Watkins Glen, New York — A modern luxury SUV and a race car are automotive bookends. So I drove the Lincoln Nautilus to Watkins Glen Raceway this fall where I would be racing my Lola sportscar.

At 2.5 G-load in the lightweight, 1,335-pound Lola around Watkins Glen’s 180-degree high-speed Turn 5, my arms strained to maintain the car’s trajectory while my helmeted head threatened to pop off my neck.

I’m not sure the handsome 4,554-pound Nautilus land yacht has ever experienced a G-load.

Rolling quietly down I-86 in eastern New York on my way home from The Glen, I relaxed for miles — hands on my knees while Lincoln’s Blue Cruise driver assistance system drove — in Redwood Venetian leather seats, as if lounging in my TV room. Indeed, the 48-inch screen that sprawled from A-pillar to A-pillar beneath the windshield is just seven inches smaller than my home’s 55-inch jumbotron. Blue Cruise asked only that I not look away from the road for very long.

The Lola also has a digital screen, a tiny unit that requires my undivided attention lest I miss a shift and blow the 2.0-liter engine sky-high while traveling at 140 mph between The Glen’s blue tunnel of guardrails. My race seat? Like sitting in Cedar Point’s upside-down Raptor coaster ride’s five-point body harness (the race car has a six-point harness for good measure, plus twin forearm restraints).

Ahhhh, the escape of Lincoln luxury.

The brand for years tried to play catch-up to German and Japanese luxe-makers with trendy alphanumeric badges like MKZ, MKS, MKC and WXYZ (kidding about the last one). Argh. Lincoln finally came to its senses and realized proper names are as American as, well, Lincoln.

They rebooted with the Lincoln Navigator mega-ute, kicked sedans to the curb and rebooted as the posh boulevard-cruisers that made Ford’s premium brand a post-WW2 icon. Navigator is the unmistakable outsize-personality, Shaq O’Neal-like captain of the team — but it’s the 2024 Nautilus that sets the tone for what’s to come.

My Nautilus is on the bleeding edge of high-tech comfort.

Mercedes has long been the standard, but Lincoln is easier to drive than the German while carrying a 10 grand-cheaper sticker price. Regular readers of this column know I’m leery of haptic-touch controls, but Lincoln has beautifully integrated digital and analog features.

Cruising hands-free on I-90 through Pennsylvania, the Nautilus automatically adjusted its velocity to the speed limit. In construction zones, I would take control of the wheel, then — without looking away from the road — use my thumb on the rubber, steering-wheel touchpad to adjust cruise speed up and down. Resting my thumb over Braille-like raised dots on the pad, the screen in front of me mirrored my finger movements.

It’s magical — and more intuitive than Mercedes’ haptic-sliding controls that force your eyes away from the road. The Merc wows with big screens choked with state-of-the-art graphics, but the Lincoln’s jumbotron is superior with comparable graphics and head-up positioning so that everything is in your line of sight.

Culling from its storied past, the wraparound interior echoes Lincoln’s classic 1993 Mark VIII “fighter cockpit.” Fast forward four decades and — where the sleek Mark VIII’s radio used to be — there is an 11-inch touchpad controller so you can adjust what information you desire in the 48-inch screen.

“Whoa! That is cool,” gasped my friend Peter each time he changed the view with a simple drag-and-drop of an icon.

“This is the coolest SUV you’ve had yet,” said my discerning 34-year old son — historically a tough consumer to please. My millennial son is exactly who Lincoln is targeting with all this tech, which, to be honest, was overwhelming to some of my 60-something peers.

Screen tech is second nature to the Gen-Y iPhone generation, and my son thrilled at the freshness of the gadgetry — including voice commands enabled by the Google-based operating system.

“Change driver temperature to 70 degrees,” barked my son on a chilly Watkins Glen morning.

“Play Spotify,” he said as we switched between car and wireless-connected Android Auto systems.

This is a Tesla-generation Lincoln, yet the brand still provides a thoughtful mix of touch and analog controls to navigate the cabin. Exiting my Glen motel each AM, I went through my settings routine via a series of console toggle switches: Turn off the (annoying) STOP-START button; punch the 360-degree camera button to make sure my land yacht exited its tight slip without incident; toggle the DRIVE MODE button to … ah, fuhgeddaboudit.

Just keep it in NORMAL or CONSERVE mode.

Before Watkins Glen built its majestic, world-famous, epic 3.4-mile racing facility overlooking Seneca Lake in 1956, the surrounding, twisting, public roads were used for competition. The old 6.6-mile public road course is still a hoot to drive — in a stick-shift sports car.

The Lincoln ain’t interested. How do you know? The shift buttons are piano keys. This ute is a dining car, not a vehicle you row hard with paddle shifters or stick shift. Nautilus offers a choice of 250-horse/280-torque, 2.0-liter turbocharged inline 4-cylinder, or a sippier 295-horse/310-torque hybrid-electric drivetrain. My standard, 250-horse engine was fine in getting the 2½-ton ute up to a speed where I could put it into adaptive cruise control/Blue Cruise.

Around The Glen’s remote rural roads, Blue Cruise was not available. I ferried my family in the Nautilus’s palatial interior — complete with the roomiest rear seats in the mid-size class, lotsa storage nooks and digital scents. Digital what?

Yes, Lincoln even offers different scents so the cabin could pleasantly smell of MYSTIC FOREST, OZONIC AZURE or (family preferred) VIOLET CASHMERE. Sure beats body odor at the end of a long race day.

After the race weekend, Nautilus made for an easy 7 1/2-hour trip home around Lake Erie. With all-wheel drive and spare tire, the Lincoln was a reassuring ride across the remote (sometimes dirt) roads of western New York state. Blue Cruise was a welcome chauffeur on much of the trip, but — with plenty of audible warnings — it went off duty through a heavy rainstorm and Cleveland’s strange highways.

Who puts a 35-mph hairpin in the middle of I-90? Native Clevelanders know the famous left hook well, but Blue Cruise checked out. The 21^st century Lincoln Nautilus robot is here — but it still requires a human hand. Just like a race car.

Next week: 2025 Nissan Kicks

2024 Lincoln Nautilus

Vehicle type: Gas-powered, all-wheel-drive, five-passenger luxury SUV

Price: $52,210, including $1,595 destination charge ($77,520 AWD Black Label as tested)

Powerplant: 2.0-liter, turbocharged inline 4-cylinder; hybrid-electric drivetrain with 2.0-liter, turbocharged inline 4-cylinder

Transmission: Eight-speed transmission (2.0L); CVT (hybrid)

Weight: 4,554 pounds (as tested)

Power: 250 horsepower, 280 pound-feet torque (2.0L); 295 horsepower, 310 pound-feet torque (hybrid)

Performance: 0-60 mph, 7.3 sec. (Car and Driver, 2.0L); towing, 1,750 pounds

Fuel economy: EPA est. 21 city/29 highway/24 combined (2.0L); 30 city/31 highway/30 combined (2.0L); 25 mpg as tested (2.0L)

Report card

Highs: Well-executed, big screen interior; pleasant exterior

Lows: Uninspired 4-banger; Blue Cruise requires constant attention

Overall: 4 stars

Henry Payne is auto critic for The Detroit News. Find him at hpayne@detroitnews.com or @HenryEPayne.

Nashville, Tennessee — If I lived here in America’s Music City, I would buy a manual 2025 Honda Civic Si, move south of the city and take the twisted, vacant Natchez Trace Highway into work every day. SPORT mode. BWAAAUUWWWWW! Shift to 4^th. BWAAAUUWWWWW! Downshift to 3^rd with rev match. BWAP! Back on the throttle. BWAAAUUWWWWW! Glorious.

If I lived in Los Angeles? I would buy a sippy 2025 Honda Civic Sport Touring Hatchback hybrid. ECON mode. In bumper-to-bumper traffic on I-5, the hybrid would creep silently on electric power under 15 mph. When the traffic freed up, I’d activate adaptive cruise control and slipstream behind traffic getting 47 mpg. Take that, $5-a-gallon gas.

If I had a 16-year-old in Oakland County? I’d buy them a $25K Civic LX. Honda Sensing suite of safety systems standard: collision mitigation braking, lane-departure warning, driver-attention monitor, auto high-beam headlights, adaptive-cruise control. Fun, safe.

King Civic has long been at the top of the compact retail sales game because it appeals to a wide swath of drivers from youthful to frugal to those with a need for speed (me).

For the 2025 model year, the 11^th-generation Civic is a microcosm of where the U.S. auto market is headed.

The manual gearbox was once the standard transmission for compact automobiles due to its affordability and superior fuel mileage. No more. Multi-speed and continuously-variable automatic trannies are not only easier to use, they’re more efficient — saving dollars over the lifetime of a car.

Sticks have become an enthusiast niche. #SaveTheManual, we cry. Performance markers have listened. Porsche’s GT3 sportscar offers a manual. So does Mazda’s Miata and Mazda3 cars. Civic saves the manuals for its enthusiast-focused Si and Type R pocket rockets.

Old Hillsboro Road near Natchez Trace looks like a twisted USB cable, its asphalt ribbon gnarled with dips and turns. Happily, the Civic Si’s manual is one of the industry’s best, matching Porsche and Mazda with crisp, short throws. Adding to the joy for 2025 are shift lights and rev-matching.

Like a modern race car, the digital tachometer’s horizontal display lit up yellow as I approached the 6,200-RPM redline, blinking red at the shift point. I rowed the box hard through the curves, never missing a shift — maximizing the car’s 192 pound-feet of torque.

Which ahem, is 66 less than the 2025 VW Jetta GLI that I recently tested. And 117 less than the Mazda3 Turbo. Hmmm.

Honda has been stubborn about upping Si power output with the horsepower number stuck at 200 since, well, the ol’ 2006 Civic Si in my driveway. No wonder the ’25 model has shift lights to keep it in the meat of the torque band.

Si continues to develop in other areas like the chassis, which has been stiffened — and in smooth, satisfying, rev-matching downshifts. Flying low across the Tennessee landscape, it was hard to notice that the Si was a FWD car, so natural is its rotation through corners.

If it’s more torque you want, check out the Civic Hybrid hatchback. It’s Honda’s answer to the Toyota Prius hatchback.

The 232-torque battery-electric compact is a pivotal development in Honda’s history. The Japanese brand has dabbled in hybrids before, debuting the nerdy Insight alongside Toyota’s (more successful) Pious — er, Prius — from 2000-06 and maintained a steady, niche diet of green-focused hybrids since.

Insight made a repeat performance from 2010–14 and again in 2019–22. Civic even adopted a hybrid from 2003-15. Now hybrids are fringe nerd-mobiles no more. They’ve become lineup essentials to meet tightening government emissions regs — even as governments punish other alternative-powertrains like diesel.

Hybrids are as mainstream as bread and butter, and Honda targets 40% sales of its core Civic, Accord, CR-V models to be gas-electric.

Gone is the upmarket 180-horse, turbo-4 engine that Civic previously offered alongside the base, 150-horsepower/133 torque, 2.0-liter gas-burner. Instead, Honda paired the 36-mpg base mill with a battery and electric motor, and — voila! — a 47-mpg highway hybrid available for Sport hatchback and Sport Touring hatchback/sedan trims.

I silently crept out onto Nashville’s city streets before the gas engine kicked in. Merging onto I-40, I nailed the throttle and the electric motor’s torque pushed my blue Sport Touring Hybrid hatch effortlessly into morning traffic.

Batteries and electric motors don’t come cheap, and the Hybrid upgrade will set you back an additional $2,000 over its gas counterpart. That cost is in line with the upscale Prius, not the cheaper $29K Toyota Corolla Hybrid. Honda sweetens the deal with goodies like a 9-inch infotainment screen, leather seats, moonroof and wireless Apple CarPlay/Android Auto complemented by wireless charging so my Android’s battery didn’t expire while it navigated me south.

If hybrids are now mainstream, then Honda wants you to know that, over the next decade, it’s going all-electric. Dubbed the “Second Founding,” the brand’s methodical battery-powered makeover is foreshadowed by the Civic Hybrid’s twin regen paddles.

Rolling up to stoplight, I used the left paddle for maximum, four-level regen — slowing the car with the electric motor without touching the brake. Fun toy. Other neat features include a pull-over shade to hide valuables under the hatchback, Google Built-in software and rad 18-inch wheels.

One feature the Hybrid model doesn’t have is a spare tire. Blame the heavy battery’s need for space.

But the base LX model has a spare. Just the sort of thing you want for your teen’s (or any owner’s) first car. I’ve had two flats in the last two years — one of them on a remote drive — and it’s nice to have a spare on hand.

Indeed, there are few compromises to buying the standard, most-affordable $25K Civic. 36 mpg? Check. A suite of safety features? Check. Good rear seat room for your tall basketball pals? Check. Good looks? Yup.

With its clean lines (and a little plastic surgery to the ‘22 Civic’s hood overbite), Civic models a timeless, athletic look. Inside, steering wheel ergonomics are first class, as is the premium-looking horizontal dash that’s a step from class competitors. Dude, check out the honeycomb dash detail.

All those standard items and premium touches have inflated the Civic’s bottom line. This is no entry-level bargain like, say, Chevy’s terrific $21,495 Trax SUV. Then again, Trax can’t offer you a bargain, corner-carving, manual like $31K pocket rocket Si.

The electrified era looms, but there’s nothing that satisfies like a good ol’ fashioned stick on a country road.

Next week: Lincoln Nautilus road trip

2025 Honda Civic/Civic Si

Vehicle type: Front-engine, front-wheel-drive, five-passenger sedan

Price: $25,345, including $1,095 destination fee ($34,045 Hybrid Sport Touring Hatchback and $31,045 Si as tested)

Powerplant: 2.0-liter 4-cylinder; hybrid, 2.0-liter 4-cylinder mated to twin electric motors and lithium-ion battery; 1.5-liter turbo-4 (Si)

Power: 150 horsepower, 133 pound-feet of torque (2.0L); 200 horsepower, 232 pound-feet of torque (Hybrid); 200 horsepower, 192 pound-feet of torque (Si)

Transmission: Automatic, continuously-variable transmission (2.0L); electronic continuously-variable transmission (Hybrid); six-speed manual (Si)

Performance: 0-60 mph (Hybrid 6.2 sec., Car and Driver); top speed, 114 mph; 0-60 mph (Si 6.6 sec., Car and Driver); top speed, 135 mph

Weight: 3,225 pounds (Hybrid); 3,000 pounds (Si, est.)

Fuel economy: EPA, 32 mpg city/41 highway/36 combined (2.0L); 50 mpg city/47 highway/49 combined (Hybrid); 27 mpg city/37 highway/31 combined (Si)

Report card

Highs: Sippy now Hybrid drivetrain; terrific Si saves the manual

Lows: Hybrid comes with price bump; no AWD option

Overall: 4 stars

Henry Payne is auto critic for The Detroit News. Find him at hpayne@detroitnews.com or @HenryEPayne.

Tillamook, Oregon — As Monty Python reminds us, cheddar is the most popular cheese in the world. Tillamook makes some of the world’s best, and its flagship creamery is on Oregon’s Pacific coast. It’s a great destination for a family adventure in, say, the 2025 Buick Enclave.

Buick’s flagship SUV offers a lot of goodies for your cheddar.

Starting at $46K, the tasty, roomy, three-row ute comes standard with blind-spot assist, adaptive cruise control, rear-cross traffic alert, 30-inch-curved-Porsche Taycan-like screen display, wireless Apple CarPlay/Android Auto, phone charger, heated steering wheel, heated vinyl power seats, second-row captain’s chairs and a lifetime’s supply of Tillamook cheese (kidding about that last part).

Add all-wheel drive for northern winters and a convenience package that includes must-haves like a panoramic sunroof so the kiddies can get a tan in the third row, and my favorite, black-trimmed ST model clocks in at $54,043 — just five grand above its cousin Chevy Traverse Z71 model that I flipped for early this year, and $12K south of a comparable Audi A7 45.

The American west is an epic place with Pacific Ocean views, southwest canyons and Rocky Mountain highs, and General Motors Co. offers the C1 platform-based, three-row Buick Enclave, Chevy Traverse and GMC Acadia SUVs to take you there.

Enclave makes its case in a crowded premium segment with a buffet of competitive options. The Buick makes an aggressive value pitch by undercutting luxury Germans as well as premium peers like the $60K-plus Lincoln Aviator, Volvo XC90 and Acura MDX A-Spec. Only the classy inline-6-cylinder Mazda CX-90 Turbo Premium Plus undercuts the Buick’s value at $51,450.

Enclave cements its value with a simple, standout interior.

I know, you want to do that Pacific road trip in a Cadillac Escalade — but then you choke on the $80K sticker like a mouse ingesting a half-pound Tillamook cheese wheel. Never fear, Buick is here.

In addition to that stunning Porsche Taycan curved screen is a floating console island right out of a Cadillac Lyriq. Oooooh, check out the enormous purse-storage cavity underneath The side-by-side cup holders, the yuuuuuge wireless phone charger. The space was opened up moving the shifter to the steering column.

Its creamy feel is mated to, um, a coarse-sounding 2.5-liter turbo-4 engine that powers the GM SUV trio. It droned away even in my sporty looking ST model. By contrast, Ford’s (similarly-priced), growly ST-line turbo-4 sounds like a cornered badger. Now, that’s what a premium turbo-4 should sound like.

Hands-free Super Cruise is available on some secondary roads in the 2025 Buick Enclave.

Henry Payne, The Detroit News

Happily, the 4-banger is a torque monster, and Enclave had no problem powering over the Oregon Coast Range on its way to the Pacific coast from Portland — inhaling cool air as the temperature dropped from the Columbia River basin’s 90 degrees to the Pacific Coast’s 60 degrees over 80 miles. Man, I love this country.

If the engine running the wheels lacks moxie, then the Google Built-in operating system running the dash displays is an iMax movie experience by comparison.

Navigating to Tillamook, I toggled through multiple instrument display modes to put the navigation map — Audi-style — on the screen right in front of me. This freed up the right side of the 30-inch jumbotron for the passenger to adjust, say, radio stations on GM’s best-in-class Sirius XM interface. Google Built-in desktop offers multiple apps like your car. Ambient light color adjuster, radio, Park-assist. Like a smartphone, you can slide any of them to your shortcuts menu for instant access.

If you live in a city, you might want Park Assist in your shortcuts for parallel and perpendicular parking.

In the town of Oceanside, I sidled up to a parallel parking space, and the Buick instantly identified the open space on my right. Then I sat back and watched as the Enclave automatically backed into the space without my touching the wheel or pedals. Nervous about where the four corners are on your three-row SUV? Let Park Assist help.

For true road warriors, I recommend the $3,225 Super Cruise hands-free driving option. The industry-leading system (better than Tesla’s pioneering Full-Self-Driving system on my Model 3) allows you to relax on divided freeways, eat a meal, or enjoy an extra layer of security when you travel two-lane byways.

I’m not sure many customers will drop that kind of coin on a system that, understandably, will freak them out at first. Better if GM outfitted every Enclave with Super Cruise hardware (as Tesla does) then let customers pay a monthly subscription. Once you’ve tried Super Cruise, you won’t go back.

Speaking of going back, the big Enclave — like its GM sisters — offers one of the roomiest back seats in the three-row aisle. Enclave marketer Pam Walz says her two young kids prefer the third row over the second. It’s cozy, has cup and French fry holders, and offers a USB-C port  for each passenger.

I’m with the kids: I like the third row as well. In my case, I like flattening the second-row captain’s chair in front of me and using it as an ottoman for my 6’5” frame. Whether working on a laptop off the Buick’s built-in Wi-Fi — or just relaxing — there is no better seat in the house.

GM is my benchmark for good interior ergonomics, but the Enclave makes a coupla curious feature choices. Like its Chevy cousin, it offers volume and station control buttons on the back of the steering wheel. Unlike the Traverse, the cruise control tools on the front of the wheel are not as intuitive — and are oddly mixed in with a voice recognition button. Drivers may wonder why the headlight controls are in the center screen rather than on the left side of the dash. Or on the left stalk.

Overall, though, Enclave is a first-class study in design and value engineering. With up to 523 miles of range, it will get you across the West’s vast spaces without the range anxiety of electric vehicles creeping into GM’s portfolio. And, unlike those 6,000-pound EVs, the Buick’s relatively light, 4,800-pound girth was easy to maneuver, even on Oregon’s twisted mountains roads.

With a long journey back to Portland ahead of me, I didn’t linger at the Tillamook creamery. But had my wife and two kids been on board, we would have made an afternoon of it. And when we emerged with an arm-full of cheesy comestibles for when we felt a bit peckish?

There’s plenty of storage under the cargo floor in back.

Next week: 2025 Honda Civic Hybrid/Si

2025 Buick Enclave

Vehicle type: Front-engine, front- and all-wheel-drive, six-passenger SUVPrice: $46,395 base, including $1,395 destination fee ($54,043 ST as tested)

Powerplant: 2.5-liter, turbocharged inline-4 cylinder

Transmission: eight-speed automatic

Power: 328 horsepower, 326 pound-feet torque

Performance: 0-60 mph, 6.5 seconds (Car and Driver est.); towing capacity: 5,000 pounds

Weight: 4,800 pounds (est. AWD)

Fuel economy: EPA est. 20 city/27 highway/23 combined (FWD); 19 city/24 highway/21 combined (AWD)

Report card

Highs: Stunning interior, value pricing

Lows: Course turbo-4; some awkward feature controls

Overall: 4 stars

Charlevoix — One of comedian ‘n’ musician Steve Martin’s ol’ stand-up routines celebrated the banjo.

“When you’re playing the banjo, everything is OK,” he said, merrily strumming his favorite instrument. “I think the banjo is the one thing that could have saved Nixon. Think if he had been traveling around the country and got off the plane and said: ‘I’d like to talk about politics, but first a little Foggy Mountain breakdown.’ The banjo is so happy.”

The same could be said of the Alfa Romeo 4C.

The wee, mid-engine sportscar is one of the most joyous automobiles ever made. Accelerate through the gears on a curvy rural road and the 2,464-pound roller skate squirts forward with a calliope’s soundtrack — BWAAAHH! FFFT! HAWWMP! FOOOOSH! Downshift into a turn — BWOMP! FRRRZZZZ! WHOOOOOMP! — and the carbon fiber chassis demands more throttle. WHRAWHAWWWWW!

I review new cars for a living, but there are old icons worth revisiting. The 1959 VW Beetle, 1988 Porsche 944, 2001 BMW M3 E46, 2016 Dodge Viper ACR. The Alfa was made for four glorious model years, 2015-18, and became an instant classic. It had the unique, engaging personality of, well, Steve Martin.

As we embark on an era of commoditized electric vehicles built from the same platforms powered by the same lithium-ion batteries, the 4C may be remembered as one of the finest species of internal combustion sportscar.

It is the antithesis to the EV Era’s defining car, the Tesla Model 3.

Sitting inches apart in my garage, they are miles away in purpose. The all-wheel-drive Model 3 Performance is an electronic gaming console; the rear-wheel-drive Alfa an analog wind-up toy. The Model 3 is operated by a 15-inch screen; the Alfa has, um, a radio. The M3 boasts Autopilot software; the 4C has no power steering. Under hard throttle, M3 is stealthy as the wind; 4C farts like Deadpool after a dinner of pork ‘n’ beans.

The M3 wants to drive itself, the 4C demands to be driven. Just beware of road trips.

The Alfa is as close to a race car as you will find on the street. It is the rare production car built from ultra-stiff carbon-fiber monocoque “tub” construction like an IndyCar or IMSA prototype. Aluminum structures cradle the engine in back, the suspension in front. My Lola race car is made with a similar monocoque design (aluminum riveted tub instead of carbon fiber) and has zero body roll. It’s designed for a billiard-smooth race track.

I took the Alfa 4C on a road trip up north, and I can tell you where every single bump was on I-75. The interstate was under construction from mile post 92 to 125, with both northbound and southbound traffic sharing the rough southbound lanes while the northbound lanes were reconstructed. WHUMP-WHUMP, WHUMP-WHUMP, WHUMP-WHUMP went the Alfa over each broken seam. I placed the wheels on the asphalt ribbons that separated the lanes to survive the punishment.

Mile marker 125 brought (brief) relief as I returned to smooth pavement. But once in Flint, there was no escaping the buckled seams between each concrete patch. WHUMP-WHUMP, WHUMP-WHUMP, WHUMP-WHUMP. Chinese water torture is banned from international warfare? This is worse. WHUMP-WHUMP, WHUMP-WHUMP, WHUMP-WHUMP. I winced anticipating each seam until the torture mercifully stopped and fresh pavement returned from Bay City north.

Turn onto M-32’s twisties west of Gaylord and enter Elysium.

With sticky Pirelli P Zero summer tires at each corner, the chassis hugged the road like a blanket. Storming across the landscape, I spied in the distance a speedy Subaru WRX, one of the most competent performance sedans on the market. A full 1,000 pounds lighter than the Subie, the Alfa obliterated it through a series of S-turns before I popped across the broken center line of a straightaway to pass.

My momentum carried me quickly alongside, but the Alfa’s mere 1.7-liter turbo-4 is horsepower limited at 237 ponies, and the 271-horse WRX could have given me a run. Mercifully, the driver was a good sport, tooting his horn and giving me a big thumbs up as I passed. I pulled back into the lane ahead, annihilated another S-turn, and was gone.

Thumbs-ups are contagious, and not just from fellow motorheads. People love this car with its Italian supercar lines and cute, bite-size proportions.

At Michigan Beach in Charlevoix, my Italian meatball was a feast for the eyes.

“Ohhhhh, here we go!” called out some young lads.

“That’s beautiful. But how do you fit in it?” said a middle-aged lass staring up at my 6’5” frame.

Quite comfortably, actually. The monocoque’s tall sills are a challenge to swing your legs over (passenger Mrs. Payne was careful not to wear a skirt), but once inside, the seats are on the floor like a race car. A Toyota Supra, in comparison, feels like getting into an SUV.

“Can I raise the seat?” asked my motorhead friend Bob. Nope.

Seated low, the engine behind your ear, the car’s mass rotating around you, steering rooted to the earth, you feel at one with the road. Curiously for a car this playful, a stick option was never offered, but the dual-clutch, six-speed box is lightning quick and paired with shift paddles. It feels like carbon-tub supercar $500K Ford GT or $300K McLaren 720, but at a fraction of the cost.

With low mileage, a used 4C today goes for about the same price ($55K) as it did new in 2015 (not adjusted for inflation). For that, you get a fraction of the power from the 647-horse Ford or 710-horse McLaren. The Alfa lacks those cyborgs’ explosive acceleration. But that’s not a bad thing, given that public roads aren’t 45-foot-wide racetracks.

By all means, take the 4C to a track day when you can, but in the meantime, it won’t turn your hair white when you try launch control on a public road. The 4C is pure dopamine, a Cedar Point roller coaster ride.

Good thing, because there’s not much to engage you inside the cabin. The Alfa is spartan. Big console screen with wireless Apple CarPlay and back massage? Fuhgeddaboudit.

You get a radio. Period. No cruise control. One cupholder. No frunk storage. The rear hatch won’t even fit a banjo.

Come to think of it, the stiff 4C does share one thing with a gotta-stop-for-lengthy-charges EV: don’t make it your primary road-trip transportation.

Henry Payne is auto critic for The Detroit News. Find him at hpayne@detroitnews.com or @HenryEPayne.

Next week: 2025 Buick Enclave

2015-18 Alfa Romeo 4C

Vehicle type: Mid-engine, rear-wheel-drive, two-passenger sportscar

Price: In 2015, $55,195

Power plant: 1.7-liter, turbocharged 4-cylinder

Power: 237 horsepower, 258 pound-feet of torque

Transmission: Six-speed, dual-clutch automatic (with paddles)

Performance: 0-60 mph, 4.1 seconds (manufacturer)

Weight: 2,464 pounds

Fuel economy: EPA 24 mpg city/34 mpg highway/28 mpg combined

Report card

Highs: Italian sex appeal; race-car handling

Lows: Few amenities/storage options; stiff ride

Overall: 4 stars