The Overtake

On Showing Off

2010-02-24T23:14:00.000-08:00

Why do we insist on showing off so much?

On my walk home, there’s a 3-way stop. Today, there was a dark green 4^th generation Camaro V6 at the intersection. It had been snowing and the streets were slick. Taking advantage of the favorable conditions, the driver dropped the hammer, spinning the rear tires not only across the intersection but also down the street at out of sight. Those of us standing at the intersection were left with the smell of oil burning our nostrils and the clatter of the engine ringing in our ears.

Such a display is always intended for an audience. However, the driver was alone, and none of us were particularly impressed. I imagine the spectacle was for the benefit of the driver himself. But to what purpose? Why does he, and everyone else for that matter, feel the need to make such a ruckus?

As I understand it, we show off in an effort to assert our individuality, to distinguish ourselves from the crowd. We do it to demonstrate uniqueness to ourselves as well as others. The desire for unique identity is healthy and common. In this context, showing off is a good thing, so long as it’s done wisely.

Being an obnoxious show-off might feel good in the moment, but you won’t win any points with anyone else. What did the gentleman in the Camaro really demonstrate? That his weak-kneed pile of scrap can only manage a burn-out when the road is paved with ice. And that he's horribly reckless. When you show off, you’d better do it tastefully.

Now, I’ve tried to think of the redeeming qualities of that Camaro, but there aren’t any. So the only thing to do is to get rid of it and spend the money on a respectable car. For the same money you can find a good first generation Ford Taurus SHO. You won’t pick up any girls with it, but it’s one of the most affordable and genuinely special performance cars around. For a bit more coin you can get a nice Ford Focus SVT, one of my very favorite hot hatches of all time.

With either of these cars, and a bit of talent, you can humiliate posers in tarted-up Civics all day long. And that’s something to shout about.

2010-02-13T19:31:00.001-08:00

HK4JJFP8ZU3W

Why I don't care about the new Ferrari

2010-02-02T23:08:00.000-08:00

What good is Everest?

I am a very adventurous sort of person. Few things capture my imagination like a journey through unfamiliar territory and cultures. I love the sense of discovery and awe that a really good adventure provokes. Climbing Everest is about the greatest adventure I can think of, it’s one of those things I’ve always wanted to do. The trouble is, such an excursion is outside the physical and financial means of almost everyone. So what good is it? I ought to spend my energy climbing the peaks in my own back yard.

The Ferrari 458 Italia is the same.

The new Ferrari is positively astounding. It has 557 hp from a thoroughly modern 4.5-liter direct injected V8 that spins to 9,000 rpm. It has a 7-speed dual clutch automated manual transmission that deploys gearshifts in 50 milliseconds flat. The body is designed to produce down-force that perfectly matches the natural weight distribution of the car so that the driving dynamics never change, at any speed. And it’s got an E-diff3, whatever that is.

Furthermore, the car is simply amazing to look at, inside and out. It’s just shockingly beautiful.

In summary, the Ferrari 458 is the stunning new standard for supercars everywhere. And somehow, I just don’t care.

Here’s the reason. As a common car enthusiast, how does the new 458 impact my life? How is my passion for driving great cars satisfied? Except for giving me something new to covet, the 458 really doesn’t do anything for me. Yes, it’s an amazing machine, but at $213,000 it had better be. And the chances that I’ll ever own one are microscopic. So what difference does it make?

I’m much more impressed with the vehicles that manage to capture that same passion (albeit, without the mind-bending speed) at a price that is accessible to the rest of us. These are the cars I care about most, because they make a difference to you and I. So long as there are great, affordable cars in the world, I really don’t mind living without a Ferrari.

To that end, I’ve compiled a list of my favorites. I’ve limited the price of entry to $40,000 and I’ve made an attempt to put them in the order of my preference. My choices will likely confuse many of you, and yes, I know the new drivetrains for the 2011 Mustang haven't been tested yet. I welcome your inquiries.

With that, from worst to best, they are:

21. Dodge SRT-4

20. Nissan Sentra SE-R Spec V

19. Mitsubishi Lancer Ralliart

18. Hyundai Genesis Coupe 2.0T

17. Honda Civic Si

16. Subaru WRX STI

15. Mazda RX-8

14. Subaru WRX

13. Mazda MX-5 Miata

12. Mini Cooper S

11. Chevrolet Camaro RS

10. Hyundai Genesis Coupe V6

9. Volkswagen GTI

8. MazdaSpeed 3

7. Ford Mustang 3.7L V6

6. Chevrolet Cobalt SS

5. Mitsubishi Evolution GSR

4. Dodge Challenger R/T

3. Chevrolet Camaro SS

2. Nissan 370Z

1. Ford Mustang GT 5.0

Bring Back The Geo Tracker

2009-12-17T12:03:00.000-08:00

The Geo Tracker is the greatest off-road vehicle of all time.

Alright, that might be hyperbole, but I sure wish they still made it, and I’ll tell you why.

The Tracker is everything I wish the Jeep Wrangler was. The Jeep looks great and I’m absolutely in love with removable hard tops, doors, everything. But it weighs as much as a house and the engine is simply pitiful.

Most cars strike a balance between power and efficiency, you can’t get one except at the expense of the other. A few special cars manage to have both. But the Jeep? It performs the unlikely feat of having neither. 202 hp and a whole 19 mpg on the highway is just stupid. Full-size V8 pickups get better than that.

Then there’s the Tracker. The first generation car was developed in 1988 between GM and Suzuki. It was built on a light truck frame, had proper 4-wheel drive with manually locking front hubs and a 5-speed manual. It had two doors, a removable top, and a 1.6 liter Suzuki 4-cylinder good for 80 hp. No, that isn’t very much, but it's plenty if you’re not in a hurry. Plus the engine only had 2200 lbs of car to pull around. That means about 27 ^lbs/_hp , not that far off the 21 ^lbs/_hp a new Wrangler gives you. And the Tracker gets 25 city/27 hwy.

That’s brilliant. So why don’t they build it anymore?

Rocket Ship Cobalt SS

2009-12-15T20:11:00.000-08:00

“She may not look like much, but she’s got it where it counts.”

-Han Solo

I love good sport compacts. Affordable motoring thrills with minimal day-to-day compromises. The world has yet to produce my ideal sport compact, but the Chevy Cobalt SS comes awfully close.

The Volkswagen GTI is a very fine automobile and a lot of fun to drive, but the Cobalt SS plays power games on a completely different scale. The brilliant 2-liter turbo engine delivers instant power at any point on the tachometer. The clutch and shifter are simple and joyous to use. The steering is so linear, so spot on, and the suspension is so planted. The GTI is fast enough to be fun, but the Cobalt SS is fast enough to be just a little scary. I happen to like it that way.

Put the car into Competitive Mode and it gets even better. What surprised me most was how much more satisfying first and second gears are in Competitive Mode. I don’t know how, but it makes such a difference. It should be like that all the time.

And while I’m thinking about possible improvements, the car makes the most peculiar combination of engine noises. The exhaust gets very deep, almost like a diesel, while the turbo spoon is nearly ultrasonic. It isn’t bad, just peculiar. And you’d better be awake when you launch it, otherwise you’ll torque-steer into a tree. But all that just adds character.

Now, there are those who mock the Cobalt’s styling. Personally, I think it looks great. I’m a big fan of the restrained look. Keeps the cops away.

Then there are those who jeer at the interior build quality. Well, they’re right. It all works fine, but it’s all bottom shelf plastics too. The handbrake is especially bad. The pieces on the dash don’t all fit together right and the door handles and window switches are exceptionally flimsy. At least it’ll train me to be more gentle.

But once the traffic clears and my feet prod the pedals, all of that goes away. As automobiles go, the Cobalt SS isn’t a very complete package, it’s too focused for that. This isn’t a car I would recommend to just anyone. This car is for people who value the thrill of driving above everything else. To me, that’s all that matters. I positively love it.

The Volt Dance

2009-12-15T16:02:00.000-08:00

Have you seen it?

It’s embarrassing, it’s shameful, and I wouldn’t watch it where anyone could see. It’s truly horrible and yet I watched it through to the end, like an episode of Stargate Universe.

In one of the worst marketing and PR moves I can remember, Chevy has apparently endorsed a Chevy Volt themed pop song and choreography to match. I don’t know who is responsible for allowing this to happen, but they need to know what a joke it is.

Honestly, the best thing Chevy can hope for is that no one else will see it, ever. Bury it in the back yard like a dark family secret. Please tell me this atrocity isn’t getting network television or radio time.

I like Chevy, I really do. I want them to succeed and, for the most part, it looks like they will. But it’s so hard to be a supporter when crap like this hits the fan.

Chevy: You don’t need these gimmicks, they are an insult to your products and the intelligence of your customers. All you need are great vehicles and customer service. We’ll do the rest.

Tesla: A Beautiful Dream

2009-12-04T11:18:00.000-08:00

I was out for a drive on a favorite back road. It was a good day. Then it got better. A red Tesla Roadster appeared around a corner and shot silently past. I smiled and gave the driver a thumbs up. Not because of what the Tesla is, but what it represents.

I care about the environment and I know the old ways of building cars aren’t acceptable anymore. I care about the modern world’s absolute reliance on oil.

I am a geologist by training, I have a pretty good idea of the impact fossil fuels have on the environment and their role in the future. I can tell you right now it will be a long, long time before we stop using them altogether. But I believe strongly in the development of alternative energy resources that are environmentally responsible and, here’s the kicker, economically feasible.

I also believe in the development of electric vehicles. Battery powered electric vehicle technology still has a long way to go. Hydrogen fuel cell technology has problems too. But increased interest and research will yield new innovations, I’m certain of that. I also believe in a passion for driving and fine automobiles.

That’s what Tesla stands for. The company has set out to demonstrate that electric vehicles can still be exhilarating. That’s something I believe in strongly.

In reality, the Roadster has some dynamic and mechanical problems. And the company would have gone bankrupt a while ago were it not for the indulgence of the federal government.

It reality, Tesla has a lot of work to do before its business model, or car, works properly. But it’s a beautiful dream and it’s a good place to start.

But I don’t want to like the Mustang…

2009-12-03T20:19:00.000-08:00

The 2011 Mustang is causing me a personal crisis.

I was raised on muscle cars, and I was planted firmly in the GM camp. I loved Chevelles, 442’s, Camaros, Firebirds, GSX’s and I would spit upon Mustangs and Torinos. Mopars were alright, but so expensive.

To this day I remain a strong GM supporter. This is neatly complimented by my disdain for the Mustang.

I’ve always hated it. I hate it because everybody else loves it so much. It was always about the style and glamour, and that’s why the masses love it. But under the pretty skin was an archaic ox-cart that was never competitive on the world stage. Sure it was fun, but so is a stick and something to whack with it.

But now everything’s gone horribly wrong. The Mustang looks better than ever, and worse than that, it’s actually a good car now. The revised 2010 car had a vastly improved interior and the suspension, while still outdated, was remarkably well sorted.

Despite this, I felt justified in my hatred because the powertrain was left untouched and, therefore, was still awful. There wasn’t anything wrong with the 4.6 liter V8, but 315 hp from an engine that size isn’t impressive anymore. The real problem was the V6, a monstrous 4 liter that only managed 210 anemic horses and still sucked gas.

But now my last stronghold has been taken by storm. The 2011 Mustang comes with a 305 hp 3.7 liter V6 and duel exhaust standard. Furthermore, new 6-speed automatic and manual transmissions are coming with all trim levels.

This is wonderful news. Except for one thing. I haven’t got any reasons left for hating it.

Where The Aztek Went Wrong

2009-12-01T23:39:00.000-08:00

All this time I thought the Aztek was too ugly to succeed, but nothing could be further from the truth.

So the Pontiac Aztek has been the embarrassment of GM for a long time. In hindsight, it was as terrible an idea as the time I took an evening calculus class. There was never any chance for success. But I saw one today and I had an epiphany.

The problem with the Aztek was never the design. Sure it’s as ugly as Rodney Dangerfield but that never stopped him.

The problem was marketing. The Aztek was marketed to young people with active, adventure-seeking lifestyles. Trouble is, the Aztek fell apart if the driver even looked at a dirt track. The engineers knew this and thoughtfully provided a tent to sleep in while stranded on the side of the road.

Also, young people don’t want to drive willfully offensive looking cars.

The trick is to associate the ugliness with a desirable quality. And we are all witness to this.

Look at a Prius. Don’t think about it, just look. It’s really no aesthetic masterpiece, is it? But we are so saturated with “green” propaganda that we are conditioned to desire this ugliness.

And that’s what stopped me in my tracks this afternoon. The car was an Aztek, but in my mind I saw the inevitable Prius Crossover. You know it’s only a matter of time. And when that time comes, believe it or not, the Aztek will start to look good.

A Huge Mistake

2009-11-26T11:30:00.000-08:00

I've made a huge mistake.

"Cool Car of the Day" is entirely the wrong name for this, and not just because it's trite. The purpose of this segment is to comment on vehicles that catch my eye and get me thinking. That does not mean the car itself is reliably cool. Take today's car, the Lexus ISF.

The ISF isn't cool. For a Lexus it is alarmingly vulgar. Typical of Lexus, it is rather embarrassing. I agree the Lexus brand is in desperate need of livening up and that a world-class sport sedan is great way to do it. It's a shame they botched the job.

Dynamically, the car works just fine. It has a big V8 in the front, drive wheels in the back, and all the chassis, brakes and computers you need to keep from killing yourself in it. But honestly, how many Lexus ISF customers are going to be bombing around at 10/10^ths? Anyone who takes driving that seriously will put their money towards a better sorted sport sedan. The ISF will function just the same as any other Lexus, as a status symbol and little more.

Too bad that's where this car really falls on it's face. It just isn't that good to look at. The standard IS is far prettier. All the racy bits of body work look tacked on... because they are. Those ostentatious quad exhaust pipes aren't even functional.

As a whole, then, this car really is a mess. But I really can't hold it against them, they aren't the only ones to have made a huge mistake.

Cool Car Of The Day: CCOTD

2009-11-20T17:24:00.000-08:00

I've been meaning to start this segment for ages. I haven't started it before now because I am (A) lazy and (B) busy doing a lot of writing for my new job. I write webpages for a nation-wide marketing company. I greatly enjoy it, I am learning a ton of valuable skills, but I'm rather tired of writing by the end of my day.

On my way home today I saw a car that made me commit to finally get this started. A DeLorean DMC-12. This is one of the finest examples of a car that is objectively terrible yet subjectively wonderful. I would never want to own one, but I'd love to have a buddy who did.

That car is all about style and a vision of the future of motoring. It doesn't matter that the company went bankrupt in record time or that the car itself hits 60 mph in the same time as a Prius. The DMC-12 dared to be radical, that alone deserves respect.

Would anyone remember the DeLorean if it weren't for Back to the Future? Probably not. Just goes to show how much good the film business can do.

Wretched Cars: Lost Opportunity

2009-10-01T22:54:00.000-07:00

Every car you see on the road began as a blank canvas, an opportunity for greatness. It’s the same opportunity that exists before a musician writes a song, before a surgeon performs a bypass, even before a janitor cleans an office building. I believe greatness in life is defined not by the things we do, but by the way we do them. No matter what it is you choose to do, I firmly believe in doing it excellently. Regrettably, a lot of opportunity goes unrealized. I’ve wasted opportunities of my own. When I was young I had a guitar, and I learned to play exactly one song on it. I ought to learn to make better use of my opportunities, and the auto makers should do the same.

The development of an automobile is comprised of countless hours from engineers, designers, marketers, accountants, and others. The costs involved are enormous and the commitment is substantial. The image of the brand is entangled with the that of the car for its entire production and as long afterwards as anyone can remember it. Car manufacturers play for high stakes, and with only a handful of new models introduced in a year, you would think they would choose their cards carefully.

And yet so many completely cold and uninspiring vehicles pass through their assembly lines every year. Don’t misunderstand me, I don’t think everyone should be building Ferraris. That’s a limited market. I do believe they ought to build the best cars they can in whatever segment they choose to compete in. Take the Chevy Impala, for example, I’m pretty sure that car exists for one reason alone: to be the full-size Chevy sedan. To fill a slot. That’s it. There is nothing appealing about it whatsoever. It has nothing to offer other than simply being larger than the Malibu. That’s the kind of slothfulness that upsets me. Such wasted opportunity! The Impala could have been great, instead it’s one of the most forgettable rides in town.

But I don’t like it when auto manufacturers are stigmatized. After all, their first responsibility is to make money. So the power ultimately lies with the consumers, who frequently act foolishly. I often find myself in traffic behind a Buick LaSabre (or something similar) thinking, “Why on this good earth did they buy that?!” Now I understand that the majority of folks don’t care a great deal about cars. Still, a LaSabre is the automotive equivalent to Cheese Whiz. Sure it’s great value, but that doesn’t mean you should buy it. Indifference to cars is not an excuse for buying a blatantly awful one. After all, cars represent a significant investment for people too, both of money and time.

And so I believe it is time for change. The next time you feel the urge to buy a car as bland as day-old oatmeal, don’t do it. And if you are in the enviable position of running a car company, build cars that you can be proud of.

G8 GXP: The Last and Greatest Pontiac

2009-09-26T17:37:00.001-07:00

Strictly speaking, the G8 isn’t the last Pontiac. As much as it pains me to admit it, that distinction belongs to the Vibe. But under the circumstances I feel it appropriate to ignore that.

Pontiac was a very influential player in the American auto industry through the 1960’s and early 70’s. The 1964 Pontiac GTO created the muscle car segment. In the beginning, the muscle car formula was to put a full-size engine into a mid-size car. Pontiac was the first to do it when they dropped the 389 V8 into a Tempest and called it GTO. (Gran Turismo Omologato, a name stolen from Ferrari, but that’s another story.) Chevelle, GSX, 442, Charger, Javelin, Daytona, we would have none of them if it weren’t for Pontiac. The GTO wasn’t the quickest, but it was always honored as the father of muscle.

After the oil crisis of the 1970’s, Pontiac was reduced to ruins like everyone else. Sadly, however, it never returned to significance. It went through the years building inconsequential things that will never be remembered. There was the Firebird, but it lost much of its unique identity and simply became another Camaro, only uglier. Pontiac the mover and shaker was dead.

When the G8 was introduced in 2008 it was already too late to save Pontiac, General Motors was on the path to bankruptcy and the subsequent termination of the Pontiac brand. That’s too bad because the G8 is a tremendous car and demonstrates how good the General can be when it wants to. The GXP in particular is a very special car indeed, offering M5 performance for less than half the price. Besides, the Pontiac is a much cooler car. Not all cars become classics, but the G8 GXP will be remembered as the last and greatest performance car Pontiac ever built.

But why is Pontiac gone? Because it lost significance. If I’m honest, General Motors as a whole lost significance and Pontiac was ballast to cast aside. Pontiac became great because it broke new ground that both captured the imagination of the market and was economically feasible. Without that vision and action the brand wouldn’t last. The truth is that the future of cars like the G8 is small. I love the G8 GXP, but it isn’t revolutionary like the 1964 GTO was.

I will sorely miss Pontiac. Happily, G.M. (Chevy in particular) is becoming more significant all the time, resuming the role of industry leader rather than follower. And who knows? Maybe one day the proud Pontiac brand will be brought to light again. It’s happened before.

Obituary: An Old Friend

2009-09-19T19:43:00.000-07:00

At what point does a relationship so utilitarian as that between driver and car become more? I suppose it depends on the person and the car in question. There are those who truly love their cars, and there are cars that are inherently lovable. Still, I have yet to meet the individual devoid of personal attachment to a car that has been with them for sufficient time. Somehow we honor the faithful service of the inanimate objects in our lives. To us, they take on personalities of their own. And like people, we learn to look past their imperfections, blemishes and annoying quirks. Despite ourselves, we love them, and we hate to see them go.

Such was my experience. I still have a picture of my brother and I as small children on the day my parents took delivery of a brand new 1992 Ford Explorer. That car has been with me my whole life. As a child I was prone to radical thinking, and I considered cars inexcusably wasteful things. Better to go back to bicycles and horse-drawn carriages, if you ask me. I remember the moment that changed. I was sitting in the Explorer, rear driver-side seat, looking out the window. A beautiful red convertible drove past (I later learned it was a BMW Z3) and I felt that something about it was special.

As the years went by the Explorer deteriorated as you would expect. The knobs broke off, the AC died, once the door handle came off in my hand. The four-wheel drive broke, was repaired, and broke again. Still, it never failed us, it never left us stranded. (Well, except for that time in Kanab, Utah, but what’s a boiled transmission between friends?)

I spent the last two years nursing my old friend back to health. New spark plugs, clean fuel injectors, a loving hand. Objectively, I can’t think of a less appealing car in the world. But I loved my Explorer.

I’m almost ashamed to say it, but my faithful companion of 270,000 miles has fallen victim to Cash for Clunkers. Truly she deserved a more dignified end. The only solace I can find is in the promise of future relationships as rewarding as that which I shared with the Explorer. We never forget, but we do move on. There will be finer cars for me in the future, but for now, I keep the key to a certain old Ford in my pocket.

Playing a New Game: Hyundai Genesis Coupe

2009-02-28T13:43:00.000-08:00

Remember when Michael Jordan, the greatest basketball player of all time, traded in his number 23 jersey for a Chicago White Sox cap? His baseball career was short and lackluster, and after it was clear that his new venture wasn’t going to be a successful one, he went back to the United Center where he led the Bulls in another three consecutive NBA championship victories. Professional baseball was his childhood dream, but some things just aren’t meant to be, sometimes we have to stick with what we’re good at.

I feared it would be the same with Hyundai. For the past several years Hyundai has been building a reputation for reliable, high-value and low-cost vehicles. The company lineup expanded to include a wide range of cars and mid-size SUVs. In recent years, Hyundai product quality has improved and become very competitive with industry giants such as Toyota and Honda. Still, the central theme at Hyundai has always been to maximize value and keep customer costs to a minimum. Consequently, Hyundais have always been very competent machines, but somewhat boring.

Not any more. Recently Hyundai has released the Genesis luxury sedan to the market. This car represents Hyundai’s bold entry into the rear wheel drive luxury segment, currently dominated by Japanese and German makes. Competition here is fierce, not only because the companies involved have decades of experience building world-class machines, but also because customers in this segment are much more particular about their cars. The Genesis has earned praise from automotive evaluators, but whether that translates into sales remains to be seen.

However, I’ve really never been interested in luxury land yachts, so while I genuinely wish Hyundai success with the new Genesis, it doesn’t mean much to me personally. Then Hyundai announced the Genesis Coupe and touted it as a Mustang killer, that got my attention. Hyundai said their goal was to produce the most inexpensive 300 horsepower rear wheel drive sport coupe on the market. What incredible news! That’s exactly the kind of car I’ve been wishing more companies were building. I love driving, it puts a smile on my face like few things can. When I spend money on a car, I want that money going into the engineering of the machine so that driving it is as thrilling an experience as possible. I don’t want navigation, I don’t want rear view cameras, and I don’t want the car to park itself.

Sadly, there really aren’t many cars like that. The better sport compacts like the VW GTI, Mazdaspeed 3 and Chevy Cobalt SS come closest. But even these, as good as they are, come with inherent weaknesses, most significantly their front wheel drive layout that limits their power and handling potential. Meanwhile the Ford Mustang has had the affordable rear wheel drive coupe segment to itself for a long time and suffers from lazy engineering. So when Hyundai announced the Genesis Coupe, I think I really did see the light. I wanted the car to be incredible and very successful, bringing other companies into the segment and forcing Ford to improve their own pony car. Everything depended on Hyundai getting it right, on the first try.

I’ve taken a ride in the Genesis Coupe, and I was not disappointed. The car is beautiful to look at, the interior is handsome, very comfortable and is the perfect balance of affordability and quality. The handling is clean and precise; the 3.8 liter V6 engine is strong, and the transmission shifts easily. And it’s a Hyundai, so it’ll be as reliable as gravity. It’s not perfect though, engine noise isn’t the most refined and it’s not the quickest ride in town. If you look at the performance figures, the Genesis Coupe doesn’t accelerate or corner quite as hard as some sport compacts. But unless you’re at the racetrack, none of that matters. What the Genesis Coupe delivers is an engaging and thrilling driving experience in elegant, modern style. The car is so much fun, honestly, I was still smiling long after I got out of it.

The Genesis and Genesis Coupe are very different cars by nature, but very similar in purpose. Hyundai is making a big step into unfamiliar territory, but it’s come prepared. Both these cars offer competitive performance and features, compared with their competition. But as always, Hyundai’s ace in the hole is superior value. As for the Coupe, if ultimate performance is your priority, you’ll be better off searching elsewhere. But if you want a thrilling rear wheel drive ride that puts a smile on your face and keeps cash in your wallet, the Hyundai Genesis Coupe can’t be beat.

Looks Count: Ford Mustang GT

2009-02-23T13:09:00.000-08:00

Not long ago, I was at a dance club. I went in with my date and a quick look around revealed the situation. These kinds of social settings exhibit characteristics not unlike the reactions I’ve studied in chemistry. Depending on the ratio of girls to guys, the temperature, and the presence or absence of ethanol, a dance club can reach any kind of equilibrium. That night the guys seriously outnumbered the girls. The walls were lined with them, well behaved but eager to find a girl nonetheless. Aware of the risk, I took my date’s coat and went across the room to have it checked. Sure enough, by the time I returned my date had been whisked away to the dance floor. Now I’m generally not the jealous type, so I found myself a comfortable spot on the wall and waited out the song, what else could I do?

It was at this point that I noticed a handful of girls standing alone, not dancing. “What’s going on here?” I wondered. My date had been scooped up inside of thirty seconds and these girls don’t get asked onto the floor? Then the sad conclusion occurred to me. I’m sure they were all very nice girls, but none of them were what you’d call attractive. They weren’t ugly, just plain, but at a dance club being plain can be lethal. The single guys in the room wanted a dance partner, but they were all willing to take the chance on a better opportunity presenting itself.

I don’t know if that’s right, but that’s how it is. It illustrates the fact that appearances matter, and there’s no changing that. I don’t care how much you’re interested in someone’s brains or personality, unless they’re introduced to you in the act of rescuing a kitten from drowning, you’re first impression of a person is based on how they look. It doesn’t mean you’re shallow, it means you’ve been blessed with the gift of sight.

Such it is with the Ford Mustang GT. This car is dressed for success. I’m still not sure how they pulled it off, but the Mustang enjoys a glamour usually reserved for much more expensive cars. People love Mustangs with a passion, and I believe it has a lot to do with the looks. When the current model debuted in 2005 it was one of the most exciting designs in memory. Today it still looks fantastic. Inside and out, the Mustang is a pleasure to look at.

But looks can be deceiving. Hood scoop: fake. Side scoops: fake. Sure the interior looks great, but the plastics feel cheap. And all that great bodywork hides an engine that hasn’t changed appreciably since 1996 and a rear suspension that is very, very true to the 1964 original.

That’s not to say the Mustang isn’t fun to drive. Compared to the Dodge Challenger, the Mustang feels smaller, lighter and more maneuverable. On the other hand, it doesn’t kick you in the backside when you press on the gas like the Challenger does and the handling feel isn’t nearly as direct in the Mustang as it is in the VW GLI.

So where does that leave the Mustang? Dynamically, it’s an in-between kind of car, it’s quick but not fast, maneuverable but not nimble. The driving experience is full of Mustang glamour but there’s too much disconnect between the driver and the machine. In the end, I don’t like this car as a matter of principle. The styling makes promises the engineering just can’t keep. Ultimately, this car isn’t about superior performance or driving experience. Ford knows how to make a better Mustang, but it wouldn’t make a big difference in their sales if they did. The Mustang is about the looks, and I just don’t like a car that isn’t as good as it can be.

Love

2009-02-14T15:02:00.000-08:00

Happy Valentine’s Day. Originally, I had planned a story on the outgoing 2009 Ford Mustang for today. However, to my disappointment, a snowstorm has made it impossible to do the testing I intended. Looking out the window at the bleak weather I couldn’t help but pine for better, sunnier days. Sadly, many of those days have occurred only in my imagination, where a winding road through the mountains leads me by one beautiful vista after another. The road is smooth and clear of traffic, the vehicle is eager to chase around the corners and blast down the straights. It’s a perfect unison on a perfect day, it’s paradise. And the mere sight a car can take me there. But not just any car, you can call me shallow but I just don’t get excited over a Toyota Tercel. But once in a while a car unexpectedly transports me to this fanciful place. It doesn’t always make sense, but still I can’t shake the feeling… it’s love.

As far as I can tell, there’s no perfect method for predicting when or how it will happen. There are general trends but even they can’t be trusted without question. More often than not, I surprise myself when a new car occupies my daydreams. And it’s the same with people. Love often comes to you from the most unlikely people. You can’t plan for it, it just happens to you, and soon you can’t get that giddy grin off your face. You might as well get used to the idea that you’ve got it bad. You don’t choose to love—although I believe you can choose not to—it’s a natural response. And when you’re in its clutches there’s no denying its power.

Such was I some time ago in the fall. I was going for a walk on a crisp, clear day when I gasped involuntarily. Parked on the road was the most beautiful 1989 Camaro I’d ever seen, and it was for sale. I can’t tell you why but I’ve always had a soft spot for third generation Camaros, and 1989 is one of the better years. I’ve never thought of the 80’s as a charming period, but this car resonates with me somehow. I love the sharp lines of the body, I love the weird plastic interior, I love the attitude of this car. It even had the 350 cubic inch V8 instead of the devastatingly bad 305 engine. It was a terrible car, it would break down constantly, drink gas like it was happy hour, and I’d be required to grow a mullet. But none of that mattered because all I could think about for days afterwards was taking that car down all my favorite back-roads. Sometimes love just doesn’t make any sense.

I did call the owner to get the history of the car and in the end I let it go. But I’ll remember for a long time my chance encounter with a dream-car. Maybe 240 horsepower isn’t that impressive for a dream-car, but who can argue with love?

Modern Specialization: VW GLI

2009-02-08T09:26:00.000-08:00

Some time ago, I had a friend who came from a small village in Cambodia. When I knew him, he was somewhat out of his element in modern surroundings. For example, after the purpose for various kitchen appliances was explained to him he slipped outside, collected some sticks and started a fire in the oven so he could cook his dinner. On hot days he would take a piece of raw fish and toss it on the roof of his house as he was leaving. It would be ready to eat when he got back for lunch, all he needed to do was pull it down with a stick. He didn’t quite match what the modern world expects of an individual. But I was always impressed by his ingenuity, his resourcefulness. No matter what the challenge or obstacle, he always found a way to overcome it. If someone had asked him to recite Henry the Fifth, backwards, I'm confident that he would find a way. His methods were largely unorthodox, but successful nonetheless.

He would tell me stories about Cambodia. In the village where he comes from everyone lives in a house they had built themselves—from scratch. Everyone weaves their own clothing, raises their own food, and draws their own water. If they have need of anything they provide it for themselves, from whatever resources they have at hand—usually mud and sticks. Want stools and a table for your family to eat around? Better get busy with the bamboo. Need to refinish your floor? Dried mud does nicely. Leaky roof? Learn to thatch better. Want a new telescope so you can do some stargazing with the kids? Sorry, tough luck.

These people are self-reliant on a totally different level than I’m used to thinking about. To me, self-reliance is understood in monetary terms. Can I afford the rent? Can I afford the groceries? Can I afford my girlfriend? If the answer is “yes” than I’m self-reliant and can feel good about myself. But these people can actually provide everything they need to live their lives. They’ve got a skill-set that’s longer than a Tom Clancy novel. They can do anything. In that context, my friend’s resourcefulness starts to make sense.

In America, it’s different. We specialize. It’s the principle that made Henry Ford’s assembly line so efficient and productive. No one in America knows how to do everything. Everyone knows how to do one or two things, very well and very efficiently. With enough people to divide the different jobs among, everything gets done and our net productivity is increased. Meaning we accomplish more by working together and being interdependent than we would on our own. I don’t know how to raise cattle or chickens, I can’t lay cement or fasten drywall, and I can’t operate the machine that turns carrots into carrot sticks. But none of that matters because I can tell the difference between a dacite porphyry and an andesite breccia and there are people willing to pay me to do exactly that. All that remains for me to do is to go to my local Walmart.

And it’s not just our work that’s specialized. Every season has a dedicated wardrobe, there are different forks for salads and desserts, there’s a golf club for every conceivable need, and there’s a TV channel tailored just for you somewhere between C-SPAN and MTV. In our quest for providing the best products and services we’ve specialized everything. So now we have a car for single city-dwellers, another for burly outdoorsmen, one for suburban mothers with 2 and a half children, and another for business executives that need to show off their wealth. A car for every need.

But what happens when you have more than just one use for your vehicle? What if you need to impress your boss, take the kids to soccer practice, save on your fuel costs and pick up a few hundred pounds of cement mix? What do you do then?

Recently I drove the Volkswagen GLI. This, and its hatchback counterpart the GTI, have a unique quality about them. They seem to transcend the boundaries of specialization. They resonate with all people, not a distinct few. With a GLI you’ll be welcomed and respected among BMW and Mercedes drivers, Honda and Toyota owners will feel you are their peer, and hot-shots in Mustangs will try to race you at the stoplights. The exterior styling is aggressive and restrained. The interior is luxurious and modest, sporty and conservative. The car is fast and economical, fun and practical, youthful and professional. Simply put, this car does everything. It’s like a magic mirror that shows people whatever they want to see.

Driving the GLI is a joy. The 2.0 liter direct injected four cylinder engine provides ample thrust, the GLI is very willing to move quickly. The engine note is clear and purposeful but never overwhelming. The handling is direct and sharp, the suspension keeps the car flat through the turns. The interior is fantastic, perhaps a few cheap-feeling controls on the dash, but you have to look hard to find something to complain about.

Visibility felt oddly cramped at times and you’re very aware of how low you are to the ground when going over driveways, but I’m sure you get more comfortable in the car with time. The example I drove featured the DSG dual-clutch transmission. The idea is that it’s an automatic when you want it to be or you can shift it manually when you want to have a bit of fun. So when you’re driving in first gear the second clutch already has second gear ready for you. You can up-shift from the console mounted shifter or paddles behind the steering wheel. I must say, however, that I wasn’t too impressed. The transmission just takes too long to change gears, I’ve ordered pizzas that arrived more quickly. I can’t deny the convenience of the automatic capability, but manual shift mode just doesn’t cut it for me. Buying the car with the 6-speed manual will save you a couple grand, and be more fun to drive.

Still, I have to say that I love this car. You get so much versatility with no compromises. It does everything, just like my friend from Cambodia. In a specialized world, such a range of ability is unusual. This is a very good and very relevant car in the modern world. Would I own one? I’m still not sure. I’d love it always, no doubt. But the GLI’s one weakness is the inevitable effect of having so many strengths. It lacks focus. Maybe it’s just my American mindset, but I have respect for people and cars that tirelessly pursue excellence in a specific field, even at the expense of everything else. The GLI is just too busy doing everything at once, and I’m a bit too single-minded for that.

Driving the Challenger SRT8

2009-01-24T13:50:00.000-08:00

I start with this to offer some explanation of the photo appearing with the title of this blog.

I remember the first time I saw a new Dodge Challenger. I was on a small highway in Arizona, the Challenger was black and moving quite fast. By the time I recognized it, it was a dot on the horizon in my rearview mirror. But the excitement was there. I remember first seeing pictures of the car. I was simply floored by the looks, it was gorgeous. Headlights like jewels that seem to scowl at lesser cars, that beautifully simple and classic grill, the broad stance, long hood, enormous C-pillars, and that full-length tail lamp topped with a discrete but purposeful deck spoiler. As if anything about this car could be described as discrete. There was no hiding, no shame, in the fact that it was a modern copy of the classic original. And it was staggeringly pretty. From that moment I knew that my first encounter with the real car would be momentous. And here I was on a lonely stretch of road just trying to stay awake, completely unprepared for the magnificent event at hand. I was caught unaware, in a day dream, and suddenly this fantastic image was tangible before me, but only briefly before it flashed past and was gone. I could hardly believe it. That was the big moment, and it had come and gone so fast, had it really happened at all? My heart was still pounding, yes that was the real deal. If only I had known. I would have gotten a camera ready, or rolled down my window at least, just to hear it better. You truly never know when your next moment will be the one you've been waiting for.

Later I was in Los Angeles when I had my second encounter. Being L.A., the traffic was sufficiently slow that I got a better look this time, albeit only from behind. An orange one. Later, closer to home, I spotted another black Challenger several times, and each experience was exciting. Each time I couldn't help but get giddy all over. There are plenty of cars I get excited about, but this one made me feel like I was five and it was Christmas morning. Still it was annoyingly inaccessible. These were 2008 Challengers, of which there were only, what, 6400 made? They'd all been sold, you couldn't find one on a showroom floor anywhere. The only chance you had at getting near one if you didn't own it was if you had a friend who did. So you won't be surprised when I say that I was even more excited when I first saw the car appear at a local dealer.

That weekend I popped by with a friend to take a look. All I had seen before was an orange Challenger, an R/T, parked in a prominent corner spot on the lot. I got to it full of anticipation. Each step brought me closer to it than I'd even been before. It was wonderful. What a good looking car. And look, this was a 6-speed manual model with the pistol-grip shifter. How cool is that. It just felt good to be in the presence of such a beautiful thing, full of so much expression. This car makes no apologies for what it is, it's honest. It's a big, bad, boulevard bruiser, and it's not ashamed of it. Frankly, that kind of confidence is the only way you can pull off a car this crazy. It's not expecting to be everybody's favorite and it's not about to compromise. I love it. It's bold and brash in a world of bland monotony.

A salesperson approached us and I started wondering how I was going to explain why I'm not here to buy a car. He wasn't pushy, much to the contrary he asked if I wanted a test drive. If any of you are offered a drive in a Challenger, take it. If you don't, you're an idiot. Unless you happen to suspect that the car in question is wired to a bomb. And even then I might take my chances. The salesperson took to another portion of the lot, "What, they have more?" I thought. There they were, five new Challengers glistening in the sun and the keys I soon found in my hand belonged to the silver one at the end... the SRT8.

This can't be, I'm dreaming. We all got it and I'll admit I was nervous. I've handled cars as powerful as this before, but new cars (and especially new cars you don't own) deserve extra respect. Only 17 miles on the odometer, I can't break it now. We started up and headed out of the lot. It was an automatic car, very easy to drive. The seats were comfortable and supportive, the ergonomics were good. The interior quality was good, not luxury, but significantly more pleasant than a Ford Mustang. However, I must say that it's bland. It's just the same as the interior of the Dodge Charger. Even then, it's generic enough that if you'd been kidnapped, blind folded and thrown in, even if you did manage to get a look around and call the police on your cell, you wouldn't be able to tell them what sort of vehicle you were in. You'd be rescued if your kidnappers were driving a Mustang. Smart kidnappers. A car this good on the outside ought to be just as good on the inside, and the Challenger isn't.

We got to a main road and the time came to get a feel for what this car is all about, the engine. I was conservative at first, no sense getting killed, but the car didn't seem to respond well to a gentle push of the throttle. Rather ordinary acceleration, really. So I probed further and suddenly, it hit. With all my internal organs neatly collected against the driver's seat, we took off like a rocket. It'd been a long time since I've felt a car like this before. I didn't speed, I think, but I got to the speed limit in a good hurry. On we went, up a hill where my normal car struggles like "The Little Engine That Could" and into the next part of town. It was here that I noticed that the ergonomic interior wasn't as ergonomic as I thought. For example, the steering wheel blocks the two outside gauges from view and my friend in the back was wondering if there was any more rear leg room to be had.

Then we turned left, I was on the inside of two turning lanes and found myself feeling very claustrophobic as I got the truly huge Challenger between two also huge SUVs. At 197.7'' long and 76'' wide, the Challenger is every bit as big as a full size SUV, but when you're sitting so low to the ground you don't have the feeling of invulnerability. You can't see the corners of the car either. And that's worrisome when you aren't sure if you're going to hit the guy next to you or not. The Challenger feels enormous when you're in a tight spot but on the open road it's a dream. The power is phenomenal, the handling is good, not great, but more than anything else it feels incredibly cool to drive. This time I did have my window down and I could conduct that amazing V8 orchestra to my heart's delight. I was having a wonderful time, but soon it had to end.

And so I parked the SRT8 again at the lot. What a thrill ride. My friend demonstrated well how awkward it is to get out of the back seat. I suppose that's why you buy one, so you never have to sit there. Standing back, reflecting on what just took place, I felt very fortunate. In truth, the stupid grin on my face didn't leave for a week, at least.

And then I made the decision. If I ever had the money to afford this car, I still would never buy it. I wouldn't. It's cool, no denying it, and I'd love to have a best friend who owned one. But I'd never spend my own money on this car. It just isn't relevant anymore. It's beautiful, but to cut costs it's underpinned with the Charger/Magnum/300C hardware that makes it too big and too heavy. The engine is great, but the time for 6.1 liter V8's is past. As for the transmission, suspension and interior, they're all adequate, but none of them are exemplary. This car is wonderful fun, but I wouldn't have one. Tell you what, Dodge, make the next one smaller, lighter, with a small displacement high tech V8, a better transmission, suspension and interior and maybe I will have one. If I've got the money, that is.

Welcome

2009-01-24T10:05:00.000-08:00

Welcome to OVERTAKE. As you might have guessed I'm something of a car enthusiast and that is precisely what I intend to be writing about. However, I've always felt a pang of shame expressing my interest in automobiles to others, car-nuts have always had a negative stigma in the mind of the world. You've seen it. Whenever I'm with a group of people who don't know me particularly well and the subject of my passion for cars comes up I can feel their estimation of me starting to decay. The women especially, they all look at me with pity as if to say, "It isn't really his fault. He's only a guy." And so I've lived for years harboring my taboo practice in secret. To them cars are crude, uncivilized, noisy and polluting necessary evils in the world and the sooner we melt them all down into ipods the better. I don't see it that way and I feel it is wrong to persist in this persecution.

Sadly, as it is with many stereotypes, this too is rooted in some truth. How many times have I been to car shows, racetracks and auto parts stores only to be surrounded by idiots going on about exhaust pipes so stupidly large that children could get lost inside them or 1000hp nitrous kits that guarantee a lightning-quick quarter mile followed shortly by a massive explosion? More frequently than I could count. The sad truth is, there are many small-brained car-nuts in the world, and they're ruining it for the rest of us.

This, then, is the goal of my writing: to present an intelligent, passionate, and relevant view of cars--past, present and future--and the modern automotive industry. Because cars are important. Modern society is built around the mobility that cars have afforded us. And because cars are cool. The artistry, engineering and soul that goes into a good car makes it more moving on more levels than just about anything else. I love cars. And I don't care who knows it.