The long, gray ribbon of highway is clear ahead for miles, and I am traveling at time-dilating speed, something north of 150 mph. For the moment, at least, I am beating that bastard Gluckman; the red Volkswagen GTD that was mugging in my rearview has receded. The road stretches through a verdant expanse of Germany before climbing again to the horizon. My right foot stays planted, the passing landscape nothing but abstracted bursts of forest. Even at this speed, the GTI is imperturbable, a pocket rocket built for warp speed—but not without handicap, as its free-falling fuel gauge reminds me. And so it's somewhere outside Munich, on the edge of the forest, when range anxiety sets in. In a four-day, speed limit-free, public-road race around Germany, this temporary advantage will not hold when pitting the 155-mph GTI's speed against the 52-mpg fuel economy of the diesel-powered GTD. Temporary advantages never do.

We're here because Volkswagen is turning an easy choice—buy the $25,000 GTI because it does everything well—into a tough one. When the seventh-generation version of VW's perennial hot hatch goes on sale in the US later this year, it will be joined for the first time by the diesel-fueled, 181-hp GTD, the same basic package with a more efficient engine. To discover which car is the better all-rounder, David Gluckman and I took them to the only place in the world where the GTI's higher top speed might overcome the GTD's bladder-busting range: The Autobahn. What followed was a four-day, balls-out, quasi-scientific road race to determine if 13 mph of VMax can trump a 15-mpg edge on the European highway cycle.

The trip began and ended in Wolfsburg, home of VW's corporate headquarters, with stops in Cologne, Munich, and Berlin. We followed a prescribed course, maximizing Autobahn exposure and keeping track of time and distance. (We used the Strava smartphone app to log our actual routes as well as speed and time.) To minimize differences between drivers, both cars were equipped with automatic transmissions. Fuel stops counted against time, but bathroom breaks did not. The shortest total adjusted time would win. Simple.

To lend a modicum of impartiality, a coin flip determined car selection: It was heads, so David got the GTD. Le Mans-style start! We grabbed keys, and ... I was forced to follow David, who ended up with the only directions to the official starting line. Civilized driving commenced—for the moment.

Dom Romney

DAY ONE

David As it turns out, Josh made a wrong turn getting onto the Autobahn. I nearly did too, but realized it in time to do a triple cloverleaf and stay on the right road. Giving Josh directions is complicated by the fact that, at 100 mph, I'm actually outrunning my cell signal. Apparently, phones have to search for towers more often at these speeds. I never have this problem when commuting in Michigan.

Josh I am finally on the Autobahn, finally headed the right way, officially on the clock, and thoroughly at home in this car; it's balanced, athletic, upscale, and comfortable. I love it—even more so when I see my first speed limit-with-lines-through-it sign, meaning, well, there's no speed limit. Which is good, because holy hell, this thing is fast. Fast, planted, responsive. When Senior Editor Jason Cammisa wrote "torque steer is blessedly absent" in his first drive of the Mk7 GTI (R&T, July 2013), I was skeptical, but he was spot-on. There's none, and I'm doing everything I can to induce it (mash pedal; hold on tight). At one point, I see the speedometer inch up to 235 km/h. When I pull into Cologne, the data will tell me I hit 238, or about 148 mph. At any rate, I was busy concentrating miles down the road.

David It's almost 11 when I pull up to the Hotel Wasserturm. I beat Josh here, but I don't know how much of that is him getting lost and how much is one car's superiority over the other. I'm just too tired to care. I'm also starving and not used to either my eyes or their targets being stationary, which makes it tough to navigate the hotel's curved hallways. A kind of speed haze has taken over, forcing me to just get to the day's end. I'll pay for it tonight and in the morning. Once Josh arrives, we check the GPS trace and find that, for the part of the official route he covered, he was the winner. Some of that is probably due to him hitting less traffic by effectively starting later. That unwitting cheat. It's a real-world test, so I'll let it slide as long as he doesn't try this again. And I count it as a victory for me, if not the car. After all, I hit 155 mph, which is faster than VW's claimed top speed. But GPS doesn't lie.

Volkswagen Distance: Time: Average Speed: Max Speed: Fuel Stops GTI 361 miles 4:03 89 148 1 GTD 361 miles 4:34 79 155 1

Dom Romney

DAY TWO

David It dawns on me, as day two begins, that driving hard on the Autobahn for the first time is, yes, incredible. But it's also weird. There's order everywhere, laws governing everything, such as when and how you can pass and where you have to slow down in the rain. But there are places you can simply go as fast as you want. Most people don't because fuel is expensive. It almost seems like the privilege is wasted. So we must have looked like nut jobs, driving everywhere full-throttle in what are basically economy cars.

Josh I'm reasonably sure I'm in front of David, so I decide my strategy will be to pull off for gas only when the needle's so low it's practically off the gauge. It's a risky tactic with a potentially huge downside, and it only increases my range anxiety. But at least it's a plan. When I finally do stop, somewhere outside Gruibingen, I go into pit crew mode, ignoring the stares of people clearly confused by a strung-out man in driving loafers sprinting frantic laps around a Golf.

I survey the highway as I refuel, keeping an eye out for the red hatchback to blow by. It doesn't, but I can't watch while I pay because there's no pay-at-the-pump in Germany; you have to go inside.

I get back on the road, back on the gas, and go for it. 14 minutes later, I hit traffic. Of course. The Autobahn is a highway, and Germans commute, too.

David When we started this madness, I thought that looking as far ahead as is necessary at these velocities would be unnatural. Fortunately, it isn't. My brain senses the speed and works overtime to accept it, adapting to the increased need for information. It's tiring, and the only scenery I'm seeing is the road directly in front of me, but otherwise I'm fine. Two days in, speeding along has begun to feel normal. And then I hit traffic.

GTI 341 miles 4:41 73 158 2 GTD 341 miles 4:39 73 148 1

Dom Romney

DAY THREE

David The GTD is growing on me. Not that I didn't like it at first, but it's becoming an extension of my body. (In a good way, nothing gross.) It's quick enough, which is important for all of the slowing down and speeding back up that the opposing forces of German traffic and German speed limits require. But everyone else is driving more sanely, so I don't have much in the way of reference. It even sounds good, which isn't something you'd expect from a diesel.

Josh Fuel stop, not far outside Nuremberg. These interludes are to my disadvantage, but they are becoming welcome. The adrenal dump of constantly pushing toward the limit is exhausting. Gluckman could be ahead of me for all I know, but I still refuel facing the oncoming highway, looking for a red GTD. Here, every car is a no-color: white, black, silver, gray, or somewhere in between. A red hatchback will stick out like some slick, well-orchestrated media stunt. As opposed, I guess, to this one. No red GTDs pass, and I perk up a bit. I'm winning. I'm sure of it.

David Everyone always says German roads are smooth, and they are. But if you want to find out what a suspension can do, try running at triple-digit speed through hills and bends. The GTD never feels like it's going to lose it. The same solidity we've come to expect from the GTI is here. I just hope the diesel's extra efficiency is enough to let me skip as many fuel stops as it takes to break Josh.

Josh On the final sprint of day three, heading toward Berlin, the entirety of our little experiment gels. I flow between respectful commuting at 10 km/h above the posted speed on limited sections and long runs pushing the car's VMax, rocketing through the countryside and passing commuters who must think I'm a madman for wasting $7-per-gallon gas. But the Autobahn isn't the only part of German culture I've come to identify with. After days of driving ludicrously fast and keeping a constant, paranoid watch on my rearview, the droning thump of techno music finally makes sense. On these roads, at these speeds, looking miles ahead, your brain needs a metronome.

David I feel, for the most part, like I'm in a GTI. And I guess that's the point. The only real tells are the color of the plaid cloth on the seats and the badges. At one point, driving down the road, I have trouble remembering which car I drew at the coin flip. I'm also having trouble figuring out who's ahead or most likely ahead. The only thing I'm really certain of is that I'm not Josh.

Josh I lost that fool Gluckman in traffic hours ago; I think I'm in the lead but can't know for sure. At the last minute before hitting Berlin, I dive across four lanes to a gas station so I can top off my tank for a clear shot to Wolfsburg tomorrow. I figure this is a strategy based on planning and efficiency, and thus very German. Passion through resourcefulness is the only way to explain this car, which feels more than its spec sheet lets on: more powerful than its 217 hp, more nuanced in steering than an electrically-assisted power rack should be, more upscale than its $25,000 price tag. I, or, more precisely, the coin flip, chose correctly. I'm winning this race. I'm buying this car. I might even invest in a little techno music label. And then, pulling into the hotel garage, I find an open parking spot—right next to a red GTD.

Damn.

David I'm in my room before Josh hits Berlin, but the victory is short-lived once he reveals his fueling strategy. As it turns out, I'll have to top off first thing tomorrow to make the 230 kilometers to Wolfsburg. He'll sail right by. I try to convince him to do another loop of the country so my advantage sticks, but he isn't having it.

Josh This is now my race to lose. I process the news like a gentleman. Unfortunately, all my jumping up and down and pumping my fist in the air alarms everyone else in the restaurant.

The GTI has a full tank and is the faster car. David has a windscreen full of traffic. The final sprint is on.

GTI 352 miles 3:59 88 156 2 GTD 352 miles 3:59 88 150 1

Dom Romney

DAY FOUR

David We set off early to miss the traffic, which works for around five minutes, basically until I get to the Autobahn. I'm stuck, and I still have to stop for enough diesel to get me to the finish.

Josh If God looks out for fools and those with no internal compass, I am doubly covered. The GTI has a full tank and is the faster car. David has a windscreen full of morning commuters. The final sprint is on.

David I hope against all math that I have enough fuel to coast into Wolfsburg. I don't. My final diesel fill-up goes smoothly until I try to pay. The clerk is studiously arranging things on shelves, and she doesn't initially see me. I don't want to be the Rude American, so I wait in what looks like a patient manner but is, in fact, not. She spots me and turns as if to step over to the register ... and then turns back to whatever she was arranging.

This can't be happening. I start to see everything in slow motion. The idea that this race, so close after so long, might be decided by a gas-station attendant is more than I can bear. The thought of Josh holding this over me—and make no mistake, he will call to gloat on my birthday and every Yom Kippur for the rest of my life—is agonizing. Once the accursed fräulein finally reaches the register and lets me pay, I turn to leave, walking to the door as swiftly and as calmly as I can. The instant it whooshes closed behind me, I sprint the last 10 yards to the GTD. I know I have probably lost the race anyway, but this little debacle didn't help.

I feel like I've let the car down.

GTI 130 miles 1:27 89 143 0 GTD 130 miles 1:41 76 142 1

Dom Romney

Results:

After 1184 miles, nine fuel stops, and 47.4 cups of coffee, the GTI hit the finish line a mere 14 minutes before the GTD on the last day. When we wrangled the numbers, the margin of victory was a remarkably close 43 minutes overall. If the pair had driven just a bit farther, a couple fuel stops would have swung the race for the GTD. Call it a tie.

The takeaway here is surprising: While each VW has its advantages, neither is a compromised version of the other. (Also, Josh should not be allowed to win anything in public.) Both cars offer big speed and fuel economy in a practical, nearly flawless package. Thank the march of progress—if we had tried this experiment 10 years ago, that wouldn't have been the case. Whether you choose the traditional hot hatch king or its oil-burning counterpart comes down to personal preference. In the real world—or Germany—you can't be wrong.

GTI 1184 miles 14:10 19 $426.41 GTD 1184 miles 14:53 25 $353.84

Twin Streaks Showdown

GTI / Gas :

Powertrain: 2.0-liter turbocharged I-4, 217 hp, 258 lb-ft; FWD, 6-speed automatic

2.0-liter turbocharged I-4, 217 hp, 258 lb-ft; FWD, 6-speed automatic 0–62 MPH/ Top Speed: 6.5 sec / 155 mph

6.5 sec / 155 mph Fuel Economy European Cycle / Top Speed: 37 mpg / 10 mpg

37 mpg / 10 mpg GTD / Diesel :

Powertrain: : 2.0-liter turbodiesel I-4, 181 hp, 280 lb-ft; FWD, 6-speed automatic

2.0-liter turbodiesel I-4, 181 hp, 280 lb-ft; FWD, 6-speed automatic 0–62 MPH / Top Speed : 8.1 sec / 142 mph

8.1 sec / 142 mph Fuel Economy European Cycle / Top Speed: 52 mpg / 13 mpg

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