Like many American gear-heads, I grumble from time to time about the unavailability in our market of certain radically cool vehicles. Year’s back, I was one of 900 of my countrymen to order up the 450hp Audi RS6. It seemed the perfect ‘do-it-all’ vehicle for someone who lives in a region of extreme weather variability and an altitude 1600 meters above sea level. Except—unlike continentals—I couldn’t get the Avant model, which accounts for 80% of the RS6’s sales in Europe. No righteous stealth-wagon for me, alas.

The U.S. gets no Nissan Skyline GT-Rs, no BMW CSLs, no Audi Q17 V12 turbodiesels. No rollcage n’ harness option for a Porsche GT3 RS—a car obviously designed for trackwork. The level of absurdity appears to reach epic proportions when a prospective purchaser finds out he or she can’t get the adjustable hip-hugging buckets and groovy flat-bottomed steering wheel in the sublime Audi RS4. Riddle me that, Batman.

Much of the blame can be laid at the feet of the alphabet-soup of regulatory watchdog agencies that our government, in its infinite wisdom, created to ‘protect’ the American consumer. That Audi wheel? Doesn’t pass some obscure NHTSA (National Highway Traffic Administration) test for driver’s chest impact forces. The seats? Can’t comply with our side-impact laws. Same type of paternalistic pap applies to the GT3’s rollcage, which common sense tells us ought to make the car safer.

The lack of model availability often comes down to EPA (Environmental Protection Agency) regs; it’s too tough for manufacturers to make the sums add up with regard to their low-volume models. Some pass the costs on to their clients; the last-gen V8-powered BMW 5-series’s manual transmission option carried a price premium over the automatic because of how it performed in our CAFE mileage tests. Most manufacturers don’t even bother trying.

On a more pragmatic note, we get none of the terrific turbodiesel offerings from Land Rover, Audi, or BMW. Hence no opportunity to drive a large SUV or sedan and still get over 20mpg. That’s because the great state of California’s CARB (California Air Resources Board) apparatchiks have deemed these super-sophisticated, clean machines—that pump out lots less global-warming CO2 than their petrol counterparts—very, very bad for our health. And no! You cant use a urea catalyst (a la Mercedes’ Bluetec system) to clean ‘em, because CARB thinks the people who buy $50,000 cars are too stupid to have the vehicle’s filter changed occasionally. Sadly, Cally’s emissions laws have been adopted by several of the more populous states in our blessed union, and the result is that 40% of the American public is denied these fast n’ frugal vehicles.

Once I get done hyperventilating about the injustice of it all, though, I realize how darn good we’ve got it. No, we don’t get rabid Renaultsport Clios and Meganes. But, not only do we get dirt-cheap domestics like slide-crazy Mustang GTs and voracious Charger SRT8s. And, exchange rates or no, we get ‘em for less than folk almost anywhere. No huge import taxes like the Far East or the Antipodes, no 20% VAT, and no CO2 tax.

The huge size and ultra competitive nature of our market mean that most cars are sold here significantly cheaper than in their home markets, as well. By my reckoning, companies like Porsche are either loosing money here on a lot of their lineup, or overcharging their buyers big-time in Germany.

Partially due to those very same watchdog groups—not to mention a very savvy consumer base—we also have 10-year/100,000 mile warranties, lemon-laws, and an average level of after-sales care that is nigh on unimaginable in other parts of the world.

Another upside to car-life in the U.S. is that, due to states’ rights laws, (so far) the federal regulatory busybodies have exercised a light hand on the aftermarket. Unlike England, per se, post-purchase mods don’t impact the insurance costs of the vehicles they’re bolted onto. Factors like these have helped that industry burgeon in unimaginable ways. The SEMA (Specialty Equipment Market Association) event in Vegas is now the largest trade show in the world. Whether it’s inner city-inspired 22” rolling stock, big-ass Brembos, hot HKS upgrades, or even 500hp factory crate motors, once you register a car or truck here, you can pretty much do what’cha like to it.

So, despite the fact that I never did get my cool-as-cucumber Q-ship Audi wagon, I am more spoilt for OEM choice—at better prices, and with better after-sales backup—than any normal-income car guy, anywhere. Besides, who really wants a BMW 518i?

I’ve been able to buy and enjoy a myriad of fun rides for relative peanuts. I’ve also been able to mod ‘em—whether for show or go—without worrying overmuch about the quality of the upgrades or big-brother oversight issues. Americans have never had it so good.

Send article as PDF to