Track Shun

The Prancing Horse

2011-07-08T00:37:00.000-07:00

As a child I used to play with Matchbox cars about as much as kids nowadays watch Ben 10. I.e, more than is healthy. Each car would have its own garage between the black keys of our beautiful, ancient piano. Probably my favourite would have been the Ferrari, which I now know was a 308 GTB. It was aggressive and confident; masculine yet feminine. It just stood out amongst all my other cars. So much so, in fact, that I've always identified myself as a Ferrari guy, as opposed to Lamborghini people, who grew up with Countach and Diablo posters adorning their bedroom walls.

A friend of mine recently imported a fibreglass-bodied blue Ferrari 308 GTSi Quattrovalvole from England, and due to a road accident, he unfortunately can't drive for a few months. Nick offered me a drive in the Ferrari, which was literally a dream I've wanted to fulfill since I used to wet the bed (a few months back). Naturally, I jumped at the chance.

Most Ferraris are so well designed, so proportionately perfect, that it's hard to get an idea of how big they are in the real world when you see them in print. Their latest Grand Tourers are monstrously huge, but their Enzo-era sports cars are surprisingly small. Pininfarina, and to a lesser extent, Bertone and Zagato, are masters at ensuring that overweight cars look like supermodels, and tiny cars have the desired amount of road presence. So, as I walked around the 308 I was about to drive, I couldn't help think how this Ferrari was the approximate size of my old NB MX-5. A concept I struggle with, even now.

Older Ferraris are known to be difficult to get in and out of, but the 308 wasn't all that hard. In fact, I almost enjoyed the small challenge. It's not as difficult as, say, a Lotus Exige to enter and exit, but it's challenging enough to make you aware that you're not just jumping into any old car. You know you're about to drive a Ferrari.

Turning the key produced nothing except a click and some faded lights on the dash. After spending almost an hour waiting for the Marshall Batteries man to come out and looking over the car to try and find the battery (FYI, it's under the spare wheel), we finally got it started. We enjoyed about 30 seconds before the car used the remaining petrol in the fuel lines. Customs had, of course, drained the tank. After a stint to the petrol station by the kind battery man, I was on my way.

With the car briefly warmed up, the dog-leg gearbox was fantastically stiff and notchy. It was a joy to use the chrome, gated shifter. The pedals are close together and off-centre and there is no dead pedal. This means that heel-toe downshifts come easily, but your left foot cannot relax is and is always at the ready. Another sign, then, that this is not a vehicle to pop down to K-Mart in.

But the engine told another story. In normal traffic, the car was positively placid. It was calm, easy to drive, comfortable. For the trip across town, I wondered whether drivers of the past were just pansies who got hard-ons for anything that looked a bit sexy. Except for the noticeable weight difference and quality interior finish, it didn't feel worlds apart from my 1979 Mitsubishi (Chrysler) LC Lancer fastback.

That was, until, I got to the other side Melbourne and onto the starting grid of a set of traffic lights, revealing an open, five-lane highway. Not wanting to destroy a Ferrari clutch, my launch wasn't particularly aggressive, but it was still surprisingly quick. The car pulled away from the lights with purpose and with a crescendo of metallic, roaring noise. Above 4,000 rpm the V8 mounted behind my left ear really came alive and planted all 240hp (179kw) to the fat Michelin TRX tyres at the rear. Gear changes aren't fast, but I'm sure practice would improve this. Through second and third gears, the Ferrari is wonderfully quick. I can only imagine it being akin to flying an old Spitfire. It's all about feeling connected with the entire car. You sit within it and become a part of it. Sitting so close to the ground just enhances the feeling of speed. It's a beautiful experience for a driving enthusiast.

As the rain set in, there was only one exciting moment when the back-end started to out-pace me through a long corner. The vehicle is so well balanced that it was easy to drive through the drift and correct it smoothly. Considering that the engine is mounted towards the back of the car and I was running on 30 year-old TRX tyres, I was surprised that was the only butt-clenching incident. Happily surprised. The brakes seemed fine, but in that weather I wasn't going to put myself in a position to test their full potential. The (non-powered) steering, though well weighted at speed, is unpredictably heavy and requires a bit of strong-arming when crawling along.

With dark clouds and teeming rain, I was able to get acquainted with the quirky electronics of the Italian sports car. I turned around and headed to my final destination, enjoying the pop-up headlamps (that are now extinct on modern cars) and charismatic window wipers. Yes, even the wipers on older Ferraris have character.

And that's really what this experience has taught me. Emissions laws, safety regulations, and the need for cars to be able to do everything imaginable has meant the driver is so detached from the modern car. People may look at owners of older, unloved Ferraris such as Mondials and 308 GT4s and think that they're badge snobs, but I'll know better. These cars have more charisma and driver interaction than damn-near all sports cars sold in the past decade.

Time to get my Matchbox cars out and start dreaming again.

Special thanks to Nick for the opportunity of a lifetime. Get well soon, mate.

Two Wheels? or Wheelchair?

2011-07-05T03:42:00.000-07:00

Ok Ok.. no need to panic! I am neither born again, nor am i on some form of revivalist tour from the depths of inner city Melbourne proclaiming my desire to be the be all and end all of traffic safety. But hear me out just this one time.

Throughout this whole Japanese tsunami earthquake disaster thingo, some of the slightly unorthodox side effects have been, that my job here in Australia, selling Japanese cars for a living has somewhat slowed. In fact beyond what all seems to be sensible, i was asked to take some annual leave, right in the middle of June! Yep, right before the end of the financial year, i got a two week break. Confused much? me too.

With all this spare time on my hands i fixed the power steering in the 1981 model Toyota Cressida Wagon, built a BMX up from a sketchy bunch of parts i had around the house, and watched an unsavoury amount of Family Guy. Then half way through the first week I picked up the phone and rang up Motorcycle Motion in Moorabbin and booked myself in for my Learners permit.

My Girlfriend rides, so I figure, what better way than to spend a sunny Sunday cruising around on a clusterfuck of fuel, metal and internal cumbustion underneath my holyest of holy's. I mean she has them in a vice grip as it is. Anyway i digress.

I ace'd the test, and went out and bought a bike. A Honda VTR250. I managed to buy a pup of a thing 2nd hand from some bloke who never rode it, 2001 model with 11,000 odd kms. WIN!

I've had years of experience on push bikes, riding in and around traffic, not obeying road rules, and getting from A to B via E,D, and H with no issues, being a general prick of a human, unscathed and without incident. Talk to any rider on a push bike or a motorbike, and you will find they can explain a different type of "Road craft" in comparison to most regular four wheeled folk. Scanning the road in front to the side, pre empting mistakes on the road and judging driver reactions or the complete lack thereof is a natural instinct for two wheeled folk, as it is completely necessary to not just come out on two wheels, but for survival.

Armed with all the gear, and with confidence growing after a few hundred kilometres on the bike, me and the GF decided to go out and practice some skills in an industrial area. So we get on the bikes at night, and head the 20 odd kms from my house to a place i am familiar with and i knew we couldn't cop any grief from... well... the cops.

No less than half a kilometre from the house, my first experience, for the night, of Driver ineptitude surfaces. A driver in a Honda Accord, thinks its OK to tail gate a motorcyclist, not your regular 2 second gap, lets go for 5 meters on my rear wheel. At what stage did you think you could pull your car up in a shorter distance that i can stop the bike. Just dangerous, would you do that to another car?

Then a car pulls out in front of me, One then cut my GF off, then I had to rip out the vice grip front brake stop while I get cut off again riding up Springvale road.

So this brings me to my point, finally. Getting some experience on the bike has made me realise, that a few of the skills as a driver that we most often forget about, or neglect to practice, seem to have vanished, like looking twice before you pull onto a busy road with the potential some dude and his girl are pegging along on bikes at 80kms an hour. Without wanting to throw a sweeping generalisation, over all of Melbourne's drivers, sharpen the fuck up and keep your fucking eyes open. Now as a vulnerable rider, on the roads, how about we as drivers, take the time, and give everyone on the road, just a little more space, chill out, and make sure that everyone on the road around you is doing ok.

And please, just remember, not every motorcyclist has a stunt man... like this guy.

end rant.

2011 Australian International Motor Show

2011-07-05T01:37:00.000-07:00

The 2011 Australian International Motor Show. The impressive-sounding name almost implies that our market is respected by international automobile manufacturers. The unfortunate truth is that we're not. We get the old concept cars that have already done the rounds for the past year, and if we're lucky, we might get a left-hand-drive version of some model we probably won't ever see on our roads. This year was a prime example.

Not only that, but we only get the Motor Show in Melbourne once every two years now, as we alternate with Sydney because of financial concerns the car makers had. I can deal with that, though, as an annual show of the same cars does get a bit tedious.

But when my most anticipated manufacturer, BMW, doesn't bother to bring any cars that are on sale, I get annoyed. Their special eco-hybrid concept car thing, which came out ages ago, is not particularly interesting. I'm not allowed to sit it in, I'm not going to be buying the thing in the next couple of years, so it's really only a study in car design. Yes, it's a nice concept car, but it's not real. And that's what the Motor Show should be about.

We all read the specs in the magazines, look at the pictures, and watch the videos on YouTube. But the Motor Show is where you get to sit in and feel what each car is really like. Of course, it's not quite as good as driving them, but you're able to experience the ergonomics, the seating position, the slickness of the gearshifter, and the quality of the leather and plastics.

The new Range Rover Evoque was impressive, and as it's based on the Freelander2 that I so enjoyed, I imagine will be a cracking drive, too. As cool as it was, with Recaro-esque seats (without the bolstering), leather-trimmed dash, and huge moon-roof, the price-tag is still far too hefty for my liking. The Sport we looked at had two doors and was $127,000. Poor value.

The Mitsubishi Lancer Ralliart was good value when compared to the Evolution that sat next to it (if you made it to the top of the stairs without a sherpa). But drop the extra $10k on a Volkswagen Golf R, with real, thigh-bruising bolstering, blows the idea of the Lancer right out of the water.

Audi's R8 Spyder continues to be one of the most beautiful supercars on sale. The Audi designers should teach the Lamborghini designers what a curve is.

Mercedes-Benz had their new C63 coupe alongside their new CLS63 and SLS. The CLS was the most striking in it's red bodywork with big black wheels and beautifully designed interior. However, the SLS didn't draw on my emotions like the original 300SL Gullwing at the other end of the building. Most people walked past the "new" SLK without realising it was there. Mercedes-Benz will have a hard time against the Z4.

Despite not having many models for sale in Australia, Skoda put on a good show, even allowing people to sit in their (real!) rally car, which was nice. They continue to surge forward in Australia with ever-growing confidence.

Holden and Ford continue to copy everyone else as well as themselves (both releasing Black Editions, really?). At least FPV is learning that the subtler, the better.

There were a number of things I took with me after I'd left the Show this year. The first was that I was utterly disappointed that there was no BMW stand. No M3 Pure, no 1M, no M5. The second was the feel of the Mercedes-Benz G-Class, which, in my mind, won the award for best supporting actor. I loved how agricultural and secure the doors felt and how they didn't feel like doors on any other car at the show. My final thought was how I still yearn for a Maserati Quattroporte GTS. They are one of the most magnificently looking and sounding cars in the modern era.

Traning Wheels, Postscript

2011-06-23T00:31:00.000-07:00

A few years back I wrote two articles that looked at driver training for young people. Training Wheels, Part One and Part Two expressed my frustration at how young people are told not to speed and be idiots on the road, but are rarely exposed to the consequences. Unless they are forced to live through a horrific event, they don't realise just how easy it is to ruin or end a life by way of a car.

At the time, I said that it would be beneficial to expose kids to a crash. Strap them into a car and roll it, or even crash a car into a pole at 50kph in front of them. It sounds a bit far fetched, but it wouldn't be quite as hard to do as you would imagine.

So I was very heartened to see the NSW Premier leading an in-your-face demonstration for schools. As the video of the event shows, it was a very confrontational experience for the students, who had to graphically witness the death and trauma caused by a common road accident.

VIDEO: Crash course

Bravo to the NSW Government for supporting this initiative.

Practically A Porsche

2011-02-15T16:45:00.000-08:00

When the Cayenne was released almost a decade ago it was somewhat controversial. The car was pretty ugly, it felt poorly designed, and it didn’t drive the way one would expect a Porsche to drive, SUV or not. We were expecting something better than the benchmark SUV at the time, the BMW X5, and it just wasn’t.

The second generation, all-new Cayenne is a different beast altogether. It seems to have shaken all previous criticisms and evolved into something worth pining for. Sitting in the supportive leather seat, the interior feels like it was based on Porsche’s four-door GT, the Panamera, which is no bad thing. The leather, plastics, and metal highlights really heighten the sense of luxury in the cabin. The buttons have an excellent feel to them, and none of the interior panels have that cheap hollowness to them that plagues cheaper (and not-so-cheaper) SUVs.

Porsche’s engineers really lifted their game with the new Cayenne. For sure, it’s nowhere near as rewarding to drive as its stable-mates, but as far as the luxury SUV sector goes, this is up there with the best of them. It’s a very easy car to drive on a daily basis and at no time do you feel as if you’re behind the wheel of the two-tonne tank that it is. There’s an overwhelming sense of weight and security behind this thing, but not at the expense of its handling or its pace. The Cayenne holds flat around corners and is beautifully neutral in feeling.

But it’s the engine that really impresses. The turbo diesel V6 strikes an almost perfect balance between power (176kw), torque (550nm), and fuel economy (7.4L/100 combined). The exhaust note isn’t as horny as the V8 option, but it means the car feels calmer to drive. That endless torque constantly invites your foot to sink into the pedal to propel the Cayenne down the road, in the same absurd fashion as the Range Rover Sport TDV6 or BMW X5 xDrive40d. It’s a very enjoyable machine to captain. Pulling up at the lights will trigger the auto stop/start feature which will turn off the engine to save fuel until you lift the brake, when the engine fires to life in an instant.

This particular Porsche also enjoyed keyless entry and start, which means that simply having the key in your pocket is good enough to jump in and drive off. The auto-tailgate was appreciated when carrying a few too many bags of groceries, and I’m sure the soccer mums with babes-in-arms will love it too. Handy features that make living with the Cayenne very easy. It doesn’t have the most luggage space in its market, but it has more than enough to satisfy most families. The ride height, coupled with its big doors, makes the Cayenne effortless to enter and exit.

If you’re looking at a practical, well-built SUV, it’s very hard to look past Porsche’s latest Cayenne diesel. It’s not going to break any land-speed records, but with a truckload of torque and CO2 figures that are better than a four-cylinder Mazda6, along with practical, real-world features and an excellent design, it’s very hard to ask for anything more in a luxury SUV.

Short Queue

2010-03-29T05:55:00.000-07:00

The first thing you notice when you approach the new Audi Q5 is it has beautiful, clean lines. Arguably, the design is so minimal it almost borders on bland. But if you consider this vehicle is targeting the hip-but-conservative-lycra-wearing-Polo-collar-popping family man, Audi seem to be on the money when it comes to styling. In any case, I like how it looks.

To propel this compact SUV there’s a choice of 2.0 litre turbo or 3.2 litre V6 petrol engines and a 2.0 litre turbo-diesel, but the one we have today is the 3.0 litre turbo-diesel. With 176kw of power and 500nm of torque mated to a seven-speed dual-clutch transmission, it’s no slouch, and propels the 1865kg of Audi to 100kph in 6.5 seconds. On a long freeway trip the Q5 returned 7.9 litres per 100 kilometres. So what we have here is a respectably quick car that is also pretty frugal. Good thing, too, because at $72,600 without options or on-road costs it’s not exactly the bargain of the century.

In the cabin the dash is very conservative and fits with Audi’s current interior theme – very functional, very German, very quality. The thick, perforated leather steering wheel was nice to use and had the S-Tronic paddles at three and nine, ready to punch up or down through the gears at a moments notice. With decent sound quality and punch, the infotainment system can be somewhat counter-intuitive to use at times, but it’s the sound deadening that is most impressive in the cabin. Close the (noticeably short) door and you’re enveloped in a silent cacoon of leather and quality plastics and a strange tactile faux woodgrain trim.

The best thing about the Audi Q5 is that it is just as comfortable to jump in and scoot around town as it is on the freeway. It’s an easy car to live with; and that is a hard thing to get right.

But how does the latest from Audi actually perform on the tarmac? Up to this point the Audi Q5 has proven fairly conservative and minimal, however I wasn’t expecting that trend to continue out on the road. Despite having a fair whack of performance at its disposal, the engine seemed a bit constrained and not as responsive as it could be. Though the dual-clutch gearbox is as good as ever and makes the most of what the engine has to give.

Around corners and the Audi stays relatively flat, but push it even a little bit and you’ll get boring, predictable understeer. Yes, this car is very safe and very easy to drive, but it lacks any sort of excitement whatsoever. The steering is so unresponsive it could almost be described as being numb. It has the feedback of a hovercraft. I’m sure some people would like it (boring people), but as someone who enjoys driving, I was completely uninspired when I had arrived at my destination.

But my biggest criticism of the Audi Q5 is that it has almost no character. It is a beautifully engineered compact SUV that bores me half to sleep. It will carry out everything you ask of it with absolutely no eagerness at all. It didn’t move me (figuratively), and I really wanted it to.

Its natural competitor is the older BMW X3, but when you consider that you could buy the brilliant Land Rover Freelander 2 (which feels like a small Range Rover to drive) for a lot less money, it becomes very hard to justify the Q5. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t hate this car – it’s actually a very good car. In fact, I really wanted to love the Audi, but it’s hard to love something with no character. And the Q5 has none.

Top Gear Live - I've Crapped better Entertainment

2010-02-22T21:18:00.000-08:00

So, you want to see Top Gear Live? You love the show Top Gear? You're really excited to see them come to your Country?! Yeah? YEAH?

Well so was I. Until I sat through 90 minutes of pure, expensive, CRAP.

I couldn't believe it. Set the scene:

Acer Arena, overcast, rainy, stormy night. This was my prized Christmas present, platinum seating and a nice hotel. I had travelled up from Melbourne and decided to make a weekend of it. After all, Top Gear is quite possibly the best show on earth. Clarkson speaks truth, and isn't afraid to say what everyone is thinking, surely you can't go wrong I thought!

The demographic so far was to be expected, lots of wife beater singlets, VB stubbies and Holden drivers. The entrance gates were busy, people bustling through like herded cattle, as the thunder crackled and the winds gathered momentum. Out the front were cars on display, predominantly Australian classics. Bathurst cars, new and old. Some supercars, tantalising your average punter of the events to come. Burnouts, time attacks and clever wit I though, I can't wait. We go up the escalators and head to our seating, I purchase an "Official Top Gear Programme" for $20. That was a mistake, however I was willing to let it go, why let a horrible collage of old photos ruin what is surely going to be an awesome night I thought.

We take our seats, one flight up but with a pretty good view.
We wait for the show to come to life, whilst watching snippets of Season 14, which has sadly gone to Channel 9. (For the record, season 14 is EPIC and I would encourage everyone to watch it.. especially the Jungle episode).

The lights dim, and everything goes quiet, "here we go!" I said to my partner. Out came two WRX's, and some flame girl. Not a bad opening, although all I could think was that they should of used evo 9's, atleast they have front and rear LSD's. After some arse-dragging, some mediocre fire stunts and the boxer burble, Clarkson and May ventured onto the performance area. After they both rattled off their first monologue, I instantly regretted coming all this way. I was expecting a script, BUT REALLY? it was horrible. Some horrible jokes, some ford and holden banter, flattering our local industry car makers, the bottom line being "all aspects but the engines are shit".. lucky for Clarkson & Crew, the majority of the crowd probably can't read through the lines. Lots of "woo's and fuck yeah's!" came from the crowd! yay! I drive a VN! FUCK YEAH ITS A SUPERCAR MOTHERFUCKERS YOU AINT GOT SHIT ON MY POD FILTER AND CAT BACK"

I facepalmed. The introduction of the "Stunt team" came out, in none other than a car that DOESN'T EVEN GET SOLD IN AUSTRALIA, a Ford Focus RS. After 5 minutes of handbrake turns and... more handbrake turns, the hosts came back out. It went on like this for 90 minutes. Oh, some random V8 supercar driver co-hosted, Greg Murphy. Seriously? Fuck. Off. I don't care if you'd rather a VE with dropped pipes over a supercar. Go away. You don't mesh with the hosts, and your poorly scripted jokes and piss-taking sucked.

The Supercar Segment: First off the block was an R8 V10, phenomenal car. What did they do with it? Nothing. It sat there. So did all the supercars. WHAT THE FUCK DID I PAY $150/ticket FOR?! Apparently for something I could of walked a couple of hundred yards to a showroom to see.

The lesson learnt here, is that money talks. 15,000 people @ minimum $100 a head is good money. But I will never pay it again, because it sucked the life out of me and induced a rage similar to that of an American Postal worker.. If you want entertainment for cars, go to a springnats/nationals of your favourite car.

Fuck you Top Gear Live, FUCK YOU.

*Pictures courtesy of e30philiac @ ECCA

A Black Heart

2009-12-06T21:40:00.000-08:00

The car danced to the left and to the right as the transmission punched through the gears and the wheels scrambled for grip. Leaving pit lane, its monstrous throaty howl invaded the cabin. As it was a hot day, I dropped my side of the dual climate control down to a comfortable 20 degrees. We passed the braking marker and I was forced into the seatbelt before we pitched into the first corner at Sandown.

Generally, I hate being a passenger. I’m not very good at it. But on this occasion, I was more than happy to ride shotgun.

You see, the Mercedes-Benz CLK63 AMG Black Series is a very special car.

Since its release, this car has been at the top of my wish list. It has been one of my ultimate dream cars. And as much as I love and appreciate exotics, rarely do I covet any of them. But rarely do any of them stir the emotions like the Black.

Most get the mix wrong – too racey and harsh (Ferrari F430), or too luxurious and fat (Bentley Continental GT). Not the CLK63 Black Series. No, in this case, the recipe is perfect. This car is a combination of everything you could want in an enthusiast’s daily transport. Except for back seats.

With that massive engine propelling us out of the second corner, I was reminded of the CLS63 AMG I drove one year earlier at that same track. As with most AMGs, it was an executive’s car with a big powerplant dropped between the strut towers. At the time I wrote that the CLS pretended to know what it was doing around corners. The Black, however, knew exactly what it was doing at every point on the track. Its balance and poise is the stuff of legends.

This particular CLK63 Black was one of only 32 imported to Australia by Mercedes-Benz, and had exclusively enjoyed a diet of ELF racing fuel at $6 per litre.

The 6.2 litre V8 produces 373kw and 630nm of torque at 5250rpm and is mated to a lead-and-granite limited-slip differential. In the old language, we’re playing with a touch over 500hp – a healthy figure by anyone’s standards. But as emotive and addictive as this engine is, it is only one part of the package.

What impressed me most about this car was how it held the fine line between being a forgiving, predictable handler, and an exciting, raw supercar. Even whilst we were doing some rallying on the grass at the end of the back straight, the Black never felt dangerous or like it would bite back when pushed too hard. But we were sharing track time with Ferraris, Lamborghinis, and a host of other desirable supercars, and this comfortable Mercedes was holding its own. In many instances, it was even fighting back.

The only unimpressive thing about the entire car – and I mean the only thing – was the velour trim on the lightweight, body-hugging, fixed racing bucket seats. It really felt as if they should have gone for a suede material to keep with the carbon fibre and brushed aluminium theme. Velour trim is suitable for a Volvo 240, not a $300k Mercedes.

Hitting somewhere in the region of 240kph at the end of the back straight, the carbon-ceramic brakes dissolved the car’s speed with absolute composure. Into each corner the Black remained as flat as polished marble. Only after a number of laps in the heat of the day (and at the car’s limit) did the transmission start to overheat. Rather than putting itself at risk, the seven-speed auto simply went into comfort mode and refused to let itself be abused.

The thing about this car is that, save for the seats and lashings of carbon fibre, the interior feels just like a standard CLK. The stereo can hook up to your iPhone and there’s even an analogue clock sitting next to the speedo. It’s as if this car was designed by someone who loves nothing more than to escape to the country for the weekend. For a car that isn’t technically a GT, it is the most wonderfully competent GT I’ve ever experienced.

As with many things in life, the idea of something is often better than the reality. The CLK63 AMG Black Series looks incredible on paper, but is actually better in real life. It has the speed, the handling, comfort, and charisma in buckets. With those flared arches and that engine, it looks and sounds magnificent, too. The Black is one of those rare supercars that actually lives up to the dream.

Idling along in the pit lane, passing parked F430s, 911s, Gallardos, and even one Murcielago SV, I couldn’t help think how, having the choice, I would still go home in the Black. It’s automotive perfection.

Power Trip

2009-11-15T22:17:00.000-08:00

It’s starting to get a little crazy. Don’t misunderstand me, I love having thunderous amounts of power at my disposal, but I suspect everyone is just starting to lose sight of what it’s all about.

If you’ve been reading Track Shun from the beginning you may have noticed a recurring theme. You’ll have noticed that we tend to write about BMWs, MX5s, and Corollas instead of Porsches, Ferraris, and Lamborghinis. The reason for this is that these relatively modest vehicles have made an impact on us as drivers in The Real World. These cars don’t have power in common, but handling.

Now, we love exotics. There should be no doubting this. The problem is that the vast majority of automotive sites talk about nothing other than exotics or family cars. It’s either completely impractical dream cars, or purely practical transportation. There is a middle ground, however.

I have a theory: For your normal daily car that ferries you to work in the morning and to Coles at night, you shouldn’t need more than 133kw per tonne. This is a decent amount of power by anyone’s standards, but not so over the top that components will start snapping every full moon. And I’d wager that anyone who disagrees with me on this point has either never driven a car with that much power, or they’ve got a serious addiction to street racing.

The problem, as I see it, is that the vast majority of so called ‘performance cars’ on sale focus primarily on engine power. Very few manufacturers spend time trying to make their performance cars better handlers. And even less aim for that elusive fun factor. A cocktail of engineering perfection that those-in-the-know are always searching for.

And you almost never hear about it in today’s automotive journalism, which is a shame.

Volkswagen’s first few incarnations of the Golf GTi were heralded as the most fun you could have on four wheels when they were released. And they have less power than you’ll find in a modern headlight. Yet, if you own an early GTi, you’re probably more of a driving enthusiast than someone who owns a Supra.

If most people were to drive an Alfa Romeo 147 or a Hyundai i30 whilst wearing a blind fold*, then (had they survived driving with a blind fold on) I’d wager that a very high percentage would buy one of these models over and above most other cars currently on sale. With the exception of the Ferrari-esque 147 GTA, neither of these vehicles are considered performance cars. But they are brilliantly fun and addictive to drive, none-the-less.

There has been far too much emphasis placed on who makes more power these days. Power doesn’t necessarily equal fun. In fact, what we’re seeing time and time again is that it’s the cars that give a raw driving experience that eventually turn into cult cars. Take, for example, the aforementioned Volkswagen Golf GTi, the Suzuki Swift GTi, the first few Subaru Impreza WRXs, the BMW E30 318iS, the Toyota Corolla TwinCams, the Mazda NA MX5 – what these cars have in common isn’t power, but handling. And more importantly, fun.

I’d like to see more manufacturers focusing on fun. I’d like to see a GT3-style FPV – turbocharged straight six with a lightened flywheel, stripped-out carbon-fibre interior, roll cage, and sway bars the size of my thighs. I’d like to see a Sports model that has more (or less) than just lip spoilers and decals. I want more cars like the R56 Mini Cooper S that telepathically cry out to you from your driveway, begging you to take it for another drive through the round-abouts before bed.

Power is a tool used to beat people in competition. Fun isn’t bound by speed limits, but can be used on the road every single day. Don’t lose sight of what it’s about.

*Don’t do this.

At One

2009-10-02T01:36:00.000-07:00

Years ago I heard someone say that what made Michael Schumacher such a brilliant driver was his ability to understand and compensate for tyre-slip in any circumstance. Tyre-slip refers to the way a tyre slides very slightly before it actually grips; and it’s hard to predict due to the high number of variables involved. You’ve probably experienced its louder, more obvious brother: understeer. Schumacher was able to dial-in the correct amount of steering input, braking, and acceleration to get the most out of the car without over-cooking it. The car became an extension of his body.

There’s no doubt that this is the sensation true drivers experience when they find their perfect ‘fit’ – that car that connects with them and becomes a part of their body.

Some people, such as Michael Schumacher, have an inherent talent that lies in their ability to somehow know how the car will feel and react in a multitude of different circumstances.

But it can be somewhat learned. I think most people don’t understand the appeal of spirited driving because they haven’t experienced the sensation of being at one with a car. And at the risk of endearing myself to crazy people, I have to say that it’s the same with guns. In controlled, safe environments, it can be tremendous fun honing your skills with a mechanical instrument that acts as an extension of your body.

Recently there was an article in New Scientist about how the brain sees tools, such as toothbrushes and mechanical grabbers, as extensions of the body (27/6, p17). Researchers stated that this was “the first evidence that tool use alters the body schema (map).” I couldn’t help but think that none of these researchers had ever driven a stripped-out Golf GTi around Silverstone.

Genuine driving enthusiasts and racing drivers have known of this hypothesis for years. They know the feeling of being at one with the car. They understand that often when they’re driving, they’ll make an input or correction that they’re completely unaware of. Their brain is already compensating for how the vehicle responds before they have any conscious awareness of what is happening.

A month back I was driving a mate home from seeing a band in the middle of nowhere. On a slippery road (a private road, of course…) away from other cars and residents, I coerced the car into a relatively low speed slide at a 90-degree corner. Afterwards Hagger pointed out to me that I had started pulling the wheel back to centre even whilst the car was mid-swing. Now, I’m no Schumacher, but since I was a young teenager I’ve been pushing cars into drifts (or power slides as JC calls them). So although I didn’t recall exactly what I had done to ensure that brief moment of fun ended safely, I trusted my experience enough to attempt it in the first place.

In the very, very distant future, when the time comes for me to become a father, my kids are going to be strapped into a car and forced to compete in motorkhanas – whether they want to or not. From an early age I want my children to understand the relationship between driver and car. I want them to know that just because you want the car to stop, it doesn’t mean it always will. How, as BKS wrote recently, cars react in dramatically different ways depending on the conditions. And as much as I want them to sharpen their reactions behind the wheel, I also want them to enjoy the experience of using a car as an extension of themselves, just as much as I do.

Life Versus Logic

2009-09-06T18:40:00.000-07:00

Life, for most of us anyway, is made up almost entirely of compromise. Generally they’re decisions like trying to find the most attractive but least insane woman we can handle or searching for the biggest but least financially crippling house in a nice suburb. Risk versus reward, and all that. The ability to find the right compromise is probably one of the most valuable keys of life. To know when to continue your education, when to quit your job, or even just when to stop drinking and head home is a considerable skill, if you can call it that.

Enjoying life and the rare instances when it affords you fun, laughter, and happiness is something that I am also acutely aware of. There is far too much doom and gloom in the world. So if a mate calls me on a Sunday morning and invites me down to the beach to play in the sun and share some beers, there are few things better that I can think of. In recent years I’ve come to realise that I am a product of my environment: the seasons affect me as do my place of residence and, of course, my car.

Recently I made the tough decision to put my daily driver up for sale. Granted, she’s not the most exciting car to drive and by no means has she been the fastest vehicle that I’ve owned. But she has been a wonderful cruiser that eats up long country miles like a vacuum cleaner. There were many reasons that, combined, made her sale the most logical thing to do. It’s a risk versus reward thing. There isn’t much more fun I can get out of this car that I haven’t already experienced. And the only things I can really look forward to are higher kilometres and having to do a head gasket on a BMW V8.

The decision was also motivated by the seasons. Having had both NA and NB MX-5s as company cars in years past, I have very fond memories of spring getaways to the country, summer esplanade cruising, and peeling skin in autumn. But always, those convertibles gave me an enjoyment that few tin-tops have replicated. In the years since the little Mazdas I’ve mainly owned German saloons, which I have loved dearly. Now, though, I find myself winding down all the windows and opening up the sunroof in the vain attempt to replicate the same feeling that a convertible gives me when driving under an open blue sky.

So in my daily visit to eBay and carsales.com.au, I’ve started searching for a little rag-top for myself.

It’s surprising that a 270,000 kilometre 1.6 litre two-seater made by Mazda in 1989 is still asking almost $10k; and equally unsurprising if you’ve ever been inside the skin of that timeless design and taken its sweet chassis to the limit on a coastal road with the top down. It is a brilliantly addictive car. Personally, I prefer the NB – despite the power steering being less responsive, it makes it far easier to scramble the steering wheel to opposite lock when you’re in the mood for some fun. The 1.8 litre engine is also far less harsh, more usable in traffic, and faster. The exterior is still quite fresh, and the interior is a really nice place to be if you’re under six foot. Good examples are barely over $10k which make them a very smart buy.

But they’re impractical. NA and NB MX-5s have almost no storage space. And as someone that often finds himself transporting boxes around, this is no good to me. Most times I could probably get away with using the front seat, but then what happens if I have someone sitting there? What I need is a convertible with a bit of storage space. And seeing as an E46 330CiC is still a touch out of my budget, it’s the Peugeot 306 cabriolet that has caught my attention.

I love French things. They have the most beautiful language, food, accents, wine, towns, style, and women. Their cars, however, have always left me wanting. They are renowned for their sharp chassis yet whacky idiosyncrasies. But I never really imagined myself owning one. The 306 cab makes sense, though. Four seats, most with leather, an electric soft top, and by all accounts it is meant to have quite enjoyable handling. I say ‘by all accounts’ because I have yet to drive one.

It’s a compromise for me. As much as I love the twin-cam Corollas and the Volvo S40 T5 (floating centre console model), the only front wheel drive I’ve ever truly pined over is the R56 Mini Cooper S (with the turbo donk). So the prospect of owning a naturally aspirated four-pot front wheel drive French car wasn’t really something that I had ever considered.

But as I get older, I realise that if I want a car without a roof, I’m going to have to have to compromise. It might be that I get a Jap roadster with no space, or it might be that I buy a French front-drive cabriolet. It’s a risk versus reward thing, you see.

Topless Tales

2009-07-07T01:50:00.000-07:00

The E92 335i really didn't whet my whistle. When the first pictures of the E92 were released, I didn't pine over it like I had with the E46. And out of the M3 and Audi S5, BMW would have a hard time to win me over from the lines of Audi's coupe.

The 335i has a brilliant engine, and is a hugely capable car that inspires confidence in anyone who steps behind the wheel. There's nothing mind-blowing about it though, it just does everything as perfectly boring as you'd expect from Germany. Boring is probably the wrong word, but with it's acceleration matching that of an E46 M3, I was expecting something else.

And I found it in the 135i. When I drove it at its release, it became my new favourite car. Well, more accurately, my new favourite daily-driver. If I had one of these to take to work every morning, I would consider moving further away. (For the record, I would still take an E46 M3 for the weekend.)

The 135i is just so nimble, so easy to dip into a corner, so easy to sink the right foot in and let the power improve on your already massive grin. Dropping that engine into the 1 Series is the difference between Clark Kent putting his red togs on and stashing his glasses.

And the convertible somehow makes sense in the 135i. And it’s practical, with seating for three others. Even in the wet with the top up the convertible didn’t concern me in the slightest. I just prayed for five minutes of sun to get a chance to lower the roof.

BMW are marketing their new baby-vert to me, and it's sure as hell working. More than any marketing though, it's the car that is closing the sale. It's just brilliant.

Which brings me to the BMW E89 Z4. This is a car that is placed directly in the sights of middle-aged men the world over. A competitor to the SLK of Mercedes-Benz, the Z4 sDrive35i feels, from a driving perspective anyway, very similar to the E92 335i; albeit slightly more nimble, and with an enclosing cabin that harks back to the original roadsters of the mid-20th century.

With the SLK350, it feels like a big-boy’s toy. Very easy to drive around town, but all in all just a nice little sports car for people who don’t care terribly about driving dynamics. I was a little disappointed with the interior plastics and overall design, but I’m sure it would appeal to some.

A stark contrast to the interior of the much younger Z4. The quality of this interior is the best of any car I’ve ever been in. The perfect mixture of leather-stitching, wood-grain, and aluminium. I can’t imagine anyone experiencing buyer’s remorse when sitting in the cabin of this car.

Then there’s the engine. Surprisingly inaudible with the top down, that 3.0 litre twin-turbo had me turning around and going back through the tunnel just to hear that exhaust brap as the DCT swapped cogs. Just as with the 135i and 335i, this engine is a delight in normal driving circumstances. Turbo lag has almost been eliminated, but not completely. I know it’s not meant to be an M-car, but sometimes when I mash the loud pedal, I want that neck-snapping experience you would get with the old M3 3.2 litre. I am nitpicking, though.

But my most favourite thing about the Z4 was the cruise control. It’s such a revolutionary, intuitive design, my mind boggles as to why no-one has thought to make a cruise control like this in the past 20 years.

Push forward on the stalk and it will lock whatever speed you are currently doing. A little green light on the outside of the speedo (where the speed currently is) shows it has been engaged. Push it forward again, however, and it will bring your speed up to the nearest whole number. For example, if you were doing 76kph, pushing forward twice would bring you to 80kph. Push it again, and it will take you up to 90kph. Pull it back and you’re back doing 80kph.

Finally, a cure to the Monash Freeway road works migraine.

Through a twisty coastal road, the Z4 is a bit of fun. With the hard-top in place, the car feels like a very similar place to the old E85 Z4 Coupe. Well balanced as a coupe, when turned into a roadster, the weight of the E89 Z4 shifts noticeably to the rear of the car. Some would argue that this enhances the old-school roadster experience.

But even with a beautifully sunny day and the hard-top tucked away, I couldn’t really appreciate the sensation of being in a convertible. Because you are so encapsulated within the car, it doesn’t really feel like you’re outside. As a lover of convertibles, it was a little disappointing.

If you feel like you want to turn up the adrenalin in the zed, you can put the DCT into manual mode and turn the suspension setting from Normal to Sport or Sport Plus. As well as sharpening throttle and steering, the latter actually disengages the stability & traction control, making the car a bit skittish – and with it, more fun.

The DCT is a good gearbox. Somehow not as fun as Volkswagen’s DSG, though. And I know it’s been said before, but the paddle system is so counter-intuitive it really discourages any spirited manual driving. Thankfully the gear shifter can still be used. If it were my money, I would opt for the manual gearbox. Slower, maybe, but surely more fun.

Whereas the 135i feels like an MX-5 that has been plugged into a Marshall stack and turned up to maximum volume, the Z4 feels like it was designed for people who think they are a lover of roadsters, but have never actually been in one.

Don’t get me wrong, the new Z4 is a great car. The level of engineering is unbelievably good. The fit and finish is impeccable. But somehow it suffers from the same problem (and I use the word loosely) as the 335i. It’s a quick car that doesn’t really inspire as the old roadsters used to. It's BMW's 135i that really paints a stupid grin on your face, and as such remains my favourite of the current convertibles on sale.

Many thanks to Nick, Russell, and Chris, along with the rest of the team at Mornington BMW for their wonderful help and hospitality at the launch of the Z4. Please visit www.morningtonbmw.com.au to book your test drive.

Leather, Price, And All Things Nice.

2009-06-13T05:10:00.000-07:00

As I was cursing the peak-hour traffic I was so unfortunately stuck in the other day, my eye was drawn to a BMW E87 116i, glistening black in the afternoon winter sun. And it got me thinking: what defines a luxury car?

While I pondered this question, I realised that it’s far harder to demarcate than I had originally assumed.

There are cars we automatically pigeon-hole as being from a luxury automaker, and those that we assume are simply transport. In the past, it was easy. Luxury meant leather and technology. Today, both are easily accessible, available from even the entry-level Korean offerings.

Take, for example, the Hyundai i30cw. This is a small-to-mid-sized wagon that comes with leather, an optional diesel engine, along with a host of other features, all together in a well-built package that is actually a lot of fun to drive. Combined with an unparalleled warranty, and here you have what is undeniably a great car. But despite being a better vehicle than BMWs 116i, it’s not a luxury car. And the BMW is.

Forgetting the physical experience of luxury, the rest of it is defined by marketing and public relations. How you feel about Apple or Virgin or Lexus is sculpted by their PR departments over many, many years. The fact that Americans see the Infinity G37 as a luxury coupe, rather than a humble Nissan Skyline, is because of modified perception.

In Australia, Lexus is the perfect example. Perpetuated as the thinking man’s crumpet, Toyota has positioned the L badge as a genuine competitor to the Europeans. We all know that the ES300 was a Camry in a tuxedo, but to golfing grandfathers everywhere it’s a luxury sedan without the ostentatious statement of a German saloon.

Without the high quality of their engineering and craftsmanship, I suspect Lexus would have failed as a brand. They don’t have the history to back themselves up and I think only now are they starting to forge their own character.

At a recent design forum by BMW, artist Thomas Demand said that nowadays luxury is more inwardly focussed, rather than outwardly expressed. Modesty was the overriding message. This makes me think of the rise in popularity of apartments converted from warehouses all over the world as an example.

Even without being able to clearly define it, we all know what luxury is. We know it when we are immersed in it, and we know when it’s being faked. It is not just the material, but the quality of the material being used. The fit and finish of our surroundings. The character; the modesty; the heritage. And, of course, the price.

Know your limits.

2009-06-08T20:07:00.000-07:00

No this is not an anti drink driving campaign puff piece, I've got a far better horror story for that 'drive safe' message. I just want people to know that while some of us out there can actually drive their cars in all conditions, that there are some people who clearly do not fall into this category.

This past weekend here in Melbourne I organised the annual Toyota Owners Club of Australia (TOCAU) national meet. For the most part we were blessed with no rain and an amazing smattering of gorgeous Toyota’s from all eras.

The last day of the annual meet we took off for the hills, and while the conditions weren’t torrential, the roads were definitely wet, greasy and downright hazardous.

With a cruise population of about 25 cars, I thought the need to separate into two groups. Group A, consisting of a bunch of likeminded revheads, with experience and the capability to drive their cars to the best of their ability in all circumstances, and Group B, made up with a few of us who really just wanted to enjoy the day without mishap or angst. My first mistake was that I did not know at least 60% of the drivers, so I let them chose the group they thought would suit them the best.

Me being the organiser of the cruise, nominated a position toward the back to make sure no-one fell off the tail and got lost through the ‘twisties’ heading to Noojee.
So in no control of the ‘experienced’ drivers up the front, I trundled through the forest at a pleasant pace with my partner beside me, blipping the throttle into second just to keep things entertaining for me, touching apex’s, explaining understeer in theory and practically. Rounded a corner and saw hazard lights.
Someone’s pride and joy, a brand new ZRE152 Corolla Ascent had nosed into the rock wall in the side of the mountain.

10 blokes grabbed pillars, panels, and pulled the car out of the ditch and parked it. The driver shaken and obviously very embarrassed left the cruise from there and went home to explain to the family what had happened. Now why this stock as rock Ascent, with no Stability control, and clearly a driver with little skill was driving toward the front of Group A, still baffles me. This was his first time on a cruise with us, and most likely the last.

Hoping this would be the last mishap en route, and enough to be a reality check for everyone else on the road in the group, to take it easy, and just drive within your limits, an hour later in the stretch from Warragul to Korumburra, we round a bend and there’s more hazards, and a few members picking up pieces of body work from the sides of the road. A side skirt here, a wheel well splash guard there, things started looking a little scary. Then we saw the car. A tasty Black Corolla Sportivo.

I know this car, I know this driver, what happened?? It doesn’t matter. Clearly the driver had lost control, and kissed the wall. Kissed is an understatement, more like, the ‘wall’ dressed in black leather and studs, carrying a mace, jumped out from behind the trees, and raped his car from A pillar to posterior.

I would normally never doubt his driving ability, or that he doesn’t know his cars limits, but the incident over the weekend makes me think again about letting my girlfriend ride shotgun in his car.

People just need to tone things down when it’s wet. For one, its slippery as shit, but second, in the wet, there are no second chances. Once you’ve lost it, bringing it back is in the too hard basket for a lot of people. Being FWD, the temptation to get off the gas mid oversteer is hard to fight, but once your instincts have fooled you, there’s no coming back, you’re gone.

Bent panels are easily replaced and beaten back into shape, but broken bodies and damaged pride takes a while to heal, and while no-one was injured, I certainly have a new perspective on the mentioned drivers skill level, or ability to hold back. Now I love the guy dearly, but I don’t trust his driving anymore. Sorry mate.

So while many people harp on and on about how good their car’s setup is, or how quick they go around a track, or how much money they spent on upgrading suspension, or buying the best quality modifications, it all means donuts when you can’t drive within your limits. The cars limits are one thing, and knowing those limits is another. But readjusting your style, and stance, and attitude and ego is so important.

Make sure you check your ego as soon as you flip your wipers on. That’s your signal to brake early, 50% throttle out of corners, to make sure the person behind you is comfortable with what you’re doing and most of all, keep your car straight and safe for yourself, and everyone else around you!

So what have I learned from all this? Don’t trust anyone on the road, in the wet.
Be prepared yourself. Know your car. if you dont, then get your car on a skid pan, and drift the tyres off of it until you know exactly what’s going to happen when you lose control.

Finally, here's a great peice of advice from a friend, "I Read every corner like [I'm] a motorcyclist. Don’t just see an entry, apex and an exit, look for surface change and imperfections." Look for anything that may cause you to make sudden corrections and prepare. If you cant see them, or aren’t sure, slow down!

Be safe out there.

Oh what a feeling...

2009-06-08T18:06:00.000-07:00

In my last piece I wrote briefly about the FD2R, (PHWOAR!!!!) and mentioned that I would be first in line to Import one.

Well as it happens I am about import a car, not the fire breathing Honda, but sticking with my roots, and passions, another Toyota.

Strangely enough, I also have a thing for wagons, I love them. There’s something so aesthetically pleasing about the shape of the roof line, and the space that’s created behind you. Not to mention the versatility, and the practicality of being able to put my bike in the back and not have to remove the wheels, or driving to a party, getting to drunk to move and simply passing out in the back.

So when this car came up ... you can bet I was frothing at the mouth.

I introduce the Toyota Caldina GT-Four

Just to fire off a few specs before I get lost it its magical form;
2.0l turbo charged, all wheel drive, super ECT (Electronically Controlled Transmission), auto with 4 speed tiptronic slush box (I know, I know, but I’ll explain soon), Active Yaw Control, ABS as standard Kit. The N Edition comes with a few tidy little options. Recaro Interior, twin Torsen LSD’s, and Toyota Racing Development suspension, Yummy.

Its the perfect car for me. Now I say this every time I am trying to justify getting myself into a whole new world of hurt, but really, it is. It has everything I have been looking for in a car.

Here’s a bit of pedigree for you. The 3SGTE 4wd platform is the same as in the all conquering GT4 that powered the Toyota Celica to WRC podium status for years. Also the 3sgte is found in the epic mid engined Toyota MR2 SW22.

The 3SGTE, is another of those fire breathing Yamaha developed Toyota “G” series engines, that have been designed for performance. Think 4AGE, 2ZZGE, 7MGTE, 3SGTE, and all the cars that had these fitted, Corolla SX, AE86 Sprinter/Trueno The Supercharged MR2, the Corolla Sportivo, Celica ZZT, MR2 MRS edition, the Lotus Elise/Exige, The Turbo Charged Supra, the Lexus IS200, All the Beams developed engines. That makes for an amazing stable of strong willing thoroughbred engines, in more than capable cars.

The 3SG block has a perfectly square Bore and Stroke of 86mm giving it a kind of symmetry that truly balances the power. In stock form, the power is hefty enough with close to 195Kw at 6200 rpm, and 323 nm of torque at 4400 rpm. With a kerb weight of only 1450kgs, it makes this car quite an attractive package and one starts wondering, why weren’t these delivered here? With more power than the Subaru WRX of the same year, and undoubtedly better styling (those WRX Bug Eyes were just terrible!) and with all the practicality of a family wagon, it could have been a serious contender!

Being a forced induction car, there are many many modifications that could be simply bolted on or plugged in to have this car pumping out close to 200kw at the wheels, without having to fret about the cylinder walls popping or the conrods bending. This car is a serious tuners dream!

I’m growing fond of the idea of driving an auto around for a change. I’ve had some serious fun in five and six speed cars, but I’m looking for something I can just antagonise when I want. I find myself more and more shutting the valve on my Varex muffler, and cruising along in quiet listening to talk back radio pondering the cost of canned corn, I guess I am growing up.

But there’s still a boy racer in me that wants all paw stability and the sound of turbo spool. And when I read reviews on the car that say things like “throwing this car into an apex was never tiring or unnerving at any time” and “levels of grip in this car are truly credited to its well established pedigree in rally”, it doesn’t mean I’ll be obeying every corner speed advisory!

So anyway, now I find myself pouring over countless pages of catalogue entries, from Japanese car wholesalers, looking at export ratings, and grades of condition, looking for that diamond in the rough.

I’ll keep you posted and no doubt there will be an extensive drive comparison in the coming months.

Stay safe out there.

PS:
Here's my sportivo's for sale advertisement.
FOR SALE : Toyota Corolla Sportivo 2003 - White

Training Wheels, Part Two

2009-06-02T07:13:00.000-07:00

Two years ago the Monash University Accident Research Centre invited me to the launch of Going Solo, a booklet for parents of young people about to embark on independent driving. After enjoying a coffee and some pastries I went down stairs, jumped in the X-Trail, and drove through torrential rain to Mount Buller.

It is absurd, I thought, that young drivers are allowed to drive in these same conditions, on these same roads, without any formal training. The only practical driving test they must be complete is proving to someone they can correctly parallel park. Not confidence inspiring stuff.

The Going Solo booklet was designed to help convince parents to hand the keys to their kids, thus giving them more time and experience on the road. Addressing the problem of overprotective parents was certainly needed. But it’s an indirect solution to the real problem: a fantastic lack of experience in new drivers.

In 2001 the Monash University Accident Research Centre conducted a study on the impact of driver training on young people. Many people incorrectly cite this study as proof that driver training actually increases the likelihood of being involved in a collision due to the confidence that is instilled in the participants. These were not the findings of the study. In fact, the paper found that many people had stopped speeding and tailgating after participating in the training. The study recommended that driver training be considered by road safety experts in the future.

But even as recently as 2007, when I spoke to a senior researcher at MUARC, she held the position that driver training is detrimental to young drivers.

Two months ago a good friend of mine called to tell me that she’d almost had an accident. Driving in heavy rain, Georgia had read the road ahead and prepared herself for someone to do something stupid. Sure enough, a car pulled in front of her, causing her to jump on the anchors, the ABS shuddering through the pedal of her Yaris, and she successfully steered her way around the moron.

For Christmas a friend had bought Georgia a place at the BMW Driver Training day at Phillip Island. She says were it not for that, she would have ploughed into that dickhead; with possibly dire results.

It’s no secret that insurance companies are the safest gamblers you’ll ever find. They base everything they do on well-funded, well-founded research. Know this: many insurance companies lower your premiums if you’ve completed a driver training course. This means that they think you’re less likely to have a crash. If it makes you safer on the road, why isn’t driver training compulsory for new drivers?

The answer is logistics.

Can you imagine – every fresh-faced 18 year old that gets their licence, every day, hundreds of them throughout Australia… How could every one of them possibly take part in a day-long course? It would be a nightmare. I don’t know many driver training companies there are in Australia, but my guess would be not enough.

So the government continues to cite incorrect “evidence” that is also completely out of date, because it sounds better than saying ‘It’s too hard.’

My solution? Introduce driver training as a compulsory subject in senior school.

We have subjects that teach cooking, money management, law, art, computer skillz, sports, media… hell, even English is compulsory. But if you want to be a tradie, not knowing how to correctly insert quotation marks isn’t going to kill you. Not knowing how to brake correctly just might.

Yes, this raises a host of issues and would be hard for schools in remote areas – I’m not saying it won’t present problems – but really, this is about reducing the number of deaths and serious injuries suffered by thousands every year. I’m sure we could work through the hurdles with that promise. I would happily teach kids how to drive, and I know a lot of others that feel the same.

Give me one term with a classroom of year 12 students, and I’ll scare the shit out of them. And not just with my body odour, but with pictures, videos, real-life accounts of car accidents. Have them talk to someone with acquired brain damage. As I said in Part One, there could be excursions out where kids get to see how much damage is caused at 50kph. We could incorporate it with the proposed buy-back scheme for older cars (designed to encourage the sales of newer, safer vehicles) and kill two birds with one stone.

I know this seems like a long shot, but to me, it’s insanity to ignore this issue any longer. At some point we need to stop relying on technology to save us, and start taking responsibility for what is going on.

I like your old stuff better than your new stuff

2009-06-01T07:07:00.000-07:00

Like many albums and movies, it happens more than we prefer, that the new release often leaves us leaving the theatre or searching for the original, asking ourselves “why bother?”.

I draw examples such as Oceans 12, or Charlies Angels II. While all the basic elements are present, the whole experience was always going to be diminished by its previous version. All the actors are there, Cameron Diaz still looks amazing in latex, and there is still a complicated robbery or heist in the former, but somehow the execution of the whole movie is diluted and somewhat lost in the amazing shadow of its older brother or sisters.

This type of unfortunate ‘older sibling’ syndrome happens in the car industry more than we like. Classic examples would be the VL – VN Holden Commodore, the AE93 – AE 101 Toyota Corolla, the Toyota MR2 from the SW22 to the ZZW30. (That’s the hideous excuse we were delivered in Australia with all the power of a regular washing machine spec Corolla, not the Fire breathing MR-S they have in Japan.)
While not always the case, some sequels in the car game came as a blessing and, now new owners are eagerly awaiting the next edition. Take the R32 Golf, and the Epic Skyline R32, 33, 34, 35 series we now have.

And for something completely bucking the trend, take the Mazda MX5 series. These engineers thought their first version was developed and balanced so perfectly all the new versions, with their up spec’d engines, suspension, and interior still retain the same weight, balance, poise and budget precision handling as the original.

But for me, the ultimate let down came from Honda. It was a Bruce Springsteen moment for them. I hear you questioning me already, but take this on board, America’s Rock and Roll Son, released an album called “Working On A Dream”, where he steps away from the bad boy image, we’d come to love from him. No longer was he Born in the USA with Fire and sweat, and tight leather, but stepped into a cheap suit crooning for the older ladies, and making a fast track to the retail space next to the worst sunglasses you will ever own in service stations all over the world.
Sorry, let me try and explain this a little better.

Honda, in 2001 released probably the best small hatch EVER! It was the Civic Type R, with its own chassis code EP3. It’s one of those cars that HAVE to be on anyone’s “list of cars I must own before I die”.

This thing was the 2nd coming in a line of hot hatches and Type R badges that was born out of the Honda Stable. The previous Version the EK9 was loaded with the same engine as the DC2R Integra, the B16B. It was well equipped too! With Recaro and Momo badges, helical LSD and boasted a kerb weight that the Olsen Twins would be proud of.

The EP3 is something special. Developed for the EUDM, Again with a lashings of red Recaro seats, and a Momo tiller, 17 inch rims, now with a 6 speed close ratio gear box, and the B16B’s Big Brother, the K20A. This 2 litre, i-VTEC engine is a monster, boasting a power output of 158kw at around 7600 rpm.

The face-lifted version released in 2004 received a new handling package, with up rated suspension and a steering system which makes it today, one of the best handling mass produced hot hatches on the market.

All things were leading to an epic next chapter. Honda’s marketing dept, had everyone right where they wanted us. And we waited with baited breath.

Then, the Bruce Springsteen Moment. The FN2R, the “Hamster”. While this Australian/Euro delivered piece of design garbage may have seen hairdressers running from the salon to the car yard and the baristas in trendy cafes burning milk, gawking, but it’s what’s underneath that really matters to the folks like us.

So it seems along with Hondas lack of focus on what a Type R really should be, the accounting department became car designers too. A massive no no! While they kept the gorgeous Recaros and treated the insides with great kit, they took away the handling. When your sales pitch is built around spritely handing, and high revving, angry terrier, automotive excellence, removing the rear Macpherson suspension and replacing with a torsion beam was a bad, so bad, thing to do.

I could go on, but it gets worse, and that’s just depressing.

But if you are an FN2R owner, look away now.

This is the Type R we deserved, but Japan wouldn’t let us have. This car is like your girlfriend's sexy younger sister, something you want to have but know you just can’t have. And to make it slightly elitist, they made it in only one colour, white, Championship White. It’s gorgeous.

With a 165kw engine peaking at 8500 rpm mated to yet another 6 speed close ratio box making all the loud noises, and taking care of the propulsion, partnered to four pot Brembo’s hidden behind 18” rims as standard, wrapped in Bridgestone Potenza RE070’s to take care of all the “whoa” urges. While obvious misses are the lack of Recaro and Momo Badges, all the hardcore racers bits have been designed and developed by Honda. It's truly, a Honda Type R.

When this version is available for import, you’ll find me at the front of the que.

Must have.

Take care out there.

My obsession of the day..

2009-05-29T05:53:00.000-07:00

Did you guys know, that the Americans spent x amount of millions of dollars creating a pen that could write upside down, and the Russians just used a pencil?

I'm guessing you've probably heard that before. Me too, actually. And I enjoy hearing it every time.

I have realised a couple of things recently, one of them being my introductory post from Sheqel started off with "I have a depressed friend". Is that me? I'm really quite upbeat. And secondly, NO ONE IN MELBOURNE KNOWS HOW TO FUCKING DRIVE PROPERLY ON THE FREEWAY. SERIOUSLY, IF YOU'RE IN THE RIGHT HAND LANE, DOING 99 AND SOMEONE IS BEHIND YOU, MOVE THE FUCK OVER. Also, just because the road is wet, doesn't mean you need to do 70. Suck it up or just move over.

Thanks for letting me clear that up.

After taking some mandatory deep breaths, as I all-too often need to do when thinking about my commute to and from work, I will give you some insight into my heavily (car-wise) conflicted brain. I think, it's safe to say, that I have an obsession. And I'm not talking, "yeah that guy is obsessed with cars because he knows what a blow off valve does". I'm talking, when I'm not working, I'm surfing carsales looking for trades, cash deals and swaps. That would explain why, at the age of 23(just turned) I have had 8 cars. And not just, 8 shitboxes without engines. They all ran, quite well some would say. But they all had a weak spot that I inevitably broke. Then, instead of fixing, I take the loss and buy something else. Does anyone else do this? Or is it just me.. This is where my conflict begins, and my wallet ends. I change my mind more often than confused religious fundamentalists' condemn something they know nothing about. (Too far?). Most weekdays I will have a new obsession, or a re-kindled old one. Today it was Audi B6 S4's. In Manual trim, mate they are a piece of alright.

In regards to Sheqel's earlier post, I must stick up for The Renault Megane sport cup, as they are a brilliant, brilliant machine. I'm not going to preach like other frog car fanboys do, I'm just putting it out there.. that's all.

I'm trying not to fall into the long-winded story of "how cars became a part of my life" (Although if you must know, it was my sisters boyfriends genuine 1966 XR GT).

For those who haven't skimmed over this post, I look forward to providing you with my daily obsession of choice, and my perspective on all things turbo, japanese, european, four wheels..two wheels.. hulls..

For now, I leave you with this:

Restecp.

Training Wheels, Part One

2009-05-28T01:32:00.000-07:00

I’m not really all that masculine.

It’s ok, I accepted this many years ago. I’d head down to the local discotheque of a Saturday night and feel completely out of place amongst all the meat-heads. And it’s not that I felt inferior as a man; I would just rather spend my time perfecting my heel-toe technique than learning how to dance with my crotch.

But despite not being ‘one of the boys’ there really isn’t much that genuinely scares me. Spending my life in a dead-end job scares the hell out of me. A loveless marriage scares me. And car crashes scare me.

I’ve been in quite a few over the years, and almost all as a passenger.

The worst was in of July of 2007. My two best mates and I drove to Stockton Beach north of Sydney to test out the FJ40 Land Cruiser soft-top one of them had just bought. We were driving along the beach just before dawn so we could watch the sunrise at the waters edge before we’d have our day of fun. As we were driving up a slight incline in the dark, we were unaware that the other side of the dune had washed out. We careered over the edge, landing on the nose of the car, and rolling onto the roof. Of course, there was no roof, but luckily there was a roll cage installed. It saved our lives. Incredibly, the cage itself had actually punched through the floor about a foot due to the force of the crash. Still upside-down, my mate grabbed the hanging UHF and shouted for the Land Cruiser that was following us to stop. That was enough for them to jump on the brakes just before they came over the top and hit our nose. And I was trapped in the back for a few minutes drifting in and out of consciousness.

I remember telling my mother, at about the age of 16 and whilst I was driving, that I probably won’t die because of speeding or drifting. I said to her that I thought I would most likely die changing the CD when I was at the wheel.

I still think that’s true. But at that age, I had no real grasp of how to look for an accident. Now I think the biggest contributing factor to the young road toll is that that can’t visualise an accident.

When I’m driving I’m always sub-consciously looking for the worst possible outcome. And it comes from knowing what it’s like to spin out at high speeds; what it feels like to be the ice in a cocktail shaker; and the sound of screetching tyres and metal and glass as they crunch together.

A couple of years ago I was interviewing one of Australia’s leading womanising stuntmen, and he was telling me about a time he took his son out near his farm. He’d picked up an old Volvo, put a helmet on the kid, and taken him down a back road. And then he rolled the car. Purely to show him how easy this was to do.

By the look of his nose, this guy had been in one too many accidents without the proper safety equipment – but his story really struck a chord with me. Why the hell aren’t we crashing our children in cars from a young age?

Driver training centres simulate wet conditions and how to control a car in the event of over or understeer. Why shouldn’t we put them in cars and roll them? Or drive them into a wall at 40kph? I swear to God, this would have a genuine effect on the road toll.

Not only would young people love being strapped into a car and crashed, they would realise the fine line between being in control, and not. Realistically, you wouldn’t have to put them in the car. Put them a safe distance away and let them watch the carnage.

There really aren’t many things that scare me. But being a passenger in the car of a young driver scares the shit out of me.

Happiness Is The Key

2009-05-22T01:31:00.000-07:00

I have a depressed friend.

The other night we started talking about what makes us happy. Not just happy, but when we are at our happiest.

Sitting – as I did just last night – at a pokey little jazz club in my beloved Melbourne, surrounded by friends, amazingly talented musicians, and complimented with a good glass of red was high on the list.

Curled up on the couch with a warm girl (yes, girl) under a blanket, watching DVDs next to a roaring open fire as the rain washes against the window – again, this was pretty high up there.

Also on my list was something that I’ve been lucky enough to experience more than once in my life. A beautifully bright, sunny day, coupled with a fast car (convertible or open sunroof, please) and a winding road next to the sea. Add to that a CD of some shameless house music or happy drum & bass, and life couldn’t be better.

There are some other things on the list that I’ll spare you, as I’m sure you can imagine what most guys my age want.

Everyone seems to be searching for happiness in this life. And I think they’re missing the point.

Of course you should be striving for happiness, but the problem is most wouldn’t know how to define it. For me, happiness is freedom and happiness is friends. And a good soundtrack to go with whatever we’re doing.

A good friend of mine, Pinstripe, has a similar outlook on life. Despite his strange fetish with French cars (francautomania), we spend most of our time together discussing what cars we should give a home to.

He’s a bit of a traditionalist. For him, a car must handle like it’s about to go compete at the Mt Buller Sprint. It must be powerful enough to eat almost anything at the Dandy drags. And it has to make a statement.

His list of cars reads like the contents page of Fast Fours, with a few turbo sixes and a V8 thrown in for good measure. Like many of our loyal readers, stepping out of the elevator and walking to his car fills him with joy. And like those same readers, nothing can compare with driving that car on a mountain road in the dead of the night.

Luckily for us, Pinstripe is the latest contributor to Track Shun. I hope you enjoy his love of all things fast as much as I do.

A Land Of Sweeping Plains

2009-05-18T08:25:00.000-07:00

Fellow Australians, we do truly live in the lucky country.

Incredible sun-drenched beaches; fantastic restaurants, cafes, and chic shopping precincts; and roads that can match any of the finest routes you’ll find overseas (in fun – not quality).

And for less than $5,000 you can buy a ten-year-old, rear wheel drive sedan with a big six-pack up the front. Seriously, what more could you want?

Well, if we’re talking about the Ford AU Falcon, then the answer is almost anything else.

But in the case of the VT Commodore, or for a few bucks more, the BA Falcon, you’ll be getting some pretty honest cars. In between them, you’ll find hundreds of model variants to suit almost any body. (Unless you need something small or fuel economical.)

Such choice. We are spoilt with our Australian model range. Wagons, utes, limousines, soft-roaders, performance cars, and even a coupe in the case of the Monaro. V6s, superchargers, turbochargers, LP gas options, or big muscular V8s. Diesels and hybrids are also rumoured to be on their way for the local manufacturers.

With this much choice, there is a strong culture of patriotism to our local car industry. Which is both good and bad.

We need this car industry, not only for our economy, but because it is one of the few truly unique products that we compete well at on the world stage. Our Commodore is rebadged as a Chevrolet Omega in the Middle East, as a Vauxhall VXR8 in the UK, and, until the collapse of the brand a few of weeks ago, as a Pontiac G8 in the US. And with each release in these parts of the world there came rave reviews.

But don’t try and tell me that a Statesman is equal to an S-Class, a Territory is as good as an XC90, or a GTS is on par with an M5. Australian cars have come a long way, massively so in the last fifteen years, but they’re still a long way off competing with the Europeans.

Which is why I can’t understand this reverse elitism that exists amongst Australian car owners. There is a strong sense of smugness that I’ve noticed in our local car community. And it’s an attitude being led by our local automotive media.

Sure, we should be proud of what we produce, but we don’t yet have the driving dynamics of the Germans’, the reliability of the Japanese, or the chic style of the French. Ok, so I was joking that last one. The French actually posses the same smugness we have here: Their cars are good, but they simply aren’t as good as they think they are.

When the VE Commodore was released in 2006 it was touted as Holden’s Billion Dollar Baby. Local motoring journalists spewed out claims that this was our local industry’s answer to German cars. They told us that the VE had the build quality of an Audi and held the road like a BMW.

Naturally, my anticipation grew with my rising expectations.

So when my turn finally came to drive the VE, I was genuinely impressed. And I was surprised I was impressed. I thought the 1997 VT was a massive leap over the VS, and that this VE made a similar jump from the outdated VZ.

That same day I drove the recently released BMW E60 530d; an absolutely brilliant, perfect car. Not only did it help to kick-start my love affair with modern diesels, it confirmed what I had previously suspected: the VE was not on the same level as the Germans. And at around one-third of the price, it shouldn’t be expected to be, either.

I think the VE is good value for money. If you’re not paying the bills, then the SS is a tremendously fun machine with an addictive, ballsy torque curve – which is less like a curve than a thick straight line. And in wagon trim, it’s even cooler.

But towards its limits, the Commodore still handles like it’s carrying cement both ahead of the steering wheels and behind the driving ones. The seats are more like Lay-Z-Boys, the plastics are hard and brittle, the buttons feel unrefined, and the equipment levels are the bare minimum of what is expected in a modern vehicle.

Remembering the VE cost Holden one billion dollars, the new FG Falcon cost around half a billion dollars to build. Does this mean that Ford skimped, or does it mean that Holden spent their money in a zealous manner? Well, the Ford certainly isn’t half the car of the Commodore, so it’s probably more of a latter.

Every time though, it comes back to price; and more importantly, value. If you’re looking for space, it’s hard to go past the VE Commodore or the FG Falcon. And sure, they make quick cars, imitation luxury cars, and a host of other variants, but don’t think that you’re buying anything more than what it is.

We’re lucky that we have an industry that builds uniquely Australian cars, and proudly exports them overseas. But as far as the fit, finish, and road holding of our cars are concerned, we still have a long way to go before we have a car that is truly and honestly of a world class.

It's Not In Your Blood...

2009-05-17T03:43:00.001-07:00

... It was put there!!

Bloody Corollas! It's where it all started for me. I learnt to drive in a Corolla. My Mum's car, which of course my Dad chose for her, was a very unassuming 1992 Corolla Seca.

These things are everywhere, except if you have a keen eye, there are few getting around town with a subtle difference -- two letters: SX. It's all in the engine code, really; 4AGE. Say it out loud in a crowded room with a bunch of petrol heads and those in the know will give you that wink, and a nod of acknowledgement.

This rev happy, Japanese, Yamaha developed engine delivered 100kw out of the box in a car that weighed just over the 1100kg mark. Which never made it a "V8 Killer." But in its time, it would have raised many an eyebrow of an unassuming Falcadore owner. This engine was built with a blistering red line of over 7000 rpm (!), and with Toyota's epic reliability would do it all day long if you wanted it to. These things had cross members in the engine bay to try and prevent the masses of torques steer pumped through the front treads, 4 wheel disc brakes, and anti-roll bars which gave the engine all the right bits it needed to make this little car a truly special package.

I remember vividly, on my L's, cruising home from a trip to Warragul with Dad in the passenger seat, doing the 110kmh speed limit, and him coaching me on how to blip the throttle to drop down a notch in the spritely 5 speed to hit top gear (that's 4th, 1:1 n00bs) and get the car into a more respectable rev range for things such as over taking. It put the biggest smile on my face, Dad's there saying "That's it, nice and smooth, match those revs; do it a few more times; feel the engine, listen to the car."

Then he said this... "Ok, now try dropping it into 3rd, and accelerate hard!"

You bastard! It's all your fault.

Ever since that day, I have been selecting gears in high revving 4 pots that feel like they are going to spin so hard a worm hole will open to force me into another dimension!

I grabbed 3rd and jumped on the gas in the Corolla, it hit 6000rpm, and slotted itself right at the start of the power band, and before I knew it we were about to bounce off the limiter. I grabbed 4th, still going hard, listening to the induction noise, I glanced at the speedo, 140... wait what? 140? Yep, that's what I saw. Dad's still not said anything. Ok. 160kmh, I grab 5th and back off the gas. I looked at my Dad, his face is grinning wildly.

You bastard. It's all your fault.

So anyway... after many years of telling myself that one day I'd get back in a Corolla, it happened. One came up for sale, a great example. It was a white hatch. It was just what I wanted. Had some poor paint, but the engine was as they say 'Mech A1.' It was owned by another enthusiast, so I knew I was in the right place to put my cash down.

The look on my Dad's face when I pulled up in his driveway with this car was amazing.

I took him for a drive back home near Traralgon, and he grinned like a Cheshire cat for a good 30 minutes while I pointed the two front wheels at every apex. Putting the car on its limits, I look over and he's gripping the door card handles and chuckling to himself. That was a great motoring moment for me.

It didn't take long -- "Can i have a go now?" He got back behind the wheel of the SX, wrapped his hands around the familiar leather steerer, gripped the leather gear knob, put his foot on the heavier-than-normal clutch... He says "This feels pretty familiar, doesnt it?" I laughed and he took it to redline in 1st, 2nd, 3rd. What a car!

Needless to say, we poured over that car together all weekend. We cleaned it, polished it, changed the oil, replaced the thermostat; did all the little things that needed doing.

See, my Dad is a car nut, too. His first car was an Anglia, which he did up. Then he bought a Cortina, which he did up. We had the top of the range XF Falcon Wagon (the "S" Pack). He chose that red Seca for Mum, right? He could never settle for the second best in a car. Even when it was the fully optioned Subaru Outback, he made it better.

You bastard. It's all your fault!

But it isn't in his blood. He's never raced on a track, or gone down the 1/4 mile. He has an appreciation for cars that was passed down to him from his father like it was to me. While the lightening reflexes (and the old money) may get passed down to F1 drivers from their amazing pedigree, my podgy, colour blind father taught me respect. Respect for my car, and respect for the road. A respect that many young drivers need to learn from someone authoritative; something my kids will someday learn.

I'll no doubt share some other anecdotes about this inherited life style in posts to come.

The 'Rolla went through a number of essential changes. It got modded -- but modded right. I'll no doubt elaborate on many aspects of the modifications I went through on this car and use as it as an example to draw comparisons of where so, so, so many go wrong.

I get in my car nowadays and remember how it felt back then -- getting the shift points right, landing in the top of the rev range, watching the needle on the tacho racing to the red zone -- and nothing's changed.

I thrive on hot hatches and spirited driving. I'm an enthusiast, and the Sportivo hatch I drive now has been blessed with yet another Yamaha inspired engine. It revs high, stops quick, and grips well. Everyday I drive it, and I smile.

In the coming posts, no doubt, I'll be drooling over many a hot hatch, and delving into the mind of the modern man, and our new found diversity of performance, and handling in modern cars.

Stay safe out there everyone, and enjoy your cars.

And for your amusement...

Maketh The Man

2009-05-17T00:26:00.000-07:00

There is a question I’m constantly asked. Almost without fail, when a car apathist enquires as to how much I’ve just spent on an upgrade, or the price of my next car, they ask:

“How can you justify spending that much?”

My answer is always the same. If I were really into fishing I would own many fishing rods. Some made out of carbon-fibre, some designed to get one type of fish or another. I would spend $2,000 on a fishing rod without blinking because fishing is what I get pleasure from.

But I’m not into fishing. I’m into driving. I love cars and the pleasures they evoke when I drive them. So I spend lots of my money on cars.

Generally, they’ll nod, respond with “fair enough,” and walk away to do something non-car related.

For my friends and I, spending money on our cars is perfectly justified. They are a giant blank canvas for which we can change and manipulate in order to represent ourselves. By sliding into the driver’s seat of a car, you are more or less putting on another set of clothes. To us, it can be the difference between Fubu and Armani.

Anyone who knows anything about fashion realises that putting on an expensive garment isn’t about showing off. Of course, that element is always a part of it, but it’s more about the quality of the material, the manufacture, and the fit. Primarily, though, it’s about how you feel when you put it on.

A car is no different. What type of car you drive says a lot about you. A modified car, and how it is modified, says so much more.

Take for example the Toyota Corolla – the standard by which all other small cars are compared. Most believe it to be a perfectly uninspiring and inoffensive vehicle, and they’d be right. Until you realise that the Corolla badge has a history steeped in performance.

Since it was first introduced in 1966 the standard run-of-the-mill Corolla has been accompanied by its performance stable mate: the Sprinter. Originally a sport-back coupe (not to be confused with the sport-back moniker used to identify wagons nowadays), the Sprinter was sold as the slightly sexier, slightly more desirable, sometimes faster variant. Over the years there have been a number of changes to the performance name, but the idea has never changed.

Arguably the best known of the Sprinters is the AE86. Most people wouldn’t even realise it was actually a Corolla. A sleek fast-back (hatch coupe) with a north-south 16-valve 1.6 litre 4AGE, the AE86 is the spiritual forefather of drifting. The featherweight rear-wheel-drive proved that, just like its predecessors before and its successors thereafter, you don’t need high horsepower to successfully compete on (or off) the track.

In 2003 the ninth generation Corolla was released; and with it, the Sportivo – the reinvention of the old Sprinter nameplate.

And here we have one of the most underrated, unassuming performance hatches on our roads. Chosen by Lotus to be used in their Elise and Exige models, the Sportivo enjoyed a 141kw 1.8 litre engine mated to a 6-speed manual gearbox. Granted, this was a damn expensive vehicle from new when compared with others, even with standard leather. But despite the famous Corolla depreciation (or lack thereof) the Sportivo remains one of the best-value hot hatches in the used car market.

Allow me to introduce Blind Kid Seeks, Track Shun’s latest contributor. His stark white Toyota Corolla Sportivo, riding on black multi-spoke wheels with subtle eyelids says a lot about who he is. Unlike your typical ricer hatch, his is a very clean vehicle. One that speaks directly to other enthusiasts.

BKS will give another perspective to the joys of driving, particularly in the areas I have little authority to speak on – that of spirited front-wheel-driving. As someone who works in the fashion industry and is always up with the latest trends, perhaps his car speaks more about his persona than most. Like a clean-cut Calvin Klein suit, it is maybe not the first thing traditionalists think of, but it’s very well respected by those in the know.

Driving Force

2009-05-07T19:49:00.000-07:00

Despite our five year gap, my big brother and I share very similar tastes.

I bought my first Linx Java when I was ten after I discovered his can of Java. I watched the shows he loved, and hated the shows he hated. I even stole his dinner recipes to impress girls. So when I became old enough to form opinions of my own, I started to listen to what my heart really longed for.

And from that came two major differences between us: He likes films; I like cars. He likes mint chocolate; and I don’t so much.

My brother likes movies probably about as much as I like driving. I love the cinema too, but I just like driving that little bit more. In the same way that you like both movies and driving, but you just prefer bourbon and porn.

You see, in a cinema you can sit back and for 80 minutes you forget about your bills, forget your chores, and give yourself to the director. You allow yourself to be taken from your world. And if the director is any good they will capture your attention and play with your emotions. They will stimulate your senses. Even touch, depending on how good the subwoofer is.

It’s not a big jump to find parallels between a cinema experience and driving. And I’m not talking about popping down the shops in your mum’s Festiva. I mean real driving. The type of driving that most people haven’t genuinely experienced, and therefore assume people who are ‘into’ driving need a testicle removed.

Real driving. Just like in a cinema, you sit in a big hugging seat with surround sound and a big screen in front of you. But there is something more, I think. In the right car, on the right road, every sense is electrified. Being able to feel, through every part of your body, that you’re pushing the limits of what is physically possible.

In the right car, on the right road, at the right time, you can experience the same sort of escapism that films, bourbon, and illicit drugs provide.

Imagine a winding piece of blacktop, with a fatal drop to your left and a wall of rock to your right. Your windows are down, so you can better hear the howl from the exhaust as you accelerate out of the corner. Hitting four and a half grand in third, you push hard into the brake, blipping the accelerator with your heel as you punch the clutch and grab second, holding the wheel with your right hand as it fights against you. Off the brakes, the car dives into the corner, your right foot applying pressure to the throttle as you touch your first apex; second apex; the front tyres scrambling to maintain grip. You see your exit line and open the throttle, getting ready to set the car up for the next series of corners.

It’s like a movie, but instead, you’re the star. You’re not watching someone else experience the adventure. It’s you that is in control.

There’s also an argument that you’re far less likely to die in a cinema than you are pushing a car to its limits on a winding road. Which is fair enough. Some nights I just want to lie on the couch and watch someone else play with danger as I eat the cold popcorn that slid down the side of the couch.

But there is a certain something about spirited driving that I don’t experience anywhere else. A roller coaster gives a similar rush, but not in the same way. You know what to expect as you’ve watched it go around two dozen times as you waited in the line, and you’re not responsible for the consequences should something go wrong. Unless you’ve decided to eat a dodgy hot dog from that Bedford van around the corner before you lined up.

I think it’s unfortunate that the line has blurred between people who love cars, and those who love driving. Granted, most people who love driving also love cars, but it’s not always the other way around. Cars with four-pots mated to autos and wearing 21” chromies is a testament to that. Which is partially why I’ve created Track Shun.

The majority of editorials and car blogs focus on the current state of the automotive industry and on new car releases, and very few talk about the love of that driving experience. Of course, I’ll be talking about the industry and new cars, too, but it’ll be smarter and funnier.

Probably the biggest similarity between my brother and myself is that we are both very passionate about the things we love. And seeing as Top Gear Australia decided not to hire me, this blog will have to do.