Let's say a clandestine organization asked you, for your country, to "take care of" an enemy of the state at tonight's performance of Tosca at The Met. And let's say this organization gave you the choice of any Aston Martin in which to conduct the evening. Which Aston would you choose? If you said the DBS, we hope you've arranged bail. You're getting caught. Quickly.

Despite its impressiveness, the DBS is just a little over the top. Driving it says to the world, "I'm rich (or I have rich backers), I'm sociopathic (or at least self-centered), and I kill people (or I've had them killed)." There's no denying this. Attempt to pull off your mission at the opera and you'll be fingered before the body hits the ground. "It was the guy in the suit and the DBS," the rattled, blood-spattered socialites will tell the authorities just before you're whisked off to a damp, underground bunker in a country created by the breakup of the USSR.

The better choice? The 2009 Aston Martin DB9 – even the Volante. It's got just enough gentleman to remove you from suspicion, but the faintest hint of evil to make fearsome things happen when needed. We had it for a weekend, yet despite the urge and a twitchy trigger finger we never got the chance to test out our "cleaning" abilities.
Although the Aston Martin DB9 has been around for six years, we never tire of seeing it. And two years on and after seat time in a number of other magnificent cars, the DB9 Sport Pack remains one of our favorite driver's car (that doesn't really have a trunk, but we'll get to that later).

Generally, we prefer coupes, but the DB9 Volante is no poor thing to lay eyes on, top up or down. The way the fixed-roof variant's greenhouse tapers into the tail and creates those voluptuous hips is part of the car's perfect completion. The convertible maintains those crucial lines in back, and the loss of the C-pillar doesn't make it less beautiful, only different. If you're a convertible person, this is a vehicle you'll always enjoy staring at.



The center console is a fabulous upgrade over the fussy interior of the previous model. The beautiful and far simpler aluminum-accented DBS theme raises the visual and tactile game on par with the rest of the cabin, and Aston makes – hands down – the most handsome seats in the business. They're as pleasurable to sit in as they are to look at. The dashboard dials are sparkling and intricate, but the speedo has too many hash marks for us to register things quickly, so we keep our eyes to the right on the tach and the inset digital gauge. The steering wheel is the only blunt instrument in the cabin, not counting the Bang & Olufsen stereo, which is more accurately described as blunt force.

Everything is swathed in cross-stitched leather, and it is, let us say again, beautiful. It's also snug. The steeply raked windshield terminates at a point not too far from your forehead. When the top is up you get the feeling of being secured in a leather-clad vault. When the top is down, one side of the vault is open.



Just like a snug pair of jeans, though, there ain't too much room to store things. Put anything lighter than a brick in the back seat and it's going to fly away. Up front you've got a glove box that's about the size of a mail slot, and a host of small, rectangular cubbies with attached elastic straps – as if you'd have eight pens and cell phones you needed to tie down.

Not that we're going to spend too much time focused on that – we have a convertible Aston and the Eden that is Southern California to play with.

Put the key into its slot on the dashboard, press it all the way in and wait. Rolls-Royce gets credit for the term "waftability," but we have to give Aston credit for the archetypal burble. It's perfect. The car comes to life with a bark and then settles into the most honeyed warbling in the automotive kingdom. If you have an errand to run, you want to give yourself five extra minutes so you can play with the throttle before leaving the driveway.

Flip the paddle into first and pull away, and the easy spooling of torque from the 6.0-liter V12 – 443 pound-feet of it – gives you the impression you can ride a trail of clotted cream from your parking spot into triple digits. Raw grunt on the go is provided by the 470 horsepower, and the two numbers together will get you to 60 in 4.8 seconds.



Our hierarchy of preferred transmission choices goes like this: six-speed manual, five-speed manual, any-other-speed-manual, bicycle, train, bus, blank, blank, paddle shifters, walking, a hand-operated cable, riding on someone's handlebars, blank, a donkey, an automatic.

At least, it did before we sampled Aston's improved Touchtronic unit. For the first time we found an automatic vehicle that delivers fully on the promise of paddle shifting. As with the DBS Volante we drove at Pebble Beach, gear changes are immediate and, especially of note, power delivery is seamless. No jerking, no waiting, no nothing but the shifting of gears and the acceleration of movement. Superb.

The best way to stay on top of your gearing, though, is not to watch the gear indicator in the dash; it's to pull the switch and lower the top and listen to the revs from the twin pipes. The cloth top, a tad on the busy side while descending, stows in a little less than a dozen seconds.



However, except for a little more A-pillar vibration when seriously tootling, it doesn't hinder the driving experience. Aston beefed up the strength of the shear panels by ten percent and added Bilstein shocks, and the combo makes for a remarkably stiff setup that neither skates nor shimmies. Our finding was that the stereo subwoofer would make the rearview mirror vibrate more than the lack of a roof, except on the meanest stretches of freeway.

Road noise with the top up or down was fine. We could carry on conversations easily with the top in place, even though there was a little wind noise around the A-pillar that made it seem like the windows wouldn't go all the way up. Chatting was slightly labored with the top down, but fine enough to get crucial conversations conducted.

Get off the phone and get to serious pilotage, and the DB9 follows orders like a loyal adjutant. Dr. Ulrich Bez brought his Porsche instincts with him to Aston, so turn-in is practically instant and the car won't be shaken loose from its line unless you go fruitbat crazy working the pedals. The Aston swallows mid-corner bumps as well as any coupe, and pulling out of a turn could even be more fun than diving into one only because you get to hear that burble-turned-bellow of the V12 chase you all the way. And if you should happen to come to a stop after some spirited driving, the vents on the hood exhale all that warm, vision-distorting air and give you the impression you've been flogging the dark-yet-willing heart of the beast.



There are three ways to approach an Aston: as a work of art, as a functional tool or as a driving proposition. As art, the Aston is museum-worthy, and as a driving proposition it is just about flawless. With the wonder of that Touchtronic transmission, we can't even complain about not having a proper manual with which to exploit the V12.

Yet when it comes to a usable, functional space, the DB9 – as a complete work, as one coherent piece made of many parts – has the most fascinating combination of quizzical inclusions we've ever come across in a single vehicle. Of course we can't speak for long term durability, but the craftsmanship on every Aston we've been in so far has been first rate. But the key we were given was plastic. We figure it was the spare, but it felt like something out of a Barbie playset and we had to look at it every time we wanted to lock the car or open the trunk because the tiny black buttons were nearly impossible to discern. Slightly more galling was the fact that when the key is in the center-mounted slot and the DB9 is off, you can't just push the key to reawaken the V12 beast. You have to take the key completely out and then reinsert. That's annoying.

Another key note: the glovebox door is electronically controlled. If you take the key out, the glove box won't open after a set amount of time. You have to put the key back in, wait a bit and then open it. The only problem: it works when it wants to. Again, annoying, but something a simple firmware fix should rectify.



Although we've beaten this point around the head, we still haven't got over it: the trunk isn't really a trunk, it's a carry-on suitcase. It would make more sense if you didn't pack a bag, but rather packed the trunk directly. Furthermore, there is not only no automatic feature to raise and lower the trunk, there is no hydraulic assistance and there's no built in handle on the underside to pull it down without touching the bodywork. It operates on manpower alone, with greasy fingers on paint. This is on the same car that features stitched leather around the seatbelt buckles, so we know Aston cares about details. But we've got to soil our hands – and engage in manual labor – to open the picnic basket between the rear fenders.

While the Bang & Olufsen stereo is the new word in aural satisfaction, the iPod integration leaves a bit to be desired. It works well until you want to play a single track, and then it's a chore to get it to stop playing and get back to the main menu. On the same token, we'd be much happier if Aston took a little money from its LMP1 project and got rid of all the Volvo references in its model line, namely with the switchgear and navigation screen. Here's an idea: Take the One-77 gear and fabricate it in plastic. Something. Anything. Just not Volvo. Not that there's anything wrong with Volvo switchgear... in a Volvo.



Although it might appear we've given the Aston a pasting, that's neither the case nor the intent. The foibles we've mentioned are – confoundingly – common to just about every car at that level, save for perhaps (are we really saying this?) Ferrari. Bentley's center console screen is a marvel, and not always in a good way. Rolls-Royce made "iPod integration" a bad word until the Ghost, now we're waiting for its new system to make the jump to the Phantom line. The Murcielago interior refuses to leave the (early) '90s. Getting directions into the Veyron's nav is easy as long as you have your Palm Pilot and plenty of time.

The trip here is that Aston has met the uncanny valley: the car is so close to "Could this be any better?" that the merest things begin to make you exclaim, "Oh dear God!" And because we know they can do it (have you seen the One-77?!), we wonder why they don't.

Ah well. The car is gorgeous. The interior is art. The stereo is brilliant. The driving is terrific. The soundtrack is perfect, and always played at the perfect volume. For the rest we could use The Supermodel Excuse, but we won't. We don't need to. Because everything we mentioned could be preceded by, "Well, if I really had to complain..." But again, we don't. And neither will your supermodel companion, for they're known to be favorably inclined to this particular car.



Quite simply, it rocks your world and those around you, and if nothing else, those quirks just give us improvements to look forward to on next year's model.

Best of all, the DB9 Volante can help you do the business and get away clean – and topless – which could save you a trip to some dank hoosegow after the final act. Take our word for it: there are much better ways to see Tajikistan.

On one hand, it may seem like an odd time for Mercedes to be jumping back into the ultra-premium end of the car market, particularly in light of its recent less-than-standouts efforts (think: McLaren SLR and the salesproof Maybach). But this isn't the case with the 2011 Mercedes-Benz SLS AMG. In fact, this isn't really a Gottlieb and Karl joint at all – at least not by any traditional definition.

The SLS is actually an Aufrecht Melcher Großaspach project. Huh? It's AMG's first bumper-to-bumper, start-to-finish project – and having just torn around the California countryside and hot-lapped around Laguna Seca, we're left wondering only one thing: Why did it take more than 40 years for this to happen? Well, perhaps we should cut Mercedes some slack, as it has only owned the high-performance arm since 1999, so perhaps the appropriate thing is to look at the SLS' 2009 rollout as something of a tenth anniversary present to itself. In that light, the folks from Stuttgart know how to throw one hell of a party.
More Than Simple Nostalgia

Just look at it – even without the theater of its avian-inspired doors, the SLS AMG would have major presence. Oh, it borrows heavily from the legendary 300SL of the '50s and '60s – justifiably the automaker's most celebrated design ever – but this isn't purely a retro pastiche. It has its own proportions, form vocabulary, and detailing that makes it much more than a Xerox'd yellowed blueprint sourced from somewhere deep within the bowels of the Mercedes-Benz Museum's archives.



Despite its nostalgic cab-backwards design – the hood is so long you could land a Bell JetRanger on it – its low, wide stance and modern detailing (complex headlamps, colossal disc brakes, etc.) means that it's also a thoroughly contemporary design. This is just as well, because the SLS is the most advanced production car the company has ever fielded. It's not as classically delicate and desperately pretty as the 300SL, but that car was built when accommodating the dark art of good aerodynamics was more of a suggestion than a mandate, when safety regulations bordered on the nonexistent. We're told that the face of the SLS will significantly influence volume models to come, so expect to see variations of this mug on everything from future SLKs to the S-Class.

Blip the key fob and the flush door handle pops out to greet your outstretched hand. A gentle tug sends the gullwing dramatically skyward without much effort, but those looking for power actuation will have to seek out someone in the halls of SEMA, as AMG's boffins wisely didn't want to add the weight and complexity of a motorized assist – particularly in the roof. Climbing aboard isn't too difficult – the sill is definitely wider than in a conventionally doored car, but it isn't silly convoluted, and you can enter butt or legs first, your choice. That said, if you aren't on the tallish side, you're advised to grab the door handle on your way down, as the awkward reach will dash any hopes of a graceful getaway. Of course, if you're a taller beanstalk, you might be looking at a different purchase altogether. While the accommodations are supportive and beautifully stitched whether you go for the standard power seats or the thinner, rigid-back racing bucket, there isn't a ton of space inside for lankier types. At five-foot, nine-inches, this driver was able to find a comfortable perch with good sightlines, albeit without a lot of room to spare. Our significantly taller co-driver would complain of a bit of back pain just 120 miles into our drive, but claustrophobia didn't appear to be an issue.

Once inside, the SLS' interior is generally well executed, but it lacks the sense of occasion that the doors promise. Controls both major and minor are logically arrayed and should be familiar to Mercedes owners. In particular, Benz's love/hate COMAND interface continues to get easier to operate with each generation and we didn't have difficulty operating the nav or turning off the stereo (we'd rather listen to the 6.2-liter fireworks, thanks). This particular example was trimmed in aluminum and carbon fiber, and fit-and-finish on our prototype was very good. As you might expect, interior storage space is at a premium in a car like this – the center console isn't very big and there are only a vestigial pair of cupholders for java junkies (they couldn't very well put bottle holders in the gullwings without risking a Bellagio-rivaling fountain display upon entry and exit). Despite that, this is still a very livable everyday coupe, with niceties like iPod integration, Bluetooth and a reasonably sized trunk. Still, we can't help but wish for a proper deadpedal and better placement of the otherwise nifty LED shift indicator lights – they're mounted too low to be useful during serious driving.


Beyond the Numbers Lurks a Change in Priorities

Hopeless stat jockeys will want to know the metrics right off: 563 horsepower (at 6,800 RPM) and 479 pound-feet of torque (at 4,750); 0-100 kmh (62 mph) in 3.8 seconds and 200 kmh (124 mph) in around 11.8 seconds. Top whack? Electronically governed to 197 mph. In much the same way as skimming a seventh-grade text book can teach you about copulation or combat, looking at these numbers may paint the SLS as a very powerful, immensely quick automobile – but it tells you exactly nothing about how it feels to be behind the wheel. Like good sex and serious warfare, it's ballistic, impossible to ignore and utterly engaging.



Let's not overlook that last word – for quite some time now, many Mercedes automobiles have been stupidly powerful and stupendously fast. Some have even been sexy. But up until the current crop of AMGs came down the line, they really haven't been all that engaging – feeling sort of heavy and oblique, more high luxury than high performance. Cars like the CLK63 Black Series and C63 served notice that Benz's dynamic priorities had begun to shift, but the SLS operates on another plane.

Where the now-departed McLaren SLR was a grand tourer first and a driver's car second, the SLS reverses that priority list. First off, it's quite loud inside, with loads of road noise from the 19-inch front and 20-inch rear Continentals filtering up through the aluminum frame and body panels. The 6.2-liter V8's exhaust burble-and-pop on overrun is decidedly brusque and in-your-face. The power-assisted rack-and-pinion steering is surprisingly sharp and talkative – something of a necessity in a car like this, because the front pointies are somewhere out there, way ahead of your legs.

One of These Things Is Not Like the Other

We've sampled AMG's 6.2-liter V8 in all sorts of Mercedes' vehicles, including coupes, convertibles, sedans and MPVs – but this particular iteration is quite a bit different. For one thing, it weighs just 453 pounds thanks in part to components like forged aluminum pistons, aluminum bolts and a magnesium intake manifold sporting eight velocity stacks. Not only is the engine lighter, it's also more robust, with a reinforced crankcase and a beefier crankshaft. Better still, the engine has been plumbed to run a dry-sump lubrication system, allowing the whole works to be nestled deeper in the aluminum spaceframe for a lower center-of-gravity while offering superior oil-scavenging properties in the sort of high-g situations that SLS owners will want to become intimately familiar with. All-in, AMG says that upwards of 120 components have been changed.



All 563 horses are corralled through a carbon-fiber driveshaft housed in a torque tube (itself a small work of art) and routed to the rear-mounted seven-speed dual-clutch transaxle assembly that also houses a limited-slip differential. Locating the Getrag gearbox in the back has enabled the engine to be mid-mounted (completely behind the front axle), keeping more mass within the 105.5-inch wheelbase and allowing engineers to claim weight distribution of 47 percent front and 53 percent rear. At 3,573 pounds, the SLS is more than 200 pounds lighter than the carbon-fiber SLR Roadster (3,779 pounds) and a shade less than the 3,616 pound Audi R8 V10 R-tronic – although to be fair, the Audi has all-wheel drive and two more cylinders to tote around.

Out on the Street

It is wholly appropriate that some of America's best roads lurk within a few miles of what is arguably the nation's best racetrack, Monterey's Laguna Seca. For those who haven't yet had the chance to experience the area, make a point to find your way here with an able car. In the best sense of the word, these coastal Californian roads are the product of nature's will – not man's. They drape gloriously across the mountainous landscape like The Almighty dropped a ball of asphalt yarn, only to have it unravel on the earth's floor and come to a rest under his couch. Depending on where you venture, surface quality ranges from impeccable to borderline horse trail, but all of the roads involve more twists and turns than a CSI Miami marathon. Thankfully, when attacking them with the right car, the experience is much more fulfilling and a lot less predictable.

Is the SLS up to the task? Oh, yes. At 182.6-inches long, it may be in the shadow of an SL63 by about four inches, but it's also much, much lighter, and the combination of a quick rack and a unexpectedly supple suspension setup (dual aluminum wishbones, coil springs and gas shocks all 'round) tied to a rock-solid frame makes for a wieldy, surprisingly tossable package. Make no mistake, at 76.3-inches wide and over 3,500 pounds, the SLS was never going to "drive small" like a Lotus Exige, but neither is it remotely piggish. We were concerned that the large openings necessitated by the coupe's unconventional doors might negatively impact rigidity, but the 530-pound spaceframe quickly shrugged off any such suggestions.



Soaring 'Round the Circuit

Having only driven Laguna Seca's 2.238 miles once before, this author was privately relieved to learn that we'd have a pace car to keep us from getting inebriated on a heady cocktail of horsepower, endorphins and the grille-full of AMG-branded steaks served trackside. As it turns out, we would learn that our pace car driver was five-time DTM touring car champ Bernd Schneider, so any sense of security we had going in was premature. Being a highly competitive sort, Schneider's idea of lead-follow laps got progressively quicker throughout our afternoon sessions, leading to one minor bauble where we got the rear-end quite loose in Turn 3 (a 90+ degree right-hander that's actually pretty flat, albeit with a later apex than one initially thinks). Thankfully, despite rotating the driven wheels out rather more than we had intended, Mercedes' excellent three-mode ESP system saved our bacon without drama. As we weren't yet intimately familiar with car or track, we were operating in "ESP Sport" mode, which allows for significantly higher dynamic thresholds before it intervenes with the brakes and/or throttle, but even "ESP Off" mode will intercede if the driver applies the brakes.

The SLS' stability control isn't the only setting you'll want to fiddle with before exiting pit lane – there's a range of settings that allow you to govern how the dual-clutch gearbox swaps cogs. "C" stands not for "Comfort," but rather for "Controlled Efficiency," a modest hat tip toward a greener supercar. This mode starts the car in second, and seems to seek out higher gears more quickly for enhanced fuel savings. This setting is perfectly fine for most uses, but it also puts a lid on the fun. Sport ("S") is more entertaining, as it restores use of first gear, executes shifts that are 20 percent quicker than in "C" and the gear swaps themselves take place at higher engine speeds. Sport Plus (S+) brings on shifts that are 20 percent quicker still, and for total control, there's Manual ("M") mode, which only swaps when the driver says so, executing changes in less than 100 milliseconds.



With the systems appropriately girded, the SLS is a wonderfully quick and rorty piece that bursts from corner to corner, operating with a degree of precision and verve not seen in Mercedes showrooms for some time. That wide stance, low center of gravity and relatively light weight makes for swift transient responses. It's a testament to AMG's engineering talents that its first-ever clean-sheet design is not only versatile, but also genuinely connected in feel. The long hood melts away at speed as the steering comes good, and our car's optional carbon-ceramic brakes were utterly fade- and noise-free on both street and circuit. AMG cars may have brought big horsepower to the table before, but the SLS is the enthusiast's full meal deal.

Birds of a Feather

Speaking of boxes, how expensive is the one the SLS comes in? Well, we don't know just yet, but officials tell us that they're aiming for a base price under $200,000, placing it in the vicinity of the Ferrari California, Lamborghini Gallardo and Aston-Martin DB9, but well north of fellow Germans including the aforementioned Audi R8 V10 and the bargain Porsche 911 GT2 and GT3 RS. Some of those cars are sharper track day tools, some are better GTs, but few play both sides of the coin as well as the SLS. It may have taken upwards of 40 years for AMG to finally spread its wings and take flight with an original of its own, but it's been worth the wait. Now, about that Maybach...

Sometimes it's hard to remember what you did just yesterday, but think back to 2003 when Kia first introduced the Sorento mid-size SUV. At the time, the market was dominated by body-on-frame vehicles with real honest-to-goodness four-wheel-drive systems and rugged part-time transfer cases. The times, they are a changin'. Releasing a brand-new body-on-frame SUV into the marketplace these days, regardless of how good it may be – see Kia Borrego – is like bringing a sledgehammer to a knife fight.

Kia was able to hit the mark back in 2003 with its full-frame Sorento on account of clever marketing and a very attractive base price. That's just not good enough any longer. The Sport Utility Vehicle has officially handed the reins over to the Crossover, and Kia was left without a player in this newly-defined and ridiculously popular segment. Until now, that is. There will be no 2010 Sorento. As if to mark the death of the old vehicle and its rebirth into something completely different, Kia decided to completely skip the 2010 model year, and we're expecting good things from the 2011 Sorento after having been suitably impressed by Kia's two most recent vehicle launches, the Soul and Forte.

By now you've likely seen pictures of the new Sorento, and it looks good. But it takes much more than a pretty face to win over legions of CUV buyers with so many credible options to choose from. So, the big question is whether or not Kia has hit the mid-size crossover target square in the center with the latest version of its shapely 'ute, or if this particular arrow falls short of its intended trajectory. Keep reading to find out where the Sorento lands.
First off, let's talk style. We happen to think the Sorento, though perhaps a bit dated this far into its life cycle, has always been one of the better looking SUVs on the market. While the old and new machines look entirely different from one another when placed side-by-side, that attractive tradition carries on with the 2011 model. Blur your vision a bit and it would be easy to mistake the '11 Sorento for any number of midsize CUVs, but take a little time to pick out the details and you'll likely be pleased.



Starting up front with a grille that's becoming a trademark of Kia Design Director Peter Schreyer (he of Audi TT fame) and is quickly spreading across the rest of Kia's lineup, there's an easily recognizable link between this Sorento and the aforementioned Forte sedan. When it comes to Kia's recent design direction, sharp, geometric shapes and creases are the name of the game, especially noticeable in the case of the Sorento as the eye is drawn to the vehicle's deeply chiseled window sills and rocker panels.

We don't often comment on specific colors on our first drives, but in this case we think it's worth mentioning that the 2011 Sorento puts its best foot forward when painted up in metallic tones and lighter shades, which allow more contrast between the flat surfaces and those angular wedges and indentations. Dark shades and jewel tones seem to mask these – we asked around to verify our initial opinion and found many fellow testers agreed with our assessment. Whatever the case, the Sorento isn't likely to offend and introverted drivers should find that it easily blends into its surroundings.



The term "all-new" is surely one of the most overused phrases in all of autodom, but this is one of those times when it truly applies. This Sorento really is completely different from its predecessor. In fact, the only thing that the 2011 Sorento shares with the 2010 model is its nameplate. Underneath the new sheetmetal is a new unibody structure that replaces the old body-on-frame architecture of the last-gen model. Length is up a little under four inches while the wheelbase, at 106.3 inches, actually shrinks by a smidge. One very important bit made possible by the lack of a full steel frame underneath is a weight reduction of about 400 pounds. In this day and age of rapidly expanding waist lines, that's a big deal. Look underhood and you'll be greeted by one of two powerplants – either a 2.4-liter four cylinder with 172 horsepower and 166 pound-feet of torque or an optional 3.5-liter V6 that puts out 273 hp and 247 lb-ft.

Propping up the front are independent MacPherson struts with coil springs; at the rear is a fully independent multilink arrangement. Ground clearance sits at 7.2 inches, which strikes us as more than enough considering that very few owners will ever venture off-road anyway. Sitting relatively close to terra firma means entering the Sorento is a breeze for both front and rear passengers. Once inside, there's plenty of room for occupants both up front and in the second-row. And the extra two perches out back? Yeah, pretty much exactly as you'd expect – for children, chihuahuas or chia pets only. Interior space is up a useful 15 percent for a total of 103.9 cubic feet. Put those rear-most seats down and you'll find plenty of cargo space (a max of 72.5 cubes with all the seats stowed away) with a nicely-shaped opening through the single-piece rear liftgate and a good amount of floor space. You'll note, though, that there isn't a great deal of stowage available with the seats up – just 9.1 cubic feet. So configured, our camera bag fit with room to spare while our standard carry-on overnight luggage did not.

Interior materials are middle-of-the-road. There's plenty of hard plastic that fails to pass the standard tap-tap test with the back of the knuckles, but at least it's nicely grained and doesn't cast much glare on the somewhat rakish front glass. Compared to natural rivals like the brand new Chevrolet Equinox and even the few-year-old Ford Edge, the Sorento might be a half-step behind when it comes to plastics, fabrics and leathers. Overall interior design, on the other hand, leaves very little to complain about. The instrument cluster is nicely shaped with three chrome-ringed gauges displaying speed front-and-center, flanked by a tachometer to the left and a combination fuel/temperature gauge on the right. The white-on-black dials are nicely legible and the digital readout at the bottom of the speedometer displays your transmission gear along with the driver's choice of various selectable functions such as a temperature gauge or trip odometer. Perhaps the most unfortunate piece of the interior puzzle is the high-gloss fake wood trim. Avoid it and stick to the optional matte finish, which makes the plastiwood much less noticeable. We wish there were a high-gloss piano black or matte aluminum trim option.

Directly in front of the driver is an attractive four-spoke steering wheel with the expected audio and cruise controls, but we found the leather wrapping rather hard and plasticky. The center of the dash is made up of the stereo, climate control and optional touchscreen satellite navigation controls. Everything is mostly uncluttered and within easy reach, and we appreciated the standard auxiliary USB input jack. The optional 7.1 surround sound Infinity audio package strikes us as a good idea, especially since the new Sorento is commendably quiet both in busy urban settings and longer, high-speed stretches on the highway – all the better to properly enjoy your tunes. A large panoramic sunroof is another intriguing option as it gives the cockpit a nice, airy feeling for both front and second-row passengers.



So, we like the way it looks and have established that its guts are a thorough improvement over the model it replaces. Fortunately, the best thing about the 2011Sorento is how it drives. Calm, quiet and composed are the first words that come to mind behind the wheel, an impression that's especially true on the highway. Steering is nicely weighted for its intended application, and the ratio is a bit quicker than the majority of its competitors. Ride is definitely biased towards smooth and comfortable, but thankfully, it's never floaty and there weren't any exaggerated motions to give our passengers seasickness at high speeds over rough terrain. Handling? Sure... everything reacts just as you'd expect from a mid-size crossover, which is to say understeer, understeer and more understeer. That's especially true of the front-wheel-drive version we sampled, as the Sorento's optional full-time all-wheel drive seems does a pretty good job of diverting torque to the rear when the front wheels are overwhelmed.

Power from the base 2.4-liter is just barely what we'd classify as adequate, and it goes about its business in a rather workmanlike manner without causing any undue ruckus or protesting too loudly. Which is good, as you'll surely be winding the little motor out on a somewhat regular basis to keep up with fast-moving traffic. Our advice would be to step up to Kia's excellent 3.5-liter V6, which offers plenty of smooth power for just about any situation you're likely to encounter. Just as importantly, fuel economy doesn't suffer all that much with the bigger mill. The most miserly combination pairs the four-banger up with front-wheel drive and nets the driver an estimated 21 miles-per-gallon city and 28 highway. Worst-case-scenario is the 3.5-liter V6 and all-wheel drive, and that's still good for 19 mpg in the city and 27 out on the highway. Either powerplant responds well to throttle inputs and seem eager to rev, but the larger six feels comparatively less stressed in this application, which likely explains why the fuel economy penalty is so minimal. Towing capacity stands at 2,000 pounds with the four and 3,500 pounds with the V6.



Both engines are mated up to a Kia-designed and built six-speed automatic transmission. Shift quality is good and the tranny was plenty eager to downshift a cog or two depending on the forcefulness of our right loafer. Not that it matters too much, but there is indeed a manual mode that's accessible by slapping the shifter to the left. Nudge the lever forward to upshift and back to downshift. Easy-peasy. But – and this is a big BUT in our opinion, not that it's specific to Kia – the manual mode is rendered particularly less useful since the transmission will still upshift and downshift as it pleases when in "manual" mode. For instance, when the engine approaches its redline, the transmission shifts up a gear, and there's no way to stop that from happening if you were purposely trying to hold it there. A six-speed manual will reportedly be offered only with the base four, but sadly none were made available for testing. Braking was strong and true regardless of which powertrain we were sampling.

For what it's worth – and to some, we expect it's worth quite a bit – the Sorento is the first Kia to be built right here in America in the automaker's brand new assembly plant in West Point, Georgia. We toured the facility, which is about an hour's drive from downtown Atlanta barring traffic, and found that it's a thoroughly modern factory with plenty of room for future expansion. Expect more models to join the Sorento in Georgia in the near future.



Final pricing has yet to be announced, but Kia did promise us that the 2011 Sorento would start below the $20,000 mark. Add the V6 engine and a few well-chosen options and you'll likely end up with a compelling package at something around $25K. Fully loaded models will surely top $30,000 and that's when things like the uninspired interior materials will start to hold it back. In any case, owners should be quite pleased by its driving dynamics and room, and that's surely the most important piece of the puzzle. As such, we'd have to say that Kia has pretty much nailed the bullseye with its 2011 Sorento by offering exactly the kind of vehicle the American consumer has proven it wants.

We hadn't been parked but a minute or two when it happened. After about a half an hour wringing out our test subject on what few curvy stretches of road suburban Detroit had to offer, we opportunistically pulled into a roadside fruit stand to snap a few photos before our ride got any dirtier. It was at exactly this point that a Lincoln MKZ rolled up, a window whirred down, and two gray-tufted heads popped out. "What is it?" inquired the couple in boisterous unison. Silence. "It's the 2010 Honda Accord Crosstour," we eventually blurt out, my co-driver sounding suspiciously apologetic. "It's... it's gorgeous!" The late-sixty-something man isn't being facetious – in fact, he's gushing – taking his hands off the Lincoln's wheel and gesturing as if to reinforce his sincerity.

If we're lyin,' we're dyin.'

"It's absolutely beautiful."

More silence.

"Really? Would you like to take a closer look?" No sooner had we extended the offer than said window was rolled up and the MKZ hurriedly shepherded into a parking spot. Moments later, our curious seniors were all over Honda's latest like first-in-liners at an early bird all-you-can-eat buffet. They took in its daring fastback profile, sized up its cargo hold, fiddled with its power seat controllers and gooshed its soft-touch plastics. Not only were they clearly impressed, they loved the way it looked.
Having established that Ashton Kutcher wasn't about to spring forth from behind the stand's display of pumpkins, we stood back and watched, surveying the scene while chatting with the stand's owner. Even though the proprietor would later confess to not liking Hondas (her husband being a retired General Motors lifer and all, that kinda thing just wouldn't be right), she had been kind enough to oblige our photography and she seemed to be as curious as we were. We admit it: we did not expect things to go down this way. And in our defense, neither did Honda.


You are the Target Market

You see, earlier that same morning, we attended a press conference and walkaround with company officials, and as it turns out, our elderly snoopers aren't who the Crosstour's blunt prow is aimed at. According to Lee DaSilva, senior product planner, the model is targeted at both fifty-something Baby Boomers that find themselves with newly empty nests and Gen Y types who are just starting their own families. Our admirers were clearly neither.



However, given their newish MKZ, they probably had the educational and financial credentials that Honda has bogeyed, and besides, it's often true of niche cars that they end up selling to vastly different audiences than the one that was originally intended. Just ask Scion. Or Honda's own Element buyers.


Beauty is in the Eye of (Other) Beholders

Regardless of The Lincolns' ardor, it's clear that Honda is facing considerable early pushback with its newest nichemobile. Advanced marketing efforts through social media sites like Facebook haven't exactly gone according to plan, sparking widespread derision studded with the occasional kudos emanating from the Commentariat. The only problem is, the overwhelming majority of these detractors have never seen the Crosstour in person.

It is at this point that you might reasonably expect us to fence-straddle a bit and tell you why the Crosstour is better looking in person. Thing is, we're not sure it is. Perhaps you expect us to note how what few photos Honda has released to this point fail to tell the whole story. Fair enough – they don't. And we needn't remind you that auto journalists (us included) are regularly accused of using mealy-mouthed words like 'unique,' 'distinctive,' 'polarizing' and 'intriguing' when what they're trying to say is that a design team has shat the bed. In that spirit and from our vantage point, we'll say this polarizing Honda is uniquely distinctive in an intriguing way.

First Impression: Like the Accord sedan upon which it's based, the Crosstour is larger than you might expect. At 196.8-inches long, 74.7-inches wide, 65.7-inches tall and 3,887 pounds, our EX-L tester was a big boy. As our new friends illustrate, the Crosstour's design clearly has its adherents, but we can't help but think that its self-described "thick face," oddly dimpled rocker panels and high-waisted Kammback tail tries too hard to be different.



In particular, the dead-on front and rear views are tough to make sense of. The nose is definitely aggressive, and for better or worse, it does have a certain "T-Rex head" quality about it. We suspect some will appreciate its in-your-face quality, while others will just be turned off. When viewed from directly behind, we couldn't find much love for the Crosstour's split-glass arrangement and collagen-injected Porsche Panamera aesthetic. The visual weight of its high rump has been exacerbated by tires that appear too narrow, to say nothing of the odd covering of the undermounted spare that's clearly visible to trailing cars.

To be clear, we think that a 225/60 18-inch radial is normally more than enough footprint for a family car (EXs make do with 225/65 17s), but even if these Michelins are dynamically up to snuff – and they are – they don't help visually. This is particularly apparent when compared with the wider and larger radials of the competition (there's a reason most Toyota Venzas wears dubs). Given the Crosstour's elevated ride height, its upward sweeping rear overhang, and its unconventional hatchback rear graphic, the resulting look strikes us as disharmonious and tippy. We suspect Honda's engineers may have had trouble stuffing a wider tire underneath the Accord-based platform, especially while leaving space for the underslung spare.


Do Not Attempt to Define the Undefinable

Thankfully, during our day with the car, Honda's team largely avoided the shopworn auto marketer's tendency to invent white space. You know, blustery talk of how a model is a new type of vehicle the likes of which buyers have never seen, and therefore it has no real competitors. Oh, program chief engineer Osamu Takezawa did suggest that Crosstour is an "Active Grand Tourer" (fair enough), but the rest of Honda's marketing team refreshingly didn't even attempt to coin a new market segment like "Extreme Lifestage Softroader" for it to occupy.



Admittedly, a bit of confusion would be understandable – even our own government doesn't can't seem to comprehend what this East Liberty, Ohioan is: The EPA classifies the Crosstour as a passenger car, but down the hall, NHTSA maintains it is a light truck. As if to add some context and clarity to this conundrum, Honda thoughtfully provided a pair of likely cross-shops for us to sample, the Nissan Murano and Toyota Venza. Honda says this is a CUV, folks.


Core Competency

All of which brings us to the drive. We've spent entirely too much time dwelling on the sort of superficial stuff that our moms have always told us doesn't matter. It's what's inside that counts, right? So, in that spirit... how's she go? Rather well, as it turns out.

Quick studies among you might reasonably surmise that the Crosstour probably drives like a slightly taller and more portly Accord. And you're right – in much the same way that Toyota's Venza behaves essentially like a taller and more portly Camry. As it is with the family sedan archrivals, Honda once again provides the more entertaining drive, with quicker, more direct steering; firmer brake pedal feel; reduced body roll and front-end plow – in general, a more dynamically 'connected' feel. All good stuff.

As is the case with every Crosstour, our front-drive EX-L tester was powered by Honda's well-mannered 24-valve, 3.5-liter V6. In this case, the i-VTEC motor gives 271 horsepower (at 6,200 RPM) and 254 pound-feet of torque (at 5,000 RPM) – both figures comparing favorably to the Venza (268 hp/246 lb-ft.) and Murano (265 hp/248 lb-ft). However, the Toyota has an extra cog and the Nissan's CVT has a wider ratio spread as compensation.

Despite only having five speeds, the Crosstour's transmission proved to be a sophisticated and able partner, with a new g-force algorithm that prevents the gearbox from engaging in any ill-timed mid-corner shifts, and there's even an unexpected rev-matching downshift feature. Oddly, Honda has elected to not include a manual +/- gate on the gearshift and there are no paddles, either.



While we were initially a bit surprised to learn that no four-cylinder model would be offered, the six has variable-cylinder management technology to help on the economy front. Paired with Honda's keen-shifting five-speed automatic and other fuel-saving measures (example: a humidity control feature on the HVAC system that results in a three percent fuel savings), the Crosstour chips in with some respectable mileage figures: 17 mpg city/27 mpg highway for front-drivers like ours, and 17/25 for the all-wheel drive model. Officials claim they would've only saved about one mpg by going with an inline-four, so they passed. For comparison's sake, a Murano returns 18/23 and a V6 Venza scores 19/26.


Drama on the Outside, Not on the Inside

If nothing else, the Honda's polarizing bodyform helps pay dynamic dividends. With just 6.0-inches of ground clearance (only 0.3 inches more than the sedan – significantly less than its adversaries) and a narrow overall body height from rocker-to-roofline, the Crosstour enjoys a lower center-of-gravity than competitors, an attribute that's noticeable from the moment you take a corner with conviction. Credit also goes to an exceptionally stiff body structure that allows the front double-wishbone and rear multi-link suspension to keep ride motions in check. It's also this rigid chassis that helps keep the interior free from any squeaks and rattles.

In fact, it's very quiet inside – even when the standard sunroof is open. Honda has fitted dynamic engine mounts that help cancel out unpleasant engine vibrations when the V6 is operating in cylinder deactivation mode, and the Crosstour is the first Honda-branded vehicle to employ active sound cancellation through the audio system. We even reckon the CUV's narrower sail area will result in better resistance to crosswinds than its contemporaries.



Realizing that it's toting around an extra 300 pounds or so, engineers upgraded the Crosstour's standard Accord brakes from single- to double-piston up front, with 11.7-inch discs fore and 12.0-inchers aft. Further alterations include model-specific shocks, springs and anti-roll bars. The changes work, and the ride and handling strikes an agreeable balance. In short, the Crosstour may offer a more sporting drive, but it's plenty composed, too.


The Whole Enchilada?

Let's face it, though – this class of crossover is rarely purchased based on dynamic abilities – buyers want a comfortable ride, commanding visibility, flexible utility and plenty of creature comforts. By this yardstick, the Crosstour has some holes in its repertoire. The interior is nicely done, and despite the rakish roofline, rear headroom isn't far off of its competitors, plus there's legroom aplenty. If anything, the case can certainly be made that the interior looks too similar to the Accord sedan. With the exception of a unique fabric or leather color option, ice blue gauge needles and a different shade of faux woodgrain, the cabin is all but identical to its less adventuresome sibling. At least all Crosstours come with supportive seats, excellent fit-and-finish and generous equipment levels: standard kit includes dual-zone HVAC controls, a sunroof and a 360-watt CD-stacker stereo. Lest we forget, Honda's wonderfully capable but fiddly sat-nav is also available.


On the visibility front, the Crosstour's two-piece rear glass allows one to see objects up close more easily than some of its competitors (think: parking lot poles), but the rear aspect is otherwise compromised with a narrow main window, thick D-pillars and bulky headrests. It isn't just the view out the back that's likely to prove divisive – because the Crosstour sits so low, it fails to deliver the elevated SUV-like seating position and sweeping greenhouse that many crossover buyers crave. Get the backup camera.

Things are somewhat better beneath the rear hatch. If the Crosstour has any surprise-and-delight features, it's back here. The 25.7 cubic feet of cargo space (expandable to 51.3 cubes with seatbacks down) trails its rivals by a good bit – particularly when comparing seats-folded numbers. But the 60/40 split chairs fold completely flat with a tug on the well-placed handles and there's a novel three-piece double-sided floor panel that has carpet on one side and ribbed plastic on the other. If you don't want to soil the carpet with your active lifestyle accessories, the plastic side is the way to go, but we wish it were rubberized to hold items in place. As it is, unless you secure the item using the supplied tie-downs, your belongings are probably going to end up on the carpeted area anyway.


Saving the best for last, the Crosstour's chief party trick is its "Hidden Removable Utility Box," a 1.9 cubic foot sub-floor... well, box that has handles and movable dividers. It's a great place to store valuables out of sight and keep dirty boots away from the week's groceries. It's also the reason why Honda opted to have the spare tire ride underneath the chassis like a pickup, as doing so freed up room for the storage bin.


A Surprisingly Short List and a Question of Price

Unfortunately, for a premium-minded offering, the Crosstour's options list appears to be missing more than a few key attractions. In most new CUVs of this class, you can get a panoramic moonroof, but with the Honda, you'll have to settle for the standard-sized unit. Power liftgate? Rear-seat entertainment system? High-intensity discharge headlamps? Bluetooth streaming audio? Pushbutton start? No, no, no, no... and...umm... no. It's therefore unsurprising that you won't find any advanced safety options like a lane-departure warning system, a blind-spot monitor or intelligent cruise control. We generally don't care for those gewgaws, and to be fair, many competitors do without them, but Honda has made it clear that it's seeking more affluent buyers, and with less-than-stellar outward visibility, it wouldn't be a bad idea to make at least blind-spot technology available.

Then there's the not inconsiderable matter of pricing. Honda has taken a real risk here by deciding to offer high-content V6-only models, and we're not sure it's the right strategy. As it is, the front-drive EX starts at $29,670 and all-wheel drive models start at $34,020, but at least leather comes standard on those models. Add navigation to an all-wheel-drive EX-L, and you're talking $36,220, at which point the barn door is wide open for premium-badged offerings.



We hate to belabor the point, but since Honda themselves brought specific challengers into the equation, it bears noting: Apples-to-apples, the competition is cheaper. A front-drive, six-cylinder Venza starts at $27,800 and a similar Murano (which only comes with V6 power) retails from $28,050. And if you care about such things, at 3,500 pounds, they both offer more than double the highest rated towing capacity of the Crosstour.

As we Autobloggers are good momma's boys and gals, we'll agree to say that beauty is in the eye of the beholder and leave discussions of this Honda's design at that. We'll even happily agree that it's nominally the better driver's car. But rivals offer more utility, more capability, more choices and more luxuries – and they do it at lower price points. That's going to be one hard Crosstour-shaped lozenge for consumers to ignore – no matter what age or tax bracket they operate in.


Who Might Really Cross Over

As it turns out, our fruit-stand stopping, MKZ-driving admirers would later tell us that they have another car at home in their driveway – an Accord – and they are contemplating replacing it soon. All of which makes a lot more sense. Honda has some of the best customer satisfaction and brand retention ratings of any automaker, and we can see loyalists looking for something a bit different and a bit more capacious finding their way into a Crosstour. We're just not sure about 40,000 of them – the yearly volume company officials are seeking.



Us? We'll wait for the just-announced Acura TSX Sport Wagon, a model that is widely expected to be a ported-over version of the company's tasty JDM Accord Tourer. In the meantime, Honda, might we suggest introducing an all-wheel drive Accord sedan? We suspect you'll have the necessary parts lying around...