Demolition derby

I was reminiscing the other day and the first demolition derby I drove in came to mind.

My cousin James had an '88 Dodge Dynasty with a 3.0L V6 engine. He decided to get rid of it when the transmission went out. It went into "Limp Mode" so that only second and reverse would work. Since the engine was healthy and it went forwards and backwards, I figured I'd derby it. I paid him $75 and agreed that he could ride shotgun during the race.

I worked long and hard on the Dodge. I started with the most important things, the gas tank and battery. Both have to be moved and that is the hardest part of the build. I pulled the back seat and cut the gas tank from underneath. After installing and strapping it down where the rear seat went, I drilled a hole in the floor so the electrical and fuel lines can come through. The battery was a little easier. I drilled another hole in the floor and ran cable extensions from the stock cables. The battery sat in between the front seats, down in the footwell. Then, came the fun part. The taillights came out, exhaust was cut off after the cat, the trunk carpet and spare came next. The headlights were pulled and two triangle holes were cut in the hood to allow the fire extinguisher in. I chose triangles because they look almost stock. I busted the windows with a sledge and that brought on the second hardest stage in the build, cleaning the glass. The windshield stayed in. I didn't want to get into cleaning that up. I had mounted a set of 195/75R14 whitewall mud tires on the front wheels. They came off a '78 Cutlass. We used only white paint. My number has always been 55 since the track is the only place that I can actually drive 55. I used my usual slogans like "Die trying" and "Kill 'em all" and "save the world, kill yourself". I painted "Road Warrior" on the front fenders and my "Suicide Squad" logo, which is a guy shooting himself in the head. On the roof, I painted my TV head guy. It's a guy in a suit with a TV for a head, usually holding a weapon. That year, it was a flamethrower. I chained the doors shut and locked them and the car was ready.

My Cousin Mike kept telling me to bolt the hood and trunk down. I didn't listen. I just wanted it done. I rented a tow dolly and hitched it to the back of my Caprice. Tomorrow would be a wild day.

I got everyone up at 6am. I wanted to be there early in case something went wrong. Even though the sun was just coming up, it was already warm. I was hungry and thirsty, but I wanted to get there at all costs. The whipped old Caprice pulled the dolly nicely, despite the 394000 miles on the odometer. I drank a ton of water that day, not realizing that it would sap all my electrolytes. I was already feeling weary.

We sat on lawn chairs, myself, James, and Mike. I checked and double checked the gas and battery. I started the car every hour to make sure nothing strange would happen. I wasn't gonna wait another year because of something stupid. all systems were go. It seemed like eons had rolled by when 11am came around. The stands were filled with eager fans. My parents, cousins, coworkers, friends, my boss, and most of the people in Lake County were there.

The announcer was talking to the crowd as another hour went by. We were slated to be in the first race, just the way I wanted it. I surveyed the other cars in our heat. ALL of them were big GMs and Fords from the 70s and 80s. Half of the 12 cars were station wagons. The scariest one was a '76 Grand Marquis painted all black. We were the smallest car in our heat, and in the entire derby. I can't remember if compact cars had their own race, but for the full-size guys, we were the underdogs. Finally, he asked everyone to rise for the national anthem. I stood, with my hat on my chest as the rockets red blare and bombs bursted in air. With 9/11 still relatively fresh on everyone's minds (it was 2003), it still hit home. The song ended and we were given the signal to saddle up.

I had never been so nervous in my whole life. There was a crushing pain in my chest and my heart was in my throat. I felt lightheaded as I opened the driver's door and hopped inside. James did the same and we slammed and locked the doors. The chains went around and helmets went on. With the exhaust gone, the engine noise was deafening. I had to read the tach to make sure the engine was still running. We looked at each other as the flagman waved us into the arena. We were the first car on the track on the first heat of the Lake County Fair for 2003. The flagman yelled something to me through the window and I think it was "Go park in the corner", but I'm not sure. I pulled into the middle of the track and decided to show off. I slammed the car in reverse and did a reverse donut. The crowd went crazy. They were really hyped up. I pulled into the corner, banging on the hood as the mighty, little V6 pulled us along. I adjusted the rearview mirror on the windshield. We both turned back to see what else was coming on the track. The Caprices, Crown Victorias and Cadillac entered the track. I saw that monster Mercury saunter onto the track. It drove like a mastodon through a tarpit with it's worn out whitewall street tires. It parked on the other side of the track with it's back bumper facing our back bumper. The driver turned around and made a gesture like he shot us. I gulped.

I turned around and ran through my strategy. Keep moving, float like a Cadillac, sting like a Beemer. My secret weapon was agility. A smaller car traveling at a faster velocity should equal a greater force, right? I actually asked myself that question, idling on the track. "Right?"

The announcer started counting down. "5..." The crowd counted with them. "4..." All I could hear was the roar of the crowd, the idling of the engine, the nagging fears, the worry, the angst... "3..." My cousin turned to me and yelled something. He had an expression of a deranged man. The anticipation of doing something that most people would never have thought of doing in there entire lifetime, the opportunity to act so irresponsibly and reckless, was overwhelmingly. "2..." My throat was dry, my head pounding, my hands gripped the steering wheel so hard, my knuckles were white. "1..." I revved the engine to 2500 rpm. I turned around and gazed upon the mammoth Carter-era Mercury. The car outweighed us be 1200 lbs, easy. It's engine was three times bigger than ours. I saw the driver's eyes, burned red by the fuel of rage and automotive aggression. I didn't know Satan liked Mercurys. All I felt was the thumping of my heart, nothing else. At that instant, there were no cars, no dirt track, no crowd, no noise... nothing...

"GREEN FLAG!!! LET'S GET RACING!!!"

I didn't hear the announcement, but I anticipated it. I released the brake and the Dynasty catapulted backwards across the track. The engine wound up like a top. The front tires churned mud, but caught a good grip. The Dodge was at 20 mph when everyone else was spinning tires. The Mercury grew in our rear window. It's massive steel bumper looming over our midsized suicide booth. I thought I should turn around, but I wanted to make sure I got a good hit. I think I hit that Merc doing 35 mph. The impact was as if God had dropped kicked our car straight to Hell. I felt like a mouse in a coffee can as some sadistic kid was shaking the hell out of it. I felt muscles in my torso being stretched and bent in ways they were never supposed to go.  The impact was so great, that the steering wheel bent and the front seat brackets pulled out of the floor. I had slammed the column shift into drive and had the gas down. I glanced at the rearview mirror and found it missing. It turned up later in the backseat. It was automatically printed in my brain to keep the pedal down and just slam it from reverse to drive and back when I wanted to change directions.

I was struggling with putting my brains back in my head. James was yelling something at me, but I still couldn't understand him. The front tires churned mud, trying to break free from the '76 Grand Mess. He had the gas floored, and he was actually pulling us around the track. We were playing "Tug-of-War" of Doom and we were losing. I saw a '78 Pontiac out of my driver's window. He was gunning around the straightaway, trying to get at our radiator. I revved and revved, the tach bumped 6000 rpm. I turned back and from out of nowhere, light a white knight, a big white Cadillac with a plastic hypodermic needle bolted to the roof rammed THROUGH our intertwined cars. He cut through us like a hot knife through butter. Dr. Demo in the #911 car had saved us. The Dodge was freed and the front end quickly dug in. She pulled and pulled, scrambling for every ounce of horsepower that the 3.0L could provide. The "Temp" light flicked on for a second and flicked back off. The Dodge was in motion. That Pontiac presented his driver's quarter panel to me as if to say "Come on, free shot." I gladly obliged. The Pontiac swung away like a door and we kept going, sending pieces of fiberglass flying from the impact. We made a few hits, but I kept the Dodge running. We circled the big pile of cars that had amassed in the center of the track. I turned the corner and slammed a station wagon. IT barely phased the Custom Cruiser. I looked up and the black Pontiac slid into view. The long, black car had its passenger side exposed. I could track shot him in the wheel and put him away for good. It was like an automotive "The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly." A swirl of dust kicked up and we locked eyes. The driver of the Pontiac saw my intentions and revved the engine. The rear wheels spun like mad as he presented the big, chrome grille to us. The front end dipped as he goosed the throttle once again. I stabbed the gas and let the V6 ring. I floored it sending the Dodge on a kamikaze run towards All-American glory, fame and fortune or instant death. He sent the Pontiac flying towards us. The big Bonneville loomed over us. I braced for impact and yelled at the top of my lungs.

When I came to, I saw nothing but grey sheetmetal and cracked windshield glass. I smelled the steam, the burnt oil, the unburned fuel, and I could taste the anti-freeze. My brains couldn't form a single thought. My mind was a pile of sludge. I tried to focus. I looked at my cousin. He was holding his helmet and mouthing words. I couldn't focus. "What happened?" "What do I do?!" Uhhh...The dash. The dash. THE DASH! The almighty dash will tell me what to do! I gazed down at the dash. EVERY single warning light was illuminated. It was like a sucker-punch to my thought processes. I looked at the tachometer. 800 rpm. 800 RPM!!!! I yelled out a "WHOOO!!! 800 RPM!!!" to my cousin. He looked at me with a dumbfounded look. His bloodshot eyes pierced my euphoria. I grabbed him by the collar and screamed "800 RPM! The engine's still running!!! WHOOO!!!" I slammed the car in reverse and floored the gas.

I was satisfied in the fact that the Pontiac never moved under it's own power. The engine chugged hard and the car lumbered around the track.  We were basically getting hit, and every once in a while, we would feebly hit another car. I circled the center pile of junk, building speed, looking for that one sweet target in which I can give the Dodge an honorable death. I was peering out from under the hood, barely able to see through the steam and cracks through the windshield. I caught a glimpse of something chrome and moving. I floored the gas and piloted the Dynasty towards the shiny chrome. The Dodge complied and headed towards the light. We hit whatever it was doing 30 mph. There was a teeth-grinding, cataclysmic sound of crunching metal. We flew forward against the seatbelts one last time. The car we hit went up over the engine and opened the front end of the Dodge like a can opener. The tach sunk to 0 RPM. The Dodge was dead. I tried the ignition key. The engine cranked and cranked. I tried repeatedly until my cousin yelled at me to stop. I turned the ignition off and sat back in the upholstered seat. The race went on for another couple of minutes. Mighty Detroit behemoths clashed like rams butting heads. The big V8s spit ungodly noise and fire from the zoomie exhaust pipes.

James and I kept ourselves busy by throwing stuff out the window. The rearview mirror, the ashtray, the wooden stick that was duct taped to the b pillar, indicating we were still in the race, all went out the window. Finally, the race was over. I forgot who won. James and I climbed out of the wreckage. The Dodge was literally squished into half of it's original size. The rear bumper was pushed all the way into the rear axle and the axle was where the rear seat should've been. The front end was peeled away from the bumper. The grille, radiator, core support and the front half of the engine was flattened. The hood was bent in half and leaning against the cracked windshield. Both fenders were obliterated. I could hear my cousin Mike's words playing in my head. "You should've bolted the hood down." It turned out that we rearended a Caprice and it's back end drug over the top of our engine. The distributor cap lay in the mud, useless. The doors would no longer open, considering that they were bent so that daylight showed through the jams. All four tires were flat. IT was no longer a motor vehicle.

The forklift hoisted the pile of scrap that was once a Dodge into the air. Parts fell off the wreckage as it was towed away in view of thousands of screaming fans. They dropped it off in the pits. As a souvenir, I pulled the front right fender off, since it was mostly ripped off, anyways. We stared at the wreckage for some time. I placed my hand on the roof of the battered sedan. "Thanks, friend. You died honorably." James and I turned and walked back to the Caprice, with the sun setting over the Dodge at our backs. The Dynasty had come to and end.

6-14-11
John C Kreuz

'02 Kia Rio A/C compressor

MY cousin's girlfriend's Kia Rio is in need of a new A/C Compressor. He asked me for help a couple days ago. After researching on the internet, I came up with almost nothing. Rob, I can tell you that a new compressor costs around $300. I would try Autozone or maybe a local junkyard. Installation should take about a hour and at the average shop rate, that'd be $80. Then, you are looking at recharging the system once it's installed. You might be looking at $400-$500, depending on who you go to. Stay away from dealers. They charge too much and do the same job as the average corner mechanic (no offense, Greg).

The Rio has a serpentine belt, I think and that means that if the compressor goes, then the belt goes, too. You will instantly feel this when you lose power steering, your temperature gauge goes up and the "battery" or "alternator" light will come on the dash. Pull over and have the car towed to a shop. You will either run the battery dead or the engine will overheat if you keep driving it and that will cause extensive engine damage.

Hope this helps.

Chevy Suburban

The first time I rented a Chevy Suburban was to haul my kid's Cozy Coupes to my mother-in-law's house. Since then, I have rented four. Whenever I need a big SUV, the Suburban is the only one I want. I originally wanted an Escalade, but those require permission from the Area Manager. I had finally gotten permission, but there were no Escalades on the lot. I drove off in a Navigator with 22,000 miles. As stunning of a vehicle as it was, I was quickly dissappointed with it on multiple levels. First, the rear wiper motor didn't work. Second, the tires needed to be balanced. They were the original tires and had not been rotated or balanced. The rear seat center console was cracked and painted over. These are maintanence issues and I really can't hold it against the truck. What I didn't like about the truck itself was not enough pickup, not enough exhaust noise, the transmission hunted for gears on hard acceleration and the handling was very boaty, even for a full-size SUV.

I was very pleased with the styling of the Navigator. The front grille and gauge cluster on the dash reminded me of a mid 60's Continental. The taillights reminded me of an Edsel. I was really impressed with the rear seats. Ford installed power third row 50/50 seats. Just hit two switches and the seats lay down flat. When you fold down the middle seats, there is a flat floor surface. The GMs (Escalade, Yukon, Yukon XL, Tahoe and Suburban), on the other hand, have a second and third row seat that folds down manually and flips up vertically. Once flipped up, the seat can be taken out to provide a flat floor surface. This is still not entirely flat, because the seat tracks are still there. Also, once you start taking seats out, it's far more likely that they won't wind up back in the vehicle, or they may be installed wrong and injure somebody.

Anyways, I traded the 'Gator in for a Chevy Suburban. The first one was grey. Except for the rear seat thing, I enjoyed everything about this truck. The front end was the most conservatively styled out of all the GMs. The dash is well laid out and has a sort of "square-ish" look that I like. The interior is pepper with simulated wood and leather seats. XM radio and a USB port for my IPod kept me and the wife entertained. The USB port and auxillary jack, as well as the 12V power point were all stowed neatly in the center console. I could leave the IPod in the console and out of plain sight. The truck came with a DVD player, which was easy to use. That kept the kids happy. I liked the gauge cluster and the column shifter. Interior space was plentiful and the overall interior was well put together. Nothing seemed cheap or chintsy.

The engine was one of the best parts of the truck. My tester was a 1500 series, so it had a 5.3L v8 engine. When you leaned into the accelerator, you felt the horsepower and torque. The whine of the engine was addicting, too. IT was REALLY hard to save fuel economy and not abuse the truck. The fuel economy was the one bad thing about the truck. I got about 18 to the gallon, which is better than the 17 EPA average economy. The gas tank was massive. Half a tank cost me $50.

It had a ton of room for stuff. I was able to haul 8 people comfortably at one point. At another point, I was able to haul all the supplies and food for my son's first birthday party. All that stuff took up the whole truck. I also used that same Suburban, on a different rent, to tow a tow dolly with my '90 Crown Victoria on it. The Crown Vic weighs about 3800 lbs and the tow dolly must weigh a couple hundred. It towed it fairly well, but I got a lot of swaying at 60 mph. I guess THAT's why they put "Speed Limit 45 MPH" on the dolly. Who'dathunkit? I liked that the trailer hitch was already installed on the bumper with the 7-pin connector and the 4-pin connector. It was very easy and required almost no setup to hook a trailer to it.

My wife used the truck at the birthday party. Her idea was to make the men and women compete amongst themselves in various games for prizes. I thought it would be a disaster, but her family proved me wrong, yet again, and I got the show of a lifetime. Eventhough the actual truck wasn't used in the men's portion of the competition, the truck came in handy for toting all of the bulky equipment for the men's obstacle course. For the men, it was a "women's work" obstacle course. First, the man had to dig through a playpen that was filled with ballons and find the doll with his name on it. Then, he had to strap on an infant carrier and unfold an umbrella stroller and strap the stuffed animal "children" in. He then had to roll the stroller to a highchair and prepare a baby bottle (basically fill it with water) and then roll the stroller to the "dining room table." There, he had to set up four plates and put "food" on each plate. The food was 16 building blocks and the goal was to get four of each color on each plate. All this while the women and children are yelling at the man "I want this!" "I'm not hungry" "Why does he get four and I don't?" sort of things.  The top three fastest times would be declared winners.

I've never seen people take this stuff so seriously. The men were cut-throat about the competition. When the first place winner was announced, he did a victory dance as though he just scored the winner touchdown for the Super Bowl. I had to leave before the women's competition started. The women had to get the fastest times doing the following...

1) Search throughout the whole Suburban to find a toy that is delibrately hidden under clutter.
2) Disassemble and stow a "Pack N' Play" playpen.
3) Disassemble and stow a stroller.
4) Wipe off window marker from a side window.
5) Grab the keys from the roof of the vehicle, get in and honk the horn.

The games were a BIG success and the Suburban was the centerpiece of the activities. The big, white Suburban went down in family history as "the truck that made champions."

I drove the Escalade around the lot, once or twice. IT handled pretty much like the Suburban, but the exhaust noise was much more aggressive than the Suburban. I liked the interior of the Cadillac. The dash was more opulent, but in a tasteful way. The clock in the center of the dash reminded me of a '59 Cadillac. The big navigation screen was cool because it incorporated the Navigation, XM radio, and climate controls.

The two things that turned me off of the 'Sclade was the big "cowcatcher" front end and the center seat was actually buckets. I can't wait for Cadillac to get away from the stacked headlights and "cowcatcher" front end. The middle seat issue is especially concerning to me, since I have two small kids. With the Suburban, my little girl sits behind the driver and my boy sits in the center of the middle seat. This way, I can flip the right middle seat to let people into the third seat and not have to remove the carseats. The Escalade and Navigator don't let you do that. Also, there's less seating capacity. The Suburban is an 8 passenger, while the Escalade is only a 7 passenger. While the Suburban has stock 17" Goodyear Wrangler tires, the Escalades come with 18" or 20" wheels. 17"s are big enough for me. They provide the right amount of sidewall in the tires for comfort and basic handling. The 20s are too wide a wheel diameter and not enough tire. I'd be afraid of hitting a pothole and bending a $300 wheel and $200 tire. The Escalade also has LED taillights.

The Escalade only runs on Mobil 1 synthetic motor oil, while the Suburban runs on... well, whatever (really, it runs on like 5w30 or 10w30regular motor oil, whatever your application is).  The Yukon takes all the ugliness of the Escalade and combines it with the lack of frills from the Suburban to create a shining example of mediocrity. As far as the trucks Hertz orders, the Yukon has power folding mirrors and presets for the driver.

Every now and then, you can find a Hybrid Tahoe on the Hertz lot. It has New York plates, but I won't hold it against the truck. If I ever find that truck again, I will test drive it. It has 18" wheels, a Navigation screen, and it's black with the "HYBRID" graphics on the rocker panels. The problem is that there's no luggage rack or trailer hitch. It has been in the shop at least once. I hope I enjoy it as much as the Suburban

So, in conclusion, for a big honking road machine that'll fit the whole family and tow an old beater Crown Victoria, the Suburban is top-rate in my book. IF you want to pay a lot more for a duded-up very of the 'Burban, try an Escalade. It sounds REALLY cool. If you want the Escalade look, without the Cadillac price, get a Yukon. If you convert the taillights to the Cadillac LEDS (they fit right in), people will mistake it for a Cadillac.

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Finding a new job.

So, the reason why I haven't been posting in the past couple days is that I've been trying to apply for an Automotive Journalist job at a large website. The ad said that they needed a "brief bio" and three sample articles writed in their "style." I read a few of their articles and they were really dry and full of technical jargon. I could not find any opinions or personal comments on any car they talked about. I thought that this was their style, so I wrote three articles and threw in the Mustang review for fun.

Turns out, THAT's the only review the guy liked. I spent days writing a long bio of myself and scratched it because they wanted a "brief" one. I figured that I would do EXACTLY as they say because I've learned that following directions is the KEY to becoming a success. Once you can follow directions properly, you can give directions.

So, I gave him a copy of the Cadillac review. Hopefully, I will get signed on. I'm not sure how this all works, but I have to keep writing in my own style and I'm sure I'll go far.

It's been a while...

First off, I'd like to apologize for my lack of posts for the past couple days. MY dad came in from out of town and Sam and I have been furiously cleaning the house and yard. I had let the grass grow so long that it took three days to cut the backyard. :P

So, I was tooling around in the Edsel the other day. It left under it's own power, but came back on a tow truck. I'm not sure what's wrong with it. It will idle perfectly, but when you put it in drive or reverse, then it bogs down and dies. I eventually coaxed it into motion and wound it up to about 55 mph down Delany Rd. IT ran rather well when at cruising speeds. When I came to each stoplight, it would idle ok (since I put it in neutral). The light would turn green and I would drop her into drive and the car would bog down again. I feathered the gas until it got moving. I guess a hesitation would be the proper description. It would accelerate with the pedal slightly depressed, but bog when I pushed further.

I'm guessing that plug wires are causing the hesitation. I will put in some new ones and try again. Luckily, I had roadside assistance.

I sold my other Edsel, so I can no longer say that I'm the only one in a 25 mile radius of 60083 who owns a 58 Edsel. :(

My cousin Rob sent me a picture of a wheel on his '03 Cavalier. Apparently, he had bent one of the front wheels on a curb. The dealer bent the wheel back, but it still vibrates. It looks like a steel 14" wheel.

Take it back and have that wheel balanced. If it shows 0.00 ounces on each side of the machine and the wheel still vibrates on the car, rotate it to the rear right. In the rear of a front-wheel drive car, you are least likely to feel any bent wheel/tire problems. If the vibration is STILL too bad, keep that bent wheel as a full-size spare and buy a new/used 14" steel wheel and a new/used 195/70R14 tire.

I recommend using 2" valve stems on ANY steel wheel  (unless it has to clear a thick hubcap like a wire hubcap or an 80's front wheel drive Chrysler K-car product, then you should use 2 1/2" stems).  Getting a junkyard steel wheel should be fine. If it has a tire already on it, check for any nails or screws in the tread, check to see if it has SOME air, and check to see if it has wheel weights already on it. Also, check the tread for ANY uneven tire wear. If it has patches of wear, then it's probably bent, too. IF you can get a wheel separate from the tire, have any rust cleaned off the bead (where the tire meets the wheel) before mounting. This will seal the tire better than if the rust was still there. A wheel usually costs about $10 from the junkyard and a tire will cost $10-$15. A new tire will run at least $50 a piece.

If you plan on buying new tires, I suggest an economy All-Season Radial. I'm particularly fond of the Mastercraft A/S IV. Most economy All-seasons with a 195/70R14 size will have whitewalls, and while I am REALLY fond of whitewalls, it's always YOUR decision whether they face in (hidden) or out (showing). If there is no whitewalls, decorative ribs, or other markings like "This side facing outwards" or "Direction of Rotation", then you can face the DOT date codes outwards. The date codes tell you when the tire was stamped. For instance, the front tires on my wife's Corolla have "YOUJ YP5M 3808" stamped on the sidewall. The first and second set of characters designate stuff like manufacturer, brand, size, etc. The "3808" means that the tire was stamped on the 38th week of 2008. On MOST tires, the date only shows up on one side of the tire. I like to mount them facing out as so that a person can look at the tire and know when it was produced. This decreases the chances of the tire company selling you older tires that were sitting on a shelf for a couple years. Also, you can debunk a person's story when you are buying a used car and they say something like "I just put new tires on it." Just because they tire is shiny and looks like it has deep tread, doesn't mean it that the steel belts are in good shape.

On a side note, you can replace a 195/70R14 with a 185/75R14. The tread is a little thinner but there is virtually no height difference between the two. 185/75R14 tires are usually cheaper by $5 or so.

To sum it all up for my cousin, have the tire balanced is first step. Rotate it to the back is the second step. If all else fails, save that wheel, but buy a new/used tire and wheel of the same size.

Also, On an unrelated note, I was able to "test drive" the new Dodge Charger. It was only on the Hertz lot, but I whomped on it a little. The first thing I noticed about the car was that the fit and finish was exceptional on this car. It seemed to be put together very well. I sat down in the cloth driver's seat and started my usual adjustment ritual. First, I scoot the passenger seat all the way back and put the headrest down to it's lowest setting. Next, I scoot the driver's seat back and down to the floor and put the headrest down. Then, I adjust the steering column so it's all the way up and all the way out. I like sitting far back in the seat, but having the seatback upright, so that I'm not laying down in the car. Having the wheel adjusted closest to me allows for more leverage when turning the wheel. The straighter you arms are, the less leverage you have to quickly turn the wheel.

One thing that still bothers me is that the passenger seat doesn't scoot as far back as the driver's seat. I tested this on three separate cars. When they are all the way back, the seat bottoms should line up. Strange.

I pushed the start button and the engine fired with a healthy roar. The dash was setup nicely, but I REALLY hated the radio and climate controls. Most of them are on this little touch screen in the center of the dash. I searched for five minutes trying to find the on/off for the radio. I finally found it, but not on the touch screen, where one would THINK it should be. It was down towards the bottom of the center stack. There was just an on/off button for radio controls. I believe there was one for the climate control, but I can't really remember. The gauges were kind of small, but they were backlit really well. The center screen could be switched to whatever you want to look at (vehicle speed, fuel economy, etc). Somebody turned the brightness of the gauges all the way down and I originally thought that the lights were burnt out.

The car definitely had a "big car" feel to it, but for my low-speed maneuvers, it was fairly tight. The V6 engine responded well. It had a lot of guts, but there was some hesitation. I experienced this before in a '07 Chrysler 300. I was told that it was from the "Drive-By-Wire" system that they have. Basically, there is no throttle linkage. There's a sensor in the gas pedal and an electric motor at the throttle body. The more the pedal is pushed down, the more the throttle opens up.

The backseat was comfortable for a 6'3" guy like myself. I like that the rear headrests don't get in the way of the rear window view. Also, I think they are non-adjustable, which is great for me, since I don't like using headrests anyways. The trunk seemed spacious enough, but I had nothing to put in there for any kind of "test."

Overall, the car is a flashy, big car. Lots of pep, nice body lines, lots of LED lights, and some strange engineering. I'm still looking forward to renting one for the weekend.