The Richter Treatment - 1994 Ford Escort RS Cosworth

Externals, though, are the jaw-dropper. The Richter folks clad the RS with their magnificent, all carbon-fiber WRC body kit. The effect is simultaneously dramatic and subtle. Fenders front and rear display just the right amount of Euro-buff to suggest that this Hans-und-Franz rally car is absolutely ready "to pump you up." An elaborate front air dam juts and protrudes defiantly like a prognathous lower jaw. Meanwhile, discreet, twin-projector conversion headlamps wink coyly at passerby from either side of the wire-cloth mesh grille.

Only that big box-section of a rear wing assembly makes any kind of flamboyant gesture at all. But in motion, the overall package showcases its proportioned, potent profile. The RS is pert and snub-nosed, with a fetching, kicked-up rear-end that lives to tease. Those gorgeous, thin-skinned wheels cram their respective wheel wells, yet they only begin to hint at the monster-stomp of which they're only too capable.

Ride RageBy contrast, the interior of the Escort RS Cosworth is remarkably understated. Knig sport seats accent an otherwise utilitarian layout equipped with a collection of standard creature comforts. These include HVAC, premium factory sound, power windows and mirrors and a sunroof. Only the shifter, competition-style white-faced gauges and molded, leather-wrapped steering wheel telegraph any clues at all about this Cosworth's considerable outlaw potential.

One's view of the world changes dramatically, however, after the mundane sequence of key...twist...ignite. The Mongoose out back barks to life; the T4 whistles itself awake in anticipation of another happy day's work. Around town, at stop-'n'-go commuter speeds, the Escort RS Cosworth is remarkably compliant, forgiving even. There's none of the buck and fuss you'd typically expect from a high-strung warhorse cooped up in a rush-hour herd of hack-ponies and wagon mules. But then, at suburb's edge, the traffic thins. Temptation taunts. You're all for planting your foot in it. And you do: It's one and two and... KERBLAM! That big Garrett blow-hard has finally filled its lungs to the bursting point before exploding in a 400 hp banshee wail of road-ripping, tire-shredding exultation.

No, you're definitely not in Kansas anymore. Welcome to the WRC. Now you know what it feels like to wrestle with so much power appearing so fast that a mere quartet of wheels and tires can scarcely manage to keep up with it. Talk about four-wheel drift. If you're not absolutely, positively precise about what you're doing behind the wheel of this RS Cosworth, you'll be drifting forwards, sideways and backwards before even one wheels manages to hook up properly. Quite sincerely, the most sensitive instrument in this entire Cosworth package is the five-toed knob o' bones at the end of your right leg.

Throttle control is everything-or nothing-in the quest to tame this savage beast. At 29 psi of boost, turbo lag is blatant and unforgiving. That's precisely why, in cars like this, so much competitive technique is devoted to left-foot braking when trying to exploit the perverse nature of high-boost turbo-power on the race track or at the rally course. While the right foot is playing the accelerator like a violin, trying to keep revs within striking distance of the excruciatingly peaky powerband, the left foot is clutching and braking for all it's worth, trying to keep car-and-driver within the safe cornering limits of the suspension and tires. Driving the RS Cosworth at its utmost limit is no joy ride; it's not even a workout. It's a life-and-death thrash that requires total concentration, almost supernatural instincts and maybe even some luck.

But if you back off these limits even for a bit, you'll be surprised to find what an exemplary citizen the Escort RS Cosworth can be within the performance community. It's hard, for instance, not to be impressed with The Richter Treatment this car has received. And as a one-of-a-kind ambassador to North America from the wider world of rally racing, it's especially appropriate-even tasteful-that its styling is decorous and suggestive rather than cheeky and arrogant. After all, it's inevitable that WRC-style supercar performance will eventually make a successful invasion of our shores. Cars like the Ford/Richter Escort RS Cosworth remind us that you only get one chance to make a good first impression. OK, enough already. We are impressed. Let the invasion begin.