2005 Bentley Continental Gt on 2040-cars

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40+ cars that barely avoid the gas guzzler tax

The Gas Guzzler schedule, with mpg ratings and charges that haven't changed since 1991, lays out which fuel-swillers owe what to Uncle Sam.
I started thinking about the "Gas Guzzler Tax" - considerably less well known as The Energy Tax Act of 1978 - when I was driving Dodge's new Challenger SRT Hellcat last week. Unsurprisingly for a car that can burn 1.5 gallons of gas per minute at max tilt, theoretically able to empty a full tank of premium in about 13 minutes, the Hellcat will be subject to the Gas Guzzler Tax schedule when it goes on sale.

Bentley Grand Convertible is grand, is a convertible

What you see above is the Bentley Grand Convertible, live from the Los Angeles Auto Show. It's basically a droptop version of the Mulsanne Speed, which would seem to be a foregone conclusion for production, but apparently isn't, according to Bentley Chairman and CEO, Wolfgang Dürheimer.
"We are eagerly awaiting the response of our customers to this car. We will ensure that this car - if it reaches the roads - will be a highly exclusive, extremely limited collector's piece."
With its production possibilities out of the way, and with the image gallery you see above proving that it is, indeed, a convertible, we can move on to what makes this Grand Convertible so grand. Equipped with the same 6.75-liter engine with 530 horsepower and 811 pound-feet of torque as its hardtop brethren, it certainly won't be lacking for power. The Grand Convertible has been "fashioned entirely by hand from the very finest materials," says Bentley, and the tonneau is made from the largest piece of wood veneer ever applied by the automaker.

2013 Bentley Continental GT Speed

Meeting Bentley's 205-MPH Prince On The Autobahn
I'm travelling at the approximate speed of privilege. With the aluminum accelerator of the 2013 Bentley Continental GT Speed buried to its neck in the high-pile carpet of the floorboard, the 6.0-liter twin-turbocharged W12 underhood is at full boast. The 616 furious British horses pumping under that long, proud prow set the German countryside to frappé with breathless ease, and with the sprawling sheetmetal of the coupe settled comfortably onto its haunches in eager anticipation of ever more thrust, it's clear this machine is content to consume endless kilometers of Autobahn in wide-mouthed gulps. There's an open lane of unrestricted tarmac unraveling before me, and I'm keen to oblige every thread of temptation singing in my chest. The speedometer has just clicked past 165 mph.
At this clip, the new crown jewel of the Bentley war chest is covering land at the rate of nearly one football field per second. The white lines on the road are beginning to fade into a solid stream, and I'm suddenly aware of the increasingly rapid heartbeat whispering the truth of my mortality in my ears. There's no looking anywhere other than as far to the horizon as possible, but even with my eyes set to long-range scan, it's clear that if something goes wrong at this velocity, they'll be burying an empty box in the hills of Tennessee. That little bit of trivia makes it all the more disconcerting when an ambling Volkswagen Jetta strays into my lane for no other reason than to take in the glorious sight of me manufacturing a stack of bricks in the quilted-leather driver's seat of someone else's $228,600 supercar.