I feel like I just climbed out of one of the rarest most exotic cars I've driven in quite some time. It's Mitsubishi's Outlander XLS. A vehicle I don't recall seeing myself pass once during my two weeks with in the Outlander. That does make it seem rather special. As does the full roster of gizmos and gadgets on this loaded example: Navigation, hands-free Bluetooth communications, keyless entry and starting (one of those features that seem utterly frivolous until you trade back into a car without it during winter-coat-and-gloves weather), xenon headlamps, automatic wipers, and even a one-touch three-blink turn signal system-a feature Japan has been very slow to adopt. Not only that, but the interior is assembled with incredibly tight panel gaps, a pleasing black and cream contrasting leather interior, sunroof, and a reasonably responsive 3.0-liter V-6/six-speed automatic powertrain and switchable front-drive/all-wheel-drive/four-wheel-lockup transfer case. That's impressive content for a vehicle with a $26,495 base/$31,754 as-tested sticker price (which can certainly be dickered down substantially these days).

What's more, the free thinkers at Mitsubishi have had some fun with their navigation screen. What the heck, it's there, might as well cram it with unusual content, right? Many are novelties you'll show your pals once -- like the Vehicle position screen that indicates exactly where overhead each of the GPS satellites is, along with the lat/long coordinates and street/city/state names; the calendar page that allows you to save important dates, assigning each an icon from a choice of nine; and an environment page that lists temperature, barometric pressure, and altimeter reading (not terribly accurately -- it varied 350 feet in fritter-flat Detroit), with a three-hour history chart of temperature and altimeter; and a maintenance screen that lets you keep track of your last oil/filter change, tire rotation, air-filter swap, and three other user-defined items. Then, of course, there's the usual trip-computer screen with average speed, average and instant fuel economy, distance to empty, distance since last fill-up, and elapsed driving time.

Playing with these screens provided enjoyable distraction on the deserted streets of largely unemployed Motown, but there were a few things about the Outlander that were less laudable. Like a rambunctiously high idle (1200-1500 rpm) when cold that increased the braking effort required to stop the thing from 25 mph to an alarming level when leaving my neighborhood on 10-20-degree mornings. And in order to achieve its passable 17/23 mpg EPA ratings, the gearing is tall and the transmission strategy is optimized to climb into the highest gear ASAP, which results in an occasional lugging sensation. Oh, and if you're one of those read-the-manual folks, you'll want to have the salesman hook your phone up to the Bluetooth system. For some reason (channeling my Yin energy?) I tried to read the manual FIRST but couldn't find a single syllable devoted to telephone setup in either the main manual or the multimedia entertainment system manual. I finally just pressed the voice-command button and said "help." The nice lady then led me through the procedure fairly easily. (Which of those actions was more emasculating: reading the manual first or ending up asking for directions? With a bit more red meat at lunch I'd have probably just yelled and pounded the dash.)

The Rockford Fosgate sound system seemed amply capable of piercing eardrums on demand and reproducing music in a lifelike manner, but I longed for a volume knob and a seek/tune button or knob on the radio head unit. Overall I was impressed with the Outlander and found it preferable to the Infiniti G37 I traded into in a few respects -- the hands-free-entry system was better and Infiniti hasn't invented that three-flash passing feature. It is, however, a car for optimistic contrarians whose concern for rarity/exclusivity outweighs pedestrian concerns like resale value. They'll be delighted.