A firm, progressive squeeze of the brake pedal eradicates surplus velocity as I smoothly crank the wheel starboard …
My high-powered steed responds with enthusiasm, diving into turn 14, Road America’s final corner before the front straight. A steady foot on the accelerator maintains momentum while executing this maneuver.
Apex behind me, I gently unwind the tiller until the car’s nose is pointed straight enough so I can push it wide-open down this circuit’s fastest section. Fractions of a second pass like minutes, my right foot trembling with anticipation. Finally it’s go time.
In an instant the siren song of a supercharged V8 fills the cabin, whinnying as all 640 horses threaten to break free from their carbon fiber-capped enclosure. The thrust is astounding, abundant enough to make your ears pop while cresting the small rise a few hundred feet ahead.
My palms, lightly gripping the suede-wrapped steering wheel remain dry, even as the deceleration zone approaches at unworldly speed. “Damn,” I think to myself, “Just missed it.” The digital readout indicates 149 miles an hour as I once more call on the Brembo binders with urgency. “Just one MPH short of a buck-fifty,” I mutter to myself. Missing this milestone is hardly the car’s fault; I ran out of courage long before the 2016 Cadillac
CTS-V stopped pulling.