The new Dodge Viper... it will give you wings

What’s got 8.4 litres, 13 track records... and a surprisingly comfortable ride? Our man goes Stateside – on a wing and a prayer

This is my first column of 2016 written within 2,000 miles of home. Which means I’m suddenly having to fast-track all those thoughts you have the day before returning to work for the first time in the new year. And I’d better hurry up – we’ll be landing in just over three hours.

‘Always do what you’ve always done and you’ll always get what you’ve always got,’ said someone very wise somewhere once. Similar to another one of my favourites: ‘The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different outcome.’

So what would I like to change? I’d like to be more me if at all possible. I felt more me than I have done for years during these last two-and-a-half weeks away. Playing with the kids on holiday, meeting up with an old pal of mine for a quick, sneaky beer in LA before disappearing deep into the Nevada desert and the January snow to make a film for a television car show I’ve been secretly working on. Shhh, don’t tell anyone. When it comes to cars there are some excellent metaphors for being unapologetically yourself and not worrying about what others think. And if you want to see the epitome of cars happy in their own skin it’s to the land of the free, from where I happen to be returning, that we must look.

The mighty Mustang, about to be launched in Europe for the first time ever in right-hand drive mode; the ridiculously commodious Chrysler Suburban, which has not so much infiltrated the US limo market as turned it into a dictatorship; and how about this week’s snarling, gurgling, completely outrageous test car – the brand-new Dodge Viper ACR? First of all. Yes, it’s road-legal. All 8.4 litres of it. That’s right, I said EIGHT POINT FOUR LITRES!

The Dodge Viper was first dreamt up in the late Eighties as some kind of modern take on the stunning Shelby Daytona (right), one of the most beautiful-looking Yank Tanks in all of Christendom. Carroll Shelby himself drove the Viper on one of its first major outings, as a pace car at the 1991 Indy 500.

It’s always been shamelessly impractical, built for fun, and fun alone. I remember we featured a Viper on The Big Breakfast back in 1993 – it had a silly little fibreglass targa top that was guaranteed to fly off if you so much as even mouthed the words ‘50 miles an hour’. Marvellous.

And just look at what the bods from Dodge SRT, the equivalent of Mercedes AMG, have come up with this time around. Is it a car with a giant wing on the back, or a giant wing with a car stuck somewhere to the front of it. And it is all about that wing. Before we go downforce crazy, a quick summary of what the ACR (American Club Racer) is like to be in. ‘Spine-tingling’ just about sums it up. ‘Surprisingly comfortable’ is another phrase that comes to mind. And how about ‘bordering on sensible’, even.

Everything is where you’d want it to be. They haven’t gone overboard on the faux-macho weapons systems buttons like some other manufacturers feel the need to do. The driving position is nigh-on perfect thanks in no small measure to the electronically adjustable pedals. Ferrari made a massive deal of its manual system, which does exactly the same thing in La Ferrari. The Viper’s is far more user-friendly.

Yes, siree, all was looking swell even before I pressed the main engine start, after which the O MG-o meter went into hyper drive. (I must point out at this juncture that I was on a very large slab of tarmac owned by the US Navy, which had given me special dispensation to go tonto for a few hours.)

There is a launch-control system but you really don’t need it, as I found out on the way to my first 270kph experience. I did this quite a lot and could, and would, have gone faster but I really didn’t want a bill of several hundred thousand dollars for taking out a cluster of military runway lights. The Viper could not have been hotter off the line. She snaked and smoked in all the right places up to the 7,000rpm red line in every gear. Except sixth, that is, which she really didn’t like, going slower if anything. Topping out in fifth is the way to go. But this rocket is all about the corners. That huge (adjustable!) wing and that massive front splitter (it comes with a choice of two: one for the road, one for the track – you gotta love that!) along with a humungous rear diffuser and countless side fins and air scoops that produce a ton of air to give the Viper nowhere to go but downwards.

It is almost impossible to get even a little bit sideways without stuffing it up on purpose completely and spinning to a shuddering halt. And the thing is, you really don’t need to. This is the ultimate pursuit vehicle. Every police station should have one, as it will out-manoeuvre any other car on the road today.

Its downforce-or-die mentality is also what has seen it obliterate track records all over the world in the past six months. It holds 13 in all, more than any other production car on the planet. ‘Go big or go home’ is another of my favourite mantras. There is no better manifestation

of this than the beast I got to drive in Nevada.

I have no idea what it’s like to drive the ACR on a public highway, but that’s not the Viper owner’s mentality. They are right up there among the top 0.01 per cent of the quintessential thrill-seeking petrol-headed community who like to enjoy their cars somewhere they can really let loose.

Not great news for the ozone layer but a stark reminder that the chief side-effect of life is death, come what may. We’re here for a good time, not a long time; we never know what’s around the corner. But one thing’s for sure – in this beast you’ll be first around the corner to find out.