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Rain spatters the windshield as the clouds hang low, kissing russet-colored heather and glistening grey slate. I'm high in the hills of north Wales, a rolling open landscape dotted with sheep, snug stone farmhouses, and tiny villages suffering severe vowel shortages -- Cyffylliog; Llanfihangel Glyn Myfyr; Bettws Gerfil Goch. I'm here to say goodbye to an old friend.
The streaming wet road swoops down from the crest of the hill, sweeping gently to the right before arcing back to the left and over a bridge. There's a right hander just over the bridge that I now realize is sharper than it looked. I squeeze the brakes hard, flick the shifter back -- fourth, third -- and wait until the last second before coming off the stoppers and turning the steering wheel. The big Bentley turns in obediently, and with little body roll. Just as we sweep past the apex of the turn, I squeeze the gas pedal. It's like opening the floodgates of the Hoover Dam: 738 lb-ft of torque momentarily overwhelms the traction control, and 5699 lb of hand-built British luxury sedan starts drifting elegantly through the turn.
Full Story: Motor Trend - 2009 Bentley Arnage Final Series: A Mighty Heart
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