Nothing mixes business with pleasure quite like a Mitsubishi Lancer Evolution. Here you have an unassuming four-door economy sedan, festooned with a body kit that could elicit envy from Pamela Anderson and that behaves like a caged tiger that hasn’t yet met a tranquilizer dart, able to ferry the kids off to school each morning right before ripping the paint stripes off a favorite twisty road. Incredible.

Rev it to about 3,500 rpm, dump the clutch, and you might as well be strapped into a NHRA dragster. Telepathic steering that is seemingly hard-wired to your nervous system allows you to place the Evo exactly where you want it, when you want it, but watch the boost, because a deep dip into the throttle at the wrong time can widen the Evo’s arc and rapidly add unexpected velocity. Brembo brakes respond to each nuance of input exactly as desired, and with 17-inch Yokohama tires combined with AWD the Evolution grips tighter than a sumo wrestler amped on a triple-shot Caramel Macchiato with a Chantico chaser.

Yet in traffic, where the Evolution is likely to spend plenty of time, the car is docile, easy to drive, and doesn’t beat you up with a rough ride. The steering hunts annoyingly over rough patches at low speeds as the steamroller performance tires are tugged to and fro, and I wished for a height adjuster for the outstanding Recaro sport seats, but otherwise, the Evolution serves as a terrific daily driver if you don’t mind fuel economy in the teens. Pop open the rear doors, and a wide, featureless bench seat provides accommodations for two adults, and under that ridiculous rear wing is a good-sized trunk that can easily handle a week-long road trip’s worth of luggage. It’s not even that loud inside.

Thankfully, our Evolution MR test car was painted dark gray with dark gray wheels, making it as invisible as an Evo can be to both radar guns and law enforcement retinas. Still, I don’t understand how any Mitsubishi Evolution owner manages to keep a driver’s license. Each corner becomes the carousel at the Nurburgring, every intersection the staging light at Irwindale, every urban grid the circuit at Monaco. With the Evo, it is far too easy to succumb to temptation. You don’t want another ticket. You don’t need another ticket. And yet, as soon as a hole opens in traffic, the clutch goes in, the revs get matched, a lower gear gets selected, and you’re off like Sierra BlitzKing bullet.

Seriously, the Evolution is to sedans what the annual Adult Entertainment Expo in Las Vegas is to conventions. If self-control is not in your repertoire, avoid this raging Mitsu or you’ll be taking the bus within a year. – Christian Wardlaw

Photos courtesy of Erik Hanson