You were lucky to catch a glimpse of the engine under miles of contorted vacuum hoses. Raising most hoods on new cars back then was like confronting the convoluted entrails of a freshly-slit pork belly. It’s fair to say that this engine was one of the first truly “modern” engines, certainly so out of Detroit. Now it was world-class state of the art: port fuel injection, and Ford’s new and very advanced EEC-IV electronic engine management system.
The Turbo four was completely re-engineered for the new 1983 TC. And at least Ford didn’t back down after their first attempt. Sad to say,that 132 hp it was still substantially more powerful than the pathetic 255 inch V8 with its 118hp rating. And not exactly the best running engine around. The results were primitive too, with a modest 132hp rating. Instead of a modern fuel-injected design, Ford’s 1979 Mustang Turbo 2.3 was a primitive affair, where the boost was force-fed into the carburetor. Porsche’s 1976 930 Turbo reignited them, and Ford jumped in too.
GM had pioneered turbos in 1962, with the Monza Spyder and Olds Jetfire, but within a few years, turbo-fever flamed out. But diesels were too just too slow, noisy and stinky to inspire an act of act of passion. My innate attraction to efficiency, heightened by the very recent energy crisis II, had me pretty obsessed with the idea of diesels as well as small turbo-charged gasoline engines that could perform like a V8 and sip gas like a four. I knew instantly: we were meant for each other.Īnd what about the preliminaries? A few mental masturbation sessions after seeing the new TC on the cover and in the pages of Car and Driver. With her long sleek bod, she stood out from the crowded lot of boxy Fords like Keira Knightley at a Walmart checkout line. She was young, taut and fresh, straight off the trailer. At least the glow of satisfaction lasted a bit longer (with the car).Īnyway, there I was, innocently tooling to work one morning in my 1980 Skylark company car, and as I rolled past the Ford dealer in Santa Monica, SHE winked at me: the first 1983 Thunderbird Turbo Coupe in town. There has to be a first time, for better or for worse. Even though it didn’t turn out exactly as I might have expected, I certainly don’t regret it it was an inevitable rite of passage. Buying my first new car was a lot like losing my virginity: it was unexpected, impulsive and quick.
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