BlaRo
Little Nudger
Those of you among us might remember that when I first joined this forum, I was obsessed with the Nissan 300ZX Twin Turbo. Here's a secret: I still am.
And I got to drive one, albeit briefly, but still indelibly.
25 years later, the Nissan 300ZX Twin Turbo is still dreamworthy
And I got to drive one, albeit briefly, but still indelibly.
What's the car of your dreams? Is it something fast, something rare, something seductive? Is it a shot out of left field, a tour de force by a company at the height of its powers, spurred onwards by an invincible economy? Is it a car nearly forgotten by unimaginative enthusiasts who traffic in clich?s, who march in lockstep with the obvious? Is it fragile and cantankerous -- a car that demands an unbound patience, a gentle hand that remains unwavering when writing that check? Is it a car that made an indelible impression in your own youth, from an age that seems to inform all of your adult opinions, one that has survived the fickle changes of time and taste?
I'll tell you what my dream car is. It's a Nissan 300ZX Twin Turbo, built from 1989 to 1996 (and for two more years in Japan). A car that landed on this planet with a wallop. Wide-eyed headlights, unmistakable and large, a soft and curvy wedge: commanding, but never aggressive. Skinny, but still a bruiser. Modest, but stealthy. A car that appeals to those who know what it is. Can a car speak to you, even if you've never driven it? If you've never driven anything?
This new Z -- oh, no, it was the wave of the future, and it would demonstrate that by expanding upon every facet of the outgoing model. It was one of the first cars to be designed via CAD. It had a coefficient of drag of just 0.32. It hung with Japanese-techno-faddish as much as possible: like the Acura NSX (and later the Honda S2000), its sloping dashboard foisted its climate controls up to the driver's hands, where it really mattered. One turbo? Hell, no -- two Garrett T2/T25 hybrid turbines, piped to twin intercoolers the size of Nineties laptops, hooked up to enough plumbing to impress the Romans. Four-wheel steering was the in sound from way out; Nissan's electronically controlled Super HICAS system was designed for high-speed stability, which we reported in October 1989 also "creates a sense of demonic turn-in." Today there's a bypass kit you can buy in case your 25-year-old solenoids impart the same hellish feeling.
For a sports car, it weighed a whopping 3,500 pounds, even before two decades and 300 or so rounds of IIHS recommendations. Despite this, its 300 hp could shove it forward to 60 mph in just five seconds. (These guys are after me. But they can't catch me.) Remember a time when 300 hp was earth-shattering? Remember a time before a Toyota Camry had nearly enough power to streak past the Japanese Gentleman's Agreement? (Even the 300ZX adhered to this 276-hp agreement. Not in America, where we view gentleman's agreements as tantamount to treason.)
"Overall, we find the 300ZX Twin Turbo on initial acquaintance to be an astonishing car," we wrote, "particularly for its combination and value." When the Nissan 300ZX went away in America, in 1996, it was more than just the end for a midlevel exotic -- spurred on by waning sports-car interest and a bloated sticker price (over $40,000 in Clinton dollars), a victim of its own exuberance. It was the end of 26 years of the Z-car in America, an end to all that: the Fairlady, Black Gold, Shiro, Stillen SMZ, Brock Racing, AWESOME. It was the end of Major Motion. Nissan numbered the last 300 brought into America, labeled them "Commemorative Editions," and watched as the sports car renaissance fizzled out.
25 years later, the Nissan 300ZX Twin Turbo is still dreamworthy