The 1997 Dodge Viper GTS is one of the most iconic American performance cars of the 1990s—a raw, unapologetic powerhouse that combined outrageous styling with track-worthy performance. As the hardtop, coupe version of Dodge’s already brutal RT/10 roadster, the GTS took the Viper’s original formula and refined it just enough to make it faster, more aerodynamic, and slightly more livable—without losing an ounce of its bite.

Styling for the GTS was pure muscle car fantasy brought to life. Its long, vented hood, massive side-exit exhausts, and wide rear haunches gave it a presence that was impossible to ignore. The double-bubble roof, inspired by vintage racing helmets and designed to improve headroom for drivers wearing helmets, became a signature feature. Painted in the now-legendary Viper Blue with dual white racing stripes, the ’97 GTS looked like a Le Mans racer for the street—and that wasn’t far from the truth.

Under the hood sat the beating heart of the Viper: an all-aluminum 8.0-liter V10 engine producing 450 horsepower and 490 lb-ft of torque. Paired with a Tremec 6-speed manual transmission, the GTS could launch from 0–60 mph in just over 4 seconds and blast through the quarter mile in the low 12s. It was loud, hot, and difficult to tame—but utterly exhilarating when driven right.

Unlike the original RT/10, the GTS featured a fixed roof and real side windows, along with air conditioning, a more finished interior, and dual airbags—small nods to civility in an otherwise brutal performance car. Still, there was no traction control, no stability systems, and no ABS. It was entirely up to the driver to keep the Viper pointed in the right direction.

The 1997 GTS also brought improved chassis rigidity and slightly better handling characteristics, making it more capable on the track while maintaining the raw, mechanical feedback that made it such a visceral experience on the road.

Today, the 1997 Dodge Viper GTS is remembered as one of the most iconic American cars of its era—equal parts muscle car and exotic. It was a car that didn’t just challenge European supercars—it scared them. And it did it with brute force, bold style, and zero apologies.