Barely 3000 rpm into the 6800-rpm well under my right foot, already I knew: This one is special. Given the way I was being shoved into my seat, I could’ve been stuck between Miley Cyrus and a throng of fourth-grade girls. My eardrums trembled against shockwaves apparently set off by the Boston Symphony playing atop a launching Delta rocket. My right hand reached down to the brushed-chrome ball atop the six-speed shifter and slotted it up into fourth, the narrow mountain road funneling under the hood like a retracting tape measure. Ahead loomed another turn. A squeeze of the Brembo brakes, a quick heel-toe downshift, and I was arcing the red-leather wheel to the left as the cornering forces lifted my iPhone from the central cupholder and hurled it against the passenger door like a slapshot hockey puck. At that moment, I’m fairly certain I cackled with joy.

Photo Gallery: The Asphalt Jungle: The Big Five – Motor Trend Magazine