There’s been a lot of wind whipping up the wilds of my heart. It could be this late summer heat. It could be a greater global anxiety. It could be the presence of the 2003 Ford Mustang Mach 1, ripping a burnout into my mind.
The Mach 1 of these years has stuck with me for some reason, plopped right at the beginning of my high school years. End of my middle school years? Whichever.
I hated the Boomers then, already. I loved their original muscle cars, though. The old 454 Chevelles. The Ram Air Pontiacs. Cars like this Mach 1 seemed like a half measure, an affront.
It was such a retro move, anticipating the full-retro 2005 generation. I saw its shaker hood. I saw its purposeful stance. I did not believe in it. Well, I tried not to believe it, as Ford wanted me to see it. I couldn’t take it as something honorary. It just seemed strange. But, still, somehow, it sits with me.
It made a claimed 305 horsepower from its 4.6-liter Modular V8, 320 lb-ft of torque, too. Ford says it was “cranking out” that horsepower. Yes. It did.
Now I see them for what they are: tuned, quad-cam rear-drive performance cars, with three pedals and not much else. I can see past the retroism. I see only the burnouts. I see only the powerslides.
Some 7,182 were made. Each one is an angel. I wish them to be, so that my Bush Years dreams are not nightmares.