Each one of Cadillac’s lineup of CTS-V flagships are the automotive equivalent of a 9-pound hammer, vehicles of such brutal power and felonious fuel economy they make gearheads cheer, environmentalists scream and small children cry.
Every one of them is big and mean, with an engine two sizes too large and a blatant disregard for fuel efficiency. They are exactly the kind of cars self-righteous idiots point to while denouncing Detroit and General Motors as being hopelessly out of touch.
They can all get stuffed. The weapons-grade version of the CTS wagon is an insanely fun, absurdly fast and remarkably refined vehicle, quite capable of running with the best European cars.
We’ve known Cadillac could dish out some serious hurt since 2009, when the CTS-V sedan elbowed its way through the crowd like a belligerent drunk and delivered a beating to almost anything that crossed its path. The sedan begat a coupe so potent it prompted Cadillac’s return to racing. But General Motors didn’t stop there.
Someone at GM decided that what the world really needs is a CTS-V Wagon because, you know, a 6.2-liter supercharged V-8 good for 556 horsepower is just what you need for running to Costco.