Consider the the weight of the clutch pedal and awesome mechanical click of the transmission as you move through each gear. Feel the curve and bumps of the road transmitted through the steering wheel. I love the feeling of driving a true sports car. It's a full sensory experience. So much connects your body into the car. Sport driving is the art of that connection and our ability to interpret what we sense and respond. When we respond, right or wrong, what an emotion!
50 years ago the fastest drivers understood how to make a purely mechanical machine perform outstanding feats. They knew how to feel the car and control it like a wild horse. Can you imagine the excitement of this experience?
As a society we have discovered the power of the computer chip. It has the ability to make decisions in milliseconds that us mortals could never process. Computers are monsters of efficiency. They do exactly what they are instructed to do based on the measurements they make. Other then the initial programming, no people are required.
Did you know that the average car has more computer power then NASA had when it launched the
Apollo missions? Microchips have invaded the modern ride with electronic stability control, drive by
wire throttle, electronic steering, and advanced multi-clutch automatic transmissions. Just like a high school driver's ed instructor, those computers are
constantly watching your driving and making little corrections along the way. If a tire starts to slip, the computer moves power from that wheel to another to ensure traction. If you apply too much throttle, the system adjusts and feathers on the power. Slow to shift, no problem just pull the transmission flap and you move through the gears like a professional racer. You, the driver, need not be aware or skilled in any way.
If you are interested in the safest possible commute on a rainy or snowy morning, be sure your electronic stability control is on. If you have no proficiency and want to ensure you have the absolute quickest 0-60 time, buy a car with a multi-clutch push button transmission. All of this technology is great when your objective isn't fun. You will feel nothing, but hey, that wasn't the point.
I'm all for technology but not when it changes the experience. I want to feel something when I drive. I need that weight on my left foot when shifting. I want to sweat as I heal-toe to downshift and brake into a curve. How can someone have passion for driving but not feel anything when you do it?
That said, look for me in the grass at the curve with a smile from ear to ear.
Remember when you were a kid and just couldn't wait for your birthday, Christmas, or some other special event? Time would just creep by so slowly while the anxiety of anticipation consumed you. When it arrived, what an awesome day that would be! You looked forward to that moment on the edge of your seat while you day dreamed about the awesome gifts you would receive! Somehow as I've gotten older that antsy feeling just faded away. I'm just not one to get excited about an upcoming holiday. Gifts are nice and the time spent with my wife is even nicer, but I've lost that can't wait for it feeling. Kinda sad isn't it?
Over the last few weeks it's come back as I've been infected with that kid at Christmas feeling. How awesome to be back in that moment! Most of the day is spent staring at the clock while counting off the minutes. Every one of those slow passing seconds is filled trying to focus on anything but the upcoming event while my stomach churns with excitement. This time the feeling is not for an upcoming holiday - it couldn't be anything normal like that. No, I'm certified strung out waiting for the return of my Viper from the paint shop!
Bear with me, I know I sound nuts to the uninitiated. A little while back, I shared the story of my high school Camaro and all the good memories of fixing that ride up. I really miss that car. Though it will never return, I've decided to try and relive those awesome moments the only way a more then full-time employed adult can. I've outsourced the building of a new and modern version.
It's good to be a little older and a little better funded; this time it's getting done right. I've found the best paint shop in the state for working on Vipers. He does other work, but this is his love (he owns a Viper and nearly always has at least one customer car in the shop). The plan is to take my toy and paint those same high school dual black racing stripes from nose to tail. In addition, the wheels are getting the black powder coat treatment, center caps are going to be highlighted in red, and all of the logos will be switched out with matching black replacements. It's going to look sick.
I'm feeling sick. The initial plan was three weeks away. Today, we are two weeks in. Due to well justified delays, I'm betting at least another two. Christmas just can't come fast enough to this kid. Ugh, hurry up.
It's an old formula that's sure to make a sports car driver smile. Keep it simple. Provide a low to the ground, little, and light car. Give it a revy engine with a simple manual gear box. To ensure a great experience, rip off the top and make the car open air. Sounds like fun doesn't it? If your into cars, like me, I bet you know what I'm talking about. The Mazda Miata is an amazing machine. Just drive one. The engineers at Mazda have somehow managed to perfectly embody the happy formula in a modern vehicle.
The critics agree. Since it's launch in 1989, the Miata has had stellar scores across the auto media; from Automobile magazine to Top Gear. What's unusual is how it gets these marks. It's not because the car is the fastest or best handling. It wins simply for the smiles it generates. That's not a criticism, this car handles well and is zippy. However when you drive it, the toy handles curves, accelerates, and just plan goes like a big go kart.
It's an enthusiasts car. Designed for those that love to drive and do so in the real world. Ever try to fly through traffic in a supercar? You just can't do it. Someone is always right in the way. When you do get an opening be assured that an officer of the law is just waiting to write you a ticket. The sad truth is that super cars and public roads are a very disappointing mix. But if you can build a car that feels awesome when it's winding along at 45, you've really got something.
It's not just fun to drive, it's a bargain to own. This thing is cheap to buy, starting at $23,720 for a brand new barely equipped rag top model. (This is the one you should buy as options don't make it any more fun.) Operating the Miata is just as reasonable with 22/28 mpg, excellent for any car that's a joy to drive. Then consider repairs and maintenance, both very affordable with simple design and broadly available and inexpensive parts.
The general public loves the Miata. It's the best selling two seat roadster ever. Nearly one million of the little cars have been produced to a very happy club of owners. As Mazda continues to commit to the formula, there's no telling what this number could grow to be.
This is where you ask, "How many of these awesome little cars have I owned?" Let me come clean - Not that it doesn't try, but the Mazda Miata has never found it's way into my garage. From time to time when shopping for a new toy they hit my list. I've even gone for a test drive or three, however, pulling the trigger on one is something I just can't seem to do. Everything good about the Miata in my script above is right on, it's a ride that any car guy could really enjoy. This thing is just too cute, and I can't get past that.
Stereotypes are bad. We know that when we stereotype we make assumptions about a person or group that is most likely inaccurate. Stereotypes can be hurtful or derogatorily. Just don't do it. So here I go...
Those of us that commute in busy city traffic have a lot of time on our hands. Our minds wander while they idle with the engine. Staring out over the hood of your commuter rig, what is it that you see? Well, it's likely a slow moving river of cars. As a car guy, I spend many of those moments studying the vehicles around me. What model is that and how is it equipped? You can get a doctorate on car classification with a few hours of commuting a day.
After a while your not just looking at the cars. Inevitably, you start to consider the drivers. You wonder who they are and what led them to select the vehicle they spend hours a day in. Perhaps some of those drivers just fell into the car they sit in. Maybe a parent gave them this car long ago as a hand me down. Others may have just seen a great deal and jumped on it. That said, most of these owners, those not renting or driving something provided by an employer, probably made a decision to buy that car based on some criteria. The individual's needs or lifestyle certainly defined the questions underlying. So, is it really a stretch to suggest the car sitting in front of you in traffic says something about it's owner?
Buckle up, here comes the stereotyping.
Let's talk about that minivan that always manages to sit in the pole position at a red light in front of you and accelerates at the same pace as a snail. Forget for a moment that this same van likely has a rear entertainment system tuned to morning cartoons or that the rear window is decorated with a stick figure family. No one buys a minivan for it's hot looks, handling, or luxury accommodations. These vehicles are purchased for three rows of seats, captain's chairs that make it easy to get from front to back without stopping and exiting the vehicle, large storage capacity, and huge sliding side doors. I'm going to go out on a limb and say that anyone that has decided this is the vehicle for them is likely a mom or dad. (Did I just stereotype?) Expect that vehicle to move slowly while it protects it's precious cargo.
Now let's consider a vehicle I see nearly every day as I fight my way into the office, a Chevy Volt. So who do we think drives this contraption? If it was a Prius, I would suggest that it may just be a "me too" purchase decision made by someone who wishes to smugly point out how they are doing the right thing for the environment, fuel consumption, or similar. But this is a Volt. These four door nightmares are ugly, uncomfortable, and uncool on a level that Prius has not yet hit due to the Toyota's widespread celebrity ownership (not that the Prius is cool, it just has a group of followers that think it is). So considering that the Volt is sold more on the principle of it's electronic drive then on it's hybrid nature, this owner must be a real deal eco-terrorist, err, an environmentalist. Think I'm wrong? The one I see has a bumper sticker that says "We know because of evidence." What do you suppose that sticker is trying to say?
Not to be immune to the point I'm drawing here, what do you think my two seat roadster, V10 powered Viper says about me? Clearly I'm not focused on hauling the family to school. Nor am I worried about sipping on gasoline. If you heard that crazy loud exhaust, you wouldn't consider that I'm all that into the environment either. Those humdrum things aside, it says I'm more into the performance and cool of my vehicle then practicality. It says I'm a car guy. Anytime I see another driver flying along in a similar rig it's a moment of comradery. Wonder if the minivan and hybrid owner feels the same way?
In any form, the Porsche 911 Carrera is a classic. This timeless sports car is the result of 50 years of improvement by the genius German engineers at Porsche. It's an impressive machine that is both uniquely beautiful and exhilarating to drive. Considering it's rear-engine configuration and simple VW roots it shouldn't be either. It's the paradox of the 911 that makes it all the more amazing.
Over the years I've had the opportunity to own a number of amazing cars and the 911 was one of these machines. Bringing this car home was a surreal experience that carried on for my entire possession. Owning her was as much about being a care taker of something special as it was an opportunity to drive that legend. A legend, however, has a way of making you worry.
It all started with the rain. One evening after work I was weaving my way home through crazy traffic on a busy expressway. The low dark ceiling above me began to crackle with lighting followed by an explosion of water. That's when shear panic hit me. On the more rational side, I was worried about the looseness of the rear-end as Michelin PS2 Sports tried to grip like z-rated rubber in the rain. That healthy self-survival thinking quickly gave way as my mind flashed with thoughts of what that dirty water was doing to my perfectly groomed paint. Nuts.
As a result of this nasty storm, the need arouse to clean the soiled dream machine. Who do I trust with this task? Car guys know the damage the wrong towel can do to the finish of your car, never mind a car wash tunnel. Detailers and discount car washes alike could not be trusted. A new ritual of four hours each Saturday became dedicated to the cause of a careful two bucket wash. Not that I'm complaining, this is a ritual I love and continue today on whatever toy finds it's way to my garage.
While we discuss the process of keeping the museum piece perfect, have you seen the delicate leather that decorates the interior of the modern 911? It looks incredible and smells even better then it looks. Touch it the wrong way, however, and you have a permanent mark that will cause an obsessive-compulsive owner to have a full on seizure. My wife, God bless her, couldn't help but put her elbow on the top of those artful door panels. No matter the begging and pleading, she just couldn't stop. Neither could the rolling in my stomach.
What about parking? When I first purchased the 911 she was my only car. My job required heavy travel and provided little expense assistance for transportation to the airport. Reluctantly I would drive and leave the masterpiece in airport parking. Waiting to board for that return flight home would cause severe stress while I worried about the possibility of a damaged, or worse, stolen sports car. At the end of the day, the only solution was the investment in another vehicle that can be used for worry free rain, snow, and airport service. This is an investment I made with haste as soon as the financial opportunity arose.
Cars like this are amazing and worthy of museum piece status. It's a special type of relationship with the car and it's heritage. Just as critical, driving a machine like this is it's own reward. Here we are with the curator's paradox - owner's anxiety has a way of defeating the driver's joy. What's the car guy to do? I've decided to just have a museum piece and get out there and drive it like you stole it. Xanax anyone?
