2008 Audi R8 - Conclusion - Travel Feature

Judicious enforcer of rapid Ka-band

It always happens when you least expect it. Get comfortable and get nabbed. With two more PCT crossings in the books - White Pass on Highway 12 and Snoqualmie Pass on I-90 - and Mt. Rainier and Mt. St. Helens looming behind (weather and closed roads have stopped us from getting up close and personal with either), we're cruising on Highway 97, heading toward the Bavarian village of Leavenworth. The speed limit is 60 but we're rolling at 80, the R8 amused that I'm consuming these luscious sweepers at such a leisurely pace. The sun is blazing, the sky is radiant, the traffic is light, and my Valentine One radar detector is quiet - too quiet. Simultaneously the V1 explodes in a Ka-band eruption just as Vance shouts, "Cop!" I engage each of the R8's 24 brake pistons and bring the car down to 60 but, as the JERK turns around, I know it's too late. "That JERK waited to flip on his radar," I tell Brian in my defense. Uninterested in our mission and indifferent to the R8's capabilities, the JERK cites me, lightening my wallet by $153. And just to kill me with kindness, he says, "This is a beautiful car." I'm tempted to show the JERK just how beautifully the R8 can blaze from 0 to 60 in 3.9 seconds and through the quarter mile in 12.5 at nearly 112 mph, but I instead thank him and move on.

At Stevens Pass on Highway 2, we cross the PCT for the 19th and final time. We hoped to make a 20th crossing on Highway 20, but WDOT informs us the road through the North Cascades is still closed due to snow. Not surprising - the Washington section of the PCT claims some of the trail's most erratic weather patterns. We enter Everett and hop back on I-5 for a sprint north through Bellingham, then up into Sumas at the Canada border. The PCT is about 100 miles away, but this is as close as we're going to get.

Lacking cigars and Champagne, we instead celebrate by lighting memories and swigging numbers: Campo, 3096 miles, Black Rock, Mt. Shasta, 31 summits, 19 PCT crossings, Lake Tahoe, Seattle, the Hunter/Gatherers, the JERK, Palm Springs, and on and on. Staring at the filthy R8, which looks like it's been baked in chocolate milk, I realize that, after spending about 150 hours behind the wheel, I want more. Few cars in this realm are such lovely road-trippers, whether the path is long, short, straight, or curvy. The cabin is roomy, the comfort level high, the enjoyment factor off the charts. As we climb back in, the cockpit loaded with dirty clothes, empty bottles, and torn candy wrappers, I think back to the moment that nearly prevented us from being here - the blizzard at Crater Lake. It then dawns on me that the real beauty of the R8 isn't cruising Rodeo Drive or South Beach, reveling in the attention and glamour; it's taking it on a trip like this. After all, how many can say they drove a $125,000 super car...in a blizzard...near the shores of the deepest lake in the nation?

By the numbers: Up the PCT