MINI has done more than make history. It has arguably had a hand in reducing the size of cars in America today. Four years ago, there was little or no market for mini cars, with the exception of VW's Beetle, which is larger and longer than the MINI. Sport utility vehicles were big, growing bigger in size and price. Fast forward to 2003; parent company BMW sold 36,000 MINIs in U.S., a demand that out-paced its inventory, and boasted of J.D. Power customer satisfaction numbers for front seat roominess, gas mileage, price operating price, cost resale value, and layout, among additional attributes, that other manufacturers would love to achieve.

As we travel along our prescribed route, numbers soon begin to seem like such little things. They float away in the breeze, replaced by what's MINI big: fun, personality and zippy performance-based handling, and now topless zest, in two all-new ragtop versions, the Cooper and Cooper S. Factoid: In the early days of open motoring, men would specifically grow mustaches to trap small particles of dust, oil and gasoline, seeking to capture the true essence of open motoring. Genetically un-programmed for a mustache, I let my long hair blow in the wind, and head out into the Land of Ten Thousand Lakes, with my top down and the MINI's throttle wide open. I secretly hope that my blond locks will trap large particles of the scent of open-air freedom and will linger long enough to replace the canned oxygen of my next day's airplane rides.