The prodigal Si has returned! Having spent an introductory afternoon with it shortly before sales started, we already knew that the 2006 Honda Civic Si was a screamer. Our preview post was packed full of praise for this new pocket-rocket’s poise, power, and appearance. Now, after a week’s “work” with this little wonder, evaluating the practical as well as the emotional, we can only reaffirm our earlier opinions, adding the occasional observation about how easy it is to live with, too. For such a little car, there’s an awful lot to love about the Civic Si.

That in itself is something of a feat, considering the lackluster reception the last-generation Si received. As the millennium turned, it was, that the 7th iteration of Civics debuted; although excellent on the whole, the bad-boy of the bunch suddenly became boring. Commonly credited with creating the ‘rice-rocket’ craze, Honda confused the tuner crowd by circulating a Civic Si that was completely un-cool. Sold solely as a stubby 3-door, sporting 160 horses, and shod with dinky little 15-inch rims, the last Si seemed somehow less sporty than its predecessors.

All that has changed for Generation 8. Disturbing memories of the dumpy design and deficient dynamics are suddenly done with, relegated to mere irrelevancies in the face of this fresh redesign. Restored to its proper coupe configuration, the 2006 Civic Si reclaims every crumb of its former glory, and then some. Lean, low, and lithe, is the look now. Still small, the Si somehow evinces a powerful presence. Standard 17″ rims, that sleek spoiler, and a purposeful stance speak of a self-possessed poise and prowess that mere pretenders cannot match. Aerodynamic to the extreme, it appears able to outrun a supersonic airplane with ease.

Rarely does Honda disappoint; deception is not this brand’s domain. Thus it is no surprise that the Si performs as well as its appearance implies. It shoots to 60 mph in 6.6 seconds, and feels like it could turn on a dime at that speed. Steering and braking are immediate; the tiniest trace of input in either system is implemented instantaneously. The epitome of agility, this is the essence of motion, distilled to its most basic and raw form.

At the core of this car is a thoroughly electrifying engine; 2.0 tiny liters of free-revving VTEC exhilaration. Redline is a stratospheric 8000 rpm, and this naturally-aspirated animal is eager yet even up to the very end. Output is 197 horsepower, at only 200 rpm short of redline, and although the bulk of this powerband is clearly beyond the 6000-rpm cam boost, there’s always enough brawn on tap to bully the Si’s wispy 2,800-lb. body around. Torque, too, appears inadequate; but the 139 lb.-ft. figure doesn’t tell the true story–the 2006 outshines any older Si from a standstill.

Few cars can claim the level of responsiveness that the Civic Si can. Powerhouse Porches and Lotuses and so on out-handle our little Honda, yes, but besides such purpose-built purebreds, the Si’s prowess is unmatched. It feels like a 7-10ths scale Corvette; equally capable in most contests, yet more portable and entirely more practical.

The Si’s suspension setup is standard sporty-car stuff. Up front is a control-link Macpherson strut system; rounding out the rear is a reactive-link double-wishbone design. Sturdy stabilizer bars at both ends secure sideways motion, measuring 28/17 mm. front/rear. Riding the road is Michelin Pilot Exalto rubber in a 245/45 ratio. The most remarkable piece is an electric-assist-type rack-and-pinion steering system. Working in concert with the low weight and swift powertrain, these modest mechanical bits make for a sharp and spirited chassis.

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All the more a shame, then, that such superior skill is marred by such merciless torque steer. We’d beg Honda for a limited-slip differential, but the Civic Si comes with one–it’s just not up to the task of harnessing all those horses. Peeling out in a power-mad puff of smoke, the tires seem to be screaming as much from lateral motion as forward acceleration. A firm grip on the steering wheel is required here; or you’ll sideswipe whatever’s sitting alongside you before you make it across the intersection.

Otherwise, gripes are few and far between. We did feel like the Si’s 6-speed stick-shift could use a taller sixth gear; the close-ratio unit calls for near-constant shifting and causes the engine to spin at 4000-plus rpm at freeway speeds. Elsewhere, everything is in order; our opinions are overwhelmingly positive. Even the trunk proved pleasantly surprising; 11.5 cubic feet of cargo room might not sound spacious, but it can pack an impressive amount of stuff.

In fact, the Si’s interior on the whole is as welcoming as it is innovative. 83 cubic feet of passenger space in a compact coupe is commodious indeed. Particularly praiseworthy are the Si’s seats; the front buckets are accommodating enough to allow for anger-free all-day motoring, and yet supportive enough to firmly infix occupants in no matter how much fun you’re having behind the wheel. The back bench also seems well-bolstered, although the additional support makes the 5-passenger capacity claim less than believable. At least there is room enough for adults in all 4 outboard positions.

More remarkable than mere measurements, though, is the modern motif of the Si’s cockpit. Especially arresting, the dual-level dashboard centers the tachometer directly in the middle of the traditional gauge cluster, while positioning the speedometer several inches upward, nearer to the driver’s line of sight. Contemporary conveniences like an auxiliary input for external mp3 players, a sliding armrest, a tilting/telescoping steering wheel with audio controls, red ambient lighting and an extra 12-volt power outlet complete the state-of-the-art theme. High-tech, high-fashion, and entirely hip.

Our tester was also equipped with the new Honda navigation system, which we rate as one of the most useful and user-friendly of the breed. Data entry is by touch-screen or joystick operation, and the user interface is generally intuitive. A 350-watt audio system is integrated into this unit, and the sound from the 7 speakers (including subwoofer) is superb. As befits such an avant-garde automobile, it accepts all mp3 and WMA audio files, and particularly progressive is a PC-card slot that takes SD-RAM, CompactFlash, and other digital media, supplementing the CD deck. XM Satellite Radio further expands the aural options.

“Safety for Everyone” is Honda’s latest mantra, and the Civic Si wasn’t ignored in this respect either. 6 airbags (front, side, curtain) supplement the auto-tensioning 3-point seatbelts, while active headrests counter whiplash concerns. ABS and EBD augment the 4-wheel discs (11.8 vented front; 10.2 solid rear) as well. Conspicuously absent is any sort of electronic stability system; in our opinion, it isn’t needed.

The 2006 Honda Civic Si starts at $20,290. Sure, standard Civic sedans and coupes sell for $6-7 grand less, but the Si yields spirited performance that surpasses the price. An extra bonus; at 23/32 mpg city/highway the EPA says the Si’s economical efficiency still exceeds standard sports cars. Honda’s latest Civic Si may well be the best bang out there for $22,240 bucks.

The product portfolio at Mercedes-Benz has proliferated rapidly in the last few years. New models from the C-Class Coupe to the savage SLR have kept the brand abreast of the niche-market trend. Still, there is no other model that so inherently defines Mercedes than the E-Class. Buttering the Benz bread for decades, the E makes up approximately 25% of their annual sales. Sedan or wagon, V6 or V8, rear- or all-wheel-drive, the E-Class is the world’s pre-eminent luxury car. We just got to spend a week behind the wheel of the popular 2006 E350 4MATIC iteration.

The E350 replaced the E320 last year, when Mercedes began building the new 3.5-liter V6 powerplant that resides under the hood of not only this line, but several other Benz models as well. This new engine comes just in time, as mid-size sedans from more plebian automakers are gaining power in leaps and bounds. At 268 horsepower, it’s 20% more powerful than its predecessor, and boasts 258 lb.-ft. of torque as well. Propelling the E’s 3,700 pounds to 60 m.p.h. in just six and a half seconds, it’s certainly an improvement. Moreover, the new motor maintains the legendary Mercedes smoothness, while fuel economy remains unchanged at 19/27 m.p.g. city/highway.

E350 and E500 models both also benefit from the seven-speed automatic transmission that caused Lexus engineers to adopt a jealous greenish hue when it debuted in the S-Class. All-wheel-drive 4MATIC models, however, carry over the previous-generation’s five-speed automatic, itself a smooth and reliable performer.

Driving an E-Class is an experience that has yet to be replicated by lesser marques. Utterly silent and buttery-smooth, the E glides over imperfections in the road like no other automobile. Solidity, another Mercedes character trait, gives anyone behind the leather-wrapped wheel of an E-Class the feeling of piloting a mobile bank vault; it’s as if the outside world were being broadcast through the windscreen on closed-circuit TV. Our 4MATIC tester further exhibited exceptional stabilityóitís seemingly impossible to perturb this car. As you acclimate to the atmosphere, you find yourself experiencing a feeling of calm and self-satisfaction that is truly rare in the motoring world.

This is not to say that the E cannot be driven quickly. Rapid acceleration is assured, especially given the new powerplant’s prowess. Cornering is no concern, either, as the 4MATIC system, independent suspension, and 245/45-17 tires conspire to grant this sedan generous grip. Steering is speed-sensitive and braking electronically assisted; both systems function effortlessly and accurately. Ultimately, the E-Class is capable of enormously expeditious locomotion. If anything, it does lack tactile involvement; Mercedes has engineered out the connection between car and driver. Powerful and proficient as it is, it’s no sports car. Being at the helm of such a machine is not an unrewarding experience; there is simply a tradeoff between sporty road feel and isolated comfort.

For those who desire a more visceral experience, an AMG version of the E-class is offered. For 2007, the supercharged V8 of the E55 is retired in favor of a naturally aspirated 6.2-liter with 514 hp. Stiffer suspension pieces, wider wheels, and so on bring the E63 AMG into league with supercars like BMW’s M5.

More pedestrian by comparison, perhaps, the E350 is still by no means prosaic. The interior, for example, is near perfection. Mercedes does the little things right; the seat controls are within easy reach on the doors, one-touch control is provided for all windows, the steering wheel both tilts and telescopes, and every hinge is silkily damped. The requisite leather and wood are of course present, all of a sumptuous quality and excellently styled. Small touches like the power-operated panel in the console, which motors open at the touch of a chrome button to reveal a storage space or the six-disc CD changer, delight the aesthetic senses. The stereo itself, a 12-speaker harmon/kardon LOGIC7 system in our tester, provides concert-hall sound quality. A power-operated rear sunshade accompanies the expected motorized seating, windows, locks, mirrors and so on, while the optional HID xenon headlights, which shift left-to-right depending upon speed and steering angle, illuminate the night as well as any auto.

Comfort-enhancing features are predictably profuse. Seating is spacious and enveloping, while optional air bladders in the front chairs can massage the lumbar area and provide active bolstering support in lateral movement. Convenience, too, is no afterthought; features such as the optional Smart Key that allow entering and starting the vehicle without removing the key from your pocket or purse make operating the E-Class remarkably effortless.

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Safety is of paramount concern in a vehicle like the E-Class as well, especially one that moves with such authority. The multi-stage front airbags are designed to deploy in degrees dependent upon the severity of impact, as measured by sensors in the bumper. Side and curtain airbags are standard as well, as are seatbelt pre-tensioners and force limiters, a rollover sensor, and stability control. If one does suffer a serious collision, Mercedes’ Tele-Aid system will provide emergency assistance. And of course, the 4MATIC all-wheel-drive system in our tester adds a distinct measure of all-weather control.

For 2007, some 2000 parts on the E-Class are either refined or entirely new. In both sedan and wagon variants, the overall styling is not notably divergent, but a more pronounced V-shaped front end, LED parking lights, and side skirts do differentiate the newer models. NECK-PRO active headrests and the PRE-SAFE system of active airbags and seats increase safety by anticipating possible accidents and preparing restraint systems beforehand. A new steering wheel graces the interior, with thumbwheel controls. Also new this year is a more straightforward control unit for the dual climate system; the previous part was not problematic but still perhaps the weakest piece inside. Changes have also been made to the rates and ratios of the active steering and braking systems, as well as the suspension tuning, with an eye towards responsiveness. This DIRECT CONTROL package should address some complaints about lack of feel.

Luxury never comes cheap, especially luxury of this level. There is added value in the prestige factor of Mercedes-Benz ownership, as well. All things considered, the stated price on our 2006 E350 4MATIC of $56,965 is not at all excessive. The E-Class brings much to the table. What’s more, the character of a Mercedes cannot been duplicated, or thus far has not, at any rate. Viewed in that light, the E-Class is a remarkable value indeed.

Fit for an up-and-coming rapper, and big enough to haul his whole entourage, the QX56 has undeniable presence–’bling’ personified. Maybe it’s that super-sized, snub-nosed grille, or the omnipresent chrome garnish, starting with the six-inch Infiniti badge, shining everywhere–this sled’s street cred is unmistakable. Still, popular culture being at best an unreliable indication of quality, the question of “is it good?” remains. The 2006 Infiniti QX56 clearly has character, but is it competent? And thus we embarked on a week’s sojourn with the full-size SUV, sizing up its suitability by the standards of everyday living, as opposed to its image.

Initially, the inevitable first impression of this Infiniti involves its immensity. At over 17 feet long and 6.5 feet tall, the QX56 dwarfs even the Yukon Denali in outward dimensions. And at a behemoth 5,700 lbs, it’s burdened with more ballast, too. Curiously, its creators have made no effort to conceal its corpulence, though; conversely the QX56 seems to be styled in such a way as to accentuate its size. Note how the arched roof, low-mounted headlamps and humped hood highlight the overall heft and height of the design.

Mitigating the overall mass, of course, is the magnitude of the QX56’s interior room. Official EPA figures put the total volume at 188 cubic feet; standard seating for seven can be supplanted by a back-row bench that bolsters the number to 8. Forward seating is as spacious as you’d expect–over 40 inches of head- and leg-room in rows 1 and 2–but we didn’t anticipate an anterior able to accommodate adults (35″ of head-room and 32″ for legs in the 3rd row ). Equally capacious, the cargo hold can stow over 61′ of stuff with the seats folded, or 21′ if the stern is occupied. Most all of those measurements top the Yukon/Suburban twins’ totals, especially in the 3rd row, although the Infiniti is trounced by GM’s stretched XL long-wheelbase editions (which are 15″ longer).

We shudder to think of the many cows that gave their lives to slather the QX56’s interior in leather, although such supple hides surely offset the bovine sacrifice. We thank the Infiniti interior designers too for trimming the cockpit in beautiful blonde wood and bits of billet aluminum. Improved as the home-country’s competition now is, the quality materials Infiniti equipped the QX56 with easily eclipse the opposition. Appreciated also are the abundant storage alcoves and astute ergonomics engineered into the interior. Clever cubbyholes in the dash and overhead, plus channels alongside the center console, are ideal for collecting the typical in-car trivialities. Ample compartments under the armrests in the first two rows are scaled to accept laptops, and 4 12-volt outlets provide the power. 12 cupholders ensure nobody goes thirsty.

Also fitted to the QX56 is one of our favorite features–and one we find all too rarely–height-adjustable headlights. A simple switch allows drivers to lower the super-bright Xenon HID beams for city cruising, and raise them in darker, more deserted settings.

A DVD player for the kiddies in back is one of the few optional accessories, as is radar-based Adaptive Cruise Control, satellite radio (either Sirius or XM), and a sunroof.

Otherwise, the roster of standard equipment adorning the Infiniti QX56 is impressive. Most prominent is the navigation system, which suffers from an outmoded point-and-click interface–with too-tiny controls–instead of the more modern touch-screen. To its credit, it’s integrated with a rear-view camera that automatically engages in Reverse, which makes parallel parking easier and presumably prevents you from flattening your neighbor’s cat.

Power-folding rearview mirrors are another great gadget included with our Infiniti that we wonder why we don’t see more often. Ever-present electric motors save the effort of opening and closing the liftgate, too; that plus power-adjustable pedals make the QX56 short-people friendly.

Oddly, the Infiniti QX56 is missing some of the minutiae endemic to most modern luxury vehicles. Keyless entry, for instance, is de rigueur, but the Infiniti’s separate fob/transmitter and key lag far behind the prevailing trend–where everything’s in one piece, which never need leave your pocket or purse. Rear passengers can choose their own settings, but dual-zone climate controls are absent up front. Cooled seats are also unavailable, as are heated chairs in the 2nd and 3rd row. Despite the steering wheel-mounted buttons for audio and cruise controls, the dashboard itself seems somehow antiquated, with its outdated orange illumination and analog clock. Even the rear windows don’t warrant automatic up/down ability. At least the stereo system is state-of-the-art; audio quality from the Bose amplifier and 10 speakers is absolutely superb, and the 6-disc deck accepts mp3s.

We didn’t expect much from the QX56, in a driving-enjoyment kind of a way, although we’ve been a fan of Nissan’s 5.6-liter V8 that is the beating heart of the Titan, too, as well as this Infiniti and its Pathfinder Armada sibling. It was a pleasant surprise, then, to find the 315-horse, 390 lb.-ft. motor remains a potent performer in this application. As it turns out, this luxo-barge only gives up about 600 lbs. to the Titan, and the added avoirdupois doesn’t asphyxiate the all-aluminum engine as much as we anticipated. We clocked the QX56 at 7.4 seconds to 60 mph, which whips other full-size SUVs (excepting the new Denali and Escalade, when equipped with the 403-hp 6.2-liter).

Even saddled with the four-wheel-drive system, the QX56 feels as fast as a freight train, although not exactly in a quick, nippy way. Engine response is somewhat reluctant, and despite the displayed redline of 6200 rpm, it won’t rev past 5800.

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Road manners are also refreshingly refined in the Infiniti. It leans and rolls, of course, although less than similar-sized SUVs with equally unwieldy centers of gravity. The four-wheel double-wishbone independent suspension setup, plus stabilizer bars front and rear, merit most of the credit for the QX56’s composure; rack-and-pinion steering, with a responsive 19:1 ratio, earns the rest. It all adds up to a level of poise unexpected in this segment. Push it, and you can outmaneuver not only most other SUVs, but many cars as well. A word of caution: coarse roads can shake the QX56’s confidence; cornering becomes chancy on crooked tarmac.

We didn’t dare endanger our tester in any seriously dangerous off-roading, but from our days driving the Titan in the backwoods, we can deduce that the QX56 would display confident dignity and deportment in the dirt as well. We can report that the Infiniti’s $3,000 4WD system is sturdy, yet simple to operate, with a single switch to select rear-wheel-drive, automatic 4WD, or dedicated 4WD in high or low ranges. A good compromise between sidewall stiffness and suppleness; 18″ rims and 265/70 rubber split the difference between ride, handling, and off-road-ability. Skid plates are fitted to every 4WD QX56, taking lumps for the oil pan, fuel tank, and transfer case.

Braking performance is passable, considering the portly proportions, at about 140 feet 60-0 mph. Each hoof is shod with vented discs; an alphabet soup of acronyms–ABS, EBD, and BA (Brake Assist)–augments stopping ability, with a little VDC (Vehicle Dynamic Control) tossed in for good measure. We’d still want a whole lot of room, were we utilizing the QX56’s 9,000 lb. rated tow capacity. At least we’d be assured of a level ride, thanks to the standard air suspension.

Brobdingnagian though this beast may be, SUVs of this breed are a valid vehicular choice for certain consumers. Economy be damned–we averaged under 14 mpg–if your routine requires 8-passenger room and regular off-road runs, the Infiniti QX56 is a smart selection. At least that dismal mileage is offset somewhat by a fair purchase price–the $49,800 MSRP is a solid value.

Roadfly has offered a community events calendar since late 1999. Unfortunately, we have not updated our event calendar software since its initial release. Ouch! The feature was very much in need of an overhaul. Over the years members have made a number of excellent suggestions for improvements we should incorporate into our next software release. We are proud to announce our new community events calendar. Thanks for your patience.

The new events calendar is vastly better than the old system. Here are just some of the key features:

• No login or registration required to post your event;

• Events can now be edited;

• Delete your own event;

• Easily upload an image with your event post;

• Easily link to your event website;

• Anyone can add comments to your event post;

• And many more features and improvements.

Roadfly’s Automotive Community Events Calendar

After spending a week with the 2007 GMC Yukon, we wonder how much better this brawny sport-utility vehicle can get. With everyone’s eye on the pump and truck sales slowing, some observers are predicting the end of the American SUV. But the Yukon is GM’s latest and slickest weapon in the war to save the American truck, and we are here to tell you that it is a big gun indeed.

The new Yukon has big-time road presence thanks to its massive size and slab-sided design. However, it forgoes the Mad Max styling of its sister truck, the Chevy Tahoe, in favor of a more restrained look. The headlights are taller than the plain black grill, making the Yukon look more like a decaffeinated version of GM’s own Cadillac Escalade than anything else. From the rear, the Yukon still carries the DNA of past big GMC trucks, with its blacked-out D-pillar and taillights that run all the way from the bumper up to the rear glass. Down to the last detail, the Yukon’s styling is quite clean, with very little clutter and no silly adornments.

True to American form, the Yukon’s powertrain was the first thing that grabbed our attention once we turned the key. Ours came with the top-of-the-line motor, a 5.3-liter V8 with 320 horsepower and 340 lb.-feet of torque. The 4-speed automatic’s ratios are well matched to a vehicle of this size, so the Yukon is never caught flat-footed, and the 3.73 rear end probably doesn’t hurt either. The sound from this evolution of GM’s trusty corporate V8 is throatier and meaner than in their previous big SUVs, so we spent a lot of time mashing the throttle and grinning like a bunch of teenagers.

Despite its muscular motor, the Yukon is innovative in the area of gasoline consumption. The optional 5.3L V8 in our tester has “Flex-fuel capability” – which means the truck will run on E85, an environmentally friendly mix of ethanol and gasoline. E85 is the subject of a new push by automakers – most of all GM with its “Think Green, Go Yellow” ad campaign – to put E85 on the map. At 85% ethanol and 15% gasoline, it burns much cleaner than regular pump gas, and is an easily sustainable fuel with less geopolitical guilt than petroleum. Our Yukon also came with “Active Fuel Management,” GM’s cylinder deactivation technology. Four of the V8’s cylinders shut down whenever they’re not needed, which increases the Yukon’s fuel efficiency considerably, especially on the highway.

All of this will give potential buyers a little wiggle room with the neighborhood Green Police or an environmentally conscious spouse. Using E85 may not improve your mileage over standard gasoline, but since it is rated at 106 octane, engine performance will be better. We’re willing to bet that government subsidies and tax breaks for alternative fuels will make E85 even more attractive. Our hat goes off to GM for thinking green on a large vehicle that could be vulnerable to criticism on the subject of environmental friendliness.

American ingenuity abounds in the rest of the Yukon as well, and is demonstrated most ably by the truck’s cupholders. The ones in the center console in particular are incredible, offering a level of versatility that no focus group could have thought up. They can be moved, removed, or backed up by adding more. It’s a fantastic execution of the cup holder, and we’re sure there will be legions of copycat systems from across the Pacific soon enough.

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Sure, Detroit practically invented the cup holder and the roaring V8, but how does the rest of the Yukon stack up against its Japanese competitors? For starters, the interior is stunning. SUV interiors have been gradually catching up with their luxury-car stablemates, thanks to the influence of luxo-utes like the Lincoln Navigator and GM’s own Cadillac Escalade, the true daddy of luxury trucks. That Escalade is now in its third generation, and GM’s expertise in outfitting it has fully trickled down to the rest of the company’s SUVs. The Yukon’s interior is plush and has shed the cheap touches that drew criticism for years until this redesign. We at Roadfly predict that those gripes will cease definitively when the automotive press really gets their paws on this refined, evolved SUV.

Our Yukon tester had the “SLT-2 Décor” package, a $4500 option that gives you leather seats, as well as a third row of seats that will seat two. We recommend this package for those buyers looking for a little extra luxury, as it bumps the level of creature comforts up substantially. Heated seats with 12-way adjustability and memory, tri-zone automatic climate control, and a remote starter are just a few of the options included in the SLT-2 package. For those buyers with children and long-distance needs, we think it’s well worth the extra coin.

On that note, our Yukon also had its entertainment system kicked up a few notches. It came with a CD/DVD/MP3-capable head unit, and one of the best navigation systems we’ve tested, ever. We give it an A+ for ease of use, and thanked the sultans in Detroit for not copying iDrive type systems. Having a killer entertainment system in a car is pointless if the driver is not able to use it safely and efficiently, and GM deserves major bonus points for taking that into account. It was a $2,145 option, which may make the decision difficult for some. However, having had the experience with the upgraded system, we’d certainly spring for it, even on a motor-journalist’s paycheck. Our Yukon also came with the rear-seat entertainment system, a $1,295 option and a worthwhile upgrade for parents.

GMC didn’t exactly send us their bargain-basement Yukon. In addition to almost $3500 in entertainment and electronics upgrades, our tester was shod with 20-inch polished aluminum wheels. These rims give the truck a healthy dose of curb appeal, and for the paltry sum of $1,795, you too can roll on 20s just like your local NBA star. We also got a power, sliding sunroof, but for $995 we would have liked it to be a bit larger. Our tester also came with some other convenience upgrades, like a power release for the second row of seating ($425), and a power liftgate ($350) that can also be operated manually without any fuss. Neat stuff, to be sure, but our Yukon’s final tab came to $50,425. That’s hardly chump change, but if you want to pinch pennies you will be looking elsewhere anyway.

Our gripes with the Yukon are few, since we have already mentioned the smallish sunroof. Given this SUV’s large dimensions, rear-seat legroom could be better. We hear that GM will be redesigning the Yukon’s rear suspension soon, which will improve high-speed stability and handling characteristics. Emergency lane changes were not as confident as we would have liked. All in all, though, this is a great SUV, easily the best Yukon yet. Time (and gas prices) will determine the future of this class of vehicles, but GM has pulled out all the stops here. The 2007 Yukon deserves a long, hard look from anyone looking to buy a full-size SUV.

Oh, joy! The 2006 Mazda RX-8 is in the fleet, and all is right with the world. One of our perennial favorites, it’s a serious sports-car with soul to spare. Mazda has done a lot right with this car–and it all starts with balance.

Round it up a couple of tenths, and the RX-8’s weight distribution ratio ranks at an optimal 50:50 front to rear. A few other stars in the sports-car field come close, but nothing approximates the balance of the RX-8, at least for this kind of dough. Arcane though it may sound, you really can feel the perfection in this Mazda’s personality; it seems perpetually centered no matter how precarious a position the pilot has put it in. We’d go so far as to state that in this price range–affordable for the common man, that is–there is no better-handling car, bar perhaps the impractical Lotus Elise. Hustle the RX-8 through the hairiest of routes, and even a moderately-skilled driver will find heretofore unrealized confidence, skill, and enjoyment in the act.

There’s nothing magical about the Mazda RX-8’s on-road prowess. No magnetic fluid to stiffen the shocks every second, and no motorized sway bars tilting the chassis against G-forces. It’s all standard suspension stuff, just done well. Double wishbones up front and a multi-link setup in back form the basis for the suspension, with stabilizer bars and a strut tower brace for refined response. The hood is formed from aluminum for weight savings. And a limited-slip differential augments traction under throttle, while a direct-drive steering system, electrically assisted, imparts that inspirational road feedback.

Even the rolling stock is straightforward. 18-inch rims and 225/45 rubber are really commonplace by now, but the RX-8 never runs out of grip. Even the brakes are typical for this type of car; all discs with ABS and EBD. A tire pressure monitoring system is standard, but Dynamic Stability Control is optional–in our time with the RX-8, Mazda’s DSC proved generally noninvasive; it only triggered once or twice when pit-like potholes pulled traction from a wheel.

Lest you begin to think Mazda’s got a plain-vanilla road-runner here, there is one area where the RX-8 differs hugely from the pack. Under that lightweight hood is a Wankel-design rotary engine, unique to Mazda and a couple of other obscure marques. Essentially a large, triangular rotor in a tube, there are no conventional pistons or cylinders. Combustion takes place in the spaces on each side; intake and exhaust valves are arrayed around the tube, turning the rotor.

Mazda calls their latest version of this type of engine (last seen in the third-generation RX-7) the RENESIS, for obvious reasons. It’s a twin-rotor design, displacing a mere 1.3 liters. Despite the small size, 232 horsepower and 159 lb.-ft. of torque are on tap. Rotaries also allow for freer revving; the RX-8 redlines at 9,000 rpm. It’s a hoot to drive, and easily motivates the 3,029 lb. Mazda.

The rotary’s basic advantage over standard internal-combustion engine is compactness and low height. The small size and low height of the RENESIS is mostly responsible for the RX-8’s balance; mounting low and rearward (toward the center) makes for an excellent center of gravity. You’d expect such a diminutive motor to make good fuel economy, but you’d be wrong. EPA figures are 18/24 mpg city/highway, although at least ours, averaging 17.6, didn’t prove a whole lot thirstier than rated (as many sporty-cars do).

Unless you lost your left leg in the war, you shouldn’t buy a car like this with an automatic. That’s doubly true in the RX-8, where the automatic earns you a penalty of 20hp below the superb stick-shift. Detuned though it is, at least 2006 models now get 212hp, instead of the 197 of the first year, and the old 4-speed slushbox is replaced by a paddle-shifted 6-speed.

Realistically, the RX-8 is distinctive not only for what’s under the hood; this Mazda’s styling and layout still turn heads even after 2 years on the market. The exterior is bold, even brash–a testament to the individual. The interior, trite as it may sound, fits like a glove. It’s not tight or uncomfortable; contemporary and cozy would be more apt. Bold red accents set off the black background, and circular and triangular motifs recall the motor’s rotor shapes.

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Actually, it’s the layout which is likely responsible for a lot of RX-8 sales. Of course, RX-7s were traditionally 2-door coupes, with pretend rear seats thrown in apparently as a joke (unless you regularly carry around a couple legless people, in which case you could maybe use them). The new-for-2005 design eschewed impracticality, however, but hung on to style. Popularly called a “suicide door” setup, the RX-8 features four hatches; two of which are small, rear-hinged, and accessible only when the fronts are open. Small, sure, but they swing wide, opening onto two supplementary seats with actual legroom. Sized for a standard teen, adults can squeeze in back behind even six-plus-footers for short sprints. Officially, head room is almost equal, at 38/37 cubic feet front/rear; legroom is tighter but still useable at 43/32. Pack lightly, though–trunk space is a sparse 7.6′.

Priced at just over $26,400 to start, the Mazda RX-8 merits serious consideration from motoring enthusiasts. Quick and incredibly agile, it’s easily the most fun to be had at that cost. Options, like our tester’s Grand Touring package’s power, heated, leather-trimmed seats; 300-watt Bose sound system; moonroof; stability control; xenon HID headlamps and “smart key” system with the credit card-sized fob that stays in your wallet are relatively inexpensive and well-executed as well. Still, that stuff’s superfluous; speed and sportiness come standard.

This was supposed to be the BMW-beater. Lexus aimed the IS development target squarely at the 3-series, and made no bones about it. The cognoscenti met this contention with skepticism–seemingly every carmaker has claimed to have conquered the kingpin Bimmer at one time or another, and yet the 3-series remains the performance paragon. In the interest of settling the dispute–for our own edification, if not for the record–we spent a week behind the wheel of the 2006 Lexus IS 350.

That the IS was conceived solely to shore up the sporting side of the Lexus brand is evident in the existence of the ES 350. Practically, either one negates the justification for the other; they both fill the entry-level slot nicely. At first glance, the IS and ES share similar dimensions inside and out, and weigh about the same 3,500 lbs. The distribution, though, gives an insight into the disparate nature of these cars–at 61/39 front/rear, the ES350 is clearly less balanced than the IS, rated at 52/48.

Exterior styling further separate the littlest Lexi (?). While the pillowy ES is soft and bulbous, the IS is chiseled and sharp. Connoting forward movement and thrust, the IS’s angular appearance couldn’t be less like its sibling’s. Cool, commanding and contemporary, it carries over little of the previous car’s characteristics, save for its spirited stance. In case you’re thinking we’re being coy, we’ll clarify: we like it. In the natural comparison to the 3-series, it’s a close call–but we’d pronounce them practically on par.

Lexus’ ‘relentless pursuit of BMW’ is understandable, given the 3-series’ reputation and regard among performance-lovers and poseurs alike. It’s also one reason the decision by the brand’s brass to eschew manual transmissions in the more-powerful IS 350 line is so hard to comprehend. Only the 204-horse IS 250 is offered with a stick-shift; the enthusiast’s-choice IS 350 is relegated to a six-speed slushbox. On the bright side, the automatic affects an adequately athletic persona, with crisp shifts and an electronic brain programmed to rev without reservation and grab each gear vigorously. Paddles for swift shifting reside behind the steering wheel. For an automatic, this tranny turned out to be pretty fun to flog.

In fact, our IS 350 proved pleasantly competent in most respects. That new V6 is a humdinger; hewn entirely out of aluminum and harnessing all the best benefits of today’s technology–direct injection, variable timing on intake and exhaust valves, and a stratospheric compression ratio of almost 12:1. Horsepower is rated at 306; torque peaks at 277 lb.-ft. Redline is 6600 rpm, and it sings all the way up there. Silky-smooth and split-second responsive, speed is only one of its virtues.

And speedy it is. Our tests turned out an average 0-60 mph sprint of six seconds flat. At any speed, in any gear, the IS 350 accelerated with alacrity. Swiftness is only part of the story, however; as a rival to the reigning performance ideal, it needs verve and vigor in every element.

Happily, hustling the IS through the back roads demonstrated copious cornering capability. Graced with grippy 225/45/17 front and 245/45 rear rubber, this Lexus grabs the road and doesn’t let go. (40-series tires and 18″ rims are optional.) The suspension setup consists of double wishbones up front and a multi-link system out back, supplemented with gas-filled shocks and stabilizer bars all around. Subjectively, the IS feels supremely well-sorted–and yes, it feels like it could be a match for the BMW. This car likes to be driven hard.

Braking comes courtesy of beefy vented discs measuring over 13 inches up front and 12″ in back. Stopping power is subsequently superb. Steering is similarly sublime–it’s a rack-and-pinion setup with speed-sensitive electric-assist; it specs out with a 13.4:1 ratio, 2.91 turns lock-to-lock, and a turning circle of 33.5 feet. Precision is the watchword here. Feedback from the road is satisfactory, although this may be one area where, comparatively, the IS falls short.

On an incongruous note, the IS 350 interior shares a Lexus trait that’s far from sporty: the labeling on the switchgear, buttons and other controls is HUGE. The stereo, climate controls, and even the window switches are all in something like 22-point. Picky though it may be, we’ve never seen such geriatric text in any other vehicle–especially one with sporting pretensions. Somehow, it makes you feel as if you’re driving the ‘large-print edition’ IS. Weird.

Otherwise, the IS’s insides are first-rate. Aesthetically, the two-toned color scheme is attractive, accentuated by appealing arches, curves and accents in wood and aluminum. As expected, the materials and ergonomics are excellent.

Copious room and comfortable seating was an unexpected positive point. Compared to the new 330i we previewed last year, the IS interior is downright cavernous. Lateral support suffers a smidgen, but overall we prefer the Lexus cockpit.

Lexus’ superiority in interior sumptuousness should not surprise. Even entry-level models are well-equipped, with leather upholstery, 10-way power seats, moonroof, cruise control, dual-zone climate control, and even a “smart key” system with push-button engine starting–all standard. At $35,440, the eager-engined IS 350 is an excellent value. Our tester showed up with a lot of optional extras as well, pushing the pricetag to $43,589; the bulk of which is attributable to the Luxury package and navigation system. Amenities like Adaptive Front Lighting (AFS, somehow), which slides the xenon HID headlight beams sideways with the steering wheel; rain-sensing wipers (kinda scary when they first activate, honestly); power rear sunshade; heated and ventilated leather seats, with perforated inserts for the cooling fan; park-assist; power tilt/telescope wheel; Bluetooth and voice command; little headlamp washer nozzles; and trick scuff plates with the Lexus script backlit in blue all add to the opulence.

And then there’s that nav system. In our estimation, Lexus equips its line with the best of the breed. Touch-screen ability makes data entry a snap–why are other manufacturers so far behind on this? The Lexus unit is intuitive, too–for once, we mastered the system without the manual. Take heed, carmakers: this is the benchmark.

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Plus, Lexus adds a rear-view camera to their nav system, which projects an image of the space behind you when backing up.

Occupant safety wasn’t overlooked, either. Lexus fits the IS with electronic features like VDIM (their stability/traction control system, the acronym for which always strikes us as unfortunate) and anti-lock brakes with EBD and brake assist. 10 airbags augment the force-limited, pretensioner-equipped seatbelts–front, knee, side and curtains for front driver/passenger; curtains only in the rear.

So, does the “benchmark” label apply to the IS as a whole? Lexus brass would sell their collective souls to wrest that title from BMW. To recap, our review ranks the IS 350 right up with the 3-series in most dynamic measures, about equal in styling, and ahead in comfort & convenience. We do decry the missing manual-transmission option, though. Not to cop out, but we can’t positively proclaim either car better than the other. A definitive verdict in a match like this demands much more scientific scrutiny–or at least both cars back-to-back. Truth is, our own opinions are largely subjective, and preference is, like beauty, in the eye of the beholder. For our money, though, we’d be just as happy with the Lexus–especially at the sticker price, which we’ve pegged at $2,000 to $7,000 cheaper, depending on options.

A convertible Volvo? In “Passion Red” paint? We know; unexpected to say the least. And yet, it isn’t at all incongruous. When the spanking-new Swede showed up in our fleet, we’d already heard the major talking points: folding metal roof, T5 motor, manual transmission, marginally affordable sub-$40K pricetag. All pluses, to be sure, but uttering the words “Volvo” and “desire” in the same sentence still took practice. It was practice we were more than willing to commit to, though, once we laid eyes on the 2007 Volvo C70.

Yeah, it looks good. And what’s more, it makes anyone behind the wheel look good, too. Think of a silky new jogging suit, (or a sexy new pair of stiletto heels, for the fairer sex) done up in bright red and made with exquisite skill. There’s nothing outrageous about the actual design–this is a Volvo after all, and immediately recognizable as such–but it is sleek, aerodynamic, and sporty. Even outfitted in a less arresting hue, this Swede’s shape would be inarguably attractive, contemporary, and attention-getting. And as a premium car, there’s an air of exclusivity about it; tolerances are tight, and the paint shows the deep luster and flawless sheen that can only come from expert application and a generous number of coats.

Central to the C70’s appeal, of course, is that trick new folding hard top. In place, it looks like just a new Volvo coupe, albeit one with a heretofore unseen rakishness. The lines that break them up are almost imperceptible, but the entire roof structure is actually made up of three separate steel panels. Push the button on the center console–no latches to undo–and the sections articulate up and sandwich themselves into the trunk. That boot actually has hinges at the rear to accept them, and once the operation is complete, not a hint of exposed machinery remains.

As for the C70’s cockpit; imagine an S40 upholstered by a surfer in love with his wetsuit. Seats, door panels, the dash and most of the console are constructed of spongy rubber/plastic, and covered by a water-resistant fabric Volvo calls Vulcaflex. On the upside, it’s as grippy as suede, seems as sturdy as vinyl, and connotes both costliness and functionality at once.

A real headliner is built into the roof sections; a gray canvas-like affair that’s easily as nice as the cloth liners that sometimes are fitted into higher-end drop-tops. Convincing enough to mimic a conventional coupe’s ceiling, only when it rains does the amplified splatter give away the thin, hollow nature of the structure. Watching the whole apparatus in action is an awesome affair; onlookers were both impressed and in some cases incredulous. (One girl likened it to a prehistoric pterodactyl unfurling its wings.)

The remainder of the interior is archetypal Volvo. The somber charcoal color scheme, complemented by green instrumentation and ambient lighting, could even be characterized as monotonous, but any tedium is thwarted by the trick soft-touch treatment and clever center console. Yes, the C70 shares the waterfall-style aluminum sculpture that serves in the S40 as well. Audio and climate controls reside here, in a thin, sloping panel, with empty space behind, for a cell phone, perhaps. Like the shifter area and footwells, that unexpected cubby is lit with concealed emerald glow.

As for the requisite gadgetry and so forth that a forty-thousand dollar car demands, that convertible top is clearly the centerpiece. Little else in our Volvo was remarkable–although everything worked well, while giving a whiff of expensiveness. The expected power windows, locks, mirrors and seats were present, although the lack of heating elements in even the front thrones surprised us–and not just because this is a car prone to exposure to the elements. An admirable standard audio system assuaged this affront to an extent; the 6-disc CD changer is augmented by a 4 by 40-watt amplifier and 8 speakers. Sound quality is superb up to almost supersonic levels, and we especially appreciated the ability to set front and rear equalizer preferences, in addition to standard bass and treble adjustments. Mounted in the steering wheel were handy controls for volume and track/station skipping, opposite buttons for the cruise control.

Otherwise, our Volvo offered few high-tech amenities. Basic halogen headlights shone bright enough, we never got lost despite not having a navigation system, and as much as we like the new ’smart key’ systems, we found physically turning a key not too inconvenient.

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As a matter of fact, after evaluating so many luxury cars, crammed with the latest in expensive (and trouble-prone) bells and whistles, we actually found such simplicity a refreshing experience. The C70 proved straightforward and practical, with clever touches where they counted, and an absence of extraneous content. For instance, we appreciated the copious cubby-holes–neat “Kangaroo Pouch” pockets in the front seats and trick pop-out pockets for rear passenger–and convenient cupholders for all four occupants. In another thoughtful touch, additional switches for forward/backward movement are atop each front bucket, next to the seatback-release levers–allowing the rear passenger to power the seat forward when exiting, further aiding egress.

Even the tilting and telescoping adjustments for the steering wheel struck us; so many new models lack this simple feature. Also inexplicably lacking in even contemporary cars costing twice as the C70, we welcomed the automatic up/down feature at each window, and embraced the extra driver’s-side switch for raising or lowering all the glass at once. The sharp Swedish engineers even managed to confront the cargo-room challenge endemic to convertibles through a couple of tactics. For long, narrow items like skis, a lockable pass-thru panel is secreted in the rear seatback. And particularly impressive is the ingenious design of the trunk, where an inner panel partitions off a cargo compartment under the folded roof. Six cubic feet of cargo room are thus always available; top up, the plastic divider swings up and out of the way, allowing all 12.8′ to be exploited.

We weren’t sure what to expect when we slid behind the wheel of this new Volvo. One the one hand, the brand’s brass has been busily pushing its swift and sprightly spirit; on the other, under the brightwork and brawn, it is a Volvo. True, the Swedes have sent us a tiger or two in recent times–think S60R–but still, the tenets of safety and security have overshadowed any focus on style, sportiness, luxury or other trends Volvo may have attempted. And as much as we liked this powertrain in the S40 a couple years back, we couldn’t predict how much the twin peccadilloes of the drop-top–added poundage and amplified chassis slop–would spoil its personality. After all, the convertible hardtop system requires a significant 3,772 lbs. versus the S40’s 3,278, harnessed to the same turbocharged 2.5-liter.

The 218-horsepower output sounds somewhat tame, in truth, and the inline 5-cylinder’s 236 lb.-ft. of torque doesn’t astound, either. In practice, however, the Volvo’s motor proved plenty powerful. Turbo lag turned out to be totally noninvasive; there’s tire-spinning torque to be had at take-off. Thrust intensifies as the revs rise, for sure, although this isn’t the typical throttle-it-to-redline turbo. We recorded 7.2 seconds as our best 0-60 mph run.

Our tester’s manual transmission definitely had much to do with this Volvo’s muscular tone. Six forward gears, spaced evenly for smooth acceleration from stop to almost the 150 mph top speed, made the most of the available grunt in every situation. Sadly, the shifter showed some slop in every slot, save reverse, and could cause a missed shift now and again. We found further fault with the front-drive layout’s fragrant torque-steer; we frequently found ourselves a few feet to the right under fierce acceleration. A limited-slip differential would be most welcome here.

Dynamically, driving the C70 split the difference between the deportment of a BMW 3-series and, say, a Chrysler Sebring. We never outstripped the Volvo’s grip–provided by 235/40 rubber on 18″ rims that were the only option on our car–and we never really wanted to. It handles with aplomb, but not the self-assuredness of a strict sports car. It never felt out of its depth, but then again, it never encouraged us to push its limits that far. Passengers proffered praise for the supple ride, though, which remained persistently composed. Among the high-end convertible segment, the C70 is probably most alike the Mercedes SLK; powerful and competent, but not completely comfortable carving corners. For the vast majority of owners, the Volvo is as agile a vehicle as they’ll ever need; those who crave the very edge of driving excitement are likely looking elsewhere anyway.

At the far edge of the segment are the probable buyers for this toy. Folks who frequent Volvo stores still seek the security of a safe automobile as their foremost concern. Continuing to cater to their chief market, Volvo crammed the C70 with airbags at the front, sides, and curtain areas. Countering whiplash with active headrests in the front buckets, the C70 itself is constructed of High-Strength Steel in certain key spots to form a safety cage structure. Rollover worries are relieved by rigid A-pillars surrounding the windshield, while headroom integrity in the rear is ensured with pop-up roll bars. Vented anti-lock disc brakes at all four corners–11.8″ up front, 11″ in back–provide drivers with plentiful deceleration capability, and Emergency Brake Assist is there to use it if you won’t.

One more positive point, which we hadn’t predicted–fuel economy. In many miles of mixed driving, our C70 managed 22.5 mpg. Slotting in between its official EPA figures of 21/29 city/highway, that number is doubly impressive considering how hard some of our “test” drives are.

Really, it didn’t take long to become accustomed to the Volvo C70. In fact, we were pained to see it go. Something of a study in contrasts, it showed itself to be not only sexy and safe, but mildly sporty as well. Beginning at $38,710, the C70 should, perhaps more than any other model, bring buyers into Volvo dealerships who by and large wouldn’t consider the brand. Those willing to take that leap will find a comfortable, competent, and entirely cool convertible and coupe. Congratulations.