Jason Harper
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I’m going in excess of 100 miles per hour when I glance in my rear-view mirror. A police van is behind me. I step on the accelerator -- yes, accelerator. Yet, it’s still getting closer.
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Step into the $285,000 Bentley Mulsanne and odd things happen. Your heart rate drops. The softball-sized knot between your shoulders shrinks to a marble.
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The navigation system in the latest Mercedes-Benz CLS AMG uses the word “please.” Perhaps other turn-by-turn systems also use niceties, but I’ve never noticed.
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My life is in Jim Swett’s hands. With his boot heels hanging over the edge of a cliff, he’s standing right in front of my Land Rover LR4 trying to figure out if I can make the next turn without tumbling into the abyss.
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It’s 3 a.m. and we’re in the airport parking lot in Long Beach, California, hollow-eyed after delays turned the flight from New York into a 12-hour ordeal.
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I want to like the Chevrolet Camaro. I really do.
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Sleek. Few words are as overused in describing consumer products. A superficial term often applied to overpriced objects that turn out to be obsolete in six months.
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Put the BMW 1 Series M in a lineup of small sporty cars, and you’d choose it as the vehicle most likely to have taken performance-enhancing drugs.
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Click-click-clack! Click-click-clack! This is the sound of destruction, the noise of the rolling treads of a 54-ton military tank. My tank.
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There’s something about the desert that always makes you feel like you’re crawling along, even in a 556-horsepower monster like the CTS-V Wagon. Even with the accelerator sunk to the floor, Joshua trees swing slowly by, supplicating arms outstretched to the gray, turbulent sky.
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City of Malibu, may I introduce the Lotus Evora . Evora, meet Malibu, which, among its many charms, has miles of magnificent mountain roads curling above the Pacific. The kind of roads you were designed for. Kismet!
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The 2011 Mini Cooper S Countryman is a big Mini. Big, of course, is relative in this case, but this new four-door’s size rankles purists, who point to the name of the brand itself. You can’t have a super-size Mini.
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Stealth wealth. What else to call the phenomenon of deceptively simple $15,000 Hermes Birkin bags, or customers requesting Tiffany purchases in plain brown shopping bags rather than the iconic blue ones?
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