2015 Porsche Macan: To Utah and Back
April 3, 2015
There's a guy that lives in a modest white farmhouse about 50 miles south of Salt Lake City. His house is visible from I-15, as it sits just a few hundred yards west of the interstate, and it's the absolute perfect backdrop for his ride.
Yes, his ride.
Sitting in front of this man's house was his car. His beautiful car. Parked under a tree. On the grass. Within spitting distance of his front door.
There sat a near perfect replica of Bo and Luke Duke's General Lee. An orange 1969 Dodge Charger artistically festooned with a "01" on each door and the now-controversial stars and bars on its roof. I could even make out the correct push bar on the nose and of course the classic Mopar's 15-inch black and silver Vector wheels.
I was in awe.
I was driving our long-term 2015 Porsche Macan S. A wonderful machine. One of my absolute favorite cars. The Porsche is a near peerless mix of performance, comfort, sex appeal and utility.
But I was jealous.
I arrived in Park City, Utah, 703 miles from our Santa Monica office, after a little more than 10 hours behind the wheel of the Macan. It was the perfect vehicle for the drive.
First of all, its driver's seat is from the heavens. This is the way a driver's seat should be shaped. If you work for a car company, stop what you're doing and make your seats like the Macan's. Trust me. You'll be a hero.
But the Macan's extreme comfort doesn't come at the expense of fun. At the expense of the drive. This car is engaging. You know you're driving. And you're enjoying it.
It's a Porsche through and through.
Still, I was jealous.
My two-day stay in Park City was all about the General Lee. Did I really see it? Was it real? Does John Schneider live off Interstate 15 in rural Utah? I needed to know.
After 48 hours, I was determined to find out.
My return trip was just as enjoyable. About 11 hours door-to-door with a relaxed lunch stop. The Macan averaged 21.9 mpg for the trip and would burn a little less than two tanks to cover the distance.
And the General Lee was there as I passed for the second time, now southbound. It was really there. The phantasm was real.
And no, John Schneider, the real John Schneider, does not live off Interstate 15.
Scott Oldham, Editor in Chief @ 17,830 miles