'98 Chevy Corvette Convertible - Cross-Country Test - American

The towering three-story sign loomed up from the flat landscape like a religious monument to the god of pink neon, B-movies, and overpriced bonbon chocolates. Make no mistake: We'd stumbled onto the Route 66 Drive-In. Located on the Mother Road just west of Carthage, Missouri, the vintage theater at first seems to stand in stark relief against our fresh-off-the-assembly-line '98 Corvette convertible, but cock your head, squint a bit, and the two meld to complement each other perfectly.

That's what the devotees call Corvette magic: the ability of any year and color of Corvette to fit in perfectly with virtually any roadside scenario. Rural dragstrip, ancient Moose lodge, abandoned gas station, or derelict greasy spoon, they all look like something out of a Spielberg film when photographed with a Corvette.

Now, here's the irony: Since 1953, America's favorite (and often only) sports car has undergone plenty of stylistic changes but one thing has remained true to the breed-Corvettes make lousy long-distance road-trip cars. To the point: They're cramped, harsh-riding, hot, and there's no good place to put your bottle of Lipton blue label iced tea.

Whoa, friends. Settle down. There's no need to send an avalanche of hate letters or modem-clogging e-mails; I'm a bona fide Corvette fan from way back. I owned a '66 427 roadster, I've tested every new Vette for the past 18 years, and have driven dozens of vintage models. I love Corvettes for what they are, but let's be honest about what they're not. They're not pleasant to be in for any protracted length of time.

Until now that is.

With its ground-up redesign, the C5 Corvette has emerged as not only a world-class performance car, but an unbelievably comfortable-riding grand tourer. Toss in the bargain pricetag, and you have one of the best excuses to spend your money since the introduction of the split-window Sting Ray.

But just how good is the new-for-'98 ragtop version? That's the purpose of this road trip. We'd begun our cross-country adventure at the Corvette assembly plant in Bowling Green, Kentucky, and headed out on the backroads of America-a top-down, wind-in-the-hair romp that would include as much of old Route 66 as we could find between Missouri, Kansas, Oklahoma, and Texas. The car of choice is the first C5 convertible, resplendent in its new-for-'98 Light Pewter Metallic paint and magnesium wheels. After a 100-degree-day's worth of testing in two new ragtop Vettes (a red six-speed and this automatic) with lead-footed Motor Trend Television senior producer Jim Scoutten, my girlfriend and I headed west on a 1700-mile quest.

Trip Note: Which one was Buz? Regardless of anyone's hazy memory, traveling Route 66 in a Corvette is not like reenacting a plot from the vintage Martin Milner and George Maharis TV series. I didn't wear a sweater or get in a single fist-fight the whole way.

Because it was designed as a convertible from the ground up, the droptop Vette exhibits virtually identical structural integrity to the coupe. And that's damn good. The only deterioration in passenger comfort is the noticeable increase in road noise evident above 60 mph (despite the use of a full headliner on the vinyl-impregnated cloth top), which does get a bit annoying as the miles wear on. Fortunately, the uplevel sound system in our test car featured a speed-compensating volume control, which kept our Nat King Cole, Jonny Lang, and Bahu-rang CDs at the proper decibel level output regardless of our velocity.