TO A 6-YEAR-OLD BOY, it was like the key to all the mysteries of adulthood there in my uncle’s garage: the attitude, the suggestion of performance, freedom, even danger. Most of all, boundless amusement. It was a 1967 Chevrolet Corvette Sting Ray convertible — tuxedo black, gleaming side mufflers — a car my uncle drove until the floorboards had rusted so severely that you could reach your foot down and touch the pavement, like Fred Flintstone. The day he let me sit in the cockpit and wrap my fingers around the wheel was the day I became a lifelong car freak.

Now is the season for top-down driving, and though the list of great roadsters and cabriolets is long — Jaguar’s Series One E-Type convertible and Ferrari’s 250 GT California come to mind — the ’67 Corvette Sting Ray still stands out as the single greatest ragtop model ever to catwalk down a road, not only for its beauty and agility but for what it stands for. New cars can send email and microwave popcorn; many practically drive themselves. What they lack? Rawness and the kind of iconography that comes only with time.

The Corvette was originally intended to be topless. It was unveiled at the Waldorf-Astoria in New York on Jan. 17, 1953, a roadster in an automobile stylist’s version of a wedding gown — pearl white paint, white steering wheel, whitewall tires. Chevy executives rigged secret microphones around the car to record viewers’ impressions. They ended up with reels full of expletives.

By 1967, the car was at the end of its second generation, and the model was something special: a perfect pairing of exotic Euro styling and hard-nosed American muscle. It was the last of its generation and came with an optional all new 427 Turbo-Jet V8 (a $437.10 addon), the most powerful production engine money could buy. The convertible was either a removable hardtop or foldable vinyl ragtop. “No need to ask whether Corvette for ’67 is a luxury car or a sports car,” the brochure read. “You can see for yourself it’s both.” The ’67 ’Vette was the second-highest-selling model ever and marketed itself beautifully on racetracks, grabbing checkered flags all over the globe.

None of which really gets at why it’s the greatest ever. The year 1967 is remembered for the Summer of Love, but the cultural movement that gripped America even more than filthy hair and beads was muscle car mania. International racing would never again be so popular. Icons like A.J. Foyt and Dan Gurney (who won Le Mans that year in an “All American” victory for Ford Motor Company), were demigods. Nobody cared about the price of gas (it was 33 cents a gallon); all that mattered was how fast a car could go, even if you had no destination. “Never before has a romance between man and machine blazed so strongly,” commented an L.A. Times columnist.

In other words, this was youthful American spirit at its pinnacle — before the Vietnam draft, before the death of Jimi Hendrix, before extensive emissions regulations and Watergate paranoia. No automobile captured the moment more than the convertible Corvette did 44 summers ago. It is an emblem of optimism and adventure, of a time when the right thing to do was what you weren’t supposed to. It is the endless summer on wheels.

Good luck finding one today that you can afford, though. Especially one with floorboards.

A.J. BAIME is the author of Go Like Hell: Ford, Ferrari, and Their Battle for Speed and Glory at Le Mans. He drives a dirty Subaru.

DOIN’ THAT RAG

Mess up your hair in one of these 2012 so tops

Chrysler 200
$24,175
The old Sebring has been replaced by the 200. It’s not speedy and it’s no Gisele Bündchen. But if you want a new, affordable convertible runabout, this is it.

Shelby Cobra
$69,995
To mark the 50th anniversary of Carroll Shelby’s Cobra, Shelby will make limited-edition Cobras that look just like the originals. Order now; they’ll hit the streets next summer.

BMW 650i
$90,500
BMW’s 6-series reboot, in showrooms right now, is a serious piece of machinery. The twin-turbo 4.4-liter V8 is sure to get the engine in your rib cage pumping.

Saab 9-3 Aero
$44,080
Based on the Saab Aero-X concept, this ragtop — which received a significant overhaul for this model year — is tougher than you’d think.

ON A ROAD HIGH ABOVE the tiny village of Eze Bord de Mer, midway between Monaco to the west and Nice to the east, there is a terrible traffic jam. This isn’t uncommon in this ancient and densely settled corner of the world, where celebrities and royalty compete ferociously for the attention of paparazzi, and tourists come to gawk at the twinkling turquoise Mediterranean Sea and maybe even at Bono, the U2 crooner who lives somewhere along the village strand.

My 2011 Volkswagen Touareg Hybrid—the first hybrid SUV from VW’s well-stocked stable—has shut itself down as it idles in front of a world-famous perfumery called Fragonard. The new Touareg is the second generation of VW’s signature SUV, and the platform has been completely rebuilt for 2011. That means significantly refined styling of the exterior: The headlights are now bedazzled with LEDs that look like sparkly eyeliner after sunset; the grille has two sexy, low-slung air intakes, and the rear haunches are now more pronounced, giving this once- mild 5,135-pounder a slightly more aggressive stance.

For the interior the engineers of Wolfsburg have cribbed numerous details from the Cayenne, made by VW’s sister shop, Porsche.

The seats—particularly in the back—are roomy and fully adjustable, the navigation system quick and bright, and the sunroof is a full 350 percent bigger than its predecessor.

But the most significant upgrade to the Touareg is the dazzling new hybrid engine, a seductive coupling of the same 334-horsepower V-6 found in the Audi S4 with a 46-horsepower electric motor. The result is a powerplant that can run on electricity alone at speeds up to 99 mph. And while it isn’t as efficient as the diesel TDI (25 mpg in the city, versus the diesel’s 29), it has a much lower emissions rating.

When the traffic finally gets moving, I spin up into the mountains and break free from the pack. On downhills, the Touareg shows off part of what makes this brilliant hybrid combo the best on the road: I let up slightly on the throttle at 60 mph and the gas engine shuts down. With the windows up, I hear only the breeze and the buzzing of insects coming from the roadside brush. Five miles of scrub pines whiz past before the gas engine kicks in, when I come to a pronounced uphill stretch.

Last year, VW announced to the world that it plans to become the world’s largest automaker by 2014. That means that it needs to beat out the top manufacturers in the United States—a tall order—and it needs the Touareg to play a major role in the uprising. While hybrids lose out to diesels here in the sunny hills of France, VW is hoping to sell plenty overseas. The question is, are Americans buying?

THERE ARE FEW SUCCESS STORIES in the history of knockoffs, but then few knockoffs are produced in the same factory as the original. The Patrol T is made by Ural, a Russian company that moved into the BMW motorcycle factory after Stalin marched into Germany at the end of World War II. And rumor has it that before that, the Russians smuggled a BMW R71 through Sweden and reverse- engineered it, in the process designing one of the most rugged and enduring, if not exactly the fastest, motorcycles in postwar Europe.

Much to the delight of American moto enthusiasts, the latest evolution of this Russian three-wheeler has finally hit the States. A reassuring departure from the energy drink– fueled Frankencycles that emerge from places like Jesse James’ Monster Garage, the Ural is stylish in an understated, utilitarian way. (Plus its matte olive paint scheme makes it look as though it’s come straight out of Raiders of the Lost Ark.)

Though it has the vintage platform and look, the new $13,999 Ural (as shown here) is actually built from a conglomeration of parts: Brembo brakes, Sachs shocks, Herzog gears, Domino grips, Keihin carburetors. With the pull of a lever, a drive shaft leading to the sidecar wheel engages, making it the world’s only two- wheel-drive motorcycle. Na zdrovie.

I’M DRIVING DOWN HIGHWAY I-94 in Michigan, trying to get as close to the car in front of me as I possibly can. My every instinct screams Slow down! Instead, I hit the gas. Seconds from a collision, a bright red line lights up on my windshield and a loud chime sounds, warning me to hit my brakes. Terrifying though it is, this is my real-world introduction to cars that pay attention, even when you don’t.

Some cars already communicate with drivers, telling you if someone is lingering in your blind spot, or automatically slowing down if you’re getting too close to the car in front of you. But Ford is part of a consortium of automakers that is upping the ante. In collaboration with Mercedes, GM, Toyota, Volkswagen and others, it’s developing what is known as “vehicle-to-vehicle” and “vehicle- to-infrastructure” communication, in which cars talk to each other and to traffic signals to anticipate dangerous situations. And they’re getting a little help from the Department of Transportation, which contributed about $11.5 million to the effort in 2010.

With this technology, messages are sent wirelessly from one car to another and from cars to traffic signals using dedicated short-range radios that can see 360 degrees around the car. Over time, radios will likewise be installed in traffic signal equipment, along with dedicated short-range communication antennas that will provide GPS information to cars so they can better navigate the road.

I’m able to see all this in action in an Escape Hybrid at Ford’s product development campus. Shawn Brovold, a young product design engineer, is piloting a Ford Flex. First, I drive toward an intersection to try out the “stop sign violation warning.” As I approach the sign without slowing down, lights flash on my windshield, and a female voice calmly says “Stop sign.” Approaching the next intersection, I speed up, but so does Brovold in his Flex, which is coming at me from the left. Moments before a collision, another warning tells me to brake. I do what it tells me.

Out on the highway, we test a more advanced Wi-Fi-enabled blind spot warning system. While current blind spot technologies tell you when a car is already in your blind spot, the next generation can tell you when a car is going to be in your blind spot. When I try to make a lane change with the Flex gaining on my right, an orange icon appears in my right-hand mirror telling me to stay put. Brovold then pulls two cars ahead of me and hits his brakes. I immediately get a warning to slow down, demonstrating the Escape’s ability to see through obstacles in the car’s path.

The U.S. Department of Transportation plans to issue a ruling by 2013 on whether the program holds enough promise to move forward. If it green-lights the technology, the soonest it would appear in cars in a significant way would be 2018. The next step after that—autonomous, Jetsons-style cars— is even farther off. This leaves us plenty of time to get used to the unsettling idea of cars, once submissive, doing the driving for us.

Automotive journalist JULIE HALPERT has thus far avoided any serious collisions— without help from her car.

FEW THINGS SCARE BUZZARDS on a lonely desert road like the roar of a pegged V10 engine on a straightaway. And few modern cars deploy the V10 with such sublime perfection as the Audi R8 Spyder Quattro. After testing the all-wheel-drive system and the 14.4- inch brakes on the roads winding out of the Palomar Range outside San Diego, I’m looking to stretch the engine’s legs a bit.

When the R8 first hit the road in 2007, it signaled something like a call to arms for Audi’s design team. Inspired by the company’s LeMans race car and built on a Lamborghini Gallardo platform (Audi and Lambo are siblings in the Volkswagen family), the R8 was devastatingly fast, with a malevolent look. It was the first supercar to emerge from Audi’s shop in Munich, and for the money ($160,000), few cars could match it.

Now comes the next evolution of this monster: the 2011 R8 Spyder V10, a convertible version of the old R8 that is faster, techier and—naturally—pricier than the previous iteration. According to one of Audi’s engineers, “The goal with the Spyder is to take everything visceral about the R8 and amplify it.”

Amplify it indeed. The Spyder has a growling 5.2-liter V10 engine that generates 525 horsepower and 325 pound-feet of torque. There’s a slew of additional technical features that should quiet the nerdiest of car nerds. Audi “Magnetic Ride” automatically adjusts the chassis to the terrain, and even the underbody has an aerodynamic shape. Like many top-end rides, it can connect with your phone via Bluetooth, but the R8 also has microphones in the seatbelts, so you can quietly make dinner plans while the top is down. There’s also a “launch control,” which maximizes acceleration from a dead stop. The Spyder clocks zero to 60 in 3.7 seconds.

As the R8 blasts eastward on Route 75 toward the Salton Sea and the desert beyond, I contemplate testing its reported top speed (195 mph). Instead, I call my wife to discuss dinner. Doing the right thing never felt so good.

8 IS ENOUGH

The R8 Spyder’s finer points

The LED running lights on the grill are as sinister as the car’s price ($160,000 and up).

Newly installed side vents feed air to the rear brakes and the gearbox. They also look cool.

The 5.2-liter midchassis V10 engine churns out 525 horsepower and hits 60 mph in 3.7 seconds.

SNAKING THROUGH COLORADO’S ROCKY Mountains, the San Juan Skyway might just be the most physically stunning road in the country. Starting in the celebrity- studded town of Telluride and winding through Durango and Silverton, the road reveals snowcapped 14,000-foot peaks, red-streaked rock formations, green prairies with big brown bison and Ralph Lauren’s sprawling ranch. There are very few automobiles that can stand toe to toe with such a mesmerizing road. One of them is the 2011 Bentley Continental Supersports Convertible.

The topless Supersports is the latest and greatest version of the Bentley Continental platform, first offered to the public in 2003. Under the hood, a 6.0-liter, twin-turbo W12 produces an astonishing 621 horsepower (up from 556) and an equally shocking 590 pound-feet of torque (up from 553). Supercar numbers, without question.

Supercar stats, too: The Supersports rockets to 60 mph in an elite 3.9 seconds, and its top speed (not recommended) is 197 mph with the three-layer roof tucked away. With its top up, this big brute tops out at 202 mph (definitely not recommended). Either number makes this the fastest four-seat convertible in the world. And the two turbochargers feed enough air into the motor that even at 11,000 feet the engine suffers no shortage of power—I didn’t make it to 197, in part because I ran out of straight tarmac. The Skyway is nearly 250 miles of curves, which the Bentley eats up with an evil ease.

In the spirit of keeping the Supersports’ weight down, Bentley has traded a few of its full-tilt luxury accommodations. Forget about handrubbed burl wood veneers; carbon fiber is the luxury material of choice—on the dash, the doors, the seats, you name it. Of course, you’ll still find stainless steel organ-stop vent pulls—it is after all a Bentley. You can tell by the price tag: $280,000 and up. That’s huge money, even for Ralph Lauren. In situations like this, I often find myself turning to philosophers more knowledgeable than I. Said Ferris Bueller, “If you have the means, I highly recommend picking one up.”

Motor Trend senior editor JONNY LIEBERMAN is waiting for an invite to Ralph Lauren’s ranch.

BIG BENTLEY

Nothing about this burly English bulldog is small.

The 16.54-inch brakes are the largest on any production car.

The 6.0-liter twin- turbo W12 is the most powerful Bentley motor.

The top speed with the roof up is an immodest 202 mph.

The price tag of $280,000 isn’t Bentley’s largest, but it still hurts.

SOME OF THE BRIGHTEST minds in popular music have sung about the Ford Mustang, from Chuck Berry (“My Mustang Ford”) and Wilson Pickett (“Mustang Sally”) to T. Rex (“Mustang Ford”). In 1968, Frenchman Serge Gainsbourg had a hit with “Ford Mustang,” and the car wasn’t even sold in France. Rapper Vanilla Ice even gave it a go with his timeless “Rollin’ in My 5.0.” The list is long and distinguished.

The 2011 Mustang GT deserves a song as well. It’s fast as all get-out and more beautiful than ever. I’m no songwriter, but raging back and forth on a closed course at an airfield in the hills near Sonoma, California, I’m envisioning some serious heavy metal at high volume. The new Mustang GT is powered by a 5.0-liter V-8 and churns out 412 horsepower and 390 pound-feet of torque. It’s faster, more bumptious and—if you opt for the automatic gearbox (which I don’t, no way, never)—more economical: 25 miles per gallon on the highway. The V-6 version, despite getting 31 miles per gallon, is nonetheless fast enough to melt Vanilla Ice.

Here’s the beauty of the Ford Mustang: Contrary to all trends, Ford sticks to its guns. When fuel costs go up, Mustang goes bigger. When the market slows, the Mustang goes faster. And as other makers resurrect pony cars after years of dormancy (Dodge Challenger, Chevrolet Camaro), the Ford Motor Co. has kept the ’Stang production line humming all the while, for better (the 1967 Fastback; the 2011 GT) or worse (the anemic 1984 model and its 88 horsepower wheezer).

Out on the track, I blast through a quarter-mile run in 12.2 seconds, which is rip-snorting fast. Like all great American pony cars, the Mustang is fiendishly powerful (as are the Challenger and the Camaro—both excellent cars in their own right).

This beast has a refined and demonic look, a sleek representation of modern raw power, with a sweeping beltline and kicked-up haunches. The hood has an angry bulge—what Ford calls a “power dome”—that hints at the forces beneath, and the aggressive front fascia actually seems evil without appearing to try too hard. I guess that’s what keeping the Mustang factory open for all these years gets them: a fully evolved king of the road.

Under the “power dome” is a brand new 412-hp, 5.0-liter V-8.

Smoked-metallic rims hide optional 14-inch Brembo brakes.

A short-throw six-speed manual transmission flies through the gears.

At 3,605 pounds, it’s not light, but the GT still manages 26 mpg on the highway.

THERE ARE SUNNY DAYS, and then there are sunny days in L.A. The light here— golden and chock-full of good vibes—is best experienced in a convertible. A fast one. With a great sound system. Something like the 2010 BMW M3, a class leader with impeccable lines and a very rowdy inner life.

The Bimmer is a car with movie star good looks, but its real talent lies under the hood, where it hides a highly immodest turbo-charged 4.0-liter V-8 that churns out 414 horsepower and 295 foot pounds of torque—enough to pin you to the expertly crafted seat and keep you there in a warm embrace. The setup includes a nav system that gives you several route options and integrates real-time traffic reports— critical information in the stop-and-go world of L.A. driving. Could this be the ultimate SoCal ride? Over the course of a day spent darting from Beverly Hills to a backyard barbecue in Silverlake to a Fatburger in West Hollywood and along some of the most beloved canyon roads in the world, I aim to find out.

Alas, the M3 has the mileage of a bygone time (16 mpg combined), so I start off at dawn with an injection of karma at a power-yoga class on the beach in Santa Monica. Afterward I sip water from a coconut, open the hard-top roof, climb down into the low-slung cockpit and push the “engine start” button. The V-8 roars to life. I parade past a long line of parked Priuses on Main Street, and heads turn. The M3 is a vision of beauty with the growl of a guard dog and the grace of a yogi.

As I pick my way across town, through West Hollywood and Beverly Hills, the warm air dries the perspiration in my hair. Eventually I guide the M3 onto the I-10 to Topanga Canyon and find one of the sweetest strips of tarmac ever laid: Mulholland Drive. With the majestic sun setting over the Pacific, I rocket into winding blind curves and drops in elevation. The wide tires hoover the asphalt in the turns. The brakes are 14-inch dinner platters. The air is rich with eucalyptus and lavender blossoms—the whole canyon smells like an ayurvedic spa— and as I stop at the intersection of the Pacific Coast Highway, a Beach Boys song comes on the radio. Brian Wilson is singing about his little deuce coupe; he thinks that “if I had a set of wings man I know she could fly.” I know exactly what he means. Los Angeles never felt so good.

IT IS SAID THAT when the first European explorers came over the horizon in the Caribbean, the geometry of masts and sails and the sheer bulk of the approaching wooden hulls were so alien to the eyes of the native population that many of them simply couldn’t process what they were seeing. That’s how I feel when I first encounter the 2010 Porsche Panamera Turbo in a garage full of equally luxurious cars. With its classic spoon-front grille and super-low profile, the Panamera is unmistakably a Porsche, but at first glance, there’s just too much of it. That’s because it’s a sedan, an unheard-of configuration for an automaker famous for making racy little coupes.

When I step inside and see the perfectly arrayed cockpit, I’m comforted. More so when, on the narrow strip of highway between Jacksonville and Daytona Beach, Florida, I get to take her out for a spin. Driven properly, a Porsche should be an intense experience. The Panamera Turbo comes equipped with a turbocharged 4.8-liter V-8 engine that grinds out 500 horsepower, a seven-speed double-clutch transmission with paddle shifters and a multistage active spoiler on the tail that raises automatically as the vehicle speeds up. Outfitted thus, the Panamera goes zero to 60 in under four seconds.

This lithe new European arrival is surprisingly roomy, but like those early Spanish conquistadores, it’s not exactly family-friendly. If you’re looking for a roomy daily driver and money isn’t an issue, this may be a perfect selection. But think twice before putting babyseats in the back.

The Turbo’s top speed is said to be 188 mph. We advise against testing that data.

Massive 14.2–inch disc brakes improve on Porsche’s legendary stopping power.

At more than 16 feet long, it’s got three inches on the comparable Mercedes CLS 63.

The spoiler sits flush with the body until 56 mph, when it extends automatically.

Image – Transtock

I’M A HORSEPOWER FIEND. I like an engine that growls, a V-8, a V-12—you name it, as long as it’s fast. I’m attracted to the evil contours of the Murcielago and the impossibly fast-looking missile that is the Mercedes-Benz SLS. As such, I’ve always regarded the responsible hybrid the same way a jock would his clarinet-playing little brother. He’s a dork, but you love him. (Of course, I don’t own a car, and I played the French horn in high school.)

So when I drove the 2011 Mercedes S400 Hybrid from Miami to Delray Beach, I was torn. The Benz is a masterful machine—smooth and powerful, with precise steering, a world-class interior, top-notch Bose sound system and (let’s face it) devil-may-care fuel mileage. It would seem somehow shameful to cut the engine in half and toss in a battery that weighs as much as a motorcycle.

But hybrids are the right thing to do. Lower emissions mean a more livable planet. Luckily, the S400 makes it easy. It’s the world’s first mass-produced vehicle with a lithium-ion battery, which is half as heavy and carries twice as much charge as the nickel-metal hydride battery you’ll find in the Honda Civic Hybrid and the Toyota Prius.

I merge into traffic, and other luxury sedans crowd the road around me, but when I goose the throttle, the hybrid lunges forward, pinning me into the leather seat. I signal a turn and scream onto a sharp off-ramp. The S400 doesn’t flinch. Suddenly that horsepower fiend in me wakes up. When I get to the Seagate Hotel in Delray, I check the fuel mileage on the dashboard computer: 31 miles per gallon. In a Mercedes! I hand the keys to valet, who says, “Mercedes makes a hybrid?” “Yeah,” I respond. “But you’d never know it.”

Executive editor MIKE GUY sees a bright future in lithium.

IT MAY SEEM OBVIOUS, but it’s always bugged me: Luxury SUVs are too expensive to risk taking off-road, where they perform best. Take the Range Rover Sport, a fantastic off-road vehicle that only a complete wastrel would actually take off-road—unless he was being chased by molten lava. In 3-D.

Luckily, the 2010 model I’m driving in the Green Mountains of Vermont doesn’t belong to me (though I know it costs $94,275, plus tax). It was loaned to me by the company, and the publicist warned me to please refrain from taking it off-road. At first, I was happy to oblige. I love the way the Range Rover feels on tarmac, and it has a timeless look: The soft leather seats and wood paneling give it a luxurious, rustic feel, and the “Range Rover” letters above the grille might as well say “I’m Classy.”

What pleases me more, though, is the seriously upgraded engine, which sits on a sophisticated suspension system that the driver can convert to “Off road” settings with a flick of a switch (the Rovers are so popular in the Middle East that there’s a new traction control setting to “launch” the SUV on sand).

I’m looking at the Dynamic Control switch at the head of a trail in Vermont when I succumb to a sudden urge. I switch to Offroad, turn onto a muddy, rocky, root-strewn pathway and goose the throttle. The Rover, on 20-inch tires, is stable in the roughest spots. When I pass an old Jeep CJ-5 (what a Vermonter would call a “mudder”) spinning its tires, its driver looks at me with astonishment.

Fortunately, the Rover emerged from the woods unscathed. But it goes without saying: Even if you live in a Beverly Hills mansion, don’t try this at home.

Executive editor MIKE GUY’s other car is a pair of Tevas.

1 LED headlights grow dimmer as they sense oncoming traffic, then brighten again when it passes. Brilliant.

2 510-horsepower supercharged V-8 grinds out 410 pound-feet of torque.

3 The Dynamic System uses “predictive” technology, so it knows what you’re going to do wrong before you do it.

4 Surround cameras offer a 360-degree view of the exterior, so you don’t crush your neighbor’s car trying to parallel-park.

POKER PLAYERS SAY that if you look around the table two hands in and can’t spot the sucker, then the sucker is you.

It’s a sun-zapped afternoon at Infineon Raceway, a twisty track in the dry straw-and-grapevine covered hills of Sonoma, California. Infineon is 2.52 miles long, with 12 turns, a steep hill, a blind corner. A racing instructor there tells me it’s a very fast track, and a “technical” one. The braking, the shifting, the throttle and the steering have to be executed perfectly. I’m surrounded by other amateur drivers taking part in the Audi Sportscar Experience, most of whom have their own fire suits and helmets bearing stickers advertising their favorite motor oil. I’m wearing a Hanes T-shirt. It never occurs to me that I’m the sucker.

In an episode of serendipity too complicated to describe, I first drove an earlier version of the Audi R8-the 2009 model, with its sublime 4.2-liter V-8 engine-on a narrow country lane in the hills of Sardinia. It sounds idyllic, and it was, but truthfully I was afraid to unleash the full force of that beautiful little machine. My overly rational mind kept imagining that at any moment a flock of sheep could bolt through a hedge. I played it safe.

This time, I’m on a closed track, where the only thing to fear, I guess, is driving this $146,000 supercar into a wall. Which is more difficult than you might think. Though the new R8 shares a dangerously powerful 5.2-liter V-10 engine with the Lamborghini Gallardo, it also shares its perfectly balanced chassis and steering system, and a suspension that utilizes something called “magnetorheological dampers,” which I assume contribute to my staying on the road during the more “technical” turns.

I successfully circle the track many times in this outrageously impractical vehicle, hitting 150 mph and pulling multiple G’s. I even pass a driver in a fire suit who’s run off the road and is waiting for a tow truck. Sucker.

Executive editor MIKE GUY uses 10W-30 Lucas motor oil as both a hair gel and cologne.

CLOSE YOUR EYES for a moment and think on this: What’s missing? Because you care about the world and the people who live here, you undoubtedly came up with all the right answers: world peace, justice for the downtrodden, red velvet cupcakes that will smooth out even the deepest crow’s feet. There’s something else, though, isn’t there? Hmmm….

You looked at the picture, didn’t you? Anyway, yes. What’s missing is the 2010 Aston Martin Rapide, a four-door design dynamo that will cost around $200,000 and get less than 20 miles per gallon on the highway. No need to justify this seemingly insane purchase by summoning the easy association with the 1965 DB5 in Goldfinger. The simple fact is, whoever you are, male or female, there’s a hole in your psyche shaped just like this stupefying piece of automotive art. It’s 16.4 feet long, 6.2 feet wide, with exquisite lines, a come-hither grille and the silhouette of the most sublime four-door artillery shell ever fired down a winding highway. And the Rapide is the only object on earth that can fill it.

According to the automotive rabble, the Rapide—which is a descendant of 1961’s boxy Lagonda Rapide, though its design is entirely modern—is the four-door that will overtake the Maserati Quattroporte, Mercedes-Benz CLS-Class, Audi A7, the bulky Porsche Panamera, the bombastic Lamborghini Estoque. All that is fine, and probably true (though what’s the point of arguing the fine points of that bunch of cars?). But the real question is, will it be the most important thing in your life? And the answer is yes. Because once you fill the Rapide-size hole, little else will matter. What spouse, no matter how nurturing, muscular, curvy or kind, could hope to compete with what Marek Reichman, Aston Martin’s director of design, calls “the most beautiful four-door sports car in the world”?

Now about those cupcakes…

NOT-SO-STANDARD FEATURES

The 6.0-liter V-12 engine just sounds like money.

“Strakes” trail the side vents and dissolve into the rear doors.

Classy “swan wing” doors open up and out at the same time.

The roof is made entirely of tinted poly-carbonate “glass.”

I HONESTLY WASN’T OUT TO PLAY BOY RACER in someone else’s hundred-thousand-dollar car. But what was I supposed to do when I pulled up at a stoplight next to a BMW M5, with its snarling 507 horsepower V10, in a Tesla Roadster, the all- electric sports car I had on loan from a dealership? The race was on. But it quickly became more like a chase as the mighty Bavarian was bested by the fleet Tesla. With my opponent far behind me, I hit the regenerative brakes, which sound strangely similar to the Millennium Falcon exiting hyperdrive. I pulled over to give my now bloodless knuckles a rest, and so did the vanquished M5. The driver walked up, mouth agape, and exclaimed, “Wow!”

I couldn’t agree more.

The Tesla Roadster runs $109,000, and for that handsome sum you get a lightweight carbon-fiber body atop a slightly stretched, bonded and extruded aluminum chassis. Underneath sit 6,831 lithium ion batteries. Plug the car into a wall socket, wait a few hours and drive until it needs another charge 220 miles later. No gas, no spark plugs, no timing chains and no oil changes. Just one tom-tom-size, 375 volt electric motor hooked up to a one-speed Borg Warner transmission. Best of all, the Roadster can rocket its way to 60 mph faster (3.9 seconds) than the track weapon Porsche 911 GT3 (4.0 seconds).
And Porsche has been working on that for more than 45 years. This is Tesla’s first go at it.

As you can tell, I dig Tesla’s freshman effort, but it’s the Roadster’s successor that’ll soon have the rest of the world giddy for a test drive. At a relatively cheap $49,900 (after tax rebates), the seven-seat Model S sedan aims to be the Tesla your aunt will drive. And with a 17-inch internet-capable dashboard display and acceleration that will get you from zero to 60 in under six seconds, it will turn your uncle’s head too. But as with most revolutionary technology, there are hurdles to clear before the Model S is sitting in suburban driveways, mainly the hundreds of millions in government loans the company is after. As of press time, it’s anyone’s guess whether the money will actually come through.

Originally conceived by Silicon Valley all-star Martin Eberhard, the Roadster was supposed to be an electric sports car — built on the stretched chassis of a Lotus Elise — and nothing more. Trouble was, cofounder Elon Musk had more ambitious ideas. The Roadster couldn’t just be an electrified Elise, it had to be original, which meant more development money and a higher purchase price. This led to some nasty infighting and Eberhard’s eventual ouster.

The Model S, then, is Tesla’s design all the way. And if Musk has his way (he usually does), it will be the Tickle Me Elmo of Christmas 2011.

In another life, Musk, the billionaire founder of PayPal, could have been a Bond villain. Considering his other business involves attempting to build a private rocket ship, he still might be. At the unveiling of the Model S sedan, I sit down with the seemingly good- natured mogul and ask if he was a “car guy” before taking up the Tesla flag. “No, I’m more the engineering type,” he replies. “But I used to own a McLaren F1.” That’s like saying you’re lukewarm about modern art, never mind the Jackson Pollock above the fireplace.

When he’s not driving his Roadster, Musk whips around in a Porsche Turbo and likes that he can toss his kids in the back. But don’t think he’s going completely domestic; he says Tesla will always offer a sports car. In fact, he’d like to build a full range of electric Roadsters. “From a base model to a GT version,” he says.

The next generation Roadster will be “more unique, more flexible, offer more functionality” and “more avant garde, aggressive styling,” he promises. In the meantime, the Roadster’s getting an improved interior this summer, when Tesla will also launch the Roadster Sport. Buyers can expect a faster, more powerful car with liquid motor- cooling technology, assuring greater performance across a longer range.

The original Roadster is an athletic and elegant creature. Of particular note are slab-sides that give it a British roadster look — an essential attribute for any sports car. Despite sharing a chassis with the Elise, the roadster is almost buttoned down in the looks department, avoiding the insect-on-amphetamines appearance of its second cousin. Still, there’s enough swoop, scoops and rounded edges to convince those in the 12-to-15-year-old male demo to hang posters on their bedroom walls.

Inside’s more of a mixed bag. Sure you’ll find aluminum panels and beefy knobs, but where’s the feng shui? Nothing goes with anything else. It’s all just sorta… there. In fairness, the Roadster’s cockpit has the look and feel of most low-volume, hand built, first-generation high-end sports cars. Besides, they got the important stuff — steering wheel, racy leather seats — just right.

Punching the throttle, meanwhile, is a wondrous event. The brushless twin ceramic bearing motor sports not only a 14,000 rpm redline, but the inherent advantage of producing 100 percent of its torque at zero rpm, meaning you get full power the instant the light turns green. The acceleration can only be described as boundless, and the car is uncannily quiet. While the Tesla’s motor does whirl and whistle, it lacks the explosive rat-a-tat soundtrack found in other performance cars. Remember, the Roadster doesn’t have a tailpipe.

Back at Tesla’s West Hollywood store, I notice that the 11 Roadsters on hand have signs in the windows reading CUSTOMER CAR. DO NOT TOUCH. According to Tesla’s Southern California general manager, Jeremy Snyder, there’s a “six-month process from reservation until delivery.” Meaning they’re sold out through October — not bad given the auto industry’s current woes. Then again, there’s a mountain of difference between selling 500 tiny sports cars and 20,000 Model S sedans a year, as Tesla is planning.

At the moment, they’re taking reservations for the Model S at $5,000 a pop, and those willing to fork over $40,000 can get in line for the “Signature Edition” series, picking up one of the first 1,000 cars sold — that is, if the cars actually make it to market. For now the Model S concept remains, well, a concept. There are plenty of hairpin turns ahead for Tesla — and the entire U.S. auto sector — between now and the finish line.

Jonny Lieberman lives in Los Angeles, where he enjoys writing about cars and tending his vegetable garden.

Viva la Fiesta!

Ford’s newest is a sporty alternative to electric

If you can’t afford a $109,000 cramped electric two-seater, yet you still want a car that’s way fun to drive and gets good mileage, try the new European-designed Ford Fiesta. Winner of the highly coveted 2009 Red Dot Design Award, the sub-$15,000 Fiesta comes complete with classy chrome trim and wraparound headlights. Its engine is so economical it’s almost green (expect mileage in the mid- to high 30s). Crucially, Fiesta owners wont be subjected to the “penalty box”: The snug interior is outfitted with high- end materials and controls, rather than the bargain bin pieces you typically find in this price range. Stylish, practical, economical and loaded with kick, the Fiesta is close as you can get to electric without getting shocked. — JL

THE BIG THREE AUTOMAKERS—GeneralMotors, Chrysler and Ford—are in crisis mode. Blame money woes, poor planning, topsy-turvy oil markets and the media, spilling ink by the barrel to write their obituaries. All three screwed up to varying degrees, and now they (and by extension, we the people) are paying the price, right? But as the Big Three wobble on their heels like stricken prizefighters, China—floating like a butterfly of free enterprise—stands ready to export the most American product of all to America itself: cars.

And they’re well-positioned to make the move.

After the United States, China is the second-largest automotive market in the world, and its supremacy in manufacturing and exporting low-cost goods is unquestioned. Chinese automakers have already broken into far-flung markets across the globe—in Russia, the Ukraine and Venezuela, for instance—but as China prepares its sales pitch for the U.S., the question becomes, Is America buying?

“It’s definitely not a matter of ‘if,’ but ‘when,’” says Lonnie Miller, director of industry analysis for the automotive research company R.L. Polk & Co. Expect a wealth of compact cars and SUVs, with price tags starting around $8,000 and brand names like Brilliance, BYD, Chery, Changfeng, Hebei Zhongxing and Great Wall.

Still, the road to the American market is a tricky one to navigate. In 2004, automotive entrepreneur Malcolm Bricklin (who was responsible for bringing both Subaru and Yugo to America) formed a company called Visionary Vehicles to import low-cost cars from China’s Chery Automobile Co. Despite a few well-publicized auto show appearances, the partnership eventually dissolved, and the parties ended up locking horns in court.

In 2007, Chery formed a strategic partnership with Chrysler, but that deal fell apart last December, before a single unit shipped. This year a company called Chamco (which stands for China America Cooperative Automotive) planned to import small SUV and pickup truck models from China’s Hebei Zhongxing Automobile Co., but the venture—ahem—stalled.

The first automaker likely to pull up to the curb stateside is BYD, a company better known in Asia for manufacturing batteries. BYD (which stands for “Build Your Dreams”), has the built-in advantage of a partnership with Warren Buffett’s über-powerful Berkshire Hathaway. Plus, they wowed the crowds at the 2009 Detroit Auto Show with a plug-in hybrid F3DM sedan and the all-electric e6 crossover SUV. BYD claims the F3DM can run for 60 miles on electric power before its gasoline engine kicks in (20 miles further than GM’s vaunted Volt). The e6’s range is 249 miles, and it has batteries that take a 50 percent recharge in 10 minutes.

Standing in the company’s elaborate display area in Detroit’s Cobo Center in January, Wang Chuanfu, chairman and president of BYD, said the company hopes to sell cars in the U.S. starting in 2011. Asked whether the automaker would ever consider setting up manufacturing facilities in the U.S., he replied, “when it is appropriate.”

Brilliance Automotive also brought a sampling to the Detroit show. Though executives there say they have no plans to export— yet—the company showed off four models: the M2 sports sedan, the M3 sports coupe and the FRV hatchback, as well as the midsize M1 luxury sedan, complete with a beverage cooler and Italian leather interior.

Aside from the obvious question of whether or not U.S. consumers will warm to the idea of buying a car that’s made in China—a country Americans generally associate with the production of cheap trinkets—experts worry that the first such models to hit our shores might not, in fact, meet our strict safety standards.

What’s more, suspicions of cheap construction might not be that far from the truth: According to a 2008 J.D. Power Initial Quality Study, the Chinese industry average for problems recorded per hundred vehicles was nearly twice that of cars sold in the U.S. Many Chinese models have also performed dismally in well-publicized safety tests conducted by independent agencies in Europe and elsewhere.

“The first challenge for Chinese automakers is complying with U.S. emissions and safety regulations,” says Tim Dunne, J.D. Power and Associates’ director of Asia-Pacific market intelligence. “And this is a big job. Besides the regulatory hurdles, the vehicles will have to meet America’s relatively high expecstations for quality, dependability, and service and parts availability. On top of that, a Chinese-branded automaker would have to build its own distribution and dealership network in the U.S., which is huge.”

The simplest way for a Chinese automaker to gain a foothold in the U.S. market would be by partnering with an already-established third-party automaker that would import and sell cars under its own domestic nameplates as a way to fill gaps in its current lineups, the way Chery tried to do with Chrysler. “An established brand carries familiarity and comfort among consumers,” Miller explains. “It’s the smart choice.”

There’s also the prospect that one or more Chinese companies will get a head start by essentially, well, buying American. Ford has reportedly been shopping the Volvo brand to potential suitors, the Chinese among them. GM is looking to unload its underachieving Hummer and Saab brands to raise capital. It’s a buyer’s market, and the Chinese have their checkbooks out.

Still, some experts are dubious. “A Chinese company has to ask itself, ‘Why do I think I could do better than GM or Ford at making this a profitable business?’” Dunne cautions. “The question is whether they would be better off spending $4 billion buying a brand or using the money to develop their own products?”

Where some see crisis, others see opportunity. For the strapped American consumer, an $8,000 car might not be such a bad thing.

Your Mileage May Vary

Although Chinese cars reportedly have suspect safety standards compared to those built in the United States and Europe, their fuel efficiency standards are far ahead of ours. The fact is not a single gas-powered car assembled in the U.S. would meet China’s domestic standards, which this year rose to a whopping 43 miles per gallon. The equivalent current average in America is 25 mpg.

HIS IS NOT AN EXAGGERATION: The best cars on the road today pack in more intelligent electronics than NASA employed to send man into space. They offer real-time traffic reports, hands-free chatting, collision avoidance alerts, and internet access for your laptop (which is, arguably, not such a great idea). They can also tap into your brain: If a driver is falling asleep or otherwise impaired, the car knows. Some models literally take hold of the wheel if they determine a collision is imminent. They’ll do just about everything but pay your parking tickets.

“Manufacturers are packing everything into cars: radar, cameras, lasers and GPS navigation systems,” says Jeff Rupp, manager of Active Safety, Research and Advanced Engineering for Ford Motor Co. in Dearborn, Mich. It’s a marketing bonanza, but the technological advances are presenting auto makers with a challenge: making driving safer and more enjoyable without providing too much distraction from the task at hand.

This year, Ford rolled out the new SIRIUS Travel Link service, a road warrior’s information arsenal: Using SIRIUS satellite radio, STL spits out real-time weather and traffic updates, sports scores, and pump prices at nearby gas stations. Meanwhile, BMW has started integrating Google Maps into its 1- and 3-Series navigation system. Need a restaurant, mechanic, supermarket, cinema or a deep-tissue massage and sauna? Tap on the Bimmer’s route guidance system screen and it’ll get you there pronto, or slip that glowing Bluetooth Jawbone into your ear and place a hands-free call. New-model Chryslers, Dodges and Jeeps have “uconnect web,” which turns your ride into a rolling Internet hot spot.

All this innovation is set to revolutionize the way we drive. But when you’re humming along a busy Interstate at 70 mph, at what point do you reach connectivity overload? Given that talking on a cellphone is already illegal in some states, the proposed idea of dashboard-mounted PCs—complete with internet and email capability—seems slightly insane. “I’m still not sold on the idea of a driver having full access to the internet,” says Mike Marshall, director of automotive emerging technologies at the research firm J.D. Power and Associates. “From a legal standpoint—and a driver distraction standpoint—I just don’t see it happening.”

But the cutting edge isn’t just about connecting to the web. Some new tech makes driving remarkably easy. For example, “Adaptive” cruise control systems in Lexus, Jaguar and other models maintain a set distance from the car ahead, speeding up and slowing down to match it. Mercedes-Benz offers the most advanced version: While other systems give control back to the driver under a certain speed, Merc’s Distronic Plus system stays engaged in the stop-and-go crawl of highway traffic.

Problem parallel parkers will appreciate Ford’s much-improved Active Park Assist in the 2010 Lincoln MKS sedan and MKT crossover, which uses ultrasonic sensors and electronic power steering to automatically guide the vehicle into a parking space. All an operator needs to do is work the gas and brake pedals—and feed the meter. “In congested urban locations, Active Park Assist is a godsend for some people—like my wife—who cannot parallel park,” says George Peterson, president of AutoPacific Group, an automotive research firm.

The niftiest new technology is in the area of safety. Consider widely used “collision mitigation systems,” which engage when they sense that a crash is imminent. They then pump the brakes, tighten the seat belts, and rapidly close the sunroof and windows. European engineers are developing a next-generation version with reinforcing metal bars in the passenger compartment that slide into place prior to impact.

BMW is incorporating Google Maps into the 3-Series’ navigation system via a wireless Internet connection.

Lexus and Mercedes take it a step further. The new Lexus LS 600 hL hybrid sedan’s Advanced Pre-Collision System helps a driver avoid hitting obstacles—especially pedestrians—in the vehicle’s path by monitoring both the road ahead and the driver’s face with video cameras. If the system thinks the driver is distracted because, say, he’s asleep, or chatting dejectedly with his broker, and simultaneously detects an object ahead, it will sound an alarm and automatically engage the brakes. Mercedes’ Attention Assist system scrutinizes the driver’s steering inputs and judges whether the driver is fatigued or otherwise “impaired.” It then illuminates a coffee cup icon on the dash and advises him or her to take a break.

Meanwhile, Volvo’s accident avoidance system, Whatever you do, don’t fall asleep Fatigue is a factor in more than 40 percent of fatal accidents in the United States. Mercedes has developed a brilliant Attention Assist system that constantly monitors the drivers behavior, particularly how the driver turns the wheel. Once it establishes a driver’s “normal” behavior, the computer system looks for deviations. For instance, as a driver tires, he or she tends to turn slowly then jerk the wheel to correct.

If the car catches you dozing, it scolds you with an alarm and a coffee cup glows on the dashboard.

City Safety, focuses on fender benders at speeds up to 18 mph. If the car thinks the driver isn’t reacting to something in its path, it jams on the brakes. Nissan’s Lane Departure Prevention technology not only beeps if the car drifts across highway lane markers, it applies brakes to one or more of the wheels to guide it back on the road.

Understandably, most motorists are wary of ceding control to a machine. After all, we’ve seen The Terminator. “When technologies take the helm and steer the vehicle, we’re infringing on drivers’ comfort zones,” notes Stephen Lovett, Director of the Automotive and Transportation Research with the market research firm Harris Interactive. “Which is the exact opposite of the technology’s intent.”

Call it the HAL effect—after that recalcitrant computer in the dystopian classic, 2001: A Space Odyssey. It’s hard not to worry what might happen if the machine makes a mistake. And just wait until the legal system gets involved. “The biggest obstacle I see to widespread availability of driver assistance systems could be litigation,” says J.D. Power’s Marshall. “It’s just a matter of time before one of these systems fails, and then it will fall into the hands of the lawyers.”

It’s enough to make you go out and buy a bike. Getting around may require a bit of exertion, but at least the thing knows who’s boss.