The speedometer needle (or digital readout, depending on the car) is moving slowly… slowly… 194, 195, 197… and then it just seems to stop. The car has to claw for every additional mile per hour, taking longer and using additional yardage to do so. You really, really don’t want to go airborne.Īt 175 mph, it seems like you’re nearly there - but you’re not. The oxygen cools the engine, yes, but it’s also tunneling underneath the car and causing lift - the same thing that causes a jumbo jet to take off. The once-soft air is now an ever-sturdier wall any gentle zephyr a gale, volatile and tricky. If you are approaching a kink in the road turn or debris or animals or, well, anything, abandon this absurd exercise immediately.)Īt 165 mph, the wind noise drowns out everything else, and suddenly the density of the atmosphere is tussling with the engine’s torque and horsepower. Eyes far ahead of you, looking to the horizon. Hands consciously light on the steering wheel. The rules: keep the car centered in the lane. The engine relaxes, and the car’s momentum begins to build again.
Wait ’til the needle gets near the redline… patience… shift. Allow your eyes to dip down briefly to the tachometer. Things can go hinky at this velocity, so try to stay relaxed. It’s a clatter, rubber clawing into asphalt in a frenzied rotation. Road noise begins to drown out the sound of the engine at 145 mph. Stretch a pinky and neatly trigger the right-hand paddle shifter. Another tick of a second, maybe two, and the car breaks the 120-mph barrier.
#HOW LONG TO DRIVE 10 MILES FULL#
The engine thrums richly, full of power and promise. One hundred miles an hour comes on easily, effortlessly, a tenor clearing his throat, Usain Bolt stretching his legs. He’s raced at Le Mans, crushed a car in a 50-ton tank, and now, he’s bringing his unique style to The Verge. This is The Harper Spin, a weekly column from seasoned auto critic Jason H.
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