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2016 Mazda CX-5 [w/video]

It's difficult for me to get excited about crossovers. I try hard not to be the stereotypical car guy: ignoring the fact that the rest of the world loves these tall hatchbacks, while yelling, "station wagons make more sense!" until I've voided my lungs of air. Deep down I am that guy, but I work around it. Historically the Mazda CX-5 is one crossover that has been quasi-immune to my knee-jerking. It doesn't weigh two tons, offers a manual transmission (in poverty spec, but still...), and looks faster than its competitors. Most importantly, the CX-5 can round a corner without wobbling like a Slinky at the top of the stairs. No item on that list of plaudits would likely crack the top ten "desirables" for average small CUV shoppers. So, for the 2016 update, Mazda instead upgraded the in-cabin experience along with the requisite nips and tucks to the exterior. I borrowed a 2016 model CX-5 to see whether or not those concessions to comfort affected the car-nerd stuff. And to see if the Mazda could still be my go-to CUV recommendation. Driving Notes The engine options are unchanged for 2016. You can still have the fine, 2.5-liter four-cylinder engine, with its 184 horsepower and 185 pound-feet of torque, or its wimpier 2.0-liter lil' brother. My fully spec'd Grand Touring came with the bigger engine, which feels adequately powerful for the class, but not quick. In an era where turbocharged engines are everywhere, revving the Skyactiv 2.5-liter up to its torque peak at 3,250 rpm takes some commitment. I'm annoyed that there's no manual offered with the 2.5L (a combo I can have in both the Mazda3 and Mazda6), but I don't hate the automatic transmission. The six-speed unit is unobtrusive 99 percent of the time; something I regretfully can't tell you about certain nine-speed autos. There are no paddles to play with, but you can tap the shift lever up and down if you're struck by a need for total control. With a new center console and dash, and the addition of the Mazda Connect infotainment system, the '16 CX-5 feels like a new vehicle from behind the wheel. An attractive, pliant, leatherish material swaths the neat console and surrounding real estate. And the perforated leather seats feel damn near upscale. I think that Mazda Connect's version of the central control knob (with handy adjacent volume knob) is almost luddite-proof in its simplicity. There's no latency between twisting and reaction on the screen.

Question of the Day: What's the most irritating car name?

You hear a lot about how the Chevrolet Nova was a sales flop in Mexico because "No va" means "it doesn't go" in Spanish; in fact, the Nova sold pretty well south of the border, and in any case most Spanish-speakers know that "Nova" means "new" in Latin and Portuguese. However, General Motors doesn't deserve to be let off the hook for bad car names, because the Oldsmobile Achieva— no doubt inspired by the excruciating "coffee achievers" ads of the 1980s— scrapes the biggest fingernails down the screechiest chalkboard in the US-market car-name world. That is, unless you think Daihatsu's incomprehensible choice of Charade was worse. Meanwhile, Japanese car buyers could get machines with cool names like Mazda Bongo Friendee or Honda Life Dunk. It's just not fair! So, what car name drives you the craziest? Related Video: Auto News Design/Style Chevrolet Honda Mazda Daihatsu Automotive History questions car names

2014 Mazda6: Winter's End Update

The Winter Without End is seemingly dead. Outside my office windows, my brown and yellow lawn is fully exposed to the increasingly powerful sunshine, the morning birdsong is louder than anything until the garbage trucks start rolling, and I'm seriously considering having the summer tires put back on my personal fleet. That last one is a little scary, as I'm a firm believer in the April Snow Jinx, but you get the idea.
The long-term Mazda6 has also long since left my driveway. Looking back on my notes from the time it was in my charge, however, I see all remarks are dominated by one highlighted section at the top: "worst winter drive of all time." I hardly need the reminder, to be honest. Here's what happened.
When the Mazda showed up at my door, we'd already fitted the thing with its new winter rubber: Bridgestone Blizzaks. Plunking down for dedicated snow tires was a near necessity this year - as it almost always is in Michigan. We didn't see much reprieve from snow-choked, iced over roads here in Ann Arbor, and the knobbier rubber proved invaluable in getting me out of my house time and again.