-- It's a rare opportunity to drive a piece of history.

But sure enough, sitting in a parking lot full of 2010 Chevy Corvette Grand Sport models was a white Corvette with 1,500,000 written across the top of its windshield.

The once-in-a-lifetime machine will spend its days at the National Corvette Museum in Bowling Green, Ky., not far from the assembly plant that puts it together.

But on Wednesday, this beautiful ride was parked in Milford and Chevrolet officials said I could take this convertible for a ride.

No one hopped in with me and no one lectured me about the speed limits along meandering Kensington Road, which borders General Motors Co.'s proving grounds. It was just me and a 2009 Chevrolet Corvette.

As the car's V-8 grumbled to life, I looked down at the odometer and smiled at the blue readout: 96 miles.

This particular car was born on May 28, and since then has been pampered and polished. It will never need to worry about salty roads or rainy days. It will have a good life.

It is part of history. The first Corvette was born on June 30, 1953, and it took 39 years before the 1 millionth arrived. Seventeen years later, this one rolled off the assembly line.

I pulled out and floored the automatic. It purred at first but then roared in a deep sobering tone. The engine's echo bounced off the trees as I gunned it again. Every time you hit the throttle, the Corvette rewards you.

We headed north as I watched the odometer hit 98, and I knew I would be the person to turn it to 100. It's only a number, but something felt special about the pending moment.

All of the traffic disappeared and the sun shined. It was a perfect Michigan summer day for driving a convertible, and the Corvette feels like such a good car when you're behind the wheel.

As we passed mile 99, I turned around and headed back to the parking lot. I wanted the Corvette to pass through this milestone in a hard turn or at least breaking the speed limit. It may get a luxurious life at a museum, but it also will spend its days away from the elements and open road.

So we tore down Kensington, but this time with a little fury. The wheels squealed just a little, and the V-8 howled.

By the time we made it back to the entrance of the Milford facility, I finally looked down at the odometer and saw 103. We had passed through 100 and I didn't get to revel in the moment.

But that's the beauty of a convertible Corvette speeding along an empty twisty road on a perfect summer day. It stretches the moment and compacts the miles, making them vanish away. It's kind of sad this car won't ever see 100,000 miles. It's like keeping a thoroughbred in the barn. Sometimes it just needs to run.

Fifty years from now, when I make my way to the Corvette Museum and look at the 2 millionth and 3 millionth Corvettes, I can point to the white one with 1,500,000 across its windshield.

"I drove that one," I can say (and no doubt the red leather interior will look just as rich as it did on Wednesday).

"Of course, you did mister," some patronizing young person will say as he escorts me out the building. "Of course, you did."