THE adrenaline rush of driving has existed since cars first took to the road.
Toad of Toad Hall’s famous fictional exclamatory shout, “Poop! Poop!” as he shot down country lanes in his brand new motorcar is an expression of unfettered joy similar to that experienced by many car enthusiasts at one time or another.
And this feeling — the actual thrill of driving — is communicated to the driver through his or her “connection” with the car, which in most cases starts with the engine. This might come from the humblest runabout but a tuned, beefy V6 displacing copious brake horsepower is going to reach parts of the human body quicker than you can think: hence the rush of adrenaline.
I have fallen under the spell of this jump-start to the system while at the wheel of this week’s drive, the Nissan 370Z Nismo Coupé.
This car is no Ferrari, but it pushes all the right thrill buttons at a fraction of the asking price of the Italian stallion.