The steering feel; that’s what I remember best. The pinion perfectly meshing with its rack was a tactile delight in my fingers, giving a sense of well-bedded and properly oiled Olde English machinery cheery in its work.
Second impression: the way that long, lazy-seeming six awakened at 3000 rpm and eagerly rushed toward 5500, expressing its joy-of-life with a raucous rasp exploding from the over-under exhaust barrels just beneath the open cockpit.
