As a consequence of my venture into the world of writing, I've had the pleasure of interviewing a varied mix of personalities over the years. They've included a wide range of auto enthusiasts — from weekend racers and driving instructors to automotive vendors and car show junkies.

The most common response to the question of what attracted them to a particular car or brand was inevitably the unique sound. The turn of the key, the waking of the engine and a blip of the throttle evoke a similar reaction from nearly all of them — the distinct and personal tone that escapes from the tailpipe.

Experts say smell triggers more reaction in the human brain than that of the other senses, but I'm starting to build a substantial case that they are simply wrong. Motor-heads the world over will consistently spend more on the production and alteration of sound than they will for horsepower.

They'll justify a performance exhaust system (as I did) for the increase in power and throttle response, but when pushed to honesty, they'll eventually confess they just liked the tone it produced.

I shouldn't have been surprised then at how many interviews ended up on the subject of music. Many had an ear for composition, were musically gifted or otherwise melodically inclined. I don't think this is a coincidence.

I entered a local car show once — a 40-minute ride from my house with a splendid route to the event. I was delighted that the cool autumn air allowed for windows-down cruising, the better to hear the growl of my Porsche Cayman through its altered exhaust system.

I deliberately left earlier that morning just so I could traverse a covered bridge on the way to the event. I paused above the creek below to simply bathe in the marvelous noise that bounced off the timber enclosure into my open cabin.

The route included a variety of blacktop ribbons, with twists and dips that begged for lower gears to coax snarling pops from the exhaust overrun. The burble of the engine emitted a magical tone I wouldn't have suppressed with even the best driving music.

Arriving at the show, my Cayman and I joined the throngs of other tuned motors. Much like an orchestra warming up for a concert, each had its particular melody, composed together in brilliant harmony.

That afternoon, an organized group of exotic supercars rumbled into the event, fashionably late with their Ferraris, Lamborghinis and Porsche variants. Attendees and entrants alike turned simultaneously from whatever had previously held their attention, drawn like zombies toward the arriving hardware — mouths open and eyes glazed.

None of us actually saw them arrive at the entrance. What caught communal attention was the thundering synchronized rumble that emanated from those awesome machines. That musically glorious and beautifully hypnotic sound.