TWO TRICK PONIES

In the late 1960s, the Ford Mustang appeared in both race-homologation Boss and roadgoing special Mach 1 forms, free from impending regulatory restriction

- SIMON HUCKNALL 

This doesn't feel quite right. Like watching an episode of Countryfile with incidental music by Motörhead, wrestling this 1970 Boss Mustang along sinuous roads against a bucolic English. backdrop rankles a little. It's no fault of the car, a more perfect example of which would be hard to find. It's more that the Boss 302's headbanging soundtrack conjures memories of epic car movies - Bullitt, Gone in 60 Seconds (the '74 original, of course) - or even Jim Morrison's part-homage to his beloved GT500, HWY: An American Pastoral. And none of those, as I recall, were set in North Yorkshire.

Then you start to acclimatise to this heavymetal American. Sure, there's no vertiginous urban landscape to get it airborne, or a vast, arid vista to admire from its vinyl Hi-Back bucket seat as you spool through The Doors' songbook in your head. But its unruly appeal fast becomes infectious: just muscle the Hurst shifter into first, watch the Shaker bonnetscoop snap to one side as you stab the throttle and then giggle inanely as the Boss unleashes a torrent of V8 mayhem down the road. It's no sophisticate, but my god is it engrossing.

For the observant among you, this Mustang - a 1969-built, 1970-model-year Boss 302 matches neither McQueen's 1968 390 GT nor 'Toby' Halicki's 1974 Mach 1, which were produced before and after this 1969-'70-series car. But to me they all speak of that magical era, shortly before Detroit's V8s were finally neutered by regulation. Talking of Mach 1s, we also have one joining the Boss today, equipped with a Cleveland 351cu in V8 and automatic transmission: the same series and basic design as the 302 but, as we'll find out, a demonstrably different car to drive.