Gallery: New Corvette Stingray Is the Best Sports Car America Has Ever Built
011954 C1
1954 C1. It looks good. Classic Americana, cruising-down-Woodward-with-a-blonde-on-your-arm good. But underneath that achingly attractive exterior is a chassis hastily pulled from a Chevy sedan and a wheezy, 150 HP inline-six mated to a *two-speed* automatic transmission. It packs all the excitement and engagement of a narcoleptic chess player. But it looks good. And with a windshield at chest level and a steering wheel the diameter of a small planet, it's as endearing as it is hapless.
021966 C2 427
1966 C2 427. This is a Corvette. The original Stingray. And GM didn’t bring the standard version, with its relatively pedestrian 396 cu-in engine. They brought the big boy to drive, the 430-HP 427. That means a 0-60 time of five seconds. In 1966, those were supercar levels; even by today's standards it's brutally quick. If the C7 sounds like God's orchestra, this is Satan's 40-piece Goregrind band. It's just a shame about the handling. And the steering. And the brakes. But Chevy was crazy enough to race this thing at Le Mans.
031954 C1
1954 C1. If you could taste the end of an era, it's lingering on my tongue as I drive the '72 Stingray. The refinement is barely up, but the excitement is way down. Blame Chevrolet's shift towards civility and the automotive malaise of the '70s, but there's no excuse to have 350 cubes of displacement and only churn out 255 HP. The lightened, power-assisted steering and asthmatic air conditioning are better attuned to boulevard cruising than drag strip crushing, and there's a pervasive sense that at any moment a pimple-faced kid is going to run up to the door asking for a dime bag.
041987 C4 Convertible
1987 C4 Convertible. If I was waiting for an impromptu drug deal in the C3, I wouldn't have been surprised to find a brick of coke in the C4's glove box. The blood-red interior smacks (and squeaks and rattles) of '80s-era decadence, with a healthy helping of KITT-wannabe thrown in. Despite the same size engine, the C4 makes 15 HP less than its predecessor, and it drives like a low-riding truck, with a wave of torque down low and a lack of thrust up high. But at least the digital gauges are retro-cool.
052001 C5 Z06
2001 C5 Z06. I'll call it right now. After the C2, this is the Corvette that I want. A small block up front putting out 385 HP and enough grip to make you sick to your stomach with a grin on your face. Sure, the seats have about as much bolstering as a piece of plywood and the interior has the refinement of a midwestern Motel 6, but who cares when you can go this fast, this competently, for this little money? Find one on Craigslist now for the same price as well-equipped Ford Fiesta.
062013 C6
2013 C6. It's hard to understand how a car that was sold until 2013 could still be this much of a basket case. It's not just that the C6's interior was pulled from the GM parts bin or that the engine feels like it would be better suited to a tractor. It's how a car with this much pedigree, this much rabid devotion, still handles like a greased pig. I foolishly attempt a full-tilt drift through a roundabout and get met with understeer, then oversteer, then understeer, then... I quit. This is everything I loathe about the Corvette distilled onto four wheels.
