate, transmigration, transaction & trajectory.

The state commonly called Jordan (الأردن in the the Arabic (Al-ʾUrdunn)) is officially the Hashemite Kingdom of Jordan.  In one of the classic colonial fixes at which the British (through long practice) used to be really good, the Emirate of Transjordan was created in 1921 as a British protectorate, independence granted in 1946 as the Hashemite Kingdom of Transjordan, renamed in 1949 to its present name to celebrate the capture of the West Bank during the 1948 Arab–Israeli War, held as annexed territory until lost in the six-day war in 1967, the claim not renounced until 1988 as part of a peace treaty with the state of Israel.  The name of Jordan is from the Jordan River which forms much of its northwestern border, the name though derived from the Hebrew ירד (Yarad) (one who descends), a reference to the waterway’s physical geography.  The name “Transjordan” wasn’t actually an invention of the British Colonial Office but an adoption of a geographical expression in use for centuries meaning “across the Jordan” and used, historically, to denote the lands east of the river.

The trans wars

The terms transgender and trans (in this context) are technically interchangeable but so fraught are the politics of identity that some may have objections to either and the general rule is to conform to whichever preference is expressed.  The developments have been so rapid in the early twenty-first century that trans has attracted the interest of the linguistics community and its been noted there are transgender people who prefer writing trans compounds as two words (ie trans man, trans woman, trans person), and when used as an open compound with a space, trans functions as an adjective modifying a noun.  Although to many it may seem a fine distinction, spelling these words as closed or hyphenated compounds (transmale, trans-woman etc) loses the distinction between trans as a descriptive adjective and man, woman, or person as a human being and on that basis cis male and cis female would be preferred although there’s no evidence of concern from the CIS community except those who assert the concept is unnecessary and add nothing to male & female.

The second "A" in LGBTQQIAAOP refers to "allies" (straight people who accept and support those anywhere in the LGBTQQIAAOP range(s)).  What allies do is actively support or advocate for the non-straight community; it does not apply to those who merely "don't oppose".  In supporting the queer participation in film, Ms Logan is an ally.

There is also trans+, dating from 2003, which doesn’t as such add a new category to gender fluidity but instead acts (mostly adjectively) as an expression of inclusiveness, an all-encompassing blanket term covering all specific gender identities which are not cisgender and (more controversially), is used by some even to include "allies" (in the sense of the second "A" in LGBTQQIAAOP) from the among the CIS.  The emergence of the concept of trans+ may have been political, a desire to avoid the internal divisions which have been documented between the LGBTQQIAAOP factions although the extent to which another constructed (and by some perhaps imposed) label can be effective in limiting the fissiparousness which may to some extent have been at least encouraged by the dictatorial implications of the label LGBTQQIAAOP is debatable.

What trans+ does is add to the (narrowly defined ) trans community (the range of gender identities including transgender, genderqueer, gender-fluid etc) the genderless, the agender, the subgender, the postgender, the bigender, the varigender and (presumably) whatever other flavors may emerge from the seemingly expanding spectrum(s) among the non-cisgender.  Another intriguing innovation, noted first in 2017 was the appending of the asterisk, presumably as a wildcard as used (since circa 1969) when handling the searching of computer file systems but linguistically, trans*, trans+* & trans*+ don’t appear in any way to change the meaning of trans+ and should probably be thought of as a strengthening of the denotation of inclusiveness.  That said, within any community (however defined), there will always be those who long for (an exclusionary) exclusivity for their faction so it’s not impossible that trans+ may yet fracture.  Transgender Day of Visibility is celebrated every 31 March, the day set aside to advocate for and celebrate the accomplishments of transgender persons, one right wing US politician who made no secret of their transphobia opining that if it has to exist, it should be moved to 29 February.

TERF but not teal: The photogenic Katherine Deves for whom green is green and  blue is blue and never the twain shall meet.

Unexpectedly, transphobia emerged as an issue in the 2022 Australian general election.  Ms Katherine Deves (b 1978; lawyer and candidate (Liberal) for the division of Warringah (NSW)), the personal selection (“captain’s pick” in the sporting parlance borrowed by politics) as candidate by Prime Minister Scott Morrison (b 1968; prime-minister since 2018) excited controversy firstly by expressing a view that trans-women should not be allowed to compete in sporting competition against cis-women because of the advantages in strength she said their origins as cis-men inherently conferred, regardless of any subsequent treatment.  That was enough to excite a reaction on twitter but things really erupted when historic social media posts were leaked, including “half of all males with trans identities are sex offenders”, referring to (gay) surrogacy as “prostitution”, suggesting a link between “transvestism and serial killers”, claiming trans teenagers were “surgically mutilated” and describing a gay magazine as “… just a mouthpiece for misogynists and the Rainbow Reich.”  Given comparing anything to the Nazis is best left to consenting historians behind closed doors, that might have been expected to trigger another twitterstorm but reaction was untypically subdued, the issue of transphobia seemingly drowning out everything else.  The US president had also caught her eye.  Disturbed by his pro-trans position, she posted that she didn't "...believe Biden is capable of thinking much at all, he’s clearly showing signs of dementia’’ although she refused to accept his views were sincere and he was forced by political necessity to pander to the “very powerful and incredibly dangerous” transgender activists within the Democratic Party.

Demonstration in the Warringah electorate by the Community Action for Rainbow Rights to protest the Liberal Party’s endorsement of Ms Deves as their candidate.

Ms Deves, a self-described TERF (trans exclusionary radical feminist) issued a statement in which she acknowledged that “…trying to prosecute arguments about complex, nuanced and difficult subjects ... should not take place on a platform that propagates offence and division and hurt.” “Going forward…” she added, “I will be conducting myself in a dignified and respectful fashion”, noting that twitter “…was not the appropriate platform to do so.”  “I have removed myself from that platform, and I will not be going back there again.”  “With this issue, we have a collision of rights and thus far the voices of women and girls have not been heard. And when we have a collision of rights in liberal democracies, we debate them in a reasonable, measured fashion – that's what should have taken place here.”

It wasn’t a difficult statement to deconstruct, Ms Deves, who previously had also condemned surrogacy as a “human rights violation” not retreating from or recanting her expressed opinions, just saying they’d no longer appear on twitter.  Mr Morrison, not previously noted for any contribution to feminist thought, seemed grateful finally to have stumbled on such a champion of women’s rights and declared “She is a woman standing up for women and girls and their access to fair sport in this country”, adding “I am not going to allow her to be silenced.”

Nor it seems, shortly, will twitter.  Ms Deves may be joyful about libertarian Elon Musk's (b 1971) plans to overthrow the censorious ancien régime at twitter and may yet return to the platform but it may be a moot point whether her advocacy in the matter of women’s sport is anyway an example of transphobia.  That discussion is solely about participation in sporting competitions restricted to “women”, there being no debate about the right of trans-persons to enter events restricted to “men”.  The issue therefore is not one of a generalized transphobia but rather "transwomanphobia" although that does seem no less objectionable.  However, regardless of the syntax, it’s not something which is going to go away soon because the medical and legal devices adopted by sporting codes and the anti-doping agencies have not satisfied everybody and it may be no such solution exists.  The dispute remains afoot.

The Warringah electorate has existed in essentially its present form since a 1922 redistribution (re-districting) and has been associated with some notable characters in political history.  The member (as an independent and for the Liberal Party and its predecessors) between 1937-1951 was Sir Percy Spender (1897–1985; foreign minister 1949-1951; Ambassador to the United States 1951–1958; member of the International Court of Justice 1958–1967 (president 1964-1967)).  Sir Percy was the grandfather of Allegra Spender (b 1978), a Sydney business identity & heiress who is standing as one of the so-called “teal independents” (teal presumably the idea of mixing a “blue-blood” establishment background with a “green” environmental consciousness) targeting those Liberal-held seats thought vulnerable because the voters’ profile tends to a more progressive agenda.  Throughout his career at the bar, in politics and on the bench, Sir Percy was noted, though not always praised, for his independence of mind and one suspects he might have approved of his grand-daughter’s designs on his old seat.

Sunday at Clontarf Beach (1979), oil on canvas, by Salvatore Zofrea (b 1946).

Edward (Ted) St John (1916-1994; a practicing QC) (confusingly pronounced sin-gin in one of the historic quirks of Anglo-French) held the seat for three turbulent years between 1966-1969, during which he managed to upset two prime-ministers and not a few others repelled by his moralizing although, despite his prudish and puritanical reputation, he was a doughty defender of free speech and appeared for the defense in the Oz and Thurunka obscenity cases (which saw him, bizarrely, labeled "a pornographer") and would later in his legal chambers hang Salvatore Zofrea’s Sunday at Clontarf Beach, something a little more explicit than what usually adored the walls of the Sydney bar.  His memoir (A Time to Speak (1969)) was uncompromising but well-written.

Less impressive was the tenure of Michael MacKellar (1938–2015) who kept the plum seat in his grasp between 1969-1994.  Due more to the effluxion of time than any obvious talent, he served as an undistinguished member of the Fraser government (1975-1983) but is now remembered only for an attempt to evade duty on imported goods, an event blamed, as is traditional, on a mistake by a member of staff apparently employed by the taxpayer also to attend to the minister’s personal paperwork.  In an example of how cover-ups tend to be worse than the original indiscretions, a fellow Minister, John Moore (b 1936; MP 1975-2001, minister in the Fraser and Howard governments), attempted a cover-up, the consequence being they both were compelled to resign their offices.  Whatever might be the criticisms of Malcolm Fraser (1930–2015; prime-minister 1975-1983), he did maintain high standards of ministerial propriety which have for some time, essentially ceased to exist and the decline in the enforcement of those standards does mean subsequently there have been plenty of second and third acts in Australian politics.  Although he never again held office, Mr Mackellar did return to serve on the opposition front bench and thrice unsuccessfully sought the deputy leadership of the Liberal Party.

Mr Moore’s story was even more amusing.  In opposition between 1983-1996, he served in the shadow cabinet while also making a few unsuccessful attempts to become deputy leader but his most notable contribution was as one of a triumvirate of malcontents who (quite competently it must be admitted) in 1989 arranged the knifing in the back of John Howard’s (b 1939; prime-minister 1996-2007) leadership and the re-installation of (the previously and subsequently) unsuccessful Andrew Peacock (1939–2021; leader of the opposition 1983–1985 & 1989–1990).  Mr Howard proved remarkably forgiving (or just desperate to afforce his team with some experience, none except him, Moore and one other ever having served in a cabinet), appointing Mr Moore to cabinet in 1996 and even (in a sign of the declining standards which have since further been eroded) not sacking him when he was found to have breached the ministerial code of conduct.  His usefulness to Mr Howard over by 2001, he was dropped from cabinet and Mr Moore resigned his seat at a point when the party’s fortunes were at a low ebb, the subsequent by-election delivering to the Labor Party what had hitherto been a safe Liberal seat.  In 2015, in what came to be known as the “snouts in the trough” case, Mr Moore and three other former MPs took to the High Court the claim that some (slight) limits placed on some taxpayer-funded allowances (to which they claimed they were for life entitled) were unconstitutional.  They lost.

MacKellar’s successor was Tony Abbott (b 1957; prime-minister 2013-2015) who held Warringah between 1994-2019, always for the Liberal Party although his views seemed more often to reflect those of the Democratic Labor Party (DLP or "Vatican down-under" as it's better understood) which many assumed was his true spiritual home.  Mr Abbott, in what may prove either an aberration or emblematic of something of a shift in political alignments, in 2019 lost the seat to Zali Steggall (b 1974; lawyer and former Winter Olympian) who stood as an independent on a platform which focused on the matter of climate change (the scientific validity of which Mr Abbott once famously dismissed as "crap").  Ms Steggal will in the 2022 poll be re-contesting Warringah, joining Ms Spender as one of the “teal independents”.

The Trans-Am

Trans-Am racing 1969: Porsche 911Rs and Alfa-Romeo GTA.

The Trans-Am Series is a motorsport competition in North America (thus the name trans- (across) + America(s)).  Sanctioned by the Sports Car Club of America (SCCA).  It was first held in 1966, its classic years between 1966-1970, an era in which many of the US manufacturers provided factory backing to the participating teams and there was a symbiotic relationship with the SCCA which came to adjust the rules to suit the available machinery, a reversal of the original model in which the regulations were laid down and the cars were required to conform.

Trans-Am racing 1969: Chevrolet Camaro Z/28s and Ford Boss Mustangs.

Popular from the start, the rules were designed to attract the interest of the baby boomers who were buying versions of the cars raced, and it was originally a series for FIA Group 2 Touring Cars, (slightly) modified standard production vehicles within certain size constraints and built in a certain volume in two capacity classes (122 cubic inches (2.0 litre) and 305 cubic inches (5.0 litre)), both running together on the track.  As intended, it attracted the entries of the US "pony cars" (Plymouth Barracuda, Ford Mustang and their imitators) and the high-performance versions of the European machinery sold in the US.  Bizarrely as it now sounds, the latter class included the then two-litre Porsche 911 because the Germans had prevailed on the SCCA to classify it as a "sedan" but it was then a different sort of vehicle and, cognizant of its evolution, it was later re-classified as a "sports car".  The two litre class was interesting and fiercely contested but it was the noise and fury of the V8 powered pony cars which attracted sponsorship and crowds.

Trans-Am racing 1970: Ford Boss Mustang and Plymouth T/A Cuda.

The series is remembered for the competition between pony cars such as the Ford Mustang, Mercury Cougar, Chevrolet Camaro, Pontiac Firebird, Dodge Challenger, Plymouth Barracuda & AMC Javelin but it didn't long last as something for the typical cars bought from showrooms in the tens of thousands.  The victory of the Mustang in the first two years of the championship had done much for Ford's image and in response, with a pot of money in one hand and a copy of the SCCA rule-book in the other, Chevrolet built a special version of their new pony car, the Camaro Z/28 which featured a unique 302 cubic inch version of the small-block V8 which, highly strung and noisy, obviously wasn’t intended for anywhere but a race track.  To this, Ford responded.  They had enlarged their mainstream small-block V8 to 302 cubic inches but it wasn't race-ready like the Z/28 so what was concocted was one of the wilder power-plants of the era, the tunnel-port 302 although, despite the company's assurances, it was never produced in sufficient numbers to conform with the SCCA's rules but of greater concern was the way it was prone to blowing up.  What Ford had done was to take a technique which had proved successful on the bigger FE engine, which in 427 cubic inch (7.0 litre) form had been reliable enough twice to win the Le Mans twenty-four classic, solving a problem inherent to pushrod engines; the limitations imposed on intake port size by the need to provide a passage for the pushrod tube.  A tunnel-port was, as the name implied, a tunnel for the pushrod which passed directly through the port which could now be made as large as possible.  Surprisingly, the tubular tunnels proved to have no adverse effect on gas flow, the tunnel-port 302s producing prodigious power and, satisfied what they'd seen on the dynamometer was indicative of a race-winning engine, Ford went racing.  Unfortunately, those big ports which guaranteed the stunning top-end power actually inhibited low and mid-range torque and that was what was required on the twisty road courses and street circuits where the Trans-Am cars ran and the high-revving tunnel ports, away from the static environment of the dynamometer test rig, generated much stress and components began frequently to break.  Chevrolet won the next two Trans-Am titles.  Ford came up with a better idea the next year, the Boss 302 sacrificing some of the tunnel-port's intoxicating high range response but delivering its power over a range actually usable by race drivers and Ford duly won the 1970 championship.

Trans-Am racing 1968: Pontiac Firebird.

The writing however was on the wall for the practice of putting race-engines in road cars.  The world was changing and the manufacturers were being forced to divert resources away from motorsport to more prosaic pursuits like safety and emission control, racing budgets shrinking or evaporating.  In response, the SCCA changed the rules so that it was no longer necessary for manufacturers to produce and sell a specified number of the sometimes cantankerous race-bred mills, instead allowing them to modify just what was used in the race-cars, even increasing or reducing capacity as required.  Thus the exotic 302s (and Pontiac's stillborn 303) were retired and Chrysler was encouraged to enter the fray, the race teams de-stroking their LA 340 cubic inch (5.5 litre) V8 to meet the limit.  The pragmatic approach sustained interest for another couple of years but by 1973 the manufacturers had withdrawn support to concentrate on things more essential and the first oil shock that year guaranteed the corporate gaze would remain averted from the circuits.  The Trans-Am series however, under a variety of names, continued and is still run although it's never again captured the imagination the way it did in that first half-decade.

The Pontiac Trans Am

1969 Pontiac Trans Am.

Over four generations, the Pontiac Firebird was produced between 1967-2002 but is best remembered for the Trans Am versions, introduced in 1969.  The original intention had been that like Chevrolet’s Camaro Z/28, the Firebird Trans Am would be a genuine race-ready package, the centrepiece of which would be a short-stroke, 303 cubic inch V8.  Unfortunately, development of the 303 was delayed and by the time a reputed twenty-five odd had been installed in pre-production vehicles, the SCCA had changed the rules and the special race engines were no longer required but, having invested so much already in the other parts, Pontiac decided anyway to proceed which meant (1) the true Trans Am never actually took part in the series after which it was named and (2) the production version was really just a Firebird which looked like a racing car.  Fortunately, it transpired that was exactly what the market really wanted and for decades the Trans Am was usually Pontiac’s most profitable range, the bottom like dented only slightly by the US$5.00 per unit paid to the SCCA as a licensing fee for the use of the name (although Pontiac deleted the hyphen).

1973 Pontiac Trans Am SD-455.

Perhaps the most famous of the Trans Ams were those produced in 1973-1974 and fitted with the SD-455 engine (455 cubic inches (7.5 litre)), an unexpected throwback to high-performance in an era when outputs were in decline and it was thought both the industry and buyers had lost interest in such things.  Resurrecting the SD (Super-Duty) moniker which Pontiac had used as a high-performance designator in the early 1960s, the SD-455 is infamous for the trick with which Pontiac tried to fool the EPA’s (Environmental Protection Agency) inspectors, a primitive version of dieselgate which in the twenty-first century would cost Volkswagen and others (all also guilty as sin) billions.  Pontiac’s engineers had studied the parameters of the EPA’s tailpipe-emission test cycle and, noting it ran for fifty seconds, devised an ingenious system which after 53 seconds deactivated the critical anti-emission plumbing.  Under this regime, the SD-455 was able to produce the 310 horsepower which was by then the top rating in the industry while still receiving the vital EPA certification required legally to sell the thing.  Unfortunately, the EPA’s engineers turned out to be just as clever and detected the ruse, a more impressive performance than that of the later eurocrats who “caught” Volkswagen only because Mercedes-Benz snitched on them in exchange for immunity from prosecution.  Those were more forgiving times and instead of being pursued through the courts, Pontiac was required only to follow the rules and although the SD-455 had to be detuned a little, the resulting 290 horsepower was still more than anyone else could manage in those years.

High Performance Cars Magazine, April 1973.

SD-455 production numbers were low, 295 in 1973 (252 in Trans Ams & 43 in Firebird Formulas) and 1001 in 1974 (943 Trans Ams & 58 Formulas) and after the troubles with the EPA, plans to offer the engine in other models were abandoned although not until after some pre-production (310 horsepower) Trans Ams and one GTO (a larger, four-seat coupé) had been given to the press for testing and publicity.  The SD-455 Trans Am’s reputation is thus probably a little inflated because many of the performance numbers quoted come from the early tests of the machines with the anti-EPA cheat gear attached but more embarrassing was that Hi-Performance Cars magazine, impressed with the SD-455 GTO they'd tested, announced it as the winner of their 1973 Car of The Year Award, the magazine hitting the news-stands just the decision was taken not to produce the thing.