Cars
It’s Vegas, baby! Motoring Editor James Deakin hops into the newest model of the iconic Corvette
The Corvette, like Elvis Presley, is the original American idol, says James Deakin. But just like its home country, it has been evolving in diversity
y the time you read this piece, there should only be a handful of sleeps left to go before the all-new seventh-generation Corvette hits Philippine roads— that’s exactly how I planned it.
You see I’ve been living with this painful little secret for over three months now. Well, technically speaking, it’s not a secret; but I kept it as one simply because I was sparing you from the same sleepless nights that have been a part of my daily life since June, after I climbed out of the cockpit of one of the most emotional cars I’ve driven this year.
I say emotional because you don’t just drive a Corvette. It drives you—and not in a chauffeur kind of way, either. I’m talking about the nameplate and everything that it stands for. The impact it had on pop culture, car culture, and the entire American culture.
I struggle to think of a car that has had more songs written about it, nor can I think of one that has shaped so many dreams. To say the Corvette is just a great car is like saying Elvis was just a great singer. They are far more than that. They are the original American Idols.
Ferraris and Porsches also enjoy similar cult status, of course, but to far less people. One of the many things that makes the Corvette special is that it’s far more attainable. It’s the whole girl-next-door type of thing. It’s almost a tangible fantasy, if there is such a thing, and one I was able to live out in Las Vegas—the original city of dreams.
There’s a proving ground out there they call Spring Mountain, which will soon be the biggest driving park or racetrack in the entire world. Yes, even bigger than the Nürburgring once the plans are completed. It’s a massive facility that is built on the side of a mountain with a private resort and villas, but not nearly big enough to explore the massive potential of all this American muscle.
Because no matter how much it has evolved since its launch back in June of 1953, it still retains its trademarked V8 engine, which needs a whole lot of road to breathe—or in our case, take our breath away. La La Las Vegas
Lining up at the feeder road to the 2.2 milehandling course, the multi-coloured Vettes literally looked like candy being fed out of a Pez dispenser. We, of course, were the children in this little picture. And you know what they say about taking candy away from babies, right? So yeah, I wasn’t letting go. No, sir. In fact, the only way they would be taking this away from me is over my dead body.
After a classroom lecture, we started with a series of tests in a big oval marked out with cones to not only determine our skill level (so they can divide us
“To say the Corvette is just a great car is like saying Elvis was just a great singer. They are far more than that”
into groups), but more importantly, for everyone to understand the sort of chaos that rests just beneath our right foot. It’s important to know this because it will catch the uninitiated off guard and things could get pretty messy. Best way to think about it is like a firing range. Know your weapon first. They actually encourage you to stab the throttle and feel the rear end kick out. Because only once you lose it in a controlled setting will you start giving it the respect it deserves.
Once they were satisfied that we understood and respected the power, it was time to head out to the 2.2 mile-handling course. Led by world-class instructors and race car drivers, we were divided into our various groups based on skill or experience levels, shown the lines, and given a chance to explore the limits. I lined up behind champion race car instructor Georges Ramirez, who was being led by the Corvette instructor. It was a small convoy of three. This is just another way of saying, I’m screwed.
I tried not to show fear because I know these guys can smell it. And I didn’t want them to dilute it for me. I wanted to flirt with the limits. I was just afraid of the commitment. Yes, I’m still talking about the car here. Because this here was no joke. 455 horsepower was not exactly earth shattering, but when trying to keep pace with two professional race car drivers in one of the ultimate racing machines in a world-class racing facility, the reality was, even if I kept up, could I keep my breakfast down?
The ‘ Vette was brutal, but still felt civilised, thanks to a gamut of technology competing against you to make sure you don’t overcook it. Acceleration came on like a tsunami and felt relentless all the way up to 180km/h before it started to even feel like it was starting to break a sweat. Impressive, yes, but I expected that. We all did. That was written on the box. The ‘ Vettes have always prided themselves on summarising the whole brand experience in 4.5 seconds.
But what I didn’t expect was the movement. The choreography. The gracefulness as you shifted the weight and turned into a 145km/h corner before another sudden change of direction, then hitting the anchors for a hairpin and then balancing it out of the corner. Each attribute on its own was impressive enough; seeing it happily married together was like watching Miss America break into fluent German in the Q&A portion.
But that was exactly how this ‘ Vette has evolved. All-American as it may be, it was no longer just the one-dimensional sports car that stole our hearts. Just like America had to grow up to be one of the most diverse cultures, so did the Vette. It needed to be more to more people, and it had risen to that challenge, becoming a finely-tuned driving machine that speaks several languages. And one of them will soon be Filipino, as it makes its way to our roads by November of 2018.