Leno: The Gulf Between Feeling Fast and Being Fast

This story first appeared in the November/December 2024 issue of Hagerty Drivers Club magazine. Join the club to receive our award-winning magazine and enjoy insider access to automotive events, discounts, roadside assistance, and more.

Aaron Robinson’s recent story about the Miura reminded me that years ago, I was the opening act for the great jazz musician Miles Davis, who had a lime-green Lamborghini Miura. Herbie Hancock was also in the band, and he bought a Cobra. In fact, Herbie still has it—he’s got to be the longest original owner of a Cobra of anyone in the world. It’s just a 260 with a two-barrel, but Herbie would race it against Miles as sort of a joke and routinely beat him, and Miles would get furious that he got blown off by the Cobra.

Not that a Miura wasn’t fast in its day or thrilling to drive. I got my first one almost 40 years ago, and I promise you, they are a hoot. The engine’s carburetors are ­basically your headrest. But nowadays, when we have Toyota Corollas with 300 horsepower and Corvettes and Challengers with over a thousand, a Miura actually isn’t all that fast. Which is fine for someone like me, who is not a race car driver and who believes that it is much better to feel fast than to go fast.

Maybe the ultimate car for feeling fast is a Morgan 3 Wheeler. A few years ago, I was absolutely flying down a mountain road in the Morgan when I rounded a corner and saw a cop. Figuring he had me dead, I pulled over at the next corner, but he never came after me. So I went back and asked him why, and he said, “You weren’t speeding. I had you at 37.” Thirty-seven! I thought I was doing 80!

Not that I don’t enjoy driving swiftly, but I don’t enjoy driving irresponsibly. I’m the type of person who worries I’ll hit the proverbial school bus full of nuns. There are a lot of fast cars around the garage, but whenever I’ve been tempted to nail it, I think of that Swedish video-game guy who broke a Ferrari Enzo in two in Malibu back in 2006 by hitting a telephone pole at 160. I don’t want to be that guy. You don’t want to be that guy. Or the guy who spins out his Mustang into oncoming traffic coming out of a car show.

Or the kid from a couple years back who was doing over 100 in a BMW and killed four students who were crossing Pacific Coast Highway not too far from here. Now he’s probably going to prison, maybe for the rest of his life, and four young people are gone. It’s horrible. That’s why I don’t drive fast on public roads. It’s also why I don’t get this obsession with open-road top-speed records. Back in 2020, a car went 331 mph on a road in Nevada. OK, you have a car that can go 300-plus—but eventually you’re just going to kill somebody or go to prison. Or kill yourself because you cheaped out and bought tires that aren’t rated for that speed.

People don’t realize how important tires are. In 2005, I was part of a crew that took a Porsche Carrera GT down to Talladega. I was running at 190, and as the tires began to wear, you could feel the car moving around a bit. After a few laps, I was coming down the straight at about 190 and a guy waved me to bring it in. I just took my foot off the gas and—ZIP!—the rear end spun around. Luckily I didn’t hit anything, but when I came in, somebody offered me a roll of toilet paper in case I needed to clean myself up.

Fourteen years later, I was in Detroit to drive the 2019 Corvette ZR-1 at 200 mph with the chief engineer, Tadge Juechter. Before we went out, I asked him to tell me about his first time going over 200. He said, “This is it—I’ve never even been close.” I stammered, “So lemme get this straight, your first time going 200 is with a retired talk-show host and comedian on a track the comedian has never seen, who is almost 70?” He said, “Yep,” and we went out and ran laps at the GM proving ground, with 212 being the highest we got. The amazing thing is that we were having a relaxed conversation because the tires and the aerodynamics had come so far since the Carrera GT that 200 felt like nothing.

But it’s not nothing, and I occasionally remind myself that a wreck at even half that speed leaves behind only very small pieces. That is, if I don’t get a massive ticket. I’ve met a lot of cops over the years, some on the side of the road. Many of them are car guys, and I think if they bust you at 20-over out in the middle of nowhere, they’ll go easier than if they catch you at 10-over weaving through traffic. But I haven’t been pulled over in years, partly because I love driving cars that feel much faster than they really are.