Autoblog

Click image for high-res gallery of the '07 Mustang GT

Sometimes, things just work out. The Memorial Day weekend weather forecast called for hot, sunny conditions -- perfect for the unofficial official kickoff to summer. Backyard parties would be devoid of no-shows and parade routes were assured to be standing-room-only. It was going to be a good weekend anyway, and Ford made it even better by entrusting yours truly with keys to an '07 Mustang GT for the duration. The big holiday weekend would be spent with a big, brassy muscle car sitting outside as driveway candy. And oh, what sweet, sweet candy... nostalgic styling covered in a Grabber Orange finish, a thundering V8, and a top that tucks behind the back seats, all to better appreciate the wicked roar coming from the stainless steel pipes in back. The whole thing is glorious Americana. For Memorial Day weekend, one couldn't ask for anything better.

This isn't the first Mustang GT we've reviewed here, so I'll keep my impressions short and to the point. The retro styling is great. It pushes emotional buttons and it fits this car perfectly. The interior is spiffy-looking too, with a throwback look to the IP that's in keeping with the exterior, and the unique-to-Mustang steering wheel that helps tie it all together. Yes, there are some El Chintzo plastics in play here, but they're generally out of sight or otherwise unobtruisive (lower door panels, speaker grills that would look more at home in a Jeep Wrangler, etc). The loaner had a premium package that wrapped the dash hood in a stitched hide and the contrasting, metal-look trim was patterned to simulate either turned aluminum or carbon fiber (flip a coin). Either way, it actually worked well, visually. The booming Shaker 500 audio system featured Sirius radio and used basic, straightforward controls -- no foofy nav screen here -- all the better, since you don't want to be actively futzing with a touchscreen while piloting the GT. Truth be told, keeping the sound system off may be a better bet anyhow, because it's easier to enjoy the 'Stang's exhaust sounds that way. Underpasses beg for a blip of the throttle, and parking garages are instantly transformed into a Carnegie Hall of V8 clamor.

The 300-horse 4.6L V8 offers excellent, immediate power, which is seamlessly channeled rearward via the car's 5-speed manual. The car takes a little getting used to for newcomers (like me). If you're not accustomed to the live rear axle, it's best to spend some time getting acclimated to it. Expansion joints and other large road imperfections can add a slight element of adventure to the ride if you're not prepared. It's like anything else, respect the car, learn it, and it won't give you any fuss. Highway merging and passing are mere afterthoughts, as the 'Stang's got more than ample juice to handle these tasks effortlessly, and the car will cruise at highway speed while pulling down around 20 mpg. Not bad. There's no wind deflector, but buffeting seemed entirely manageable. (Then again, my short hair isn't easily mussed.) Local, low-speed driving's a blast too, as even the most mundane tasks (a trip to the supermarket, for example) are transformed to impromptu cruise nights.



I'd have been content to simply enjoy a weekend of open-air motoring with the Mustang, but the town of Trumbull, CT had issued a call for convertibles to participate in its annual Memorial Day parade. I volunteered the 'Stang and was told where and when to be prior to the parade's kickoff. When Monday arrived, I motored on over to to the local restaurant whose parking lot served as the parade's staging area. Being new to this kind of thing, I wasn't quite sure what to expect, though the mob scene I came upon wasn't exactly surprising, either. A parade looks very organized when the participants are lined up and marching/driving by. Until folks start heading onto the route, however, it's a portrait of organized chaos.

The parking lot was jammed with people, their parked cars, and an eclectic bunch of vehicles that would be driving in the parade. On one side, a semi trailer loaded with bales of hay was home to several of the local little league teams. There was also the obligatory contingent of Shriners, little red replicars at the ready. The Shriners' lead vehicle, a VW Thing done up in red, white and blue, sat idling nearby. Everywhere you looked, there was some manner of vehicle taking on passengers. Fire/Emergency trucks lined a nearby side street, and a pair of Humvees ducked in, then out, looking for a place to park and waiting for the festivities to kick off.

A brace of convertibles had shown up ready to take part in the parade. In addition to "my" GT, I counted a pair of classic Mustangs, a pair of Eldorados, a K-car LeBaron, a VW Bug, a big 'ol Ford LTD, an Olds Cutlass, and a beautiful flag-festooned Model A, among other things. The idea was for us to all line up, take on vets, and hit the route. We were split into two groups in the staging area, and after a short wait, the first set of cars and passengers rolled out.

Meanwhile, the group I was in waited. Our cars were still empty, you see. One of the other drivers and I walked across the lot looking for guidance. After asking one of the vets helping get things organized what to do, we were told to pull into the parade line, as we'd be able to take on passengers at one of the first corners along the route. I jogged back to the Mustang and eased it behind the local American Legion marchers. One of them ambled over to check out the 'Stang, complimenting its looks and giving the car an approving smile before he walked back to the fellas from the post. In the meantime, the aforementioned Model A had taken up position behind me. Being a Ford guy (obviously), its owner was also interested in the GT, and we chewed the fat about our two cars for a couple of minutes until one of the men from the Legion gave a wave. Time to go.

I fired up the 'Stang, and other marchers walking to their places smiled or gave the 'thumbs up" sign as it roared to life. Behind me, the Model A's owner responded by giving his car a rev and blasting its old-fashioned ''aaah-OOH-gah!" horn. Rumbling along, the orange Mustang was grabbing all kinds of attention. Even the district's State Senator smiled and waved his approval as it trundled by. As we passed through the first intersection, one thing became obvious: no passengers were waiting to jump into my car or the one behind me. We were now just part of the parade.



If you've never participated in something like this, do so if you're given the opportunity. It's a lot of fun. The veterans marching directly in front of me were treated like rock stars, garnering loud cheers and standing ovations from the crowd as they passed. They were all smiles as they waved back and acknowledged the spectators lining the thoroughfare. The gentleman bringing up the rear seemed to know everyone in town, bantering with the folks and enthusiastically waving to everyone he made eye contact with. Not long into the parade, the American Legion marchers stopped and gathered around one of their members. The temperature was up around 90 degrees, and one of the men had apparently started to feel the heat in earnest. Someone motioned for me to pull up, and he climbed into the passenger seat for a spell. After a quick introduction, I put the car back in gear and was back underway with my new companion, a local Korean War veteran. We rode together for a bit, and he waved to the cheering crowd from the passenger seat. After a few minutes, he was reinvigorated and decided to jump out and rejoin his comrades in front of us.



From there on in, I rode solo, shadowing the Legion from a few feet behind. As it turns out, the Mustang itself was a big hit. "Nice car!" was a frequent refrain, and predictably, more than a few disembodied cries of "Light 'em up'" wafted over the curbside. Age seemed not to be a factor, either, as the compliments were just as likely to come from kids as they were from moms and dads. I chuckled at one point when I overheard a father explaining to his elementary-school-aged son, "See that? That's daddy's midlife crisis right there, kiddo."

Things were proceeding nicely when one of the men from the Legion again signaled for me to stop. He smiled and pointed behind me, and when I turned around, a pair of A-10 Thunderbolt IIs came streaking down the parade route, practically buzzing utility poles, waggling their wings for the delighted crowd. It was a goosebump-inducing moment -- one that repeated itself a few more times as the mean-looking jets circled around and back, putting on quite a show for all of us earthbound.



Shortly thereafter, we reached the end of the route, and just like that, it was over. I said goodbye to some of the people I had met earlier in the staging area who were now congregated at the finish, jumped back in the car, and headed towards home. The parade was a wonderful experience. The veterans I met were charming, and the reaction they got from the people gathered to see them was inspiring. My daughter (she's four) came up to me afterwards and told me, "Daddy, when the veterans went by, I did this," and she brought her little hand up in a salute. "It's called a salute." (It came out as "sa-woot.") "I saluted them," she said, beaming.

As did we all.






All Photos Copyright ©2007 Alex Núñez / Weblogs, Inc.