Got off work at 8am this morning, decided to go for a ride. (For anyone in the Lehigh Valley area, I took 29 through Emmaus to Rt 100 and continued about another 20-30 mi and back. Rt 100 is a GREAT ride on a Saturday/Sunday morning.)
It was a beautiful, cool morning. The sun was out, the sky was blue, and the open road beckoned. So far I'll admit that most of the joy I've gotten from this car has been the same type I would have gotten when I was a teenager. I've avoided burnouts or any real peeling of the tires, but have had great fun careening through the first 2 or 3 gears on take off here and there, and I got rubber in 3rd on my way out of work this morning. (Though I was getting on it at the time, the 3rd gear rip was not even intentional!)
So, this morning being as beautiful and pristine as it was, I decided to take a different approach. I just ran the speed limit or less (depending on traffic) for more or less the entire ride, but with the windows down and the radio off. There were LOTS of other people cruising the same road today, with speeds from 35mph to 55mph as we rolled through a few different small towns.
I was enveloped in an almost womblike way by the warmth of the sun and the bassy murmur of the exhaust as the car effortlessly glided over the hills and mild turns along the way. I pushed neither suspension nor engine to any sort of limit, just enjoying the competent road feel of the car and the glorious feeling of all that power on tap as I ever so delicately pressed the gas pedal to pick up a bit of speed around the odd corner or steeper hill.
The handling of the car was picture-perfect in every way. The softer-than-I-expected suspension felt truly luxurious, and felt tuned more to the overstuffed Bullitt interior than to the low profile tires and 17 inch rims which stand out so prominently from the outside. As I moved through the gears, my semi-conscious labeling of the car changed rather subtly from "racy hotrod" to "delicious roadster". (Yes, I realize it does not actually fit the definition of the word "roadster".)
While surely it was all in my head, it seemed I could tell the people who were out for joyrides, and I felt a certain unacknowledged camaraderie with anyone I perceived as such. Though I've always enjoyed the occasional pleasure cruise in any car, I arrived back home with a completely new idea about what really makes owning a performance car special. It's alot less about speed than I have always thought...
Just thought I'd share, and hopefully many of you had similar mornings. This was the first time since I picked it up Thursday that I've been alone in the car for more than 10 minutes, so in many ways was my first chance to really experience the car.
Joe
It was a beautiful, cool morning. The sun was out, the sky was blue, and the open road beckoned. So far I'll admit that most of the joy I've gotten from this car has been the same type I would have gotten when I was a teenager. I've avoided burnouts or any real peeling of the tires, but have had great fun careening through the first 2 or 3 gears on take off here and there, and I got rubber in 3rd on my way out of work this morning. (Though I was getting on it at the time, the 3rd gear rip was not even intentional!)
So, this morning being as beautiful and pristine as it was, I decided to take a different approach. I just ran the speed limit or less (depending on traffic) for more or less the entire ride, but with the windows down and the radio off. There were LOTS of other people cruising the same road today, with speeds from 35mph to 55mph as we rolled through a few different small towns.
I was enveloped in an almost womblike way by the warmth of the sun and the bassy murmur of the exhaust as the car effortlessly glided over the hills and mild turns along the way. I pushed neither suspension nor engine to any sort of limit, just enjoying the competent road feel of the car and the glorious feeling of all that power on tap as I ever so delicately pressed the gas pedal to pick up a bit of speed around the odd corner or steeper hill.
The handling of the car was picture-perfect in every way. The softer-than-I-expected suspension felt truly luxurious, and felt tuned more to the overstuffed Bullitt interior than to the low profile tires and 17 inch rims which stand out so prominently from the outside. As I moved through the gears, my semi-conscious labeling of the car changed rather subtly from "racy hotrod" to "delicious roadster". (Yes, I realize it does not actually fit the definition of the word "roadster".)
While surely it was all in my head, it seemed I could tell the people who were out for joyrides, and I felt a certain unacknowledged camaraderie with anyone I perceived as such. Though I've always enjoyed the occasional pleasure cruise in any car, I arrived back home with a completely new idea about what really makes owning a performance car special. It's alot less about speed than I have always thought...
Just thought I'd share, and hopefully many of you had similar mornings. This was the first time since I picked it up Thursday that I've been alone in the car for more than 10 minutes, so in many ways was my first chance to really experience the car.
Joe
