Your Favorite Road Can Make You Feel Free

Sunday morning cars & coffee meetups are a high point of my week. I admit, sometimes it’s a struggle to drag my 50-year-old frame out of my warm nest—especially so early on a cold winter’s day. But the anticipation of driving one of my cars over my favorite road raises me up from slumber as if by spiritual force. Getting up at the crack of dawn and driving miles to immerse ourselves in our hobby with like-minded souls takes dedication. Of course, it’s not just the camaraderie that draws us, the car-obsessed, into the driver’s seat before dawn. The opportunity to drive our machines without the hindrance of the ordinary masses getting in our way is tough to ignore. While traffic causes stress for many of us, an open road does quite the opposite. The right car on the right stretch of pavement is, in every sense, a release.

The Routine

Getting there requires a familiar rhythm: Out of bed, bathroom visit, get dressed, peek at sleeping wife and son, down the stairs, grab a drink, out the door, and into the garage. Depending on which of my late-model GM cars looks appealing, I either maneuver into the stiff Recaro seat of my ’09 Cadillac CTS-V or slide down into the ebony cockpit of my ’02 Pontiac WS6 Trans Am. Neither car is exactly sedate upon cold start, but waking the TA’s Dynatech long tube headers and GMMG chambered exhaust briefly shakes the house. I reverse down the driveway, into the street, and I’m gone.

The Route

Nine times out of ten, I take the same route. Here on Long Island, New York, our road surfaces are not what you would call smooth—at least not the majority of them. However, there are a few that provide miles of driving pleasure.

My personal favorite among these is the Wantagh State Parkway. One of the earliest parkways on Long Island, construction on it began in 1927 with the full length completed between 1929 and 1938. Spanning 13.33 miles from north to south, the Wantagh extends from the Northern State Parkway to the entrance of Ocean Parkway and Jones Beach State Park.

Getting to the Wantagh from my house involves a roughly ten-mile jaunt on the Southern State Parkway. Sections of the Southern have recently been repaved, which to me feels like a gift from the car gods. It’s no longer a high-speed obstacle course that requires avoiding holes, big cracks, and haphazard road repairs. But I digress. Once I see the exit for the Wantagh South (27S) I take a deep breath, exhale, and prepare to decompress.

My Own Personal Nürburgring

There is a sweet spot on Sunday mornings at between 6 a.m. and 7 a.m. when local highways are mostly empty. In the late fall and winter months, you might not see another car at all. As dawn breaks, alone in my car, the muffled sound of trees whooshing by and the warm glow of the sun rising feeds my senses.

I’ve not experienced the exhilaration of driving on Germany’s Autobahn, nor on the famed Nürburgring race course, but I’ve written scores of articles that reference them, filling my mind with lofty visions. Part of that comes from owning a second-generation CTS-V; its 7.59.32 lap time at the grueling track was partly what drew me to the car. While driving my Cadillac on the Wantagh, I often imagine myself in Germany’s west, knifing through the Eifel Mountains.

Some history: The Nurburgring-Nordschleife (north loop) was finished in 1927, located outside the village of Nurburg in Germany’s west. Its 12.9 miles of asphalt and concrete are renowned for their high-speed straights, 154 turns, and steep elevations. In addition to hosting racing, the track was used as a test facility and playground for primarily German makes. Most prominently in the last few decades, many of the world’s carmakers have dedicated huge resources to vehicle development, putting high-performance models through their paces on the race circuit. This has led to something of a lap-time arms race. And if a car can handle itself well on the “’Ring,” it can tackle any road in the world.

Mission Control

The exit to the Wantagh consists of a long right turn, requiring a slight decrease in speed in order to merge. In the WS6 I negotiate this without using the brakes, instead lifting off the gas and popping the transmission into third gear. Downshifting the Trans Am’s 4L60-E offers up a guttural, back-pressured burble from the chambered pipes. As I reapply throttle, the ‘Bird’s beak raises and the Ram Air hood gulps in the wind. Now on the parkway, with one smooth movement I pull down on the indicator stalk, peek in my mirror and over my shoulder, and aim for the left lane.

This is one of Pontiac’s final muscle cars, and the experience is raw—even old-school, if that applies to a car made for 2002. The LS1 V-8 engine pulls effortlessly, and when the exhaust noise reverberates off the guard wall it sounds like a pride of angry lions. The live rear axle stays planted over the highway’s initial straights, allowing the Firebird’s tail to settle and the Bilsteins to soak up body motions. As the road curves and rises, the monotube dampers stiffen and the Goodyear Eagle F1s grip the road’s surface. The limited-slip diff and 3.23 gears are a perfect pair on the parkway, letting me stay in the throttle through every turn and crest.

If I am in my CTS-V, I have the advantage of more advanced technology. If I release my right hand from the Cadillac’s Alcantara-wrapped steering wheel and nudge the shifter of the 6L90 transmission to the right, it engages Sport mode. Pushing the center-stack-mounted suspension button summons the same calibration from the Magnetic Ride Control shocks.

Everything happens much more quickly in the V, increasing the adrenaline rush. The supercharged LSA V-8 can tap into boost instantly, forcing the 4300-pound super sedan forward like a jet at takeoff. The whine from the 1.9-liter Eaton blower fills the otherwise calm cockpit. These V-Series cars were developed and equipped to be driven at autobahn speeds; I am not advocating for that, but the Wantagh’s designer—Robert Moses—did intend that the parkway be used for high-speed, non-commercial traffic. (That means passenger cars.) Despite the 55-mph speed limit, if you’re not an attentive driver, you should stay to the right.

The Green Hell Without the Hell

It was famed British F1 racing driver, Sir Jackie Stewart, “The Flying Scot” who gave the Nürburgring its nickname.” The “Green” part describes the track scenery, snaking through the wooded German countryside. And what about the “Hell”? As he looked down on the track from the plane, amid a foggy rainstorm ahead of the 1968 German Grand Prix, Stewart quipped to fellow driver Graham Hill that the track that weekend would be the “Green Hell.” In those wet conditions, the nearly 1000 feet of elevation changes and undulating surface would be treacherous, even deadly, for drivers in the Formula 1 race cars of the day.

Of course, that’s far from the case with the Wantagh Parkway, but hopefully you’ll grant my daydreams some poetic license. With driver assistance systems like traction control, ABS, electronic stability control all lending a high-tech helping hand, my Sunday morning cruises are a thing of computer-controlled beauty.

When the everyday grind weighs us down, we all have our ways of cutting loose. For car people, that relief comes from our machines. Yes, it’s nice to proudly admire your car while it’s parked and poised in the garage. And wrenching brings its own joys. But when you want to really enjoy the fruits of car passion and put those worries in park, venture out onto your favorite road, real or imagined.