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2017 Cadillac XT5 First Drive

Thousands of feet above the Pacific Ocean, the winding roads that lead to the summit of Palomar Mountain turn from undulating curves to tight, blind, hairpin bends. Most drivers along this route are looking for a chance to exploit the limits of their cars' handling as much as one can on public roads, while taking in the bucolic views and endless blue skies. Up here, taking the thrilling curves at high speed is best left for drivers of performance cars who have platinum health insurance, lest the possibility of rolling a vertical mile toward Hellhole Canyon Preserve (we are not making this up) is not a deterrent. How different the experience is when you've chosen to climb the mountain in the 2017 Cadillac XT5, the crossover that replaces the SRX in a growing lineup of refined and redefined XT-named utility vehicles. An instant reminder that this SUV is not a Lotus comes as we enter a corner with a smidgen too much gusto, the tires begin to claw for traction, and the seatbelts tighten with the grip of sudden death. A quick tap of the brakes releases the belts, but not before a bead of sweat forms on the forehead. The overwhelming feeling is one of being unsure if this exercise is out of the XT5's comfort zone, despite Cadillac's goal of hitting the high-achieving sweet spot of the sport-luxury crossover segment. You'll know that an XT5 isn't an SRX when you first see one, although the differences are harder to tell when the two are parked side by side. The XT5 is the second Cadillac model to arrive since the brand learned to speak with a New York accent (albeit an affected Soho dialect) and it's a key pillar to the brand's chances at worldwide success. In 2015, the final year of sales for the five-year-old SRX, Cadillac managed to sell almost 100,000 of them around the world – no small feat for a model about to be replaced, and proof of the crossover's relative freshness and its popularity in export markets like China. Like the SRX that precedes it, the XT5 will be available with either front- or all-wheel drive (a $2,645 option), but that's one of few commonalities with the outgoing model. A new, lighter chassis helps the XT5 shed about 300 pounds, although Cadillac favors high-strength steel for bodywork and leaves aluminum for the engine and interior trim. In line with the revised brand guidelines for naming, SRX evolved into XT5, leaving room for larger and smaller utility vehicles to eventually join the lineup.

What will the next Presidential limo look like?

With recent news that the Secret Service has begun soliciting proposals for a new armored limousine, we've been wondering what the next presidential limo might look like. The current machine, nicknamed "The Beast", has a design based on a car that's no longer sold: the Cadillac DTS. If General Motors gets the job again, which wouldn't be a surprise considering the government still owns a chunk of the company, the next limo's shape would likely resemble the new XTS (below, left). But Cadillac hasn't always been the go-to car company for presidential whips.
Lincoln has actually provided far more presidential limousines throughout history than Cadillac. In fact, the first car modified for Commander-in-Chief-carrying duty was a 1939 Lincoln K-Series called "Sunshine Special" used by Franklin D. Roosevelt, and the last Lincoln used by a president was a 1989 Town Car ordered for George H.W. Bush. If President Obama wanted a Lincoln today, it would likely be an amalgam of the MKS sedan and MKT crossover, as illustrated above.
And what about Chrysler? The only record we could find of a President favoring the Pentastar is Nixon, who reportedly ordered two limos from the company during his administration in the '70s, and then another one, known today as the "K-Car limo," in the '80s after he left office. Obama, however, has a personal - if modest - connection to Chryslers, having owned a 300 himself before he took office. A 300-based Beast (above, right) would certainly earn the U.S. some style points.

2016 Cadillac CTS-V First Drive [w/video]

A million insects lost their lives today. Boxelder bugs and mayflies making the ultimate sacrifice in Elkhart Lake, their carapaces no buffer against a rocketing rectangle of safety glass. Their bodies gorily streaking into spangles along the diamond-faceted face of the Cadillac CTS-V. Road America is a four-mile ribbon of pavement snaking its way through the emerald center of the country's northern heartland. Since the 1950s it's seen uncountable fields of diverse racing machinery rocket over its hills and around its 14 corners. I would imagine that on those occasions the tramping of onlookers and hubbub of vehicles, both competitive and commonplace, would dissuade a great number of our six-legged friends from making their way onto the track. But today it's just me turning laps. Inconceivably just one journalist, driving the baddest roadgoing Cadillac ever made, on one of the loveliest circuits America has ever carved out. So big-winged bugs made it out to me in a vast array and a tragic sum, and I drilled through them oblivious to anything but one of the greatest days of driving I've ever had. Cadillac has turned its CTS-V from a performance sedan to a monster. For 2016 Cadillac has turned its CTS-V from a performance sedan to a monster worthy of the carnage described above. The words "epic" and "awesome" are hilariously overused on the Internet, but in the case of the CTS-V's 6.2-liter supercharged V8, their literal meanings are fitting. The capacity to produce 640 horsepower and 630 pound-feet of torque is astounding. Feeling those outputs come to growling life under my foot arch, uncorks different reactions in my brain as the day wears on: first trepidation, next cautious optimism, finally red-eyed bloodlust. A glance at the power and torque curves will show you that the charged V8 behaves more like a naturally aspirated thing than a turbo'd on/off switch. Peak torque arrives at 3,600 rpm, horsepower at 6,400, giving the engine lovely, linear power delivery. Even with top torque happening near the middle of the tach, there's no small amount of the stuff when the engine first spins up, so launching all 4,145 pounds of Detroit iron still feels exotic. Launching all 4,145 pounds of Detroit iron still feels exotic. On the roads around Wisconsin, using all of the available power is hardly advisable, but I have no trouble driving this fast car slowly (sort of).