stephbg | On power and control

I've been putting it off, but today I finally took Husband's new wheels out for a spin. It's a 2006 Hyundai Elantra 2l 4 cylinder automatic. I've been driving manuals for about 17 years, with one or two brief exceptions. With the exception of cruising for a parking spot or navigating in heavy stupid traffic on twisty dark roads, I usually enjoy driving.

I confess I did get Husband to back the Elantra out of the drive for me, because he'd parked it with bent wheels and I didn't want my first act to be a meeting of car and garden wall.

The very first thing I did when I got in was extend my left leg to depress the absentee clutch. This was my usual method of assessing the seat position. Tsk, I told my driving brain. You'll have to pay more attention than that.

I started the engine without any trouble, and it rumbled quietly to itself. Right, I thought, here we go, and attempted to engage drive. It didn't want to engage drive. By way of an experiment I depressed the foot brake and released the handbrake. The car claimed a victory over humans and allowed itself to be put into drive.

I allowed myself a moment of academic satisfaction. No matter how many people I'd asked about driving an automatic, not one had mentioned this important little fact. I love cognitive psychology, it's so beautifully reliable.

I then went for a tour of the back streets, crescents and roundabouts before heading up to the freeway for a short stretch. Perhaps the most disturbing thing about the drive was controlling my left foot when coming to a halt. Car motionless + foot motionless usually = stall = embarrassment at traffic lights.

The second most disturbing thing was the automatic transmission which was what I was there for. I hated it. Actually 2nd and third prizes are a tie between the transmission and the engine. Distant, whiny, powerless. Yes, the speedo told me I was doing 70 or 100 or 50 as appropriate, but I couldn't feel it in my seat, my hands, my brain, my heart. It was doing the job without me, and I didn't trust it to respond in an emergency.

It did accelerate on request, but it was hard to tell. What was the road like? Would it really give me the power I needed at a pinch? Would it sound like it was complaining all the time? Maybe the "gears" would give me that control, but I wasn't in the mood to experiment on Hepburn Road.

I got home, parked nicely and escaped as quickly as possible. I felt powerless and unclean. I grabbed my keys and leapt for my trusty 1996 Hyundai FX Coupe 2l 4 cylinder manual.

It immediately felt heavier, rougher, lower. It growled and purred like a hungry panther. I wound it up, settled in for the ride and took it for a fun little drive. The sound of the engine pleased me. The revs sang in the key of my choice. I felt the response of the machine through every part of my body. I knew where the road was. The car did exactly what I asked it to, and eagerly. I felt like part of the machine, yet all animal. I felt like a driver.

So, car hire company, next time you try to "upgrade" me to an automatic, you can shove it (*&*^%(^&..............................................................

We apologise for the loss of transmission