1967 Chevelle Malibu 4 Door Sedan on 2040-cars

Auto blog

2015 Chevrolet Corvette Z06

"Corvette" has stood for American muscle, American sports car, and American supercar. In many cases, it still stands for America: liberty on the go, LS-powered freedom. There was also a time when it meant really impressive numbers that didn't equate to really impressive handling, and a not-so-nice cabin. The handling issue really turned the road-legal corner when the C5 Z06 was introduced in 2001, and by the time the super-duper ZR1 ended its run in 2010, Corvette had exorcised practically all of its dynamic demons. But when I took a seat in the 2015 Corvette Z06 on the first day of my week-long loan, I espied a few demons still squatting in the interior. When colleague Seyth Miersma drove the Z06, he wrote, "Listen, I'm not going to be the guy that dogs the Corvette for having a cheap-feeling interior, this generation has put those once-legitimate claims to rest." Well, I am going to be that guy, because I don't think those claims have been put to rest. One day Chevy will give us leather that looks and feels like leather, instead of the astonishingly thin hide that is laid directly on top of the instrument panel structure. This material was set off by white stitching, but there were no seams, just a trail of white stitches. In some places it was hard to tell where the leather ended and the plastic began; or it might all have been the same upholstery, I don't know. Five dollars of foam padding would add five thousand dollars of luxury to the cockpit. One day Corvette will have plastics that don't look so plasticky. I know General Motors can do it. And after years of thinking Corvette seats were too wide and flat, this latest Z06 is almost there. The seatbacks were nice, but the exaggerated side bolstering on the seat bottoms was too narrow and sharp. That's a personal preference, though; other drivers with thinner thighs will think differently. My complaint isn't that the interior isn't luxurious, it's that it's not luxurious enough. If Chevrolet was worried about pricing, it could add some kind of profligate package to the options list. Have some ex-Porsche people design it, call it the Teutonic Splendor Package, slap a massive price on it, and count the money. People will buy it, and no one will ever have to say again, "But the interior..." That said, this test car's cabin had every feature I wanted. The gauge cluster was bright, crisp, and readable in every shade of daylight.

GM’s move to Woodward is the right one — for the company and for Detroit

Back in 2018, Chevy invited me to attend the Detroit Auto Show on the company dime to get an early preview of the then-newly redesigned Silverado. The trip involved a stay at the Renaissance Center — just a quick People Mover ride from the show. IÂ’d been visiting Detroit in January for nearly a decade, and not once had I set foot inside General MotorsÂ’ glass-sided headquarters. I was intrigued, to say the least. Thinking back on my time in the buildings that GM will leave behind when it departs for the new Hudson's site on Woodward Avenue, two things struck me. For one, its hotel rooms are cold in January. Sure, itÂ’s glass towers designed in the 1960s and '70s; I calibrated my expectations accordingly. But when I could only barely see out of the place for all the ice forming on the inside of the glass, it drove home just how flawed this iconic structure is.  My second and more pertinent observation was that the RenCen doesnÂ’t really feel like itÂ’s in a city at all, much less one as populous as Detroit. The complex is effectively severed from its surroundings by swirling ribbons of both river and asphalt. To the west sits the Windsor tunnel entrance; to the east, parking lots for nearly as far as the eye can see. To its north is the massive Jefferson Avenue and to its south, the Detroit River. You get the sense that if Henry Ford II and his team of investors had gotten their way, the whole thing would have been built offshore with the swirling channel doubling as a moat. This isnÂ’t a building the draws the city in; itÂ’s one designed to keep it out. Frost on the inside of the RenCen hotel glass. Contrasted with the new Hudson's project GM intends to move into, a mixed-use anchor with residential, office, retail and entertainment offerings smack-dab in Detroit's most vibrant district, the RenCen is a symbol of an era when each office in DetroitÂ’s downtown was an island in a rising sea of dilapidation. Back then, those who fortified against the rapid erosion of DetroitÂ’s urban bedrock stood the best chance of surviving. This was the era that brought us ugly skyways and eventually the People Mover — anything to help suburban commuters keep their metaphorical feet dry. The RenCen offered — and still offers — virtually any necessity and plenty of nice-to-haves, all accessible without ever venturing outside, especially in the winter, but those enticements are geared to those who trek in from suburbia to toil in its hallways.

Artist imagines eerie world where cars have no wheels

The wheel ranks right up there with the telescope and four-slice toaster in the pantheon of inventions that have moved humankind forward. But what if a circle in three dimensions had never occurred to anyone, and we all had just moved on without it? Perhaps we'd be driving around in Lucas Motors Landspeeders with anti-gravity engines. Or maybe we'd have the same cars we do today, just without wheels.
That's the thought experiment that seems to have led French photographer Renaud Marion to create his six-image series called Air Drive. The shots depict cars throughout many eras of motoring that look normal except for one thing: they have no wheels. The models used include a Jaguar XK120, Cadillac DeVille (shown above), Chevrolet El Camino and Camaro, and Mercedes-Benz SL and 300 roadsters.
Perhaps one day when our future becomes our past, you'll be able to walk the street and see with your own eyes the rust and patina of age on our nation's fleet of floating cars. Until then, Monsieur Marion's photographs will have to do.