Honda 27-01 Apr 2026

But the real death of 27-01 was economic. The early ’90s recession had hit Japan hard. The V10’s tooling would have cost as much as the entire NSX program. And the active suspension? Too heavy, too fragile, too expensive . Honda’s board looked at the wreckage of 27-01 and the projected $800,000 (in 1994 dollars) price tag and killed the project.

The story goes that on a cold night in December 1993, the prototype was secretly tested at the Suzuka Circuit’s west course. The test driver, a man known only as “Yama-san,” completed seven laps. On the seventh, a telemetry spike—rear-left actuator failure. The car spun at 130 mph, hitting a tire barrier. Yama-san walked away. The car did not.

Because in 2017, a YouTuber touring a private collection in Chiba, Japan, filmed a brief, 2-second shot of a tarp-covered shape. Under the tarp was a glimpse of a carbon-fiber monocoque and a set of five-lug wheels that match no known Honda production part. The curator muttered a single word before closing the door: “ Nijuunana-ichi .” Twenty-seven-one. honda 27-01

The chassis was reportedly crushed. The V10 engines were detuned, shoved into a drawer, and forgotten. Or so we thought.

The brief, as reconstructed from interviews with retired engineers, was audacious. Mid-engine, yes. But instead of a V6, 27-01 would house a bespoke, 3.5-liter V10. Why a V10? Because Honda’s F1 engineers had just finished studying the life cycle of a V10 crank shaft at 22,000 rpm (in test cells). They wanted a road engine that screamed to 12,000 rpm—a sound described by one witness as “a sheet of titanium being torn in half by an angel.” But the real death of 27-01 was economic

The chassis was carbon fiber, sourced from the same looms that made the MP4/6. But the true innovation was the suspension: a computer-controlled active system that could lean into corners like a motorcycle. The patent for this system (filed January 27, 1991—hence “27-01”?) shows a complex array of hydraulic rams and gyroscopic sensors. It was decades ahead of its time.

Honda 27-01 is the ultimate “what if.” It represents the moment Honda could have beaten the McLaren F1 to the punch, could have invented the active-suspension hypercar a decade before Ferrari. Instead, it remains a phantom—a code name for ambition that was too pure, too expensive, and too early. And the active suspension

To speak of 27-01 is to speak of a moment in time: the early 1990s. Honda was at its peak—dominating Formula 1 with McLaren, selling the NSX to a stunned Ferrari, and perfecting the art of the high-revving engine. But within Honda’s Tochigi R&D center, a secret sub-group, code-named Project 27 , was tasked with something heretical: build a halo car that would make the NSX look conservative.

So what happened to 27-01?

In the annals of automotive history, certain codes become legend: 250 GTO, 959, R34. Others, like Honda 27-01 , remain whispers—ghost codes that haunt the periphery of enthusiast forums and forgotten patent filings. What is 27-01? It is not a production vehicle. It is not a chassis code. It is, I believe, the key to understanding Honda’s most daring road not taken.

The next time you hear a high-revving Honda, listen closely. In the gap between 8,000 and 9,000 rpm, some say you can still hear the ghost of 27-01, screaming into the night, a V10 that never got to sing.