2008 Cadillac CTS V6 DI: The horror, the horror
December 22, 2008
What you see above you is an approximation of what Detroit looked like last Friday, and through much of the weekend that just passed. I apologize for the lack of an actual photo. The thing is, I've been a little too busy trying to not die and/or get somewhere or another in the Caddy.
Remember how in my last installment of the Cadillac CTS long-term blog, I described the car's Michelin all-season tires snow performance as "Fair?" Yeah well, I take that back. I'm now deciding whether their snow performance would more accurately be described as "Useless" or in the words of (I think) Emerson Fittipaldi "The Tires, They Are Sheet!"
Possibly the tires are more worn than their 20,000 miles would justify due to stunts like the one pictured below.
And I grant that no car or truck was exactly at the top of its game in the rapid-accumulation 10-inch mess of snow that fateful Friday. But the Caddy would have been down-right scary, had it been able to get going. Once stopped, the CTS' rears simply did not have the grip to get rolling, no matter how carefully I applied the power. On my lonely six-mile commute to work, I got stuck no fewer than three times. And I don't mean that the car fell off the road into a ditch. No, no, I was simply stuck feet into an intersection, furiously rocking the car between drive and reverse. Twice I managed to free myself. That was embarrassing enough for a guy who grew up driving Mustangs and MGs in this garbage.
The true humiliation came when I made it part way into a busy intersection and a large fin of snow/slush brought me to a halt as I was trying to turn left and I sat there through two traffic-light cycles before one of the guys whose path to work I was blocking got out of his Grand Cherokee and pushed me out. The shame.
The saving grace was that the CTS carries California plates. I was therefore a Californian in the minds of those I'd inconvenienced. And Californians are a breed of cat, expected by Michiganders to be situationally inept and lacking in fortitude. So as I drove away, I waved to my savior and said, "Thanks, um, dude."
I drove the wife's all-wheel-drive, snow-tired family truckster for the remainder of the weekend. And I will continue to do so in heavy snow unless or until we get some snows on the Caddy. --Daniel Pund, Senior Editor, Detroit at 20,620 miles