2022 Lamborghini Urus Graphite Capsule Ag Luxury Wheels on 2040-cars

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2022 New York Auto Show Roundup | All the reveals, reviews, pictures

NEW YORK — In case you missed it, the New York Auto Show took place this year after being canceled in both 2020 and 2021 due to Covid. A lot of manufacturers showed up in force, but not everybody did. No matter, we were there, and we brought you news, photos and scoops from the floor throughout the show. All of our New York-related stories can be found at our central hub here, but if youÂ’d rather just get a small taste of everything in a quick and digestible format, keep scrolling. 2023 Kia Telluride and its new X-Pro trim Kia revealed the TellurideÂ’s first major refresh at New York, and it makes the three-row crossover a little bit more desirable without screwing up what we liked about it before. ThereÂ’s a new X-Line and X-Pro trim for someone who might want a little more off-road capability, and a number of tech improvements. Most notably, a newly-designed dash features new and bigger screens. 2023 Hyundai Palisade The TellurideÂ’s sister car from Hyundai was treated to a similar refresh. Like the Telluride, Hyundai gave the Palisade a slightly revised look, a new off-road trim (called XRT in the PalisadeÂ’s case), more tech inside and a new dash design with full-width air vents. If we had to choose, weÂ’re a little more impressed with the TellurideÂ’s refresh, as a number of us on staff actually prefer the pre-refresh Palisade styling over the new one. 2023 Jeep Wagoneer L and Grand Wagoneer L This one was inevitable. Jeep revealed the longer, roomier versions of its Wagoneer and Grand Wagoneer in New York, and theyÂ’re designated with an “L” at the end of their names. Total length grows by a foot, and the wheelbase goes up by 7 inches versus the standard Wagoneer models. Jeep has essentially allocated all this extra room to the cargo area, as it now offers a staggering 44.2 cubic-feet of space behind the third row. Besides the L, Jeep announced that its new Hurricane inline-six engine would find its first home in the Wagoneer. Efficiency gets a small boost, and power is more than sufficient at either 420 horsepower (standard output) or 510 horsepower (high-output version) from the twin-turbo I-6. Chrysler Airflow Graphite Concept The Stellantis party continues with Chrysler and its slightly revised Airflow. Re-styled for the New York market after initially debuting at CES in Las Vegas, the Airflow Concept gets new paint, changed accent colors, a slightly changed interior design and a new interpretation of the Chrysler logo.

Lamborghini Aventador LP 750-4 SV retails for nearly $500k

Nobody ever said that buying a new Lamborghini would be an inexpensive proposition, but if the ~$200k sticker price on a new Huracan strikes you as high enough, you're don't even want to know how much the Raging Bull's new flagship costs. Presented this weekend for the first time in North America at the Amelia Island Concours d'Elegance, the new Aventador LP 750-4 SV will set American customers back an eye-watering $485,900. Add to that the $3,700 gas-guzzler tax and $3,495 destination charge and you're looking at $493,095. That's just $6,905 short of half a million, and even that will disappear pretty quickly once you factor in all the gasoline and rubber you'll be burning through if you do right by the beast and actually drive it... not to mention insurance. That makes the new SuperVeloce nearly $100k more expensive than the Aventador coupe on which it's based, but hardly the costliest Lambo to date. That honor would go to the Veneno, which cost around $4 million. The half-million sticker price nets a twelve-cylinder supercar with 740 horsepower on tap, a 0-62 time quoted at 2.8 seconds and a top speed pegged at 217 miles per hour, making it one of the fastest cars money can buy – a stacking up rather well against hypercars like the Koenigsegg Agera, Pagani Huayra and Bugatti Veyron that cost many times more than the Aventador SV. Related Video:

2015 Lamborghini Aventador LP 700-4 Roadster Review

"Lamborghini Murcielago." That's what I would tell anyone who asked what my favorite car was. Yes, there were easier cars to drive than the wailing wraith from Sant'Agata Bolgnese, and that was partly why I liked it so. It was impossible to see out the back – reversing was easiest done with the door open, sitting on the sill. My head banged the door frame when I checked traffic on the left. The seat made my butt hurt. The cabin ergonomics were based on a design language that humans haven't yet translated. It boiled over in stop-and-go traffic. It was big. Yet it drove like nothing else, with the instant zig-zag reflexes of a mako designed in The Matrix. The Murcielago's thrills weren't laid out on the ground, you had to dig for them with your bare hands. And that's what made it outstanding. When I first drove the Aventador at its launch in Rome, I spent the day blasting around the circuit at Vallelunga. It was so easy to drive – "too easy by half," as Jeremy Clarkson would later say of it – viciously quick, unholy fun, and very good. But it was a little too easy to drive. Which is why the Murcielago remained my favorite car, ever. Until two weeks ago. The Aventador came when the rough-diamond Gallardo was Lamborghini's in-house reference for ease-of-use. But now we have the fire-and-forget Huracan. Having driven one after the other, and on the context of LA streets instead of the smooth and open landscape of Vallelunga or Laguna Seca, I now see the Aventador for what it truly is: the representation of the bull that's on the Lamborghini badge – head-down, horns-out anger. Like the Murcielago, the Aventador is big. It's more than ten inches longer than a Chevrolet Corvette, five inches wider than a Dodge Charger SRT Hellcat, and 3.5 inches wider than a Dodge Viper. It is also low, an inch lower than the already ground-floor Huracan. I won't pretend to be rational about it: the Aventador says everything I want a car to say. It's the certain, antidotal statement to brief and befuddled everyday lives. The cabin is a cockpit in every sense: close-fitted, button-filled, lit up. I'm five-foot-eleven, and I wear it like a tailored suit. I gave a ride to a guy who's six-foot-three and perhaps 260 pounds, so it can fit much larger frames but I still don't know how he got in or out through that scissor-door opening. The trunk in the Murcielago was big enough to hold a single dream.