Jason Harper

My brother-in-law and I recently took a Saturday drive in a borrowed Mini Cooper.

I drive dozens of new cars every year, and while vehicles are safer, more comfortable and largely more efficient than ever before, there are still plenty of duds.

Bentley’s Flying Spur may be new, but it’s very much a throw-back to a specific mark of old-world luxury: the chauffeured British sedan.

The Chevrolet Corvette has long been America’s almost-great sports car.

The recent Pebble Beach Concours d’Elegance in Monterey, California, showcased the rarest and most costly autos in the world, from a 1935 Duesenberg to Ferrari race cars.

The McLaren MP4-12C convertible is the best sports car I’ve ever driven.

I pull a 2014 BMW M6 Gran Coupe, costing $131,000, into a New Jersey parking lot next to a rare $173,000 Audi R8 convertible supercar.

Jaguar’s last real sports car, the E- Type, was released in 1961. A two-door, two-seat coupe and convertible, it is often considered the sexiest car ever made. Fantasize about a Jag, and it’s that low-slung hood and high hips that are sizzling in your mind.

I’m behind the wheel of one of the rarest and most desired Porsches ever made, the 550 Spyder.

How do you master dangerous endeavors except by actually attempting them? Mountaineers have to get on cliffs; racecar drivers have to learn to push the boundaries of speed and traction.

I’m zipping down the freeway at 70 miles per hour in a Mercedes-Benz S-Class and my hands aren’t on the steering wheel.

Meeting your heroes is dangerous; you might end up disappointed. This also holds true for fantasy cars. That exotic Lamborghini you dreamed about as a teen might be a lemon.