There's something wonderfully American about taking a muscle car to Germany's most terrifying racetrack and attempting to embarrass supercars costing twice as much. It's automotive diplomacy with a V8 soundtrack. The Ford Mustang GTD has returned to the Nürburgring, that twisting ribbon of tarmac terror in the Eifel mountains, to see if it can go even faster than it did last August when it clocked a frankly ridiculous 6 minutes and 57.6 seconds. That time was already enough to secure the title of fastest American production car ever around the Green Hell, but apparently, Ford CEO Jim Farley thinks it can do better. Which is a bit like having the world's tallest building and then deciding to add another floor, just to make absolutely sure nobody else catches up.For those not familiar with the Mustang GTD, it's essentially what happens when Ford's engineers are given a blank check and told to go a bit mad. Based on the standard Mustang, it has about as much in common with the regular pony car as I do with an Olympic athlete. It's lower, wider, and angrier, with a 5.2-liter supercharged V8 producing 815 horsepower and 664 pound-feet of torque. That's enough grunt to propel this beast to 202 mph, making it the second-fastest production Ford ever after the GT supercar.The sound it makes is nothing short of apocalyptic. Recent spy footage from the Nürburgring reveals a car that doesn't so much announce its presence as tear a hole in the fabric of reality with its exhaust note. The supercharger whine is particularly prominent, giving the impression that the car is actually breathing in the surrounding air with such violence that small birds and insects are at risk of being inhaled. What's particularly interesting about this record attempt is the competition Ford appears to be targeting. The current production car record at the 'Ring belongs to the Mercedes-AMG One, which lapped the circuit in 6 minutes and 29 seconds. Shaving nearly half a minute off the GTD's time seems unlikely unless Ford has somehow figured out how to bend the laws of physics, or perhaps discovered a shortcut nobody else knows about.More realistic targets might be the Porsche 911 GT3 (6:55) or, if they're feeling particularly ambitious, the 911 GT3 RS (6:49). These are serious performance machines with serious price tags, which brings us to the elephant in the room: the Mustang GTD costs $325,000. Yes, you read that correctly. This Mustang costs as much as a small house in most parts of America or a modest one-bedroom flat in London. It's the same price as the Mercedes-AMG GT Black Series when that car launched five years ago. For that kind of money, you'd expect something special, and the GTD certainly delivers in the visual drama department. It looks like it escaped from a race track, with its massive rear wing, aggressive diffuser, and enough vents and scoops to make a fighter jet jealous. It's so extreme that Ford has admitted it might not even be street-legal in certain European markets, which is a bit like saying your pet tiger might not be welcome at the local dog park.Production will be limited to between 300 and 700 units annually, making it rarer than hen's teeth. Ford is also implementing a no-flipping policy for the first two years of ownership, presumably to prevent the sort of speculative buying and immediate reselling that plagued the Ford GT. This means that if you're lucky enough to get your hands on one, you'll have to live with it for at least 24 months, which sounds less like a punishment and more like a privilege.Whether the Mustang GTD manages to improve its already impressive lap time remains to be seen. But in many ways, the actual number is beside the point. The fact that a Mustang – a car whose ancestors were more at home doing burnouts in mall parking lots than setting lap records at world-famous racing circuits – is now competing with bespoke German performance machines is a victory in itself.It's the automotive equivalent of showing up to a black-tie dinner in cowboy boots and somehow pulling it off with such confidence that everyone else feels overdressed. And that, perhaps, is the most American thing about it.
