I don’t know how many Hot Wheels cars I had as a kid, but it was a lot. Countless hours were spent sliding them around the house and driving them up walls, and my parents were still finding mini monster trucks in the yard when I was graduating college.

While the cars themselves haven’t benefited much from the advancement of technology over the last 20 years, their advertising certainly has. Released this month on YouTube is the “Hot Wheels Custom Motor Cup”, and interactive video series. Remember those choose-your-own adventure books? This is the same idea, but with stop-motion animated Hot Wheels. For 26 days the Mattel team shot 9,181 frames, each of which took over a minute to film. Using multiple angles, and truck-loads of sugar and sand, Mattel put together this interactive video series pitting it’s crazy cars against one another over 3 different courses.

How it works: Click the video and watch it all the way through. At the end you get to pick your vehicle; a sports car or a truck. At each race you get to choose one upgrade (rockets, bigger engine, skis, etc) and then sit back and watch the action. It may seem a little juvenile, but the first time you make an “educated” choice of mods, and lose the race, I guarantee you will try again. With all my automotive and driving experience, losing a race to a lifted Ferrari was no acceptable. And if you have kids, nephews, or want to be able to play Xbox while you babysit, show this game to them. They’ll be occupied for a while.

Minivans are boring, they just are. While they are incredibly practical, and achieve their goals with far more ease and speed than any wagon or SUV could dream of, they have the balls of a minnow. Add to that a driving experience of a Tuff Shed in a pool of Jell-O and you have a vehicle that was anything but exciting.
Toyota wants to change that.

But re-branding yourself-and convincing the public it’s real- is easier said than done. We only have to look at the recent influx of aging actors-turned-musicians as proof (examples). Still, chief designer of the Toyota’s minivan division, Kazuo Mori is going to give it a shot. A former go-kart racer, Mori dreamed of designing sports cars, but for 17 years he’s been drawing slant-nosed garden sheds whose future is filled with Dora The Explorer DVDs and spilled snacks.

I guess after 17 years Mori just couldn’t take it anymore, so for 2010 he tried to inject a little sports-car hormone into the minivan. Chassis tuning, firmer dampers, and a new electronic steering box cut body roll and allow you to actually feel the road (what an idea!). If you want to go Auto-Xing, but also have to babysit your kids, opt for the SE model which gets 17-inch wheels, a body kit, stiffer suspension and further-tuned steering. A 266hp 3.5 liter V6 is available in all trim levels, and hurls, I mean coaxes, the 4300lb play-pen to 60mph in 7.2 seconds.

A new marketing campaign (video here) is drilling the idea that this minivan is “for the guys”, but their casting choice for the commercial is more Larry David than Eric Bana. And while the adds are funny and clever, they hardly highlight the “sportiness”, instead playing to the traditional crowd of parents who are too busy loading 2-ton boxes of diapers and figuring out how to make sure their kids never work in a business that requires body glitter and metal poles to enjoy a fun drive.

After all that work, my opinion on minivans remains the same; they’re boring. This is the sportiest minivan available, but at the end of it all, it’s a friggin’ minivan. Even if it was as fast as a Veyron, it’s body is as exciting as an art smock. It’s not the performance (or lack thereof) that has given minivans their stigma, it’s the overall experience. They are a vehicular muscle relaxer. And while I have nothing against Mr. Mori himself, this makes me even more disappointed in Toyota than ever. Producing nothing but hybrids and mundane family sedans had already put them in the category of books-on-tape excitement. Now they invest time and money, not to mention valuable oxygen, discussing how to make a performance minivan.

Minivans get the job done, and if you want one, fine. But call a spade a spade. Don’t tell me it’s sporty, track-tuned, or was tested on the ‘Ring while playing Homeward Bound 5. And when the sportiest vehicle in your lineup is a minivan, it’s time to take a long look at yourself. Toyota has made some incredible cars in the past, and we want that Toyota back. Let’s all chip in and send Toyota a Ferrari and a Sienna-sized testosterone pill, before they build a “rally-inspired” Prius. Personally I’d rather have a few minutes of inconvenience a day and drive a sport wagon.

-Zack K

What I’m wondering though: Is it blasphemous to paint a Delorean?

The Smoking Tire goes to Las Vegas for our first NASCAR race. While there, we find out that many of the people in the infield don’t actually go to watch the race, they go to drink.

For car that’s supposedly coming to an end in production, Pagani sure likes putting out new, special-edition Zondas every 6 months. The Zonda Cinque and Cinque roadster were supposed to be the final edition of the Zonda, closing the book on one of the greatest and most stunning hyper-cars ever built. They were a combination of the Zonda F and Zonda R, with a clutch-less sequential gearchange, intending to be a road-going track car. Right. Because the normal Zonda was just too soft and cuddly for racetracks.

The send off was to make way for Pagani’s next project, currently referred to as the  Pagani Project C9. The C9 is being called, by Mr. Pagani himself, a brand new car, from conception to the 3770 new parts it will be built with. It will have 700hp and and a rib-squashing 737 ft lbs of torque.

So the Zonda Cinque and Cinque roadster(shown below) were supposed to be the firework grand finale before the Zonda was laid to rest.

Well then call the Tricolore the encore, because Pagani just can’t let this phenomenal name go to bed. For the Geneva auto show Pagani created the Pagani Zonda Cinque Tricolore Special Edition. After you read that sentence, be sure to replenish your electrolytes.

The Tricolore’s design pays homage to the Italian air force acrobatic team, called Fecce Tricolore. Think of them as a more outgoing Blue Angels. (Do not, for any reason, let them near your girlfriend.)

To differentiate it from the “normal” Cinque, the Tricolore is made of a carbon-titanium weave, the same material as the upcoming C9. Now that’s how you make a test mule. The body is finished with a clear-blue lacquer that looks like something from a dream after watching Avatar, followed by 8 hours of F1 racing, and leaves you with your jaw on the pavement. Of course, tri-colored stripes run from the nose to the back of the hood, done in the colors of the Italian flag. The price for this “final” edition is a ridiculous, yet perfectly acceptable, $1.77 million. I say that’s totally reasonable for one of the best looking cars ever, as long as there’s a stripe-delete option. You gotta love the way Italians say goodbye.

Some of you may have noticed that Tom and I were fully missing in action the entire month of September, 2009. Well there was damn good reason for that, it was because we were on the set of Bullrun, the reality game show loosely based on the Bullrun Live Rally, which we participate in every year (including this one!). Think of it as The Amazing Race, except you bring your own car. The Smoking Tire spent 4 weeks shooting exclusive, behind-the-scenes video with the producers, crew, and special effects guys, and now that the show is airing (Thursday nights @ 10 EST on SPEED), we are running a new video every week!

Source [Luxury4Play.com]

What happens when the tuning world meets the Birkenstock-wearing world of hybrids? I never thought we’d find out, or at least not for another few years (Those modified Prius are just bags of money on fire, useless). Well we may find out sooner, because Honda is now working with Mugen on a CR-Z Type R. In principle it’s a good idea, if they can find a way to make a sporty hybrid, I’m all for it. But here’s what I don’t get: The Mugen CR-Z will have a 2.0 liter gasoline engine that produces 150hp. Honda had to upgrade the electric motor as well, so it gets a boost from the stock CR-Z’s 20hp to a 50hp unit, raising total output to 200hp. It will also have upgraded brakes, suspension, EM and throttle response. Sounds like friendly fire that will hit the Civic SI right in the face.

I think the CR-Z is better looking than a Civic SI coupe, and now I can get one with the same horsepower as the SI, with the benefits of a hybrid drivetrain and engine stop/start. Even more of a travesty, this HYBRID will make the same power as Honda sportiest models do; 200hp. Honda needed to build a new sports car before this idea was announced, but now I think they need it even more. When your hybrids make as much power as your performance models do (and it’s 400hp), you need to take a look at yourself in the mirror. I’m happy we’re seeing hybrid concepts meant for people that have their adrenal gland intact, but the thought of a CR-Z hybrid having the same set of balls as something labeled “SI” is laughable. Plus, this car will probably cost less than the Civic SI HFP, so it will be a better deal.

Please, Honda, you make amazing cars, just turn the “balls” knob a little to the right. The S2000 is still sitting on a pedestal, but it’s collecting dust. You need a fresh, new, brilliant RWD car that packs more power than a pencil sharpener. Otherwise you will be what Toyota has been for the last 12 years; spineless.

They say, “When life gives you lemons, make lemonade.” We’ve all heard that line, and if you’re like me, it’s an infuriating thing to hear. It’s always said to you after something horrible happens. Perhaps an earthquake knocked down your garage…onto your new car…with Megan Fox inside.

This week we had a Nissan 370z Convertible to review. What better environment is there for a convertible sports car than a road trip? So we drove it to Spring Mountain Motorsports Ranch, in Pahrump, NV. We had planned to pit a Ford GT against a Nissan GTR and use a radar gun to see which could reach the highest speed down the back straight.

The radar gun never came.

Had life given us lemons? For a moment we thought our episode was lost. But then a very nice man from Lamborghini of Las Vegas said 7 very exciting words to Matt, “Would you like to drive the Balboni?” No, life had not given us lemons. In this case, life felt bad about the lemons, so it took them and made us lemon sorbet, which it fed to us while giving us a back-rub.

The momentarily-dark day turned into one of the best  yet. The key players? A Lamborghini LP-560-2 Balboni Edition, a 1000hp Ford GT TT by Heffner Performance and a VF Engineering-Supercharged Audi R8. Check back Tuesday to see the incredible footage, and find out who was the fastest. For now, enjoy the behind-the-scenes pictures.

While filming at the track for the newest episode of The Smoking Tire, we couldn’t help but notice the mustang with the spray-can paintjob, green mirrors, and wires and holes all over the interior. A check with the driver revealed that this was a prototype for the new 2011 Mustang GT, and he would be doing some testing throughout the day. We were too busy with our shoot to go for a ride, but here are a few shots of it on the track, with pretty good audio so you can hear the 5.0 “Coyote” engine scream. And if you think I’m crazy for passing up a ride in this car, wait till you see what I was driving instead.

A fiberglass-bodied replica of a tiny 1950s British roadster with a small-block Chevy nestled between those increasingly-fragile-looking frame rails. What could possibly go wrong?

It’s all yours for a song on Craigslist Syracuse. Hey, there’s always more expensive ways to die.

1952 MG-TD REPLICA – $7500 (FAYETTEVILLE)

Click here if the ad gets pulled. Or, just tune into your local news in a few weeks.

I guest hosted Fast Lane Daily today, interviewing Todd Gartshore, one of the owners of Baer Brakes, who make some of the best big brake kits around. We discussed the different types of brakes available on the market today and what brakes you’d like to use for different applications.

Thanks for the tip, Tim!

Got a Bizarre Roadside Sighting? Let us know, by sending in photos to Matt@thesmokingtire.com

The R8. I haven’t known too many cars that induce drooling and heart palpitations, from so many people, as this car. It’s not just the gear-heads and auto-knowledge ninjas either. I know business women that love them, young kids that have chased them, and retirees that give an informed nod when I mention it. I will skip listing the numerous awards, accolades, press and 849568 posts online-that simply say, “I want one”-we all love it. It is an incredibly brilliant piece of automotive engineering.

The only real complaint anyone had about the car was that it was under-powered. The 4.2 liter V-8 is a great engine, but it was holding the R8 back (a point supported by the introduction of the R8 V10). A number of companies (ABT, MTM, PES Tuning) have years of experience supercharging this motor in the RS4, so naturally supercharger kits came about quickly, with online promotional videos quickly following. The videos were epic (Watch Matt in the PES R8). What was a tame, polished scalpel was now a powerful but precise katana sword. The MTM R8 made 560hp, and had a sound track that shook your ribcage and stirred the soul. What was “the perfect super-car” to the masses had now been perfected for the purists.

But for Jason Heffner, there was another way to skin this cat that hadn’t been explored: turbos.

Yes turbos. Those happy little swirls of metal that give slow cars a pair of balls and fast cars a pair of balls made of Pluto and the moon. Jason Heffner, of Heffner Performance, has been building turbo-charged exotics for over a decade. We showed you their TT LP-640, and they’ve been having equal success with the new Lamborghini LP-560, with a few breaking the 1000hp barrier.

Well if you know how to build a daily driven TT Lamborghini-the equivalent of giving a real bull some HGH and cocaine right before you hop on- you can probably help the R8 with it’s horsepower deficiency. Using the stock motor, Jason fabricated a custom exhaust system that accepted a pair of Performance Turbocharging turbos. The quality of the work is surgical, the design elegant. The custom-made after-cooler looks  clean, simple and beautiful; you would think Audi had built it themselves.

So what are the results from the world’s first twin-turbo Audi R8? At 6 psi, on pump gas, it made 536AWHP (Click to view Dyno chart) Heffner’s R8 basically makes the same power at the wheels as the ABT and MTM cars do at the crank. That is not to say the other cars aren’t incredible, they are. With instant power and torque, they let the R8 to keep it’s V8 “feel”. The Heffner turbo system simply takes this docile supercar and turns it into an absolute weapon. Lag appears to be minimal, and the sound is as good as ever. The sound of the blow-off valve surrounded by a thunderous bombardment of V8 is truly awesome. And if that doesn’t fix your addiction for power, you can pour in some 100 octane juice and transform your car into a 600AWHP, sub-11 second missile.

Whether you prefer turbos or superchargers is a matter of personal preference and the goals you have for the car. But no matter which route you take, adding some extra air to you R8 is a very good thing. What made the R8 the “perfect supercar” was it’s ability to handle any task you wished, whether it was lapping Laguna Seca or getting coffee, with a poise and control not often seen in exotic cars. What the Heffner package does is erase the only complaint ever written in the R8’s work file. It also makes it almost pointless to own anything else. This isn’t merely a daily driver supercar, it’s a daily driver hypercar. With this much power, in this car, there’s no reason to own much else.

-Zack K

Watch the on-road testing here.

The dyno run.

I don’t know a damn thing about Forza 3, I’ve played it about 3 times total, but this thing looks bad ass. Even better? For another 15,000 credits, you can download Saltine713’s custom drag racing tune for the GT500 that apparently drops the 0-60 time down to 1.9 seconds. Very realistic, this game.

The Smoking Tire race livery GT500 gallery after the jump

A friend of mine from Facebook got to drive the new 2011 Ford Mustang GT with the much anticipated 5.0L “Coyote” engine and has informed me that the steering feels “very active” and that “the car feels more ‘alive’ than any other previous Mustang.”

He also mentioned that the sound is amazing, which I did already know, because one lucky guy got to rev the shit out of one in front of a room full of Journalists, myself included, back in January. It has a throatier note than the current 4.6L engine, no doubt in part to those awesome factory headers.

In 1974, Volkswagen released the Mk I Golf on the unsuspecting public as a replacement for the nearly 30 year old Beetle. It was originally designed as a simple people mover like the Beetle, but over the last 25 years, has evolved into much more, or has it?

Certainly one could argue that the GTI variants of the Golf, especially the Mk IV “R32” edition, are some of the most satisfying drivers cars on the road, which is why many people have owned multiple generations of the hot hatch. But what about the base Golf? Does technology trickle down from the GTI to the point that even the more sedate versions of the car can be more than just people movers? Or, to put the question more simply, can a base Golf make me smile?

Read on to find out.

Our test car is the $21,000 base model (Mk VI) Golf 5-door, which, with the exception of the 3-door version, is just about the cheapest way out of a VW dealership. It’s powered by a 170hp, 2.5 liter, 5-cylinder engine mated to a 6-speed automatic transmission. The only option fitted to our test vehicle was the Cold Weather Package, which adds heated seats and mirrors, but besides that, it’s as basic as it gets.

VW has said that Walter De Silva, who designed the car, took inspiration both from the Mk I and Mk IV Golfs, arguably the prettiest of the 6 generations, when designing the Mk VI. If he did, I don’t see it. While the car is a smooth, aerodynamic, wind-cutting shape, its exterior is completely devoid of presence. In short, I wouldn’t take a second look if I saw one parked on the side of the road. The generic silver/black color of our test car and 14” steel wheels with plastic hubcaps don’t do it any favors in that department either. In all fairness, I find the 3-door variant much more attractive and proportionate.

Inside the car, things get much, much better. With the Mk V golf, people complained that the interior styling had become bland, almost an afterthought, and that was most certainly cured in this car. Compared to the $29k Honda Civic Si I drove last week, the Golf felt significantly upmarket, taking advantage of the BMW-like “textured rubber” dash, which feels expensive and soft to the touch, especially around the bonnet covering the gauge cluster. For a base level car, the front seats are surprisingly sporty. No power seats here, but there is an adjustable lumbar support for the driver, very welcome in my case. I love the look and feel of really good cloth seats with bolstering, and these are the best I’ve seen at this price point. Rear head and legroom is also quite impressive, with our 6’1” intern able to fit easily behind me  (6’3”) comfortably for a 2 hour drive. It’s a true 5-seater, this Golf, and a fantastic road-tripper if you’re so inclined. The trunk was larger than I expected, able to carry our 3 camera bags, 2 tripods, and 2 helmets  to the race track without having to fold the seat down.

The Golf’s controls are basic and intuitive, and everything is exactly where you need and expect it to be. The gauges are clear and well-styled, and the steering wheel, though devoid of a leather wrapping, is the perfect size and shape for sporty driving. I love the fact that all 4 windows have auto up/down functions, something that many other carmakers skimp out on, but I don’t like how you have to shut off the headlights manually. I don’t require a full HID setup, but if you leave the lights on when you shut off  the car, the dim parking lights will stay on, which I learned when I woke up to a dead battery the following morning. Manufacturers take note: When the keys are out of the car, and the car is locked, all external lights should always shut off.

The radio is as simple as it gets, with large, clear buttons and an integrated auxiliary input. I would personally opt for the Premium Sound package, as this radio simply doesn’t sound very good, especially through the FM radio signal. And what’s going on with the HVAC controls? It’s the same 3-knob system we all know, but the knob to control where the air comes from is all the way to the right, and it’s literally impossible to read which direction to turn the knob to get the desired effect.

The biggest and most pleasant surprise happens when you start the Golf up and actually drive it. I can see why the golf is so heavy (3100 lbs) for its size, there must be hundreds of pounds of sound dampening in the car. With the windows closed, road and engine noise is virtually nonexistent, and wind noise only becomes apparent over 70 or 80 mph.

I honestly can’t believe the 2.5L engine is what comes standard for $21k. It’s 170hp may not sound like much, but the 177 lb/ft of torque means that around town the Golf feels, dare I say it, muscular? It feels every bit as fast as the last Mini Cooper S I drove.  VW’s web site says that the 5-banger is, “More than you’ll ever need. That’s why we put it in there.”

And you know what? They are right. Sure, someone like me is going to want the GTI version for maximum performance, but your average daily commuter would think the Golf is a rocketship. If there were a downside to this engine it’s twofold:

1)    Gas mileage, for a car this size, is merely average. Over my 3 days with the car in mixed driving conditions, I averaged 22.4 mpg, as reported by the on-board computer.

2)    How it sounds outside the car. While the cabin is so well insulated you don’t really hear the engine at all, from the outside it sounds more Chevy Cobalt than Audi A4.

Torque steer is completely absent from the Golf experience; even if you mash the throttle with the wheel cranked hard over, your hands wouldn’t know it. The suspension is extremely compliant, and rides more like a luxury car than anything else I’ve driven under $30,000. I’m sure the optional 16” alloys would take a bit of that away, but as tested, the car rides like its carved from a single block of aluminum and mounted on an Audi A6 suspension. When the road got windy, I tried to use the manual shifting option (lever only, no paddles), and it was disappointing that the up/down indicators were the wrong way! Again, manufacturers take note: you want to pull the lever towards you to shift up, like they do in racing cars. Re-learning the process resulted in some embarrassing wrong-direction shifts, annoying the hell out of my girlfriend. The best driving experience given this combination is surely the automatic “S” mode, which, if you control the engine with the throttle, will always manage to find the right gear on its own.

The bottom line: The Golf isn’t a sports car, that’s what they make the GTI for. But if you closed your eyes and rode shotgun in one, you’d think you were in a much more expensive car than something that was out the door for $21,000. If anonymity is your thing, and you really want to have the last laugh, pick up a Golf with a few options for $25,000 and laugh at everyone else that overpaid for their version of luxury.

(Note*: Some photos show 2010 GTI model)

Volkswagen provided the car, insurance, and a tank of gas for this review.

If you saw the orgy of multimillion-dollar athletics-exploiting commercialism known as the Super Bowl this past weekend, you might have seen a certain Dodge Charger commercial. Entitled “Man’s Last Stand,” it was the stronger pick of an evening of lackluster, cliche, bombastic, vaguely misogynistic ads with little automotive representation (unless you count Toyota’s creepy public-service announcement) other than Hyundai and Jeff Bridges’ oh-so-soothing voice.

“I will walk the dog at 6:30am. I will eat some fruit as part of my breakfast. I will shave. I will clean the sink after I shave. I will say yes when you want me to say yes. I will listen to your friends. I will put the seat down. I will carry your lip balm. I will watch your vampire TV shows with you. And because I do this, I will drive the car I want to drive.” Cue screeching tires and general disdain for public welfare, set to an Iggy Pop soundtrack.

But will I drive a Furious Fuchsia Challenger?

No doubt scholars and professors could read into this as the eroding of man’s primal instincts, he as hunter-gatherer and protector of the nest, whittled away over centuries of domestic servitude into a life of worrying about patchouli oil and Coldplay tickets. Certainly they have already. Or, it could just be that Dodge’s marketing geniuses wants you to believe that their cars cars are the 4-wheeled equivalent of Chuck Norris punching a grizzly bear in the bonch.

Manly men drive Dodges; manly men can also wear pink shirts and (usually) get away with it. So when the Nostalgia Department at Chrysler Group LLC (the only part of the company actually turning a profit) announced the 2011 Challenger with the same sort of eye-searing pink normally reserved for missile silo kill-switches, it’s the sort of irony that makes Samuel Beckett feel underappreciated. Would you drive a manly, fire-breathing, tire-squealing 400+hp RWD muscle car guaranteed to put hair on your chest…if it were bright pink?

On the one hand, Dodge cars are the last bastion of modern man, an escape pod from all the travails of masculinity—a concept that even crosses gender boundaries. And yet, on the same day, they announce the return of an industrial-strength pink found on Hello Kitty lunchboxes covered in glitter and Edward Cullen stickers.

But whether you’re afraid the drive-thru girls at Rally’s are going to tease you in front of your rugby team, brah, it’s still a very sharp-looking package. Complemented with the optional Pearl White seats and white 1971-throwback R/T stripes on the R/T Classic (left), it’s attention-grabbing without being overly tacky: after all, last week’s G-Power Typhoon X5 is a milder shade of white, but which car would you rather be seen in?

Either way, bright, obnoxious colors are a boon to the masses: it brings a little extra cheer to the 50 shades of grey that pass for “a reflection of an owner’s personality” these days. Bright colors are a rebellion against the relentless domination of silver, a middle finger to Toyota beige, and a necessity in these fearmongering, recession-addled times. They’re visual Xanax. They’re a box of Crayola crayons. And they can even resist the tiresome interpretations of masculinity, trotted out year after year by a jaded and increasingly desperate marketing department.

Just as long as it’s on somebody else’s car.

— Blake Rong

PantherPink.com

Autoblog

The Smoking Tire heads out to Willow Springs International Raceway to test a friend’s Mitsubishi Evo X, tuned by Road Race Engineering. Is the Evo quick enough to keep up with a Porsche 996 Cup Car? We’ll see…

Whenever I travel abroad, I am amazed at how many products are copied, badly, and sold on the streets. Fake Rolexes are the common example, but Louis Vitton bags, leather wallets, Ferrari jackets and even women (watch for adam’s apples) are poorly replicated around the world and sold to tourists looking to get luxury at a steal. I have no problem if someone wants to sell you a fake Burberry scarf for $10, because I think the fact an authentic ugly plaid one costs $350  is retarded. It’s not an attractive design, it’s just unique and lets the world know you have a nice bank account.

But this is just plain wrong. It is an Aston Martin DB9 kit car. Kit cars were popular in the early 90s, when you could buy a mid-engined Pontiac Fiero for $12.50 and bolt a plastic Ferrari-ish body onto it. With a VW engine in the back making 200hp, you were the MAN to anyone with the brainpower of a 7 year old. Luckily the US took some medicine to cure this disease, but someone flew to Thailand and it spread.

Like the Fiero, this Aston is built on the shitbox known as the Opel Calibra. The Calibra was a “sports car” designed in the late 80s from the frame of a large family sedan. It is a front-engined, FWD car with the lines of a coupe but the heft of a family sedan. Heavy, big, but only two doors? Where can  sign up?? How this became the platform to replicate one of the greatest exotic cars of my life, I don’t know. It’s sacriligious no matter what it’s built on, but at least make an effort. A FWD Aston? You might as well build a monster truck with a Prius’ drivetrain. Copying a DB9 with, say, a Z06 platform would be stupid, but at least it would perform well. This is just the biggest example of “all show no go” since the 1979 Corvette. For shame. So do your part. Write your congressman, and tell him to end the slander of Aston Martin’s good name. For pennies a day, you can save a perfectly friendly and useful Opel from being butchered and turned into a circus freak. Please help.

Got a Bizarre Roadside Sighting? Send it to Matt@thesmokingtire.com

I’m constantly amazed by the stupidity of people. You all know this, because when I find a stupid person, I write about it or show pictures using this site. I don’t know what would compel someone to do this upon seeing a car filled with video cameras, but you’ve been warned: These people are stupid.

Cars and Coffee Mega-Gallery After the Jump!

Who doesn’t like a badass-looking lifted truck? Sure, most of the ones we see are driven by tattooed jackasses that stand at 5 feet 3 inches and like to season their pizza with HGH, but the trucks still turn heads. That 5 year-old part of our brains that endlessly played with Tonka trucks and BIGFOOT models in the mud never completely goes away. So when I saw this truck, less than 50 feet from the swanky Ivy Restaurant of Bevely Hills, I had to cross the street to check it out. At first it looked like a normal 4-door short bed with a good lift kit; black truck, black wheels, yada yada. But something peaking over the roof caught my eye. What is that black, angle-cut cylinder poking up from the bed? Is it a tow hitch? The tip for Kim Kardashian’s lipo machine? No. It is the exhaust tip to end all exhaust tips. Fart cans of the world, this is your god. If you own a Nissan Altima, with an “R” badge and 6″ coffee can muffler, you are no longer leader of the idiots. I have seen plenty of trucks with the semi-style “smokestacks”, and while stupid, at least there was a connection. Semi-TRUCK, pickup-TRUCK. A thin connection, yes, but a connection nonetheless.

Here however, there is no connection. This pipe belongs on top of a house, or a giant cruise ship, or perhaps it could be used as a tunnel under LA for a subway system. It’s so big, even Shaq could drop a free-throw in there. I wonder how often this guy has to chimney sweep garbage out of his exhaust before he can go to work. Seriously, if I lived on his block, there’s no way I could resist stuffing  a cantaloupe in there. Like a fat girl with a pretty face, this truck is a waste of potential.

Does it run on coal?

I checked. Fully functional.

Silly fast M5’s notwithstanding, this G-Power tuned X5, called the “Typhoon,” features a supercharged 4.8L V8 producing 625 horsepower. It does 0-60 in 4.5 seconds and tops out at 186 mph. Off-road, snow, even rain capability? Not so much. And the price for the maddest X5 you can buy? $415,000. That’s not a typo. You could buy a Ferrari 430 Scuderia AND a Porsche Cayenne Turbo for that kind of money. Even worse? For all that wide-body aero madness, the Typhoon is still just a tick faster than the Cayenne Turbo at a quarter of the price. G-power gets today’s award for building the single stupidest car in the world.

[Source: G Power]

1) The police cars from the TV show were all AMC Matador’s, Dodge Polara’s, Dodge Monaco’s, and Plymouth Fury’s. No Fords ever played cop in Hazzard County.

2) Hazzard County has two Z’s. Might want to spell check that.

But that’s not the most interesting part. Local Motors is the first auto manufacturer in history to design cars by open committee. People can submit designs, and all design, powertrain, and construction decisions are made online with an open voting process. Furthermore, if you choose to have a car built, they will set up shop wherever you are, and the local community can help building the car. Neat concept, strange looking car.

Source: [Local Motors]

Even with a substantial amount of rain this week in Southern California, Cars & Coffee participants in Irvine, CA braved the storm and brought out some unique and rare rides. Take a look at the gallery and let us know which is your favorite! From a very special Chevy Nomad/Corvette lovechild to a loud, mean, and very red Murcielago, Cars & Coffee always has something for everyone.

- Daniel Volz

(Parts 1 and 2 can be found here and here, respectively.)

Night was falling fast: by the time we gave on the bathroom and got on the highway, it was already dark. I gingerly tiptoed past a speed trap, all the while keeping my eye on the Suzuki Vitara that, mercifully, didn’t bother pursuing us. Just as well, too; I wouldn’t know what “do you know how fast you were goin’?” sounded like in Spanish, anyway.  Speed cameras, which the GPS system thoughtfully warned us about, were everywhere: on the tops of tunnels, in the bushes on the median, mounted secretly in the back of vans, underneath Avatar billboards (I saw 15 in one day—5 of which were at the same bus stop). I slowed down to 50kph every time the annoying beep emanated from the dashboard, but soon gave up as soon as I saw traffic flying past us. Evidently the Spanish have far less to lose when it comes to racking up traffic violations.

Eventually we were stopped by a tollbooth, and being late after a long day and not wanting to dice it up with traffic, we pulled into the first lane we saw.

There was no booth here—no tollbooth collector, no ticket dispenser or digital readout showing how much we owed. Nothing was on the machine except a small card reader, which we gawked at like it was the monolith from 2001. “What the hell is this?” My dad asked out loud to nobody in particular. “Where do you put the money in?” He fumbled through his wallet for a credit card then slowly stuck it into the slot. The LCD screen swore at us in a string of gibberish. He tried it again, magnetic reader up, to the left, to the right, and down. No reaction.

I looked behind us. Three cars had queued up behind us, part of the evening rush. Next to us, cars were whisking through their toll lanes with aplomb. In front was a solid arm barrier. It was a flimsy-looking piece, mounted by a mere two bolts, a little above hood level. Slamming on the gas and lurching forward would be quick and effortless. Couldn’t do much damage to our car, right? Sure, they might catch us on videotape, but by the time they got around to tracking down the paperwork we’d be 39,000 feet over the North Atlantic. “Go for it!” I suggested, half seriously. What other option did we have?

“Do something!” my mom yelled, leaning forward and slamming her hand on the emergency blinker. Almost instantly, the drivers’ angry faces were placated as they slowly shuffled out of the toll lane, in reverse. There was no honking or rapid-paced cursing. We joined them in backing out of the lane, then dashed across three lanes in almost perpendicular fashion, swinging the car around to another lane with an actual human being in it. In Massachusetts we would have been tarred and feathered as a warning to others.

Dramatic highway ordeal over, we stopped at a rest area that sold beer, condoms, hardcore pornography, Bacardi Breezers, and the entire Twilight series in paperback.

We bought none of those things. Instead, we drove past Barcelona and headed straight for the airport, our road tour of southeastern Spain over, away from the crowds and into the magnificent scenery that I didn’t bother photographing. Finding a gas station proved to be tricky: we circled the same roundabout 4 or 5 times, up and down a grid of rainy streets in a nondescript industrial park, underneath the massive upright tanks of the nearby Estrella Damm brewery. I didn’t even know why I was in such a rush to get rid of it. We had the car until noon the next day, evidently.

And it wasn’t a particularly bad car, either: sure, it was painfully slow, and downshifting on the notchy gearlever to wring that extra hidden burst of speed soon grew tedious, but I expected as much from a car with less displacement than a Big Gulp. It proved to be a surprisingly comfortable highway cruiser, riding smoothly and competently fending off crosswinds, 20-wheel trucks and mad Peugeots. After 350 kilometers, the fuel gauge had barely registered a dent. And since buying gasoline in Europe involves a second mortgage and a firstborn daughter, we were more than grateful for this.

And I could drive it a damn sight better than my old man.

- Blake Rong

A few months ago we told you about Tesla’s ambitious plan to drive a Tesla Roadster from Los Angeles, CA to Detroit, MI(If you missed it, click here). The goal was to address the issue of an electric car’s range, answer those concerns, and put a nail in its coffin for good. The route was a 2700 mile journey through America’s heartland, with 19 stops along the way for interviews, PR, and to re-charge. But the  Road Trip wasn’t planned for the middle of summer, along the gorgeous coast of California, where the temperature and climate vary between “partly cloudy and 80 degrees” and ” Heavenly.” No. The trip started in L.A. mid-December, went through the south and ended in Detroit in January, where the  average temperature at night is 17.8 degrees. If you live in LA, your frozen double-decaf-nonfat-cuz-I’m-on-a-diet-but-yes-extra-carmel-latte is warmer than that. This trip was going to show people that the Tesla could not only travel great distances, but be used in any condition. As of January 8th, the trip is over, and the results are in.

Tesla Roadster #750 made it without a scratch. 16 Tesla employees drove the car 2700 miles  without a break-down, power-outage, electric shock or catastrophic explosion. They stopped at diners, universities, car clubs, race tracks and even gas stations. Every stop brought a gaggle of news crews, looky loos, inquisitive adults, excited kids, and camera phone ninjas. The excitement around the car is impressive, especially when the car traveled through Texas and Oklahoma. These are the places you would think would greet the Tesla with a gas can and the burning branch of some endangered tree.  But no. Parties were thrown, questions hit the drivers in waves, and there was nothing but smiling faces and an eagerness to learn more at every turn. People everywhere are excited about this car.
In reading the blogs, one thing bugged me. In addition to the nightly charges, the team was charging the car to mid-day. It gave Tesla opportunities to meet more people, answer more questions, and show how easy it is to find a place to plug in, but I would have liked to see them do some seriously long drives without a stop.  If you only need to go 200 miles, and have all day to do it, stopping for a long lunch and some electrons is fine, but what if you want (or need) to just get there? The drive was an impressive feat, I just wish the legs had been a bit longer.

Overall, this is a huge step for electric cars. Tesla has argued since day 1 the average American drives less than 40 miles a day, a 1/6th of the Tesla’s range. Yet people still said it couldn’t go far enough. “What if I want to drive to San Diego, or Las Vegas, or Maine?” You can. Yes, if it’s far enough to require recharging, it will take longer than a gas or diesel car. But you can drive it in the desert, in the mountains, on the freeway, on a racetrack or in the snow (with snow tires and TCS on).  And as far as the infrastructure that nay-sayers, oil barons and big-3 automakers say we don’t have, we have it. As one driver said, “If you can plug in your cell phone, you can plug in your roadster.”

Electric cars are not perfect. Fuel-cars may not travel 500 miles every day, but the fact is they can if you need them to. And to keep the range up, the drivers maintained a paint-dryingly boring 65mph (although one source said the car attained 119mph). Sure, a gasoline car’s range is equally affected by your right foot but if you overdo you don’t have to sit at an RV campsite for 4 hours, fighting off coyotes, before you can head out again. But the fact remains, cars like the Tesla are a viable option for the future. They found Tesla owners in every state, and the interest in the car was universal. It’s not just hipsters in Seattle or rich tree-huggers that are drawn to this silent powerhouse. It’s moms in Texas, playboys in Monaco, and kids in Arizona. Through this trip, Tesla showed us not only the capabilities of their cars, but the interest all Americans have for them. Besides, the Tesla is way more fun than the sleeping pill known as the Prius.

One of these is a ball, and one has none.

Read about the entire journey: Roadster Road Trip

Questions about the car? Click HERE

I found this video today, and I will say right now, I believe it is 100% fake. The comments below it on youtube indicate there’s some controversy, so feel free to post your opinion below. I just think there’s a very noticeable difference between this tunnel barrel roll, and the one Jeremy Clarkson did. And if this had really been done, it would have gotten a little more press than a video posting on youtube, because this would be some sort of record. Either way, it looks cool and the car is sick. So put your brain back in “Avatar mode” and enjoy.

Part 1 can be found here.

For about 90 kilometers the highway wound through the open countryside, full of sloping, featureless farmland and terrain that seem to have been transplanted from western Pennsylvania. The novelty of tooling around Europe in a funny little hatchback was starting to wear off, so I turned on Spanish radio for a while. Ever get the impression that foreign languages are spoken at a far faster clip than English? By the time an English speaker hammers out “I’ll have a coffee and an amaretto sour,” a Spanish man will have already explained the plot details of Wuthering Heights and seduced your wife in the process. I tried to decipher some of the verbal barrage machine-gunning through the cabin, and an angrily-driven Peugeot 308, lights flashing, almost plowed into the back of our glacially-accelerating Corsa at approximately half the speed of sound. So I turned the radio back off.

Eventually, we got off the motorway and onto the smaller roads. Here we were just a stone’s throw from France, 40km, a country whose language I could actually somewhat speak. At the very edge of the horizon peered the white tips of the Pyrenees. Underneath them, the rolling plains gave way to squat, squared-off industrial buildings, gas stations and big-box stores: we were driving through a Spanish strip mall. And between the highway and our little resort town, we had to traverse the entire continent’s supply of roundabouts.

“Drive, 200 metres, then enter roundabout. Take the, third, exit. Followed by, a roundabout.”

Despite the signs, Cadaqués didn’t seem to get any closer. Little white houses dotted the base of the mountains like powdered sugar on ice cream. I would build up speed in 3^rd gear, then 20 seconds later slow to 2^nd, circumnavigate half the roundabout, and upshift just in time to frustratingly slam on the brakes for the next one. A Peugeot minivan passed us in a huff, children glaring at me in the back row. This went on for about 20 minutes.

After a while, the flat, featureless highway gave way to an even narrower two-lane road, the last of the side exits disappeared, and the cars slowly thinned out.

It was the sort of driving road car enthusiasts wept over in magazines. The coastal road—the only road into Cadaqués—quickly narrowed, the space between oncoming corners fell to a few feet, rendering every oncoming car a sphincter-tightening moment.  To the right was a sheer 40-foot drop into a tree-lined valley with the guardrail missing in many places. Empty grape vines crossed the hills in neat, evenly-spaced rows, scrounging whatever heat they could extract from the crisp winter air. Beyond the mountains, the Mediterranean stretched out in front of us on the horizon—a tranquil, picture-perfect view of the Old World and the mysteries and the adventures that lay ahead. And then, we got stuck behind a cement truck.

I worked the gearbox furiously between second and third, daring to pick up extra speed, while my mom yelled angrily from the backseat. “DON’T DRIVE SO FAST!” she hollered in that tone mothers get when they insist, almost militantly, on your safety. Only I wasn’t; I was merely keeping the 1.2 liter engine above sea level and with enough power to get around the next corner.

Clearly, the locals knew every corner and could nail every apex with aplomb with the sort of experience garnered only through years and years of imitating Jacky Ickx. The cement truck pulled over at a scenic turnoff to let us pass: us and three cars behind me that had gathered. This included a bright red Volvo 240 wagon that flew up seemingly from nowhere, an inch off my rear bumper—he was goading me to move faster, only slowing to brake early and keep its massive heft in check, keeping pace right behind me in a 20-year old Swedish meatball with the handling properties of a double-wide outhouse. If I obliged, my mother would yell louder and angrier. If I didn’t, the Volvo’s gigantic metal bumper would gladly punt me off the cliff. They wouldn’t find us for days, just a couple of Yank tourists lost in the mountains.

In the end, however, I was relieved of my road-blocking duties by yet another bright red wagon: a nippy little Honda Jazz that had tore past the Volvo at breakneck speed and now had me in my sights. Had he been a less brave man he could have waited for one of the relatively few straights, but he took his chances around the outside corner of a tight right-hander. Here was a man who knew how the game worked. Oncoming traffic was bearing down on him, the corner was blind, off-camber, and pants-wettingly treacherous, but the foolhardy Spaniard could care less.  A gigantic eye-searing tomato streaking past my window, the tiny Honda passed me with a vigor that could have only come from years of practice on these very roads. After he merged back in front of me he gunned it with a shriek, and in three corners he disappeared out of sight.

Screw this. I hung it in 3^rd, leaned back, and enjoyed the scenery.

We slowly found our way into the center of the sleepy fishing town, past the narrow, stone-white buildings and the occasional brightly-colored storefront breaking the monotony. Most of them were closed for the holidays. What stroller-pushing tourists that weren’t already seated at a café were wandering the streets aimlessly. Down the hill, a line of orange-reddish terra cotta roofs dotted the coastline: small roads were cut into the hills and one-garage duplexes sprouted atop. It looked like a scaled-down version of the Los Angeles hills.

I parked the car in the first space I saw. The short strip of rock-strewn sand quickly gave way to the icy Mediterranean. The two sizeable restaurants by the water were packed—understandably—and the lone waiter hurried from table to outdoor table, packed with errant Americans and coffee-swilling fathers—no position to even notice us. Even in the dead of winter the tourists came in droves; they just didn’t stay around very long.

Picasso had stayed here for a summer when he was 29, painting The Port at Cadaques as a reflection of the harbor; though in his famous Cubist style it’s hard to tell at first glance. Marcel Duchamp, the famous French surrealist, honed his passion for chess against the local fishermen, whom he found to be formidable opponents. Salvador Dali proclaimed that he had been “quenched by light and colour” when he visited in 1920—his house today is a museum dedicated to his work.

We didn’t notice any of these things at the time, however, because we were craving seafood. So we went to a restaurant that was all out of it.

“Codfish?” I asked, pointing at the menu like I was hungover at a Denny’s.

“No.” She shook her head slowly.

“Ok, then.” Sardines it is.

“No,” she repeated, shaking her head again, as if she was comforting someone who had just lost a dog.

Surprisingly, however, the enormous plate steamed mussels coupled with gazpacho managed to be filling in a way clams usually aren’t expected to. The bartender hurried over, a lanky, frizzy-haired man who we were told understood English, and enthusiastically showed us the 2008 Don Hugo Tempranillo Rosado we had just dusted off in addition to our pitcher of sangria, diced orange chunks floating merrily on top. We finished our dessert coffees, paid the bill, and ambled about town a bit: my mother took some pictures, and my dad instructed me on the finer points of uphill clutch dumping. The town held no more secrets for us (not that we had tried to uncover any), and we soon left the way we came.

Back on the road, we took a right turn down another scenic drive and promptly ended up in La Port de Selva, a grim little seafaring town with no discernable life whatsoever. The brochure claimed that this was a charming little tourist spot during the summertime, but here in the dead of December it was a grey, lifeless ghost town. Dusty yachts sat naked on the side of the road. Construction zones popped up every 10 feet. Everything appeared a monotonous shade of grey, from the top of the roofs snaking along the mountains to the few cars strewn about the parking lot in front of the communal beach. It was also a town without a bathroom, as I learned from a stone-faced bartender and a supermarket checkout girl, the latter who gawked at me like I had crawled naked out of a storm drain.

At this point, we gave up on the lighthouse (and my bathroom) and started to head back home.

I passed the helm onto my dad, in whom I had supreme confidence in his driving abilities. Here was the man who had taught me to drive, doing loops in the high school parking lot in our 1996 Nissan Sentra XE. He hadn’t flinched when I suggested that his next car (he got bored with cars easily, switching them out every 3 or 4 years) should sprout a third pedal. So I was surprised, to say the least, when he took a wrong turn, backed the car down a slight incline, put it in 1^st and promptly lurched forward into a curbstone with a piercing CRUNCH. Some locals looked up from their Diari de Girona. “I know how to drive manual,” he explained, “I just haven’t done it in 20 years.”

“You better drive,” he then said, hurriedly stopping the car and almost forgetting to set the parking brake.

(Stay tuned for Part 3…)

- Blake Rong

They really like wine in Spain, I had noticed. Walk into any convenience store or side stand and you’ll see racks of the stuff: Rioja, Secastillo, Tinto de verano, Sangre de Toro, in full view and right by the entrance. It pours forth at restaurants with a alacrity normally reserved for Bacardi Breezers at TGI Friday’s. The Mediterranean winds that kiss the tops of the cordilleras form hot, exotic climates, perfect for the ripe varieties of Ribera del Duero, Penedès, and Garnacha grown and bottled under the strict Denominación de Origen system. And that’s before one dives into the world of sherry, porto (from neighboring Portugal) and, of course, sangria and calimocho, the latter a 50/50 split of wine and Coke that reflects the Spanish ingenuity of mixing daring wine-based concoctions.

I may have been imbibing some myself when I conceived the idea at the last possible second. Our travel guide had, tucked away on page 116, a short one-paragraph blurb about a secluded resort town on the coast of the Mediterranean, up the Costa Brava (the “wild coast”) and neatly tucked away from civilization, where the mountains would soar, the wine would flow like waterfalls, the women would be curvy olive-skinned beauties and the roads would be free of diesel Skodas. “Just a short drive north,” our Eyewitness Travel Barcelona guide proclaimed. “One of Catalonia’s trendiest beach towns,” it continued. “The picture-perfect scenery will leave you speechless!”

“It’ll be fun!” I hammered incessantly to my parents, who were busy doing touristy things like fumbling with their maps in broad daylight and scoping out the nearest McDonald’s (of which I was guilty of, but only once). The Barcelona vacation was their idea, and they controlled the checkbook. But I was in charge of the itinerary, and there’s only so much Gothic Olde Worlde streets you can wear out your Skechers on before you complain about how tiny all the cars are and that you really crave a diet Pibb.

Eventually, they capitulated.

So on the fourth day of our whirlwind Barcelona vacation, my parents and I found in our possession an Opel Corsa D with a five-speed manual and a Garmin Nuvi GPS system, courtesy of the nice woman at the Hertz of Aeropuerto de Barcelona who had thrown in the GPS for free and saved us from having to eat each other once we wandered off into the Pyrenees. We would look for Cadaqués, the resort town by the sea, a favorite vacation spot of Picasso, Dali, and Marcel Duchamp. And I had left my license back at the hotel, but no matter: the coast roads of Catalonia were simply waiting to be conquered, atop my mighty 1.2 Ecotec steed.

Midday Barcelona traffic on the AP-7 was cramped but flowing, with a steady, unaggressive stream of traffic merging at 60kph. The motorway passed through central Barcelona and winded its way up north through tunnel after tunnel. Up ahead in one some truck had eaten it and was holding up the right lane: lights, high-vis jackets, the usual roadside panic. As traffic merged, I slowed down, downshifted, and clumsily stalled the car at 40kph in the middle of the crowded tunnel. Traffic piled on behind me. I fumbled for the keys, hearing the starter motor grind itself back into life, jamming the clutch down—stalling it once again.

If this had happened back home in Massachusetts, I would have been executed by firing squad. But no, the Spanish motorists behind me were, for reasons inexplicable to my cold and misanthropic heart, understanding and sympathetic, lining up behind me with nonchalant patience. The air was still with the sound of horns not being pressed. Traffic was still moving on the left lane, and after I had finally remembered the pedal/clutch relationship, the middle lane started moving again. We were finally on our way out of Barcelona proper, and on our way to getting spectacularly lost.

(Part 2 to follow…)

- Blake Rong

At first glance it looks like a 348. And that’s exactly what Ferrari wants you to think: to ward off spy photographers and Nikon-armed ne’er do wells, lurking here underneath the body of one of the more lackluster Ferraris in existence lies the prototype for one of the greatest.

Back in 2000, two years before the Enzo was announced at the Paris Motor Show, three engineering mules M1, M2, and M3 were developed with the intention of transferring high-tech F1 wizardry to the street. It had been something Ferrari had dabbled with in earnest, most notably in the F50, which had an F1-drived engine and suspension bits. And while the engine was the race-honed V12 that would later go in the production car, the all-aluminum F140 good for 660 horsepower, the daddy of the Enzo was actually a mishmash of parts from the Ferrari brain trust: the drivetrain, brakes, and suspension were lifted from the 355 Challenge. The radiator came from a 550. The interior and switchgear was pure 348, while the dashboard was modified to fit the 360’s. And the fenders and hood were custom-made composites: no black canvas Boy Scout tenting here or Razzle Dazzle camouflage here.

Thanks, in part, to that unusual body. Passers by might notice it for a run-of-the mill 348, complemented by generic-looking gold wheels. The elongated rear end might seem a little strange, however. And then, those sneaky car spotters will get close to notice the details: hey, those exhaust pipes are mounted funny. And what’s that giant aluminum thing in the back window?

To be honest, I never was a fan of the Enzo’s styling—it seemed like too many ideas at once, and F1 styling never translates well to the road. (Just look at Mercedes’ attempts, which, as Top Gear pointed out, could be mistaken for something quite rude.) But for some reason, the 348 mule just looks right: somehow, the 80s styling of the 348 translates well to Caminoesque proportions. It’s certainly one of the most well-finished, meticulously detailed and cleverly-disguised prototypes ever built. Owning a (hopefully) priceless piece of Ferrari history doesn’t hurt, either.

The M3 prototype was auctioned at Sotheby’s in 2005. We’re not sure which one of the three this one is, but like the M3 it will probably sell for around the same Jay-Leno-attainable price of $236,300, and we’d only be shocked if it didn’t.

And if you play it right, you can trick those gullible journalists into the next Enzo successor. It’s not exactly hard to do.

Ferrari Enzo Prototype for sale: Anamera

- Blake Rong

*Edit: just found out I posted a bad link. OOps, fixed it now!*

Read it here on Autowriters.com

Photos of all my favorites after the jump.

Cars and Coffee Mega Gallery after the jump!

Everyone knows that a Veyron is expensive. This isn’t news. What is news is just how expensive. None of us really feel sorry for Veyron owners, despite the fact that a regular service costs more than the price of the average car sold in the US. On the other hand, one Veyron owner has done the math himself, and has decided it’s just cheaper to trailer his Veyron to his favorite roads, and fly there in his private jet, than to simply drive the $1.6 Million dollar car under its own power. Astonishing? You bet, but check out the whole article from Autocar.

**Update** After doing a bit of research, it’s clear to me that he must have a jet-charter membership and doesn’t actually own his own jet, because to simply purchase a decent jet is $3-$5 million, which, if you subtract the cost of a Veyron, leaves $1.4 million left over for maintenance. If this guy truly has that many miles on his Veyron, I will literally kiss his feet, but I doubt it.

[Source: Autocar]

Our friend Chris Duke over at MotorzTV was nice enough to ask me to help him install a pickup truck bed extender live on the floor of the SEMA show. What he didn’t know, and what that rest of The Smoking Tire viewers know, is that I’m a terrible, awful wrench. Hilarity ensues.

Part 2 of the video after the jump, but if you don’t want to deal with the 2-part video thing, the direct link to the full video is HERE

Filmmaker Jeremy Hart (Jay Leno SLS Video) decided he wanted to drive the world’s longest road. All 1100 miles of it, and record it in fast forward. I gotta say, that’s a boring ass road.

For a modern, trendy city like Barcelona, it’s rare to see any old classic car still puttering the streets. And when I say “classic car,” I don’t mean beautifully restored E-Types or period-patina’d Citroen SMs; I generally mean anything non-diesel built before the SALT II talks. Most people either keep their rare exotica hidden away from the bustle of city life, or generally don’t bother holding onto something so old. And why would they? Used modern hatchbacks are cheap enough to get rid of the old clunkers.

But here, hidden among the Peugeot 306 wagons and SEAT Toledo TDIs (why they would name a car after a depressing city in Ohio is anyone’s guess) is a callback to another era, a working man’s car and today either a chic fashion statement—as all city cars eventually become—or a faithful old friend, depending on how you look at it. It’s the Renault 4, which can rightfully be considered the granddaddy to all these modern-day pretenders.

There’s not much to be said for automotive longevity these days. The unloved PT Cruiser, which can certainly call this a direct ancestor, has been around since late 1999 and is now only being chased off the market. Pah! The Renault 4 has been ferrying cheese-eating surrender monkeys (and many, many other people) virtually unchanged for almost 40 years. From 1961 to 1994, over 8 million of these baguette-ferrying 4s left the factories of 11 countries, including Spain (Valladolid). The closest thing we have is the Ford Ranger, which only feels as old.

The drab shoebox 4 was also innovative: it was famous for being one of the first hatchbacks in production, setting the standard for the modern small city car. Like any automotive first, however, it’s a matter of debate. The Citroën Traction Avant of 1934 had a top-hinged door. But they never built 8 million of those.

And parked around the corner from the Park Güell, the wonderfully dorky Renault manages to fit in with legendary architect Antoni Gaudí’s colorful Modernist vision. Both are cartoonish, weird, and all too easily written off as goofy-looking curiosities to the unitiated. But both have become minor cultural symbols in their own right. Both have been heralded for their groundbreaking quirks (the wheelbase is a few inches longer on the right than the left, due to the transverse torsion bars). And both are designed for the masses: the world car for all people, outside the park of a world-class city.

In Colombia the Renault 4 was nicknamed the amigo fiel, or “faithful friend.”And the fact that these three are still sticking around, even when their owners could have scrapped them in favor of some diesel Skoda, doesn’t make that nickname a surprise.

- Blake Rong

(All photos by the author. Renault 4 ads from allez-y.info.)

It must be my lucky day, because the odds of seeing not one but two fake Ferrari’s in a single day are significantly smaller than the odds of seeing two real ones, especially in LA, where not a day goes by that I don’t see dozens of exotics. The real ones aren’t even worth photographing anymore.

Here, we have two opposite ends of the spectrum. In this corner, a Firebird dressed up to look like a 308 has gone horribly wrong (and the Machiavelli window decal doesn’t help). It’s daily driven because I’ve seen this one parked in a few different spots around town, and considering the shitbox-ness of the exterior, the interior is in surprisingly good shape.

And in the far corner, a Datsun 280Z with a 250GTO body on it! The latter is executed very well, at first glance it appears to even be the real thing. But the proportions are a bit off and the interior is a bit, well, Datsun. The odds of a small-bore V12 under the hood are somewhere between slim and none, but with the right carbs, exhaust, and tuning, you could conceivably make the Datsun’s Six sound pretty good too.  It may not be the real thing, but someone put a lot of thought and effort into it, and it’s even got a roll cage!

The Smoking Tire viewer Brian Zuk was simply filming the wonderful sounds of a white Ferrari 430 Scuderia starting up. But sometimes, the moment finds you. In this case “the moment” is a drunken Zach Galifianakis lookalike who gets a little, ahem, excited.

Thanks Brian!

Thanks, Chris for the tip!

**Update: Our buddy Matt, head of Porsche service at an unnamed dealership, tells us that this is a main seal failure, and the car almost certainly needs a new engine, which costs around $12,500**

[Source: TMZ]

I’m sorry guys, but Tom has spent the last few days editing today’s episode while on the way to Dubai on another gig, and now that he’s there, he can’t find good enough internet to upload it! This week’s episode will be up as soon as UAE internet allows….

There’s nothing wrong with a first-generation Jaguar XKR. With a supercharged 4.2 liter engine, top speed of 155 mph, and a beautifully crafted interior, these XKR’s can be fantastic buys on the used market, with some examples available as low as $15,000. Even though the XK series was built on the same platform as the Aston Martin DB7, an Aston it isn’t. Which is why this owner’s badging conflict makes me laugh. Aston badges up front, Jaguar badges in the back. And for the record, black wheels don’t match on a dark blue car.

Welcome to Ze Germans Know More Than Us, where we translate German car news before it makes the trip across the pond! Today’s news comes from German Blog Autobild:

Chevy Volt & Ford Fiesta… What do these two cars have in common? They’re both small, economical and American. Gone are the glory days of colossal, rumbling, and seemingly invincible SUVs and trucks. Yeah America still makes pickups and the Hummer is still barely in production. But what if you literally want a tank for the road? What if the Mercedes G-Wagen is just too… pedestrian.

Well, partly in thanks to the fall of the Iron Curtain, Russia has the truck (tank?) for you: The Kombat T98. This thing’s name not only harks back to the era when Russian transportation primarily came on tank tracks, but literally makes a Hummer H2 look like a Tonka truck.

Since 2005 the Combat Armoring Group based in St. Petersburg has been building the T98 and it’s variants for Russia and the rest of the world, in addition of course to the military. This January marks the debut of a European destined version assembled in Tallinn, Estonia.

Hand built by 25 employees, only 20 of these behemoths are built per year. The walls and desks of the production facility are decorated not with car art or scale models, but with bullet riddled armored plates, and for good reason. The T98 can stand it’s ground against most anything you can throw at it, even the heavy 12.7 MM NATO machine gun round. All this of course is made possible through using high strength German steel, leading Combat Motoring Group to even openly boast that the T98 is “stronger than the famous Hummer”. Aside from achieving an official armor classification of B6 (able to withstand 7.62 x 51MM ammunition), protection from RPG and land mines is also possible.

Now, the T98 isn’t all about protection, it boasts some nice creature comforts as well. Inside, leather and heated seats are standard

The five ton, 18.37 foot long T98 is powered by a 6.6L GM/Isuzu diesel engine producing 365HP leading to a top speed of 99 MPH. Surprisingly, the T98 still manages 11.7 MPG, mostly thanks to the diesel efficiency. The fastest Tank-Offroad vehicle in the world comes at a price though: $203,447.86 to be exact (140,000 Euros).

[Source: Autobild]

When we drove the PES Tuning Supercharged Audi R8 back in June, many people wondered why they didn’t simply strap a twin-turbo set up on the thing and be done with it. At the time, PES representatives told us that they wanted a more even power delivery throughout the entire powerband, and that turbocharging would make the engine feel “laggy.” I can’t necessarily counter that argument, but with 536 Wheel Horsepower on tap, Heffner Performance’s attempt at a TT setup for the R8 seems to be a total success. Got a 100-octane pump in your neighborhood? That figure jumps all the way up to 600 Wheel Horsepower, or a low-10 second quarter mile time. Yay forced induction!

[Source: WorldCarFans]

Welcome to Ze Germans Know More Than Us, where we make Dan read German car blogs and translate them before the US sites pick up the story. Today, Autobild.de reports that a new Ferrari Enzo is coming in 2011, boasting many lightweight modifications and a V-12 engine producing 700 horsepower. Apparently, it will be called the amazingly creative, Enzo II. Poor nomenclatures aside,  can’t a brother get a press car?

[Source: Autobild]

My buddy Roger Garbow from Full Throttle Marketing, who also represents the Carbon Fiber Club sent me over this video he shot of the left, rear wheel-well of a Porsche 997 RSR on the race track. It’s a great angle, as you can see all the suspension moving, the brakes getting red hot under threshold braking, and the crash. Wait, the crash? Ouch.

Now, I can totally understand the Blastolene concept of building a crazy hot rod around a crazy tank/airplane/warship/helicopter/tractor engine, but this is truly the ultimate sleeper. A Rover, with more than double the Torques of a Bentley Brooklands,  and with nearly 4 times the displacement of a Corvette Z06, is simply batshit. Half the engine fits in the engine bay, the other half rides shotgun. We at The Smoking Tire salute you, sir.

[Source: PPCMag.com]

Thanks, Damien for the tip!

I appeared on FoxNews.com’s The Strategy Room Live discussing the Cadillac CTS-V Coupe, new Mustang GT 5.0L engine, the Revenge GTM.R, and the Honda CRZ

I can’t embed the video because their player is wierd, but here’s the link to watch.

“Your van appears to have rabies, sir.”

Watch the NightShadow’s First Time Out

This is the Night Shadow motorcycle, by Massow Concept Motorcycles, a laughable sculpture on wheels. It’s a 1200cc Buell underneath, so it’s plenty fast. And it damn sure looks like a leaping Jaguar, but…why? Whenever you climb aboard this thing, you are telling the world, whether it’s true or not, that you have a special love for giant felines. It’s like someone saw The Never Ending Story, and thought, “I want to fly on a dragon!!” Then they realized they’re a  40 year old man living on the planet Earth, and that was impossible. But physics and rational thinking would not stand in the way of this man’s dream; he was going to ride a giant animal goddamnit.

I have seen some ugly art in my time. Last year I went to the LACMA (Los Angeles County Museum of Art) and saw some of the worst shit I have ever seen in my life. One artist had gotten famous for making giant abstract heads (7 feet tall) made of plaster, and filling them with garbage. He encourage others to do the same, and over the weeks the art would start to stink like Favre’s 50-year old taint after a Super Bowl. If his goal was to create the most useless, unattractive, offensive smelling sculpture in the world; mission accomplished.

As I said above, bad idea executed well is still a bad idea. The metal is shaped amazingly well, and a lot of kids might think it’s really cool. In fact if you took the wheels off, it would be an impressive metal sculpture of a Jaguar, which is perfectly acceptable. But it’s not. It’s on wheels, it goes out in public, and it’s retarded. In the end it’s a giant stinking head.

- Zack Klapman

[To me, it really looks like the guy is having buttsex with the Jaguar. Which, you never know, might have been the inspiration for this bike. - MF]

I know this is a terrible cell phone picture. It’s of the window sticker attached to the window of this 2009 Aston Martin DB9 Coupe. I’m using a different photo of the exterior, because the car is a DB9 made so hideously ugly with its Mansory body kit that it broke my camera. For those of you who don’t know, Mansory makes body kits. Generally, these body kits are for ruining exotics like the Bentley GT, Mercedes SLR McLaren, Ferrari 599, and Aston Martin DB9. And in nearly every single case, they succeed in taking an already beautiful car, and turning it into a styling abomination. I always assumed that a Mansory body kit would be very expensive, but never, ever, could I imagine that the DB9 kit costs $57,000, plus another $6,000 worth of installation labor. Want a comparison? This DB9 stickered at $261,000, and it was parked right next to a beautiful black DBS with a sticker price of $275,000. That’s what I call a no-brainer.

(Photo of the actual car by Carspotting.com, it’s the same car I saw at Aston of Beverly Hills last night.)

VW and Audi are ramping up their clean-diesel technology advertisements. They started out with some print ads, showcasing the AUDI TDI R10 Diesel Race car. This showed people diesel was no longer reserved for UPS trucks or hippies running an ‘82 Volvo on old McFries oil. Diesel can be fast and exhilirating, got it. On other side of the coin are the TV ads showing off the excellent gas mileage their Clean Diesel Technology allows. So diesel is for racers and commuters alike, but how could Audi show off how clean and environmentally friendly it is? Like walking behind 5 Philidelphia Eagles fans after lunch, diesel cars were known for fouling the air for anyone behind it with putrid smoke, bad smells, and obnoxious noise. VW/AUDI had to change that, and with the video above, they spell it out very clearly; “Our diesel cars are so clean, we made this timeless standby method of suicide obselete. Buy a gun, because we’re saving the planet.” Leave it to the Germans to turn suicide into a funny, evironmentally-conscious commercial. No doubt we won’t see this commercial in the U.S., because people are so stupid and so greedy they would probably try this, die, and have their family sue Audi.

Great day of shooting today with our old buddy Doug from Switchcars.com. You’ll have to wait a couple of weeks to see the episode, but for now here’s a few behind-the-scenes photos. Enjoy!

We are looking for someone who is basically addicted to Forza Motorsports, Gran Turismo, and other racing sims. We want this person to come race a pro driver, on what could be the sickest racing sim in LA. We’ll see if real world driving experience or gaming experience is what matters on racing sims. You must be able to get yourself to LA, but if you’re into racing games, now’s your chance to be on the show.

Email Matt@TheSmokingTire.com if you’re interested.

*The sim pictured is not the one you’ll be competing on. Ours is much, much cooler.

I love Public Relations. Not the class, but that filtering machine that makes a terrible situation seem fine. Think of the Black Knight from Monty Python’s “Holy Grail”; We see he has lost his legs, but he says, “It’s just a flesh-wound.” That is PR.  Tiger Woods and his wife could have had a medieval duel in the front yard, complete with decorated suits of armor and a jousting pit. Splintered lances lie in the driveway, next to a horse that was killed during a joust. A bloodied Tiger woods weakly holds up a shield as his wife brandishes a broadsword like Conan the Barbarian. What would a publicist say? “Mr and Mrs’ Woods were having a simple discussion about whether 1 wreath was enough for their front door. They have resolved the matter.”

A personal favorite is the re-call notification, sent out by automotive companies when their car has a defective part. But no matter what the problem is, how dangerous the defect or catastrophic the possible consequence, the wording just puts you at ease.

Example 1: 2005-2007 Chevrolet Corvettes.

The re-call: “General Motors is recalling more than 22,000 2005-2007 Corvettes and 2005-2006 Corvette Z06 models equipped with a removable roof because of a problem with the adhesive between the roof and the frame. The roof panel could detach from the vehicle while it is being driven, and strike another vehicle.

Dealers will install a new roof panel for free.”

What that really means: You could be driving along at 80mph, and your roof will spontaneously eject itself up into the air, where it will immediately air-brake itself to 0 mph. The family of 5, following you and watching Dora the Explorer in their new Hyundai Santa Fe, will slam into this floating fiberglass wall at 80mph, possibly killing of them and generally ruining everyone’s day. But it’s worded so gently it’s like they’re saying. “Terribly sorry sir, but the weave of your floor-mats is not uniform. Bring it in and we will brush them, while you get a deep tissue massage and a lollipop.”

Example 2: 2001-2005 Volvos (various models)

The re-call:

“Volvo is recalling certain 2001 to 2005 Volvo S60, S80, V70, XC70, and XC90 models due to a problem with the fuel pump. In hot climates and in combination with varying fuel quality, the fuel pump can develop cracks, which could start a fire. This affects vehicles in…

Dealers will replace faulty fuel pumps for free.”

What it means: If you live in a warm climate, and get your gas from those unreliable “gas stations” (I make my own at home to avoid this, don’t you?), your car could erupt into a giant Swedish fireball. Volvo’s carry a reputation of safety, but I guess that’s only in the event of a collision. If it gets warm out, and you mix Chevron with Mobil, they become the Hindenburg. The good news is, when the person driving behind sees your Wagon explode, passes out, and rear-ends you, you’ll be totally fine.

And hey, the dealer will fix the problems free of charge.

Anyone, anyone?

What happens when I go snowboarding the day before reviewing a supercar and destroy my knee? I hold open casting calls for a substitute. But will any of them have what it takes to review the mighty Audi R8 V10? Watch and see….

Keep it gangsta my friend…. Got a Bizarre Roadside Sighting? Email Matt@TheSmokingTire.com

Personality goes a long way with Jay Leno, and it must, because, lets get this out of the way now, this is one of the worst shot videos in the history of automotive journalism. That being said, Jay gets answers from the Volt’s chief engineer, Andrew Farah (no relation), and takes it for a spin around Burbank. I love Leno’s vast experience with cars and immense wealth of knowledge, and although he’s always polite and asking important questions, there are quite a few moments of tension between Leno and Farah, most obvious when Leno compares the Volt to a 1916 Owens Magnetic, an electric car nearly 100 years old that shares many technologies with the Volt. Watch for yourself.

A few weeks back, we brought you our coverage of the Optima Batteries Ultimate Streetcar Invitational. Well, SPEED TV was there too, and since they don’t move quite as fast as us, their coverage will be airing on January 30th and 31st, obviously on Speed TV. Have a look at the trailer.

Yes, it’s true that the new 5.0 Liter engine in the new Mustang GT is the worst kept secret of all time. I went to the press event a couple weeks ago, where in a very serious tone, Mark Fields, Ford’s best public speaker, told a room of 150 journalists that they couldn’t say peep about the new 2011 Mustang GT’s powerplant until today, December 28th. That embargo lasted exactly 1 hour, and was broken by basically everyone.

This site isn’t yet big enough to play the racing game with the major sites yet, so we try to focus on other things that people might be interested in. Like the story of the headers on the new 2011 Mustang GT.

For years, you couldn’t even call a factory exhaust manifold a “header,” and for good reason. They were heavy, restrictive, and ugly, and most certainly in the top five most upgraded parts of all time. In high school, I had a Mustang, and the exhaust manifolds were the first thing to go; i replaced them with some BBK jet-coated headers.

Ford needed to make big power out of the new 5.0’s engine, and in a very short amount of time. Plus, it seemed obvious to the engineering team that, if it was going to be done in the aftermarket, it may as well be done in-house and with a warranty. (For the record, Thanks. -MF) The engineers came up with a design, and when the first prototypes arrived from their [unnamed] supplier, they looked terrible. Instead of waiting for a new design to be prototyped, created in CAD, then plastic, then metal, one of the engineers simply went home over the weekend with a welder and some mandrel-bent pipe, and made the header in his garage. Come Monday morning, the dyno numbers didn’t lie, and the factory Mustang header was born. Hell hath frozen over, now maybe my mom will approve of my tattoos.

Most car guys I know could immediately recognize Parnelli Jones’ 1970 Boss 302 Trans Am race car. The orange and black paint scheme is simply iconic, and the collector car values today for the Boss 302 street cars is very high. Ford is looking to bring back the iconic Trans-Am Mustang, this time in race-only trim though. The Boss 302R and 302R1 are Ford’s newest turn-key race cars, which, believe it or not, are considered performance parts and can be ordered at the parts counter at any Ford dealer.

Last I checked, I don’t think parts counters take lowball offers, either, which is a bummer because the Koni Challenge-spec 302R will cost $79,999, and the Rolex Spec 302R1 will go for $129,000. In actuality, these are not terrible prices, as a Grand-Am spec Porsche GT3 Cup car will run over $150,000 out the door.

As the name implies, the new Boss 302R race cars will be powered by racing versions of the new 5.0L , 32 Valve “Coyote” V8, and although Ford’s engineers were hush-hush on horsepower figures, speculation among us journalists based on our knowledge of Grand-Am racing is putting the number between 450 and 500 horsepower and a 6-speed transmission. The 302R meets the Grand-Am minimum weight of 3225 lbs with its minimal interior, full roll cage, fire suppression system and 25-gallon fuel cell.

Look for the 302R and 302R1 in the Grand Am Race Series in 2010!

We hope you enjoyed your Holiday. Whether there were tress, or candles, or an Festivus Pole made of aluminum, we hope you had fun. Whether you were sitting in front of mom’s home-cooked turkey, ham, or Limbaugh-shaped Tofurkey, I’m sure it was nice to put your feet up and relax. Enjoy the undeserved gifts.

Our vacation was horrible. All we did was work. It was rough. Matt had to test an Audi R8 V10, but his leg was hurt, so he couldn’t drive. No movement, doctor’s orders. Now what? He can’t use an intern. That’s like giving Adriana Lima to a virgin; a waste with a disappointing end. What to do? You’ll have to watch the upcoming R8 episode to find out. Until then, here’s a few photos from our horrible, intolerable, incredibly dull Christmas.

Welcome to Ze Germans Know More Than Us, where we take advantage of Dan’s fluency in German to bring you their news before anyone else this side of the pond. On today’s edition, we ponder: Why are the Germans are so good at making horsepower at the expense of styling?

English Translation:

Leave it to the Germans to turn an already fast hyperexotic like the Enzo and give us something truly frightening. Appropriately named the MIG-U1 (since this car will likely feel most at home on deserted runways), the super Enzo makes 700 hp, improving on the stock Enzo’s 660 hp with help of a tuned ECU and pneumatically adjustable exhaust system. The completely redesigned body is completely made of carbon fiber, including front and rear spoilers delivering an added 77 lbs. and 187 lbs. of downforce, respectively, and helps the MIG-U1 afterburn its way to 221 mph.  With only 25 cars to be made, this is one street fighter we won’t likely see cruising through town, and if we do, we’ll be sure to move out of the way of this MIG.

(What I want to know is: How are they going to find 25 Enzo owners willing to do this to their rides? – MF)

MIG-U1 Gallery After the Jump

[Source: Autobild]

I greatly respect Jeremy Clarkson for many reasons. He basically does the best possible version of what I could be doing, and makes a ton of money doing it, but more importantly, he has found a way to drive sports cars for a living, and keep it going for nearly thirty years, all the while expressing his true opinions virtually uncensored. I, for one, can tell you how difficult that actually is, because I’ve just barely scrapped my way through the first 10 percent of that, and some people seem to think I’m successful.

But the bottom line is, there’s a reason that Pearl Jam sounds kind of like The Who, there’s a reason that Beyonce’s hair looks like Diana Ross’s and there’s a reason the The Smoking Tire and Garage419 are often compared to Top Gear. It’s a matter of influence, and clearly, we like what we’ve been watching.

I was astonished to learn, on a recent trip to Wikipedia, exactly how many videos Clarkson has actually produced, independent from Top Gear. “Duel” marks Clarkson’s twenty-first sports car film. I have only seen three, “Thriller,” “Supercar Showdown,” and now “Duel.”

As the name implies, “Duel” attempts to solve some of the burning questions that swirl in the minds of gearheads the world over. It starts off well, with Clarkson and The Stig attempting to find out what the best car is for drifting, but quickly degenerates from there into over-the-top silliness that turns Jeremy into almost a caricature of himself. Of course, there are some hilarious moments, and as you could expect, plenty of vehicular destruction.

A welcome appearance from Tiff and Vicki from Fifth Gear was nearly ruined by the fact that Tiff is such a terrible actor, you could tell the whole gag was scripted, even though he’s quite good at doing car reviews on his own show, but the Stig attempting to flirt with Vicki made up for it.

But here’s the biggest problem wth “Duel.” Every, single car featured in the DVD has already somehow been used for an episode of Top Gear. So, while “Duel” is most certainly funny and a very entertaining hour, is it worth actually going to a store and buying?

Let’s just say I downloaded the torrent.

Rarely am I shocked at sales figures. I read a ton of car news, and I’d like to think I’m pretty educated on most things in the automotive news world, but this is really interesting. Take a moment to see in your own head what kinds of dealerships are doing well, and what kinds of dealerships aren’t. Then take a guess at exactly how many cars a good dealership will sell a month. Autospies.com posted a list of the average volumes of all car dealerships, and the numbers are simply shocking. Over half the dealerships on the list sell 10 or fewer cars a month, which isn’t surprising for Aston Martin, but did you know more Ferrari’s were sold last month than Buicks? More Porsches than Cadillacs or Jeeps? Even Ford, which by comparison is doing well, is being slaughtered by Mercedes, Lexus, and, most importantly, Toyota.

Read the full list HERE

I get lots of emails from fans of our show, and many of them ask about techniques and equipment that we use to shoot our show. While we can’t give everything away, we can certainly help you guys get started if you’re really interested in making car videos either commercially or just for own personal entertainment. Our good friend Craig Lieberman, who has appeared quite a few times on Garage419, and who has many years in the automotive video game (he was the Technical Advisor on Fast and the Furious 1 and 2), has put together a great article for Apex Kings about how to get started making videos, and how it’s not as difficult (or expensive!) to get great footage as you might think.

Read the Article Here

Jay Leno: Lucky guy. He got to take a trip over to the Dunsfold Aerodrome in England, better known as the Top Gear test track, and brought back with him some very impressive footage of the pre-production supercar in action. This video is interesing enough on its own merits, but, speaking as someone who has watched more than his share of Top Gear in my life, I can say this car is insanely fast, even without a lap timer. The speed at which the P11 negotiates the Hammerhead is absolutely incredible (and I just re-watched the Gumpert Apollo sequence to be sure), and in the rain the test driver nearly loses it going around Gambon, but recovers just in time.

This is a fantastic letter written by Andy Wilman, the creator of Top Gear, which not only explains the new direction of this season, but also explains why sometimes on The Smoking Tire we try to do things that are a little bit different or a little bit out there.

Read the letter HERE.

Not many people know this, but before I started doing Garage419, my first show, I worked at Gotham Dream Cars. Believe it or not, Rob from Super Speeders was my boss while I worked there, and we became friends and said eventually we’d work together. Now we have, on Super Speeders 5: Out of Control. Yes, it’s a DVD that you have to buy. But the trailer here is hilarious and if you use the promo code TST09, you can get free shipping on the DVD.

Ordinarily, any vehicle with the word Mansory attached to it is sure to be a gaudy, tasteless mess. Now, gaudy and tasteless I can deal with, since I truly enjoy cars like the Sultan of Brunei’s collection of custom Ferrari 456 Wagons, and even a gold-wrapped Lamborghini LM002 from the Gold Rush Rally.

Mansory, on the other hand, has some true abominations, the worst of which was a V8 Vantage bodykit I saw at the 2008 New York Auto Show. Knowing their history of butchering Astons, I was skeptical when I first heard about their “Cyrus” project, a $600,000 rebody for a DB9 that makes the car look more like the One-Seven-Seven hyperexotic.

I have to say, I really like this one. No, it isn’t tasteful in any way, but bare carbon fiber always looks great and for once the bodykit isn’t a two-tone, gold plated nightmare. Sure the mail-slot center exhaust might be a bit much, but the seats more than make up for it. What’s your take?

[Source: Autoblog, via Jonny Lieberman]

This video has been circulating the internet at lightning speed, and for good reason. It’s European-Spec STI towing a stuck 18-wheeler out of some ice.  It may get 24mpg, and the exhaust won’t save any whales, but this little sedan just raised the bar of what a turbo-4 cylinder, AWD can really do. And people say STIs aren’t practical cars. Good thing he wasn’t towing out a cop in CA, they would have thanked him, and then cited him for having modified exhaust.

This is a screen cap from the new DVD Super Speeders 5: Out of Control, of which I am a co-star. We will be posting a Super Speeders-related video in a few hours, but here’s the primer: if you order the DVD from www.superspeeders.com and use promo code TST09, you will get free shipping! Great last-minute gift idea.

Got a Fail Day photo? SEND IT IN!

Thanks to Michael Leach for the tip, via Facebook!

Got a Fail Day photo or video? SEND IT IN!

This is me today. In what could only be considered an Epic fail given the timing, I have thrashed my knee quite horribly. Yesterday at Big Bear, I went off a 3-foot kicker and landed, well, improperly, resulting in a free snowmobile ride from the Snow Patrol and trip to the ER.

About that timing, my girlfriend, and my housemate, have both gone east for Christmas, leaving me basically stuck here with nothing but a laptop, some great drugs, and an online audience. We are scheduled to shoot with an Audi R8 V10 tomorrow, but who knows whether that will happen now since I cant drive. May have to find a substitute…..

Either way, in homage to my own personal Epic Fail, I’d like to introduce Fail Day on The Smoking Tire. All day, I will be posting many a failure. Got one? SEND IT IN!

Jon Gosselin, who just realized he has to pay at least $10,000 A MONTH! in child support for his 8 kids, tried to make a quick buck by trading in his 2005 M3 (AKA, the guidomobile) for a 2008 Subaru STI plus about $4,000 in pocket for him. Not surprisingly, the dealer wasn’t buying. Maybe he could rent it out by the day to paparazzi?

[Source: TMZ]

When the season turns cold, dark, and white, a lot of people get depressed. Not me. Like a deranged Elmer Fudd, I sit waiting for the first snowfall to officially open “snow driving season.” I have more fun driving TO a ski mountain than actually riding. But if you don’t have a car, go hang out at a rally during a snow stage. When a car flips, slides, or gets stuck, the fans here run toward the car likes 4 year olds on Christmas. Time to swap in your winter tires, watch this for inspiration, and pray for snow.

Season's Greetings

It had been coming for 10 months. And while I love Koenigsegg and Spyker to death, it’s a bad day when a 60+ year old maker of passenger cars knocks on their door for money. You want an offer from Honda, or Ford, or Fiat, not from the new whiz-kid. SAAB had done some innovative, and oftentimes weird, things in its day. It made turbo-charging efficient, centrally-locking doors commonplace, and proved that packaged correctly, a FWD car could compete with with BMW and Mercedes.

1979 SAAB 900

But, no offense, SAAB  kind of stalled. The SAAB 900 was built for over 20 years, but the looks (inside and out) never really changed that much. I know people like brand-recognition, but updates are nice. BMWs are still BMWs, and their styling changes every few years. Browsing today I found that fans loved the SAAB 900, but there was hardly a whisper about anything made since. In fact, in JALOPNIK’s top 5 SAAB’s of all time, the 1993 900 is the most recent model. The design hardly changed in 20 years, and in the case of the 900, that’s not a good thing. You could make an Alpha 8C for 100 years, and I’ll still love its looks. Not the case with the 900. They needed diversity and progression. Add to that GM taking it over and providing them with the same cheap parts-bin that sent all their companies into a tail-spin, and the writing was on the wall.

1993 SAAB 900

It’s a sad day when any car company goes under. I love cars, I love the diversity all the various makers provide, good and bad. And SAABs had quirks, but they had their brilliance too. They weren’t like Saturn, which I gladly say goodbye to, because they were an original. They won rally championships, set the endurance/speed record at Talladega Speedway, put the key by the e-brake, and had ads that showcased the comfort of sleeping in your car. They cultivated a dedicated following of loyalists who describe their cars as “beautiful”, “perfect” and “most handsome car of all time.”If SAAB hadn’t been a part of GM, who knows what would have happened. They weren’t the most exciting car-maker, but they also didn’t deserve to be killed by GM’s market-saturated-implosion. Its weird to say “RIP” about a company that still makes fighter jets…

Watch SAAB Surprise Jeremy Clarkson