Recent Articles
A Day in the Life of a Ferrari 458 Italia
by Gunnar Heinrich ::: img via YouTube ::: Ferrari 458 Italia
SOME people live for this $#!T.
I’m not sure how or why, really. It’s the soprano bray of yet another Ferrari exhaust that falls short of registering the auto’s Italian aria on your PC’s speakers via compressed streaming video.
This video, if it’s honest, is third party stalker spy footage shot by some Dutch Volvo drivers who really do like their Italian hot metal.
And with nearly 300K views, a small but significant sample of the Petrolhead Party hath spoken for the wider whole.
We love (apparently) watching a video of some random guy drive a new Ferrari down the road at pedestrian speeds – stopping by the garage, the supermarket, the laundromat, the Five ‘n Dime, etc. Short of driving the car ourselves, that is.
Was that a burble I just heard?
Here it is – the Ferrari 458 Italia in all its suburban, if élite glory.
Enjoy!
Read: Velocity Supercar Revolution
by Gunnar Heinrich ::: img Motorbooks ::: Velocity Supercar Revolution
“I don’t know what you’re up to, but stop it.”
This imperative suggests a desist notice to any number of, um, wanton activities. But in this instance which Road & Track alumnus John Lamm retells in Velocity Supercar Revolution, it was a state cop telling one of R&T’s editors to quit playing with a Lamborghini Countach on public roads.
Kill joy.
This one tale encapsulates what Mr. Lamm’s bold hardcover’s all about – the stories behind the very supercars that so many of have come to idolize through the years.
In Velocity Supercar Revolution, designers, collectors, industrialists, and, of course, journalists all weigh in on the most elaborate and impractical autos of the post war era – from the 70s Maserati Bora to the 2006 Z06 Vette and much rolling stock in between.
Chris Bangle even offers his two cents.
On page 19, Jay Leno shares one harrowing account of an afternoon with his Lamborghini Miura.
“I was driving my Miura one day and I looked in the rearview mirror and I go, ‘It’s raining…damn.’ Then I looked out the front and it’s not raining the front. I realized what had happened was that one of the carburetor hoses had popped off and was spraying the rear window with gas. I pulled over, opened the back and heard ‘ping…ping…ping’ as gas hit the exhaust manifold. All I’ve got is this stupid little Haylon fire extinguisher. Luckily the car didn’t start on fire. People just don’t have those sorts of adventures anymore.”
Mr. Lamm threads a narrative from the 70s to the 80s, 90s, and 2000s that points to a special few car manufacturers who’ve been at pains to outdo themselves all these years.
Velocity Supercar Revolution, shows not so much a revolution but an evolution as top speeds, 0-60s, and world records are broken with each succeeding decade.
Considering the years of environmental lobbying and economic crises, that these wildly flamboyant, utterly impracticable, but ultimately special cars inhabit the same democratic asphalt as the world’s Highway Patrol officers, stands as the real revolution.
Velocity Supercar Revolution by John Lamm. Published by Motorbooks.
Ed. note: Motorbooks provided the writer (yours truly) with a copy of this text.
Review: 2010 Cadillac CTS Sport Wagon
“THAT’S a nice Cadillac.”
The black gentleman, mid-30s, gazed on astonished. He fixed intently on the 2010 Cadillac CTS sport wagon, a foray into heretofore unestablished territory for the marque to bear the “standard of the world.”
Remembering that no one believed the XLR-V cost $103,000 ($45K was the highest ballpark I’d get from a passerby), I asked this gent who was waiting for his own Dodge Charger wagon to emerge from the car wash on 138th Street in Queens, what he thought this Cadillac cost.
“Forty-five.” He said without hesitation.
In point of fact, the Sport Wagon starts at $38,265 in the States, though our test vehicle was closer to $50K.
“Would you pay sixty?” I asked, nodding toward the jet black over black CTS, whose xenon discharge lamps flickered through the mist of suds and spray.
“No,” again without a moment’s pause, “For sixty, you could get an Escalade.” The man was beaming.
In each Cadillac review, I’ve always gotten a feeling that the American public at large has this bond with Motown’s best brand. Of course, disparaging cynics will say that as tax payers, we’ve all got a vested interest in “Government Motors” – but – truly, more than any other car this side of a Ferrari, new Cadillacs fascinate.
Without beating about the bush, I’d say that onlookers’ uncanny interest – immediate and compelling – has everything to do with Cadillac designers getting it so right.
The CTS sports wagon is an example where Cadillac sought to cater to a niche but executed the product in a way that carried forward the sedan’s smart, business persona.
What we’re given is the first station wagon ever to look like it’s expressly made for men without hulking as if on steroids. Those cleaved edges, that high shoulder line, those broad wheel arcs, gorgeous aluminum 18″ rims and tall LED taillights bring purpose that telegraphs boardroom power more than PTA meetings.
Though, I think the taillights might owe some credit to the Volvo 850.
I asked Cadillac rep. David Caldwell who Team Cadillac saw as the CTS sport wagon’s typical driver.
“Most of these buyers are primarily luxury or sport sedan owners, or previous wagon owners. These are drivers who value driving dynamics of a lux/sport car primarily, but also have lifestyle needs for some cargo carrying space. [He/She] tends to be a very sophisticated and elite buyer, which is a key reason why we’ve chosen to develop our Sport Wagon. It elevates our brand to an extent, even though this is a market niche in the US currently.”
Mr. Caldwell went on to write that Cadillac sells a few hundred sport wagons per month in North America and the bulk or 75% of wagons sold are outfitted with all-wheel drive.
Our test vehicle was rear wheel drive, which in light of the blizzards that hit the Northeast in February, proved to be an interesting option. Luckily, the car was fitted with a fairly non-intrusive stability control program and Bridgestone Blizzaks on all four corners.
In days when the roads were dry, it was more possible to safely determine the “sport” extent in “Sport Wagon”. Needless to say, this proved a disappointment.
Much as I’d remembered in the CTS sedan test back in 2008, the same direct-injection 304 hp V6 lacked teeth thanks to a dithering six cog auto and an anemic powerplant whose maximum 273 pounds feet of torque happened at a lofty 5200rpm.
There’s no combination of Sport-mode or button-shifting yourself that can make the CTS Sports Wagon more responsive. Worse, the suspension does little to keep lean, yaw, and pitch in check during hard cornering nor especially planted at triple digit velocities.
Cadillac need only look to the tremendous Pontiac G8 GT to find a GM built car whose driving dynamics could provide the bridge template between the base CTS and the exceptionally potent CTS-V. The Pontiac’s powertrain proved far more responsive and the car’s rear wheel drive handling dynamics were tighter and far safer; being less prone to plodding understeer.
So, essentially, the CTS Sports Wagon would be better suited if pinned with the label “Luxury Wagon”. Pop-up GPS, Bose audio system, heated and cooled front seats, panorama moonroof, OnStar, indash CD, MP3, power liftgate, backup camera, adaptive headlights that corner according to the wheel position – the list of amenities was comprehensive and competitive.
The fit, finish, and materials were all of respectable grade (Caddy’s made long strides) if still not quite up to par with ze Germans, though, the Sapele wood trim was especially handsome.
Where does this leave us? Or more appropriately, the CTS Sport Wagon? In character, the CTS is a city slicker, a metro area only kind of ride – particularly in that smart shade of black in which the Caddy simply pops.
Does it match up with all those conservative New Englanders who view their vintage Mercedes diesel wagons, Volvo V70s, and Audi Quattros with such vaunted esteem? Not really, I don’t see much cross-shopping.
But for an entirely new customer, one inhabiting New York’s five boroughs perhaps, who wants wagon versatility -sans SUV height and weight – and the sleek edge and professionalism of a chalk stripe suit on wheels, the CTS Sport Wagon is a new cut from whole cloth.
“With a car like that,” the guy at the car wash marveled, “America could really come back. Our car industry. We could really comeback with a car like that.”
North by Northwest & Mercedes-Benz
by Gunnar Heinrich ::: img MGM/Turner via IMCDB ::: North by Northwest Mercedes-Benz 220SE carbiolet
HITCHCOCK’S North by Northwest (1958) is another one of the master’s suspenseful classics that makes superb use of period automobiles as the “vehicles” of plot driven suspense.
The film’s dialogue between Cary Grant’s character (Roger Thornhill) and a slyly evil North Shore hostess also serves as a kind of linguistics key of the day: the characters pronouncing “Mercedes” as MEHR-SE-DES instead of today’s more commonplace, MUR-SAY-DEEZ.
Commercially, Hitchcock’s use of cars must’ve gone over well with MGM execs.
The Mercedes-Benz 220SE carbio was featured in the now-iconic drunk driving chase sequence along the Long Island coast and Benz found double mention in dialogue in a subsequent scene.
Roger Thornhill vainly attempts to confront the evil hostess (”Woman” per script) in her home before incredulous detectives and Thornhill’s own unmoved mother, Mrs. Thornhill.
Hitchcock and writer Ernest Lehman waste no time in developing the plot while weaving Mercedes into the story with expertise.
Mercedes mentioned twice too much? Nah. In the context of heated conversation, the double play works beautifully.
Mercedes-Benz, Cadillac, Edsel, Chevrolet, Pontiac, Lincoln, Jaguar, and even a Freightliner truck all find screentime and purpose in the film; though Cadillac and Mercedes feature most prominently in action scenes.
That said, the Daimler-Benz co. did enjoy a slick sleight of hand when during the finale of Thornhill’s drunken escape by Benz, a three car pileup ensues leaving the 220SE miraculously unscathed.
German solidity v. American tin? Nein. Bumper extension.
Test Drive @ Miller Motorcars: Aston Martin Rapide
by Gunnar Heinrich ::: Miller Motorcars Greenwich ::: 2010 Aston Martin Rapide
KARIM Bejjih has been at this all day.
“We’ve had two people get tickets already,” he notes, keeping the Aston well within the speed limit.
It’s Saturday afternoon and Miller Motorcars has sent out a mass invite to sample the 2010 Aston Martin Rapide. Appointment blocks are 30 minutes and ours is at 1PM. Thanks to traffic, we show at 1:14.
Patiently, Karim greets us. His speech pattern registers low and level and his manner’s neutral in a way that’s surprising for a man in his forward-leaning profession.
He drives us off the lot and into Greenwich, Connecticut – a tightly packed suburban community sandwiched between two highways (I-95 and the Merritt Parkway) a secondary road (Rte 1) and Amtrak/MetroNorth rail lines that all run parallel to Long Island Sound towards New York.
The town’s crowded interplay between commercial and residential zoning means that even narrow, twisting back roads that cut through forest see constant traffic.
Cutting north into the hills, we approach a slight right-hand bend that leads into a Y-intersection – all clear.
Karim gives notice that he’s going to take the turn abruptly so that we can get a sense of the Rapide’s “balance.”
In goes throttle, velvet V12 music plays through twin exhausts, here comes the turn, metallic door handle is clasped, Karim spins the wheel right, and – we’re through to the adjoining road.
He’s smiling. And so are we.
These are the perks of being an Aston Martin “sales specialist”.
It’s a vocation more than a job, and as an automotive enthusiast it seldom gets old. Karim’s worked for Miller for four years and, yes, he gets a company car.
Karim pulls over so that Schnookums can get wheel time. She takes us through hill and dale; enjoying the sensation of piloting a four door coupe that’s longer than an M6 but surprisingly lower, tighter, and much more in-sync with the road.
Conversation is limited and stays centered on the Rapide. We’re here to experience the machine and Karim’s job is to let the Aston do the talking.
My turn.
Ingress & egress are a little tricky in this coupé
I’m gentle at first – registering the feel of the small leather bound helm. I’m peering out from a cabin where a low suede headliner meets an even lower windshield that overlooks (again) a low, long bonnet.
We’re entirely encapsulated in exotic richness – it’s our own cavern of firm hides and the right amount woods and visual technologies (the pop-up GPS stays stashed under Tamo Ash panel). In essence, it’s more Maserati than Bentley.
I ask if anyone else has made any association between the Rapide and the Lagonda. Karim chuckles, “No.” He remembers how much trouble Aston’s first four-door gave customers. That said, he marveled at the uniqueness of the old concept.
We’re taking turns a bit faster now and helm feedback registers more Porsche 911 (danke, herr doktor) than big British GT. The go pedal feels very odd under foot and even odder when, after planting it – for one MISSISSIPPI – nothing at all happens.
The 470hp V12 builds speed briskly and the auto shifts smartly but with a starting weight of 4,300 lbs plus three adult occupants, you can’t help but feel as though the engine’s a little taxed.
The Aston’s V12 produced not the violent, raucous V8 or V10 surge of an AMG Benz or M Bimmer, but rather the smooth application of silken power.
I comment on how all cars seem to be heavy nowadays and Karim agrees. I flash on the surprising litheness of the e32 and e38 7-series.
Our test drive ends just as quickly as it began.
“We’ll be getting our own demo soon,” Karim says. “If you come back, we’ll spend a longer time with the car.”
Judging by the commendable sales experience – gladly.
Audi’s Pre-Giuliani Tour of New York, New York
by Gunnar Heinrich ::: img via YouTube ::: Audi 90 TV advert
SMUG doesn’t quite fit. Über smug, perhaps?
On the heels of the truly disasterous Eighties – a decade fraught with unintended acceleration and much fiscal heartache, there’s something personal in this Audi commercial’s jab at “costly lawsuits” and snide quips about the City’s motto, “If you can make it here, you can make it anywhere.”
Aimed squarely at the US analog TV sets, the minute long spot pitching the Audi 90 was a product of its time. Which is to say it pre-dates Giuliani’s shake down of the NYC’s army of curbside window washers (circa 1990) and white-washed Times Square.
Perhaps we were less easily offended when a commercial took shots at cartoonish stereotypes (Foul mouthed grandmothers? Fat Mets fan gorging on burger?).
I wonder how many New Yorkers were moved to shop Audi following this spot? Not many, me thinks. But then again, it probably got rave reviews in Beantown.