Electric Epoch

An unforgettable 119-mph drag race in a Tesla.

 

  Pirate Press            August 2022  

                                                                                  

 

On a hot summer Sunday in June, I experienced a paradigmatic moment in my life. Like my first time getting on the internet, it was a tangible event clearly divided by the before and after events. And for me, once that point of no return was passed, there's no going back. 

I've been very vocal about my resistance to electric cars, but I've wanted to rent one for several years just to see what the fuss was about. Back in 2017, I thought it would be fun to rent a Tesla in New Orleans and drive to the Florida Keys solely using Tesla's network of charging stations. Unfortunately, even five years later, it's still prohibitive from both a financial and charging standpoint. After driving the 900 hp Hellcat in 2020, I felt the perfect followup would be a test drive of a 1,020 hp Tesla Plaid, it's electric antithesis. I came pretty close to renting one in Orlando earlier this year until a last minute change in plans literally pulled the plug on it.

But a month later, longtime-reader Randy Saunders notified me that he had ordered a Tesla that would be arriving shortly. Over the past thirty years I've known him, he's owned an enviable variety of different performance cars, several of which I've covered in these articles. So when he put his unreliable Jeep up for sale, I was sure he would be getting a new Mustang Mach 1. Instead, he surprised me with the Tesla, which I felt is akin to going from a carnivore to vegetarian diet. 

However, it turns out there was a method to his madness that I would soon discover.

It all started with the Cars and Coffee Biloxi chapter moving their June meeting to Gulfport Dragway. This was ostensibly because the previous events had gotten more and more dangerous due to reckless drivers attempting to show-off with burnouts and other illegal activities. I'm not saying that smoking the tires doesn't have a rightful place at car shows, it's just that it's not safe near large crowds of unprotected people.

I'm typically opposed to rising early on Sunday mornings, and due to that, this was the first Cars and Coffee I had attended in almost three years. So, the night before I offhandedly invited my daughter to go with me, I fully expected her to decline. But to my surprise she enthusiastically agreed and then I was left wondering if I'd made a big mistake? Would she quickly tire of the racing and be bored? Would she be miserable standing for so long in the sweltering heat? And, in a society reeling from a pandemic, an overturned Roe vs. Wade decision and the highest inflation in forty years, does the world really need a live-action Barbie movie?     

After all, the last time I took Victoria to a drag strip was for the "PINKS ALL OUT" races in 2008 when she was just three. In fact, she even wanted to wear her "PINKS" beanie from that event until she discovered it would be over 100 degrees, but I applauded her enthusiasm nonetheless.

Despite my initial concerns, she was up early on Sunday morning and we left at 8am to be in Gulfport by 9am when the event started. Having a freshly minted driver's license, I offered to let her pilot the Fusion and she accepted. I warned her that while it was not nearly as nice as her new 2022 Forte, it did possess over 100 more horsepower so she might enjoy stretching its legs a bit. Unlike her mother, I don't discourage her from driving fast and I actually think it's good to safely experience the capabilities of a car when conditions permit. 

Traffic was light, and with miles of visibility in front of us I allowed her to go as fast as she felt comfortable. Briefly nudging ninety a couple times, we made it to the drag strip about 20 minutes early. And in retrospect, we probably should have arrived even sooner as traffic was backed up halfway down the entrance road. Unbelievably, the car in front of us was also a Fusion like mine even down to the same red metallic paint. However, it was the four-cylinder model and had clearly been neglected. Advertising the owner's intellect (or lack thereof) was a classy bumper sticker that read "Gas, Grass or Ass, Nobody Rides Free." Given that optimistic outlook, the driver should be careful not to pick up any "hitchhikers" that can't be dismissed with even the strongest does of antibiotics. And finally, who still refers to marijuana as "grass" anyway?!? That sobriquet hasn't been relevant since bell bottoms and CB radios were popular.

After signing waivers to not hold Gulfport Dragway responsible if we were horribly maimed or killed, we paid our $20 and were let into our own adult amusement park where we thankfully weren't harassed by employees in creepy mouse costumes or brainwashed with woke agendas.

I found an empty row and parked only to see it quickly fill up with the most expensive cars of the whole event. It was certainly the best company my car has ever been in, but next to the low-slung Lamborghini my otherwise sporty Fusion looked as tall and cumbersome as a 4x4 Bronco. However, with the Aventador's scissor doors, I certainly didn't have to worry about any door dings!  

The humidity and ambient temperature were both hovering around 90 so we made a beeline to the concession stand to pick up some bottled water. Just as we did, I saw a dark blue Tesla streak down the track. I thought it might have been Randy, but that Tesla looked like a darker blue than the single cellphone picture I'd seen of his.

But on the off chance it was him, we walked to the side of the return road and waited for the Tesla to pass by. 

System Shock

As it approached us, the Tesla abruptly stopped and the window rolled down. Sure enough, it was Randy and he simply said, "Get In!" I reached for the door handle only to awkwardly discover that there wasn't one there. Instead, there was just a thin strip of black metal that was flush with the door panel. Even more embarrassing, my 16 year-old daughter apparently knew more about the Tesla than I did: she had already opened her rear door and subsequently showed me how to open mine. Despite my chagrin, I later discovered that Googling "How to open Tesla door" will produce roughly 75 million results, with the official instructions being something like "To open the door, simply press the wider part of the non-mechanical door handle with your thumb. Use the rest of your hand to grab the thin part of the handle as it pivots open and pull or simply pull open the door from its edge." 

As I slid into the painfully-clean white leather seat, my immediate concern was inquiring if our water bottles were acceptable? After all, I'm particular about drinks and food in my car so I feel its only right to extend the same courtesy and respect to others, particularly those who are charitable enough to offer my daughter and me a $60,000 joyride. Randy nonchalantly waved it off and I was next struck by the intense minimalism of the interior. A massive 15" touchscreen dominated the cabin but aside from that there was only a sculpted dash that makes the Model 3 looks as futuristic as a UFO.  

Literally everything seems to be controlled by the Macbook-sized display, even down to the fan controls for the air-conditioning, which Randy had set to high. As I stated earlier, the Tesla rewrites a lot of what I grew up knowing about cars, because those rules no longer apply. For instance, whether racing on the street or at the track, the air-conditioning was always turned off for better performance even if it was 100 degrees. But with an electric car, that's not an issue as it has no moving parts like an A/C compressor to cause parasitic drag. Similarly, there's no messy fluids to deal with such as gasoline or dirty motor oil to dispose of. 

We pulled through the pits as Randy explained that with Cars and Coffee's relaxed rules, we could join him down the quarter-mile without even so much as a helmet. That's when I noticed that we had randomly been paired with a small, white BMW that looked to be an M-Class 2 Series. I'm admittedly not a BMW aficionado, but Randy surmised that it was probably packing around 400hp and would be a formidable opponent. 

Victoria was giddy with excitement in the back seat as this was not only her first time in a fully-electric car, but also her first drag race. I instructed her to film the race as I was confident we would pull away from the BMW once underway. 

Sadly, there was no scantily-clad young girl at the starting line performing the arm-drop as is so often glamorized in movies like The Fast & The Furious. Instead, we got some crusty old man who looked like he may have just wandered in from a nearby homeless camp. That notwithstanding, he did an acceptable job of making sure we were both lined-up and ready before waving us off.

I asked Randy if there was any special procedure the Model 3 required for an optimum launch, such as brake-loading the powertrain, but he said there wasn't. Apparently, all that's needed is simply stomping the gas pedal, er, I mean electric pedal to the floor as fast as possible once the race starts. 

Now, I wasn't sure what the BMW had in its arsenal, but I was fairly certain that our Tesla would win given the nearly insurmountable combination of its electric motor and all-wheel-drive (AWD). For instance, petrol engines like the one in the BMW don't make maximum power right off the line, nor can all that energy be effectively channeled to just the rear wheels. In short, it doesn't matter if we were racing a car with 1000hp if it couldn't put it to the pavement. 

Silent Violence 

However, I have to give props to the Bimmer driver as he had a quick reaction time and got a pretty good launch. Unfortunately for him, we were already a car-length ahead by the 60-foot mark and that grew to around 5 car-lengths by the eighth-mile. Randy had described the Tesla's 4.0-second 0-60 as "brutal" and he wasn't exaggerating— the neck-snapping catapult and continuous surge of power were a little disorienting at first. It was also eerily quiet as we shot down the track, with only a low, mechanical hum and the growing sound of rapidly displaced air. Thanks to the huge screen, I could see the vehicle speed swiftly rising, hitting 119 mph before Randy let off. Car and Driver measured a 12.3 @ 115 mph quarter-mile from their Long Range Model 3 and that seemed to fall right in line with what I experienced.

Normally, Amanda would pitch a fit if I admitted that I'd just gone 119 mph in a car (which is why I usually don't tell her). But, disclosing that Victoria was a passenger in a car doing almost 120 mph would probably send her into cardiac arrest. However, she was unusually relaxed about our spin in the Tesla and I mainly attribute that to it being within the safe confines of the track and the protection it affords. Yet, regardless of the reason, it was simply nice to enjoy some triple-digit speeds without any spousal scolding.      

But on to the subject of the Mustang Mach 1 that I mentioned earlier. Next to Ford's muscular pony car, the Tesla appears downright anemic. Indeed, I've never gone so fast in a car that looks so slow. In fact, judged solely on outward appearance, I bet not a single person would pick the Tesla over the Mustang.

But is there really that big of a difference between them?

Price-wise, the Tesla Model 3 Long Range rings in at an as-tested price of $57,960 to the Mustang's $63,745.

And while they admittedly employ vastly different methods of operation, their performance is remarkably similar with the Tesla having the edge despite less horsepower (-30hp) and more weight (+200lbs.). Thanks to AWD and the instantaneous power delivery, the Model 3 rockets to 60 mph in 4 seconds flat, 3 tenths faster than the Mach 1. The gaps grows by another tenth all the way until 130 mph which the Tesla covers in 16.7 seconds to the Mustang's 17.1 seconds. 

In more pedestrian maneuvers, Randy claims he's logged 1,500 miles on his Model 3 at an estimated cost of just $30 in electricity. In comparison, it would cost nearly $350 in 93 octane to replicate the same distance in the Mach 1. Furthermore, after the short drive to the drag strip and six wide-open passes down the track, he pointed out his battery was still 80% charged.     

In the end, the Tesla might not stir the emotions nor convey the visceral appeal like the Mach 1, but with a cheaper price, not having to buy pricey high-octane and a quieter, more comfortable ride, the Model 3 is the educated man's muscle car.

Tires and Traction

In the ensuing nearly twenty years since I was last at Gulfport Dragway, there have been some welcome additions, such as a new burnout box located adjacent to the Starting line. I wasn't familiar with this area but was pleased to witness a stripped-down Corvette LT1 bravely enter and begin the longest continuous burnout I've ever seen. 

After a tortuous four or five minutes, the Corvette exited but more smoke was now emanating from the radiator than the tires. It appeared that the punishing activity had caused the engine to overheat and was spewing radiator fluid everywhere.

Fortunately, the poor Corvette was far from a museum piece so I doubt the owner was concerned about any potential damage.

Next up for our amusement was a new Toyota Supra, albeit in 1/10th scale, that was also quite adept at being flung around the burnout box. The tiny RC car zipped around, doing complete 360-degree turns and providing quite the comic relief.

Back on the track, a new Acura NSX was the only real exotic car brave enough to drag-race. I posted a thread on the Ferrari forum encouraging nearby owners to show what their prancing horse could do on the strip, but none had the balls to even show up, much less race it. That was disappointing because there are usually several Ferraris at every Cars and Coffee, but this time there were zero, underscoring the fact that the majority of owners are rich elitists who simply buy them for ego-inflating purposes.  

Clocking in at $200K, the NSX with questionable aquamarine wheels was dominating the field with it's AWD and 600 Hybrid-Electric horses which enabled a 2.9-second 0-60 sprint. A C7 Z06 stepped up to challenge it, and with more horsepower and less weight, seemed like it might end the Acura's reign. But like other opponents, the Corvette struggled to transfer all that power to the rear wheels and the NSX got the holeshot and pulled away.

The drag strip has always been a "Run-What-Ya-Brung" environment and that makes for some interesting and unpredictable match-ups. Case in point: What looked to be an Audi RS Q8 SUV replete with a loaded luggage rack proved to be the most bonkers racer of the day. It was haphazardly paired with a sleek, F-Type 400 in what the Jaguar driver must have thought would be a slam-dunk in his favor. But as the saying goes, you can't judge a book (or car, in this case) by its cover and despite it's preposterous appearance, the portly Audi jumped off the line much to the chagrin of the Jag owner. With 600hp, the Q8 has the same twin-turbo V8 as the Lamborghini Urus so it was Germany vs. Great Britain all over again. Towards the end of the race, it looked like the Audi's battleship aerodynamics and weight began to take a toll, allowing the leaping cat to just slip by but it was a real nail-biter.

However, the most unintentional excitement came from a race between a new Toyota Supra and a Dodge 392 Challenger. Reports are that the hot-rodded Supra was pushing close to 600hp and right off the line both cars were side-by-side. Yet without any warning, the Supra was apparently struck by power-on oversteer and suddenly smashed into the left guardrail. It then bounced off it and slid across the track into the right guardrail where it came to a crumpled stop.

The impact was such that the track was immediately closed while the Supra was inspected and removed. Randy mused that with no on-site ambulance or wrecker, and a lengthy track clean-up, it would likely be the last race of the day. This was depressing news and I couldn't help but felt somewhat responsible. After all, I had jokingly admitted that I hoped to see some rich idiot blow their exotic car up but I hadn't anticipated that such an event would shut the track down. 

So, with Randy's prognostication we decided to leave and others seemed to do the same thing, as there was suddenly an unspoken mass exodus. Victoria wanted to eat lunch at The Sugar Factory so we headed there in the coolest traffic jam ever. 

Unfortunately, once on the interstate we soon discovered that our exit was blocked by not one, but two burning 18-wheeler trucks. According to the accident report, the flames were difficult to extinguish given the large amount of fuel onboard both vehicles. Thankfully, Waze re-routed us around the wreck and through Woolmarket so we didn't lose much time. However, we came out right across from the Gulf Coast Veterinary Emergency Hospital which Victoria thoughtfully reminded me is where we took her sick cat when it was near death in 2018. He lived, but I now refer to the place as the Ritz-Carlton because a three-day stay set me back $1,500 and the damn cat was so pampered he didn't want to leave! 

Once at the Hard Rock Hotel, we discovered that there was a 30-minute wait for seating due to the unprecedented glut of post-Covid tourists. And contributing to the delay was a family of ten from Baton Rouge ahead of us which I never understood. Personally, I can't imagine anyone from Louisiana traveling to Biloxi for a vacation when Texas, Georgia or Florida have so much more to offer.

Our waitress was nice enough, even though she had blue hair and looked like she belonged in a Japanese Anime movie. But, I was taken aback when she informed me they had no sweet tea. She then elaborated and explained that they were actually completely out of sugar. Suddenly, it felt like a surreal setup for some game show we were unknowingly on. And then Victoria clarified, "So, it's called The Sugar Factory but you're out of sugar!?!" It sounded too bizarre to be real, but in fact was true, and is the only time in my life I've ever heard of such a peculiar shortage, particularly since it's the name of the establishment. It's like Taco Bell being out of tacos!

Nevertheless, Victoria and I both decided on the Waffle Breakfast Burger, a towering salute to cholesterol and American excess that strikes fear into the heart of even the most hardened cardiologist. It starts life as a half-pound burger but gets corrupted with two waffles for the buns, applewood bacon, smoked sausage, a fried egg, hash browns, country gravy, maple syrup and—last but certainly not least—butter! I also admire their dedication to making it as unhealthy as possible with three types of meat but not a single redeeming green vegetable. Of course, it was delicious and I completely devoured mine, but it was so messy Victoria had to use a knife and fork on hers.  

But as enjoyable as the burger was, the best part of the meal came when it was time to pay. Because of the nearly hour wait for our food, the manager apparently took pity on us and comped our whole check. I joked with Victoria that had I known it was free, I would have ordered an appetizer and a dessert, too! Despite that, I still tipped our waitress $20 so she wouldn't run out of blue hair dye and I left the casino satisfied that I actually came out slightly ahead for once!  

If nothing else, the time with Randy's Tesla convinced me that electric cars are indeed a viable automotive alternative. But, I'm still partial to combustion engines as I love the smell and sound of spent exhaust gases. However, that's not to say that Amanda won't get an EV in the next couple years when we trade in her Santa Fe because electric cars are clearly the future of transportation.          

 

 

Snow White & The Z06

 Featuring the most improbable test-drive ever!

 

  Pirate Press         February 2022

 

It was December 23rd and Amanda was confused.

She thought we were going to buy Victoria a Manatee for Christmas.

Yet despite 21 years of marriage, she's so unfazed by my crazy, impulsive trips involving large purchases that she didn't even ask any questions, like where we'd keep an aquatic mammal the size and weight of a small car?

But as amusing as the idea of a pet Manatee was, I explained to her that we were actually driving to Manatee Springs, Florida to buy a Mustang. And just for further clarification, I added that it was a four-wheeled Mustang and not a four-legged Mustang because as much as Victoria would enjoy a real horse, a car makes so much more sense.

Due to the global pandemic and chip shortage, our car-buying desperation was genuine because, quite frankly, Amanda and I were tired of 16 years of taking and picking our daughter up from endless social engagements, football games and dance classes. I wanted to ask Victoria why she couldn't be more antisocial like her cousin who has no friends and stays locked in her room? It's certainly a lot cheaper and less trouble, but for some reason Amanda thought that was a bad idea.

So, in what's become bizarrely commonplace for us, we were headed to another obscure small town to procure a very specific car. Interestingly, of the past eight vehicles we've purchased, the average one-way distance we've traveled is 452 miles. That's essentially like driving to Disney World, picking up a car and driving back home. It's not fun or glamorous but is unfortunately necessary as a clean-title, low-mileage Mustang is more elusive than Bigfoot.

Indeed, Amanda and I'd been looking over a year for the right car only to come across some very "interesting" selections. Naturally, I was pushing for a sensible choice like a Saturn and I'd found a great one in Atlanta that was just one notch below the Red Line I'd owned. But after a test-drive, Victoria decided it looked too much like a "grandma" car so we left empty-handed. And for some unexplained reason, she was hung up on the notion of wanting a "Pony Car" like a Camaro, Challenger or Mustang. I told Amanda that I didn't know where that deviant desire sprung from, but that I didn't like it one bit. Surprisingly, she didn't say a word. 

And of the sports car trio, I was reluctantly partial to a Mustang as I'd owned a 1990 GT and my Uncle had a '65 model. Granted, this search was mostly frustrating and fruitless, but did lead to an awkward meeting in a deserted Which Wich parking lot to test drive a 2014 V6 model. The conversation took a nose-dive when the owner volunteered that it had "factory glasspacks" on it. Of course, I knew there was no such thing but I played along wondering what kind of additional info he might divulge. Apparently, the previous owner was the one responsible for the bastardized exhaust and it sounded positively terrible under full acceleration. In fact, it made such a cacophony that I genuinely wondered how anyone could mangle a V6 exhaust note that badly. Needless to say, it was a deal-breaker and I left there as quickly as possible. 

Despite our best efforts, Amanda and I were resigned to the fact that we weren't going to find a car for Victoria by Christmas. But our holiday miracle was spotting the Mustang in backwater Manatee Springs (Population 2,245) just two days before Santa was due to arrive.  I ruminated that perhaps the rural location had successfully hidden it from other potential buyers, but whatever the case, we made an immediate beeline for it. Unfortunately, my boss had jetted off to Vermont for vacation, so I was stuck in the office until that evening. But after that, we made like thieves in the night, traveling six hours under a moonless sky so we could be there as soon as the dealership opened the following morning. 

The test drive was fine, but things went sideways when I noticed on the window sticker that the Ford dealer had tacked on two additional charges totaling an extra $5,000. The majority of that ($3,500) was for a "Platinum Protection Package" that was non-negotiable and covered things like lifetime oil changes ($5,000 value), paint protection ($500 value) and stolen vehicle assistance ($2,500 value). I argued that living in Mississippi I would never be able to take advantage of the oil changes and they claimed the paint protection didn't apply to the preexisting areas of peeling clear coat. I then pointed out that the $1,500 "Documentation Fee" was also just pure profit for them. Their response was to lop $1000 off the bottom line, but it was still overpriced by almost $4000 so we walked right out the door and never looked back. Advertising one price online but charging another in person is both deceptive and fraudulent, but will continue as long as Florida fails to legally enforce it.

Naturally, we were all pretty despondent after another wasted trip so on the monotonous six-hour trip back home I had a lot of time to think. That's when I had an epiphany of sorts, realizing that I was never going to conquer the problem by repeatedly taking the same approach. The brutal reality was that what has worked for me the past thirty years of buying cars is now no longer effective. In essence, car-buying, much like society in general, has been permanently warped by the pandemic. Low inventory, rising costs from the supply chain shortage and a scarcity mindset means there's no leverage when trying to buy a car in 2021. Dealers know that if one person doesn't buy, another one certainly will and they are preying on that consumer psychosis with criminal-usury prices.         

I realized that Victoria wanted a sporty Pony Car (and I couldn't blame her) but I wasn't keen on the idea of her trying to handle 300hp at 16 years of age. After all, I got my 225hp Mustang GT when I was 22 and I nearly lost control the first time I tried to pass someone in the rain. Likewise, there was also the embarrassing moment in Atlanta when she was handed the keys to the Saturn for the test drive and didn't know what to do. Like a true Millennial, she's only ever used an electronic fob to unlock the doors and a push-button start to drive. 

And while I dearly detest the electronic nannies like Traction Control and Stability Control that Ford has baked into my Fusion, I wholeheartedly want every safety device available to her. That's when I decided to jettison the idea of a dangerous muscle car for an intelligent technology car. Of course, this process had already been helped along by Amanda, who was lobbying Victoria to trade the power for luxury by considering a cushy new Hyundai Elantra instead of a crude, used Camaro.  

I'd looked at so many different cars that I can't even remember how or when I came across the Kia, but it definitely held my attention. Kia initially had a disastrous entry into the U.S. market in the early nineties but even then I was a fan of their first model, the Sephia. Of course, I was under no illusion of how poorly built it was, but I liked it nonetheless. Interestingly, before Kia formally established itself in North America, it provided several vehicles for Ford which were rebadged and sold as the Aspire and Festiva. Despite expanding from 4 dealers in 1992 to over 100 by 1995, it wasn't enough to keep Kia afloat and they filed bankruptcy in 1997. Although Ford owned an interest in Kia since 1986, they were outbid by Hyundai who purchased a 51% stake in the company. Since then, Kia worked hard to expand product offerings and by 2010 had enjoyed 15 consecutive years of increased U.S. market share. And in 2016, their automotive reliability was ranked #1 by J.D. Power, becoming the first non-luxury automaker since 1989 to receive that honor. 

Needless to say, we love our 2015 Hyundai and as Kia's parent company, I knew the models were quite alike and shared a sibling synergy. However, even though they were both redesigned for 2022, I really liked the new Kia Forte over the Hyundai Elantra. And although they do possess similar features, I was a little turned off by the Elantra's obnoxiously-large, cheese grater-style front grille. I showed Victoria a picture of a Kia Forte GT-Line and she really liked it. In fact, it appealed to her so much that she completely dropped the idea of a Pony Car and began bugging me about the Kia.  

But after all the rejections and knowing how crazy the current car market is, I didn't want to get her hopes up.  The GT-Line package interested me because it had all the sporty features and amenities of the top GT model, but retained a naturally aspirated 2.0 four-cylinder instead of the turbocharged engine. This meant a cheaper price, lower insurance premiums, better fuel economy and less likelihood of a speed-related incident. 

The closest GT-Line I found was in Mobile but a day later it was sold, so the next nearest was Tameron Kia in D'Iberville. Amanda and I got up early to be there at opening, but we were similarly informed that it too had been sold. When I pointed out that it still showed as available on the website, our salesman just shrugged his shoulders and explained that it takes a couple days for those listings to drop off. A Kia factory rep was there and he reiterated what I already knew about the shortage, urging me to buy the grey incoming GT-Line to ensure that I got it. I thanked him but simply said that I wasn't buying the car sight unseen. And before we left, I walked around the 2018 Corvette Gran Sport on the showroom floor. It seemed a little incongruous to have a Chevy sports car as the centerpiece in a Kia dealership, but it looked striking nonetheless. 

Feeling frustrated and defeated, I called Dean McCrary Kia in Hattiesburg where the finance manager assured me the white GT-Line advertised on their website was still available. "I'm looking at it right now," he promised. With that, Amanda and I left D'Iberville taking Highway 67 out of the city. It was only the second time I'd ever used that stretch of road, with the first being an eye-widening test drive in a Shelby GT350 during Cruisin' The Coast 2018. 

I'd never seen the Kia dealership in Hattiesburg before so I was a little chagrined to discover that it wasn't in the most economically-thriving area. It was located on Broadway drive and it wasn't anything like the Broadway I visited in Nashville. To put that in perspective, across the street was a "Cash Loans on Car Titles" store and down the block was a nondescript brick building that read "Court Programs Inc." which billed itself as "a progressive leader in offering alternatives to incarceration."

Thanks to the worldwide automobile shortage, the Forte we were seeking wasn't hard to spot as it was one of just 8 new Kias they had on the entire lot. It looked great in-person and the red trimmed grille and bumper were striking. A big, black man approached us and introduced himself as our salesman but I wasn't prepared for his name. I'm confident that had I been given a million guesses I still wouldn't have guessed Kelsey, which I've always considered a woman's name. It also didn't help that Amanda and I had just binge-watched the entire third season of "Tough As Nails" and a tiny, 100-lb female on it was also named Kelsey so that didn't help the gender juxtaposition.

As we walked up to the dealership's front door, I noticed a dark blue 2015 Z06 sulking in the shadows. I jokingly asked Kelsey if it was his but he quickly admitted it belonged to the Sales Manager. Here again, I calculated the odds of visiting two Kia dealerships an hour apart and both having seventh-generation Corvettes. It was, I mused, a little like entering Burger King only to discover that they were  suddenly selling Prime Rib. 

Amanda and I sat down with John, the finance manager, to discuss the Forte (which we loved) as well as the $3995 "Market Adjustment" (that we didn't love). I found it laughable that they just didn't round it up to an even $4K, but I suppose the psychology of selling dictates that fractional discount. 

With the monetary reaming I received, I felt like I was in for a colonoscopy, only minus the anesthesia so I was awake for the whole painful procedure. In short, John cordially but pragmatically explained that the Forte had just rolled off the transporter yesterday, was the only one like it in a two-state radius, and would probably sell that same day or the next day at the latest. Furthermore, he said production was in such short supply that he didn't even know when he might be getting another one. 

Although it would have been nice to dismiss his statements as the typical dealership "Hard Sell", I knew he was right. There was absolutely no pressure to buy it, ostensibly because he knew that if we didn't, someone else would. He also opened my eyes to the fact that his much-maligned "Market Adjustment" wasn't about gouging customers, but with such limited inventory was necessary to keep the dealership open. And with an inventory of just 8 cars in the entire parking lot, I realized he was telling the truth.      

That's when another salesman interrupted and asked if we were buying the car because a young couple were also looking at it. John gave us a few minutes alone to discuss it, and Amanda was clearly weary from the endless trips and daily searches of trying to find the right car. She proposed that we just go ahead and buy it, even though it was quite a bit more than we had planned to pay. 

I stepped out into the showroom and told John we would take it when the Sales Manager overheard me and asked if I wanted to buy the Z06 also? I laughed and told him that with 650hp it sure must be fun to drive. He informed me that he'd had some upgrades which pushed the power to 750+, making it more similar to a ZR1 than a standard Z06. Although he didn't specifically say what had been done, I knew the ZR1's extra 100hp primarily came from a larger supercharger pushing 14 PSI of boost versus the regular Z06's 9 PSI. 

However, making his claims plausible was how ridiculously easy and cheap it is to modify a stock Z06 for huge power. Lingenfelter offers a $1000 kit which includes a smaller pulley and high-flow air filter that yields 720 hp and 730 torque. Surprisingly, that torque figure out-delivers the 715 lb-ft delivered by the ZR1. And considering the ZR1 costs nearly $50,000 more ($97,595 to $141,190) it certainly seems like a bargain!

Unbelievably, he then offered me the key to take it for a test drive and even declined riding along. Aside from the gentleman who let me drive his Testarossa in 1988, this had to be the most unexpected test drive of my life. And even though I was in the middle of buying a new car, I wasn't going to let that opportunity slip away. Most people feel fortunate to get free coffee and doughnuts at a dealership, but this was the the best freebie of all!

The first thing I noticed was the Z06's door handles were hidden and recessed like the ones on my Ferrari, but it was easy enough to slip two fingers in there and open it. I dropped down into the black leather seat and everything looked immediately familiar, albeit updated, from my C5 Corvette. Upon thumbing the push button start, the supercharged LT4 V8 roared to life with such a clamor that I felt a high-performance exhaust was also part of the unspoken modifications. But despite the raucous tone, it was mellow enough not be obnoxious.

As I pulled out of the dealership, I realized I was behind the wheel of a 750hp missile and didn't have a clue where I was. We had used Waze for directions and I was in an area of Hattiesburg I'd never seen before. I desperately wanted to get out to Highway 49 so I could stretch the Z06's legs, but had no idea how to get there so I just started driving. I prodded the Corvette's pedal and it leaped ahead like a cheetah on a leash. 

Compared to the 900hp Hellcat, the Z06 felt lean, agile and—dare I say it—faster? Technically, the Dodge's supercharged 6.2-liter V8 does generate more horsepower, but operating conditions are what makes the big difference. For the Hellcat, extreme Texas heat was blamed for robbing it of roughly 40hp while the vehicle weight with Amanda, Victoria and myself was close to 5,000 lbs. Conversely, Winter Storm Izzy's frigid temps meant the Corvette was enjoying approximately 780hp and I was the sole occupant for a light weight of just 3,700 lbs. Doing the math shows the Z06 benefits from more than a 1 lb-per-horsepower advantage (4.7 vs. 5.8) proving that my highly-calibrated assometer was correct when I sensed the Corvette was indeed quicker. The only thing lacking in the Z06 was the piercing whine of the supercharger that was so prominent in the Hellcat.                  

And although the Z06 boasts a nice big boost gauge reading to ±15 PSI, there's no way to read it when the vehicle is furiously accelerating. I found a deserted side road and performed the point-and-shoot approach, terrorizing Hattiesburg's south-side as I ripped up and down the streets. Despite limited traction, it only took roughly three seconds to hit 60 before I'd have to immediately slow down again. It was here that I realized if a wayward police car spotted me, I also might require "Court Services Inc." for help in avoiding incarceration. 

The brutal acceleration and subsequent fishtailing as the tires struggled to put the power down was addictive, but I knew I needed to get back to pick up our new Kia. The Z06 seamlessly transformed from Superman back to Clark Kent and it was content to slog along in traffic at 25 mph without a hiccup. Of course, the harsh ride I'd condemned in my own Corvette was still present, but I really liked the Heads Up Display (HUD) which projected the speed in miles-per-hour on the windshield. It's great for casual drives, but like the boost gauge, pretty useless under full acceleration when you need to quickly peer as far ahead as possible. 

Regrettably, I never got a chance to use the paddle shifters as I figured it was easiest to let the transmission shift itself. Upon returning, I discovered that like the back seat of a police car, there are no interior door handles on the C7. Fortunately, I spotted a small, power-operated button that released the door, so I was able to continue acting like I knew what I was doing and avoid any embarrassing stories of being locked in a Corvette. They weren't as crude as the pull cords in an F40, but I couldn't help wondering if they would still work with a dead battery?  

I arrived back at Dean McCrary Kia just in time for the paperwork to be signed. Our Forte had only 8 delivery miles on it and was whisked away for detailing and the gas tank to be filled up. John had a new digital app that transferred our signatures and conveniently made it the quickest and easiest way ever to overpay for a car!   

Kelsey presented me with the keys and it was time to settle in for the 80 mile trip home. It being brand new and unfamiliar, I expected to feel a little uneasy but I was immediately comfortable. The size and 2800-lb. weight felt similar to my Ion Red Line, but it was clearly down on power. Even with the CVT's unlimitled gear spread, the 147hp felt anemic although I chalked some of that up to just having driven a car with 600 more horsepower! However, it's the same amount as my first car, a V6 Fiero, and should be plenty for Victoria who's just learning to drive. That said, it's also reassuring to know the top speed is electronically limited to 123 mph.  

Going in, I knew power wasn't going to be the Forte's, um, forte, but I was pleased at how smoothly it rode over Hattiesburg's pock-marked roads. Nevertheless, it was the immense lateral grip on the Hwy 98 cloverleaf  that really surprised me. Boasting 225/45-17 tires that are larger than the ones on my Red Line, it clung on tighter than Trump to a Big Mac. As I dialed in more speed, I expected the tires to howl in protest or breakaway at some point, but neither happened. For an economy-minded Torsion Beam rear suspension and All-Season Kumho Solus rubber, Kia's engineers certainly worked some magic on the suspension. Indeed, Car and Driver's test of a similarly-equipped 2019 Forte yielded an impressive skidpad figure of 0.88g, considerably more than the 0.85 recorded by my Red Line and not far off the numbers of my Corvette and Ferrari. With a stickier compound, I'm sure the Kia could pull 0.90g or more which is astounding given its humble class segment. 

And in a first for me, I was actually thrilled about the alphabet soup of acronyms that constituted all the safety features on the Kia. There's the BCA (Blind Spot Collision Accident Assist) RCCA (Rear Cross-Traffic Collision Avoidance Assist), LKA (Lane Keeping Assist), LFA (Lane Following Assist) DAW (Driver Attention Warning), FCA-Ped (Forward Collision-Avoidance Assist with Pedestrian Detection), SEW (Safe Exit Warning) and NSCC-C (Navigation-Based Smart Cruise Control–Curve). For the VSM (Vehicle Stability Management) it reads like an overbearing Driver's Education teacher who "intervenes when appropriate to further stabilize the vehicle and then helps the driver regain control and return the vehicle to its intended path."  With all this artificial intelligence, I think Stevie Wonder could probably drive a 2022 Forte. 

But despite my questionable attempt at humor, it turns out I wasn't that far off. It all started when I attempted to set the cruise control but noticed that it wouldn't stick to the 70 mph speed limit— it would frustratingly drop down and then speed back up. That's when I noticed that it was only doing it when I would come upon another vehicle and it was the "adaptive" cruise control regulating my speed relative to other vehicles around me.

I proceeded a few more miles down the highway and started noticing some resistance in the steering wheel whenever  I would take a curve. It felt like it was trying to steer itself, so on the next bend I removed my hands and watched in amazement as it completely navigated by itself! It was the most surreal thing I've ever seen in a car, watching the steering wheel move and adjust on its own. I suddenly had flashbacks to 1982 and dreaming of my very own Knight Rider car that would drive itself. Between the cruise control adjusting my speed as necessary and the Forte steering, I was able to really drive "Hands Free." Unfortunately, Bailey Base wasn't available to help me try out other positions with AutoPilot engaged.  

Admittedly, the Z06 is the most powerful car I'd ever experienced, but it didn't hold a candle to the Kia's autonomous driving. However, I discovered that after about sixty seconds, a message would flash on the screen warning me to "Keep hands on steering wheel". If I ignored these instructions, it would angrily start flashing red and then completely disengage everything. I've heard of owner's buying a small weight to attach to the steering wheel to fool the system and I would totally do that if it were my car. But since it's Victoria's, I definitely don't want her to know such things exist or she might be tempted to use it. Regardless, the self-driving feature is the coolest thing ever and would work great on long trips to Disney World. And for people that love The Magic Kingdom like my wife and daughter, the Forte's aptly named Snow White Pearl paint (a $325 option) is the perfect color.

Another innovative feature is the use of SynTex material throughout the car. It's a lab-created covering that looks and feels like leather but is much more resistant to scratches and spills. In short, its the perfect substance for any teenager like Victoria who's hooked on Starbucks and Subway.

Since her iPhone never leaves her body, she loves that it has Apple CarPlay and she can use the app to remote start it and adjust the interior temperature. For that reason, she's also thrilled with the huge 10-inch touchscreen that controls everything. And because her Forte does boast so many electronics, Amanda and I enjoy the peace of mind from the unbeatable standard warranty: 5 years/50,000 bumper-to-bumper and 10 years/100,000 power train. Furthermore, as long as we adhere to the factory maintenance schedule, Dean McCrary warranties the engine and transmission forever. Oh, and with her running the roads like a typical high schooler, the 40 mpg fuel mileage also helps.

I'm sure there are plenty more features I'm forgetting or don't know about, but as I said, it's not my car I'm just paying for it.

My only real gripes are that we paid a $4000 markup and didn't even get floor mats, and that for $30,000 it doesn't even have power seats. Clearly, there's some cost-cutting there but I'm still gobsmacked by the value considering the technology present.       

The Kia certainly isn't what I originally envisioned getting her all those months ago, but it sure seems like it worked out. The look on her face and the tears of joy when we surprised her with it were truly priceless. I can say for certain that neither she nor I will ever forget it!