Dodge Charger Pursuit Police Package

The appearance of absolute power corrupts absolutely.


August 2012 By DAVID GLUCKMAN Photos By PATRICK M. HOEY

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Driving a police-spec Charger as a civilian isn’t so much about the car as the experience. That’s because it feels and performs like a regular model—we’ve reviewed those in many forms—save for one major distinction: Its performance is almost entirely dictated by its appearance, not the beefed-up chassis or the burly 5.7-liter V-8. You might go faster than normal traffic or slower than normal traffic—but generally, it’s the traffic that decides, one way or another.


Highs
A lot of buttons that control a bunch of cool things, scares anyone with warrants or a guilty conscience—which is to say everyone.




Lows
Doesn’t exactly slip through traffic, some people knew we weren’t real cops, we sometimes forgot we weren’t cops.





If Looks Could Grille
Our Patrol Package #1 test car wore white-over-black graphics, a light bar, A-pillar spot lamps, and black steelies. Any one of those elements is enough to put other drivers on red alert, but together they’re downright intimidating—enough so that most motorists didn’t bother to read the Dodge Law Enforcement marketing-message shields on the doors or take in the huge Dodge windshield banner. The getup was so believable, in fact, that one actual officer of the law gave us a wave as we passed. In his defense, we were traveling in the opposite direction at about 55 mph on a two-lane. Still, we’re assuming he wasn’t a detective.
The kids working the Tim Hortons drive-through gave the car a second look, though, peeking their heads out the window after we ordered. They might have been deciding whether to ready freebies, but they correctly figured us for fakes, and we shelled out 80 cents for our glazed sour-cream doughnut.
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A fake power trip in a Hemi-packing Charger cop car taught us several lessons in motorist psychology as it relates to traffic impedance and reactions to police presence. We could have actively messed with people, but we didn’t. Too much. And not really on purpose.
In thicker highway traffic, approaching a group of cars from behind causes a rolling, sub-70-mph blockade to form instantly. Slip by somehow, and no one passes you, regardless of how fast or slow you’re setting the pace. It’s a strange feeling to drive down an interstate leading a four-abreast wall of traffic like some sort of pied police piper.
It happens in low-traffic situations, too. In one instance, we were trundling along in the right lane at about 70 with cruise engaged when someone in the left lane came barreling up on us. Clearly recognizing the livery—but not noticing that it wasn’t real—the fellow dove in behind us and matched his speed to ours. We formed a two-car convoy just like that until he exited 15 miles later.
You might think the next step would be to speed up and let the trailers be. The problem is that you’ll inevitably catch up with another pack of cars and go through the same routine again. And the clear forward view afforded by the faux-cop livery makes you more watchful than ever for cars wearing real cop livery. The certified-accurate speedometer would make it even tougher to feign ignorance, too. All of it might be stressful, if driving a cop car weren’t such an interesting—and ridiculously fun—experience.
And now we know the temptation the president resists when he sees the Big Red Button. The panel of buttons and switches on the center console was fully functional, activating and cycling through some very bright lights and some very piercing sirens. Using them on the road would have certainly altered traffic patterns. (This dilemma is something like controlling the fate of the world, right?) But if we used any of them, we’d have been meeting the real cops. They were pretty sweet to use in the privacy of our office parking lot, though, and you can really glam up a garage with all lights blazing.
Can You Outrun This?
Test-track performance demonstrated that citizen Charger owners would need only a head start to outrun the copper version. Weighing only marginally more, this 370-horse, Hemi-powered Pursuit model basically matched the numbers put down by a previously tested R/T: 60 mph comes up in 5.2 seconds, the quarter is eclipsed in 13.9 seconds, and top speed is a governed 150 mph. (The 292-hp, 3.6-liter Pentastar V-6 is available for departments watching their bottom lines or in less of a hurry.) It takes 170 feet to stop from 70 mph. There are a few duty-specific performance mods, though. The Pursuit has heftier suspension components, including modified rear spring rates and a set of rear load-leveling dampers—like those available on Chrysler’s minivans—to handle the weight of crime-fighting equipment. Our car was also fitted with the same taller rear-end gears that are included with the R/T���s Road & Track group.
View 30 Photos Other neat details: a column shifter that frees up space for gear between the front seats, a stealthy red interior dome light, and a PA system for the power hungry. Plus, special programming will allow cops—or us, in this case—to leave the engine running and lock the doors without the proximity key inside. We’re not sure why we find that so cool.
In short, playing cop is fun. Impersonating a cop is, of course, illegal—but it’s mighty tempting.

"Are you the cops? No sir we're musicians".....the Blues Brothers