Experiencing the world through the eyes of Group B heroes – DirtFish

The power delivery is excellent considering its engine size and overall output, with not a hint of unmanageable lag unless in completely the wrong gear. The drivetrain was in no way intrusive, only adding the benefit of impressive grip on corner exit, with absolutely zero negatives. It turned in perfectly, transitioned to power ideally, and allowed that addictive power to reach the ground with full effect. The layout did provide a hint of what was possible, with the potential for lift-off oversteer right there, and if in a more forgiving environment, would have been amazing to play with. But this was not that environment; the speeds were very high, and the grip available from the slicks and freshly resurfaced tarmac meant that the car would not be forgiving. It would have grip until it didn’t, and then when it came back… would be sudden.

Overall, it was the T16’s balance which proved why it was the best of the era. It is an amazing package, blending all of what makes for a great car into something which frankly felt modern, heck, better than modern. It was visceral, willing, a real race car with real potential, and despite my limited, cautious time behind the wheel, proved without a doubt why it was successful. The power was enthralling, the handling inch-perfect, the braking ability and flexibility matched the chassis beautifully. The T16 communicated perfectly what it was capable of delivering and provided assurance that, as long as I was smooth, it wasn’t going to bite. It was that good.

My favorite section of Sonoma for this car (and heck, the track itself), was turns two through four, consisting of off-camber corners, blind crests and severe elevation changes. This area is extremely unnerving to the uninitiated, and forces a driver to commit to their line, with no possibility of knowing what’s on the other side of the roller coaster crests. What made the T16 so enjoyable here was its stability in nearly weightless moments, yet there was confidence that it was also eager to change direction, should circumstances require it. It was thoroughly planted, but even minor throttle adjustments could change the trajectory in a predictable manner. The section ends with a steep downhill straight into an off camber right hand corner, where the tantalizing possibility of big slides were just within reach, had I lost my sense of reason. Even still, the T16’s willingness to slide presented itself in a nice rotation, which was easily controlled with throttle and the manic grip of the all-wheel-drive system. The giddy laugh the slide produced was my brain’s relief of managing an unexpected slide, but also the sheer elation at discovering the true sense of the car. It wanted to go, and it wasn’t going to hurt you.

Soon enough, the checkered flag waved, and reality beckoned. My time enjoying the otherworldly experience was over, it was time to return to Earth. Exiting the track towards our paddock, the immensity of what happened began to sink in. To those outside of the rally bubble, I had pointlessly driven in circles inside super-heated, forty-year-old deathtraps with zero creature comforts. The benefits questionable, the consequences immense.

But in my skewed perspective, I had walked in my heroes’ shoes and glimpsed with my whole body what their experiences were like. I had driven two vehicles which I never thought I’d see in person, let alone drive. And they were incredible. Each remarkable in their different solutions to the same problem, and each delivering the firm impression that they were built with a purpose, and it was to be the best, to be a world champion.