To wrestle this wild reptile, first you climb through the window, clamp yourself in with a five-point harness, and cinch the chinstrap on a crash helmet with a Darth Vader breathing tube to keep out the choking dust. After you fire up the 780hp small-block and stomp on the go-pedal, you'd better hang on tight because blasting across the desert feels like a non-stop crash. It's all too loud, too hot, too fast--and too much fun. It's like riding a nuclear-powered roller coaster headed for critical mass. You launch off hilltops at freeway speeds, floating for an impossibly long moment while awaiting the inevitable landing on hard-packed sand Actually, jumping is the easy part. It's the 100-mph sprints, skipping like a stone over the rutted, gnarly terrain that are frightening and exhilarating at the same time. The ride is not unlike that of an offshore boat running at full throttle in the open ocean, jumping from one swell to the next. Only thing is, the sun-baked desert floor doesn't cushion the landing.