Based on the second generation, 2002 NSX-R, the GT was created specifically to comply with homologation regulations for Japanese Super GT racing. Those regulations stated any car that wanted to compete in the series had to be based on a production car with at least five examples. So Honda made five NSX-R GTs. Honda never stated what, if any, changes they made to GT underneath its wild new bodywork.

We do know what enhancements Spoon made to one of those five cars. Starting with the NSX-R GT’s functional carbon fiber aero aids, flat undertray, non-functional snorkel (there for homologation purposes only), complete absence of sound deadening, single pane rear glass (the only thing separating you from the engine) and carbon/Kevlar Recaros, the Japanese tuner added its own upgraded suspension and brakes as well as a giant turbocharger and remapped ECU to boost the 24-valve 3.2-liter V6’s from 290 to 420 HP.

This isn’t just the car I’ve always lusted after. It’s the single rarest example of that model and not a plain version of that either, but one that’s had the bejesus tuned out of it.

Infineon is an intimidating place to drive any car, in place of run off, concrete walls are installed right next to most of the track, restricting not only your options should something go wrong, but, in a car as low as the NSX, your vision too. What parts of the track are unencumbered by concrete feature huge elevation changes. It’s my first time here and I’m having trouble remember which corners go right and which ones left. The track is especially intimidating given the complete absence of driver aids in this priceless one-of-a-kind car. Sure, there’s ABS, but there isn’t traction control stability control, magnetic suspension or drive-by-wire anything.

Dating from 1990, the NSX hails from a completely different era of car design, one that put emphasis on the fundamental rightness of a low curb weight, lower center-of-gravity, an engine mounted amidships and the kind of subtle control that’s only available in the absence of electronic assistance. The GT’s bodykit also adds down force, lots of it.

Turn six at Infineon is an impossibly fast, downhill, off camber, near 180-degree hairpin. Its exit is bordered by a three-foot high, six-inch thick piece of poured concrete. Taking it fast takes commitment and more than a little faith. Gripping the tiny Momo wheel with white knuckles, it takes all my strength to turn the NSX onto a tighter line. The downforce that kicks in at close to three-figure speeds combined with the huge amount of caster means the steering gets heavier as you go faster, lots heavier. But that’s just a side effect to the reason for those two changes; with them, the NSX-R GT will make it around any corner, at seemingly any speed, with an absolute absence of drama. As long as you keep your right foot planted, just like the 911 before they made it a luxury car, the mantra for any NSX-R GT driver needs to be “Never Lift.”

Oh, and there will be NSX-R GT drivers too. Even though this specific model will remain very special, starting next year Spoon will sell you a brand new one that looks and goes just like this for only $150,000. And yes, it will be road-legal and available in left hand drive. Neither will they be mere replicas, but built using a supply of left over NSX-R chassis Honda has squirreled away somewhere in Japan.

That money won’t buy you a luxury car. While the original equipment carbon/Kevlar Recaros are supportive and comfortable, the air-conditioning cold and the tape player functional, the interior is cramped and difficult to access in a way expensive cars simply aren’t any more. It’s loud in here too; only a single pain of glass separates you from the grumbling tuned engine and its big, popping exhaust. Don’t think of it as Spartan, think of it as purposeful. Decades old design has its benefits; the view out is unencumbered by hood, fenders or power bulges, while the A-pillars are thin, enhancing your vision. The view out of the NSX is unrivalled and uncompromised, allowing you to concentrate on doing nothing but going fast.

And it does go fast too. Weighing just 2,795 Lbs (the 480 HP Nissan GT-R weighs over a thousand pounds more), that 420 HP can propel it to 60 in less than four seconds and on to a top speed somewhere in excess of 186 MPH.

They say never meet your heroes because they won’t live up to your expectations. But, this NSX-R GT doesn’t just feel as good as I expected, but better than I could ever have hoped. Unlike other classic super cars, the passing of time has been kind to the NSX. It suffers from neither high weight nor over complication of modern super cars, but adapts their up-to-date running gear, brakes and tires to give itself modern performance. Classic involvement with modern speed? That’s a fantasy we’re glad came true.

To read more, including a comparison against the 2009 BMW M3, pick up a copy of 0-60 Magazine issue 6, it hits stands nationwide today.

Photography credit: Robert Kerian

Thanks to: Edmun at Spoon Sports

That price is causing controversy. Not for how cheap it is, but how expensive. The CC starts at just $26,790 when equipped with a 2.0-liter turbo four and a six-speed manual. But the Passat, which the CC is based on, comes in at just $23,990. So to some, the CC is asking you to pay more for less; it only has four seats to the Passat’s five.

The thing about the CC is that it doesn’t deserve to be compared to the Passat, but instead to vehicles that cost much much more. Why? It offers a driving experience that’s at least equivalent to most entry- to mid-size luxury cars (there’s those damn categories again), classier looks, a larger interior, greater economy and doesn’t suffer from the image problems of it’s snobbier rivals.

The European luxury driving experience has come to be defined by two characteristics: sporting ability combined with cosseting quality. The driver of a BMW, Audi or Mercedes expects to be able to drive quickly everywhere from the highway to a winding mountain road, but doesn’t want to pay a comfort penalty for that ability. They want supportive seats, isolation from external noise and a comfortable ride. Recently, much of the involvement that always came hand-in-hand with speed has been sacrificed in the drive to make cars ever more capable and safer. The CC is no different. It’s as competent as an Audi A4, which is to say more fun than any Mercedes, but a little less involving than a BMW. One area where it distinguishes itself is in ride quality, which manages near total isolation without compromising handling ability.

The interior, too, leaves you thinking more high-end than entry-level. The fit and finish is top notch. Every button and lever is well-damped. Attractive accent lighting makes things look nice at night. Everything is as it seems; the chrome is actual chromed metal, the brushed aluminum actual aluminum and not a cheap plastic imitation. Wood is, thankfully, totally absent. The two-tone black and beige seen here is the most successful interior color scheme, accentuating both the attractive shape of the dash and the seats which, in the rear, are the CC’s defining characteristic. There are two supportive buckets separated by a console. That arrangement means that sitting in back is as appealing as sitting up front, but it also means the car sacrifices the ability to carry five people. The sloping roof, a characteristic of these four-door coupes, does impinge a bit on headroom, but I’m 6’2” and could sit back there all day without an issue.

So we’ve covered what the CC does as well as its more expensive alternatives; now let’s talk about what it does better. For one, when equipped with that base engine (there’s also a 3.6-liter V6 with 280 HP) it’s capable of returning 31 MPG on the highway while still managing the 0-to-60 sprint in 6.7 seconds. That back seat? Not only does it have more space than the A4 (or 3-series or C-class) that it drives like — I could cross my legs — but it has more headroom than a CLS, in which the ceiling flattens my beautiful hair.

Then there’s the looks. While not as striking as the Audi A4 or A5, the CC is a hell of a lot less awkward than the CLS or any current BMW. It’s understated — there’s not even a CC badge —and handsome, but utterly unassuming. People don’t know what to make of it. One on hand, there’s the VW badge, which means it’s a cheap car, but on the other its shape is well proportioned and evokes quality. It looks expensive.

Probably the best thing about the CC isn’t the way that it drives or how nice the interior is, but its price. At $26,970 you get a car equipped with everything necessary to take on rivals costing twice as much, but also the economy of cars costing a little less. We’re not sure what category it fits in other than this one: cars that we can wholeheartedly recommend buying.

Suitability Parameters:
Speed Merchants: No
Fashion Victims: Yes
Treehuggers: No
Mack Daddies: No
Tuner Crowd: Yes
Hairdressers: Yes
Penny Pinchers: No
Euro Snobs: Yes
Working Stiffs: No
Technogeeks: No
Poseurs: No
Soccer Moms: No
Nascar Dads: No
Golfing Grandparents: No
Very Serious Businessmen: No
Sheiklets: No

Also Consider:
• 2009 Subaru WRX
• E46 BMW M3
• E39 BMW M5
• 2009 Chevy Corvette
• 996 Porsche 911
• Lotus Elise SC and packing lightly
• 1990 BMW 325is w/springs and dampers; Yokohama AVS Intermediates; K&N filter; chip; exhaust; rebuilt engine and gearbox; $36,000 in your pocket.

Vitals:
• Manufacturer: BMW
• Model year: 2009
• Base Price: $35,600
• Price as Tested: $46,945
• Engine type: 3.0-liter twin-turbo inline-six
• Horsepower: 300 @ 5800 RPM
• Torque: 300 @ 1400-5000 RPM
• Transmission: 6-Speed Automatic
• Curb Weight: 3384 LB
• LxWxH: 171.7" x 68.8" x 55.4
• Wheelbase: 104.7"
• Tires: 205/50R-17 / 225/45R-17
• 0 - 60 mph: 5.2 seconds
• Top Speed: 150 MPH
• 1/4 Mile: 13.6 seconds @102 MPH
• EPA Fuel economy city/highway: 17/25 MPG
• NHTSA crash test rating: TBA

Also See:
• 2009 BMW 135i, Part One
• 2009 BMW 135i, Part Two

Acceleration: *****
The twin-turbo 3.0-liter inline-six is the pick of BMW’s range, providing its bigger, heavier cars with ample acceleration. Here, it’s ridiculously fast for a non-M car, and much, much torquier too. You can pretty much leave the gearbox in third for any serious driving, using the low-down grunt to carry you out of corners and the high-end rush to blast you down straights.

Braking: ****
Excellent both in town and at higher speeds, we couldn’t provoke any fade, which is not something we can say of most Bimmers.

Ride:***
Firm but controlled, just like a European performance car should be.

Handling: **
As a BMW fan, it hurts me to do this, but I’m knocking a star off for failing to live up to expectations. The BMW is a three-star handler when you want it to merit five stars. Sure it’s rear wheel drive, sure it’s got firm springs and dampers, but when pushed, it doesn’t communicate with nor involve the driver to the degree a true sports car should. It’s still fast, but beyond the sensation of speed, it’s just not fun or rewarding to drive.

Gearbox: ***
We’ve driven 135is with both manual and automatic transmissions. This time around we got lumped with an autobox. At normal speeds it’s fine, if unremarkable. At higher speeds it’s too keen to upshift, meaning planting the throttle results in several seconds of downshifting delay before the acceleration you want is achieved. Overriding the system with BMW’s frustrating paddle system results in reasonably fast shifts, but since both paddles go forward and back, you’ll be pushing one or the other the wrong way if you try to shift in a hurry. Luckily, you don’t need to shift much in the 135i, so by just selecting third gear, then getting on with driving, you don’t have to deal with the gearbox at all.

Audio: ****
Ours came with the optional $400 iPod adapter, $2100 iDrive Navigation and $595 Sirius radio. It sounded great and connected easily to an iPhone, which was also easy to control via iDrive. Sirius is also our preference over the more-common XM. We wouldn’t want to pay for these options ourselves though; the inline-six soundtrack is all we need.

Toys: ****
If you’ve used any previous generation of iDrive, you’ll be amazed by how simple and intuitive it is to use now. The best car-based human/machine interface on the market, it provides easy, eyes-free access to the decent navigation system and all the secondary functions.

Value: *
If the 135i handled, we’d be giving it at least three stars for value. But it doesn’t. So instead of a driver’s car, you’re paying $35,600 (base) for a car with compromised packaging. The $46,945 as-tested-here price is absolutely scandalous and leaves us wondering why anyone would spend this kind of money on a 1-series. The 2009 Subaru WRX starts at just $24,850, has real driver involvement, similar performance numbers and in hatchback form, real practicality. We couldn’t justify a 135i for ten grand more, but especially not for 20 grand more.

In case you’re wondering, our car was equipped with $500 metallic paint, $600 cold weather package (heated seats and a ski bag), $3,400 Premium Package (power seats and some fancy, but irrelevant doodads), $1,200 Sport Package (Sports seats and thicker steering wheel + paddles), $1,325 automatic transmission, $2,100 navigation system (iDrive), $400 iPod adapter, $595 Sirius radio, $350 rear parking radar and an $825 destination and handling fee. Sure, we’d eliminate most of that if we were spending our own money (which we wouldn’t), but the 135i is still damn expensive.

Overall: **
A nice little car that’s insanely overpriced, sacrifices practicality and space for a longitudinal inline-six and rear wheel drive, which it then fails to take advantage of to become a real driver’s car. Great engine though.

Also see:
• 2009 BMW 135i, Part One

I’m certainly hoping so. The former owner of two E30s (a 1990 325is and a 1992 325iC), I’ve been left out in the cold by recent BMW products. Those E30s represented, to me at least, the perfect blend of sportiness and luxury. Just big enough for two people (four in a pinch) to ride in the supportive and comfy leather-clad, manual adjusting Recaros the E30 was almost two cars in one. You could choose to cruise around in a nice, classy looking luxury car or you could put the hammer down and out-drive Porsches on mountain roads. At 2865 lb (coupe) they were light. At 168 HP and 164 lb-ft they were, for the time, fast and even by modern standards they were torquey and smooth. More importantly, they put nothing between the driver and driving, they were real, honest to god, sports cars.

So hopping into the 135i on my way out of New York, I was really hoping to be able to recapture the sense of driving involvement BMWs since that time have slowly lost. Initial signs were good. Very good. Surprised by the amount of instantaneous power on offer, within 500 feet I had the car sideways on a highway on-ramp, my girlfriend’s motion sick sister screaming in the back seat.

The engine dominates initial driving impressions, overwhelming you with its torque and smoothness. Powerful enough to hussle the 4894 lb behemoth that is the BMW X6, here, in a car only a fraction of the size, it’s incredible. Driving it north on I-87, 3,000 RPM is enough to belt you into three figure, license-losing speeds much faster than expected. Delve into the higher RPMs and it feels M3 fast. BMW still knows how to build great engines, and this is probably the best of them.

Things settle down when you readjust yourself to how quickly the 135i can gather speed. Inside the cabin, the little Bimmer is a nice place to spend time. Only a little bit bigger on the inside than an E30, it’s luxurious in the front seat and offers rear seat passengers just enough space they’ll shut up and stop complaining — eventually.

Back when I was in school, I’d sneak out early every Sunday and take my E30 for a spin around a secret country route. Not able to do that every weekend now that I’m all grown up and Ray expects me to get work done, I nevertheless have a similar place that I go in the Catskills anytime I’m handed the keys to something fast. I took the Audi R8 there, the BMW M3 and the Jag XKR too. And that’s where I’m headed in the 135i. Out of all of them, this is the one I’m most excited about. The power, the size, the badge, this is the car for me. At least that’s what I thought until I got up there.

The backroads in the Catskills are narrow, tree-lined and gravel strewn. To go fast you need to have ultimate confidence in your car. That confidence comes through feel and feel is something the 135i doesn’t have. The steering wheel is dead around center, before firming up when turned. But it’s weight, not response that you’re getting. With all the silly nannies switched off, the 135i will oversteer with the best of them. But up here you need to know before that happens and in this car you don’t. Nor does the car reward driver input with involvement. I hate to say it, but the 135i is a fast, but ultimately, boring car to drive.

So here you have everything that should make a great a great BMW: the longitudinal six, rear wheel drive, small dimensions. But in the 135i you get the impression that those are more branding elements than something engineers have included for their fundamental rightness. Creating a car with the packaging compromises of a performance vehicle, but none of the things that would make those compromises worthwhile.

Is the 135i the simple, well-engineered driver’s car that will recapture the hearts of enthusiasts everywhere? I’m sad to report that it isn’t.

Suitability Parameters:
Speed Merchants: Yes
Fashion Victims: Yes
Treehuggers: No
Mack Daddies: No
Tuner Crowd: No
Hairdressers: Yes
Penny Pinchers: No
Euro Snobs: No
Working Stiffs: No
Technogeeks: No
Poseurs: Yes
Soccer Moms: No
Nascar Dads: No
Golfing Grandparents: Yes

Also Consider:
• Audi A5
• BMW 335i Coupe
• Lexus SC4... ahh screw it, if you're reading this you don't want the Lexus
• Mercedes CLK350
• Nissan 350Z
• Waiting for the 2010 Infiniti GT-R

Vitals:
• Manufacturer: Infiniti
• Model year: 2008
• Base Price: $35,550
• Price as Tested: $40,015
• Engine type: 3.7-liter V6
• Horsepower: 330 @ 7,000 RPM
• Torque: 270 @ 5,200 RPM
• Transmission: 6-speed Manual
• Curb Weight: 3,668 lbs
• LxWxH: 183.1" x 71.8" x 54.95"
• Wheelbase: 112.2"
• Tires: P225/45R-P245/40R
• 0 - 60 mph: 5.4 Seconds
• EPA Fuel economy city/highway: 17/26 MPG
• NHTSA crash test rating: N/A

Also see:

• 2008 Infiniti G37S, Part One
• 2008 Infiniti G37S, Part Two

Acceleration: ****
Like a deceased minor character in a bad zombie movie, the G37S comes to life quicker than you'd expect. This has less to do with the wonderful 330 HP 3.7-liter V6 than it does with the clutch, which feels like it engages an inch away from the floor. It's a bit jarring, but you learn to adapt to it and it helps the coupe reach 60 mph in the mid five-second range.

Braking: ****
During a late-night acceleration test on an abandoned back road I was suddenly convinced someone's beloved pet dog was about to wander into my path and become soup. The Infiniti's vented disc brakes bit down hard enough for me to realize that the object in the distance was actually just a rock.

Ride: **
If this were the 2010 Nissan 370Z and not the G37S, the relatively rough ride would be an acceptable and expected trade-off for performance. While the G37S performs well on carefully maintained surfaces, the ride's going to be a bit too rough for the owner that plans on crossing unpreserved patches of pavement on the way to the country club. Driving down an avenue that had yet to receive proper rehab since at least the previous winter, it felt as though someone had clicked on the non-existent massage chair option.

Handling: ***
There aren't many situations where the average owner of this car is going to be unable to stay glued to the road. The quick steering, coupled with grippy summer tires, made it quite an effort to get the rear end to slide out at all. As mentioned in part one, if there's one major shortcoming with the car's handling it's that the heavy weighting of the steering wheel, combined with the quick drive-by-wire response, makes it physically taxing to drive spiritedly over a long period of time, and mentally taxing to determine just how spiritedly the car is going to respond to inputs.

Gearbox: ***
Though the shifter is well positioned and the throws are reasonably short, the six-speed manual transmission in the G37S is one of the car's weaknesses. If you're forced to drive this car in heavy traffic at frequent intervals, the newfound strength developed in your left leg will cause you to walk in circles. The clutch also picks up a new gear almost before you realize you've gotten rid of the old one.

Audio: ****
Though the interface takes some getting used to (why the hell do I have to push DISC to get a playlist on my iPod?), the Infiniti iPod connection is one of the best examples of MP3 integration we've seen. The gigantic 7-inch screen didn't connect to a GPS system and basically served as a multimedia interface, allowing me to see full playlists and song names. The Bose audio system created a crisp sound that filled the cabin and outmatched many of my low-bitrate audio files.

Toys: ***
Though a first aid kit that Velcros into the trunk may not be a toy for most people, I thoroughly enjoyed the novelty of it. Having no GPS system, the bright 7-inch screen is mostly a toy, letting the driver choose between entertainment and climate settings...and not much else.

Value: ****
An Infiniti G37 loaded with the Premium package, Sport package, $550 rear spoiler and destination charge comes in just lower than the base price for both the BMW 335i coupe and Audi A5. Though the BMW may appeal to the performance minded and the Audi has its own partisans, they're both in direct competition with the G37 and neither offer overwhelmingly superior performance or features. Cut out the $3,200 Premium package and you've got an even better deal.

Overall: ***
Having watched way too much of the Olympics, I've come to think of the Infiniti G37S as world-class gymnast, albeit one that's fought its way through countless rounds of qualifying only to take a step on the landing and somehow, mysteriously, displease the Australian judge. Its an adept performer, able to run with its European competitors but, due to a few minor technical deductions, unable to pass them for the gold.

Also see:

• 2008 Infiniti G37S, Part One

The three of us pile our gear into the G37S (first stop cemetery, second stop beach) and we notice a peculiar sign posted inside the trunk. It's an illustration of the rear of the car explaining, in three languages, how to insert a pair of golf bags. Most of the people I knew with this car's predecessor, the G35, were professional twentysomethings with jobs in graphic design and no clue how to spend their money. With this latest version it seems, superficially at least, they've jumped straight to waning midlife crisis.

After trudging through the slow moving traffic that tends to form along the commercial thoroughfares of Chicago, we reach the glorious, though brief, expanse of Lake Shore Drive leading to Evanston and our destination. I purposefully wait at the yellow light, hoping to be at the front of the line to tackle the mostly sheltered onramp. As a first test I leaned hard on the G37's go pedal when the light turned green, hoping to determine the ratio of sport to luxury in this sports luxury coupe but not expecting much. Given how relatively docile the Infiniti's V6 is at low speed I was a bit caught off guard at how rapidly we accelerated up the ramp and into traffic.

I quickly shifted into second, but barely had my bearings before the red tach needle, bathed in a purplish light, bounced against the redline. Oops. Though there's a deep engine note, the well-sealed cabin doesn't allow exterior sounds to dampen the conversation. Ours turned to the proper way to pull up the playlist of an iPod on the large screen in the center of the dash instead of a discussion of how clumsily I launched us onto the highway. It was then I realized that this is a sports car, but one designed with an eye towards hiding that fact from its passengers.

Though there's a lot that keeps the car's athletic nature from the passengers, including the sleek and modern interior, the ride over the uneven and damaged roads leading away from the highway and towards the final resting place is punishing. The plush and aerated leather seats do a decent job of absorbing the blows being translated through the suspension, which in S trim is firmed up a bit, but there's a click every time we hit the slightest bump. It turns out the sound was the clip in the rear passenger's hair hitting the rear glass. It was lucky for her she wasn't any taller.

I pull the G37S through the main arch of the front gate, which is designed to mimic the Alpha and the Omega. The beginning and the end. Unfortunately, the office is closed and we have no idea where, amid the hundreds of plots, his ancestors are actually buried. Though there are narrow concrete paths through the grounds you can only do the searching on foot. After a while having no luck finding his unique last name among the typically Irish-Catholic names (Murphy, Kennedy, O'Brien) I stop to take stock of the coupe.

Compared to the even the most ornamented tributes, the G37S looks almost gaudy. Though in a more austere coat of silver, the massive chrome grille shone like a beacon when the clouds began to break and the 10-spoke wheels practically glittered. Compared to the light coat of paint, the rich red taillights are practically jewels. If the eyes of the dead are upon us, they're thinking we've come along way since the Great Famine.

The cemetery was a truly beautiful and holy place and we were all glad we came. One last time we hoped for some sort of divine inspiration to help us divine the location of the gravestone's, a voice from the other side. We had no such luck. Content that we'd tried our best we set out for the curvy roads ahead, hoping to communicate with the athletic beast lurking beneath the luxurious visage.

The aggressive sports car behind the massive grille came to life as we zipped up and down the ravine, seeming unimpressed with what we considered fun roads. The faster I pushed the car and the harder I sent it into the corners the more unconcerned it became. It wasn't an easy exercise — it took considerable effort and numerous steering inputs to keep it inline — but I was unable to find the point where the G37 was ready to cry uncle.

This apparently indefatigability initially seems like a good trait as, with most cars, the limits are all too apparent. But this didn't feel like an issue of performance but rather of communication. The car's many drive-by-wire and sensor-controlled steering systems work a bit too well, making it hard to get a feel for when the coupe is about to oversteer. The car understood my inputs, but I found it difficult to understand what the car was telling me.

In linguistics, the part of verbal communication not directly related to the phonetic sounds of the words is called prosody. When we stress certain words or draw them out we're trying to send a message, but this is a complex concept and one of the biggest reasons why KITT-like computer-human interaction doesn't work very well. Sadly, the computer inside the G37 is quite smart but it didn't seem to tell me what it planned to do next. I couldn't understand its prosodics.

After a while we gave up and moved on to the beach. We couldn't communicate with the dead and our vehicle couldn't communicate with us, but at the very least pulling up to the beach in a shiny Infiniti coupe communicates to those around us that we've arrived.

Also see:

• 2008 Infiniti G37S, Part Two

Halfway through a day's lapping, halfway around the Lutz Ring and full throttle at the top of third gear is bringing me and a red ZR1 into a 180-degree corner way too fast, while the blind crest just before it — taken at maximum power and maximum cornering — has us way off line too. In any other supercar, especially one as hairy as a Viper or as rear-engined as a 911, this would be a serious moment, probably resulting in one of my notorious off-track excursions. But today I can just haul on the brakes all the way through turn-in and up to the apex and then get back on the power — hard. The result: sweaty palms instead of trashed carbon fiber body work.

The first thing you need to do with the ZR1 is throw out any preconceived notions you have about it. Isn't it just a more extreme Z06 with 131 more horsepower or an answer to a question no one asked? No. It's a comprehensively re-engineered vehicle that shares little in feel with either the standard Corvette or the Z06, outperforming both on the track, obviously, but also, surprisingly, on the road. How? A remarkably civilized yet awesomely powerful engine; an easy-to-use gearbox; compliant-yet-capable suspension; and a chassis that simply overachieves at any task you give it.

While based on the standard car's LS3 V8, the ZR1's LS9 makes its power with the aid of a Roots-type supercharger whose intercooler cover is visible through the tacky Lexan hood window. With 638 HP and 604 lb-ft of torque, its speed should come as no surprise, but its character will. Equipped with a dual-mode exhaust, there's little hint of its performance at low speed, the RPMs dipping if you pull away on light throttle. Up to 2,500 RPM (about all you need on the road — it delivers 320 lb-ft at 1,000 RPM), it feels like something that belongs in a big German luxury car. It's torquey, quiet and, combined with the ZR1's 3,364 lb curb weight, it makes driving effortless.

It's when you begin to climb into higher RPMs at larger throttle openings that the LS9's performance reveals itself in its absurd volume. A second exhaust valve opens, taking the engine note from refined to apocalyptic. The all-consuming sound focuses your attention on nothing but the road in front of you. But it lacks any aural indication of its supercharger. For reasons that escape us, the Corvette engineers went through elaborate steps to eliminate the whine, even doubling the number of teeth on the lobe drive gears to move their sound beyond the human ear's range of perception. Tap into the loud zone and everything in front starts to come at you very fast. 300 HP arrives at just 3,000 RPM before peaking at 6,500, leaving 100 RPM before the redline. The close-ratio gearbox (unique to the ZR1) means shifts come fast, but the wide spread of power and torque means you can leave it in third for pretty much anything above 30 MPH.

Like the engine, that gearbox does little to hint at the ZR1's ultimate performance. A twin-disc clutch leads to easy pedal throw, while a precise gate makes finding gears simple. This isn't a fire-breathing monster, but instead a car anyone could drive competently — even for long distances (it's comfortable) or at high speeds (its limits are so high that you need to try very hard to find them).

In fact, the only thing detracting from the ZR1's grand touring credentials is the interior. The only options on the $103,300 car are an awful set of chrome wheels and the 3ZR upgraded interior package, which succeeds in moving the interior from cheap and nasty into luxurious bass boat territory with more embroidered ZR1 and Corvette logos than my fragile mind could comprehend. We have a hard time accepting the 'value' excuse; for this kind of money we'd no longer like to feel like a Jeff Foxworthy punchline. An automatic transmission is, thankfully, not an option.

The ZR1's road ability is boosted by the two-mode magnetic damping. Select "Touring" on the center-mounted ride-control knob, and, while it can't hide that the ZR1 wears 335/25-20s on the rear, it rides comfortably enough to make you forget you're driving something capable of lapping the Nurburgring in 7:26.4. The damping adjusts itself near-instantaneously to maintain grip on rough surfaces. You won't feel this happen, but you will notice how unflustered the ZR1 is no matter how crappy Michigan roads may be.

The real magic of the ZR1 isn't that it's capable of any of the above, though. It's that it will make you forget all of its intimidating performance figures and fancy technology the second you take a corner at speed. Despite all the headline numbers, this car isn't about power, it's about handling.

Built on the same aluminum-intensive chassis with fancy magnesium bits as the Z06, the ZR1 uses independent suspension all-round, but here it arrives with bespoke tuning capable of coping with the 1.05 lateral Gs the purpose-made Michelins make possible.

Conventional wisdom states that a front engine, rear-wheel drive car capable of these numbers should be incredibly difficult to drive, with a significant predisposition toward slamming into immovable objects, backward. In fact, before driving the car, Ray and I discussed whether or not the ZR1 was set to become the cheapest way to kill an inexperienced driver quickly, but that's simply not the case. It's so competent a car that it makes the 638 HP feel unremarkable. Two people went off-course the day I was at the track, but both did so because they got intimidated by the sheer speed at which they were traveling. Had they simply looked where they wanted to go, instead of off into the grass, the Corvette ZR1 would have made it around the corner — the same nasty off-camber, downhill one both times — much faster than they were actually traveling.

This is only my second track day since getting the cast off and I'm still not back to full health. And, I hate to admit it, but I'm a little more cautious than I used to be. The Lutz Ring is also an incredibly intimidating track. Jim Mero, the guy with the 'Ring record, described it as the best possible preparation for his attempt as it packs all the German track's challenges into a space not two miles long. That includes the lack of run-off — guardrails line the track's fastest corner and you need to get within a couple inches of them to be really fast. But two laps into my first session and I'm ringing the car out in second and third gear. No matter the speed or the amount of ill-advised braking, it turns in and holds a line without drama and accelerates out under full throttle without stepping wide. In fact, it rapidly becomes apparent that, without intentionally trying to do so, I'm incapable of making the ZR1 misbehave. Even topping out the suspension over the track's two jumps then slamming hard on the massive ceramic brakes just as the car regains traction fails to make it lose composure. Just like the two guys who went off, I'm unable to reprogram my brain enough to accept the ZR1's ludicrous speed. This is the first car I can say this about in a long, long time — the ZR1 is too fast for me.

That's not to say I can't enjoy it. This isn't a PlayStation game. The ZR1 is a rear-wheel drive car that needs significant driver input in order to make it around a track or down the road quickly. It's that involvement, not just ultimate speed, that is its reward. Even if it provides you with better tools to do so than anyone else, the Corvette ZR1 still challenges you to try and exploit its performance; it's the level of that challenge and the level of involvement required to meet it that makes the ZR1 truly special.

Photography: Alex Conley

Editor's Note of Thanks: Thank you Sun-Sentinel for not knowing what midnight means!

The 2009 model year takes the Challenger from a low-volume quasi-halo muscle car to a full lineup of three separate trim levels, each with their own engine flavor. The base model SE starts at $21,995, getting a 3.5-liter High Ouput V6 producing 250 HP and an equal number of lb-ft of torque. The top model's still the SRT8, at a starting price of $39,995 and powered by the reliable and huge 6.1-liter Hemi V8 with 425 HP and 420 lb-ft of torque. The middle-of-the-pack R/T hits the showroom floor at a starting price of $29,995 and comes with the 5.7-liter Hemi engine under the hood, producing either 370 HP and 398 lb-ft of torque (when running on premium fuel) or 375 HP and 404 lb-ft of torque, depending on which transmission it's mated to.

Wait, what? Multiple transmissions? Yes muscle car fans, it's what two of these models' engines are mated to that'll give Jalopnik readers cause for celebration. Both the R/T and the SRT8 get an optional Tremec T6060 six-speed manual transmission ported from the Dodge Viper. The option's only available on the Hemi-fied R/T and SRT8 versions, so if you want the V6-powered SE, you'll only end up getting a four-speed automatic. Pity.

The R/T gets another couple of nice features as part of the $995 "Track Pack" manual package — a Hill-start Assist (which was a very nice feature on some of the hills around our drive through New Jersey), a limited-slip differential (the SRT8 gets the LSD standard) and a tuned exhaust system (SRT8 manual gets this as well) that sounds great in the lower gears.

On the road, both the manual Challenger R/T and the Challenger SRT8 felt much more satisfying to drive. Thanks to the auto-only multi-displacement technology, the R/T in both auto-stick and manual transmission models get 16 MPG in the city and 25 MPG on the highway. The 2009 SRT8 gets the same piss-poor 13 MPG city, 19 MPG highway as the 2008 model, but the manual transmission at least gives you an extra mile in the city and an extra three on the highway thanks to that very helpful sixth gear.

Setting aside the benefits of the manual on the road, it's the track where it really becomes useful. Although the 2008 SRT8's automatic transmission had a +/- gate auto-stick mode, I really felt it to be too gimmicky for anything other than making a businessman feel like he was the big man at a stoplight. It's certainly not a transmission you'll feel comfortable using anywhere other than a drag strip — at least not if you want to keep your dignity and control safely intact. Which is why we were excited to hit the Englishtown track. Thanks to coning designed to keep drivers like me from becoming a smear on a wall, I didn't even get the car out of second or third gear on the track. Unfortunate for me, yes, but quite fortunately for the Challenger's clutch plates.

Still, despite the aggressive coning, the smooth clutch gave me greater confidence, and the pistol-grip shifter available with the "Track Pack" felt more comfortable in my hand than the original 70's it's kinda-sorta modeled after. But, a manual shifter alone doesn't make a track car.

The Challenger's still a fatty, as we found when we scrubbed the front tires on the first too-tight turn at speed around the Englishtown course in the R/T and later on in the course with an SRT8. Thanks to the RWD platform, with the nanny system turned all the way off, you're still able to steer with your right foot, just like the 2008 Challenger SRT8 and every other LX-platformed SRT8 and R/T.

So which of the three, if any, is the right choice for you? Sorry Spinelli, but it's certainly not the SE. The automatic transmission and low horsepower mated to a heavy RWD car ensure this will compete not for our attention, but with Midwestern hairdressers as the car of choice to replace their V6 Mustang.

If you're a muscle car madman needing a 0-to-60 time of five seconds, you'll probably want the SRT8, as Dodge estimates the R/T's time to be somewhere just under six seconds. Sure, you could beat the pants off the SRT8 in a straight-line with a Shelby GT500, but it'll cost you significantly more and I'm not sure it'll take to the track any better.

Still, despite the SRT8's bigger engine, we're not sure the 30% higher sticker price justifies the 10% higher horsepower. In our mind, if you want a modern muscle car, the R/T may be right in the sweet spot. In terms of looks, you'll get the same (maybe more with the double-black hood stripes and functional hood scoop of the "Classic" package) double-takes as its stronger brother, the same horrifyingly plastic interior, and you'll do it for a much cheaper sticker price and an almost 20% higher fuel economy rating.

Either way, whether you choose an R/T or an SRT8, you'll still get a Challenger with a manual transmission. Like we said, 2009's better than 2008 by at least one-third.

Suitability Parameters:
Speed Merchants: Yes
Fashion Victims: Yes
Treehuggers: No
Mack Daddies: Yes
Tuner Crowd: No
Hairdressers: No
Penny Pinchers: No
Euro Snobs: No
Working Stiffs: No
Technogeeks: No
Poseurs: No
Soccer Moms: No
Nascar Dads: Yes
Golfing Grandparents: No

Also Consider:
• 2010 Chevy Camaro
• 2009 Dodge Challenger RT
• Dodge Charger Police Package
• Shelby Mustang 350-H
• BMW 335i Coupe
• Infiniti G37
• 1968 Ford Mustang 390 CID Fastback, Highland Green, no badges, dented in the front

Vitals:
• Manufacturer: Ford
• Model year: 2008
• Base price: $27,020
• Price as tested: $34,705
• Engine type: 4.6-liter V8
• Horsepower: 315 @ 6,000 RPM
• Torque: 325 @ 4,250 RPM
• Transmission: 5-speed Manual
• Curb weight: 3,590 lbs
• LxWxH: 187.6" x 73.9" x 55.5"
• Wheelbase: 107.1"
• Tires: P235/55ZR17
• 0 - 60 mph: 5.0 seconds
• EPA fuel economy city/highway: 15/23 MPG
• Jalopnik fuel economy: 18.4 MPG
• NHTSA crash test rating (Front/Driver Side/Passenger Side): *****/*****/****

Also see:
• 2008 Ford Mustang Bullitt, Part One
• 2008 Ford Mustang Bullitt, Part Two

Acceleration: ****
The buff books have been pegging the Bullitt 's 0-to-60 MPH time at around five seconds flat. That just-slightly-faster than a stock Mustang GT time is achieved thanks to a shorter rear-axle ratio, freer-flowing exhaust and an additional jolt of power from a Ford Racing cold air intake. The redline's been pushed to 6500 rpm. None of that, of course, means anything when you're driving it. The force of gravity pulling your ass backwards and the force of glee pulling the corners of your mouth into your cheeks as you smoke the tires is the best measure of speed, and the Bullitt has plenty of both.

Braking: ***
When you're going fast it's hard to remember that you need to stop. In fact, the best check of the brakes occurred not at the end of the drag strip, but rather as I noticed the fuel gauge beeping and the last gas station on an empty road fast approaching. Braking is sufficient, bringing the car to a halt without any theatrics, but it's nothing amazing.

Ride: ****
This is a Mustang? A performance Mustang? Though not Oldsmobuick floaty, it still manages to glide across the road and even off the beaten path it doesn't bitch and moan. I found it hard to believe that this was a heavy muscle car, much less a Mustang, even after driving it all the way across Texas.

Handling: ****
Balance and predictability are the two key factors here. The Bullitt benefits from a unique strut tower brace and new anti-roll bars which give the chassis a solid feel. Other tweaked suspension bits combine for an enjoyable-yet-manageable experience when tossed around at high speed. Accelerate into a turn from a dead stop and the Mustang's signature propensity to fishtail reveals itself, but even that is precise and controllable thanks to the quick steering.

Gearbox: ****
Who cares about six gears? Who cares about fuel economy? Not us so much. Five well-spaced ratios are all we needed to make the Bullitt perform. The globular aluminum shifter knob is comically large and, in the heat of action, leaves the numbers '1' through '5' and the letter 'R' seared backwards into the driver's palm, but it ends up enhancing the experience given how short and easy the throws are. Just add a layer of french fry grease and it becomes part of your hand.

Audio: ***
There's nothing particularly special about the standard-issue Ford system, which comes with an Auxillary input jack and the option of satellite radio. The real audio system is the car's exhaust, which has supposedly been specially tuned to the sounds from Bullitt. I've watched the movie and I can't quite confirm that, but it doesn't much matter; step on the gas and the deep, throaty rumble will have the high-school girl in the V6 Mustang convertible down the block taking a brief recess from consulting her Sidekick to admire it.

Toys: **
The navigation system might be out of place, but it's functional and touchscreen. Designers, sadly, maintained the 'select-your-color' cupholder and footwell lighting that's offered in the basic GT. I tried to keep the color pink as long as I could manage it — about five seconds. Also, no Sync in our test model. But the lack of toys actually speaks well to the car's purpose — driving.

Value: ***
All told, the 2008 Bullitt comes in at a somewhat hefty $34,705 after the ambient lighting option, GPS, and destination and delivery. If you're not willing to give a GT the necessary upgrades on its own, then it's worth every penny. It's seriously the best Mustang Ford makes. They could, and likely will, come out with 15 more special editions before you finish reading this sentence, but the Bullitt would still be the best. How can you say no when it feels so good?

Overall: ****
There are those who would pass on the car because of the gimmick you must first embrace, the gimmick of the car's eponymous film association. Yes, it is a bit silly. But passing on the car for such a reason would be like walking out on the first course of a carefully prepared meal because you don't like the amuse bouche. It would mean passing on the only muscle car with which you could use the term amuse bouche in a review without feeling a little ridiculous.

Also see:
• 2008 Ford Mustang Bullitt, Part Three
2008 Ford Mustang Bullitt, Part One

My journey started in Dallas, a place where, a poet said, they took a billion steers and made them into buildings made of mirrors. A major metropolitan area, Dallas relishes its wealthy, conservative status. It's home to billionaires, 15 at last count, not bulls. You shouldn't underestimate the city as an urban place, like I did. I was scheduled to fly in and pick up the Bullitt just before 5:00 pm, meaning that I got to share in the universal big-city experience of traffic. Though the clutch isn't particularly heavy, the repetitive motion of engaging and disengaging first resulted in some embarrassing soreness.

The next morning I set out early for Austin, anxious to experience the wide open expanse that is Interstate 35 between the two cities. The sun rising over my left shoulder shined against the hand-turned aluminum covering the dash as I marveled at the joy highway driving could bring after two years crisscrossing Chicago. Driving the Bullitt at speed I'm equally amazed at how solid it feels, how smoothly it drives. The construction and attention to detail are so great that I wonder if it doesn't embarrass the engineers to have to go back to working on other Mustangs.

I check my speed as I cross into Waco, which marks the southern border of the Great Plains and the start of the Texas Hill Country. As the road crests, the braking starts, and my eyes scan the border for the black-and-white-and-browns of the Texas Department of Public Safety patrol cars. How unfortunate it would have been to get busted by the Dr. Pepper Squad, as they're pejoratively known, in the town that invented Dr. Pepper. The Bullitt is so stealth and low-key, especially compared to the wildly-striped special editions, I slipped past all law enforcement with ease.

After thirty minutes of sitting around my friend's North Austin apartment, he politely asks what I want to do. We could grab a Shiner Bock at one of the bars situated along the University of Texas' main drag, but my visit to Austin was about more than gawking at leggy coeds. The city sits at the edge of the Balcones Escarpment, remnants of an ancient mountain range, and has the winding roads to prove it.

Without much effort, I'm able to push the Bullitt further and further without feeling like I'm suddenly going to launch the car off the cliff lurking behind a small barrier to my right. I keep downshifting so we can listen to the syncopated thrum of the pony car's eight cylinders projecting off the limestone walls. The quiet American may be a thing, but there's never been a myth about a quiet Texan.

My hunger for the road was nowhere near waning, but the painted sign of the BBQ shack reminded me of an entirely different kind of hunger. As we exited, a group of teenagers walked by, obviously impressed by the sleek pony car. One of them was misled by the lack of a GT badge or spoiler, saying to his friends "It's just the V6 Mustang." Au contraire! I let them know that they shouldn't be confused by the Highland Green paint and lack of badges, this is a special Mustang. I speak with an embarrassing amount of pride given that this isn't actually my car... but that kid needs to be put in his place.

After a weekend in Austin enjoying the abundant and ridiculously good Mexican food, I point my dark green steed toward the coastal plain and Houston. A truly international city with over 90 languages actively spoken, you're more likely to get into a discussion with a Nigerian ex-pat at an exhibit at one of Houston's world-renowned museums than you are to walk into an argument over the proper way to shoe a horse.

About 20 miles out of Houston, in the little town of Sealy, I'm excited to find an unwatched drag strip behind the shop I'm visiting. With no one looking, I push the Mustang to its limits. While my lungs needed time to readjust to the warm, saturated air flowing off the adjacent Gulf of Mexico, the Bullitt inhaled gulps of air and fuel as it propelled me down the track and deeper into my high-backed chair. Though only slightly faster than a stock GT, this particular pony sounds and feels faster. I circled back to the track repeatedly until I realized I had made plans for lunch where I grew up in one of Houston's affluent northern suburbs.

There's nothing better than showing up back home with a car this beautiful and powerful. There are countless Mustangs on the road, but none of them look quite like this. That's why it's so much fun pointing it out to friends, family and people from high school I randomly bump into near the mall. Sure, the car's not mine, but the experience of driving it was too great not to brag about. Modesty is also not a legendary Texas trait.

My work in Houston done, I drove back towards Dallas to drop off the Bullitt and hop on a plane back to Chicago. I still had 200 miles of the rolling, pine-covered terrain of East Texas to cross before I was done but the thought that this was all coming to an end was inescapable. I contemplated turning west, abandoning my responsibilities so I could explore more of this wonderful state.

Even a thousand miles driven in Texas revealed only part of the story of the state and of the car. Texas isn't just cowboys, it's also astronauts and accountants. The Mustang Bullitt isn't just a film homage, it's a typically American car designed to atypically high standards. Though both owe some measure of their popularity to silver screen creation myths involving rogue lawmen and ruthless killers, limiting one's self to fulfilling these antiquated notions means sacrificing an unimaginably glorious and complex present. Lose the boots for some real driving shoes and toss the turtleneck in the trunk. It's Texas: It's too hot for a turtleneck.

Also see:
• 2008 Ford Mustang Bullitt, Part Three
• 2008 Ford Mustang Bullitt, Part Two

(Photos Copyright Matt Hardigree/Jalopnik)

Suitability Parameters:
Speed Merchants: Yes
Fashion Victims: Yes
Treehuggers: No
Mack Daddies: Yes
Tuner Crowd: No
Hairdressers: No
Penny Pinchers: No
Euro Snobs: No
Working Stiffs: Yes
Technogeeks: No
Poseurs: Yes
Soccer Moms: No
Nascar Dads: Yes
Golfing Grandparents: No

Also Consider:
• 2008 Ford Mustang GT500
• 2008 Dodge Charger SRT8
• Waiting for the 2010 Chevy Camaro SS
• Waiting for the 2010 Ford Mustang GT500
• Sitting at home and drinking oil straight from a barrel.

Vitals:
• Manufacturer: Dodge
• Make: Challenger SRT8
• Model year: 2008
• Base Price: $37,320
• Price as Tested: $41,310
• Engine type: 6.1-liter SRT HEMI V8
• Horsepower: 425 @ 6,200 RPM
• Torque: 420 @ 4,800 RPM
• Transmission: 5-speed Automatic
• Curb Weight: 4,103 lbs
• LxWxH: 197.7" x 75.7" x 57"
• Wheelbase: 116"
• Tires: 245/45ZR20 - Front; 255/45ZR20 - Rear Performance Tires
• 0 - 60 mph: 5.13 seconds (as tested with onboard 0-to-60 meter)
• EPA Fuel economy city/highway: 13/18 MPG
• NHTSA crash test rating: *****

Also see:
• 2008 Dodge Challenger SRT8, Part One
• 2008 Dodge Challenger SRT8, Part Two

Photo Credit: Dane VanSlembrouck

Note to Hoonage-Seeking Readers: We're not done yet. More to come on Monday...

Acceleration: ***
God, I love the built-for-America 6.1-liter Hemi engine. 425 HP and an almost equal amount of torque help make the performance tires on this beast squeal at the green light like it's a drag strip Christmas tree. Still, we're talking about 425 horses under the hood. It should jump harder, faster, stronger. It may have something to do with the 4100+ pounds it's trying to carry along for the ride.

Braking: ****
The big Brembos help this pony "whoa!" with the quickest of ease and you can't ask for much more than that.

Ride: ****
The nice thing about the Challenger is it's on the steady and capable LX platform. Unlike the bone-rattling ride of a Shelby GT500, the Challenger sweeps over the road, requiring a large pothole to even jostle it and taking the very largest to get anywhere near uncomfortable.

Handling: ****
I love to mash the gas around a corner, and there's nothing like feeling that back end sweep outward as I steer with my right foot; the multilink suspension in the back makes that kind of hoonage effortless.

Gearbox: **
Crap. OK, here's the rub with the 2008 Challenger SRT8 — it's automatic only. While it's great for the straight-line racing crowd looking for solid, dependable and always-the-same 0-to-60 times, it's not really great for us. And the +/- gate on the shifter is an annoyance at best. We'll apparently have to wait until the 2009 model year before we'll have a chance to see this car with the gearbox it was always meant to have.

Audio: ***
Our test unit was equipped with MyGig, but the damnable contraption wouldn't recognize our third-gen video iPod. So my "Muscle Car Meltdown" mix had to be played using the aux input rather than the preferred USB jack. Still, the big subwoofer kept pace with the low grumble of the exhaust well enough to make me happy.

Toys: ****
Good god, there's some fun toys in here. Even if you ignore the issues with MyGig, the 1/4 mile, 1/8 mile, G-force and braking meters make up for it in spades. Also, it has heated seats.

Value: ***
The fuel economy is blood-draining-from-the-face bad — 13 MPG city, 18 MPG highway. But with an as-tested sticker price of $41,000 — and reports of $70K+ including the dealer price gouging — if you're buying this car, you shouldn't care less.

Overall: ****
Breathtakingly stunning looks, high horsepower and rear-wheel drive overcome gearbox issues, weight, a mediocre interior, and piss-poor gas mileage any day of the week. Yeah, yeah, I know. On any other vehicle, I'd award three stars, but seriously, it's a 2008 Dodge FREAKIN' Challenger SRT8. Those classic, proportionally sound muscle car looks just feel so good. It's a shame Chrysler didn't build this car much sooner.

Also see:
• 2008 Dodge Challenger SRT8, Part One

I picked up the Challenger from Chrysler's fleet company in Madison Heights yesterday afternoon. Despite an itch to hit the road immediately, we first needed the obligatory glamour shots taken by Metro Detroit's star photographer Fabrizio Costantini and a quick bite to eat. So it wasn't until late yesterday night when I finally had the chance to take the new Mustang-killer out onto Woodward.

A few hours more doesn't bother someone that's waited three years since their first fleeting glimpse of the Challenger across a crowded Detroit Auto Show press introduction. Still, my excitement was obvious — if anyone had been looking that late at night — as I eased the muscle-bound two-door out on to the road and pointed the LX sedan-sans-two doors onto Northbound Woodward Avenue. I don't even know why I tried to contain my feelings. How can a person not be excited when they're driving a car with sheet metal so brilliantly retrospectively-inspired you're actually able to believe orange can work as a car color again?

Plus there's that power. Despite the Challenger's hefty 4,100 lb. weight, the big 425 HP 6.1-liter Hemi the Challenger SRT8 shares with its bigger, four-doored brother allows it to blast away from stoplights. Each and every time, we were provided with the effortless gratification of squealing performance radials.

But I grew up on Woodward Avenue. I know at night the police lay in wait, watching the stoplights, pens at the ready in eager anticipation of tickets to be signed and handed to unsuspecting hoons careless enough to do burnouts. I had no desire to be stopped tonight. Tonight, the fun for me is cruising my past with a car that's more of a time machine than any DeLorean. I wanted to drive. So I drove.

I drove past the hospital where I was born. Past the Red Coat Tavern, where my mom had once been a bartender and where she'd met my father. Past Vinsetta Garage, Michigan's oldest palace of wrench-turning — and a lot where I'd spent many an evening in my teenage years peering through the chain-link fence, trying to discern the differences between muscle cars by shape under bulky car covers. Past Birmingham, where I'd taken my driver's training and first kissed a girl. Past Cranbrook, my high school arch-rivals. Past Long Lake, and the remnants of the Fox & Hounds grill and across from the Merrill Lynch office my father, now gone, worked at over a decade ago. I drove past old family homes, old restaurants and old memories.

It's a credit to how similarly roomy this new Challenger is to the old early-'70s muscle car that I hardly noticed when I'd pulled around Pontiac and was already heading back to Royal Oak. The strongly side-bolstered seats and comfortable-to-grip steering wheel helped me to pass where I'd begun my trip so effortlessly, I decided to keep going — down all the way to where Woodward Avenue ends at the Detroit River. Not having enough of that low rumbling exhaust, I turned the beast around, rear wheels competently holding on as I steered with my right foot and came right back up Woodward. I did this over and over again last night. Each time, emotions long thought dormant welled up inside of me at every red light and would quickly explode outward on every green.

Gone were any cares of the day. The photos? Meaningless. Writing the review? Means nothing to me. The price of gas and a rating of 18 MPG? Ha! These are little things for little people. I'm a man — a real man driving a brand new meaty Mopar muscle car — something Motor City denizens haven't done in decades. The only thing that matters is continuing to drive.

OK, so it turns out there's one thing that matters more. Exhaustion. I pulled into the garage in the wee hours of this morning feeling emotionally drained, but with a wan smile on my face. Why shouldn't I? I knew I'd get to take it out again this morning. And that's exactly what I did, four hours of sweet sleep later and after waking with that smile from the night before still firmly affixed to my face.

The first thing that I noticed as CEO Stephen Wynne showed me around the main facility of the DeLorean Motor Company, tucked away in a tree-hidden neighborhood outside of Houston, are the rows and rows and rows of gullwing doors. He's got around 1,000 doors; 500 left and 500 right. He also has numerous copies of the 2,850 other parts that makeup the DeLorean, still in the shelving units from the factory in Belfast, Ireland.

Also check out our look inside the future of DeLorean.

To understand how a factory in Northern Ireland landed in a small town in southeast Texas requires a brief history lesson. Designed to be an affordable and attractive mid-engined sports car by famed American engineer and auto executive John DeLorean, the DMC-12 was built in Belfast as part of a deal with the British Government, which fronted a great deal of money for the project.

After a long period of design changes and budget issues, Delorean began construction in early 1981 and continued until late 1982, when the company went bankrupt and John DeLorean was arrested on charges of conspiracy to traffic drugs (he was later let go after proving entrapment). Hoping to continue to bilk money from the government in order to save the company, which was happy to have the employment in Northern Ireland, DeLorean ordered up parts for more cars from the suppliers.

The last unfinished cars were assembled by a company now known as Big Lots — no joke — and all the cars, parts and even the storage bins were shipped to Columbus, Ohio, where they sat until Wynne bought it all and transported it to Houston. And though he has enough parts to last "two-and-a-half lifetimes" by his own estimates, he also has the engineering documents for every piece, meaning that the company is able to authentically rebuild parts that have gone extinct.

The company's business model includes normal operations, such as running service centers in five U.S. states and The Netherlands, as well as selling parts and DMC-branded merchandise to enthusiasts. There's also a quarterly publication, deloreans, which not only chronicles the car's history and provides technical and historical information, but also works as a convincing sales tool. I totally want to replace the stock bulbs with LED lights... and I don't even own a DeLorean.

The company has also been working with suppliers to develop interior, engine and suspension enhancements for owners. In the works is a stage-three supercharged engine kit with a goal of 250-to-300 horsepower, assuming they can make the technology durable. Finally, the company is in the process of building a handful of new-build cars using a mixture of original parts and new components. Basically, a new car with a mixture of old and new technology.

Given how enthusiastic DeLorean owners are about their cars, it's probably a fairly sustainable business. On the day I toured the shop, architect Don Williams was excited to be picking up his car, one of the 1983 "Big Lots" models. His love for the car is so great that the DMC-12 is his daily driver, having sold off his RX-7 and motorcycle. Upon his death, the Smithsonian has agreed to take his car (it doesn't have one yet).

For Williams, the main reason he owns one is "vanity." His claim was that there are few other cars one could drive that would draw as much attention. This was a theory I had to put to the test, so Wynne and I jumped in a recently renovated 1982 model DMC-12 with the upgraded Eibach suspension.

The interior is definitely 1980s era, despite the MP3-player. The switches for the small working windows are as large as dominoes. Despite the grey plastics, the interior does feel quasi-futuristic, heightened by the clunk as you pull the doors towards you. Nevertheless, it's surprisingly roomy for a mid-engined sports car, designed to fit the large frame of the 6' 4" DeLorean.

Though not exactly quick, the car's V6, designed as a joint venture between Peugeot-Renault-Volvo, provides enough power to keep up with traffic (around 137 horsepower in stock form). Even as we zoom past the time travel-inducing speed of 88 mph towards the century mark, the car feels remarkably solid considering it is actually older than I am. But I'm too busy enjoying traffic slipping by to notice whether anyone notices us.

We pull into a Sonic drive-in for pictures and novelty's sake before moving to the Starbucks for an afternoon caffeine fix. It's there that one of the car's quirks becomes clear. Because of the door design, the glass can't roll down. Instead, a much smaller portion of the window retracts, not exactly ideal for anything larger than a coffee cup. To facilitate getting the coffee you have to open up the gullwing door, something that immediately amuses the young woman running the drive-thru.

There are no cupholders, a minor drawback, so we sip our coffees in the parking lot of a nearby bank as car after car after truck (it is Texas) slows down to check it out. I've driven a range of production and prototype cars and this, I must admit, is the most attention I've gotten. Williams says that he ends up letting people take pictures in his car nearly every time he goes to a crowded place. Wynne repeats this sentiment, noting how most people won't approach the owner of a Ferrari or a Porsche (nor has history taught me that they want to be approached) but that they'll happily walk up to someone in a DMC-12.

Coffee finished and back on the road, visibility isn't much of an issue, though I immediately feel lower than any car on the road. The pedals are also quite close together, making me wish I'd worn narrower shoes. I engage the clutch and search for first, momentarily confused by the five-speed's gear setup (reverse is down left, not down right).

Out onto the somewhat crowded road I accelerate, if that's the right word for it, past slower traffic. It's about as fast as my fiancee's Honda Civic, though it feels like I'm going much faster. Overall, the tuned suspension helps it stay remarkably smooth over bumps. It doesn't seem at all a chore to drive and, opposed to popular myth, the A/C holds up well to the Texas heat.

And then you turn.

There's no power steering and, though the backbone chassis design is similar to that of a Lotus Esprit and the new suspension helps keep me from scraping the steel body along the ground, there's more effort needed to steer than you'd expect for a car that weighs in around 2,700 pounds. I'm at least glad the disc brakes on all the corners work, because when the speedometer goes out I'm too busy trying to estimate my speed to undertake any sharp stops.

Given the choice to turn left toward the factory or U-turn for more fun in the DMC-12 I understandably take the latter. Though it's certainly more work to drive than a modern sports car, it's still fun. The design is so unique and the history of the car so rich that the more undesirable aspects of driving sort of drift away.

Back at HQ the car gets driven back into the shop while I wander once more into the great warehouse to take pictures and marvel at the walls of parts and the novelty of a small slice of European and American automotive history existing, so well-preserved, in freaking Humble, Texas.

Acceleration:**
Thank the Lord this was the 232 horsepower version (both motors have the same 159 ft/lb torque rating) of the RX-8, because it needs it all. Serious tail-twisting mechanical Wankelry is required to make time in this car, and it's a dog in traffic. On the numbers it might earn a third star, but persuading it to do so is more hard work than it should be.

Braking:****
Very nice. Precise, smooth, lets you know exactly what's going on. And the calipers are plain old caliper-colored, despite recent attempts by automakers to turn them into some sort of jewelry-like accessory for your wheels. ABS shows up a bit earlier than many will appreciate.

Ride:****
Should be far worse than it is for as well as it handles. You 'll know it when there's bad pavement underneath you, but you won't worry about it too much.

Handling:*****
Outstanding, gorgeous, superlative, predictable, and lots of fun. Whether you decide to steer with your hands or your right foot, this car will do exactly what you want all day. The RX-8 is a rather light car to begin with, but once it's in a groove it seems to drop about 500 pounds. A real hero-maker.

Gearbox:**
Look, our car may be an anomaly, as many RX-8 owners love their 5- and 6-speeds, but this Aisin/Mazda co-manufactured gearbox was kind of a chore. Short throws aren't much of an advantage when you feel you need a home-run swing to select the next gear.

Audio:****
Nine Bose speakers with 300 watts behind them and a fairly intuitive button cluster. Very good sound, but no MP3 player hookup.

Toys:***
The 40th Anniversary Edition comes with just the normal stuff standard, like heated seats and Homelink and so on, although it's very well-executed normal stuff. But don't forget, it has fratricide —er, Free Style doors, if those count. We think they do.

Value:***
If you want one of these, it's worth it—What else is like it? However, at $32,594, you might opt for, say, the 350z or the G37 with their increased torque and normalcy, not to mention far better fuel economy.

Overall: ****
There's no denying the RX-8 is a lot of quirk and a lot of work. But this lovable oddball has charisma by the bucketload, even if you do need bucketloads of patience, good humor, and gasoline to live with it every day. Plus more than a few pails of high-quality synthetic oil. But even with all that, I'd own an RX-8 in a second. Maybe it's because I'm a dedicated oddball and a sucker for a light, agile, fairly unique car. Maybe that should worry me, but to hell with it — I'm not yet too old to believe that lots of good moves and a few big laughs just might make up for a little drinking problem.

Also see:

• 2008 Mazda RX-8, Part One

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