Let’s get the basics out of the way first.
The TT RS is fast (2.5L turbo charged 5-cylinder engine, 0-60 mph in 3.6 seconds, 360 horsepower, etc.).
It looks awesome. This is a fact. At least a dozen people on I87 have the sore necks to corroborate that statement.
It’s fun to drive. It’s low, like being in a bobsled, with wide tires and short-shift 6-speed manual transmission. It’s not as quick as the Porsche 911 Turbo, but it’s close - and it’s half the price.
The TT isn’t new by any means. The squashed-bug looking body hasn’t changed much since it debuted in 1998. But the TT RS - the super high performance, $65,000 (as tested) version of the compact sports car - first appeared in 2009. It didn’t reach American soil until earlier this year, and via some cosmic delivery system, it arrived in front of my apartment sometime last week.
It’s also not the car you want to be driving in the thick Puerto Rican Day Parade traffic. So on Sunday, I dipped upstate to one of the coolest fine art museums in the country, the Storm King Art Center in the Hudson Valley.
Once beyond the George Washington Bridge, the TT RS feels less like a car, and more like a man-piloted bullet.
Even while it’s parked at the curb on my block in Brooklyn, the TT RS is the topic of conversation.
Frank, from across the street, asks about the color, “My wife and I have been arguing about it all morning. Is it white, or is it grey?”
I check the one-sheet. The color is listed as Suzuka Gray Metallic.
Frank throws his hands up in disbelief. In the sunlight it looks a metallic white, he says, and it’s clear he’s lost the argument.
Later, Josh from two doors down invites me out to New Jersey Motorsports Park, “To take the car on the track,” he adds. Of course.
Josh drives a late model BMW M3 convertible with a few aftermarket modifications. He’s peering past me, ogling the car’s interior - the thick stitching on the leather seats, the chrome trimmings on the dash and console. He’s got that dopey, open-mouth stare you see on married men in strip clubs.
And out of the city we go.
Once beyond the George Washington Bridge, the TT RS feels less like a car, and more like a man-piloted bullet.
And there's a massive, three-footed Buddha standing on his own head.
Storm King Art Center is a huge outdoor sculpture park about an hour north of NYC. It’s 500 acres of meadows and woods, populated by more than 100, mostly ginormous, works of art. It costs 12 bucks to get in, and once you’re on the grounds it’s basically a free-for-all hiking/exploring/grass-lounging adventure.
There are giant, steel, shiny, red structures that look like industrial building scraps arranged and stacked into piles and towers. There are windy stone walls that weave through the woods. And there's a massive, three-footed Buddha standing on his own head. The whole thing is best experienced without consulting the map. Tuck your dorky dad instincts in your fanny pack, wander at your own pace, in whatever direction you find most compelling and you’ll be rewarded with the discovery of some very big, impressive objects.
It's hard to say which was more fun, the drive or the art center. But who needs comparisons anyway? In this case, the two experiences were perfectly complementary—beautiful design, powerful engineering and more than a few “holy shit” moments.
Home again, I pull the car up to the curb and get out. And here’s Tony, the old guy from my building. Tony’s a 100 years old. He sits in a folding chair on the stoop all day and doesn’t say a single word because that's how 100 year old guys do. He glares at me, the coupe, and me again.
There are many metaphors that would illustrate Tony’s disappointment in seeing a car like the Audi TT RS on his block—what, with its low slung body, futuristic curves and the deep note that bellows from it’s tailpipe.
A car like that is bound to piss Tony off. After all, the neighborhood's changing.
And he's definitely not getting any younger.
Photography by Noah Johnson
