by Dale Nixon
My previous life as a corporate spokesman with voicemail, cubicle, tilting chair, hot assistant and corporate Amex allowed me the freedom to drive cars of a staggering variety and quality. Cars well beyond my financial resources and, in some cases, driving abilities.
I was one of the first in North America to drive a Ferrari F360 Modena, and got one of the first Porsche Boxsters in the country airborne on a narrow country lane with horrified factory team driver David Murry in the passenger seat (it flew straight and true, no surprise there). I've also piloted a NASCAR Busch North Series car on a road course and spent as much time behind the wheel of a Dodge Viper as David Hasselhoff did stroking KITT's shift knob.
It was not all fun and games, as driving over the pass from Laguna Seca to Carmel Valley in a Neon with Flintstone-activated brakes (well, maybe the e-brake worked a little) was one of the more CHIPs-like experiences of my life, sans exploding tanker truck.
So for me to see a car that induces full-on gear lust is, well, as rare as a writer seeing a five-figure incoming check.
That was until I saw the Audi R8.
From the moment I first laid eyes on her, I knew that I had to have her. And yes, it's undoubtedly a SHE. Gender identification issues aside, this is one of the most gorgeous machines to hit a showroom floor (which it will do later this summer) in years.
Her stats are all there: 420 horsepower, 4.3-second 0-60 mph time, all wheel drive and mid-mounted V8 engine for balance with an 8250 rev limit. And most important of all, since this country has precious few roads to test the 178 mph top speed, a .97g skidpad rating to hug the curves. This is the ultimate sign of performance - the ability to have the road meet the tire like a dinosaur wading into a bubbling tar pit. It helps keep the shiny side up and the dirty side down in the most extreme conditions, as anyone who has ever been sideways staring at an incoming guardrail will affirm.
The smooth arching curve of the roofline is the best top end since Jayne Mansfield, and is said to provide ample headroom for someone my size (6'3 did not shoehorn into a Honda S2000). It does not have the bridge strut abruptness of elder sibling the TT. Power, curves, speed and styling. All important attributes in all aspects of life.
But there is a problem beyond the estimated $124,000 price tag and the lack of politically-correct "green" amenities that seem to be popping up in every consumable item for the last six months or so.
The problem is the fact that the car is an Audi, and as such, my trust level or perhaps more accurately, luck is relatively low. My family's love affair goes back to the mid-70's when my mom bought a green Audi Fox, which was one of the first of the marque to be imported into the United States. I remember that car being loaded onto a flatbed hauler for some problem then having the winch snap and the car slide back into the ground with a sickening thud and a great big expletive from the towtruck driver.
It continued with the purchase of my new off the showroom floor A4 in 2000, which proceeded to send parts to the recycling bin at an alarming rate just before, during, and after the 50,000 mile warranty expired. That silver A4, though a beautiful car, committed ritual suicide with regularity, commencing with a seized brake caliper at 49,994 miles and ending around 62,000 miles with my refusal to take the car back after a wheel bearing self-destructed and took the hub and brake caliper with it.
The replacement, a silver 2001 S4, has faired far better despite a rocky start after being spun off the road and launched over a snow bank on the second day of ownership because it came with summer-only tires on an all-wheel drive car bought in winter. It's still an expensive proposition, as the cramped layout of the engine and turbo intake plumbing dictates that much of the work must be done by the professionals at $98 an hour.
And those wanting to purchase an R8 will probably have an additional unexpected hurdle before taking possession. Dealing with moronic salesmen. My friend Al recently gave into his own lust for the limited RS4, which features the same engine as the R8. He visited a dealer, already convinced to buy the $72,000 beast, but was not offered a test drive (!), embarrassingly low-balled in the discussion stage on his pristine 2005 S4 (!!) and then fed a variety of stupid malarkey (!!!). The sales rep proceeded to tell him the RS4 was a turbo (it is a normally aspirated V8) and the ducts at the front were turbo inlets rather than brake cooling.
Duh. What kind of moron would be allowed to sell a $75K performance car without knowledge of the basics?
Still, the gleaming R8 would be impossible to resist.
It is all about her curves.
And lust is seldom practical.
