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The 2008 Ford Mustang Bullitt publication doesn't have quad camshafts or forty-eight valves in the chamber heads. There is no turbocharger under the cloak. The Mustang doesn't army an eight speed alike-seize super subsequent spread. The Mustang requests not even one of these things to be exactly what it is - a essentially American machine that's a explosion to need. Driving the modern recapitulation of the Bullitt was a great agreement like driving the '67 Barracuda I pummeled for around the bay area, except nicer and with a five-speed in place of the fusty old Torqueflite. Much nicer. The windows didn't whistle. It had AC. The internal didn't odor like horsehair fittings from ye aged days academy. We didn't even get lost thanks to onboard nav. The exhaust was validly more hushed, but immobile kicked out a great soundtrack. This music was so good that we didn't even turn on the radio set or find the iPod resonant of period-true hits in the fulcrum console. The measurements rule was underfoot. 3500 RPM to the rev controller was the playlist. Each gear was a fresh new track.Out from Fort Mason and past the Safeway illustrious for smart love, we hopped the hind end of the Bullitt over the hill to Geary. The first reply was to turn off planned enterprise and head down to Red'