Welcome
Ben Miller Editor To this day I’ve never driven anything like it. My one and only contact with the cultural touchstone that is the American muscle car in context (and context is crucial: a Mustang on the M25 is still a Mustang, but it doesn’t work like it does on sun-scorched US black-top, starring in its own mind’s-eye art movie every 500 yards) was a few unforgettable days with a Dodge Hellcat. You know the Hellcat: that unholy, 707hp union of super-charged 6.2-litre V8 and a car so charmingly built down to a price the entire rig came in at just $60,000/£48,000. Was it good? It was; certainly if good is completely capturing your imagination and laying down memories so potent I can still smell the rubber when I close…