The no-option orange Prowler seen here clocked in at a nice round $45,000; the 'Bird starts at $36K, but add up the options (the removable hardtop—porthole and garage stand included—is a $2,500 hit alone) and you're on the high side of $40K in no time. Include the inevitable "dealer market adjustment" for what is going to be a sold-out model, and suddenly it's even money.
Then there's that image thing. Arguments will go back and forth forever as to the schizophrenic nature of a "factory hot rod," and whether anything with just 250 hp can qualify for such a moniker. The Prowler, despite its looks, has been tainted by this argument since day one, and though Ford is purposely not marketing the Thunderbird as a tire-smoking hottie ("relaxed sportiness" is Ford's mantra this time), it could get tarred with the same brush. Do they deserve it? Let's see.
Style
Prowler paved the way for retro to make a splash on the automotive styling scene. Discounting a handful of boutique Nissans that never made it to the States, Viper did it first, a dozen years ago now, with its Cobraesque proportions; Viper merely hinted at its influences, however, whereas Prowler wears them on its sleeve. It bears some note that, while Ford dipped into its own history with the visuals on the Thunderbird (grille, hood scoop, chrome windshield surround, front-fender vents, hardtop porthole, fog lights that appear where bumperettes once lived), Chrysler also dipped into Ford's history, taking its inspiration from Chrysler ex-styling chief Tom Gale's own tricked-out '33 roadster. You could make a case that without the Prowler and the enormous amount of attention it generated, there wouldn't be a Thunderbird like this. Or a PT Cruiser. Or a New Beetle. Or a Ford Forty-Nine concept. And Buick wouldn't be talking about bringing back fender portholes. But we digress.
Taking a page from Chrysler's recent styling book, Ford's 'Bird has a cab-forward vibe that looks slightly unsettling; ragtops demand long-nose/short-deck proportions, and moving the windshield back even a few inches at the base could have righted things. Chrysler, meanwhile, practically (or impractically) seats you just ahead of the 20-inch rear wheels, making for fully two-thirds of the Prowler ahead of you. It still looks right, though it's easy to age well when it's based so closely on an established classic. To our eye, Prowler got the lines down but feels weird to pilot, with its high door lines and impossible-to-see fenders and bumpers; the far more conventional Thunderbird is double-plus comfy but slightly weird to look at. Time will tell how the '02 Thunderbird fares in the public eye. No one on the street seemed to agree with my proportioning peccadilloes, however.
Stopping for lunch, filling the tanks at the local Chevron, stuck in traffic, no matter: Wherever we took these two, people wanted to know all about the new T-bird. All ages, both genders, all demographics—it didn't matter. Street-corner skate rats, no more than 11, asked very politely what kind of car I was driving, and what year it was. An ancient gentleman in an equally ancient Dual-Ghia (!) in traffic gave me the thumbs-up. A California-blonde hottie McDonald's manager flashed a yearning smile that I would have pursued further in my single days. Neighbors I'd never met spilled out of their apartments suddenly keen on meeting me. They didn't even notice the Prowler, resplendent in its retina-searing hue. But they wanted to know all about the Thunderbird.
Neither look their best top-up, but Prowler's manual piece is a joy to work: unlatch, open trunk, fold in, close trunk. No tonneau cover necessary; a simple delight. The T-bird's power roof is easier; undo a central latch and press a button. End. However, the 'Bird's tonneau not only eats up nearly all usable trunk space when not in use, but is nearly impossible to put on, even following the directions. (It took four Ford people five solid minutes of fidgeting to get it to look right when I went to pick the car up.) Watch for tons of top-down T-birds to be missing this particular piece as they drive.
On The Track
Precious few owners of either of these vehicles will be seeking out strip duties, but in the interest of science we had to get numbers. Even at 9 a.m., LACR in the mile-high desert of Palmdale is getting toasty, and the hour-long slog to get there doesn't help cool the cars off any quicker. We don't expect either of these to light our worlds on fire with sheer tire-blistering force, as (looks aside for the Prowler) this is not really their mission in life. Still, we managed to coax new Rod & Custom editor Terry McGean out of exile long enough to shoe these two down the quarter and pick his brain for some driving insights.
The 'Bird's 3.9L DOHC V-8 (same as in the Lincoln LS) packs 252 hp at 6,100 rpm and 267 lb-ft at 4,300 rpm: a bit high in the revs for our liking, but still seemingly sufficient grunt. Adjusting for elevation and the 90-plus degree temperatures, the 'Bird soared to an unremarkable 15.36 at 92.4 mph. Second gear comes in well into the powerband, but Third drops off considerably. Final drive is a driver-friendly 3.58:1 but it helps the 'Bird's five-speed automatic 'box shift into Fourth as it passes through the traps; the best run was done holding it in Third. The (dual) exhaust note was clearly V-8–based but well restrained; weight lifters make similar straining noises as they attempt to dead-lift twice their body weight.
McGean reported leaving it in drive (D5) with traction control (TC) off as the best way to sail: Starting off in Third means exactly that, and shifting manually was confusing the computer into not shifting at all. The tires will chirp with the TC engaged, by the way—but only a little. To the TC-free Prowler, then. There seemed to be a number of contradictions at work here, not the least of which is a V-6 with nearly as much displacement (and within a spittle of the power) as Ford's V-8—253 hp at 6,400 rpm and 255 lb-ft at 3,950 rpm, to be exact. In our minds, right off the bat, the V-6 put the Prowler at a disadvantage. Boy, were we wrong.
Prowler ran a full half-second quicker, with a quicker corrected 15.08 e.t. at a lower 94.2-mph trap speed. Again, the shift-it-yourself option (with the four-speed AutoStick) was marginally slower than leaving the tranny alone to do its thing, though McGean was convinced that short-shifting a little with the AutoStick feature could have sped things up a tad. Exhaust note was a frenetic, blatty banshee wail the whole distance of the track, an indication of its speed, and it chirped those big 20s going into Second. It felt faster, too: Even in a straight line, as McGean reports, "you can feel the speed, hear the wind, and feel the body quivering." Three-and-a-half tenths on the strip never felt so different.
A trip to the scales reveals the dirty little secret behind the somewhat surprising results: Prowler weighs a svelte 2,800 pounds, while the Thunderbird rolls in at a porcine 3,700-and-change (nearly 3,800 if we'd kept the hard top on). Nine hundred pounds is a lot to answer for, though the three-tenths difference between the two suggest that Ford's V-8 would be a strong runner in something a little lighter, or more sporting. Like a Mustang. Ahem.
On the Street
The looks on their faces tell the story: The Prowler has a glint in its eye at all times, ready for mischief, while the T-bird looks like it's awakening from a mid-afternoon nap. Prowler is all beagle puppy, bouncy and eager and willing to please and whatever we do let's do it fast and it'll be fun and boy oh boy! You can practically see its tail wagging; it does everything but trip over its own ears. Accordingly, Ford's entry is more Lhasa Apso, a traditional beauty content to trot with grace and elegance while in motion; it's fast enough to make an impression, yet able to fully soak up admiring glances. Ironically, it feels more self- conscious than the Prowler. Or maybe I do.
Press the gas in the T-bird and you don't so much accelerate as accumulate speed; don't rush it, it'll get there. It corners with a reassuring solidity (more so with the hard top installed, we must admit) that belies its heft, and chassis flex, though evident, is more under control than in other ragtops we've driven lately. It's soft, but not sloppy. The interior transmits this same solidity, despite the plasticky color-keyed dash, door, and seat options conspiring to undermine the elegance. (The yellow/yellow combo, in particular, broadcasts to the world that pimpin' ain't easy.) Once over that, there's a certain ease to the controls that allows your mind to wander; it's almost too easy to get comfortable in, and the aqua sweep needles on the gauges are a nice touch.
The Prowler, on the other hand, lets you know you're in a Prowler at all times. One drive tells you, in no uncertain terms, just what Ford did with that extra 900 pounds. Prowler is a go-cart compared to the cushy Bird: It's not just sharper on all fronts, it's gone off the deep end, all twitchy and edgy. Inside, too, is compromised, largely due to its role as rolling paean to its ancestors; here is where the Prowler's roots show. The center-mounted gauges remain distracting, the doors don't open very wide, and the sides of the cabin come in at your feet. No one over 6 feet need bother. Ultimate comfort is not the point here—the "hot rod" experience is. At this, beyond sheer acceleration, Prowler excels. The bonded aluminum substructure does wonders for dropping weight, but your butt is allowed to discover every pavement crack and straw wrapper you run over. Chassis flex is a way of life ’round these parts. Cowl shake? Ha! More like a cowl lap dance. You might want to stick a dollar bill in the ashtray when you put it in Park.
Can You Tweak Them?
Of course. There is a whole host of things you can do to a Prowler, not the least of which is to drop a supercharger in there (we drove Paxton's huffed version, July '00 issue). Scrapping the front bumper doesn't do much for safety but makes it tons prettier. John Lingenfelter has dropped an LS1 between the fenderwells (at great cost), and even Chrysler fit a 4.7L Jeep V-8 in there (in the Howler show vehicle, see Dec. '00). Mostly, Prowler mods we've seen are limited to bodywork and wheel/tire combos with some tacky body add-ons. The 3.5L engine is in the Intrepid, and as sharp as that sedan is, it's hardly choice material for hop-ups, and with just a few thousand Prowlers built in any given year, it seems unlikely. The T-bird, since it's so new, will have a rougher go of it, at least initially, but if you get creative you can get started while the aftermarket catches up. Ford-built hardware can give you a headstart: tauter Lincoln LS V-8 or Jaguar S-Type Sport springs, sway bars, and dampers will work better for those accustomed to sporting rides; Jags also get better-breathing cylinder heads good for an extra 20 hp up top. Ford will make more T-birds in one year—25,000—than Chrysler will make Prowlers in its entire production cycle (just 10,000 since startup at press time), so 'Bird parts will come sooner than you can say SEMA.
Then there are also the persistent rumors of an upcoming supercharged version through SVT; though reps will say nothing on or off the record, they will gleefully discuss the heritage of the '57 T-bird and how a limited run were factory-equipped with Paxton huffers. Hmmm… third year in, blower goes on. Just like the good old days. That's about the time Prowler is scheduled to make its curtain call; perhaps the C6 Vette ragtop will be out for a slightly more appropriate comparo then. And SVT-Bird has a nice ring to it. Model year '04 can't be that far away, can it?
Verdict
Whereas our infamous Vette/Lightning test saw two very different vehicles arrive at the same parameters almost accidentally, Prowler and T-bird seem cut from the same bolt of cloth… though one was sewn into a party dress, the other an elegant ball gown. Are they hot rods? Well, the Thunderbird never really claims or pretends to be, and so is excused; Prowler, though faster than its match here, still isn';t freak-you-out fast, though it has the rest of the moves down cold. More importantly, each fills in gaps the other leaves: Prowler is an intimate drive but not one you'd want to take long distances; Thunderbird is a slightly distant interstate cruiser that begs to cruise. One for casual, one for formal. One of each, then.