Special Car, auto, cars, vehicles

Industry analysts have suggested Acura could use a flagship sedan featuring an eight-cylinder, higher-displacement engine -- perhaps based on its 3.4-liter V-8 racing currently campaigning in the American Le Mans Series. There's also good reason to believe Acura will bring back its NSX halo sports car, which may boost the automaker's image despite the model's history of losing money. The Advanced Sports Car Concept (pictured) shown at last year's Detroit auto show likely represents the early stages of that car's development.

What does Acura need to place them as a true contender alongside Lexus and Infiniti? Should Acura enter niche markets as a method of attracting more business? Why hasn't Acura maintained its position as well as other premium Japanese brands despite having virtually invented the segment? Let's hear your thoughts! Also, to read about Acura's racing efforts in the ALMS, check out this exclusive feature article.

Speculation for what will power the upcoming TSX has been rampant -- suggestions for its powerplant have included the RDX SUV's turbo four as well as a naturally-aspirated four producing around 220 horsepower.

With a new TSX and TL on the way as well as a badly needed RL refresh, better times appear to be ahead for Acura.

Would you go for an Acura TSX clean diesel? Tell us in comments below.

The navigation system and the XM Note feature also are enhanced. You can tell the '09 RL from its new bustle trunk and clear- and red-lens taillamps, and some new twists in the sheetmetal, particularly in front and along the sides. I figure the styling discussion will begin and end with that "Dynamic Power Plenum" grille. What do you think?

I didn't notice the turbo lag many others complain about when they took it on the road. In fact, I found the 2.3-liter i-vtec turbo sporty on the highway and especially fun to drive on curvy mountain roads with little body roll. What's even more fun to use on the twisties are the steering-wheel shift paddles in sport mode.

The ride would be a bit rough for most people's standards, as Truck Trend editor Allyson Harwood pointed out in the January issue of Motor Trend. She noted "The ride is much too harsh for daily driving. It makes somewhat smooth pavement feel bumpy and is downright jarring on poorly maintained roads." I have to agree with Allyson, you can feel everything with the RDX's suspension. But I loved it because it adds to the sports-car feeling, akin to tuning a suspension for track racing. This would be the perfect CUV for people who love sports cars.

It can fit four people very comfortably and offers a deep rear cargo area and it's the perfect size for someone like me. However, I don't think I can justify the hefty $36,495 price tag that includes a "Technology Package" that consists of Bluetooth wireless telephone connectivity, a 410-watt surround-sound system, a nav setup with voice recognition, rearview camera, and real-time traffic updates, and a GPS-linked, solar-sensing, dual-zone automatic climate-control system. The only option I would like of the group would be the navigation. That alone is a $3500 package I can live without since the base RDX comes standard with such goodies as leather-trimmed interior, heated front seats, satellite radio, power moonroof, Xenon headlamps, and stability control.

Read these other Long-term reviews to learn more about our adventures in the Acura RDX:

Long-Term Arrival: 2008 Acura RDX
Following victories in two comparison tests -- "Crossing Over" (July, 2006) and "Dune Devils" (August, 2007) -- in which the RDX spanked the likes of BMW X3, Land Rover LR2, Lincoln MKX, Mazda CX-7, and Toyota RAV4 V-6, Acura's first-ever compact crossover earned, in our estimation, an invite to join Motor Trend's long-term fleet.

Long-Term Update: 2007 Acura RDX
After accumulating 5700 miles, the RDX alerted us via its Maintenance Minder system that it required minor servicing.

Fleet Update: 2007 Acura RDX
With a little over 8000 miles on the odometer, the RDX transported photographer Brian Vance and a couple friends to Northern Nevada for a "helping of genuine off-roading" while in search of "a hot-spring tub in the East Walker River Canyon."

Rain greeted us as we departed San Diego for the twisting roads northeast of the city. As we climbed Highway 79 toward the small town of Julian, the rain transformed into sleet. By the time we'd reached Warner Springs (elevation: 3130 feet), it was snowing. Hard. We'd barely dug into lunch when it became evident the snow wasn't abating; in fact it was getting worse. Change of plans. Stop lunch. Get in cars. Back to sea level. Now.

I can hear the vast number of you laughing. Snow? Big deal. Get on with it. And you're right: The snowfall wasn't any worse that what I regularly encountered back when I lived through Michigan winters. But Michiganders are accustomed to driving through the white stuff. Most San Diego locals are used to . . . blue skies and 72 degrees. How are they supposed to know that snow and ice are, you know, cold and slippery?

We'd barely departed our lunch stop when we ran into our first accident. Or should I say, when it almost ran into us. Crawling along in a line of cars going 20 mph, I looked up to see two sheriff's Expeditions approaching rapidly in my rear-view mirror, sirens and lights ablaze. I pulled over. Just as I did, the lead Expedition suddenly skidded under power, rocketed up the opposite embankment, and flipped with a huge crash! back onto the highway -- landing on its side. Just as the first Ford stopped sliding, the second black-and-white Expedition flashed past doing more than 50 mph . . . the sheriff just managed to squeeze between me and her wrecked partner (another foot to the right, and she'd have wadded up my poor little TSX and me like a chewing-gum wrapper).

I carefully climbed out of the car, tip-toeing across the icy surface to the crashed Expedition. It looked like a wounded T-Rex: feet in the air, broken wipers flailing wildly like miniature claws, massive bulk cast cruelly across the road. I peered in the windshield, fearing the worst. The cop was sitting on the passenger window -- now the floor -- his foot hooked in the steering wheel and his expression dazed. "Are you okay?" I pounded on the windshield. He yelled back, "I'm fine!" As in, "leave me alone." He was in shock, but seemed coherent and more or less intact. By now his partner had stopped her Expedition and was running toward us, frantic. "He's okay," I yelled. "Did you call it in already?" She nodded. "Backup is on the way." By now the crashed sheriff had unwound himself and was standing on the passenger door, his head poking out the driver's window. "Boy, was than an E-ticket ride," he said, looking more sheepish than hurt.

With help already arriving, our caravan pressed on. Not fifteen minutes later we reached another wreck. This time, a car had spun across the two-lane mountain road, blocking both the northbound and our southbound lanes. We had to park and wait for an hour before a tow truck cleared our lane; the northbounders remained struck in the rapidly accumulating snow. We pressed on at a crawl.

Soon we reached yet another crash -- and another road blockage. After waiting about ten minutes, a few of us had had enough. We turned around, detoured onto a nearby side road, and headed downhill. Within 20 minutes, after we'd descended about 1000 feet, the snow had turned back into rain, and the road cleared. Ninety minutes later we reached base camp -- er, our hotel -- in San Diego.

I'm happy to report that all the TSX test cars arrived back safely and in one piece. Many on the mountain weren't so fortunate, though: In addition to the crashes we witnessed, news reports the next day confirmed that hundreds of motorists had been stranded on the mountain overnight.