Stuck with Strietzel.(Column)

Byline: Matt Davis

Driving an F430, Murcielago or M5 is always a life-affirming experience. It's deactivating these cars' respective forms of traction control that gives me pause to think about my mortality. I always reach for that little button with a nervy trigger finger. All three cars need serious pushing to really lose it, but nonetheless my gumption gets shaky. Generally I wait until there's a closed circuit with broad runoffs and gravel traps before expressing my inner teenager behind the wheel of such rides.

The best way around this (and to learn volumes in the process) is getting exotic taxi rides from the likes of Dario Benuzzi (Ferrari), Derek Bell (Bentley) or Walter Rohrl (Porsche). Or, in this case, Hans-Joachim Stuck-nicknamed "Strietzel'' [shtree-tsul] in mainland Europe and "Stucky'' [shtuh-kee] by English speakers who can't pronounce Strietzel-in the new M5 for a few hard laps around the Valencia circuit. It's incredibly liberating since A) you are in very good hands, B) if the car gets hurt it's not your fault, and C) you could never lap a track as fast as any of these guys.

The nickname of Strietzel is German for a long, braided sweet pastry traditionally given by godparents to godchildren on All Saints' Day. At Stuck's christening his godmother thought he looked as sweet as a strietzel and the name... stuck. On our drive he had the M5's Dynamic Stability Control completely off, the SMG III transmission at the maximum Level Five, Electronic Damper Control on Sport, all 500 SAE hp and 384 lb-ft of torque engaged, and his mind in a psychedelic nickel arcade. Like so many of us 40-to-60-something males, he has no more hair up top. But he has retained that manic disheveled German physicist's mane of flax. He looks thoroughly caffeinated. Seeing as he just recently came in first- and ...