What the Hell is a Rossion?

Upon first glance my system of scientific beliefs was immediately challenged as it seems the only way a car like this could exist is through divine intervention. When god created the sports car, this is surely what he intended.

As my eyes resumed focused, the lustful gaze having sent them for a tizzy, the true absurdity of the Rossion Q1’s existence hit me.  For starters, most the current exotic car glamor items are largely absent and I for one am not complaining.  No dual clutch gearbox, no hybrid powertrain, no traction or stability controls, and no driving modes that dictate the cars behavior.  The only thing separating you from the guard rail is the modicum of self-control you have (or if you were born with my disposition, the intense guilt you feel whenever endangering the continued proliferation of the Jewish people.)

So just what in the hell is a Rossion?  Based upon the epic but somewhat less than reliable earlier Noble supercars of Great Britain, two American blokes decided to take another stab at the already wonderful recipe by buying the rights from noble, opening a facility in Florida and creating a hyper car that stands in stark contrast to the contemporary meaning of the term. The Rossion is light, it’s composite panels really the only thing masking the monocoque upon which it is based.  Undo the hood and bonnet to reveal the gorgeous wishbone suspension, have a perfect view of the engine, and really understand this modern take on Colon Chapman’s famous adage to add lightness. Building upon that, this is adding lightness with a sledgehammer.  A Twin turboed Ford Duratec V6 is mounted behind your head making a rather insane 450 HP in a car weighing 2475 pounds, resulting in a power to weight ratio that rivals a runway model on speed.  Before you get your panties in a twist over the “pedestrian” Ford engine, don’t forget the an Aston Martin v12 is basically two ford engines bolted together and a Bugatti Veyron is at the nuts and bolds of it two VW v8’s living in over engineered German harmony.

Hitting the road makes for a most interesting foray into a world where one must recalibrate their senses lest they wind up in the nearest ditch.  Fast is not an accurate adjective. Blindingly fast suggests you somehow lose focus of the speed.  This is otherworldly fast, the kind of acceleration that makes you wonder just how in the hell what you’re currently doing can ever be construed as legal, much less wear a number plate and registration tag.   It is shockingly, abdomen crushingly, license eviscerating fast.  0-60 in near as makes no difference 3 seconds will do that, and this is without a fancy pants gearbox or launch control.

Fast we can at the very least expect out of the Rossion’s delightful recipe, but perhaps the most impressive feat is what happens when you stay out of the triple digits and meander along our third world rivaling American excuse for pavement.  Over potholes and expansion joints, your spine is decidedly not being shattered, with a Lotus Evora rivaling surprising amount of compliance, all the more laudable due to the lack of magnetic infused suspension trickery.  The air conditioning is cold, the radio and power windows work, and nary a squeak or rattle comes form the shockingly not at all crappy interior.  You really begin to question that the Germans had nothing to do with this.  It really is an incredible feat.  I'm not saying you'd cross shop this with a Mercedes SL63AMG but for a car like this, the interior far exceeds expectations.

Handling wise the lithe Floridian is decidedly neutral and balanced.  None of the tail out antics that you’d expect from something with the development budget of a zip lock bag are present. In fact, truth be told, the handling is damn near epic.  It may be loud and responsive and utterly visceral, but it really is a peach to toss around, with enough tactile information coming though to let you know what Phylum that inspect you ran over belonged to. Your grandmother could heel and toe her way down to the supermarket without breaking a sweat if she was so inclined.  But she wouldn't be-resisting throwing this thing into a corner is as futile as turning down a particularly hot and bothered Mila Kunis.  The Rossion gives you the noises and G’s you might associate with the moment before everything turns into a wonderful fireball, but it just wont happen.  It’s so stable, so well sorted, and so progressive that you’d have to do something outlandishly obnoxious to get things hopelessly sideways.

What you’ve got here then is quite the cohesive package.  It’s good looking, well made, not exceedingly expensive, and somehow found the time to go to finishing school.  Your average country club valet will have no idea the tail lights are from a Hyundai (really Rossion... please change this).  The Rossion is perhaps the last remaining vestige to truly involving vehicles.  The lack of electronics may have been a budgetary necessity, but the end result in an ever-rarer driving experience uninhibited by the confines of safety and common sense. This is pretty epic, a oneness with the automobile that has all but been eradicated from the automotive landscape.  I’m not implying the McLaren MP4 12-C, for example, is anything less than stellar but it’s lacking a little something, as to bake up a 12C is to spend millions of man hours fine tuning algorithms and shaming an MIT professors understanding of physics.  With the Rossion, you can feel the gear headed insanity behind it all.  You know they didn’t dwell on computer models when they were developing it.  They tightened this bolt, changed that suspension dampening, increased this fan speed, and then tore it around a racetrack until it was just right, and you can feel that human element through the steering wheel every time you turn it on.  This car was designed to delight the senses without concern for the numbers-the fact that it happens to put down some giant killing specs is a happy bonus.

The Rossion is not devoid of faults, nothing endearing ever is after all.  Where to get it serviced, the lack of traditional financing, the borrowed bits giving away its kit car origins, etc are not without due pause and concern.  This car however, is a right turn when everyone is telling you to go left.  It's taking the corporate ladder, tearing it off the wall, and using it to assault your way to the top instantly.  It's skipping work and getting a fancy hotel room with the lady friend.  It's the perfect song at the perfect time.  Life is too damn short to worry about the durability of your cup holders.  This car is an ever rarer chance is flip normalcy the bird and laugh in the face of federal vehicle compliance, marketing departments, and by all means common sense.  Being cautious and making to do lists is what got us the Toyota Camry.  This car is what got us to the moon.  Embrace the imperfections, take a chance, and drive past the Ferrari dealer this one time.  In 30 years when the car is long gone you're not going to care about retention values or practical matters.  What you will have is an everlasting devilish grin that can only come from doing the wrong thing for the right reasons. Years from now I think people will be craving cars like this in the same way that salvation army adorned hipsters spend thousands on record players because they crave the warmer, more human sound of times past.  If you can purchase a Rossion, do it, and thank your lucky stars that in our mad world of looming autonomous vehicles and artificial sound generators that this Rossion can somehow squeak past the fun killers and manage to exist.  I’ll have mine in midnight blue please and feel free to lop the silencers off the exhaust.  The neighbors need something to remind them they're alive.