OK, so maybe you’re not the reincarnation of Argentinian racing legend Juan Manuel Fangio. Maybe your prowess on the track is more akin to that of Juan Valdez driving a donkey loaded with coffee beans. No matter. This is Las Vegas, the city where every schlub can be a star, and now every wannabe can drive a racing Ferrari.
They say collectors buy what they wanted but couldn’t afford in their youth, and it must be true, because hundreds of beautiful, lust-worthy, collectible motorcycles are rolling into town to be auctioned off this weekend. I’ve got my eye on one in particular: a 1984 Yamaha RZ350 two-stroke screamer complete with “King” Kenny Roberts’ signature on the cowl. So, I’m warning you right now: step off, it’s mine.
A dusting of asphalt particles wafted in the open window of the 2011 Jaguar XKR, coating the “warm charcoal” leather interior—with contrasting stitched accents—in a fine grit. Very uncivilized. I was warned. The instructor riding in the passenger seat lectured me about object fixation, smooth inputs and the punch of the Jag’s 510-horsepower, supercharged V-8 when it’s freed from the electronic traction control, a sort of leash that won’t allow the Jag to spin a wheel no matter how bad the driver.