The thoughts of a journalist/libertarian–conservative/Christian husband, father, Eagle Scout and aficionado of obscure rock music. Thoughts herein are only the author’s and not necessarily the opinions of his family, friends, neighbors, church members or past, present or future employers.
We drive our cars because they make us free. With cars we need not wait in airline terminals, or travel only where the railway tracks go. Governments detest our cars: they give us too much freedom. How do you control people who can climb into a car at any hour of the day or night and drive to who knows where?
Davis died in 2011. One of Davis’ most colorful Car and Driver writers, Brock Yates, died Wednesday.
“Brock has been a hero of mine since I first got to know him,” Dan Gurney said at a Yates tribute several years ago at the Petersen Museum in Los Angeles. Gurney and Yates drove a Ferrari 365 GTB/4 across the country in 1971 in 35 hours, 54 minutes in the original Cannonball. “He is a pioneer, historian, instigator and defender of freedom.”
Yates’ columns in Car and Driver attacked everything from the 55-mph speed limit to the arrogance of safety advocate Ralph Nader. They spoke to the frustrations of people who loved cars but who were prevented from enjoying them by meddling government bureaucrats. Yates said in the pages of the magazine and in other outlets in which his work appeared what so many car enthusiasts felt.
“He was always a guy who was just a little farther than the rest,” said Yates fan Jay Leno, who also spoke at the Petersen tribute.
“Brock and I were in a bar,” said director Hal Needham, recounting the founding of “The Cannonball Run” movie, “and he told me about this race he created.”
Other tributes that night came in video form from Bob Lutz, Bob Varsha and David Hobbs. By the time Yates got up to speak, he was, uncharacteristically, at a loss for words.
“I don’t know what to say other than to say, thank you,” he said that night.
No, thank you Brock, for everything you did and everything you inspired us to do. Godspeed.
Yates joined Car and Driver in 1964, as managing editor—although he claimed no experience in either managing or editing. The task at hand, envisioned by editor and publisher David E. Davis, Jr., was lifting Car and Driver up and out of the mediocrity miring the day’s automotive publications. Along with Leon Mandel, Steve Smith, and Patrick Bedard, Davis and Yates sharpened their wits and words to venture well beyond routine race reports and road tests. Nicknamed “car and social commentary,” this publication nominated Dan Gurney for president, toasted the day’s brightest engineers and executives, and mounted vicious attacks on those deemed impediments to the automobile’s advancement. Yates earned his Assassin sobriquet with a 1968 exposé of Detroit’s intransigence titled The Grosse Pointe Myopians, which accurately forecast the rise of Japanese-made cars in America. The barbs of Yates’s pen sank deep and often into early safety advocates Ralph Nader and Joan Claybrook.
Bored with tilting at windmills, Yates created the Cannonball Baker Sea-to-Shining-Sea Memorial Trophy Dash in 1971, a coast-to-coast public road race. Although it was never officially sanctioned by this publication, the inaugural test run and four additional sprints following the rules-free format made memorable reading in Car and Driver. Yates and Dan Gurney won the first race in just under 36 hours in 1971 with a (borrowed) Ferrari 365GTB/4 Daytona. About that exploit, Gurney noted, “At no time did we exceed 175 mph.” When Hollywood took notice, Yates teamed with stuntman and director Hal Needham to write the screenplays for Smokey and the Bandit II and The Cannonball Run I and II, which, together, earned more than $100 million at the box office.
Yates penned 15 books, sharing his insights as an amateur racer in Sunday Driver and untold drama in Enzo Ferrari: The Man, The Cars, The Races, The Machine. He contributed to Car and Driver as an editor at large for four decades, but Yates and Davis exchanged virulent verbal assaults through the 1980s. These sumos of the written word eventually shook hands and resumed their friendship. …
The best way to give tribute to a writer is to show off his writing. Yates wrote this in 2002:
A couple of months ago I received a phone call of a type that is common to ink-stained wretches in this trade. A young graduate student was preparing a thesis in his field of study-motion-picture history-and was seeking information on the madness I composed over 20 years ago called The Cannonball Run. This seemed odd, considering the fact that the old flick has long since descended into late-night limbo and video and DVD sales.
Moreover, the whole movie thing has never been a source of great pride for me, in that Burt Reynolds, who starred in the picture, butchered the original script I had written for the late Steve McQueen, and the result, while a massive moneymaker, was lashed by the critics. But like the old joke about Pierre the Bridge Builder, The Cannonball Run is indelibly inscribed on my so-called career portfolio, and few conversations with strangers pass without the subject of the picture arising.
But the conversation with the student took a strange turn. Although he insisted the picture is a cult favorite among his fellow students, he had no idea The Cannonball Run was based on a real event; that five actual Cannonball races were run between 1971 and 1979, with all manner of incidents in the picture based on fact. I explained to him that three guys actually ran disguised as priests (a modest sin, considering the firestorm that has descended on the Catholic Church recently) and that myself; the movie’s director, Hal Needham; my wife, Pamela; and a Los Angeles radiologist named Lyle Royer drove the same ambulance used in the movie to compete in the last Cannonball Baker Sea-to-Shining-Sea Memorial Trophy Dash in April 1979.
Here was a kid practically young enough to be my grandson, waxing eloquent over a movie he could recite line for line, yet he had no idea its genesis arose from the real stories behind it. As the saying goes, truth is stranger than fiction. But only when the reality has not been subsumed by foamy legends and fantasies that radiate outward from the actual event.
Now, 23 years after the last Cannonball was run, the whole wacky affair is coming back to life. Within weeks, Motorbooks International will publish Cannonball! World’s Greatest Outlaw Road Race. Because I was the founder of the races, I served as a sort of trail boss of the book and managed to herd 37 of my co-conspirators to write their own recollections. These “usual suspects” include Dan Gurney, with whom I won the 1971 race; Cobra designer Peter Brock (one of the “priests”); edgy Indianapolis journalist Robin Miller; director Needham; Amelia Island Concours impresario Bill Warner; our own Fred Gregory; La Carrera Panamericana organizer Loyal Truesdale (who with a pal ran the Cannonball in 1979 on a motorcycle); and other notables. Their stories are universally riveting and often hilarious.
About the time you read this, Pamela and I will embark on a coast-to-coast book tour driving a Jaguar XK8, the modern counterpart to the 1979 version that holds the cross-country record at 32 hours and 51 minutes.
Within hours of the Cannonball book going to press, a wonderful footnote surfaced. It was triggered, oddly enough, in the carriage house of our home in upstate New York. Barry Meguiar, the well-known, widely respected owner of the splendid line of Meguiar’s car-care products, came to Wyoming to tape Car Crazy-his half-hour show on the automotive hobby he hosts on the Speed Channel.
Surrounded by my two Eliminator hot rods, old and new, and my old Cannonball Dodge Challenger that is a veteran of two Cannonballs (1972 and 1975), the interview inevitably turned to those legendary races and the madness surrounding them.
I noted that the 130-mph, Bill Mitchell-modified, Dick Landy 440 Dodge ambulance we used in 1979 was in fact the vehicle used by Reynolds, Dom DeLuise, Jack Elam, and Farrah Fawcett in the movie and that the scene in which they were stopped was a near-verbatim repeat of the near-arrest of Needham and me on Interstate 80 in the Garden State. I mused to Barry that for more than 20 years I have wondered if the two cops who stopped us ever found out about the scam.
At that point, Meguiar turned to the camera and asked that if either officer were watching, he should contact Meguiar headquarters in Irvine, California. A neat idea, I thought, but was convinced that nobody would surface.
I was wrong. Within hours of the show’s airing, a friend of one of the officers called Meguiar and hooked us up with now-retired Bergen County Police Department deputy chief Marc Fenech. During a four-way conference call with Fenech, Needham, Meguiar, and myself, it was revealed that Fenech and (now) police chief Jack Schmidig were on drug patrol on the night of April 1, 1979 when I-who was driving at the time-tore past them at somewhere between 95 and 100 mph.
“Actually, we weren’t on speed-enforcement patrol,” recalled Fenech, “but your speed got our attention, and we began to follow. Then you kept going past exits leading to nearby hospitals. When you drove by the last one for another 50 miles, we stopped you.”
Fenech, a car nut and regular reader of this magazine who has two Vipers in his garage, recalled the entire incident with grand humor. “We let you go after the ‘doctor’ told us the ‘patient’ [Lady Pamela], a ‘senator’s wife,’ could not be flown in a pressurized cabin and had to be driven to California-although we wondered later why you didn’t ship her by train.
“Actually, I didn’t think any more about the incident until Jack called me up after reading a story about Yates and the movie in People magazine. He said, ‘Marc, we’ve been had.'”
Although some victims of such a ruse might take umbrage and refuse to discuss it, both Fenech and Schmidig recall the incident with great amusement and have told their story hundreds of times over the years. “It’s one of those things in a career that you never forget,” said Fenech during the call.
I guess Marc’s like the rest of us who played roles, large and small, in those outrageous convulsions of motorsport called the Cannonballs. Now comes the book, and yes, serious discussions about yet another movie-the seventh-dealing with the races that began in idle conversation and general paranoia (a common malady in the ’70s) over the rising power of Ralph Nader.
There will probably never be another race like it. (I say probably.) But damn, it was fun. You had to have been there.
My new Road & Track magazine included Jack Baruth‘s paean to the best non-nuclear power source man ever invented, which requires multimedia additions:
It starts with the sound. You can’t mistake a V8 at wide-open throttle for anything else, and once that sound gets into you, nothing else will satisfy. The internal-combustion engine offers a veritable symphony of exhaust notes, from the boxer blat of a flat-six to what is often called the “ripping canvas” sound of a V12, but the bent-eight is the violin of the orchestra, the concertmaster’s choice. It is simultaneously exotic and democratic, appearing in quarter-million-dollar supercars and everyday work trucks. You hear its song in the Lotus 49 and the Ford Crown Victoria. The V8 logo has proudly adorned the fenders of Ford Mustangs and AMG-powered Mercedes-Benzes. It is the archetypal American performance engine, but it was also the logical choice for the first Lexus LS 400. Some people say it is the only engine that matters. …
Henry Ford didn’t invent the V8, but he made it available and accessible. In 1932, Ford put a “flathead” V8 in his Model 18 after a short, troubled, and somewhat incomplete design and development process. The flathead design, which placed the exhaust and intake valves in the block next to the cylinder instead of above it, was already old tech at the time. At 65 hp, the flathead’s output was more than 50 percent higher than the four-cylinder in the Model A but wasn’t significantly more powerful than Chevrolet’s inline-six.
Ford’s advantage was curb weight. The Model 18 was a couple hundred pounds lighter than the competition, making it perhaps the first American muscle car. The price was right, too: $460 for the roadster. The flathead wasn’t without teething problems in early production, but nobody seemed to care. Production barely kept up with demand. And just like that, the V8 established itself—in the United States, anyway.
Strictly speaking, the notion of connecting two inline-four engines to make an eight-cylinder wasn’t even an American idea; French engineer Léon Levavasseur filed the first patent for a V8 in 1902, and in 1905, Henry Royce designed one for the Legalimit, a model so named because its engine—powerful enough to go 26 mph—was governed not to exceed the 20-mph British restriction of the time. As with pizza and swiss cheese, however, the new world lost little time in adopting the idea for its own purposes. In 1914, Cadillac became the first automaker to put the V8 into volume production, capturing the imagination of the American public and setting the stage for Ford to democratize the concept 18 short years later. …
American V8s sound different from European V8s …
After the war, a new generation of overhead-valve V8s appeared from the likes of Oldsmobile, Buick, Studebaker, and Cadillac, but those marques all carried a significant price premium. Chevrolet, Ford’s most frequent antagonist for the annual-sales crown, didn’t offer a modern V8 until 1955. To put it mildly, it was worth the wait.
Ed Cole, Chevrolet’s newly promoted chief engineer on the project, had ambitious goals for what came to be known as the “Mighty Mouse” engine. His personal motto was “Kick the hell out of the status quo,” and the Chevrolet small-block did just that. It weighed less than the Blue Flame inline-six that preceded it but made considerably more power. Just as important, it was designed to be capable of growing from its original displacement of 265 cubic inches (4.3 liters) all the way to 428 cubic inches (7.0 liters) in the 2000s. It was an overhead-valve design, with two valves per cylinder operated by a single cam nestled in the vee of its cast-iron block, and it benefited from every innovation, and every lesson, that General Motors had learned during the design and production of its upscale siblings.
Cole’s small-block V8 should be considered one of mankind’s greatest inventions in any area given that the basic design — with aluminum replacing iron, fuel injection replacing carburetors, computer controls and pollution-reduction equipment — is still being used today, even in non-GM cars. (For instance, a ’30s Ford I saw at a car show last weekend.)
Ford had actually beaten Chevrolet to market with its Y-block overhead-valve V8, but it was quickly apparent that it couldn’t cut the mustard against Cole’s brilliant effort. The Y-block’s replacement, the 1961 Windsor V8, made a much better case for itself, particularly in the new Mustang that appeared three years later. In the decades to come, the small-block Ford V8 would become synonymous with the Mustang brand, from the original Shelby GT350 to the Boss 302 all the way to the infamous “five-point-oh” Mustangs of the Eighties and Nineties.
By 1963, every major American manufacturer had at least one modern V8 design, with some fielding both a small-block for general-purpose use and a big-block for full-size cars and trucks. Most of these engines, like the small-block Chevrolet, were designed with considerable room between the cylinder bores to accommodate increases in displacement. When John Z. DeLorean found a way to circumvent an internal GM policy limiting cars to 10 pounds per cubic inch, the result was the 389-cubic-inch 1964 Pontiac GTO and the beginning of the muscle-car era. …
Perhaps the most interesting overseas V8, however, was one with American origins. In 1960, Buick released a small, light, all-aluminum V8 engine for use in compact and mid-size cars. It wasn’t a big hit, so the company decided to cancel the program. A few enterprising fellows at U.K. automaker Rover convinced GM to sell them the tooling. In 1967, the Rover V8 made its debut in the P5B luxury sedan; three years later, it was used as the power unit in a brand-new off-road vehicle called, simply, Range Rover. The Rover V8 became the engine of choice for a variety of English small-batch sports-car manufacturers, including Morgan, TVR, and even MG, in its MGB GT V8 coupe from 1973 to 1976.
The V8, then, is a global superstar. But what makes it so good, so desirable, so widely adopted for both street and competition cars? There are several answers to that question. The first is that the V8, in its traditional overhead-valve, 90-degree bank-angle form, tends to be light, compact, simple, and smooth. It’s light because the block is considerably smaller than the block of an equivalent inline engine. It’s compact because it is the same length as an inline-four of half the displacement, without being twice as wide. It’s simple because it has a single short camshaft to serve eight cylinders and 16 valves. And it’s smooth because most V8s have a 90-degree crankshaft that balances the firing order, reduces vibration, and spaces out the power pulses.
The 90-degree crankshaft also gives the V8 the unique burble that has threaded its way into the popular consciousness over the past 80 years. It’s the stock soundtrack for every action movie and television show, so much so that Back to the Future used a Porsche 928’s engine noise instead of the actual sound of the DeLorean’s V6. But the V8’s cultural impact goes deeper than an exhaust note. The Beach Boys’ “little deuce coupe with a flathead mill” was “stroked and bored,” and their “409” was, of course, the big-block Chevy engine. Chuck Berry’s “Maybellene” is about a race between two V8s—an early Coupe de Ville and a V8 Ford, most likely a flathead since it appears to have that design’s tendency to overheat at high speed.
Nor can you even begin to consider the automobile’s relationship to the silver screen without seeing the outsize star power of the bent-eight. The list includes everything from Mad Max to Vanishing Point to The Blues Brothers. The Bandit’s Trans Am? V8, of course—but you might not know that the Firebirds used in The Rockford Files also had the Pontiac 400 under the hood. Starsky and Hutch had a V8; so did Bo and Luke Duke. Two-Lane Blacktop is the story of a battle between a big-block Chevy-powered ’55 and a 455 Pontiac GTO. Last but not least, there’s that Mustang GT 390 driven by Frank Bullitt, evading a 440 R/T Charger on the hills of San Francisco. It’s about as basic as a Mustang can get, except for the motor—but did you think that Steve McQueen would have been caught dead driving the Thriftpower inline-six that came standard?
As for “Bullitt,” this is what his Mustang actually sounded like …
… and this is when the 390 V-8 was magically replaced by the V-8 from the Ford GT-40 at Le Mans, along with a more-than-four-speed transmission …
… in the greatest movie car chase scene of all time.
When the fuel crisis of the Seventies hit, the V8 acquired a new name and a new reputation: gas-guzzler. It didn’t help that newly mandated emissions equipment and the unleaded fuel required by the catalytic converter stole a lot of its power and prestige. But even in the darkest days of the energy crisis, when the speed limit was a dismal double-nickel and Jimmy Carter was on television telling us to turn our thermostats down to an equally depressing 55 degrees at night, the romance of the V8 continued. Mad Max drove a V8 Interceptor in 1979’s idea of the future, while the 1982 Corvette still had a 350 small-block. All the V8 needed was some good news on fuel price and maybe a bit of technology to help it reach the next millennium.
Both were forthcoming, leading to a veritable supernova of new V8 designs and new homes for those designs. Lexus, Infiniti, BMW, Audi, Mercedes, Cadillac, and Lincoln all introduced new 32-valve, overhead-cam V8s. Ford modernized its V8 with the Modular overhead-cam engine, while Chevrolet reengineered the traditional small-block into the LS series. You could get a V8 in everything from the Yamaha-engined, third-gen Ford Taurus SHO to the outrageous BMW Z8. The horsepower wars returned in earnest, and the V8 led the charge. …
The good news is, there are still plenty of brilliant V8s on the market. On the exotic side, there’s the Ferrari 488 GTB and every new McLaren supercar. Affordable V8 choices exist in the form of both pickup trucks and pony cars from Ford, GM, and Chrysler.
Somewhere in the middle, you have the stunning 8250-rpm flat-crank 5.2-liter mill in the Shelby GT350 Mustang; the Corvette Stingray’s stout-hearted, naturally aspirated LT1; and the almighty supercharged 707-horse Hemi from the Dodge Charger and Challenger SRT Hellcats. The latter engine is a testament to what can happen when modern technology is applied to a traditional formula. From its iron block to the single camshaft nestled in the bank between its cylinders, very little about the Hellcat’s basic design would shock the men who designed the 135-hp Oldsmobile Rocket V8 for the 1949 model year, but every aspect of that design has been painstakingly massaged and computer-engineered to a space-age level. …
So although the future might be filled with snail-stuffed small-displacement engines thrashing tunelessly through a CVT or assisted by an electric motor, you can consider us unconvinced. A boosted V6 or inline-four might turn impressive numbers on the dyno or the drag strip, but the bent-eight remains the gold standard of internal-combustion engines. It sounds right. It feels right. And it looks stunning beneath the lifted hood of a Mustang or the glass engine cover of a Ferrari. We’ll continue to cheer, and choose, the V8 as long as we can. Even after the last small-block Chevy or flathead Ford or flat-crank Shelby GT350 is silenced forever. As long as that sound exists, even in our memories, the V8 will continue to be the only engine that matters.
Right on time for Chicago’s appearances in Appleton Saturday, Rockford Monday and Madison Tuesday, Motor Trend interviewed Chicago trumpet player Lee Loughnane:
While Chicago has celebrated 49 years music that has spoken to several generations, and was just inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, Lee Loughnane considers his BMW M5 the first real rock-star car he’s ever owned.
“I don’t know if I ever considered myself getting a rock star car, I just got a car to drive around in. I wasn’t going, ‘I’m a rock star, I’m doing this.’ I always felt, ‘I’m a musician and I’m having a great time on the road,’” he says. “And now it’s 50 years later, and I’m going , ‘Oh my God, I still get to do this.’ Now I got a rock-star car with the M5. I definitely consider that a rock-star car.”
He gives his 2008 BMW M5 a perfect 10. “I was looking for a 5 series and there was an M series sitting in the parking lot that was used and for sale. That was after I (drove) the 5 series, it was a 530 or 540,” Loughnane says.
Loughnane test-drove the used 2004 BMW M5 and the salesman suggested taking it up to 70 and then hitting the brakes. “It stopped on a dime, straight as an arrow, there was no swerving at all. I went, ‘Yeah, this is pretty nice,’” he says. “I started driving it around, taking it too fast for particular corners and that sucker would move around the corners with no problem at all. So it really hugged the road nice. It’s a great car. Unbelievable.”
He bought the used 2004 M5 back when he was living in California and that sold him on the model, so four years later Loughnane got a new M5 in 2008. That M5 is his current daily driver.
“I still only have about 40,000 miles on it,” he says , laughing. “This one I’m probably going to drive into the ground, I have what – 200-300,00 miles to go? This one does the same thing however, so I knew that all the M5s were going to be as good,” he says.
He’s planning on keeping this M5 for the long haul but his son has other ideas. “My son wants me to get a new car. He keeps looking at cars on the highway and wants me to get new stuff, and I’m, ‘I’m happy with this, it’s paid off. Come on!’” he says.
The M5 has a nickname. “I call it the Batmobile because it’s so fast off the line. It’s 500 horsepower. It’s fast, it’s like a rocket ship. The biggest problem is I don’t really get to put it through its paces because you can only do 80 miles an hour. I do five miles an hour over the speed limit because I’ve gotten a couple of tickets for doing too much. I’ve had it up to 90, but I don’t want to keep getting tickets, so I don’t do it. But it definitely deserves to be driven and it’s not fair that I can’t put it through its paces. Maybe I should take it down to Bondurant or something when I have some time off,” he says. “We work a lot. And then when I’m home I’m raising my son, taking him back and forth to school and stuff in that car.”
Clearly the M5 is the car that …
I have never driven an M5, but I did drive a 1994 540i with the six-speed once. To say that was nice is a gross understatement, though when a former coworker mentioned the $125 oil changes BMW sells for his 3-series … well, I’ve never had a car whose oil change costs $125.
The story also mentions Loughnane’s first car, first purchased car and favorite drive:
Loughnane grew up in Chicago, where he learned to drive in a 1960 Ford Fairlane 500, “With those big wings in the back, you could you hurt yourself if you ran into those.”
His dad bought it for him for $400 and he passed his driver’s test in it as well. “I was raised in Elmwood Park, city streets. It wasn’t highway driving but there were people going different speeds all at different times, so it was getting used to all that stuff. He didn’t want me borrowing his car anymore. The first night I took it out I got into a fender bender,” he says, with a laugh.
Loughnane drove it to the South Side that night. It was raining and he was too close to the car in front. “He stopped, I hit the brakes, but the brakes weren’t great at the time, we had to get the brakes fixed, and I ran into the guy in front of me,” he says, with a laugh, mimicking his voice back then. “Dad! I had an accident!”
His dad got it for him as his high school car and a neighbor helped teach Loughnane to drive. “My next-door neighbor actually took me out in his stickshift and started teaching me some of that stuff. It wasn’t all that often, but I remember him putting me in the car and teaching a few things about it,” he says. “I met my first wife in California. She had a stick shift, that’s how I learned to drive stick shift, with those hills, learned how to put the emergency brake on it or you slide all the way down the hill.”
Since it was just meant to be his high school ride, Loughnane says the Fairlane “wasn’t that great of a car. On a scale of 1 to 10 I give it about a 4 or 5. It was just a car to be driving around and it gave me independence.”
He adds, it was a good car to learn to drive on, “Figuring out the right side of the road, how to stay in the lane, because looking off the right fender, it always looked like you were closer to that side of the road than you actually were.”
First car bought
Loughnane was one of the founding members of Chicago and by 1971 he was living in Malibu when he bought his first car, a new Pontiac Firebird. “We had made some money with the band at that time, so I was able to buy a car,” he says. “We had a couple records out, we were doing pretty good.”
Comparing it now to his M5 it wasn’t that great, he says, but back then it got him where he needed to go. “I went everywhere in it – practice, to dinner, everywhere, to the airport. And I loved driving though Malibu canyon with it, it was great, with those turns,” he says.
He kept it for a while until one day when he was on the 405 freeway when he got into an accident. “We were coming home from a tour and I remember Robert (Lamm) and Jimmy (Pankow) were in the car with me, and when the cops came up to the scene, they put us in separate areas so we couldn’t practice our story,” he said. ‘They talked to us individually, we all came up with the same story, and they let us go home. They realized it was the other guy’s fault. He had stopped on the highway, you couldn’t tell right away, about 200 yards ahead of us.”
Loughnane got rid of the Firebird after that accident. “I don’t remember what I bought after that,” he says, with a laugh. “I might have bought the CJ-7. By that time, it had the rotating hubs in the front you had to get out to put it into four wheel drive.”
His mid-1970s CJ-7 came in handy for his Malibu life then. “I had a lot of fun with that car because I put a winch on the front of it. It wasn’t good for the radiator, it heated it up for long drives, but just driving around the city and up to my house, I had a house on the top of a hill in Malibu. It was on a dirt road, and the dirt was clay, so when it got wet, it turned to – like ice,” he says, laughing.
It was tough to navigate the dirt road when it rained. “The tires went around it one time, the tires would kick up with the clay and you had no more traction after that,” he recalls. “So if you hit the brakes, you’d slide whatever way the road was graded, so you just had to keep going straight if you could.”
When he did get stuck, the winch helped get him out.
Favorite road trip
Loughnane’s favorite drive is one he does often, driving the two hours from his Sedona home to Phoenix and back. “It’s just really pleasant. I just have a good time doing it. It’s comfortable, the car is great, and I love the drive, I love the scenery. I wish I could take it through its paces more, but I can’t without getting pulled over,” he says, with a laugh.
The route he takes is I-17 north. “It’s running errands, it’s going to the airport to go on the road, for a one-nighter we’ll take a plane over to the gig, play the next day and then the day after that we fly back home, so I just leave my car at the airport,” he says. “If my son has something to do in Phoenix, we’ll drive down there in that. Airport, shopping, there’s more shopping in Phoenix than there is in Sedona, a small town.”
On the drive, Loughnane usually listens to Real Jazz on SiriusXM. “They play some of the greatest stuff,” he says. “I usually listen to jazz and make phone calls. I can catch up on a lot of business too.”
One wonders if Loughnane thinks to himself on one of those I–17 runs …
Loughnane came up with one of the funnier lines in Chicago’s (ridiculously overdue) Rock and Roll Hall of Fame induction when he listed the three things he said have never failed him — his trumpet, his lungs and his bandmates — and then added, “I want to thank all my ex-wives for making sure I have to keep working.”
The question was asked of Bob Lutz, former GM vice chairman and now the answer man of Road & Track’s “Go Lutz Yourself”:
Dear Bob, Does Chevy need a mid-engine Corvette and Cadillac a mid-engine sports car? You can’t have Ford selling a $450,000 GT while GM has only a Z06, right?
Well, neither Chevrolet nor Cadillac “needs” a mid-engine car. A mid-engine Corvette would likely coexist with the regular model but be priced at least $30,000 to $40,000 higher, my guess, about $130,000 to $150,000. A logical assumption would be 700 to 750 hp, massive torque, and decent fuel economy. GM won’t do it unless it’s a world-beater, so we should expect it to suck the doors off all the Europeans (Veyron excluded) and the Ford GT, which, while a nice car, would soon seem poor value. A possible Cadillac execution would have to exceed the Corvette and would be priced higher. I’m all for it, and I definitely “need” at least the Corvette.
Well, Lutz may get his wish, because, Motor Trend reports:
It’s time to clear those eyes and lean into the screen because these grainy spy photos reveal what is likely the mid-engine Chevrolet Corvette that’s coming sooner rather than later. These photos, along with recent rumors, further solidify that General Motors is serious about producing the most balanced Corvette we’ve seen yet.
This mule was caught at GM’s Milford Proving Grounds. It’s disguised in C7 Corvette body panels and heavy camouflage, but there are a few clues suggesting this isn’t a normal Stingray. The mule’s rear hatch appears to be missing its glass cover, likely to provide enough cool air to the engine sitting behind the seats. The prototype is lapping the track alongside a C7 Corvette and a few Caddies like the CT6, which the photographer says should provide some perspective on the test mule’s stance and size.
A number of recent events have given hope to ‘Vette fans clamoring for a mid-engine version. Early last year, GM was caught testing a strange prototype that was essentially a mashup of a C7 Corvette and a Holden Commodore SSV, which the rumor mill suggested was housing its engine behind the front seats. In 2014, GM trademarked the name “Zora,” which could hint at a future Corvette moniker. The name is a reference to Zora Arkus-Duntov, the father of the Corvette who made numerous attempts to produce a mid-engine version.
Many GM engineers and executives have also tried to make a mid-engine Corvette a reality and it appears it could happen by the end of the decade. The 650-hp Corvette Z06is already pushing the limits of the current front-engine, rear-drive platform, which means a mid-engine layout is perhaps the only option GM has to take the ‘Vette to the next level.
If your mind reels at the prospect of a $150,000 Chevrolet, well, assuming the spy photographers are correct, there it is. Readers know I have a number of questions, beginning with why there’s a need for this car when GM sells every Corvette it builds now, and at a profit. The nitpickers about the current Corvette, over its brand and the subpar interiors, seem to me unlikely to choose a Chevy over a Ferrari or a Porsche because it’s a Chevy.
Call me crazy, but I’m not convinced the mid-engine Corvette is the next Corvette. The rumor is strong, yes. And, contrary to some of the comments on our site, Car and Driver – leader of the mid-engine Corvette speculation brigade – has a pretty good record predicting future models. But it’s another comment that got me thinking: or maybe it’s a Cadillac.
There is clearly something mid-engine going on at GM, and I think it makes sense for the car to be a Cadillac. First off, check out how sweet the 2002 Cadillac Cien concept car still looks in the photo …
Second, there are too many holes in the mid-engine Corvette theory.
The C7 is relatively young in Corvette years, starting production almost three years ago as a 2014 model. Showing a 2019 model at the 2018 North American International Auto Show would kill sales of a strong-selling car before its time. Not to mention it would only mean a short run for the Grand Sport, which was the best-selling version of the previous generation.
More stuff doesn’t add up. Mid-engine cars are, in general, more expensive. Moving the Vette upmarket leaves a void that the Camaro does not fill. There’s not much overlap between Camaro and Corvette customers. Corvette owners are older and enjoy features like a big trunk that holds golf clubs. Mid-engine means less trunk space and alienating a happy, loyal buyer. Also, more than 60 years of history. The Corvette is an icon along the likes of the Porsche 911 and Ford Mustang. I’m not sure the car-buying public wants a Corvette that abandons all previous conventions. And big changes bring uncertainty – I don’t think GM would make such a risky bet.
Chevrolet could build a mid-engine ZR1, you might say, and keep the other Corvettes front-engine. Yes they could, and it would cost a ton of money. And they still need to fund development of that front-engine car. I highly doubt the corporate accountants would go for that.
But a Cadillac? Totally. Cadillac is in the middle of a brand repositioning. GM is throwing money at this effort. A mid-engine halo car is the just the splash the brand needs to shake off the ghosts of Fleetwoods past. And it’s already in Cadillac President Johan De Nysschen’s playbook. He was in charge of Audi’s North America arm when the R8 came out. A Caddy sports car priced above $100,000 isn’t that unreasonable when you can already price a CTS-V in that range.
Switch the NAIAS debut rumor to Cadillac, maybe even make it for 2017. Remove the conflict of abandoning Corvette history or running two costly model developments for one car. Heck, a mid-engine Cadillac could even act as a Trojan horse if the rumored demise of the current small-block engine is true. Launch a high-powered overhead-cam V8 in the Caddy and after a few years Corvette fans will be begging for an engine swap instead of grabbing their pitchforks and demanding more pushrods.
I wouldn’t be surprised if Corvette engineers, or former Corvette engineers, are working on a mid-engine car. There’s a lot of talent working on GM’s performance vehicles, and people move between teams on a regular basis. And the Corvette’s Bowling Green, Kentucky plant is a great place to make a low-volume sports car with advanced materials. But it’s not clear that GM plus mid-engine equals Corvette. While we’re still making random guesses, my money is on Cadillac.
Whether this is the next Corvette or the next Cadillac XLR-V: I understand bulletproof reliability is not common with supercars, but I would be extremely hesitant to purchase a mid-engine vehicle from a company famous for sending new technology into the marketplace before it’s ready. (Remember the Vega and its melting engine? The Oldsmobile diesel? The Chevy Citation and the other X-body cars? Computer Command Control? The Cadillac V-8-6-4? The Pontiac Fiero?) And it seems strange to combine a mid-engine design and probably all-wheel drive (also commonplace in supercars) with the usual pushrod V-8. And yet the usual pushrod V-8 has powered every Corvette since 1955 except the C4 King of the Hill, powered by the Mercury Marine-built 32-valve double overhead cam V-8, which was eventually superseded by the pushrods, which obviously work quite well, old tech or not. (Which might confirm Austin’s suspicions about an engine GM currently doesn’t offer in this Caddivette. One hopes that Cadillac wouldn’t emulate Ford’s mistake of throwing the Ecoboost V6 into the Ford GT by using the ATS-V’s 3.6-liter twin-turbocharged V6.)
At least for those of us who have enough money to consider a Corvette (which once again doesn’t include me), the rear-drive Vette will remain available if Lutz is correct.
For the five years this blog has existed, I have written about my favorite car I don’t own, the Corvette, including such minutiae as its too-rare roles on movies and TV.
(Except for “Corvette Summer,” which did obscene things to one C3, including removing the hidden headlights, installing an asymmetrical hood scoop, and converting it to right-hand drive. The horror. The horror.)
With National Corvette Day (June 30) coming up, I found these photos on Facebook:
That is, of course, Jimi Hendrix, who reportedly owned two Corvettes, a blue 1968 that he wrecked, replaced by a 1969. Hendrix and guitarist Jeff Beck reportedly drove around New York despite Hendrix’s lack of driver’s license. One wonders if Hendrix complained about …
Hendrix is by no means the most famous Corvette owner. Politically speaking there is Vice President Joe Biden …
… whose infatuation with the C7 when he got to see one …
… and brief consideration of a presidential run prompted this:
There is also U.S. Sen. John McCain (R-Arizona) …
… who was following in the footsteps of his predecessor, Barry Goldwater.
(Which is interesting in Biden’s case since his party believes human activities such as driving are ruining the climate. Biden owns a Corvette, but Biden’s party does not think you should be allowed to drive.)
What other famous people had or have the style and taste to own Corvettes? (Including this long list from A — Def Leppard drummer Rick Allen, whose Vette and arm had unfortunate demises — to Y — country singer Dwight Yoakam.) These photos are brought to you by numerous online sources:
John Wayne owned a C1, though for someone 6-foot-4 it was a long way down to get in and out.
It’s not clear if Steve McQueen owned this C2 or just drove it for a Sports Illustrated story (he owned an earlier Corvette until his first wife traded it in for a Lincoln Continental), but he was quite impressed with it after driving it at Riverside International Raceway in California:
Other than the Ferrari, it was the best car I drove at Riverside. And let’s face it, it went out the door at $5,500 instead of $14,000. It had the big 427-cubic-inch turbocharged engine, and the four-speed gearbox, the stiffer suspension, short steering, and they were running low-silhouette racing tires on it. No question, it’s a brute, a terribly quick car. It must be one of the fastest production engines you can buy for that kind of money.
I was doing a notch over 140 mph in it and could have gone faster.
Before actor James Garner drove around L.A. in gold Pontiac Firebirds, he raced L-88 Corvettes.
What else would Captain James T. Kirk drive?
Charlton Heston owned not merely a Corvette, but a 1990 ZR-1 with the 32-valve V-8 built by Mercury Marine. (Perhaps he’s saying here “Get your paws off my Corvette, you damn dirty ape!”)
This 1970 Corvette was built for Farrah Fawcett by car customizer George Barris. Plus points for the color and proper transmission; minus points for shag carpeting and the headlights. Imagine driving and trying to dial a number on your mobile rotary phone.
Bruce Springsteen drove not a pink Cadillac, but a black C1 in New Jersey …
… and a C2 out in Cali.
Before he was the Terminator and the Governator, UW-Superior’s most famous graduate, Arnold Schwarzenegger, owned a C3. (I wonder how he fit in it.)
Paul McCartney owns this C5 convertible. (Think he’s Hell on Wheels in it?)
Jay Leno may be Hollywood’s biggest car collector. Among the cars he owns is one powered by a World War II fighter plane engine.
This C2 is owned by actor/singer Rick Springfield. (If it breaks down do you think he tells the car that I’ve done everything for you?)
Chevrolet endorser Michael Jordan somehow fit his 6-foot-6 self into this C4.
Bruce Willis owned this 1967 convertible until it sold for $150,000.
Robert Downey Jr. owns this C2, and what an outstanding color it is.
According to Volvette this fine C3 is owned by actor Matthew McConaughey.
One of these links also links to a story about someone who has owned a C2 for 45 years. Which brings up a regret, which I regret to bring up (get it?) because regrets are generally futile, since you can’t change the past. I do wish I had gotten a Corvette sometime in my pre-child or immediate post-college years, though how much Corvette I could have afforded at any point is an open question, along with the point about the impracticality of owning a two-seat car without trunk (in C2 and most C3 years) in a state with 14-month winters. Still, the amount of time I have to ever own a Corvette is slipping away since, to quote the Gospel of Matthew, none of us knows the hour or day when we will be driven to our final destination.
I once took an online challenge of equipping a new Corvette without breaking a magic price level. Because I’m a fan of the T-top or Targa top and hidden headlights, but find practicality problems with convertibles, and because the first Corvette I remember seeing (a neighbor’s) was a 1970, my interest in Corvettes tends to start with the C3 and end at the C5. (Though I would take a ’65 or later C2, and I’m not that much of a fan of C4s due to the hideous instrument cluster, though that can be replaced by proper dials with needles.) The C3 is the Corvette I envision when someone says “Corvette,” but the C5 is more practical given its larger interior and hatchback.
It should be obvious that it must have a manual transmission. Air conditioning would be nice as long as it works. A quality sound system is essential, though that can be fixed readily enough in the aftermarket.
And I like green, perhaps since the first Corvette I ever saw, and the first Corvette I ever drove, were both dark green.
Car & Driver contributing editor John Pearley Huffman writes on something possibly inspired by a Nissan truck commercial of old:
Alabama, the author’s Husky, will jump into a truck bed before the tailgate is even down. Another staffer’s Newfie dances around as if her paws were in a frying pan and runs in circles when she hears the word “ride.” Only dogs seem to love cars as much as humans. There’s little (or no) science investigating why, so we invited the experts to speculate.
Dogs experience the world more through scent than sight. Where a human’s nose has up to 5 million olfactory receptors, a dog’s can have up to 300 million. No wonder they like to stick their snoots out the window and into the wind. “I’m not sure they’re getting a high, per se,” says Dr. Melissa Bain, a veterinarian at the University of California, Davis, who researches animal behavior and welfare. “But they are getting a lot of input in higher speed.”
Dr. Brian Hare, associate professor of evolutionary anthropology at Duke University and the founder of the Duke Canine Cognition Center, says the wind blast may be a sort of sensory overload. “It’s the equivalent of watching an incredible movie or reading the latest issue of Car & Driver,” he says (with a little coaching). “There’s so much information they’re taking in, it’s just ‘Whoa.’ Then again, the simpler explanation could e that it just feels good. And it could also be both.”
The breeze is just part of it, he says. “In most places where you find wolves today, they have to range pretty far. They’ve evolved to go places. They likely enjoy going places. It’s not going to do much good if you’re selected to not enjoy that thing you need to do to survive.” He says it’s possible dogs know the car is going somewhere, “a new place to explore, and there might be other dogs there.” At the very least, he says, “dogs associate the car with a good outcome: ‘When I get in this thing, good things happen.’ At the most they understand that they’re going somewhere.” …
Most of all, he says, dogs are pack animals, social animals. But domestication as tweaked the formula. “If you give that dog a choice between being with a person or with other dogs, dogs prefer to be with people,” Hare says. “They’re the most successful mammals besides humans in the history of the planet,” he continues. “The trust bond with humans has been a huge boost to the domesticated wolves who live with us. Dogs have evolved to be geniuses at taking advantage of the human tool.” It’s dogs’ desire to be with us that makes them eager driving companions. … In other words dogs love cars because they love us.
This (photo taken with my cellphone and blown up) is Max, our PitBasenHerd (also known as the World’s Largest Basenji, given that Basenji are beagle-size, and Max certainly is not), who one day managed to con Mrs. Presteblog into letting him stick his head out the passenger-side window of the van. Now, of course, he wants to stick his head out the window whenever he’s in the van, regardless of weather. (The driver must make sure the power windows are off, lest Max step on the switch and lower the window all the way.)
Our other dog, Leo el Chihuahua obesidad mórbida, sits on the driver’s lap and thinks he’s steering the vehicle. He formerly scratched on the window on the passenger side until the driver let down the window.
Leo and Max are keeping up a tradition started by our two Welsh springer spaniels, Puzzle and Nick, who clamored to go with us wherever we went. Unfortunately for them, kids take up more space and attention, so Leo and Max have less vehicular travel than Puzzle and Nick did.
We once had a car small enough that I could put my arm over the passenger-side front seat. Nick, who often sat in the middle of the back seat, would hang his head over my arm, fall asleep and start snoring while sitting. That worked until my arm fell asleep and I had to move it.
This time of year I am reminded of a Saturday in which the number of high school teams our newspaper had to cover exceeded my ability to cover them. On Saturday morning, I took one of our dogs with me and covered a girls gymnastics sectional meet, then a boys basketball regional final game, while Mrs. Presteblog took the other dog and covered a different boys game. We met in location number four for that night’s girls sectional final game. Puzzle and Nick had no idea where they were going, but didn’t care.
That was back in our pre-child days, when our dogs went most places we went in vehicles, including on overnight trips and to our cut-your-own Christmas tree source. Earlier that year, because there was one game that had to be covered in order to have a sports page that week, we drove to Beloit for a boys basketball holiday tournament game. Since the team we were covering won, the four of us went back to Beloit the next night.
When Mrs. Presteblog flew to Guatemala via Mitchell Field in Milwaukee, we stayed the previous night at a hotel near the airport, since her flight left at 6 a.m. (I don’t remember if the hotel allowed pets or not.) I parked our car in an underground garage. When I returned, I found a note on the car criticizing me for keeping our “poor babbies” in a locked car, despite the fact that (1) they had been there for all of an hour (2) in a covered garage (3) before sunrise (4) with the windows cracked. (Irrelevant aside: That was the same day that John F. Kennedy Jr. made his last flight.)
It wasn’t an overnight trip, but we once went to Door County on a summer day. We stopped at a beach on the Green Bay side, and watched the dogs jump off a seaweed-covered boat ramp. Puzzle had bad back hips due to dysplasia, but powerful front legs and chest. That, however, failed to prevent her from not being able to stop and, though I don’t think she intended to, skid off the ramp into the water. Later, they discovered the joys of rolling in dead fish, and their owners discovered the non-joys of driving 90 minutes back home in a car full of dogs smelling of dead fish.
Author and new Facebook Friend Peter Manso wrote this for Car & Driver:
In this wacky election cycle of ours, I’m being asked by some of my academic neighbors here in Berkeley to generalize on how racers vote. My answer is simple: The majority of car people, especially racers, are righties. As evidence, I offer Richard Childress and his years of serving on the NRA’s board of directors; Roger Penske as one of the country’s herculean big-money contributors to presidential candidates; and “Big Daddy” Don Garlits, who years back ran as a candidate for Florida’s 5th Congressional District, calling for the FBI to”turn up the heat” on any American failing to espouse patriotic beliefs. The question of a racer’s GOP affinity is not “if” so much as “why,” and the answer is that conservative politics mirror who and what these guys really are.
What’s the difference between a liberal and a conservative? For the quick and easy answer we must go to John Locke and Edmund Burke, the two 17th- and 18th-century philosophers who cemented the left-right distinction for all of modern times. The liberal, per Locke, believes in the perfectibility of mankind, whereas Burke’s Reflections on the Revolution in France, a bestselling pamphlet when published in 1790, preached human limitation and the doggedness of original sin. For the conservative, government is suspect. To the liberal, society should be improved through human intelligence, which is the seed of all human progress. Conservativism sees human beings as bestial and selfish; people are basically competitive, as well as unequal in their abilities or value to society, and those who contribute most deserve greater rewards. The well-intentioned collectivism of the liberal, the conservative argues, only deprives society of its vitality and inhibits the achievement that comes with individualism.
Leave it to Richard Petty: “The majority of the people I associate with are conservative because they make their own decisions on what to do on the race car, when to make pit stops. They’re very individual people. … City people wind up more liberal because they’re depending on somebody to own their house or clean their streets.”
There have been exceptions. Ayrton Senna gave huge sums to Brazil’s poor, and Paul Newman’s charities and support of Eugene McCarthy and George McGovern put him on the left. But the racer’s task, first and foremost, is to test himself. He is not a normal person, no 9-t0-5’er with the security of dental insurance, but a self-absorbed, self-enmeshed figure. His job is to live on the edge and do so unrelentingly, with the knowledge that there can be a very steep price to pay for failure. …
Like many an artist, he’s driven, and it’s not hard to see that he’s simply too focused, too self-centered to spend much time thinking about homelessness, racism, unemployment, or the unbalanced economy. “It’s me and me alone” is the mantra. …
Who do you hear more clearly here, Clinton or Trump-Cruz-Bush & Co.? It’s been said that no one with a heart can resist being a liberal, and that no one with a brain can resist being a conservative. But the answer for a racer, I think, is obvious.
You can quibble with some of Manso’s characterizations (conservatives, even non-wealthy conservatives, donate more to charity than liberals, and no one who thinks people are “bestial and selfish” is likely to support self-government) and yet still agree with Manso’s argument. American conservatism is about freedom much more than American liberalism is today.
The junction of transportation and sports is a good example. Liberals are considerably more likely to favor mass transit, the exact opposite of transportation freedom. Liberals thought Barack Obama’s Cash for Clunkers was a great idea, probably because it served to make used cars more expensive. (Obama should have been impeached for Cash for Clunkers.) Liberals favor high taxes to discourage such behaviors as driving (high gas taxes and low speed limits), smoking, drinking (Prohibition was the crowning failure of the we-can-improve-mankind Progressive Era), eating the wrong foods, owning firearms and ammunition, and other lifestyle choices of which they disapprove. Liberals are also more likely to oppose hunting and fishing, which tend to be activities favored by those who know who Richard Petty is. (He ran for North Carolina secretary of state in 1996 as a Republican, but lost.)
It’s certainly dangerous to make blanket statements about athletes and their political beliefs as far as what they are or should be. (Nor should a conservative want to politiize everything more than our world already is politicized. The phrase “the personal is political” was not devised by a conservative.) One reason why sports is vastly preferable to politics is that there are clear-cut winners and losers in sports. The human drama of athletic competition, as ABC-TV’s Jim McKay termed it, is about making yourself better, both vs. yourself (improving running or swimming times) and against your competition, the latter of which involves taking advantage of opportunities your opponent(s) presents you. The liberal obsession with income inequality and equality of result would seem the polar opposite of what world-class athletes do.
Proof of yet another area where Barack Obama is a complete disaster comes from Jalopnik:
The National Transportation Safety Board just released its Most Wantedlist for 2016. In hopes to end the boozing and the cruising once and for all, the agency wants states to drop their drunk driving blood alcohol content limit from .08 to .05 or lower.
The NTSB, an independent federal agency whose main jobs are to determine the cause of transportation accidents and to promote safety on our roadways, has been after a lower blood alcohol content limit for years now. We wrote about their proposal to bring that limit down to .05 back in 2013, and it looks like they’re still not backing down.
The board’s suggestions include heavier use of sobriety checkpoints, ignition interlocks to prevent drunkards from starting their cars, treatment and supervision of repeat DUI offenders, and lowering the DUI blood alcohol content limit from .08 down to .05. …
This limit would mean your average american could consume only approximately two drinks in an hour, and that doesn’t jive well with the folks who want to sell you alcohol. The American Beverage Institute, a trade group based in Washington D.C. that lobbies for alcohol-serving restaurants, is pissed about the NTSB’s suggestion. The group’s managing director, Sarah Longwell thinks the proposal is targeting the wrong people, telling The Hill:
Instead of targeting the heavily intoxicated drivers who cause most fatal drunk driving crashes, the NTSB wants to penalize responsible adults who enjoy one or two drinks with dinner.
Longwell thinks we’ve been there, done that, saying:
More than a decade ago, we lowered the legal limit from 0.1 percent to 0.08 after groups like Mothers Against Drunk Driving promised a huge drop in fatalities. Yet the proportion of traffic fatalities caused by drunk drivers has remained the same for the past 15 years. Why would moving to .05 suddenly stop truly drunk drivers from getting behind the wheel? The fact is, it won’t.
… But you have to wonder: if states decide to follow the NTSB’s advice and drop the limit, how many more Americans will end up with DUIs? How many Americans currently regularly drive with a blood alcohol content between .05 and .08 after a night on the town?
Sobriety checkpoints are as unconstitutional as speed- or red-light cameras. Given the Obama administration’s blatant disregard for the Constitution, it’s hardly surprising that Obama’s NTSB favors more of them.
The bigger question is whether or not reducing the legal intoxication level will actually lead to more drunk driving arrests. It actually won’t, at least until more totalitarian traffic law enforcement accompanies the lower levels. Police officers have to have probable cause of a traffic violation to pull over someone. Drivers do not generally get arrested for drunk driving right at .08. Ask your nearest law enforcement officer to estimate the average blood alcohol level of his or her drunk driving arrest. You’d be surprised how high the number is.
The agency issued the recommendation while admitting that “the amount consumed and crash risk is not well understood.”
“We need more and better data to understand the scope of the problem and the effectiveness of countermeasures,” they said. …
The National Transportation Safety Board also is seeking a ban on hands-free technology in cars.
“Hands-free cell phone use causes cognitive distraction,” said Christopher Hart, acting chairman of the National Transportation Safety Board, during a press conference announcing the recommendations.
“We have recommended prohibiting all cell phone use, including hands-free, because a driver’s mind must be on the driving, just as their hands must be on the wheel,” he said.
The agency called for a “cultural change” for its recommendation, since no states or the District of Columbia currently outlaw hands-free devices.
“Since people have limited attention, each auxiliary task impairs our processing of the primary task. For safety-critical operations, distraction must be managed, even engineered, to ensure safe operations,” according to the agency’s recommendations.
So logically the NTSB favors eliminating roadside features such as signs, other vehicles, and passengers. They are all distractions.
By the mid-1990s, Russ McLean had already worked for GM for many years – including stints in Spain and in Mexico – and developed a reputation as a cost-cutter and turnaround champ. That reputation led to his appointment as manager of the Corvette platform at a time when the fourth-generation Corvette was losing about $1,000 per car. At the time, McLean noted, GM suffered from a one-two punch of financial difficulties and continuous reorganization, so he decided to isolate the Corvette team from “all that noise.” By maintaining one stable organizational structure independent from the overall GM structure, he said he was able to make necessary changes – improving the Corvette’s quality and reducing overall costs – that in turn led to Corvette making a profit within McLean’s first year.
With the fourth-generation Corvette’s stability ensured, McLean believed his next task was to focus on developing the C5, which GM had already approved. However, a management change brought with it a new order from GM’s board of directors: Stop development on the Corvette and let it sunset. For somebody like McLean, who had bought a 1960 Corvette in 1962 and who believed in the Corvette, he couldn’t accept that order. So he ignored it.
“As a manager, I believed in doing the right things rather than doing things right,” McLean said. “The Corvette was always the innovation leader for General Motors and for the world, and that innovation flowed into so many other cars. So when somebody told me to let that icon die, I just couldn’t let that happen – it was not the right thing to do.”
He decided then and there not to tell his staff – or anybody else in the world, save for his wife – what his boss had ordered him to do. He kept the Corvette platform team running in silence, not asking permission for anything they did, and he avoided contact and communication with his boss and GM management. He continued the C5’s development as if nothing had happened and was able to launch it for the 1997 model year.
And he did indeed face repercussions for what he did. “I wasn’t considered a team player, I didn’t follow directions,” McLean said of his later evaluations. “Yes, I lost out on promotions after that.” In 1996, he left the Corvette team and in the fall of 2001 he left GM entirely. He bought a couple vintage Corvettes – a 1963 split-window fuelie and a 1958 airbox car – and settled into taking care of his aging parents and the family farm.
The definitive book on the creation of the fifth-generation Corvette is James Schefter’s All Corvettes Are Red. Schefter’s book covers the entire eight-year process that included repeated murder attempts. (To put it mildly, GM was a mess in the 1980s and 1990s, which differs from the 2000s and now … not much.) I don’t recall how much McLean was mentioned in Schefter’s book, which tells as much about the people who developed the C5 (including Corvette chief engineer Dave Hill and stylist Wayne Cherry and others) as the car itself.
What’s crazy to me is that GM would even momentarily consider killing a car that (1) brought people into dealerships and (2) made money for the company. (The Corvette has also for years introduced technologies that made their way to lesser GM models, but that’s less important to the bean-counters than the first two points.)
Of course, if there was no C5 Corvette …
… there wouldn’t have been (probably, anyway) a C6 …
… or (given what happened to GM in the late 2000s) a C7 today:
Martin Winterkorn lost his job over the Volkswagen emissions cheating scandal, but his head should be the least to roll. Lord forgive us for saying something that could be misconstrued as supportive of Donald Trump: If the Trump phenomenon is a revolt against “stupid” elites, there is much to revolt about.
A consensus has formed, in a remarkably short time since the VW scandal, that Europe’s rush to embrace diesel cars was a colossal policy error. For a meaningless cut in greenhouse emissions, Europe got higher emissions of nitrogen oxides and diesel particulates. While claims of thousands of additional deaths from this diesel pollution are questionable, Europe now realizes it converted half its cars to diesel for no good reason. And this is just the beginning.
If carbon dioxide is a problem, cars were never the solution. Cars and light trucks account for less than 8% of global emissions; U.S. cars and light trucks account for less than 3%. U.S. car makers are being required by government to spend hundreds of billions on fuel-mileage improvements in the name of global warming that will have virtually zero effect on global warming.
The real carbon problem, if it’s a problem, is upstream in power plants and heavy industry. If those problems are solved, cars might as well go on burning gasoline. If those problems aren’t solved, cars contribute little. What if we insist on carbon-free cars anyway? Even then, the internal-combustion engine is far from obsolete. Hydrogen, manufactured using non-carbon energy, could fuel the cars we have on the road now. So could biofuels. Electric cars, which we subsidize out the wazoo, not only are insufficient to solve any carbon problem. They are unnecessary.
Much remains to be learned about the VW scandal, but the Economist magazine, blindly marching along, already thinks the answer is more rigorous testing to make sure cars achieve their meaningless emissions goals. And adds: “If VW’s behavior hastens diesel’s death, it may lead at last, after so many false starts, to the beginning of the electric-car age.”
The electric-car age? Why?
Expect, even now, a decorous investigation of the VW scandal. Don’t expect a full exposure of the panic when the company realized it could not hit the U.S. emissions targets for nitrogen oxide, plus the Obama fuel mileage requirements, plus customer expectations for price and performance in an affordable sedan.
A private study, carried out by West Virginia University and the International Council for Clean Transportation, set off the scandal in the first place. The study focused on three diesel vehicles: two modest VW sedans and a much larger, more expensive BMW SUV.
The BMW was a full 1,600 pounds heavier—thus naturally suited to diesel, with its low-revving torque—and carried twice the sticker price, helping to accommodate elaborate clean-diesel technology. The BMW’s mileage was good, not spectacular, and the vehicle met EPA’s nitrogen-oxide limits.
It’s easy to imagine BMW whispering in somebody’s ear that VW’s claim to have generated low NOX emissions, high mpg, excellent drivability, at a small sedan’s price point, just didn’t add up. And it didn’t.
Yet the iceberg here is much deeper. As we’ve pointed out many times, the Obama fuel-mileage rules are designed to bite after he leaves office. In the meantime, they were mostly designed to prop up Detroit’s SUV and pickup business. Volkswagen itself is partly owned by the German state of Lower Saxony. The company is largely controlled by IG Metall, a German union deeply entwined with German politicians. Don’t believe any guff that the company and politician class did not share a goal of evading any mandates that endangered VW’s growth and employment.
Call it a go-along mind-set in our elites: Politicians who accept huge costs on behalf of the public in order to pose as saviors of the climate, for policies that will have no impact on climate change; business people who play along out of self-interest or fear; a science community whose members endorse the RICO Act to prosecute people who question the claims of climate science.
As a historical note, the mental antecedent here is the energy crisis of the 1970s, which became conflated with the environmental crisis of the 1970s, bequeathing an intuition that requiring higher-mileage vehicles would solve some actual problem (it wouldn’t).
Alas, a genuine coming-clean would be very different from what we’re about to get out of the VW mess. Let car makers build the cars the public wants; these cars would likely be roughly as safe and clean—or more so—than those churned out under regulatory mandate. Naturally, readers will doubt this last bit: They are wrong, because, in their innocence, they believe reason plays a bigger role in our regulatory designs than it actually does.