#the other they completely changed the packing and sticker part so its near impossible to remove the packaging without

[bloodmoonlich]

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[joshslater]

Bulk Bucket

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"Time's up, Parker" Ronan Parker felt a firm grip on his arm from someone who had walked up behind him and was now steering him. It was Seth Dale from the football team, though Ronan could never remember what position he played. Sport wasn't a big part of his life, and while he knew most of the players, it was mostly to keep up with the latest gossip. He had been big before the summer, but now he was huge. What had he been up to?

"Good news, Parker. We are going to help each other out." Ronan looked to his other side and saw Nigel Wilkinson, running back on the team. He too was way bigger than before. Had they been working out together over the summer? "Yeah," Seth continued, "we asked around, and everyone agreed we wanted you."

They flanked him on either side and walked him around the corner, away from the library he was heading to. "Christina started to call Brennan by the name you came up with, Brawnan. He really wanted you to help us out" Ronan felt a pit in his guts. Wherever this march ended, it would be payback time. Not being athletic enough for any of the teams, or had enough patience to really shine academically, he'd used his street smarts and social skills to be an authoritative voice on who was cool and who was a joke in the school. The jocks had decidedly been on his shit-list. Not because he really disliked them, he didn't know them, but because it was easy to come up with jokes and every other guy, and many of the girls, would happily join in for their own reasons. Some were envious, some rejected the patriarchal idolization, and some were just getting even after years of getting bullied. But now the tax was due.

Ronan didn't even try to resist. Outrun the running back? Even shake out of Seth's grip would be a feat. They exited the main building and walked towards the sports center. Ronan went through hazings he could recall and started to put them in order of suck. Tied to the flag pole would be preferable to being suspended and used as a punching bag. What about stuffed in a locker with smelly training gear? Probably depends on what gear and the size of the locker. He wasn't that big, so he could fit in all the new ones. "You're awfully silent all of a sudden," Nigel said as we crossed the concrete square outside the main building. "You don't have a new joke for us? The one about beef broth was hilarious to some." Ronan remained silent, thinking that was probably the sane thing to do. "Hey, what about the meatloaf one? People used it for weeks," Seth chipped in.

Nigel opened the doors for them, all the way to their locker room. Inside it was the entire team waiting. The moment they entered the happy banter instantly died down to silence as they walked into the room. Ronan got a shock seeing them. He recognized them all, of course, but the muscles they all packed on during the summer was unreal. Impossible even. The room was quite big, but somehow it felt very cramped with a whole football team's worth of large bodies around him. All had gym clothes on, of more or less revealing kinds. The air was damp and there was a smell of sweat and testosterone in the air. All eyes were on him, but he couldn't make out their expressions. It ranged anywhere from triumphant to muted. Jonathan walked up to Nigel with a protein drink shaker. "All there, freshly squeezed" The shaker was milky white plastic, almost opaque, with a dark, green-tinted liquid inside. Nigel gave it a few shakes. It looked to be about two cups of something sloshing around in it.

"Ok, anyone not ready?" Seth asked the room. There was a second of silence. "Let's begin then." Nigel handed over the shaker to Ronan. "Drink up, funny boy". Ronan's mind was racing. What was in the shaker? Were they trying to get him drunk, or to shit himself? He knew one thing, it would be pointless to struggle surrounded by what looked like a spartan army. Hesitantly he opened the cap, put the opening to his lips, and began to sample its contents. It was sour, it was bitter, it was salty, it was sweet, but more than anything it tested of herbs. Like someone had made a herbal smoothie with whatever they found in their garden, plus lime. "Hurry up, all of it" The liquid wasn't as thick as a smoothie, but it wasn't just water either. Ronan emptied the shaker faster, shaking out the last drops at the end as a pretend front of courage. Almost immediately a loud groan came from his intestines. Then another one. "What's that? I didn't really hear you," Seth joked, and got a murmur of laughter from the team.

Ronan felt clammy and sweaty, like the first signs of food poisoning. Apparently it showed as well, as Seth continued "Not feeling well, you say? You should take a seat." Ronan was showed down unto one of the benches by several hands. He was feeling dizzy. "It's working. Get the stone" someone said. From behind someone tied a leather strap with a stone pendant around his neck. Ronan just wanted to take a hot shower, maybe throw up, and go to bed. Sitting down they all looked even more imposing, looking down on him.

"How long until he's ready?" ask someone Ronan maybe recognized as Harry. It was hard to tell with their new bodies. "The fuck do I know, " Nigel responded. "It's not like we've done this before. Let's give it time to make sure it is fully absorbed. We have all afternoon after all."

"Let's show him what we got," Seth said to Nigel. Ronan still felt like shit, but it was kind of stabilizing. He watched as Seth and Nigel removed their shirts to show off their impossibly well-sculpted bodies. They had been regular jocks as they left for summer break, muscled for sure, but no where near this. "Ok, story time while we wait," Nigel started. "So this year the team had its summer camp over at the reservation. Pretty much the same as every year. Even if the location is different, there are the fires, the tents, outdoor sports and such. It's just that one evening one old indian dude showed up. He wasn't part of the organizers, cause we hadn't seen us before or since, but he talked about how you could channel the spirits around us. Nice camp fire story, but not much more to it. Not until a few nights later when a few of us got high and saw... Well, we realized some shit that turned out to actually work. Being a team we all did it, and perhaps a bit too much, since we ended up like this."

"The coach was fucking furious," Seth jumped in. "Turns out we got a bit greedy on strength and got way more pounds to haul across the field than we can win with, so we need to make some adjustments," Nigel concluded. Ronan started to get the picture, though wasn't sure what it would mean for him. Seth continued "We can't just give all of this back. It doesn't work like that, so we were all in agreement that the best bulk bucket to dump all the excess muscle on is you. The way you've run your fucking mouth off all last year, it sounded like a cry for help."

"Fuck it, let's do it now, " Nigel interrupted. He grabbed a wooden stick with both hands, and held it out in front of him. He closed his eyes and appeared to concentrate on something. Ronan could feel the heat building in his legs, and then tiny vibrations, like when you are pushing yourself to your limit and the muscle is about to fail of exhaustion. Then it spread upwards in his body, the heat, the vibrations, and followed by spasms. Nigel stood completely still, eyes closed, and concentrated. Then Ronan saw how Nigel slowly started to shrink. Slowly and subtly, but he was changing. From what he had been told Ronan assumed the opposite was happening to him, but he couldn't really focus enough to register that. His entire body was just a blur of vibrations, heat, and discomfort.

Then it all stopped, almost instantly. Nigel opened his eyes and inspected himself. He still looked amazing, but more appropriate for a football player his age. "Fuck yeah!" Seth exclaimed, and the entire room erupted in cheers and high fives.

"One down and the rest to go. You'll probably feel like shit until everyone who jizzed in your potion is done," Nigel told Ronan, while handing over the stick to Seth.

Ronan was wide awake and was greeted by staring into a pair of pecs as he opened his eyes. It hadn't been a bad dream after all. He really had been in that locker room for hours, getting more and more pumped with muscles as one after the other of the team grabbed the stick and spent some five, ten minutes on transferring muscles over to him. He had felt less and less sick as they progressed, but his heart sunk lower and lower by what was happening to his body. After about a quarter of them he needed to get out of his clothes. His feet hurt the most, but fabric was straining everywhere. He realized he was as buff as any of them, and by the half point he was confident he could kick the shit out of any of them, but to what end? If he ran away they would just continue anyway. Perhaps the pendant was needed, and he could rip that off, but just as Nigel said he was feeling like shit. So he stayed and went from his thin, normal self, through athletic, jock, muscular, swole, to whatever bodybuilding monstrosity he was now.

He didn't cry, that's not the kind of person he was, but he felt like he should as the now recognizable players went through his greatest hits of jock insults, and a whole list of new ones like meatpacker, swole sink, and hunkty dumpty. Harry had brought a roll of stickers from a supermarket saying "USDA Prime" and put one on his chest. After he had removed it he got another one stuck on his back, and to everyone's great amusement he couldn't reach that far back with all his new muscles. Someone had brought some clothes he could actually fit in. A pair of well worn, bulky sneakers, a pair of spandex shorts, and a stringer with the print "Size Matters", all raided from the lost and found at local gyms apparently.

A lot of the players had left after they had adjusted themselves, and the last few of them left just after having thrown the clothes at him. Ronan sat in shock and disbelief for a long while before he got up and put on the scant pieces of clothing, gathered his belongings, and started to head home. He felt off, but wasn't sure how much was residual of the tonic he drank and what was just his new normal. The way his thighs made him waddle and his chest and arm muscles made the arms stand out wouldn't go away just with a night of good sleep.

[sanshineaus]

your home

JUNG YOONOH / JAEHYUN X READER

warnings: there’s a verbal fight (kind of?) and an unclear mending of a relationship

type: drabble!

word count: 2996

a/n: thank you for your compliments love ):<3 but also sorry for this being so late, i’ve had a spell of watching the untamed/cql and i completely forgot to finish this

music recommendation: can you see my heart and wu ji even though neither fit lyrically, the melodies influenced me a lot

The light of your porch poorly illuminated the piece of paper in your hand, and you shivered despite the warmth of the evening.

It seems so trivial— a simple piece of paper. Simple, so simple that the black and white muddle together as you feel yourself tearing up. You still hold it far away from you, and your tears fall into your lap instead, but the blue lines of your signature at the bottom similarly blur in front of you until you can’t recognize that this is your handwriting.

Your company was incredibly generous after only five years of you working there. You did your best, of course, but you didn’t expect it to be paid back in the manner that it was; a raise that was the subsequence of a promotion. You were so excited to sign the contract and to finally get the coveted position, except you overlooked the fact that they now had the full right to change your station of work.

And that was exactly what they did.

Taking into account that you were young and skilled, and good at the language, your company offered a plane ticket and an address— as well as the option to pack within a week. ���It’s a short time to bid farewell,’ they said, ‘but we expect it not to be too much of a problem.’

Business and family were not very good friends, you decided in that moment.

The drive back  to your home could very well be described as dangerous. You were a cautious driver, of course, though you struggled to focus your thoughts on anything but how you’ll tell your family that you were moving abroad at such short term notice. How to tell your friends that you would have to cancel your night out next week, too. But most of all, how to tell him.

Yoonoh and you have been dating for as long as you care to remember freshman year of college. He was in so many of your classes that it was simply impossible not to notice the dimple clad boy. He had more of a baby face back then, eighteen and eager to be part of the frathouse with a terrible composition of greek letters. It was easy to get lost in his flirting and niceties, and yet Yoonoh wasn’t like the other frat members.

His ways were more pure, and you’re pretty sure he kept track of when the two of you met up and for what. He enjoyed your company, and you enjoyed his, and eventually this enjoyment grew into a relationship by the end of second semester. You could distinctly remember that he brought you yogurt cups during finals to make sure you are something, and you similarly tried to get him granola bars whenever you were free.

Upon finishing college, you moved in together. Yoonoh struggled to get a job for a while, though you were both ecstatic when he got into his desired field and got the opportunity to do exactly what he loved. He grew pride for you as you did for him, and each day was better than the last. You simply understood each other through everything that happened to you.

And now you’d have to break to him that in a week, you’d be moving away from everyone, from him, and from your quaint little house.

You shivered again, and you realized that it was because of how truly distressed this made you. You didn’t want to leave Yoonoh, but you also didn’t want to leave your career. You argued many times with yourself that you’d love to move one day, but you didn’t expect it to be so soon, or without him for that matter.

You knew you could carry yourself well without him— you were your own person, after all— but the thought of him being so far away from you made bile rise in your throat. Maybe he’d move with you? Despite your company offering a one person apartment, you’d be more than willing to live with him in any small space, and search for other places. You needed to talk to him though, something which required a lot of mental fortitude.

You knew Yoonoh was inside and cooking you dinner. Your shift was a twelve hour one, and he’s been home for more than four hours now. You also knew he most likely heard you in the driveway, and you knew that he was waiting. He’d know you were upset, because it wasn’t like you do not go inside immediately unless you had a bad day or were energetic enough to tend to your garden. He could probably deduce it was the former since your shifts weren’t usually half a day long, though, and you’d be knackered by hour nine.

When you stood up, a light breeze lulled your dizzy headed self to the wooden pillar by you first. You neatly returned the paper you held into a folder you carried with you (with stickers he bought for you, something that usually made you happy but now seemed to serve the purpose of reminding you you’ll have to leave him).

Closing your eyes, you didn’t let your mind run through possible scenarios of how you’d tell him, instead clouding over with the image of Yoonoh’s hurt face, pursed lips, and offended eyes. Malaise settled in the depth of your stomach, and you used your sleeve to tap away your tears. It didn’t matter, though; your eyes were already red, and filling up again.

You moved towards the door so slowly you thought of yourself as more fitting of a zombie than a person. Turning the doorknob suddenly felt as if you were touching the surface of the sun, and a similarly unpleasant warmth spread all throughout your body. You felt feverish with anticipation, and once you finally were inside you busied yourself with taking off your shoes slowly, glancing up towards the kitchen every once in a while.

As expected, he was there, removing the pan you two used for everything from the stove and dividing it evenly into two plates. Your chest was hollow, suddenly, all words lost as you stared at him from the doorway, carefully tending to garnishing your dish even though you’ve told him so many times he doesn’t have to. Yoonoh looked perfect simply standing there, focused, and you contemplated if you really should go through with your promotion after all— or should you even tell him? You could keep it from him and quit, but then you’d hurt him even more by lying and losing your income.

You sighed before you walked in, the way his face lit up upon seeing you effectively stabbing you right in the heart. He wiped his hand on his apron, adorned with silly ducks and a house warming gift from one of your friends, before he approached you. You didn’t let him hug you, however, placing your hand on his chest while your other gripped onto the cursed folder within which were the documents that bound you to the company.

He seemed shocked before he seemed hurt.

You worldlessly handed him the folder, moving past him to sit down on the chairs by the isle, leaning onto the counter with a finger to your temple, rubbing down in an attempt to soothe yourself. When you looked back at him at last, he was already turned towards you. Even though you weren’t next to him, you could tell that he was shaking, his eyes filling with tears as he held onto the paper you did the same to.

“When?”

His voice betrayed him, shaking. He sounded unstable and upset, and you didn’t blame him in the slightest. You took a deep breath, “The promotion? Today. The move… on Wednesday, next week.” You wavered slightly, voice quieting down. He nodded, a pained smile spreading onto his lips, the tears finally slipping down his cheeks. You stood up, nearing him again, but when you reached up to try and cup his cheek he simply moved away.

“You should pack,” he said it in such a tone that you can feel the ice of his words freeze over the blood in your veins, “you should really pack.”

You grabbed his wrist instead, just as he’s about to lift his hand to close the folder. Yoonoh’s never been a violent guy— he’s never done anything rash or moved in a harsh way— but he tore his hand from your grasp, moving further away from you. He didn’t waver again, extending the folder to you.

“Go.”

You took the folder, gripping it to your chest and getting closer once more, “Yoonoh-“ “No.” he sounded mad, cold and he begun driving a rift between you. You opened your mouth again, but he simply turned away from you and began walking towards the living room opposite the dining area. You followed closely behind, calling his name once more, and although you didn’t expect him to react and were about to plead for him to listen, he turned back sharply with narrowed eyes.

“I don’t want to hear it, actually. You know it’s not easy for me to go with you, and it’s not easy for me to see you go either,” he sounded venomous, hurt. Your resolve cracks at its edges and the folder is discarded on top of your shoe stand.

“I don’t want to quit, Yoonoh-“ but he interrupted you again, “I know, (Y/N). I’m painfully aware you’re not going to quit, and I know I won’t let you do it anyway. But I’m not going to watch you leave me just like this, and I know you’ll try to convince me to come with you. You know I can’t.”

“And why not?” you hissed, eyes welling up yet again, “You know you could! You’d just have to-“

“Quit, leave all our friends and our family, settle with you and try to look for another job.” He harshly whispered before laughing humorlessly, “You know I won’t do that. I love my job, and I love you but I also love being here, and I don’t want to leave.”

You crossed your arms, the sense of pressure rushing all the way from your toes to the very top of your head, and the ache spreading through your body hurts in a much different way, “So you’re scared of change?”

This seemed to tip him over, and the tears on his cheeks raced down faster, a shuddering breath reaching your ears, “I think it’s best you leave. I really do.”

He turned away from you, closing the door to the living room and accompanying it with the click of the key inside the lock. It all suddenly rushed forward, and you felt yourself collapse emotionally, your sleeve failing to catch the stray tears as you rushed up the stairs.

You packed it all; your clothes, your special products, your pictures, devices and everything you had. It was a sad sight to see that two suitcases were all of your belongings for the past couple years, but you nonetheless rush them down while dialing the only person you know would be willing to help; Doyoung.

You opted not to drive in your confusion, rage and sadness, instead calling him to come pick you up. Your friend was sensible enough, obviously, though the concerned expression he donned and the same he pointed towards your front door told you that he was going to ask questions, and invest himself in this. Yoonoh and him were better friends, you knew this, though Doyoung was very much the type of person to judge someone based on information rather than relation, for which you were very grateful.

The ride to his place was mostly quiet, save for him insisting you can stay the whole week at his place and you claiming that a hotel would be fine. He didn’t let you go through with it, though, and even brought your luggage up to his guest room. His mother looked at you with so much sympathy— Miss Kim even hugged you tightly, enough to make you burst out into more tears— and Doyoung’s father chimed in with his own support, letting you know you’re always welcome.

The week was spent saying goodbye to your family members first, then the friends who you also had to apologize to, save for Doyoung. He made sure to help you with shopping for the trip itself as well, and even looked up the address your company gave and did the necessary research on the building while you worked and prepared.

Doyoung’s mum was even polite enough to go get your car from your (or Yoonoh’s, you weren’t sure quite yet) house, and his dad helped set up ads for the car to be sold. He also cheekily mentioned he would buy it off of you had he known how to drive your car specifically, to which you seriously offered to teach him how to use an automatic.

You were reading up on a tourist guide the night before your flight, when the door to Doyoung’s room opened slowly. Miss Kim carried a tray of fruit, and an expression of pure concern donned onto her aging face. You sat up properly in the computer chair, and she set the plates on the desk before taking a deep breath.

“Someone’s here to see you.”

Even though she didn’t explicitly state who, you knew. You knew Yoonoh was there, and it was excitement which bled into you first, closely followed by embarrassment. This was your friend’s house, where his parents lived no less, and yet your boyfriend (or was it now ex? You hoped not) showed up to see you, most likely talk to you as well. You had to compose yourself first before you nodded, following Miss Kim downstairs.

And really, there he was, again, though he seemed somehow paler. You had to gulp down your nervousness as you descended, whispering to him in passing that you want to take this outside. The Kims’ property was very large, intricately fenced, and you had no fear of the neighbours being snoopy here. Yoonoh, on the other hand, made you incredibly fearful, for whatever his words would be.

He avoided your gaze at first, though you uttered a ‘well?’ to get his attention, which made him regard you with shock, as if you broke him out of a reverie.

“I, uh…” he struggled, wringing his hands within one another before cracking his knuckles. You knew that he was nervous now, certainly.

“I’m sorry,” Yoonoh began with caution, “I shouldn’t have kicked you out. I shouldn’t even have acted like that. I-I��� I wanted to wish you a safe trip,” his gaze fell onto the soft grass of the front yard of the Kims’ house, but you knew that if he were to look at you he’d want to say something else. You just had no idea what.

You reached up to cup his cheek, to which he responded by leaning his head into your palm, making you chuckle. “What do you want to tell me, sweet boy?” you tilted your own head, your eyes betraying that you were both upset and still very much in love with the man in front of you.

He snapped up as if he got bitten all of a sudden, settling on watching you. It took Yoonoh time, you knew this, and so you stayed calm, thumb slowly massaging the skin of his face. The silence was heavy, and yet somehow more comforting, warm. You posed that it could be because of how long it seemed since you last saw him, the trick of time making it feel as if it’s been more than just six days.

Yoonoh chuckled suddenly, bringing you back to the real life as he gripped your hand with his, indicating that he was ready; “I won’t move with you. I’m staying here. But I want this to work— I can’t without us. Even if it’s distance.”

You blinked once, twice, before you felt tears sting at your eyes and leave just as soon as they came. It felt as if he was confessing once again, like you were freshmen and he was just your friend who you liked a lot, and who you knew you’d end up loving. The warmth of the evening was equally reminiscent to the warmth of that evening, sitting together at a pathetic excuse of a beach bonfire party, and far away from the world. He was the only person you could see right now, and you wanted it to stay this way, maybe even forever.

Your breath hitched, and you nodded, before he took the initiative to hug you tightly. Whispered ‘I missed you’s and proclamations of love were exchanged, and yet again you felt yourself shedding way too many tears, staining your cheeks.

You stand at the airport, very familiar luggage in hand. None of your family was available today, which Mr. Kim found outrageous enough to make an entourage of his own, inviting your friends and of course himself and his wife, as well as Doyoung. You hug each and every one of the people in the party (though it takes a bit to separate from a sniffling Donghyuck who promises to sneak onto the flight in case you’re lonely). Until you reach Yoonoh.

You smile at him, which he reciprocates with a bit of an unsure but delightfully dimpled one of his own. He takes your hand first, and whispers in your ear while everyone else observes, and then he moulds his lips against your forehead, wishing you a safe flight.

You depart with joy on your face, but sorrow in your stomach. You wave, and wave, until you have to board and leave.

And when you’re on the plane, finally taking off, Yoonoh’s words ring in your mind once again.

‘I’ll see you next month, my darling.’

[dipulb3]

2020 Acura NSX review: The softer side of supercars

New Post has been published on https://appradab.com/2020-acura-nsx-review-the-softer-side-of-supercars/

2020 Acura NSX review: The softer side of supercars

It’s a wide boi.

Andrew Krok/Roadshow

Supercars are supposed to miss the forest for the trees. These ragged-edge cars focus so intently on high-speed performance and high-cost trimmings that they’re often tough to truly utilize on a daily basis, relegating them to weekend warriors at best. But not the 2020 Acura NSX. This Japanese scalpel is more than ready to rumble on a backroad, but it carries a softness that gives the car more than enough pliancy to make for a quality grocery-getter, albeit one that’s a bit over equipped for the task.

Like

Ever-present hybrid power

Impressive in daily driving

Never stops being fun

Don’t Like

Mediocre infotainment

Persistent windshield reflections

No Individual mode

Before I even get behind the wheel of the 2020 Acura NSX, I’m hit with that familiar kind of supercar weird-for-the-sake-of-being-weird-ness. On approach, the thin door handles pop out to greet me, which is a fun parlor trick. Thankfully, the doors open in the normal direction, as the NSX has absolutely no problem turning heads without bringing atypical hinges and butterfly doors into the equation.

With interesting angles in every direction, from flying buttresses out back to the aggressive front bumper, the NSX is like most other supercars in that it’s damn near impossible to blend in anywhere. Even beyond the show-off styling, my tester’s $6,000 Valencia Red Pearl paint job isn’t about to let that happen.

First impressions come quickly after sliding past the NSX’s door. Despite the body’s relative position to terra firma, the seating position is a little higher than I expect, giving me a greater feeling of normalcy than I encounter in, say, a McLaren or a Lamborghini. Visibility is quite good in most directions, with loads of forward sight (thanks in part to way-thin A-pillars) and superb blind-spot coverage from the mirrors that sprout from the body like antennae. The view out back is fine, considering there’s an engine a few inches behind me. Be mindful of the sun’s position, though: Too many direct rays from ol’ Sol and the front windshield begins to resemble a cheese grater thanks to serious reflections of the massive speaker grille below. It can be really annoying, especially in spirited driving or slow-speed neighborhoods where children and squirrels are likely to be in the street.

Overall, the NSX’s interior quality feels worth the $150,000+ cost of admission. Soft leather covers most of the dashboard, door panels, center tunnel and steering wheel, and what isn’t made from the smooth stuff is bedecked in carbon fiber (a $2,500 option) and satin aluminum. The small bit of piano black trim on the transmission controls, which should be very familiar to most recent Honda or Acura owners, is the only part of the interior that feels a little low-rent, and only then it’s because of its propensity to accumulate finger grime. The cup holders are small and only attach to a slot on the center console, but you can tuck them into the diminutive glove compartment when not in use. Other storage comes by way of wallet-sized slots in the door panels, a key- (and mask-) sized slot in the center console and a small hinged cubby against the rear firewall that houses the USB port. It’s tight, like many supercars, but there’s still a decent amount of room for my 6-foot frame to get comfortable.

Most mid-engined supercars throw owners a storage bone by way of front and rear trunks. But not the NSX — electric motors and other hardware live under the hood, so the only cargo storage is located aft of the engine. Not only is the trunk small, its proximity to the twin-turbo V6 means whatever goes back there has to be heat-tolerant. Put your bags of ice in the passenger-side footwell.

All of those silly concerns melt away from the second I push the start button. Just behind my head, the 3.5-liter, twin-turbocharged V6 growls itself awake before quickly settling into a quieter idle, something neighbors are bound to appreciate. A push of the Drive button puts the nine-speed dual-clutch transmission to work, which provides just a smidgeon of slip as first gear engages.

In the default Sport mode, the NSX proves to me that it can absolutely function as a daily driver. Despite lacking air or McLaren’s complicated hydraulics, the NSX’s static suspension is surprisingly comfortable, soaking up a wide variety of bumps and humps without unsettling the car or its occupants. The chassis’ inherent stiffness remains obvious, but the ride is far smoother than I went in expecting.

Small issues with the cabin disappear completely once the speedometer starts to rise.

Andrew Krok/Roadshow

Gear shifts are unobtrusive, and in low-rev situations, the V6 (which produces 500 horsepower and 406 pound-feet of torque on its own) is content to putter along quietly — if it’s even running at all. In Quiet mode, the NSX will use its small battery to operate like any other hybrid, silently hustling along under electric power alone — Sport offers electric-only operation, too, but in more limited quantities. The V6 cuts in and out with little, if any jostling in the cabin. It’s Prius smooth, in a good way.

Twist the mode knob to Sport Plus, and the NSX emits some sort of magic substance that causes me to forget about literally anything that isn’t the car or the road directly ahead of it. I feel the frenetic energy start to rise as the engine dramatically increases its volume at all times, even though it’s a little meh on the tonal front at lower revs. The V6 calls on the help of three electric motors — two up front, one out back — to generate a net 573 hp and 476 lb-ft. As you’d expect, the electric motors absolutely assault me with torque at a moment’s notice, and it’s really evident in tight corners, where the front axle helps pull me through as Continental SportContact performance tires grip the pavement. It’s easy to approach a corner with more speed than expected, but thankfully, it’s also easy to shuffle out the other side. Between those points, optional carbon-ceramic rotors ($10,600!) will scrub speed with both excellent modulation and impressive haste, over and over again. It’s impossible not to have fun in the 2020 NSX.

My only real gripe here is that I wish I could mix and match the modes. I get it, Acura put these modes together to make sure the car exemplifies whatever it’s after, but if I really wanted to daily drive this car, I’d want the engine constantly in Sport Plus with the suspension in Quiet. Why the hell can’t I have that?

You never really hear the NSX’s turbochargers spool up until you really glom on the throttle, then it’s all you’ll hear.

Andrew Krok/Roadshow

One thing that Acura has in common with every other supercar manufacturer is its middling-at-best infotainment system. Ripped straight from, oh, every single Honda Civic on the dealership lot, the NSX’s 7-inch head unit packs suction-cupped-Garmin-era graphics, just-OK response time and limited functionality. Apple CarPlay and Android Auto are on offer, which means it’s pretty easy to ignore the standard setup altogether. The motif changes from red to blue depending on vehicle mode, but I kind of wish Acura could have put its own unique spin on this — or at least upgraded the 2020 NSX to the most recent (and prettier) version found on the Odyssey and other large adult Hondas. The gauge cluster is entirely digital, too, and while it’s weird that it’s tilted away from my eyes, it provides me with all the data I could possibly ask for. It’s easy to mess around with, too, thanks to super-simple scrollers on the steering wheel.

As for safety systems, you get… parking sensors. And non-adaptive cruise control. Want anything else? Buy a TLX.

With a starting price of $159,495 after destination, the 2020 Acura NSX is almost competing with two separate classes of high-performance vehicle. On the one side, you have the hardcore non-supercars like the Porsche 911 Turbo, the Mercedes-AMG GT R or, if you don’t need a six-figure window sticker, the mid-engined Chevrolet Corvette, all of which are excellent cars, but all of which lack the “What was that?” emotional appeal of proper supercars. Speaking of which, the NSX is positioned against some big names here, too, like the Audi R8 and, if you want to drop another $30k, the McLaren 570S. Those cars are more along the lines of the NSX, but they’re also a fair bit sharper than the Acura, too.

When a car is engineered with performance at the top of the masthead, comfort has to be put back ­­into it. Sometimes it requires complex components, other times it just doesn’t happen very well. But the 2020 Acura NSX does an excellent job blending daily usability and performance in a way that other supercars don’t. Does it leave a little bit of skidpad rating on the table? Sure. But I’ll be damned if you can find a more entertaining way to commute in comfort.

[muscledemandsrespect]

MY FASHIONMONITOR INTERVIEW: “WELLNESS TODAY”

I recently had the opportunity to share some thoughts with FashionMonitor.com for an interview ahead of a panel at the Festival of Marketing, on which I sat to discuss trends in the fitness industry. The interview caused me to think quite alot about several of the challenging topics posed to me. FashionMonitor presented a gently precised version of the interview HERE, but for those looking to explore the more complete answers I scribed, click MORE below to get my full thoughts on the trends shaping the industry at present and over the coming years, along with perceptions surrounding the influencer marketing world.

1.     What trends have you witnessed within fitness in the past few years?

I started working in the industry over ten years ago as a PT in a commercial gym, Esporta (which has long since been acquired by Virgin Active) and there have been many trends that have come and gone over the years. But to mention 5 more broad changes I see, it would be

i) PT as an occupation has gained mass popularity – social media has transformed and glamourised the job of working in fitness.

ii) ‘The gender swap’ – women train more like men and men train more like women.

iii) With mass popularity in social media and health there’s been a sort of ‘information overload’,

iv) This has sparked the growth and evolution of countless different flavours of ‘fitness communities’

and finally v) sports fashion ‘Athleisurewear’ has completely reinvented itself.

i) PT-ing ten years ago didn’t carry the same cache that the occupation enjoys now. Working in what certainly was a male dominated job was considered a bit more unusual. It wasn’t anywhere near as glamourized as it is today – Instagram as a fitness marketing tool for one didn’t exist. Today being a PT is associated with beach workouts, raw pressed juice on tap, and gorgeous bodies clad in expensive ‘athleisurewear’, not to mention crisp designer sneakers. For a lucky few this may be the case but more often than not this couldn’t be further from the truth, something I’ve written about on my blog. It’s a tough slog building a sustainable fitness business as a personal trainer!

ii)    ‘The gender swap’ may be a generalisation perhaps, but in my experience more often than not, it used to be the case that women would focus on cardiovascular training and men would focus on weight training. As a PT, trying to convince a woman to venture into the male dominated free weight area was not easy. There was the eternal fear of ‘getting bulky ‘. I remember distinctly walking into a weights area and being asked by a pretty stacked guy if I was lost. I think for women, encouraging weight training has been empowering, women feel bad ass and it has certainly introduced more fun, varied and effective training. For men, I see the change that it’s more acceptable and ‘mainstream’ to focus on mindfulness, yoga, meditation etc. So overall, men and women have merged somewhere in the middle.

iii)    ‘Information overload’ – with the explosion of fitness fashion, yoga and gym studios etc people through osmosis are more informed than before. There’s a real thirst for knowledge. People don’t just ask what they should train but also why. That’s something that rarely happened a few years ago. This has also brought with it MISinformation; the ubiquitous nature of advice is a potential danger to those who aren’t aware of the risks, and those ‘advisors’ operating without appropriate qualification can be easily elevated in this new social media world which introduces additional risk factors for people’s wellbeing and training regimes.

iv) You can find fitness communities everywhere today and brands recognise its power. As an example, today if you walk into a store, for example LuluLemon, you’re not just buying a pair of leggings, you’ve become part of a very large community. You’ll most likely be receiving newsletters not only promoting new products but you’ll find inspiring interviews, healthy recipes, invites to free yoga classes, workshops etc.

v) Athleisurewear – there has been an explosion of fitness apparel on the market. Large brands like Nike and Adidas are leading the way but I get several start up fitness brands reaching out on a weekly if not daily basis asking if I’d be interested in featuring their leggings.

2.     Which brands do you think are key disruptors right now?

My challenge in response would be ‘define ‘disruptor’. No fitness brands are doing to fitness what Uber did to transport on demand, nor really what Amazon has done to bricks and mortar retailing. They are however tapping into the trends I describe above; social media, community, innovation, gender stereotype developments in fitness.

bespoke tailoring is a thing. Adidas custom body scans, the speed factory that scans your foot and 3D prints a shoe that fits within the hour whilst you wait.

Conscious sustainable production. Small batch creations imbued with ethical values, like the Adidas Parley for the Oceans collaborations.

There have been a wave of new brands on the market over the last few years but Adidas and Nike are still the dominant players – it’s hard to see this model being disrupted, but rather, evolved….

3.     How do you see social media progressing in the future?

It’s an interesting question.

On the one hand people have become more mindful of how they use social media, perhaps more selective and time conscious (setting reminders etc), tuning out of content that imparts stress,

On the other hand brands are spending more money to work with influencers than ever before, as well as finding new and innovative ways of promoting themselves. There are constant trends coming and going. At the moment, I sense the trend is very much for a brand to be ‘passionate’ about something – whether it’s taking a stand for the climate, following in Greta Thunberg’s footsteps, or being a ‘conscious consumer’, gender equality, or matters of migration.

Not only have *brands* invested in social media, it’s becoming ever more of a platform for activists, politicians as well as influencers. It is a way to excite and rile up communities.

As the young Social media user base evolves and grows up, so too will the platforms. New platforms spring up like TikTok for new users, but the core platforms that for the base of social media have been established now.

The way we interact with those will change. People engage in longer form content but also the attention span is super short. It is a medium of significant contradictions.

4.     What causes are you most passionate about?

Primarily, wellbeing and health and fitness. Going back to my previous point (above) there is a real trend online now to be or be seen to be very passionate about a cause, whether it be the environment, feminism, migration etc but my platform is and will carry on only being about health. It’s completely politically neutral. I have grown up in Sweden, I have cared about nature and the environment since birth, but these are broadly private views for me on my platforms.

5.     How do you drive engagement on Instagram?

You need to post consistent, new, relevant and engaging content, dabble with new formats and placements, go stories, optimise for mobile first creative (vertical, sound on, key message in the first 3 seconds, fun stickers etc) – it’s got to be candy floss!!

6.     What is the key to a healthy, balanced diet?

The longer I’ve worked in the industry, the more I’ve realised that everyone is different and reacts differently to different foods. In order to enjoy and stick to a healthy way of eating you need to find something that you enjoy which is realistic. Anyone can stick to ‘the perfect diet’ if they were committed enough. At the end of the day it’s a question of what do you want more… the ice-cream or the six pack. For me, I like to think as long as I’m healthy most of the time, at 80% of my ‘best’, when I really wish to up the game before a holiday or something I’ve only got to increase my intensity/commitment by 20% – totally reasonable and realistic. What I would say is, it’s about portion control, eating quality foods (not eliminating any macros from the regimen – fat, protein, carbs), and timing – aiming to eat small amounts, regularly throughout the day. Fresh, locally sourced produce is best.

7.     Which influencers, celebs or activists do you admire right now?

I follow a bunch of different people for different reasons. I’m a big fan of Yoga with Adrienne, I also love interior design and Sophie Paterson is a definite fave. I enjoy Sheerluxe for fashion and chit chat.

8.     What do you think is the modern definition of wellness

I think wellness is timeless in the sense that it remains a product of its key ingredients – nutrition, movement/exercise and mindfulness (recover, sleep, etc). The optimal blend of those ingredients I believe differs from person to person depending on their metabolism, human makeup etc.

Perhaps the modern definition is based more on what’s realistic given the time constraints and lack of movement in most people’s everyday lives. For many who sit for 10 hours a day, walking for 40 minutes to work can be the most they move in a day. It’s a case of incorporating as much ‘wellness’ as possible, in as realistic and achievable a manner as possible.

An additional dynamic may well be the auto-recognition and normalisation of stress and mental distress; wellness isn’t just about *physical* wellness. We all face psychological struggles of some sort and the contemporary narrative around this is far more accepting, which in turn helps with wellness.

9.  Where is the best place you’ve ever travelled to and what did you love about it?

I lack the words to convey my wonder for the Maldives – it’s like stepping into a postcard, a photoshopped existence where the saturation has been maxed out. The turquoise waters are impossible, the temperature delicious, the relief so gentle and shallow, the sand is like flour under your feet and every morning you wake up in awe as to how beautiful the world truly can be. I return from the Maldives as if I’ve been somewhat reborn. From one’s first trip, everywhere else is ‘just not quite the Maldives’ thereafter.

10.  Do you think there is a bigger duty of care to audiences when dealing with the topic of wellness?

Yes, it’s why many of my blog posts have always strayed toward the ‘biomechanics manual’ rather than the 1-minute read. I am and have always been very careful as to what I advise, what I choose to promote and how I word my posts related to health online. There is a big difference between saying ‘here’s a delicious salad recipe’ and ‘this salad recipe will cure cancer and make you skinny’. Someone who may not be qualified to promote fitness online, may encourage someone to get up off the sofa that day – but on the other hand, that person may be more likely to sustain injury as the advice given isn’t necessarily safe or pursuant to a professional beat practice. It’s a tough one. Do we start regulating sites?

11.  What’s item can you not leave home without?

Four critical things; keys, phone, wallet, air pods.

12.  What makes you angry?

Untrustworthiness and unreliability…. People who let you down, or lie, or try to screw you over.

13.  Do you think it is the brand or the influencers responsibility to ensure authenticity and transparency?

I think it’s both parties responsibility. If you are sharing something on your platform, you’d hope it’s authentic – either you genuinely love the product, have been using it for year, or have tried it and can vouch for it. However, there will be times when the brand needs to point out certain details that may be unknown to the influencer. It’s a capitalist world out there and advertising buys into that wholeheartedly; people are going to try and sell stuff. But if content is flagrantly advertorial, you’ll know – and consumers are too smart for that!!

14.  What kind of email PR pitch would turn you off immediately?

I always like a face to face meeting with PR, as it adds a touch of old school human interaction, and helps to build rapport on both sides. However in my line of work, I see poor email outreach quite often. There’s a wide array of approaches; at the weaker end of the spectrum are lazy emails – dripping with spelling mistakes, and rarely getting my name right. That doesn’t mean the pitch will be weak, but if the PR outreach demonstrates a clear lack of insight as to who you are, by name or substance, it’s unlikely to bear fruit thereafter. Detail matters in order to find the right fit. Poorly structured, rambling emails that don’t make it totally clear what the pitch is about are a major turn off too. There’s too much noise in any given inbox, and crisp PR pitches cut through easily. Shorter, sweeter, more precise and to the point makes everyone’s job easier .

15.  Who takes your pictures?

Whilst it’s not his full-time job, my husband is a professional photographer, and when he can, he will always take my pictures. It is quite a help having your production facilities in house as you can move as fast as you want!

16.  What do you miss most about Sweden?

Mainly the proximity to nature – the fresh, invigorating smell of the outdoors, actually being able to see the horizon, as well as the proximity to the ocean. I also miss the food, especially all the fresh fish, and of course the cinnamon buns! It’s all about balance.

The post MY FASHIONMONITOR INTERVIEW: “WELLNESS TODAY” appeared first on Fitness on Toast.

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[itsworn]

Son’s Wedding Is Perfect Excuse To Fix Survivor ’70 Charger!

The 1969 winner of the Kentucky Derby was named Majestic Prince, but for a young chemical engineering student named Chris Rodrigues, the attention that year turned to a horse of a different color, one in EF8 Dark Green Metallic to be exact. Chris was a senior at Clemson but also in ROTC, following in a family tradition of military service. It was a movie that many of us know well that caused him to decide on the “hot car” he wanted, as he would be going to jump school before joining up with the legendary 82nd Airborne in 1970.

“The Steve McQueen movie Bullitt revealed to me the new Charger R/T,” recalls Chris. “Although they used a 1968 model in the movie, since I saw the movie in late 1969 and wanted a new one optioned my way, special-ordering a new 1970 model made sense to me. The new engine gave me the chance to get something a little more streetable than a Street Hemi and hotter than a standard 440 HP.”

For 1970, the second-generation Charger, now considered to be one of the most iconic of all 1960s muscle car designs, was in its final season. Among things like the redesigned grille, wrap-around bumper, and new door scoop trim treatment, optional changes included the new 440 Six Pack engine in the R/T model that Chris wanted. Ironically, it would be the only year the engine was factory-available in this particular Charger body design.

So in October 1969, with $100.00 cash down, newly-commissioned Second Lieutenant Chris and his dad went over to Kirby’s Dodge in Arlington, Virginia near his parents’ Maryland home and ordered exactly what he wanted. The new car would an RT/SE combo with bucket seats, six-way driver’s seat, console, all tinted glass, black vinyl top, remote driver’s side mirror, rear stripe delete, and rear defogger among other things. Backed with a Super Track Pack which added the Pistol Grip-stirred four-speed and 4.10 Dana SureGrip rear end, this Six Pack was born to run from day one, easily churning the F60 tires mounted on Rallye rims, with the Tic Toc Tach keeping time as the AM/FM radio blasted out the top 40.

The balance due was just over $4,000.00 and Chris took delivery the day after Christmas 1969. Unknown to him at the time was that he had inadvertently joined a pretty elite group of buyers. Only 29 Six Pack R/T-SE examples came with a four-speed that year. In fact, there were a total of just 86 built in either driveline combo in 1970. That he would never sell the car would not be its collector value, but his appreciation for it. “The car is a very important part of who I was in the 1970s; it is still a very important part of my personal history. I can now share that with my son, Christopher,” says Chris.

Still, the need for more speed beckoned. One thing was the Pistol Grip, which Chris found painfully close to the ashtray knob; engineers fix stuff and in went a T-handle Hurst Competition Plus. As he had volunteered to go to Vietnam in mid-1971, he took the car to his sister in Tampa after contacting a newly-opened speed shop nearby about some upgrades. This was no ordinary back-alley tune-up joint, however. For a couple of years in the early 1970s, Big Daddy Don Garlits was in the business of building street power, and his “Hi Performance World” shop took on the role of personal trainer to the car. The man in charge of engine operations at the time was Jon Zorian (since Mr. Garlits was on near-constant tour with his dragster), and Zorian made sure to include things like a Crower cam, bottom-end balancing, Mallory Double Life ignition, Hooker Super Comp headers, Lakewood scatter shield, and more. Back from Viet Nam 10 months later, Chris returned to Clemson for graduate school as the work was completed. Don did have a direct part in the build-up, but one he might not have been overly celebratory about.

“I asked for more oil capacity but the three-inch sump extension and external Milodon pump pickup was too much for the street, so Don told me to bring it and he would fix it himself. Well, he had to pull a plug from an oil pump sump pickup passage inside the crankcase and heated it up red-hot to pull it. Unfortunately, extremely hot motor oil came out right behind the plug and Don burned his hand badly. I think he still has a rather nasty scar on his hand from it. Not my fault, but I still feel terrible about it to this day.”

Always a street beast, the Charger was never overly-thrashed, but Chris did manage to terrorize the streets of Fayetteville, NC at Fort Bragg, then back at Clemson, SC, where he obtained his master’s degree, graduating in 1974.

“The car was back together and scary strong. I drove it daily to class and work for two years and then, in 1974, moved to Aiken, SC to accept a job at the Atomic Energy Commission Savannah River Plant in research and development.” Rocket science. During the next five years, the car lead a life as a semi-weekly carpool driver. Eventually, the poor quality of gasoline lead to carburetor issues, and then some parts were stolen, which pushed the Charger into a sideline status. Chris’s burgeoning skydiving and parachuting rigging business then led him to put the car under a cover in a mostly enclosed garage, which became a fully enclosed garage when he moved to a new house in 1979.

Then came marriage and a family. The town of Aiken, SC is a noted horse-racing enclave, but the horse in Chris’s stable seemed sidelined almost indefinitely. There were couple of starts over the next 24 years; the heads came off, a spare 440 block and forged crankshaft were found, and in 2008, Chris prepped the engine to pull it out, but after seeing what might be needed, he again stopped. It should be noted he had never discarded anything. Some of the speed parts from the 1970s were still in boxes around the garage, as were all the original pieces that had been removed.

Then Chris’s son Christopher found his future wife. During this young man’s formative years, the car had been something he had dreamed of seeing back on the street, but time just never allowed that to happen. The wedding would be in early December, and that was the perfect catalyst for the resurrection of this very special 1970 Charger R/T-SE

“Christopher shared with his bride-to-be, Nicole, a wistful, seemingly impossible dream to be transported from their wedding to their wedding reception in my Charger R/T, which hadn’t run in his lifetime,” says the elder Rodrigues. “A gleam jumped into my eye; this was the opportunity! Christopher wanted it, and mom wanted Christopher to have what he wants. Basically, I had a blank check. When I heard that, I thought ‘Why not?’ and enlisted her and my wife in the conspiracy. It was to be a total surprise.”

Lucky for Chris, friends were available, and son Christopher was busy with his job in the golf business on Hilton Head Island. Chris had already been talking about it on the 1970 Dodge Charger Registry forum, and right in his own backyard was local long-time Mopar guy Chucky Cato, who actually knew a fair amount about Chris’s Charger R/T from back in the 1970s when it was running. Chucky has a deep appreciation for what Chris was deciding to do, and he would put in some serious time getting the car road worthy again on the short notice the wedding timetable had created. It should be noted the Charger is a true survivor, showing just over 63,000 original miles with no major rot. It has never been repainted, it retains the original driveline, and sports a mostly original interior. As we all know, any project like this always entails a lot of smaller details, but the biggest here would be getting the matching-numbers engine back together. Here is where the plan diverges from current trends. A lot of people with a car this rare would have insisted on getting the original engine back to completely stock form. Instead, knowing what the Charger had once been, Chris determined he would get it rebuilt with the horsepower he added over 40 years prior.

So after considering several options, he called Ken Hensley in Knoxville, TN to get started on the engine. Sometime earlier, he had bought a second block (date-coded to 1971) but he stayed with the plan to use the factory engine as the basis for a hot rebuild, with the replacement motor being set aside for restoring it to exact-stock trim. After all, the plan was to enjoy the car once it was done. Hensley Performance, well-known in the southeast for reliable horsepower packaging, worked up an engine program to put the old motor back into gear, with Matt Hensley doing the assembly.

This included an original factory Edelbrock Six Pack intake, fresh carbs, Performer RPM heads, TTi headers and exhaust, a COMP CRB3 XE284H-10 camshaft, an .040 overbore, and full balancing. Chris did leave the factory Six Pack air cleaner painted black during the Garlits rebuild on the fresh mill. Back in South Carolina, Chuck Cato, friend Andy Kocis, and Chris were working to get the rest of the car running, doing the typical Mopar stuff, like replacing the worn-out heater core, rebuilding the Dana 60 after years of sitting, installing a fresh clutch, trouble-shooting the wiring, brakes, shocks, fuel lines, and more. Chris did not want the solid body fully restored, opting to have South Carolina Collision Center do some very minor clean-ups. The clock was ticking. “First road test today,” Chris texted to a friend shortly thereafter. “Holy crap! A real fire-breathing dragon! Much more impressive than 40 years ago! Wow…”

While the car was apart and being redone, Chris found the original broadcast sheet behind the back seat. He still had his old dealer order form and delivery info paperwork as well, and even found the old window sticker, though the pile of receipts from Garlits’ work were gone. The real secret now was to keep the younger Chris unaware of just what was going on as he traveled back and forth to his home on the coast getting ready for the wedding.

“Since Christopher and Nicole were both living in Hilton Head Island, he wasn’t at the house much. I’m pretty sure that Christopher was only mildly curious that the Charger had moved from my garage. The cover story his fiancée concocted was that I was considering selling it and moved it to a friend’s shop where it would show better. He seemed to buy it.”

As the wedding rolled near, typical teething problems surfaced. Chris told us: “As with all projects, there were last-minute glitches that threaten to wreck the schedule. The heater core turned up rotten and had to be replaced at the last minute. Then the day before the wedding, the starter loosened up, preventing engagement. I had to pull a MacGyver—you know, two paper clips and a wad of chewing gum. Translation: without a lift, figure out how to reach in through the header snakes nest and use a short Walmart ratcheting box-end wrench to tighten one starter bolt snugly enough so that we could safely start the engine a limited number of times.”

The wedding was held on a Saturday evening at a church just outside of Newberry, S.C. Chris had earlier stashed the Charger out of sight behind a storage building behind the church. With things finished at the church and underway at the reception, Chris slipped out, cranked it up, and made a quick trip around to the front of the church. It could not be a quiet entrance, however, and even Christopher figured out what was up as the rumble echoed into the building.

“It was night time and I was about 50 feet away pulling the Charger in front of the church, but Nicole tells me that when he looked out at the curb and realized what vehicle was making that engine noise, his eyes got big as saucers! He finally got his first ride in it.”

Fast Facts

1969 Dodge Charger R/T-SE Chris Rodrigues Concord, NC

ENGINE Type: numbers-matching 440ci big-block Chrysler Displacement: 448ci Bore x stroke: 4.32 (bore) x 3.75 (stroke) Block: factory cast iron RB-series Rotating assembly: original factory forged Six Pack crankshaft internally balanced by Garlits with Mallory metal circa 1970, original stock Six Pack connecting rods, new Mopar .040-over stock Six Pack aluminum pistons Compression: near stock 10.7:1 Cylinder heads: Edelbrock Performer RPM aluminum head w/stage I port and polish Camshaft: COMP Cams CRB3, 0.505-/0.510-inch lift, 240/246 degrees at .050-inch lift, 110-degree LSA Valvetrain: appropriate components for Edelbrock Performer RPM heads custom chosen and fitted by Hensley Racing Induction: OE Edelbrock 440 Six Pack intake Fuel system: replacement factory-type Holley 3×2 layout, Holley 12-440-11 mechanical fuel pump w/AC electric booster pump near fuel tank; fuel line diameter and routing is stock Exhaust: TTi 440-178C4 headers, 2 ½-inch TTi X-pipe exhaust system, DynoMax mufflers Ignition: MSD AL6M ignition module, MSD coil, MSD plug wires Cooling: original 26-inch radiator rebuilt to stock by Whitton Radiator Service, Augusta, GA Fuel: 92 octane lead-free, ethanol-free pump gas Output: not dyno tested; estimated by Hensley Performance to be 475-plus hp Engine built by: Hensley Performance, Knoxville, TN

DRIVETRAIN Transmission: A833 Chrysler four-speed Driveshaft: refreshed stock Rearend: Dana 60 with 4:10 gearing

CHASSIS Front suspension: completely stock and original Rear suspension: completely stock and original Steering: factory Front brakes: stock front discs Rear brakes: stock drums

WHEELS & TIRES Wheels: factory 15-inch Rallye Tires: BF Goodrich steel belted T/A raised white letter

INTERIOR Seats: stock SE for 1970 Charger model (mis-built from factory with deluxe vinyl centers) Instruments: factory stock Charger dashboard with Tic-Toc Tach, 150mph speedometer, Stewart Warner direct-feed oil pressure gauge, toggle switches mounted into dash pad Stereo: factory solid state AM/FM Steering wheel: stock SE three-spoke design Shifter: circa-1970 Hurst Competition Plus shifter and tee handle w/Line-Loc switch, Hurst Line-Loc, engine kill switch, alternator field current cut-out switch

The Charger design was used and abused by Hollywood and others, making the remaining vehicles popular on the market today. This car has mostly original paint, original interior, numbers-matching driveline, original owner, and full documentation since new.

After Don Garlits Hi-Performance World built up this engine back in the day, Chris could not go back to stock again. Hensley Performance got the nod to re-fortify it, which included blueprinting many of the stock Six Pack parts plus Edelbrock heads, MSD AL6M ignition, and a COMP EBC3 hydraulic cam. Garlits shop painted the air cleaner.

The interior shows little difference from the day of delivery, and for good reason. The SE packaging included deluxe buckets, console, and woodgrain trim; changes were the Hurst t-handle for power shifts, flip-toggles for controls, and a Stewart Warner oil pressure gauge.

Christopher (right) had never seen his father’s car running in his lifetime; his wedding in December 2016 was the catalyst to drag it out.

You’ve got love the fact that being the only owner meant the paperwork stayed intact. Here is the typed-out form that the dealer submitted for production in 1969. Chris took delivery of the car on December 26, 1969, and also has the original warranty paperwork, original temporary registration form, broadcast sheet, and near-complete window sticker.

For decades, this Charger was hidden away in Chris’s garage, which inadvertently preserved it.

Chris had also stashed his old replacement parts and a lot of things that he had taken off the car during its years of street cruising. Still, he wanted to keep it hot, not stock.

Friends like Andy Kocis were a big help. Chris began disassembly at his shop: here is the old motor coming out of the car.

A lot of credit goes to Chucky Cato, a local Mopar guy who Chris had known since the days when the car was still running. Chucky did a lot of the little fixes the car needed as the time became more critical.

Chris opted for fresh carbs, and Ken Hensley had a factory Edelbrock aluminum manifold from 1970 which is now port matched to the Performer RPM heads. The factory unit will go onto a restoration motor built around an extra block, and that mill may be in the car with the hot motor as a display piece.

After years of storage, the upcoming marriage of his son gave Chris Rodrigues the push to revive his old R/T SE, a car he had special-ordered in late 1969. It is one of just 29 four-speed Six Pack examples built that year. After sitting for 38 years, it came back to life in less than six months.

The post Son’s Wedding Is Perfect Excuse To Fix Survivor ’70 Charger! appeared first on Hot Rod Network.

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[dipulb3]

2020 Acura NSX review: The softer side of supercars

New Post has been published on https://appradab.com/2020-acura-nsx-review-the-softer-side-of-supercars-2/

2020 Acura NSX review: The softer side of supercars

It’s a wide boi.

Andrew Krok/Roadshow

Supercars are supposed to miss the forest for the trees. These ragged-edge cars focus so intently on high-speed performance and high-cost trimmings that they’re often tough to truly utilize on a daily basis, relegating them to weekend warriors at best. But not the 2020 Acura NSX. This Japanese scalpel is more than ready to rumble on a backroad, but it carries a softness that gives the car more than enough pliancy to make for a quality grocery-getter, albeit one that’s a bit over equipped for the task.

Like

Ever-present hybrid power

Impressive in daily driving

Never stops being fun

Don’t Like

Mediocre infotainment

Persistent windshield reflections

No Individual mode

Before I even get behind the wheel of the 2020 Acura NSX, I’m hit with that familiar kind of supercar weird-for-the-sake-of-being-weird-ness. On approach, the thin door handles pop out to greet me, which is a fun parlor trick. Thankfully, the doors open in the normal direction, as the NSX has absolutely no problem turning heads without bringing atypical hinges and butterfly doors into the equation.

With interesting angles in every direction, from flying buttresses out back to the aggressive front bumper, the NSX is like most other supercars in that it’s damn near impossible to blend in anywhere. Even beyond the show-off styling, my tester’s $6,000 Valencia Red Pearl paint job isn’t about to let that happen.

First impressions come quickly after sliding past the NSX’s door. Despite the body’s relative position to terra firma, the seating position is a little higher than I expect, giving me a greater feeling of normalcy than I encounter in, say, a McLaren or a Lamborghini. Visibility is quite good in most directions, with loads of forward sight (thanks in part to way-thin A-pillars) and superb blind-spot coverage from the mirrors that sprout from the body like antennae. The view out back is fine, considering there’s an engine a few inches behind me. Be mindful of the sun’s position, though: Too many direct rays from ol’ Sol and the front windshield begins to resemble a cheese grater thanks to serious reflections of the massive speaker grille below. It can be really annoying, especially in spirited driving or slow-speed neighborhoods where children and squirrels are likely to be in the street.

Overall, the NSX’s interior quality feels worth the $150,000+ cost of admission. Soft leather covers most of the dashboard, door panels, center tunnel and steering wheel, and what isn’t made from the smooth stuff is bedecked in carbon fiber (a $2,500 option) and satin aluminum. The small bit of piano black trim on the transmission controls, which should be very familiar to most recent Honda or Acura owners, is the only part of the interior that feels a little low-rent, and only then it’s because of its propensity to accumulate finger grime. The cup holders are small and only attach to a slot on the center console, but you can tuck them into the diminutive glove compartment when not in use. Other storage comes by way of wallet-sized slots in the door panels, a key- (and mask-) sized slot in the center console and a small hinged cubby against the rear firewall that houses the USB port. It’s tight, like many supercars, but there’s still a decent amount of room for my 6-foot frame to get comfortable.

Most mid-engined supercars throw owners a storage bone by way of front and rear trunks. But not the NSX — electric motors and other hardware live under the hood, so the only cargo storage is located aft of the engine. Not only is the trunk small, its proximity to the twin-turbo V6 means whatever goes back there has to be heat-tolerant. Put your bags of ice in the passenger-side footwell.

All of those silly concerns melt away from the second I push the start button. Just behind my head, the 3.5-liter, twin-turbocharged V6 growls itself awake before quickly settling into a quieter idle, something neighbors are bound to appreciate. A push of the Drive button puts the nine-speed dual-clutch transmission to work, which provides just a smidgeon of slip as first gear engages.

In the default Sport mode, the NSX proves to me that it can absolutely function as a daily driver. Despite lacking air or McLaren’s complicated hydraulics, the NSX’s static suspension is surprisingly comfortable, soaking up a wide variety of bumps and humps without unsettling the car or its occupants. The chassis’ inherent stiffness remains obvious, but the ride is far smoother than I went in expecting.

Small issues with the cabin disappear completely once the speedometer starts to rise.

Andrew Krok/Roadshow

Gear shifts are unobtrusive, and in low-rev situations, the V6 (which produces 500 horsepower and 406 pound-feet of torque on its own) is content to putter along quietly — if it’s even running at all. In Quiet mode, the NSX will use its small battery to operate like any other hybrid, silently hustling along under electric power alone — Sport offers electric-only operation, too, but in more limited quantities. The V6 cuts in and out with little, if any jostling in the cabin. It’s Prius smooth, in a good way.

Twist the mode knob to Sport Plus, and the NSX emits some sort of magic substance that causes me to forget about literally anything that isn’t the car or the road directly ahead of it. I feel the frenetic energy start to rise as the engine dramatically increases its volume at all times, even though it’s a little meh on the tonal front at lower revs. The V6 calls on the help of three electric motors — two up front, one out back — to generate a net 573 hp and 476 lb-ft. As you’d expect, the electric motors absolutely assault me with torque at a moment’s notice, and it’s really evident in tight corners, where the front axle helps pull me through as Continental SportContact performance tires grip the pavement. It’s easy to approach a corner with more speed than expected, but thankfully, it’s also easy to shuffle out the other side. Between those points, optional carbon-ceramic rotors ($10,600!) will scrub speed with both excellent modulation and impressive haste, over and over again. It’s impossible not to have fun in the 2020 NSX.

My only real gripe here is that I wish I could mix and match the modes. I get it, Acura put these modes together to make sure the car exemplifies whatever it’s after, but if I really wanted to daily drive this car, I’d want the engine constantly in Sport Plus with the suspension in Quiet. Why the hell can’t I have that?

You never really hear the NSX’s turbochargers spool up until you really glom on the throttle, then it’s all you’ll hear.

Andrew Krok/Roadshow

One thing that Acura has in common with every other supercar manufacturer is its middling-at-best infotainment system. Ripped straight from, oh, every single Honda Civic on the dealership lot, the NSX’s 7-inch head unit packs suction-cupped-Garmin-era graphics, just-OK response time and limited functionality. Apple CarPlay and Android Auto are on offer, which means it’s pretty easy to ignore the standard setup altogether. The motif changes from red to blue depending on vehicle mode, but I kind of wish Acura could have put its own unique spin on this — or at least upgraded the 2020 NSX to the most recent (and prettier) version found on the Odyssey and other large adult Hondas. The gauge cluster is entirely digital, too, and while it’s weird that it’s tilted away from my eyes, it provides me with all the data I could possibly ask for. It’s easy to mess around with, too, thanks to super-simple scrollers on the steering wheel.

As for safety systems, you get… parking sensors. And non-adaptive cruise control. Want anything else? Buy a TLX.

With a starting price of $159,495 after destination, the 2020 Acura NSX is almost competing with two separate classes of high-performance vehicle. On the one side, you have the hardcore non-supercars like the Porsche 911 Turbo, the Mercedes-AMG GT R or, if you don’t need a six-figure window sticker, the mid-engined Chevrolet Corvette, all of which are excellent cars, but all of which lack the “What was that?” emotional appeal of proper supercars. Speaking of which, the NSX is positioned against some big names here, too, like the Audi R8 and, if you want to drop another $30k, the McLaren 570S. Those cars are more along the lines of the NSX, but they’re also a fair bit sharper than the Acura, too.

When a car is engineered with performance at the top of the masthead, comfort has to be put back ­­into it. Sometimes it requires complex components, other times it just doesn’t happen very well. But the 2020 Acura NSX does an excellent job blending daily usability and performance in a way that other supercars don’t. Does it leave a little bit of skidpad rating on the table? Sure. But I’ll be damned if you can find a more entertaining way to commute in comfort.