If I'm being honest, I had a tough time giving the Macan Turbo back on Monday morning. Tallying the numbers, I'd spent a total of 20 hours in the car over the weekend.
I took my friends to dim sum in the pouring rain. We drove around Chinatown for two hours looking for a garage in gridlock traffic. I kissed 90 mph going over the Williamsburg bridge. I gave a ride to a beautiful woman who was late to an appointment. I watched planes line up to land at JFK through the massive sunroof. I explored parts of New York City that I'd been neglecting due to laziness.
Most of these aren't things that I would have done in my Dad's '76 911, not by a long shot. But that feeling he was talking about, that feeling of bonding with a machine, having an intimate moment with someone else's creation, was right there the whole time.
Ted Gushue is the Executive Editor of Supercompressor. His Dad, Ron Gushue, still hasn't forgiven him for the transmission incident. Read his ongoing apology on Twitter @TedGushue