Best Black Blast!

WE TOOK A PORSCHE, A BMW, AND AN ALPINE FOR  A DRIVE IN THE BLACK FOREST. WHO WILL COME ON TOP?

I woke up at around 2am to the sound of a loud bang coming from out of the window. I’m not easily awaken – a capacity my wife had long detested – so it must have been going on for some time. I get up and open the window to a raging hurricane and a broken, thick wooden shade. I wrestle with it for a few long minutes. Finally, I manage to anchor it wide open against the outside wall of the castle. When we got to our hilltop hotel outside Baden Baden earlier that evening, everything was calm and pleasant. Naturally, we paid no heed to the “Hurricane-force” wind alert from our weather app. I fall asleep thinking, “did we park our Boxster, M2, and Alpine near a tree?

If you can’t be smart, be lucky

When morning came and the storm had died down, we waded through a chaotic mix of brown leaves and broken branches. I slept well, I always do, but the others didn’t. One of them tried unsuccessfully to pick the lock to my room and shut the damn banging shade (which indeed had been banging for quite a long while). Apparently, the Germans build much better locks than shades.

The Windek Castle sits on top of a hill overlooking the Rhine valley. It’s a beautiful 13-century structure made even more striking by the heavy, dark storm clouds above and a background of the fire-colored forest at the peak of its foliage. Beautiful as it is, we didn’t come all this way to be inspired by South German scenery.

We rush outside to discover, to our great relief, our three sport rentals parked where we left them, covered only with wet leaves rather than with a broken trunk of a massive, old-growth Oak. We fire up the engines of our BMW M2 Competition, Porsche 718 Boxster, and Renault Alpine S. Then, we all switch to Drive and carefully maneuver our way on a road strewn with storm debris.

The setup

It was only the previous weekend that our group of usual suspects decided spontaneously to venture out again to four days of driving nirvana in our favorite European playground. The short recess between the Delta and Omicron waves secures rock-bottom costs. We quickly closed €45 round trip tickets to Badan-Baden airport (how convenient) with Ryan Air (not so convenient, but for that money, you can’t really complain, can you?), and then went to explore our rides. This proved to be a bit more challenging. You see, besides messing up our lives, COVID also messed up the rental car business. Our favorite agencies; Avis Prestige, Hertz, and Sixt, were entirely out of any dream cars whatsoever. We eventually settled for a smaller agency called Driverso.

If you read the first Black Forest guide, you will know the perils of renting fast cars from small firms. To our credit, I can say that the rental prices were very reasonable. We read most of the fine print and haggled over the cost of all the extras, and… well, we really had no other choice. So, with a substantial leap of faith, we committed our credit cards and secured our cars. All that was left was to pack and hope none of us got sick before the flight.

A German Storm

Coming out of the Karlsruhe/Baden-Baden Airport on a beautiful late fall afternoon, my weather app showed an ominous warning sign. My stomach churned as I clicked to see what the fuss was about. It said, “Hurrikane-force winds” expected tonight.

I always thought Hurricanes were limited to the Caribbeans and Southeastern US. “Perhaps these are just an exaggeration,” I thought as we boarded the Taxi and headed to our nightly retreat. The weather still looked fine as we arrived at the beautifully-located  Burg Windek Hotel. Built on top of a hill, The establishment surrounds an 800-year-old castle. All in all, very photogenic and promising. We didn’t know then that “Windek” in German means Windy Place…

The following morning

Wading our way through the storm debris, we discover – to our great relief – no tree has chosen our rentals as a final resting place. We quickly clear the leaves and muck off our vehicles to find a Bordeaux-Red 3.0 Liters straight-six M2 Competition, a Bright Red basic Porsche 718 Boxter with 2.0 Liter flat-four, and a white 1.8 Liter straight-four Renault Alpine S.

The BMW M2 Competition

I enter the Bimmer to find a very familiar, austere interior. Clearly, BMW was investing elsewhere. Having owned both the Original M2 and currently the M2 CS, I quickly settle comfortably in the driver seat and press the red start button. While the 405HP engine (de-tuned version of the previous generation M4) burbles at the front, I take the time to have a 2^nd look around. The M2 interior has dated considerably. This shouldn’t come as a surprise, given the BMW 2 series – on which the M2 is based – first rolled off the assembly line back in 2013. The material and build quality are superb but too dark and spartan. The instrument panel is analog, and the only LCD screen is in the middle console.

Undoubtedly, the Bimmer’s interior hasn’t kept well with the change of times. The exterior, on the other hand, still retains all of its original charms. It has all the right proportions, with just the right amounts of feline suave and bad-boy swagger. The M2 Competition looks so good that even the horrible Bordeaux body paint and the so-so alloy wheels dim nothing of its overall looks.

Our rental has a dual-clutch system BMW calls “DCT,” a good transmission system overall. The current DCT generation is an improved version of the hateful DCT we experienced in the previous generation M4. Still, this is not the telepathic Porsche’s system (which Porsche calls PDK). Why every car brand has to come up with different acronyms for the same exact transmission is beyond me. Peeved for not having a proper manual, I shift the leaver to Drive, release the handbrake, and pilot the 1.6 tons vehicle away from the car park and into the narrow, debris-strewn road.

Slowly driving uphill towards the main B500 road, I’m impressed to see the fastidious German maintenance crews already at work clearing fallen trees, fixing road signs, and mending broken fences. By the end of the day, all storm signs will be relegated to memory. Thinking of the time it takes to fix a pothole in my home country makes me envious of a nation that takes such good care of its public infrastructure. Speaking of envy, I’m driving an M2 competition on empty Black Forest road. Some may say this fact alone, by definition, is enough to deprive me of any resentment rights. I must admit they may have a point.

Back to Black – B500

Back to the road, we take the route to the small town below – Buhlertal. Then, we turn right at the town’s center into a short, narrow section leading up to B500. The B500 is the main road traversing the top of the Black Forest mountain range from Baden-Baden in the north all the way to Titisee in the south. Like the spine of a fish, the B500 divides the Black Forest into two halves, each with numerous minor driving roads running from the B500 down to the narrow valleys below. Some include the B500 in their list of top driving roads in Europe. Driving it numerous times, I beg to differ. Committing to it means going at speeds that are simply too fast and too dangerous for all parties involved. The only section of the B500 that is truly enjoyable is its top-end leading to Baden-Baden.

Turning left at the junction leads us precisely to that part – 5km of downward, beautifully paved twist and turns all the way to the city outskirts. Watching out for the speed camera just before we hit town, we turn right towards the village of Oberbeuern. We drive (slowly) for 2.5km until we turn at the exit towards Forbach. There await 13 glorious twisty kilometers of Wagnerian proportions.

The BMW has an engine like no other car in its category. It is meaty, with plenty of low-down torque, and rev-happy up to the red line limiter. True, the sound from the engine and the quad exhausts could be better. Alas, this is but a small price to pay for the capable twin-turbo system that delivers lots of “oomph” on-demand, at any rev, and with almost no turbo lag to speak of.

If there ever was a German muscle car, the M2 Competition with its S55 3.0L straight-six is it. I just wished it had better brakes. Ours feels a bit flimsy and inadequate for the size (and weight) of our lady from Munich. They also feel a bit soft and worn out. You can hear them screech uncomfortably as they try to slow down the massive car. It’s hard to commit the M2 when you cannot rely on its ability to stop if needed.

Landing (somewhat breathless) at the village of Forbach, we take it easy through the narrow main street leading to the busy B462 main road. The following 5km are spent behind a slow-moving truck, but we don’t mind much, as each passing kilometer brings us closer to one of our favorites – road L83. This piece of tarmac snakes its way up from the valley to the top of the Black Forest, where it meets back with B500. The road was made to service a big dam and surrounding campsites. Following a hurricane-force storm, however, it is unsurprisingly deserted. We stop at the dam one-third up the 12 km route to marvel at the striking autumn scenery. We also notice something’s missing.

It’s the Alpine. There’s no sign of it.

In search of the Alpine

We wait a bit, then wait a bit more, this time anxiously. Then, fearing the worst, we backtrack our way until we discover it, safe and sound – minus a blown tire. A result of an unfortunate union between the car’s front right wheel and sharp stone – a likely leftover from the torrid night before. Our two stranded friends greet us as saviors. Apparently, the area between Oberbeuern and Forbach has no cell reception. We call the agency that promptly sends a crew with replacement tires at no extra cost (very nice of them). When they arrive, they install winter tires instead (bummer!). Still, it could have been a lot worse. By all reasonable standards, we can call the incident “a close shave” and move on.

Speaking of close shaves, the Bimmer brakes are pretty much gone. A quick look at the front calipers reveals a four-piston standard M2 kit rather than the more-appropriate six-piston “big brake” system from the M4 Competition. The brake pads are gone too, with only one last millimeter left. We call the agency again, which directs us to a service station near Stuttgart, some two hours drive – in each direction. The following day we will make the arduous drive there and back, but right now, there’s no time to waste.

Inspired by Top Gear, we leave the Alpine team behind to wither away, waiting for the service car to arrive and replace their tires, and shoot onwards towards the depth of the Black Forest. The M2 sets an incredible pace through the bends which the Porsche finds difficult to match. Yet, something is missing. The M2 feels less connected and sorted out than what I’m used to back home. Perhaps it’s the stability control that cannot be switched off completely (which one can understand, given this is a rental, prone to mishandling). More likely, however, are the 78,000 hard kilometers this specific vehicle had to endure. The whole car feels more than just slightly used – it feels abused.

Midway Schwartzwald

Wolfach is the perfect stopover after a day full of driving. Situated ideally between the northern and southern Black Forest playgrounds, it sports a picturesque main street and a host of lodging and dining options. We spontaneously call one of the many lodging establishments for a nice, clean (and dirt-cheap) Bed & Breakfast. Approaching the car park driveway, we navigate a steep incline that slightly scrapes the undercarriage of our cars. A quick look reveals a few minor scratches to the lower part of the front spoilers. Nothing to write home about. Or so we think.

The following morning we wake up to a misty mix of red-roofed houses surrounded by orange-green mountains rolling into the horizon. “Just a perfect day,” I hmmm the tune, happy I don’t need any substance addiction to enjoy it.

The Porsche 718 Boxster

I grab the keys to the 718. It has the same car-like design – a unique Porsche trait. We love it. Indeed, some things need no changing. I  settle deep inside the driver’s seat of the small red Porsche. Like the key, the interior hasn’t changed either. It’s the same interior I remember from our first venture to the Black Forest back in 2013. The material and assembly qualities are all top-notch but do show their age. In a time of screens, the Boxster dash and central console are full of buttons and switches. Some are correctly placed, and others are just scattered all over. On the other hand, the steering wheel is devoid of any buttons. It feels a bit odd at first, but once you get used to the idea, you appreciate the beautiful, straightforward setup.

The car we have is the basic 718, with a 2 Liter turbocharged engine of 4 opposite mounted pistons. We have always preferred the perky mid-engine Boxster over the larger rear-engine 911. It’s a better handling, better controlled, better communicative car. That’s not to say that the 911 is bad. Over the past six decades, Porsche engineers have managed to tame the temperamental nature of the rear-engine beast to the point of almost completely overcoming its flawed basic configuration. With the Boxster, however, they started with the proper mid-engine layout from the get-go.

Still, I have some doubts over this one. The Boxster used to have a lovely naturally aspirated 6 piston engine. Killed by air pollution regulations, the 718 replaced it with a turbocharged 4. I’ve driven the 718 Boxster S on the track and was unimpressed with its dull 2.5 Liter unit. Although it pulled very well from low down, it lacked any character on the top end. The unit just revved to the limiter with the same efficiency as an automated cashier. The one I’m sitting in right now runs the smaller version of the same engine with 300hp on tap, hauling 1,370kg of metal. Understandingly, I was a bit concerned. I turned the key and slowly drove the small red Boxster away from the parking lot onto the driveway and into the cold Wolfach morning below. Slight scratching sound below front spoiler included.

Looping around with the 718

We set our aims to Titisee in the southern part of the region. On the way, we take all the obvious “must” excursions off the B500. Don’t miss out on the loop starting from Gutach. Turn to Dorf, then to Schonach, to Triberg on the B500. Stop for a cup of coffee and some rest, and go back to Gutach. Repeat. All in all, 42km of pure joy. (You can find more information about this loop in my first Complete driver’s guide to the Black Forest)

Our target for the day is another loop starting where B500 meets L128. Leave the B500 and drive towards Sankt Märgen. Pass the town and continue on L128 until you reach the outskirts of Buchenbach. Turn left on Spirzenstraße, which will take you back to the B500 about 500 meters west of where you started. Overall these are fabulous 25Km collection of some of the best-paved winding roads this area has to offer.

As the distance to Sankt Märgen quickly disappears, so are my worries about the basic 718. Unlike its bigger S sister, this basic model is a true blast. The engine runs great and is full of character. Yes, it does have a bit of turbo lag at the lower scale of the rev counter, but otherwise, it runs (and screams) like the best of them. And while the M2 engine is in a league of its own, the smaller Porsches don’t feel underpowered. If at all, the lighter Boxster handles quicker and nimbler. Only the constantly increasing gap at the straights reminds us of the substantial power gap between the M2 and the 718.

Fortunately, there aren’t that many straights in this beautiful loop running on the side of the sloping green mountains. As a bonus, this section is covered mainly with grassland, providing excellent visibility to the road ahead and ample warning to oncoming traffic.

Though empirically not as fast as the M2, the Porsche is the better controlled and fun car to drive. Everything about it feels just right, from the absolute feedback of the superb electric steering to the well-tuned chassis and suspension. Its components work in harmony and keep the driver fully informed. Our car came equipped with the dual-clutch system Porsche calls PDK. This is a remarkable gearbox, even better than the very good one installed on the Bimmer. It is second only to the Boxster’s optional (and sublime) manual stick shift.

Basic pleasures

I have a sneaky suspicion that of the entire 718 range (and excluding perhaps the GT4), the basic 718 is the better one to have. It is just 20kg lighter than the S, but feels substantially lighter, has a better engine than its senior sister, and feels much livelier. At first, I did not understand the logic behind Porsche’s decision to release a track-focused Boxster T based on the 2 Liter basic version. Having driven it through its paces on the best roads the Black Forest has to offer, I am a complete convert. The smaller 718 is the one to have (next time with a manual, please).

The fun gets interrupted when the Bimmer’s brakes finally give up. We take the lumbering Bavarian to the distant service station and come back to meet the team for dinner at the Bella Italia restaurant in Todtnau. Hearing about the fun they had driving the Porsche and Alpine all afternoon long, I’m determined to “own” the Alpine S the following day.

The Bella Italia is a great institution run by a loving Italian family who knows their job well. Their Pizzas – baked inside a traditional brick oven – can be accurately described as world-class. No wonder we are the last to get out of the restaurant and into a bitterly cold night. As the thermometer dives ever closer to zero, we take the cars for a slow drive to our picturesque South-German Bed & Breakfast establishment, parking our vehicles in the front yard at around midnight. We go to our rooms and fall asleep faster than a Bugatti Chiron hits 0-300kph.

Winter is coming

When we wake up the following morning, the thermometer reads -2 degrees centigrade. The skies are clear, but the ground has a strange crystal white texture, and so are our cars.

We quickly consume the breakfast pastry (fantastic), and coffee (the Italians do it much better) and go out to discover the front grass and cars covered in a thick layer of ice. Everything around us has frozen overnight as if enchanted by a spell of a White Walker. “Winter is coming,” I think to myself as I approach the frost-covered Alpine.

The Renault Alpine A110 S

There’s something odd-looking – almost refreshing – about this car. Its proportions are not like any other coupe on the road. The French designers have tried their best to create an appropriate homage to the ’70s icon. That car challenged the design norms of its area, and so is this one. It’s different. Not pretty, nor ugly, and takes time to get used to. It’s best looked at from the front. Most drivers, however, will only get to see it from its bulbous back end as it quickly disappears.

Opening the door reveals a tiny interior that looks stupendous at first glance. Dominated by some great-looking bucket seats, the Alpine’s hull is ringed with bare aluminum and just the right touches of leather, metal, and plastic. The thin center console rises high between the two seats and hosts a row of nicely–looking, Ferrari–style buttons. These control the dual-clutch gearbox (The Alpine does not come in manual), the electric windows, and the ignition. The whole design feels special and fresh from the flat screen in the middle to the LED instrument panel. It should be. The Alpine S cost as much as the Boxster and, coming out in 2017, is relatively new. However, I soon discover that not all is good in the French kingdom.

Inside the Alpine S

I push firmly on the large red ignition button, and the Alpine’s engine comes to life. This specific in-line four turbocharged unit is tuned to a peak power of 292HP at 7,400RPM. The mid-mounted engine rattles behind my ears like any typical engine you may find in your everyday commuter. “Nothing special in the sound department,” I think to myself as I take my time to study the rest of the cabin. A quick look around the beautifully stitched wheel reveals some less exciting features from the Renault part bin.

The steering-mounted switchgear is the same one you’ll find in the lowly Dacia Logan. The LCD-powered dashboard looks cheap, and so does the screen on the center console. To add insult to injury, it does not support Apple CarPlay, nor Android Auto. Instead, it features Bosch’s MySpin system – a stillborn attempt at competing with the other two standards. It’s useless. The Alpine also lacks essential cabin storage (not even a glove compartment), which makes the Alpine S a less than ideal choice for a daily drive. The quality of the materials, screens, and built quality is also sub-par, even without comparison to the superb quality of the Boxster cabin. In short, the Alpine’s cabin is an outdated daft attempt at creating a cutting-edge futuristic interior. A fantastic feat of incompetence given it’s hardly five years old.

A quick click on the drive button in the central console puts the dual-clutch transmission into action. I slowly pull the small coupe away from the frozen lawn and into the cold frosty road ahead. I take it carefully at first, then, realizing the road isn’t as slippery as I initially thought, and the Alpine wears fresh new winter tires, I gather pace. When the engine oil reaches working temperature and the beautiful autumn sun warms up the cabin, I push harder on the small Alpine. It’s a disappointment.

Trying to figure out what the fuss is all about 

The electric wheel feels detached, the engine sound muted, the throttle pedal unresponsive, the gear changes slow, and the stability control restrictive. Clearly, this is not what I had expected. This would be ok for a slow ride to the office during rush hour. But we are not on our way to work, and the Alpine is a poor commuter choice to begin with. We switch to “Sport Mode” and discover a completely different car. With sharper handling, more aggressive engine and transmission management, and scaled-down stability control, we finally got the car we were waiting for.

The 1,100kg Alpine S blitzes the Black Forest like a Mormon on a mission. With a body made entirely of aluminum, and a centrally mounted engine, very few cars can change directions the way this car does. The engine, while still suffering from a noticeable turbo-lag, loves to rev all the way to the limiter. Paired with the now responsive gearbox, they play a beautiful harmony of cylinders and petrol. The Alpine S reveals itself as a truly wonderful car. Not as great handler as the Porsche, nor as brutal as the M2, the Alpine S manages to keep the pace and maintains high levels of fun. We love the small Renault, but none of us can justify its price compared to the other two strong contenders. And there’s this thing about the restrictive stability control we cannot find a way to disengage. There must be something we’re missing.

I try double-tapping the “Sport Mode” button with no results. I even look for hidden switches, but with no success. Desperate, I try pressing the Mode button for 2-3 seconds… and then magic happens!

Life in TRACK mode

The whole dash and center console screen change into “TRACK MODE,” and the devil emerges from the car’s inner workings. The Renault Alpine transforms into a road-legal go-kart on steroids. Realizing I may have a winner, I navigate the Renault to one of my favorite Black Forest loops. It’s a 21 km of tight twists that requires agility, confidence, and technical expertise to enjoy to the fullest. It starts in the village of Schönau at the intersection of B317 and L142, about 6km southwest of Todtnau.

The L142 climbs sharply from the valley to Belchen – one of Schwartzwald’s highest peaks in a series of sharp, twisty inclines. Passing Belchen, the road veers to the right, riding on the shoulder of the high mountains (try not to be distracted by the gorgeous view of the Alps on the southern horizon), declining gradually through faster sweepers until it meets with the L123. Turn right at the “T” intersection to go back to the valley below, zooming through the bends. When you get to the town of Utzenfeld, turn right and drive precisely 1km to the intersection of B317 and L142. Repeat until you run out of fuel or brake pads – whichever comes sooner. Try your best not to drool too much. (you can find more information about this loop in my Complete driver’s guide to the Black Forest – Part II).

Lessons in User Interface

Now, finally, in “Track” mode, the Alpine shines. It devours the road and takes no prisoners. The whole package works together in such a sublime way that makes you want to strangle the “UI Expert” who hid the “Track” mode setting in an impossible-to-guess button configuration. Who the hell hides the best mode the Alpine has to offer in the hope that drivers will “get it” and find the right “Track” combination by themselves?!

If this was a standard car (i.e., not French) designed by standard (i.e., NOT FRENCH!) engineers, it would have had “Track Mode” as a separate colossal button on the dash. Go figure.

Back to the road ahead, the Alpine gathers some enormous pace with the confidence and agility of a machine that was purposefully built for these mountainous lanes. The 1.8 Liter screams off the back of my head like no other four-piston engine I can recall. I don’t care if parts of the tune is a synthesized version coming from the powerful sound system. It’s an epic scream that runs the way to the limiter. The gear changes are brutal in the best possible terms. All I can think about is the F1 gearbox in the Ferrari 360 Challenge Stradale I drove back in 2006. Yeah, THAT good.

With such an orchestra, the loud gear-changing “Blip!” is a necessity, not a gimmick. The light chassis comes to life in a way that makes me suspect our car is equipped with adaptive dampers (it does not). The steering is excellent, the weight is excellent, the package is marvelous. I want to marry it and have its babies.

Time for a wrap-up

And so, every good thing must come to an end. We meet late afternoon at the bottom of Schauinsland – the 11.6km Hillclimb track of the 1930s to see which of the three cars is the one we’d like to rent (or marry. Whichever) the next time around. (you can find more information about this hillclimb in my Complete driver’s guide to the Black Forest – Part II).

I take the keys to the Bimmer, strap in and light up that extraordinary straight-six engine. As I roar up the mountain, I can’t help but owe that impressive dual-turbo engine. Lacking almost any turbo lag, it pulls off incredibly at any rev. The sound might not be as spirited, but the pull and performance are. The electric wheel and the tuned M chassis do great work at keeping the massive coupe and its smiling driver in control.

The M2 has the pace, but the thrill factor is lacking. It could be the mileage that this specific car had done, perhaps a ruined damper or a wheel misalignment. In any case, it does not feel like the M2 I have back home. Driving the Bavarian beast back to the bottom of the mountain, it gives away its 1.6 tons of mass as the brakes start to fade and wobble. I go out of the Bimmer realizing that, while it is a great driving machine in its own right, it doesn’t come up to the same outstanding levels of the other two contenders.

Time to give the Porsche another go. I hop over the closed door (hey, this is a rental) and land deep inside the driver seat of the basic 718. A few seconds later, the small rocket is flying up the mountain road to the top of the Black Forest. Driving it straight after the Bavarian beast, you can notice the difference in engine capacity and configuration immediately. While great in its own right, the 2 Liter boxer engine is no match to the smooth, linear, and straight-out-of-hell-manic M2 Competition’s S55 unit.

This is not a German muscle car, and despite the +200Kg weight difference, it does not pull up the hill as effortlessly as the monster from Munich. Thankfully, It doesn’t need to. That’s just not its game. Being the precision tool it is, the 718 cuts through the road like a surgeon’s scalpel through salted butter (choose your own analogy if you didn’t like this one).

The steering is sublime, and the chassis is full of feedback. You don’t feel like you drive the Boxster. It’s more like your brain is telling it where to go, and the vehicle obeys it as if under some voodoo mind-reading spell. It’s light, it’s agile, it’s everything everyone has ever told you about how a great roadster should be. On the way down, the brakes of the lightest Porsche dismantle the downwards momentum with ease and poise the heavy Bimmer never had. Clearly, we have a winner. But what about the Alpine S?

I grew to love the little white French, despite its faults. I ignore its tacky interior, which now – coming from the Porsche – seems even cheaper and tasteless, and accept its half-baked UI and lack of practical storage compartments. It’s a unique proposition in an age of increasing electric conformism. With its odd shape, bargain-basement switches, and light weight, it stands out like a homeless in a Michelin-starred restaurant. You fall in love with the boldness of the Alpine S and forget the rest. But would that be enough to beat the sharpest kid from Stuttgart?

Verdict

It does, and in a big way!

There’s a quarter-ton difference between the French and German sports cars. There is an unbelievable half a ton (HALF A TON!!!) difference between it and the M2. And when the laws of physics come to shine one late afternoon on a lonely Schwartzwald mountain, they beat the Germans and award the French. Collin Chapman, the legendary founder of Lotus, said that in designing cars, he “adds lightness.” It carries a simple rationale: the lighter your core design is, the faster your car will go, and the easier it would be to handle. Everyone nowadays can quote “add lightness” to the point of making it a cliché. They all make heavy SUVs these days. Even Lotus has abandoned lightness in favor of heavy, overpriced electric transports.

As fortune would have it, someone in France was still listening. They created this super-fast, super-light, super-nimble tarmac devouring machine that now runs amok like a Cessna strapped to JATO. Yes, the steering may not be as perfect as the basic 718, and the engine does suffer from some turbo lag. I know the frantic sound it makes as it races to the rev limiter is half coming through the audio system. Honestly, I don’t mind at all. My smile is just so wide right now to care about anything. Damn! It’s so broad it could probably frighten the bejesus out of Batman’s Joker.

Had the French army attacked the Wehrmacht with the same enthusiasm as the Alpine does to this curvaceous German Hillclimb, World War II would have been over in June 1940. The way down is as spirited and fun, thanks to the Alpine’s “add lightness” core design. Like any real crush, the Alpine isn’t perfect. It’s uncomfortable, impractical, expensive, cheaply built, has no manual, suffers from some severe UI flaws, and can only be enjoyed to the fullest when switched to the extra-crazy “Track” mode. But it drives like stink, steers like a sorcerer’s broomstick, and communicates with the intimacy of a concubine.

These traits alone make the Alpine a serious narcotic to anyone suffering from driving addiction. Very few cars – all of them costing way more than the Alpine – can deliver similar driving intensities. And it is this flawed package I desire the most.

Epilogue

It’s about 9pm when we meet up with Driverso’s agents in Baden Baden. The meeting point is dark, but the agents are equipped with flashlights. They immediately start to scan the cars – top to bottom. This is not your typical rental car-return checkup. They inspect every little thing inside and out as if to find some hard-to-notice tiny scratches. They even inspect the bottom of the cars, where they find the minor abrasions to the bottom of the front spoilers – a testament to that steep driveway at the B&B in Wolfach. We are a bit shocked by the thorough examination. They tell us they will calculate the damage and reduce it from the deposit. Well, we think, how much could a few minor scratches to the bottom of the front plastic cost?

We get the answers in the mail. They amount to €1,000 each. What the f***!!

We let the travel insurance take care of that and are reminded (again) that there are no free lunches. I think I will read the small print more carefully next time.

Interested in more driving guides? Have a look here (don’t worry, they don’t bite):

• The complete driver’s guide to the Black Forest – Part I
• The complete driver’s guide to the Black Forest – Part II
• The complete driver’s guide to the Austrian Alps
• Israel’s 10 top hillclimbs
• 6 Tips for doing Nepal offroad
• 7 essential surviving tips for doing India on a motorcycle (and living to tell the tale)