Swimming With Sharks: Driving a GT-R on the LA Freeway


Well, it took almost four days of living in Los Angeles, but I finally got behind the wheel of a supercar. Sitting here typing, I still can’t believe what happened. Now it’s not like I’ve never realized that I’m one of the luckiest bastards to ever walk the face of the earth—I have, really—but lately that’s been happening like, every [expletive deleted] day. You see, CarDomain and YoParts are going to be giving away a Nissan GT-R, and when I rolled into the office yesterday morning, Nads told me we were picking it up from DC Motors, which is a solid 45 minutes from the office, that afternoon. He also—for reasons I can’t at all fathom—informed me that I was going to be driving it back.

Um…  I can barely remember my address, I have to consult a map to figure out how to get home from work, and the only things I’ve eaten since I’ve been here—seriously—are tacos. And I was getting charged with driving one of the baddest machines on the planet down the infamous LA freeways? What? Obviously, I was excited, but I also felt like I was also about to go ride a gold-plated mountain bike through the scenic parts of Afghanistan. And watching Nads weave through the terrible traffic on the way out to Orange County didn’t make me any less nervous.

DC Motors was easy to find. The lot was filled with Lambos, Bentleys, Aston Martins and Ferraris, and our GT-R was waiting patiently for us in the back of the showroom. Cliff, the guy who was handing it over, actually had to jump it, because it’d been parked since arriving on a truck. This GT-R had no miles on it. None. Like not any. And I was going to do the honors. At that point, I felt like I’d just stood up too fast. This, I thought, is really not the time to screw up. Cliff pulled it out of the building, handed me two sets of keys, pointed out the fact it didn’t have plates, and gave me his business card, in case I got pulled over. Then he told me to drive carefully, and shook my hand. I climbed in, checked the mirrors, dropped the tranny into drive, and gently pulled up behind Nads’ Honda. Since I had absolutely no idea where I was going, I needed to follow him. “I don’t think you’ll have any trouble keeping up,”  he laughed. And he was right—keeping up was easy.

Upon leaving the lot, we had to make an immediate u-turn, which I did very, very, carefully. Then I gave Nads some space, and pounded the gas. Oh. My. God. The engine screamed, and my neck snapped back. I let off just as the turbos started to whine and jammed on the brakes. It was immediately apparent this was the quickest car I’ve ever driven—by a long shot. I couldn’t believe that the twin-turbo V6 was producing “only” 473 horsepower, and there was a supreme confidence in the way the power came to the ground. I literally felt glued to the road, and was immediately grateful for the all the electronic nannies Nissan had equipped the GT-R with. While we waited at a light, I glanced at the screen which reports on the car’s vitals. It’ll tell you what percentage throttle you’re using, the amount of boost, the lateral g-forces, and probably, what time it is on the moon. That was the last time I looked at it during the drive, and while I’m sure it sounds dope, I didn’t even think about turning on the Bose stereo. Just before the light turned green I toggled the shifter into manual mode, and we made a left on to the entrance ramp.

There was a line of cars on the left, and Nads ripped past them. I slammed the gas to the floor and started knocking up through the gears. I was in third and the engine was howling when we merged onto the freeway—the traffic looked like a swarm of bees. But there was no fear. I was as calm and confident as I’ve ever been. Apparently, I already have the aggressive tendencies necessary to navigate the ferocious LA freeways.

For the next 30 minutes, we bobbed and wove through the myriad cars, with Nads plunging ahead, and me playing the most exhilarating game of catch-up I’ve ever experienced. I quickly learned that if I wanted to stay with him, I was going to have to ride his ass pretty seriously, because drivers here will try to wedge into virtually any free space. It wasn’t like I was going that fast—I might have hit 100MPH—but the acceleration was blistering, and the hyper-accurate handling gave me confidence to squeeze into any available space. Literally, it felt like parallel parking at 80MPH. It was beautiful. I think I’m going to like it here.

Then before I even knew it, we had to exit the freeway and start crawling through the downtown core. While we were sitting at the light, I toggled the shifter back to automatic mode, took a deep breath, and began to absorb the savage level of adrenaline coursing through my veins. While we drove, ever so slowly, back to the office, I noticed tons of  pedestrians staring at the car, and was blown away by how quiet the engine was. At 40MPH, it was happy to plod along in fourth gear—Godzilla was as tame as a tired puppy. Oh, and one of the last cool things I noticed about the GT-R? When I was driving it around in the parking garage for pictures, it didn’t keep yelling at me to put on my seat belt. Now, I always buckle up when I’m on the road, but I find it annoying when a car wants me strap in to drive 25 feet. Anyway, Nads and the StreetFire camera crew are working on getting some sick footage of this baby out on the track, but until that’s posted, check out my quick walk-around video, and this clip of the engine firing up. And of course, stay tuned for more details about the GT-R giveaway! Somebody almost as lucky as me is going to take it home!

Walk-around:

Start up:



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