Going Nowhere Fast

After hearing this upbeat assessment, I'm ready for a ride. As Hoffman takes off, the truck feels ponderous; it seems to brake, corner, and accelerate in slow motion. But as we pick up speed, I´m stunned by how plush the ride is. Don´t get me wrong: This is a racecar, not a limousine. But we´re careering over the worst terrain I´ve ever been on, and the truck seems to float over the bumps like a flying carpet. We slow to a crawl in the rough stuff–rocky up-and-down sections that would be perfect for hiking. Here Hoffman works the gas pedal more gingerly, accelerating up the inclines and breathing the throttle as we climb over the tops. I sense the wheels extending fully in bump and rebound (as the motion is called), and every now and then, there´s an ugly metallic crunch as the chassis slams into the ground.

It´s hard to believe that anything can survive this kind of pounding. Frankly, I´m amazed that the wheels don't shear off, the suspension doesn't collapse, and the body doesn't crumple up like a paper bag in a trash compactor. And as it happens, the new truck is slowed by various problems the next day and stops working entirely the following morning. Clearly, there's much to be done. But none of the issues are showstoppers, and the test convinces Pflueger that he owns the fastest Trophy-Truck in existence. "But I'd like this truck to be so dominant," he says, "that it takes everybody two years to catch up with us."

Update: The problems that surfaced during the test in the desert forced Harris to redesign several components. In late September (after we went to press with the November issue, in which this story ran), the team decided to focus its efforts on its older, but proven, Trophy-Truck and delay the new one's debut until 2007.

In the June issue, Preston Lerner wrote about cars designed to stay on the road.