Junior Partner - 1980 Maserati Merak SS

When an irresistible force meets an immovable object, as the philosopher Fred Astaire crooned, something's gotta give. And so it was when the adventurous engineering of Citroën collided with the more conservative world of Maserati during the two companies' brief but memorable marriage.

Overtures begun by Citroën's Pierre Bercot at the 1967 Geneva Show had culminated in the purchase of the financially ailing Modena concern in January 1968. What Bercot had wanted, and gotten, was a sophisticated engine for the exotic GT that Citroën had long wanted to build, the SM. What he acquired in the balance was a stable of capable, but dated, machines wearing the trident badge.

Upgrades to the compact, 3-liter V-6 raised horsepower from 190 to 220 for the Merak SS, though U.S. smog controls confiscated most of those 30 horses. Usually, the spare wheel covers most of this machinery. The purposeful cockpit of the SS defines what a Seventies exotic car was all about.

Like its rival Ferrari, Maserati had not immediately responded to the challenge presented by Lamborghini's game-changing, mid-engine Miura coupe of 1966. Its flagship Ghibli, introduced one year after the Miura, would not have raised a single eyebrow had it been produced a decade earlier, with its front-engine/rear-drive layout and a rear suspension that employed a live axle and leaf springs. It was both achingly beautiful and technologically cautious, in equal measure.

Executives and engineers alike realized that the front-drive SM project gave them an opportunity to make Maserati technically relevant virtually overnight, with not just one new car, but two. They coupled Maserati's four-cam V-8 to a ZF five-speed transaxle and mounted it behind the seats, wrapped the chassis in a gorgeous Italdesign envelope by Giorgetto Giugiaro, and, voilà! The Bora, the first half of a one-two supercar punch, was born. The year was 1971.

There was a notable French ingredient baked into this tasty Italian dish: Citroën's high-pressure hydraulic system. The engineers restrained themselves from stuffing a hydropneumatic suspension under the GT, satisfying themselves with creating the company's first four-wheel independent setup. But they did require the Bora owner to keep a supply of Liquide Hydraulique Minéral, or LHM, fluid on hand for the system that operated the brakes, the clutch, the adjustable pedals, the driver's seat height adjustment and the flip-up headlamps.

What really set the Bora apart from its supercar rivals, though, was something that couldn't be found on a specification sheet: Refinement. Maserati had a heritage of building civilized grand tourers that required no compromises from their drivers, and the Bora, for all its pulse-quickening modernity, carried on that tradition. Other exotics might squeeze the driver's feet into a sadistically tiny pedal box, blast his eardrums with engine noise and make him struggle to reach the controls, but not the Bora. Dual-pane glass, soon to be copied by other exotic car builders, buffered the cabin from the engine room, while hydraulics positioned the pedals right where the driver wanted them. There was even a reasonable amount of space for a weekend's worth of luggage.

There was comfort, too, in the poise of the Maserati's balanced chassis. This wasn't the sort of hair-trigger supercar that punished a driver's mistakes; there was enough understeer built in to make up for letting up on the gas or changing course in the middle of a corner. If there were any elements that took getting used to, they were the heavy-at-low-speed steering, and the high-pressure hydraulic brakes, though these at least were actuated by a conventional pedal, and not the SM's rubber mushroom.

No matter how nice the product, the market for a two-seat exotic with a stratospheric price tag is only so big. Where the contemporary Daytona and Miura were nudging the $20,000 mark, the Bora was priced at a breathtaking $26,900--equivalent to the median price of a new house. Many lusted, but few could write the check. This is where part two of Maserati's plan came into play, with the launch of the Merak in October 1972.

Powered by a bored-out, 3-liter version of the four-cam, 90-degree, all-aluminum V-6 found under the hood of the SM, the Merak strongly resembled the Bora, with which it shared sheetmetal from the doors forward. Giugiaro revised his earlier design, deleting the glass rear hatch and rear side windows and replacing them with a set of removable "flying butresses" that cleverly mimicked the V-8 car's profile. He also deleted the stainless steel roof used on the Bora, and reshaped the grille and bumpers. It shared its five-speed Citroën transaxle with the SM.

For Citroën and Maserati, the creation of the Merak was entirely logical. This was a car that could bridge the gap between the SM and the Bora, and steal sales from higher-volume cars like Porsche's 911. Almost overnight, the "entry-level exotic" niche was born, with Ferrari's Dino 308 GT4 and Lamborghini's Urraco, both powered by small-displacement V-8s, also hitting the market.

Anyone who cross-shopped the Merak with the SM was probably surprised to open the door of the new Maserati and discover the dashboard from its French cousin, complete with oval gauges, as well as its single-spoke steering wheel. They would also have noticed that, unlike the Bora, the Merak had a back seat--a tiny, uninhabitable back seat. This was a benefit of the tidy, longitudinally-mounted V-6, whose block was barely a foot long.

In a three-way test of the Merak, the 308 and the Urraco in the September 1975 issue of Road & Track, the Maserati finished well behind the Dino, and ahead of the surprisingly disappointing Lambo. "Want a car that is guaranteed to gather a crowd and turn heads wherever it's parked or driven? That's the Merak," the magazine said. "Perfect for cruising around Beverly Hills or Miami Beach, the quiet and smooth-riding Merak is equally at home on twisty two-lane roads."

R&T noted that there was just one eensy, teensy problem with the Merak: Its maker was going out of business. With the OPEC oil embargo and ensuing economic recession pummeling the market for exotic cars, cash-strapped Citroën announced that it would cut its losses by liquidating Maserati. R&T seemed nonplussed, reasoning that Alejandro de Tomaso, who had lost his earlier bid to buy the company, would probably ride to the rescue. Which is just what happened. In August 1975, control of Maserati was passed to de Tomaso and a state-owned Italian holding company.

In 1976, in a bid to meet the challenge of the much quicker 308, Maserati replaced the Merak with the Merak SS, with a trio of larger 44 DCNF carburetors and a 9.0:1 compression ratio pushing the output from 190 hp to 220. The SM dashboard was gone, replaced with a round-gauge dash; the later SS would feature the purposeful dashboard from the Bora. Cars built for the U.S. market had even less Citroën content, the high-pressure hydraulic system having been surgically removed. U.S. cars had another, less welcome difference: a desmogged engine with 28 fewer ponies than its European counterpart's. Testers found the new car to be no faster than the old.

Sales of the Bora had reached 571 when production trickled to a halt in 1978. The Merak outlived its big brother by four years, and with a production run of 1,817, outsold it by better than 3:1. The Merak SS accounted for the greatest number of sales, at 970, while about 647 of the pre-SS cars were built, and 200 copies of the 2000 GT, a 2-liter taxation special meant mainly for the Italian market. While 1973 was the car's peak year, with 430 built, demand remained steady from the mid-Seventies through the end of production.

Chris Ungaro, of Beacon, New York, long dreamed of living the supercar experience, but thought cars like the Merak were out of his reach financially. It was only when he began looking around 15 years ago that he found he could get a Maserati with some needs for the price of a new Honda Civic. "You know you should buy the best one you can find, because it'll cost you more in the long run if you don't, and I didn't do that," Chris says. "I knew better, but I went with my heart and not my head."

Even though the engine was in pieces, Chris fell for the 1980 Merak SS you see on these pages. One, it had the black exterior and tan interior he loved; two, it was local to him; and three, it was reasonably priced. He figures he's put $50,000 to $60,000 into it, including purchase price, but has no regrets. "I have had it 15 years. A lot of that cost is paid for by my enjoyment of the car." Driving it every chance he gets, he's added 45,000 miles to the odometer.

This is a car that starts the blood pumping even before you climb into the driver's seat, its clean, muscular form hunkered down close to the pavement. Yet getting in can be accomplished without abandoning your dignity; the wide door opening makes it easy to step into the cockpit and settle into the sculpted driver's seat. I take in the same sweep of gauges and switches that Bora pilots enjoyed; it might earn a D in ergonomics, but it gets an A-plus in aesthetics.

Inside or outside, there's no mistaking this car's country of origin. The all-original interior of Chris's car has a hand-assembled quality, and has held up well over the decades, offering a wonderful patina, and the scent of mellowed leather. The cabin isn't at all tight, in spite of the broad console and the low roof. There's not much to see beyond the dashboard, as the nose of the car dips out of sight; I can imagine how, back in 1973, traditionalists would have considered this a backwards step from the long, lovely nose of the Ghibli. Vision out the back is better than you'd think, thanks to the open buttresses.

The engine starts right up with a twist of the key, the mechanical noise of its timing chains blending with the muffled rap of the exhaust. Give it some gas, and the uneven-firing V-6's slight coarseness at low revs begins to smooth out. Chris cautions me that it's easy to beat the five-speed's synchros, and so I take my time shifting up through the gears. The stopwatch will drop nobody's jaw these days, but the acceleration still excites, the addictive song of the engine and the seat's proximity to the pavement making a lasting impression.

The Merak feels solidly built, and in fact it's no lightweight, at nearly 3,000 pounds. Around town, it seems just a bit bulky, with steering and suspension that are distractingly stiff. It's when the road leads out of town and the speed picks up that the car begins to shine. "Above 3,500 RPM, the engine sounds fantastic," Chris says. "At 6,000, it is glorious!" No wonder that his favorite roads are long, curving highways, like New York's Taconic Parkway.

"Everyone talks about a fast car in terms of 0-60, or quarter miles, and a modern car would kill this car. But from 60 to 80, or 70 to 90, that's where this car really is in its sweet spot. Everything kind of comes together around 70-80 MPH: the engine note, the steering feel, the response."

Out of time, our drive ends too soon; the Merak has only begun to show what it's capable of. As I give the keys back to Chris, I do a little mental recalibration. Four decades ago, the Merak, like its big brother, the Bora, showed that a supercar didn't have to be a snarling, hostile, barely civilized beast of a machine--it could be comfortable, and usable, and still excite. That the formula still works today is perhaps the car's best testament.

1980 Maserati Merak SS

Engine DOHC, wet-liner, 90-degree V-6 with aluminum alloy block and cylinder heads

Displacement 2,965 cc (180.9-cu.in.)

Bore x stroke 91.6 mm x 75 mm

Compression ratio 8.75:1

Horsepower @ RPM 182 @ 6,000

Torque @ RPM 180-lb.ft. @ 4,000

Main bearings Four

Fuel system Three Weber 44 DCNF two-barrel carburetors, electric pump

Electrical system 12 volts

Ignition system Bosch electronic

Exhaust system Headers, stainless-steel exhaust

Gearbox Five-speed manual transmission, fully synchronized

Differential Hypoid bevel gears with limited-slip

Steering Rack and pinion, three turns lock-to-lock

Brakes Four-wheel disc, hydraulic with power assist

Chassis and body Steel unit-body

Suspension Front and rear: Independent, A-arms, coil springs, anti-roll bars, telescoping shock absorbers

Wheels Campagnolo cast alloy, 15 x 7.5 inches (Gotti alloys on featured car)

Tires Front: 195/70VR-15; Rear: 215/70VR-15

WEIGHTS & MEASURES

Wheelbase 102.3 inches

Overall length 170 inches

Overall width 69.6 inches

Overall height 44.6 inches

Front track 58 inches

Rear track 58 inches

Curb weight 2,867 pounds

Calculated Data

Hp per liter 61.4

Weight per hp 15.8 pounds

Weight per cu.in. 15.8 pounds

PERFORMANCE

0-60 MPH 9.1 seconds (Road & Track, March 1978)

Top speed 152 MPH (factory claim)

PRICE

Base price (new) $35,120

Market value (today) Low: $43,900 Average: $60,100 High: $88,800

Owner's Story

I've always thought these cars should be used. They're art, but they're really cars, and they're meant to be used.

I just look for places to go, just to take road trips. One year we decided, let's go to Vermont for pancakes, just for an excuse to drive the car. A few years later, we decided to drive to Maine to get some lobsters. We did about 1,000 miles that weekend. On the way home, we got stuck in terrible, terrible traffic, but the car handled it fine.

You hear all the stories about "fix it again, Tony," and how these Italian cars have all these issues, but honestly, it's been a very reliable car. I've never really had many issues, other than the things that are going to break on a 35-year-old car anyway.

Since I was a kid, I have always loved exotic cars. Even though the Merak is not one of the big, 12-cylinder cars, it is beautiful. I have been able to live the dream, and have had a lot of memories and a wonderful time doing so. --Chris Ungaro