Porsche Cayman S

Europe on 291 horsepower a day.

A sign up ahead reads, "Worms 1000 meters." I know just how those people feel. We've been ravaging these European highways for about 19 hours and subsisting on a gas-station diet of vacuum-packed tomato sandwiches and a mysterious starch product called Crispers. Our supply of cookies is dangerously low, as are our vitamin E, riboflavin, and pantothenic acid. Should we really be doing 137 mph?

Most press-introduction drives follow fastidiously planned routes. In this case, Porsche gave us a brief presentation, tossed us the keys at the factory in Zuffenhausen, Germany, and asked that we return in 36 hours-with the car. We went straight to a gas station and bought a book of maps. It had Europe, Iceland, and a few places in Turkey that we just might reach if we chose to give up sleep. Later, we figured out how to operate the Cayman's navigation system, so the map book went under the seat.

For those just returning from the seasonal whale hunt, the Cayman S is the new hard-hat version of the mid-engine Porsche Boxster-a Boxster with a hardtop, or mit Kopf as the Germans might say. It's also a Boxster mit new front bumper, titanium-colored body accents, and extra body curves. The Cayman's hips rise a half-inch higher to meet the sleek roofline slope. A small ducktail spoiler deploys upward on struts at 75 mph.

Only big-engine "S" versions of the Cayman are available for sale at the start. The 3387cc flat-six shares bore-and-stroke specs with the previous-generation Porsche 911 and dynos at 291 horsepower and 251 pound-feet of torque, 15 more horsepower and pound-feet than a Boxster S. For now, all Caymans are being built in Uusikaupunki, Finland, by Valmet Automotive, an independent supplier already assembling Boxsters for Porsche. The Cayman S's fixed roof and an extra crossbeam behind the seats make it twice as stiff as the Boxster S. The Cayman S is also 10 pounds lighter, according to the press kit. The promise of nominally better performance, insists Porsche, justifies the U.S. base price of $59,695 (and $69,910 with our test car's options). It's $10,400 cheaper than the cheapest 911, but base to base the Cayman commands a $5800 whistler of a premium over the Boxster S. We're struggling to see why.

We're also struggling to escape from Stuttgart. It's day one, and our initial plan, to beat it south into the passes of the Austrian Tyrol, has been scuppered by lousy weather. I'm okay with an epitaph that reads, "Last seen in opposite lock on a rain-slicked and fog-shrouded switchback above Kitzbühel," but Russell, our photographer, pleads for sun. At the moment, blue sky lies only to the north and west.

We make for the Rhine, the last resting place of the Franco-German border after centuries of bloody tug of war. The Cayman takes up a relaxed residence in the autobahn's left lane, cruising with the BMWs and Audis at 110 mph. Its flat-six engine lives under a carpeted mound behind the seats and makes a brassy exhaust whine familiar to all Porsche owners. The background whirring of belts and accessory pumps and the thrum of meaty 19-inch Michelins are noises cooped up by the Cayman's roof. The only physical evidence of a real engine is a small panel in the trunk that flips open to reveal water and oil filler caps.

Once upon a time, you couldn't cross into France's Alsace-Lorraine region at Baden-Baden without being lanced, hacked at, cannonaded, or raked by machine-gun fire. We exit the motorway into a landscape that rolls and swells with green postage stamps, the late-summer crops elephant-eye high. From every tiny village of half-timber cottages rises a church spire, from every window hangs a box overflowing with flowers. A white stork circles lazily in the brightening sky. Packing light was an unnecessary precaution. Cargo capacity is an Accord-like 14 cubic feet, split between the front trunk and the gaping, forward-hinged hatchback. Leave the Cayman idling while you load bags, and the twin exhaust pipes fluffle your pant legs. Head- and legroom are ample for six-footers.

Wandering west through the Vosges Mountains toward Metz, we stumble on a suitably flat road to run some impromptu quarter-miles. As with other Porsches, frantic axle hop makes our six-speed Cayman S tricky to launch (a Tiptronic is available). The numbers are virtually identical to a Boxster S's: 60 mph in 5.1 seconds, the quarter in 13.4 seconds at 105 mph. Huge calipers clamp massive steel brakes (ceramic composite discs are an option) for 70-mph stops in a brief 147 feet. They feel touchier than typical ferrous brakes, but there's no doubting their stopping power.

Circling the 13th-century Cathédrale Saint Etienne in Metz, we can't find a suitable hotel. The Grand Duchy of Luxembourg, boasting the highest gross domestic product per capita in the world ($58,900 according to the CIA Web site-and they should know) is just up the road. Dotted with Disney-like castles and bisected by the startling deep gorge through which meanders the Pétrusse River, Luxembourg is deluxe.


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