On the road: Ford Mustang Fastback GT – car review

Over the past 10 years, much of my driving has been done in America. I’ve driven roads that run the length of the Mississippi, beside railways, through cotton fields, over the Smoky Mountains.

These drives have always found me at my happiest. In the saddest, bleakest moments they have restored me to myself. There’s such a bond between America and the automobile, some of which is to do with individualism, and a lack of decent public transport, and, of course, sheer space – the simple pleasure of driving wide, straight roads. Some of it is to do with the mythology of both driving and the American car, this land of drive-ins and drive-thrus, gas stations, truck stops, cheap motels; the miles bound with the feeling that here is a land where you can truly get lost.

A few weeks ago I drove a 1965 Ford Mustang from San Francisco to Los Angeles, and then out to the Mojave desert. The Mustang was introduced in 1964, and its popularity (it sold 100,000 in the first three months alone) inspired the Pony Car revolution – the craze for cheap, stylish, sporty cars that also spawned the Chevrolet Camaro and the Pontiac Firebird, among many others.

My Mustang is one of the first generation, a Fastback GT restored and refitted by Blacktop Candy’s, a company that specialises in American classic car hire for lengthy road trips. This Mustang usually travels Route 66, navigated by a pre-programmed GPS. While it still looks like the original Mustang, its interior has been upgraded, so that it now has automatic gears, air conditioning, seat belts and power disc brakes.

She is a beautiful thing to drive. It’s hard to describe the pure, simple pleasure of her steering wheel beneath your hands – broad, wooden, wholly different to the thin, light feel of most modern steering wheels. And she loves corners, hugging them closely, dearly, but without effort.

A car like this takes energy to drive. The retrofit is highly impressive, though there are quirks – the lack of room between the firewall and the shock tower leaves very little space for a power brake booster, which means you have to learn to brake hard (very hard when negotiating the slopes of San Francisco and the curves of Big Sur).

You also have to keep a more vigilant eye on the gauges than with a modern car – she guzzles petrol (around 15 to 16 miles to the gallon), and her temperature can rise steeply. She also emits a deep-throated rattle wherever she goes.

You’ll need a certain amount of stamina to shoulder the attention she gets – huge smiles of approval, thumbs up, waves, beeped horns, offers to buy; and (at least for the female driver) a large number of men who, instead of expressing their admiration, take to dispensing advice whenever you stop to refuel.

It is out in the desert that she really comes alive. We lie the back seats down flat, the better to let her speakers roar, and roll down the windows to let the warm air in. I don’t know if I have ever felt happier at the wheel of a car, my friend in the passenger seat, the warmth of the engine wrapping round our ankles, and the night lying open before us.

Ford Mustang Fastback

Rental price $249 (£158) a day

On the stereo Bruce Springsteen, Born To Run