Mssrs. Johnson and Siler at your service.
The Rolls-Royce Phantom and I have a history, and with the exception of a seaside blast in a Phantom Coupé years ago, that history has revolved around me carting around my fellow humans. I spent a couple of days playing chauffeur for automotive gadfly Alex Roy in New York during an attempt at a TV demo reel that never got off the ground. Last year, I spent a couple of days with a Phantom in San Francisco, ferrying Uber fares to and fro. But despite playing a professional driver in a Rolls, I’d never had any formal chauffeur training. So when R-R invited me out to take part in its White Glove Experience to get a taste of the training Rolls offers to private and livery drivers, I could hardly refuse.
Your author at the wheel.
What’s more, C/D contributor Steve Siler was also headed to Vegas to hone his skills. Siler is demanding, discriminating, and was selected last year as one of the 100 Hottest Men of Instagram. A minor celebrity was the perfect passenger upon whom to ply my minor-league chauffeur skills.
A major of the whole experience, of course, is etiquette. Never greet your passengers wearing sunglasses. If sunglasses must be removed, do not prop them up on top of your head. It should go without saying that you should never, ever wear them backwards on your neck, bro-style. If luggage is to be loaded, secure it in the boot before opening the vehicle for your passengers. It simply wouldn’t do to leave the cargo unattended and have a Louis Vuitton overnight bag or a Halliburton case nicked by a passing roustabout.
In the Phantom, a rear bench is an extra-cost option.
When it comes time to offer up the soothing cocoon of the Roller to your passengers, insert your hand—palm facing you—straight down through the handle. Do not grasp it, merely pull outward. This technique avoids an unsightly accumulation of fingerprints on the Phantom’s exterior. When closing the door, assembly is the opposite of disassembly — with a slight twist. Smoothness and finesse are key here—gently close the door until the first latch catches. The auto-close mechanism will do the rest. I found this to be simpler with the Phantom than with the Ghost. Presumably, the more expensive car uses a more precise latching system.
Once your charges are comfortably ensconced in the interior and it’s time to set off, engage the shifter by pulling it toward you and then down into drive, rather than rasping it through the detents. Again, this is more of an issue with the Ghost’s column stalk than with that of its larger sibling. With your exterior mirrors properly adjusted, make eye contact via the interior mirror with your primary passenger, affirm that all is well, then flip it up so as to give them their privacy. Social-media exhibitionist that he is, Siler needed to take selfies in peace, without interference or a judgmental eye from the help.
Because I am apparently a bit of a masochist, I rode The Goose to Las Vegas from Sacramento, battling 40-to-50-mph desert crosswinds on the way home. On the trip out, I chuffed along with the AARP-and-Harley set, all seemingly on a pilgrimage to Laughlin, Nevada, for the River Run. Slaughter was on the bill at one of the casinos in town. For once, I was happy to be headed for Las Vegas. Motoculture asides aside, what I didn’t expect was that chauffeur instruction and basic motorcycling skills would be so compatible. After all, even a six-cylinder Honda Gold Wing only weighs about a seventh of a standard-length Phantom. But what makes for a safe ride on a bike makes for a comfortable one for one’s highfalutin charges.
In an automobile, one can be abrupt and violent with minimal consequence, especially in this day of electronics suites capable of smoothing out many a motoring bugaboo. And although ABS and traction control are becoming commonplace on bikes, it’s still plenty-easy to upset one and smoothness is thus key in both situations. Smoothness comes via awareness of the road surface, potential hazards, upcoming directional changes, and the often-capricious nature of fellow road users. Know what they’re doing and what they’re likely to do. Suss them out. Are they checking their mirrors? They could be about to move over on you. If accelerative g’s will be a less disruptive force than braking would summon, accelerate. If scrubbing speed is the smoother option, get lightly on the binders to give them room.
When it comes time to cut the waft—you won’t be traveling higher than the posted speed limit; that’s a no-no—you’ll ideally hold a constant pressure on the brake, then, just before stopping, release the pedal ever so slightly. Do it right, and there’ll be no kickback when the vehicle finally comes to rest. Siler consistently rated my chauffeur stops between eight and 9.5 white-gloved fingers. He’s a harsh master when it comes to jostle in his life, so I gratefully accepted his less-than-perfect scores and vowed to do better. Once again, the task was easier in the Phantom than the Ghost. In my experience, the big Rolls has turned out to be one of the best vehicles in the world in stop-and-go traffic. The low-speed brake modulation was designed with cities and parades in mind. As a result, trudging along at a crawl is effortless. What’s more, nobody wants to hit a Rolls-Royce, so other vehicles tend to give you a wide berth. When you do nail that perfect chauffeur stop, be sure you can see the tires of the car ahead and a strip of tarmac. You wouldn’t want to get too close to the proles, after all.
When I returned from Vegas, I spent some time honing my skills in a GMC Yukon Denali. Despite what I recently termed a “Salinas-grade” interior, the Denali is actually easier to nail a chauffeur stop in than the Ghost. It makes sense that the UberBlack guys in San Francisco love the big GM utes. In fact, I stayed in chauffeur mode while running errands, hewing to the tenets of White Glovedom all the way down to closing the doors. Since the big Jimmy doesn’t feature auto-close latches, a smooth, firm push with the knuckles just below the window frame served to quietly shut the door.
I didn’t, however, pretend that Siler was in the back seat lobbing catty insults. The goal, after all, was to relax. By focusing on smoothness above all else, I found myself wholly serene in suburban traffic. Next time you find yourself frustrated and irritable in an irrational sea of cars, why not simply pretend you’re doing your damnedest not to jostle Kate and William? It’s surprising what a bit of high-class roleplay will do for one’s demeanor.
This entry passed through the Full-Text RSS service - if this is your content and you're reading it on someone else's site, please read the FAQ at http://ift.tt/jcXqJW.
from Car and Driver Blog http://ift.tt/1EJsYJQ
via IFTTT
0 comments:
Post a Comment