The Lincoln Inaugural

I remember Lincolns going back to Ike. Rakish '57s with their towering cathedrals of taillight housing; ‘58s that resembled Mercury Turnpike Cruisers as designed by original gorillas; the near-perfect ‘62s – one of which bore its own tragic presidential association; ‘70s Town Cars that handled with the finesse of war wagons fording the Pawmunkey; and the 1956 Continental Mark II that remains among the most beautiful cars ever built, and the font of iconic Lincoln styling cues


These and other Lincolns have coursed the mystic chords of memory to end in the car that inaugurates this blog -- the 2011 Lincoln MKS. 

2011 Lincoln MKS

Full-sized, and black-on-black enough for bag jobs, the test Lincoln was a front-driver that sat high on its Volvo-derived D3 platform*where it improved on its predecessor with a re-tuned suspension and a turbo-charged 3.5-liter V6. The effect, once combined with the MKS’s unfortunate use of glittering, multi-colored metallic-flake paint and delicately-wrought 20-inch polished aluminum wheels, lent it the look of a heavyweight contender teetering about in high-heels while on tour with the Chainsaw Kittens.

Although dubious, such design practices keep the big Lincoln from coming across as a hulking ironclad. More successful in this regard are the rising character lines that extend rearward from the MKS’s winged grille in a graceful display of muscularity that better reflects its personality -- especially once on the road.

Inside the test car, a Black Ultimate cockpit with double-stitched Bridge of Weir seats cosseted all in funereal splendor. While the MKS’s high beltline and gun-slit windows gave it an unwelcome sense of confinement, its head and legroom were nonetheless ample. The handsome instrument panel -- traversed by a strip of aluminum recalling machine-turned dashboards of yore -- held an array of buttons and touch screens poised to command to such high-tech esoterica as BLIS and SYNC – the blind-spot scanning and in-car connectivity features that Lincoln alludes to in its smart-luxury ads.

Behind the wheel, drivers feel the Lincoln's taut, solidly-machined character. Underway, passengers enjoy the refined formality imparted by the $48,000 sedan's nosebleed command position. They proceed imperially, their passage through the coarsening world muted by the Lincoln's NVH (noise, vibration and harshness) controlled interior. 

Then they hit the road and the thing goes like Jehu.

We took the road to Gettysburg, bending the blacktop of the old Lincoln Highway that had also bore Confederate forces under the command of Jeb Stuart into battle. Already impressed by the adroit handling the MKS exhibited with aid of its finely-tuned mounts and bushings, bolstered seats and newly-engineered front suspension -- once an un-patrolled section of woodland straightaway appeared, we didn’t hesitate to grant the car named for the Great Emancipator its freedom. At first, the Lincoln’s EcoBoost system (a direct-injection unit that helps the MKS achieve 25 mpg under circumstances other than florsheims-to-the-floorboard acceleration) produced the briefest turbo lag, but this was promptly followed by a spirited surge from the V6 that felt more like a V8 as it lit out from zero to 60 in 5.3 seconds before going on to do four-score-and-seven like Grant took Richmond.
 

President and King. Prophet not depicted.

Gettysburg was rife with tourists, but no amount of cheap spectacle can overcome the sense of glory that a visit there imparts. At least those were our thoughts as they flowed along with the Yuengling at the brewpub-cum-motel-cum-Lee’s-headquarters wherein Elvis solemnly intoned the Battle Hymn on the jukebox. As the Raised-Collar One built to his stirring crescendo, we wondered why Lincoln, the president, was never embraced by Lincoln the car – which, as far back as 1940 – brought out the Continental in an effort to be more European. Perhaps this has had something to do with the Rail-splitter’s folksy, unrefined and American-to-the-hobnails image. Maybe it was because when he needed army wagons, Lincoln bought Studebakers. Dunno. Whatever the reason, Lincoln the car might want to reconsider, as one thing can be said about the man who charged his generals to “go forward, and give us victories” -- under the right conditions, he drove fast. And no one can deny he delivered.

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* Also on the Ford Five Hundred. See the “Reviews in the Rear View” page of this blog.