All posts in “First Drives”

Pininfarina Battista First Drive: Meet the 1,900-hp electric hypercar

MALIBU, Calif. — The all-electric Pininfarina Battista throws around some impressive numbers. Power output in the 1,900-horsepower neighborhood. A 0-to-60 time of less than 2 seconds. A range estimated to be 300 miles. A starting price of $2.2 million. All of that might invite the names hypercar or supercar, but that would imply it’s harsh and unforgiving. Instead, Pininfarina defines the Battista as a hyper GT, giving it the otherworldly power and performance of a hypercar while remaining comfortable enough to take on a road trip.

That’s a tall order for any vehicle, let alone the first car produced by a new manufacturer. After spending an afternoon with the Battista on some of our favorite roads above Malibu, we can definitively say that their boldness has paid off.

Automobili Pininfarina is the new manufacturing offshoot of the Carrozzeria Pininfarina design firm that has penned some of the most iconic cars in history. These include the 1947 Cisitalia 202, which is regarded as the first car that integrated fenders into the rest of the bodywork. Then there are icons such as the Fiat and Alfa Romeo Spiders (above right) along with the nouveau-classic Cadillac Allante. But it’s Pininfarina’s association with Ferrari that is most notable, including most of the 250 GT line (above left), Daytona, 512 BB, and wild 1980s Testarossa.

The Battista is named for Battista “Pinin” Farina, who founded Carrozzeria Pininfarina in 1930. A lot of its battery, chassis and motor componentry comes from Rimac, the nascent Croatian electric supercar maker that recently paired with Porsche to take over Bugatti.

The Battista’s exterior styling certainly has echoes of Ferrari, and really, can you think of a better compliment? As an all-electric vehicle, it doesn’t have the same kind of cooling and air intake needs as the gasoline-powered Ferraris and results in a cleaner and more elemental shape. The design is still aggressive as hell, but less shouty, and that plays well with the hyper GT positioning.

Once you pop the dihedral driver’s door, you’re greeted by a rather narrow passage between the dash and seat. Getting in takes a bit more stooping and maneuvering compared to conventional sports cars, but there are certainly exotics that are more difficult to access. Pulling the door down doesn’t take much effort, but you have to give it a strong slam to get it to fully shut, making it a strong candidate for soft-close doors.

The seats are firm and have excellent side bolstering to keep you in place when cornering. There are also more aggressive racing shell-type seats available, but in our estimation, unnecessary. Your feet can extend mostly straight ahead since front wheelwell intrusion is minimized. We haven’t even moved yet and the Battista is already fulfilling part of its hyper GT promise.

The cockpit is modern and minimal, with two horizontal touchscreens flanking the steering wheel and a phone-like display in the middle that displays speed and other primary information. Off to the sides, at the 5- and 7-o’clock positions, are two dials. The left selects drive modes and the right is the start button and gear selector. The cabin is cozy but not confining, and has a good amount of lateral space.

The Battista is already activated as we get in, a fact indicated by the subtle high-pitched whine and fan noises, much like a jetliner running on its auxiliary power unit as you find your seat. Foot on the brake and a quick spin of the right dial puts it in drive. A little pressure on the throttle and the Battista starts to roll forward on the gravel valet circle. Once on the broad, sweeping roads in the Santa Monica Mountains, it’s striking how well-mannered a 1,900-hp car can be.

We’re in the Pura (Pure) drive mode, which seems equivalent to a default comfort mode. It’s easy to drive, with no fear that you’ll accidentally overdo it and spin into a ditch. At the same time, it’s way more potent than most drivers will ever need. In this way, it’s as approachable as a 911 Carrrera 4S and we fantasize about an alternate reality where this is our daily driver.

The ride is stiff, but not punishing. There’s a lot of jostling over the pavement’s undulations, but the smart suspension keeps potholes from sending sharp jolts into your backside. You also hear every tire impact and slap over seams, along with the frequent ricochets of pebbles and debris off the undertray. There’s just enough harshness to remind you of its sporting potential and just enough compliance to consider driving it six hours somewhere.

Now that we’re acclimated, it’s time to turn up the performance. We skip the Calma (Calm) and Carattere (Character) drive modes, which equate to eco and individual modes, respectively. The Energica (Energetic) mode is what can be considered the sport mode. The ride gets firmer, the throttle response more immediate and the steering seems livelier. The synthetic driveline noises also get louder as you muster enough courage to give that pedal a proper stomp.

The Battista instantaneously obeys, launching forward with unstoppable determination. In a time when sub 3-second acceleration to 60 mph is considered increasingly normal, the all-wheel-drive Pininfarina still manages to impress as it’s estimated to hit 60 a whole second earlier. On the rougher sections of winding pavement, the suspension is just a bit too stiff. Mid-corner bumps will keep you alert and the larger whoops will have you thanking your racing school coaches.

Selecting Furiosa activates an equivalent race or track mode, unleashing the full power output and relaxing the driver assists. It’s every driving trope wrapped up in one. It goes to 11; face-warping acceleration; you’ll see the grim reaper and he’ll give you a thumbs up; pick your favorite exaggeration and it applies here. Off the line, the Battista launches hard enough that your vision gets blurry. There’s a slight side-to-side squirm that also indicates you have indeed found a limit and you should proceed at your own peril. It’s unyielding and unforgiving when provoked, and that’s precisely what we wanted on the high end.

The range of comfort and performance afforded by these drive modes is vast. The Battista does indeed warrant the new hyper GT classification. But it’s also so much more. The details could keep us yammering on for days, but we’ll try to pare it down to a few paragraphs.

The interior features an abundance of impeccable leather surfaces, and those hides are sourced close to the Cambiano, Italy, factory. They’re tanned using more environmentally friendly methods that somehow involve local olive leaves. There aren’t any vegan alternatives as Pininfarina says production of those materials have their own chemical drawbacks. The aluminum trim elements aren’t cast, they’re machined from solid billets. They’re attractive while not going as over-the-top as in a Pagani.

On the outside, the charge port is at the center of the tail, a move that Chief Design Officer Dave Amantea lobbied for and won. It keeps charging cables from being draped over the carbon fiber bodywork and is easily accessible. A Pf logo between that port and the trunk (yes, there’s a trunk) illuminates when charging and the outer frame of the badge shows the charge state so you can know with a quick glance how much juice is left.

The glass trunk lid is power deployed and closed. Its stepped floor makes it difficult to load even a paper bag full of groceries, but Pinifarina offers a custom set of luggage that fits perfectly and can be upholstered to match the rest of the cabin. The price? Try $20,000, or the equivalent of a new Nissan Sentra.

There’s even a pragmatic side to the Battista, as you can add a five- or 10-year maintenance program and extend the warranty coverage for the massive 120-kilowatt-hour battery pack to 10 years. Then there’s the Eterna program that offers a replacement body parts kit that is painted at the same time as your Battista. Take a moment to let that soak in because we’re already imagining the most amazing garage wall art.

As Paolo Dellachà, Pininfarina’s Chief Product and Engineering Officer was eager to point out, these programs enhance the ownership experience and also increase the value of the Battista. Considering production is capped at 150 examples and no two will be allowed to be identical (unless, we suppose, you buy two!), there’s no doubt it’s an instant collectible that should only increase in price. As a fully electric hyper GT, may also be more future proof than the current raft of internal-combustion supercars.

Trying to remain impartial and objective during this review is a challenge, but with a sub-orbital price of $2.2 million, most normal sensibilities are obliterated. This is one of those cars that have you questioning past life choices or pondering how much you could sell a kidney for (you can’t, it turns out). The few nitpicks are limited to the hard-to-shut doors, a distracting reflection from the dash top in the windshield, and the tedious infotainment screens that you have to use to even adjust the seats. These drawbacks are as easily dispatched as any vehicle trying to keep up with the Battista.

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McLaren Artura First Drive Review: Twinsies with Ferrari

MALAGA, Spain — Back in the early 2000s, when my mother was still rapidly spending down the proceeds of a profitable divorce from her second husband, she would occasionally send gifts to me and my boyfriend. One Hanukkah, she mailed us a pair of matching flannel robes from L.L. Bean. At least three other male couples we knew received this gift from a mother that holiday season, so perhaps there was some osmotic zeitgeist wafting in the ether, but this did not make it any more appropriate. Not only do I feel about robes the same way I feel about sweatpants — that they epitomize the most tragic abdication of human effort — but, following a one-time visit to Saugatuck, Michigan, a haven for Midwestern queers in matchy-matchy polos and Bermuda shorts, my partner and I had developed a strict policy: No Gay Twinning.

Decades later, Ferrari and McLaren have both released six-figure, mid-engined, entry-level, 180-inch, rear-wheel-drive sports coupes featuring twin-turbocharged 120-degree V6 engines combined with an electric motor and an integrated battery pack that can be plugged in. I just completed a road drive and track time with the McLaren Artura, and it raises the question: Is this some more of that osmotic zeitgeist, or are the companies twinning each other?

I haven’t yet driven the Ferrari 296 GTB, but I can speak to the ways these cars don’t precisely match. Unlike the Ferrari, which is among the Italian brand’s most potent regular production road cars, with a combined ICE/EV output of 818 horsepower and 546 pound-feet of torque, the McLaren Artura makes do with a paltry 671 hp and 531 lb-ft of twist, placing it downrank in the brand’s lineup. But whereas the Ferrari has 3,700 pounds to motivate, the McLaren has just 3,300. This means that their 0-60 times are evenly matched, at around the 3 second mark, and their top speeds are identical at 205 mph.

McLaren achieves this parity the same way it usually does, via a monomaniacal focus on weight saving. This includes such lunatic wizardry as utilizing an all-new carbon fiber and aluminum sub-structure, thinner front windshield glass, an electric motor light enough to wear as a bracelet, and the aforementioned compact V6. It also implements an ethernet-based electrical system to reduce the weight of all the wiring contemporary vehicles require for their innumerable infotainment features.

With its short wheelbase, overall compactness and all that power, the Artura actually feels lithe on its tires — which, by the way, feature Pirelli’s first production iteration of its sensor and Bluetooth-based Smart Tire, allowing the car to instantly know exactly which type of 235/35/ZR19 (front) and 295/35/ZR20 (rear) tires are on the car — street, track or snow — how warm the rubber is inside the sidewall as opposed to at the rim, and precisely how much air is contained within. George Orwell said ignorance was strength, so I’m not certain why we’d want to know all of this, and the one time I actually got to use the feature on the track, the McLaren tech who was present overruled the red warning light and deflated the rubber to a pressure he deemed more appropriate. Progress!

Because of, or despite, all this engineering effort, the Artura accelerates with commanding alacrity, and very little drama, particularly in manual (paddle-shifted) mode. And its combination of a very stiff carbon fiber structure and softer suspension settings, common to the brand’s grand touring-focused vehicles, gives it a compliance that is missing from other more hardcore supercars. Though it lacks the trick hydraulic body control system featured on other McLarens, its hydraulic steering, something of a rarity in modern cars, provides excellent feedback. Or maybe it was the smart tires communicating with the smart steering wheel, which now moves, along with the instrument binnacle, as the one on my 1977 Porsche 928. Progress, again!

In addition, big carbon ceramic discs provide excellent braking, handy when chunks of the local geology appear suddenly in a blind corner on a spaghetti-twisted mountain roadway. However, achieving bite, like getting into the forbidden fruit of a candy apple, requires some initial firmness, followed, oft-unpredictably, by a crunch or a squish.

The Artura’s ability to motivate itself, if only for 11 miles, solely on electric power, provides a kind of “oh, neat” factor, useful for gotcha sneak-ups on pedestrians or silent escapes to or from extramarital trysts after sneaking down the drainpipe. But I couldn’t detect as much of the “infill torque” that the tiny electric motor is meant to provide at very low rpm, particularly, as referenced above, when the transmission was in automatic mode. The Artura, like some other six-figure hybrids, has so much technology baked in that it has a tendency to hunt, meanderingly, for its algorithmically-derived ideal of potency and efficiency, especially in city driving or during aborted highway passing maneuvers — Second gear! Sixth gear! No gear at all! This results in a hiccup here and there, as frustrating as when your phone refuses to take a command, but perhaps a bit more dangerous. (Also, your phone doesn’t cost $233,000.) Shifting the new eight-speed transmission manually, or driving flat-out on the track, cures the car of this issue. So, just do that, whenever possible.

Fortunately, you kind of can with the Artura, because for an exotic supercar, in this age of outrageous power and performance, the whole package felt rather livable, every day. This is a brand attribute for McLaren, and reminded me of the company’s first production road car in its modern iteration, the MP4-12C (from the era when McLaren named cars after their own license plate numbers). It even looks kind of mild for a supercar, walking (or running) the line between anodyne and AI generated. It’s a supercar for those who don’t want to stand out. Is that a market segment?

I’m not going to attempt to answer this question. It’s rhetorical device, like the aforementioned red herring of comparing the McLaren to a car I haven’t driven. I ask that you indulge me, however, even if this piece may resemble the Zen-like sound of one robe flapping.

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2023 Aston Martin DBX 707 First Drive Review | Supercar SUV

OLBIA, Sardinia – What is the definition of a supercar? It varies from generation to generation, from country to country, and from brand to brand. It’s the type of complex question that could fuel pub talk until the taps run dry. Aston Martin’s supercars have historically been the low-slung two-door kind, but the British firm submitted a different answer by releasing the 2023 Aston Martin DBX 707. It’s an SUV that serves supercar-like power, supercar-like acceleration, and a supercar-like price. Does it deserve a spot in this elite group in spite of its family-friendly proportions? I traveled to the Italian Mediterranean island of Sardinia to find out.

On paper, the 707 is a DBX with a more powerful engine – that’s one way to sum it up but it’s cruelly unfair. Dig deeper and you’ll discover hundreds of changes made to differentiate the two models, both in terms of design and in terms of driving dynamics. The grille is 27% bigger (it’s not just BMW riding this train), the side skirts have been redesigned, there’s a carbon fiber spoiler attached to the top part of the hatch, and the rear bumper is now vented. One of the most striking design cues is the rear diffuser: loosely inspired by the unit fitted to the Valkyrie, it sticks out far beyond the bumper and looks ready to pick a fight with every curb that comes its way. Aston Martin told me you can still fit the 707 with a hitch, so that’s a relief. Wait: tow? With this? Certainly! Bolt that hitch on it and you can pull approximately 6,000 pounds.

While some of these tweaks are purely aesthetic, others allowed Aston Martin to hone the DBX’s aerodynamic profile. Adding splitters to the front bumper stabilizes airflow, for example, and Sam Holgate, Aston Martin’s chief designer for mid-engined models and SUVs, pointed out that the 707 has about 5% less lift than the regular DBX.

“Mainly, that came out from the front of the car by venting air out of the arches, but then we got it back with the rear spoiler, so this car is completely lift-neutral front to rear, regardless of whether you’re traveling at high or low speeds,” he told me.

In a way, the 707 is a laboratory that incorporates some of the feedback that Aston Martin has received about the DBX since production started in 2020. Buyers wanted soft-close doors; it’s got them. And, there is one improvement that Aston Martin’s engineering team is particularly proud of. “We redesigned the cupholders to take a bigger variety of cups,” said Andrew Tokley, Aston Martin’s senior manager of vehicle engineering. Customer feedback, much of it from American buyers directly shaped the new cupholders (no mention of American car reviewers). Scoff if you must, but they were surprisingly useless before.

As in the regular DBX, all of the materials that the passengers see and touch are top-notch, which you’d rightfully expect in a vehicle that goes deep into $200,000 territory. Aston Martin really sweated the details: every stitch is correctly aligned and every switch feels solid. Its heritage is rooted in luxury, after all.

The only disappointment inside – and it’s not an insignificant one – is the infotainment system. Yep, I heard you: “no one buys an Aston Martin to get a fancy touchscreen!” Fair enough, but technology has, for better or worse, become one of the yardsticks used to measure luxury cars and the DBX falls short here. It’s fitted with what’s essentially an older Mercedes-Benz infotainment system, meaning one controlled by a touchpad and a dial rather than a touchscreen. It’s bulky and unintuitive; the DBX deserves better, especially since there are some cool features and menus stuffed into the software.

Power comes from a twin-turbocharged, 4.0-liter V8. It’s the familiar eight-cylinder that Aston Martin borrowed from Mercedes-AMG to drop into several of its models, including the regular DBX, but here it’s tuned to develop 697 horsepower at 6,000 rpm (or 707 pferdestärke – hence the name) and 663 pound-feet of torque at 4,500 rpm. Enthusiasts familiar with AMG’s V8 cookbook will recognize that no in-house recipe yields these numbers, and that’s because this is a British recipe, not a German one.

“The Mercedes-Benz technology transfer agreement is very important for us, and this is one of the outcomes. We were able to make several refinements to the engine. The agreement also gives us the leverage to be much quicker to the market,” said Aston Martin boss Tobias Moers. Importantly, and this is not a coincidence, his last job was running the very company that designed the engine: AMG. His gravitational pull was strong enough to bring a few key people with him to England, including Ralph Illenberger. He’s now Aston Martin’s head of powertrain having previously been AMG’s head of engine development.

Tokley explained that some of the changes made in-house include fitting turbochargers equipped with ball bearings instead of journal bearings. Software and calibration tweaks entered the equation as well.

From the crankshaft, the V8’s cavalry reaches the four wheels via a nine-speed automatic transmission linked to beefy shift paddles, an active transfer case, an upsized carbon fiber driveshaft (which doesn’t have a center bearing in order to save weight), and an electronic limited-slip rear differential with a final drive ratio that’s 7% shorter than the standard DBX’s. Hitting 60 mph from a stop consequently takes 3.1 seconds, a number that becomes even more impressive when you take into account the 4,940-pound mass that the engine needs to lug around. The nine-speed automatic keeps up with the pace by delivering quick, crisp shifts, either on its own or manually. The shift paddles are even larger than those in the regular DBX, and are made of carbon fiber rather than metal. 

Aston Martin lets you choose how loudly the DBX 707 comes to life. For the standard exhaust note, simply push the “engine start/stop” button located on the dashboard, between the buttons used to put the transmission in gear. To turn it up, which I highly recommend, keep the left shift paddle pulled as you push the ignition button. The difference in decibels is perceptible, both inside and out. The V8’s song is worth turning down the audio system for, and Aston Martin spent a great deal of time fine-tuning it. Moers, a man whose love of great-sounding engines is well documented, personally weighed in on it.

Unless you’re a current Aston Martin owner, the brand’s long-standing automatic shifter location takes a little bit of time to get used to; your hand instinctively reaches for the center console. But, once you’re off, you’re off. The DBX’s acceleration is nearly instantaneous, which is surprising because the engine’s full horsepower and torque outputs aren’t available until 6,000 and 4,500 rpm, respectively. There is so much of both under your right foot that the engine curve matters far less than it does in a car with, say, 150 horsepower. At full throttle, the DBX delivers the type of gut-twisting acceleration associated with a supercar. Try launch control once, and I’ll bet the cost of my test car’s optional 23-inch wheels (that’s $5,100, by the way) that you’ll immediately stop to do it again.

The chassis improvements came to life on twisty Sardinian roads. This is not a light car, and it never feels like one, but dialing in a 52% front and 48% rear weight distribution ensures it’s not as front-heavy as you’d expect. It’s reasonably well balanced, especially considering the segment that it competes in. The air suspension and 48-volt anti-roll control keep body motions in check, and the massive tires unlock a reassuring (and almost supernatural!) level of grip. Bend after bend, the DBX 707 delights with precise, well-weighted steering … until I come out of a sharp right-hander, foot half-buried in the throttle, and realize I’m barreling towards a group of goats chilling in the middle of the road. That’s where the standard carbon ceramic braking system comes in. Rest assured: the DBX passed the goat avoidance test with flying colors.

On straighter, faster roads where the odds of encountering cheese-producing livestock are lower, the DBX 707 is a pleasant and comfortable car to cruise in. Like the regular DBX, actually, the 707’s wild side is entertaining, but it knows how to be calm when the occasion calls for it. It’s also quiet thanks in part to remarkably thick windows. Only the V8’s song permeates the cabin. Some of it comes from the speakers, though Tokley stresses that the actual exhaust note is being piped through rather than a fake sound emitted by a synthesizer. For the braver souls among us, there’s an off-road mode that increases the ground clearance.

Due out in the second quarter of 2022, the 2023 Aston Martin DBX 707 starts at $239,086 including a massive $3,086 destination charge, and the $300,000 threshold is effortlessly reached when you begin ticking option boxes – my tester cost $291,586. At this stage, what are you really cross-shopping the DBX 707 with? Any of the other family haulers that cost nearly a quarter of a million dollars, sure, but you could also get a used Cessna or buy a cabin in a picturesque part of the Alps and a four-wheel-drive Dacia Duster to get there. That’s the point: the heart crushes the brain in this equation. No one needs a 697-horsepower SUV, but the acceleration, the sound, the design, and the luxury make you want one. Cast in this light, ground clearance and seat count be damned: the DBX 707 is a modern supercar.

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Ferrari 296 GTB First Drive Review | Design and technical showpiece

Seville, Spain – Even when its founder Enzo was a pup, Ferrari was famously wringing maximum performance from miniscule engines. Today, that spirit lives on in the Ferrari 296 GTB plug-in hybrid – the first real V6 road car in Ferrari history – and a blistering track romp and road trip through Andalusia, Spain, proves again that automotive brilliance often comes in bite-sized packages. That talent, now combined with the modern shove and zero tailpipe emissions of electricity (in short distances) is coming in handy as regulators demand gasoline engines be downsized or eliminated entirely. When downtown Rome finally says basta to internal-combustion cars, the 296 GTB will get a free pass and a proud salute from locals.

This Ferrari will draw its share of wolf whistles as well. New tech aside, the 296 GTB is more old-school Ferrari in styling; a swoopy object of lust from its flying buttresses to a carved-out Kamm tail.

Press the haptic e Drive switch on the 296’s exotic steering wheel and it can cover 15.5 miles on pure electricity at up to 84 mph. Its twin-turbo 3.0-liter V6 is sidelined via an electric clutch, and a ghostly hum emanates from within. No, that’s not the sound of Enzo turning in his grave. Just the opposite, I’d say. That dude loved to win, even (or especially) when people called him crazy, and said his tiny 12-cylinder jewels (Phrasing? -BH) would never work (Oh, it got worse -BH).

So if you assume the 296 GTB is the Ferrari customers must “settle for,” think again. This short-wheelbase, mid-engine Ferrari is gorgeously evocative of classic models like the 250 LM, including roller-coaster haunches that seem extruded from a fast-flowing body. With a ridiculous 819 rear-driven horsepower, the 296 GTB is also faster and more reactive than every larger V8 car in Ferrari’s lineup, including the 488 Tributo and wicked 488 Pista. How fast? Well, this six-cylinder warrior circles the Fiorano factory track in less time than LaFerrari — the seven-figure hybrid wonder of just a few years ago. “But it doesn’t have a V8,” your say? Well, fine: The 488s, Roma coupe and Portofino convertible remain eminently defensible choices. Just get used to the 296 GTB wagging its saucy tail in your face at track days (with its signature, high-mounted single exhaust outlet), while you mumble something about the “Good Old Days.”

I’m mumbling something else after storming through Andalusia on HU 4103, a two-lane, EU-funded fantasy road that resembles a private/public racetrack in the countryside: All mirror-smooth pavement, double-stacked guardrails, helpful bright-blue turn arrows and a dearth of other drivers. The 296 GTB bullets from corner to corner, as fast in full Automatic mode as when using the rabbit-eared, carbon-fiber paddle shifters. Braked with my left foot for balanced pendulum swings against the throttle, the Ferrari’s eight-speed dual-clutch gearbox self-downshifts as low as second gear at roughly 6,000 rpm.

Incredible by-wire brakes create a fierce double-whammy of engine braking and electric regen, and then the Ferrari is off again. On a long ascent and descent, the regen brakes slurp so much energy that the battery remains fully stuffed, even at maximum attack. This is a hybrid that basically never runs out of electric breath, a kind of junior F1 car for the street.

A “Qualifying” mode summons maximum performance for shorter bursts, but also fully recharges the 7.5-kilowatt-hour battery (with 80 lithium-ion cells) in less than 15 minutes in my hands. The 296 is also super-satisfying in Hybrid mode, cruising gasoline-free at a brisk clip, but ready to fire up the engine and lunge ahead with a firmer press of the throttle. After a perspiring 115-mile drive, the all-digital instrument panel, descended from the SF90 hypercar, informs me that I’ve used gasoline for 80% of the trip, electricity for the rest – and saved 1 liter of fuel in the process. Every little bit, si?

Seemingly limitless front-end grip is amplified with joyful, high-pitched 8,500-rpm shrieks from an engine that Ferrari engineers call the “piccolo V12” — “little V12.” That’s not all Italian hyperbole, as I’ll explain later. As for the “first Ferrari V6” claim, recall that the six-cylinder, mid-engine Dinos – sold from 1967 to 1974, named after Enzo’s tragically fated son – were intended as a “son-of” sub-brand, and never wore a Ferrari badge. Ferrari, of course, has enjoyed racing success with V6s in multiple eras, from Mike Hawthorn’s 1958 F1 championship to the 1982 campaign that saw the 126 C2 become F1’s first turbocharged title winner.

These Spanish roads wind through the Rio Tinto (“Red River”) whose mineral-infused waters flash a striking crimson, though our convoy of Ferraris may have created some spillover effect. Regarding red Ferraris, I’ve never been a fan of that too-obvious choice, but the 296 GTB’s Rosso Imola definitely works, a smoldering lipstick shade for this Italian supermodel. And while I do love me some 488 Pista, our long road-and-track day convinces me the 296 GTB is the smarter, better all-around sports car. The 296 – the name combining the 2,992-cc engine, and “6” cylinders – feels even more responsive, less high-strung and demanding, thereby more appealing as a daily driver. And that’s without getting into the electric advantages; including a redesigned electric motor, sandwiched between the engine and gearbox, that supplies 122 kilowatts (165 horsepower) and 232 pound-feet of torque, filling in all the low-rev and shifting gaps until there’s no chink in the armor.

Quicksilver handling recalls a Lotus by way of Maranello, but with double or triple the power. Its electric steering is immediacy personified, with a lightness that underlines the wrongheadedness of sports cars and sedans that confuse burly effort with actual road feel. A highway blast on the Autovia lets the 296 GTB demonstrate its searing pace and stability, surging to 150 mph and more as boggled drivers pull to the right to watch the Ferrari soar past. 

The craziest part is how a sports car can send 819 horsepower to the ground through rear wheels, effortlessly, without ever feeling like a handful of dynamite. Credit in part the specially developed, 20-inch Michelin Pilot Sport 4S tires, or the available Pilot Sport Cup 2s that nearly match the dry grip of racing slicks but remain DOT-legal.

Actually, this may be the craziest part: Company executives and engineers define the 296 GTB as the most “fun-to-drive” Ferrari, by intent and design. That may come as a shock to people who plunk down at least $523,000 – $200,000 beyond the GTB’s $323,000 base price – for its philosophical parent, the SF90 AWD plug-in. But Ferrari executives are nothing if not confident, saying there’s a Ferrari for every type of buyer, and obviously big enough garages that some can avoid making a choice altogether. While “fun to drive” has a subjective element, engineers insist there are objective parameters, including lateral/longitudinal response to throttle and steering inputs; shift times and sensations; brake pedal feel and response; and sound level and quality in the cabin. Designers and engineers parsed, mapped and quantified everything that makes a Ferrari “fun” – price tag didn’t make the list – and sought to elevate the 296 GTB to new highs, for owners who prize pure sensation and immediacy.

Sensations begin with a 2.0-inch shorter wheelbase and lower center-of-gravity versus any V8 Ferrari, which helps this sports car shrink around its pilot. The engine trims 66 pounds versus the V8. Dry weight is a commendable 3,234 pounds — 70 more than an F8 Tributo, thanks to the hybrid hardware and battery — but with 108 faster-acting horsepower on tap. That gives the 296 a better weight-to-power ratio than any rival. Meanwhile, the feelsome by-wire braking system, the company insists, lets the 296 GTB brake later and deeper into corners than any other Ferrari, allowing owners to attack apexes and just crush the pedal with no fear of upsetting the car.

Extensive aero work includes a “tea tray” doohickey up front to direct air along the underbody. Hidden headlamp ducts cool brakes, themselves fitted with ventilating “aero” calipers. Underbody height is as low as roadgoing rules allow, allowing reworked vortex generators to boost ground-effect suction and front downforce. Greedy cavities in those blush-worthy rear fenders feed turbo intercoolers. An active aero panel, hidden between taillamps, rises in an instant to generate up to 100 pounds of extra downforce, including under braking. I wasn’t arguing after my track drive at the Monteblanco circuit, where a roughly 165-mph straightaway abruptly ends at a near-hairpin corner. An optional Assetto Fiorano package forms that panel from carbon fiber, with stiffer Multimatic shock absorbers and other bits to further boost downforce and trim 26 pounds.

I’ve barely discussed that masterwork engine, discreetly hidden below dark-tinted, three-dimensional glass. Twin exhaust banks provocatively come together in a long, single central exhaust formed from thin-walled Inconel alloy. “Aluchrome” is used for the cavernous, high-mounted rear outlet, an alloy that maintains shine under extremely high temperatures.

Consider Enzo Ferrari’s first solo effort, the 125S racer of 1947, which made 118 horsepower from 12 dainty cylinders that displaced just 1.5 liters. This V6 alone generates 654 horsepower from just twice the displacement. Its 218 horsepower-per-liter becomes a historic high in specific output for any production automobile. The engine cradles a pair of turbochargers in the “hot-V” cleavage of 120-degree cylinder banks. Those turbos spin up to 180,000 rpm, with a huge 24% jump in performance and boost efficiency versus the V8 turbos. This engine is also a testament to high compression (including 350-bar fuel injection) and low inertia. The whistling turbos and a forged, nitrided crankshaft help reduce rotating masses by 11% versus the 3.9-liter V8.

This first in a new F163 engine family also combines two elements that can seem diametrically opposed: The force of turbocharging with the euphonious revving and trebly wail of a naturally aspirated V-2: Hence, “the piccolo V12.” The crankshaft’s 120-degree geometry, symmetrical cylinder firing order and tuned, equal-length exhaust runners deliver both the pressure pulses and harmonic sound orders of a V12. Those natural, odd-numbered harmonic orders are further amplified via a “hot tube” prior to exhaust treatment that push those sweet frequencies into the cabin, even at low revs. If a Mercedes-AMG V8 is basso profundo, this V6 is a La Scala tenor, sailing to 8,500-rpm peaks with enough force and emotional drama to bring tears to one’s eyes. Nobody, and I mean nobody, would guess there are only six cylinders churning below decks.

To all that, add 165 horses of inverted AC juice from the axial, dual-rotor motor. All told, this V6 Ferrari can shriek to 60 mph in 2.8 seconds, and to 200 kph (124 mph) in 7.3 seconds. Terminal velocity is 206 mph. That 0-200 kph figure is especially telling. It’s about 0.5 seconds quicker than a V8 McLaren 720S, and 0.9 seconds quicker than a Lamborghini Huracan Evo with a naturally aspirated V10. 

When I first clapped eyes on the 296 GTB and its stand-displayed V6 in early 2021 during an SF90 drive at Fiorano, I assumed it was some kind of “starter model.” That was before I realized what this crew was up to, and definitely before I experienced the car. The 296 GTB is a design and technical showpiece, like an SF90 Jr., but with the advantage of being smaller, lighter and rear-wheel-drive. As ever, there’s no free lunch in Maranello, even at the newly restored Cavallino restaurant where Enzo dined and did business almost daily. So a plug-in, small-engined showboat that’s faster than a V8 Ferrari must also cost more than a V8 Ferrari.

Thus, the 296 GTB starts from $323,000, a solid $42,000 hike over the 488 Tributo at $281,000; but a skosh less than a 488 Pista at $331,000. Some Tifosi will find that difficult choice keeping them up at night, perhaps counting cylinders. Some will rest easy, and buy one of each. 

2022 Acura NSX Type S Track Drive | One lap of Daytona

DAYTONA BEACH, Fla. — Stadium lights shine their bright white glow on the tarmac as I power out of the infield and up to the banking of NASCAR 1 at Daytona International Speedway in the 2022 Acura NSX Type S. The force of gravity quickly changes from normal to feeling like I’m being shoved down by a compactor. I gingerly arc down from the top of Daytona’s steep 31-degree incline and settle into the middle, right pedal down and holding the wheel steady. That last part, I quickly learn, is unnecessary, as the banking holds the car in place without needing to exert much steering force.

An immersive and sonorous note trumpets through the cabin as I stay in the throttle out of NASCAR 2. The Bus Stop Chicane (just renamed the Le Mans Chicane for this year’s Rolex 24) arrives quickly and with little warning when you have 600 horsepower hustling you there, and it’s perhaps the worst-lit corner on the track — ironic, considering you’re going as fast as anywhere at Daytona before having to apply the brakes. A loud, brap, brap, brap accompanies the slowdown. I smash over the rumble strips while exiting the chicane, and head back onto the oval for another go in the compactor for NASCAR 3 and 4.

And then that’s it, my one flying lap in the one-year-only NSX Type S is over. Rolling back into pit lane, I’m attempting to process what just happened, but am reduced to one-word exclamations from the adrenaline rush. Piloting anything on-track at the Daytona road course at night is a bucket list, dream-come-true moment for a racing enthusiast, and I had just done it in Acura’s mid-engine supercar. Turns out, those hundreds of hours playing Gran Turismo and dreaming finally came in handy.

This brief and high-speed track drive is our first go at the new-for-2022 NSX Type S. Acura says that more seat time is coming in the future, but we’re to make do with this quick taste for the time being. That said, even if you wanted to at this point, the chances of buying a new NSX Type S are next to zero. The NSX swan song — yes, this is the NSX’s last model year — sold out in mere minutes, and all that’s left is a waiting list. Acura is building 350 total, and 300 are allocated for the United States. There will be no “standard” NSXs for 2022 either, so it’s either the $171,495 Type S or nothing.

Despite the rarity and short life, it’s surprising how much effort Acura put into enhancing the NSX’s complex engine and three-motor hybrid system. The standard car’s 3.5-liter twin-turbocharged V6 is upgraded with turbochargers yanked directly from the GT3 Evo racecar. To supplement that, it also gets new fuel injectors with a 25% higher flow rate and new intercoolers with 15% more heat dissipation capability. The engine is now contributing 520 horsepower and 443 pound-feet of torque to forward motion, increases of 20 and 37, respectively.

Acura then upgraded the NSX “Twin Motor Unit” that powers the front wheels by lowering the gear ratio from 10.38:1 to 8.05:1. This effectively gives the car more torque directly off the line, which means even harder launches than before. Those electric motors yank the car through and out of Daytona’s Horseshoe with the secure and reassuring show of visceral force we’re used to from the NSX. The battery powering these motors is also upgraded with a 10% greater output and 20% higher usable capacity. Due to this drive’s nature, I didn’t get a chance to test out the Type S’ improved battery-only hybrid operation, but the upgrades should lead to less engine use in the efficient “Quiet” mode.

Total system output is now rated at 600 horsepower and 492 pound-feet of torque, and even in just one lap, the difference in forward thrust is perceptible. I don’t expect a drastic change in acceleration times (Acura only specified “under 3.0 seconds” despite the standard NSX being estimated at 2.9 seconds), but putting your foot down leaves little doubt that the Type S charges harder from corner-to-corner than the regular NSX does.

Another key upgrade made for the Type S concerns the transmission. The nine-speed dual-clutch automatic is re-tuned, and it engages the clutch 50% faster upon paddle press. This means a more instantaneous response and snappier reflexes to your paddle prodding. In addition to quicker gear changes, the Type S gains a new “Rapid Downshift” mode that automatically drops you into the lowest-possible gear when you hold the downshift paddle down. New programming also quickens downshifts in automatic mode when you apply brake pressure — say, when you’re coming in hot on the curved entry to turn 1 — and the rev threshold for pulling manual downshifts is increased by 1,500 rpm, letting you pull quicker downshifts that zing the needle higher up the tachometer.

Most noticeable out on track is how smart the transmission sets itself up for every situation in automatic mode. It bangs off shifts with what sounds like an extra bit of violence in the form of staccato pops. This in-cabin volume increase is the most obvious new experience in the Type S from the get-go, too. A lack of emotion and drama from the V6 was one of the standard NSX’s most common complaints. It’s not mended with a new exhaust, but Acura says it’s re-done the car’s “Intake Sound Control” (basically funnels real noise into the cabin) and “Active Sound Control” (artificially creates and/or enhances noises inside the cabin). Anyone who’s driven a regular NSX will notice the more audible intake wailing and extra volume inside the cabin both on-throttle and with every shift.

Last up in the realm of upgrades for the NSX’s powertrain is a re-tuned SH-AWD system that takes advantage of the front motors’ and engine’s additional thrust and power. Of course, this all-wheel-drive system is so closely tied with the NSX’s handling capabilities that you can’t talk about one without the other. The Type S is truly a whole-car job, so of course Acura’s engineers went to work on the suspension, wheels/tires, drive mode tuning and more.

Unfortunately, the limited track time made it impossible to come to any grand conclusions about the improvements. That said, the breadth of the changes leads me to believe that we’re going to experience a noted difference in road behavior once we drive one outside the racetrack.

For the time being, know that the Type S gets recalibrated dampers with a greater range of stiffness depending on the mode. That means it’s still designed to be comfortable in the on-road modes, but is stiffer than before in Track Mode. New forged alloy wheels are set with more negative offset that in turn widens the front track by 0.4 inch and the rear track by 0.8 inch. The wheels are then wrapped in a Pirelli P-Zero summer performance tire made exclusively for the Type S that wasn’t previously available on the standard NSX. Acura claims the track increases and new tires allow for 6% more lateral grip. To quantify that and the extra power, Acura says the NSX Type S is 2 seconds quicker around the Suzuka Circuit in Japan.

There’s one main performance package available, the $13,000 Lightweight Package fitted to our track car that drops the curb weight by 57.8 pounds from an unannounced figure. The 2021 standard NSX tipped the scales at 3,878 pounds. Much of those savings (and the hefty price) comes from the carbon ceramic brakes, but the Lightweight Package also gives you a carbon fiber engine cover and carbon accents on the steering wheel and instrument cluster hood. All of the other carbon fiber optional extras on the regular NSX come standard on the Type S, most important of those being the carbon roof that reduces the center of gravity. The Type S-exclusive Gotham Gray Matte paint (pictured above) adds another $6,000.

The new Type S front end ensures that everybody knows this NSX is different from the rest, and its new design is functionally better than before. Acura says the more angular intakes, front spoiler and larger diffuser do a better job at minimizing lift and making the Type S more stable at high speed. Airflow to the intercoolers is also enhanced, ensuring proper cooling of the more powerful engine.

Of course, the one lap at Daytona does not even come close to testing the heat capacity of this car. It does, however, provide convincing evidence that this NSX Type S is truly the best performing NSX in every way while still remaining true to its purpose of being an everyday supercar. Navigating pit exit just inches from the Wall of Champions is an objectively stressful situation, but the NSX’s expansive forward visibility makes it easier. Daytona’s walls on the infield loom in the darkness at track-level, but the NSX makes driving a stupid-quick car at this big track remarkably easy with its essentially fool-proof all-wheel-drive system. It’s the most point-and-shoot supercar in the game, and it’s going to make 350 people grin from ear-to-ear once they get behind the wheel. 

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Lamborghini Huracan STO First Drive Review | No shortage of show

Malibu, Calif — There’s no shortage of show in LA. From studio moguls rolling in ultraluxe sedans to wannabe racers using freeways as their own personal circuits, the city of Angels explodes with vehicular energy— much of it, inauthentic.

And then there’s the 2022 Lamborghini Huracan STO.

Slathered in scoops, spoilers, and ducts, the Huracan STO looks like every go-fast visual cliché brought to life, a caricature of real deal racecars. This one is even finished in blue and orange, a sort of flamboyant take on Gulf livery. But the STO’s story is actually authentic.

The last Huracan variant approaching this level of hardcore was the Huracan Performante (2017-2019), which many (including this author) credited as the brand’s first credible track weapon. The subsequent Huracan EVO was launched at Bahrain’s F1 circuit and loaded with ambitious tech. However, its chassis setup, which combined four-wheel steering and a variable steering ratio, lacked the consistency and edge needed for serious track driving. 

This time around, the STO draws legitimate inspiration from Lambo’s Super Trofeo and GT3 race cars, which have helped the brand claim more than 100 GT3 wins and three outright Daytona 24 Hours victories in a row. Not a bad starting ground in a bid for relevancy. The STO’s intricate skin is 75% carbon fiber, helping shed some 95 pounds over the Performante. And while it claims 37% more aerodynamic efficiency over its predecessor, the STO’s massive, three-way adjustable rear wing manages a staggering 926 lbs of downforce at 174 mph, which is 53% more than the Performante. Aiding the effort are magnesium wheels and a 20% lighter windshield. Though Lamborghini only publishes dry weight figures (and the STO claims a mere 2,950 lbs without fluids), it’s fair to say that featherweighting has been aggressively pursued. The suspension is more aggressive due to stiffened bushings, revised stabilizer bars, and an updated magnetic adaptive damper setup. Oh, and the frunk? In yet another motorsports nod, it’s designed to accommodate a full-face helmet.

The STO’s 5.2-liter V10 produces the same 640 metric horsepower as the Huracan EVO (that would be 631 in the horsepower you’re more familiar with). For reference, that figure is actually more than Lamborghini’s GT3 and Super Trofeo race cars, which are both rated at 620 metric horsepower — though the GT3’s engine is limited to 550 metric hp in order to conform to the FIA’s balance of power regulations. The STO’s torque drops from the EVO’s 443 pound-feet to 417 lb-ft, with the upside of greater throttle response and quicker shift times from the seven-speed dual-clutch transmission. The torque reduction is also counteracted by ditching the all-wheel-drive powertrain for a rear-drive configuration, saving valuable weight.

Special six-piston front and four-piston rear Brembo CCM-R brakes borrow F1 tech for quadruple the amount of thermal conductivity over standard carbon ceramic stoppers. Maximum braking power also improves by 25%, and a dashboard display offers a brake temperature monitoring readout. Interestingly, the Pirelli P-Zero’s sidewalls were deemed too soft for the STO’s elevated downforce and cornering loads, which led Lamborghini to develop a special street and track compound with Bridgestone tires.

Our tester’s optional trim packages lend it an extravagantly customized feel inside, with contrasting black and white blocks of leather and Alcantara. This particular example flaunts a laundry list of trim options including “Full Livery Exterior Pack” ($37,800), “Contrast Pack” ($4,000), “Full Exterior Carbon Pack” ($21,600), and “Dark Chrome and Carbon” ($8,600). And that’s just for starters. In fact, the options list is so lengthy on our borrowed sled that already had the hefty starting price of $327,838 balloons to a remarkable $442,033 thanks to the sky-high pile of extras.

Ameliorating the dizzying expense is the heady blast of the naturally aspirated V10, which alerts neighbors and friends blocks away that there’s a braggadocious bad boy in town. There’s still nothing quite like sitting in a Lamborghini and firing up a big naturally aspirated V10, even if its doors open this way –>, not that ^^ way. The Huracan’s seats still sit surprisingly tall within the cabin, but the lack of floormats and bare carbon fiber door panels drive home the racecar theme. The digital dashboard and centrally positioned touchscreen add a techy touch. That said, the extreme reductionism annoyingly removes the volume knob. You have to dig into the touchscreen to adjust the sound level.

As before, drive modes are controlled via a small red toggle at 6 o’clock on the steering wheel, managing the behavior of the engine, transmission, traction control, stability control, rear-wheel steering, torque vectoring, and ABS. In this case, the modes are named STO, Trofeo, and Pioggia— street, race, and rain— and each delivers a palpably different character. Pull away in Pioggia, and the STO plays docile and soft, responding to inputs like a purring pussycat. Tap into Trofeo, and the Lamborghini turns into an easily angered predator, with a razor throttle response and sharp immediacy to steering inputs. This is the mode that makes the STO feel most consistent with its aggro looks: it begs you to jam the throttle, which in turn can kick the tail out with dramatic tirespin. Trofeo isn’t the mode you want if you’re seeking the quickest lap times, but it’s arguably the most fun, uncorking the fiery personality of the STO’s sonorous V10, and its disarming effects on yaw angle. While it’s not the torquiest at lower rpm, the engine winds itself up to produce a satisfying rush of power as the virtual tach climbs to a satisfying 8,500 rpm redline. STO mode minimizes the drama in the interest of lap times, trading tire spin for forward motion and curtailing slides in order to more effectively clip apexes. It’s a less fun, but more effective way to maximize this Lamborghini’s elevated abilities.

Piloting the STO through Malibu’s most challenging canyon roads reveals staggering reserves of performance beneath its (mostly) carbon fiber skin. Unlike the EVO, there’s no second guessing the intentions of the chassis, just a direct, linear relationship between driver inputs and vehicle dynamics. The STO meets and exceeds speed limits with staggering ease. And its outrageous appearance would make pleading your cause to an officer of the law all but impossible. This is a supercar that looks fast, and goes even faster— especially when delving towards its indicated 8,500 rpm redline, where the cabin is blasted with the brain rattling roar of the V10.

Despite the considerable sound and fury, there isn’t much learning curve needed to manage the STO’s capabilities, primarily because its machinery feels more analog than digital. Credit the linearity of the naturally aspirated engine, which lacks a turbocharger’s ramp-up under boost. However, the bigger differentiator here is the chassis: the steering, with its fixed ratio in the STO, feels intuitive and offers good feel, the connection to the road yields (mostly) predictable results. The exception is when the throttle is mashed and the sticky Bridgestones are overcome, and at higher speeds it feels like the aero’s considerable downforce is helping keep the wedgy two-seater in contact with tarmac. Brakes? We barely tapped into their capacity on the road despite heavy application, lending credibility to Lamborghini’s claims of their trackworthiness.

If anything, experiencing the Huracan STO on public roads reveals the striking difference between its stratospheric performance envelope, and the stifling limitations of the real world. The STO can have your license yanked quicker than you can say Super Trofeo Omologata, its namesake which indicates its homologation from racing. But what a way to go: this latest Lamborghini samples the best of what its winning race cars have to offer, while offering navigation, Bluetooth, and a sound system that’s almost decent enough to overpower the plaintive wail of its V10. In spite of the creature comforts, the roadgoing STO manages to lap the Hockenheim circuit in 1:48.86, a mere 2 seconds behind its racecar counterpart, which wears slicks.

Its maker calls this Huracan a “celebration of the combustion engine,” which couldn’t be a truer statement since all Lamborghini model lines will be hybridized by 2024. Until then, savor the STO, which achieves its mission of putting a racecar on the road with stunning totality.

2021 Lamborghini Huracán Evo RWD First Drive | One smart, well-groomed bull

LE CASTELLET, France — Growing up in the 1990s, the Italian supercars I read about sounded like the automotive equivalent of kayaking over a waterfall — thrilling, unforgettable, and potentially very hazardous. The industry’s elites were often described as cramped, unpredictable, and generally finicky but extremely rewarding for the few skilled enough to tame them.

It’s a stigma that still hovers above the supercar segment like a dark cloud in 2021, yet with a handful of notable exceptions, it hasn’t been accurate in many years. It takes little more than a lively jaunt in a 2021 Lamborghini Huracán Evo RWD to spot how Italy’s unique breed of road weapon has evolved over the past few decades.

Autoblog has spent time in the Huracán Evo before, but it was in an all-wheel-drive model that we put through its paces on the Willow Springs track in Southern California. Fast-forward to 2021, and I’m in a rear-wheel-drive coupe on the picturesque winding roads surrounding the Paul Ricard circuit in Southern France. I couldn’t sneak my way onto the track for a few laps because Super Trofeo and GT3-spec variants of the Huracán hogged it all weekend.

Several carmakers positioned all over the automotive spectrum have used the Evo designation. In Lamborghini-speak, it denotes not a rally-bred sports sedan but an evolution of the Huracán with subtle design tweaks that add downforce and increase the amount of cooling air channeled to the engine bay. It still looks like a Huracán, but you don’t need a magnifying glass to tell the updated model apart from its predecessor, especially from the back.

Lamborghini saves scissor doors for its V12-powered models, like the Aventador S, so the Huracán’s swing out like in a normal car’s. Once inside, the first thing you notice is that it feels like a proper luxury car. The cabin is dominated by Alcantara, leather, and a type of carbon fiber called Forged Composites (which was developed in-house by the brand). It’s all very well put together; the fit and finish is excellent. In the driver’s seat, you face a digital instrument cluster whose layout changes depending on the driving mode selected (they’re called Strada, Sport, and Corsa, respectively) and a three-spoke steering wheel with a switch that lets you select the three aforementioned profiles.

Even a supercar needs technology in 2021. Stuffing a mammoth engine in a lightweight chassis hidden under an attention-grabbing body is no longer enough to lure enthusiasts. Lamborghini knows this, so one of the tricks it taught the Huracán before assigning it the Evo nameplate is a new infotainment system displayed on an 8.4-inch touchscreen. This is a major update, because the original Huracán released in 2014 didn’t have a touchscreen. Its infotainment system was displayed in the instrument cluster. Specific to Lamborghini, the software is quick, straightforward to navigate, and the screen’s graphics are almost as sharp as the exterior design. Better yet for technophiles, Amazon’s Alexa voice assistant is programmed directly into the system.

Embedding a tablet-like screen into the center console allowed Lamborghini to send a variety of buttons back to the parts bin, including the volume knob, but there’s one that hasn’t been dethroned yet: the ignition switch. It’s located under a red flap, fighter jet-style, and pushing it fires off a naturally-aspirated, 5.2-liter V10 tuned to deliver 602 horsepower at a screaming 8,000 rpm and 413 pound-feet of torque at a slightly less riotous 6,500 rpm. It’s mounted directly behind the driver, where you’d find booster seats and/or a load of suitcases in more pedestrian sports cars, and it spins the rear wheels via a seven-speed dual-clutch automatic transmission. Rear-wheel-drive is this version of the Huracán’s party trick: it swaps four-wheel grip for oversteer and loses about 70 pounds by relinquishing its front axle and the all-wheel-drive model’s rear-wheel steering system. It also lets 29 horses escape from its cavalry.

We know the Huracán is capable of great things on the track — there’s a good reason Lamborghini makes no major chassis modifications to the cars it builds for its Super Trofeo one-make series — but it lives up to the hype even if you prefer not to don a racing suit. It whooshes off the line with a soft brutality that makes you immediately understand the definition of a supercar as its exhaust system trumpets out an addicting racecar-like tune. The 29-horsepower difference between the rear- and all-wheel-drive Huracán isn’t instantly perceptible, there is plenty of power to go around, and hitting 60 mph from a stop takes about 3.1 seconds. Having less weight over the front axle also makes a difference in terms of handling, especially in Sport mode. Corsa mode kills all electronics and is best saved for the track.

Sport is the sweet spot in the driving mode hierarchy, then. It makes Lamborghini’s smallest bull high-strung without turning it into a beast that can’t be tamed (or, worse, one that tames its driver), and it unlocks just the right amount of aggression to make twisty roads feel like a roller coaster. With your foot buried in the throttle, and your right hand on the carbon fiber shift paddle, ready for a split-second upshift, the Huracán displays a level of agility that’s more natural than what you get in the all-wheel-drive model with its trick four-wheel steering system. It’s not better or worse; it’s a different breed of supercar. The steering is direct and accurate, the suspension keeps body roll at bay, and brake rotors the size of a medium pizza slow the Huracán at least as quickly as it accelerates.

Don’t get the wrong idea: Grip is phenomenal, even without the front wheels receiving power. That’s partly due to the electronic wizardry happening behind the scenes, and to styling revisions that increase downforce on the front axle.

On a track, the fun only ends when the safety car comes out, or when the checkered flag stretches its threads. On the street, motorists routinely encounter situations that are tedious, annoying, or plain bland. The V10 is as bored as I am humming behind a Citroën C15 — a simple, do-it-all van with a life expectancy that rivals a red dwarf star’s — on a narrow road with too many oak tree-lined blind corners to pass, but it doesn’t show it. Flick the steering-wheel-mounted switch to engage Strada mode (which numbs most chassis settings and hushes the exhaust), crank up the radio, and comfortably follow along as the air conditioning keeps you cool. This compliance shows another facet of the Huracán, and it’s part of what sets this car apart from its less docile predecessors.

Drawbacks? Yep, even in a Lamborghini, you’ll find a couple. Cargo capacity is largely symbolic, so you’ll need to get creative if you plan to spend a week on the road. I don’t think anyone makes a trailer hitch for a Huracán, but several aftermarket vendors sell roof boxes that look really cool. And, it goes without saying that subtlety isn’t available from Sant’Agata Bolognese. While the Huracán can make you feel like you’re flying, it’s never under the radar. These quirks have been passed down from generation to generation; the V12-powered Miura was hardly a role model in the realm of practicality.

Configured with rear-wheel-drive, the Lamborghini Huracán Evo is one of the purest expressions of the supercar ethos money can buy. It’s quick, head-turning, loud, expensive, and unapologetically rowdy, which is exactly what it should be. Anything less would be a monstrous insult to the Italian gods of motoring, especially coming from one of the companies that laid the foundations of the segment as we know it in 2021. On a secondary level, it’s relatively easy to live with thanks to a luxurious interior and just the right amount of in-car technology. Sure, it falls short in nearly every category when compared to the all-wheel-drive model on paper, but its character can’t be quantified.

Supercars have never been merely about numbers, after all.

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Bugatti Chiron Pur Sport Review | It’s the slowest but the quickest

Apparently, even some Bugatti owners consider the real-world ramifications of a $3.6-million, 1,500-horsepower car. The Chiron Pur Sport is proof. Somewhere, perhaps between the helipad and the superyacht, Bugatti prospects are realizing they’ll never have the opportunity or skill to reach 300 mph, or 261 mph — the respective top speeds of the Chiron Super Sport 300+ and standard Chiron.

The Pur Sport squeezes a mere 217 mph from its own 8.0-liter, 16-cylinder, quad-turbo engine. But Bugatti says the Pur Sport is the quickest Chiron at any speed between zero and 217 mph. It’s also the lightest, sharpest-cornering, least-insulated version — optimized for a driver’s sensory stimulation, versus the largely psychological bragging rights of top speed. Consider it the high-performance version of one of history’s highest-performing cars.

After driving the Pur Sport in Connecticut, with three-time 24 Hours of Daytona-winner Butch Leitzinger riding shotgun, I’ll say it’s definitely the one you want. “You” here would refer to Powerball winners, a payback-minded Melinda Gates, or silver-spooners who scoop up one of 60 Pur Sports, among 500 Chirons scheduled for production through about 2023.

Leitzinger explains how it all works, as we walk around a Pur Sport in striking Atlantic Blue paint. Tasteful copper trim adorns the Bugatti’s signature C-shaped line that shelters doors ahead of the side inlets for turbo air and their intercooler radiators. Front wheel-arch vents extract more air. Less-tasteful is the optional number “16” emblazoned on the Pur Sport’s widened horseshoe grille, as if anyone could forget the unsurpassed cylinder count. Ditto for giant “Bugatti” lettering on the Pur Sport’s angled, 74-inch-wide rear wing. Add a Bugatti pillow, and it could double as a sunbathing deck. (As with everything Bugatti, the jersey
number and lettering are entirely a matter of choice.)

The fixed wing is tasked solely with downforce, replacing the electro-hydraulic wing/air-brake on other Chirons that adjusts to trim drag for record-setting acceleration runs. Its stanchion and a massive diffuser form a cool X-shape, atop an artfully thin-walled, 3D-printed titanium exhaust, its temperature-resistant outlets seemingly large enough to service a nuclear reactor.

The view-blocking wing saves 22 pounds, among 110 pounds of total weight savings versus a Chiron. That includes magnesium wheels that save a critical 36 pounds of unsprung weight, with optional carbon-fiber aero blades to aid brake cooling and reduce turbulence. There’s less interior sound dampening and slimmer seats. Four driven wheels are wrapped in staggered Michelin Pilot Sport 2R tires, including 355/25/21s at the rear. Since the tires don’t have to withstand gyroscopic torture and heat above 260 or even 300 mph, Bugatti specced a softer, more aggressive rubber compound that delivers sharper turn-in and 10% more grip. The same trade-off allows more negative wheel camber front and rear, boosting agility over pure velocity. Handling gets another upgrade with 65% stiffer springs up front, 33% firmer at the rear, with re-tuned dampers, stiffer top mounts and new carbon-fiber anti-roll bars.

I hop into the driver’s seat, press the start button, and hear the improbable, 8.0-liter W16 chuff to life. There’s Alcantara everywhere, replacing the Holy Cow leather of other Chirons. That includes a flat-bottomed steering wheel and door panels with a laser-scored pattern. The nubby material underlines the Pur Sport’s raw functionality, but to me, doesn’t exactly scream seven-figure car. I’m not sure what would help. A Chinchilla headliner? A Patek Philippe tourbillon in the dash? Either way, this wannabe Bugatti buyer wants his leather back. Black-anodized aluminum and titanium switchgear replace the usual aluminum finish. There’s no cupholder, center navigation screen, or the Audi-based Virtual Cockpit you might expect in this VW Group halo car; but the enormous, 300-mph center speedometer is certainly an invitation to play.

We ease out of Bugatti of Greenwich, the showroom that took possession of America’s first Pur Sport back in January. Leitzinger points the way to the winding Merritt Parkway, one of my favorite impromptu test spots in the area, where I’ve lately rocked the new 228-horsepower Volkswagen GTI, a 473-hp BMW M4 and a 650-horsepower Porsche 911 Turbo S. The Bugatti has more horsepower than those three cars combined, and nearly as much torque, at 1,180 pound-feet, peaking at just 2,000 rpm.

From stoplight to roughly 60 or 80 mph, the Pur Sport accelerates like that Porsche Turbo or a Tesla Model S P100D: insanely fast, yet familiar. Then things change, quickly. All previous points of comparison are blurred and elided. An opening in traffic lets me snap off a few paddle shifts through the seven-speed, dual-clutch gearbox. The next thing I know, we’re brushing 140 mph. Even that 911 Turbo S, or a Lamborghini Huracan Performante, feels like it’s starting to work for speed by that point. Not the Bugatti, which feels determined to show off its “reduced” 217-mph apogee. “It’s a rocket that doesn’t slow down,” Leitzinger says.

The Pur Sport’s seven forward gear ratios are all shortened by 15 percent, keeping the engine in its Wonka-level sweet spot and helping the car burst from corner exits. About 80 percent of the transmission components are new. Engine redline rises by 200 rpm, to 6,900 rpm. And where the Chiron’s whistling turbos and pleasurable gasps from its wastegates still dominate the soundtrack, reduced cabin insulation here admits more of the engine’s 64-valve mechanical symphony.

Bugatti cites a 0-60 mph sprint in less than 2.3 seconds, 0 to 124 (200 kph) in 5.9 seconds, and 0 to 186 (300 kph) in 12.4 seconds. That 0-to-124-mph run shaves a significant 0.6 second from the Chiron’s time, with 186 arriving 1.1 seconds quicker. A quarter-mile takes 9.4 seconds at a silly 158 mph. The Bugatti made every car I drove before and after seem slow. Leitzinger concurs, recalling the time he drove his father’s Mercedes just after the Bugatti and was convinced something on it was broken.

Brakes are as strong as you’d pray for in a car this powerful, thanks to the Pur Sport’s enlarged rotors and titanium base pad. Reeling in cars ahead and squeezing the brakes at 125 mph, I’m back down to 55 before the Prius cohort even knows what hit them.

But it’s the Bugatti’s newfound agility that may be most remarkable. I didn’t get to detour the Pur Sport to the tight-radius mountain roads north of New York City, but the Merritt’s triple-digit sweepers were still telling. The Bugatti’s re-tuned steering feels as natural and engaging as any electric rack in the industry, including from Ferrari or Porsche. Weight and feedback build in beautiful tandem with rising g forces. The poise and handling is all the more remarkable considering the Pur Sport’s AWD and a still-chunky curb weight above 4,300 pounds. To take full advantage, a new ESC Sport Plus mode loosens the electronic leash for skilled drivers, with delayed intervention from the traction control.

Punching up financial numbers on this Bugatti seems pointless — dollars being as fungible as Dogecoins to its buyers and collectors — but I can’t resist a few. For just $220,000, about the base price of a Ferrari Roma, Bugatti offers a “split” body option that renders the Pur Sport’s lower third in exposed carbon fiber. That’s right, $220,000 to not paint the entire body. (Bugatti would surely prefer some half-full description of the paint treatment). And a new Skyview option, with two fixed glass panels astride the Chiron’s roof fin, is an easy skip for $60,000, especially because there’s no roller shade or electrochromic tint to tame the sun. With that Skyview (but no split paint) and a surprisingly short options list, including a $60,000 Interior Package (don’t ask), this Pur Sport checked out at $3,788,900. And here I thought a Porsche Boxster GTS 4.0 was a dream car, at precisely $100,000 with options and a stick.

Ultimately, the craziest part isn’t how much a Chiron costs, or fast it goes — that’s all crazy enough — but how easygoing it feels. Where some hypercars feel like stressed-out animals on the street, the Chiron trundles as happily as a Lexus GT in the construction traffic we encounter and when rolling through country-estate Connecticut. At that mellow pace, only the ongoing freak-out from fellow drivers reminds us how singular and sublime the Bugatti must appear.

“There are many sports-car owners who have a 600-horsepower car that’s already trying to kill them,” Leitzinger says. Instead, 60 of them will enjoy a 1,500-hp Bugatti, the most Jekyll-and-Hyde automobile in human history, and live to tell the tale.

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2020 Ferrari F8 Spider First Drive | Al fresco driving without compromise

LOS ANGELES — Humanity may be hermetically sealed off by facemasks and lockdowns, but the 2020 Ferrari F8 Spider is ferociously gulping gallons of atmosphere into the cabin as I dice through Malibu’s canyon roads. At least the al fresco exotic can button up in a pinch: Give it 14 seconds at speeds up to 28 mph, and the two-piece hardtop envelops the cockpit, shielding the Giallo Modena two-seater from breathy bystanders.

Microbes were the last thing on my mind while piloting Maranello’s roadster du jour, especially in the remote confines of the coastal Santa Monica mountain range. With a 710-horsepower twin-turbo V8 tucked behind me, it’s easy to see why: this $396,994 prancing horse absolutely rips, ticking off a claimed 62-mph time of 2.9 seconds (figure around 2.7 clicks to 60 mph). With a long enough leash, it should whisk to 211 mph.

Ferrari says Spider customers are more likely to have a passenger and less likely to visit a race track. Sounds about right. In this application, emotion does hold more sway than outright performance stats, especially when you’re traversing the perfect road with sunlight kissing you and your co-pilot. When behind the Spider’s steering wheel —  which, like an F1 car, crams buttons, switches and dials for turn signals, wipers, high beams into a concentrated space — the sense of occasion is palpable. The Spider still manages 0-60 mph and top speed numbers identical to the coupe (though .4 seconds are sacrificed on the sprint to 124 mph). But some stats still matter: The open-air model is 154 pounds heavier (though 44 pounds lighter than its predecessor, the 488 Spider), and any convertible is inevitably flexier and less responsive than its closed-roof counterpart. For those keeping score at home, there are also some nitpicky stylistic concessions that come with the cabrio. For instance, the juncture of the C-pillar to the rooftop isn’t quite as fluid, and the gorgeous, red-headed engine isn’t on display like it is in the coupe, but rather is relegated to visual anonymity.

At least the powerplant is still raucous, though its acoustic imprint is less clear in this form since the folding hardtop mechanism is nestled above it like baffled layer cake. Though the 3.9-liter V8’s thrum is still loud enough to broadcast its presence for miles, the effect is incrementally less intoxicating within the cockpit. However, the mill does become more vocal when the centrally positioned tachometer gets within sneezing distance of the 8,000-rpm redline. In both coupe and convertible form, the F8’s twin-turbo power is inarguably engaging, even if you miss the wonderfully aural experience of the late, great 458’s naturally aspirated V8. While the old model had a sensory advantage, it can’t compete with the F8’s power production, which peaks with 710 hp at 8,000 rpm and 568 pound-feet of torque at a low 3,250 rpm. Not bad for its relatively diminutive, 3.9-liter displacement.

Clicking the small, steering wheel-mounted manettino alters your driving experience dramatically. Sport, the mildest setting next to Wet, curtails power quite a bit, and keeps the F8’s tail tucked in through corners. While straight-line acceleration is breathtaking — especially when the tires are warm enough to properly hook up — in Sport mode, one could quickly forget that the mid-mounted V8 churns over 700 horsepower. It’s even easier to be deceived in the corners since the electronic aids subtly curtail engine output in order to keep things tidy. But dial the clicker up to Race, or especially TC Off (which disables traction control), and the powerplant’s furious energy unleashes with tire-spinning gusto. Despite the considerable 58.5% of weight over the rear axle, the drivetrain is simply more tenacious than the rubber, yielding easily modulated slides when the throttle is goosed. The Michelin Pilot Super Sports are exceptionally sticky, but they’re simply no match for the monster power of the blown V8.

But it’s not all mechanical grip and rear-drive brawn: this Ferrari has a few electronic tricks up its sleeve, among them a brake vectoring system that was first introduced in the 488 Pista. By braking individual wheels when necessary, the F8 feels light on its feet, ready to juke its way through the twistiest of corners with eye-opening agility. Surprisingly little of my tester’s $94,494 worth of optional equipment is dedicated to performance, though the carbon fiber steering wheel (part of a $7,593 package) does impart a feeling of steering precision by reducing rotational inertia, and the optional carbon racing buckets ($9,112) convey a more direct link between my seat-of-the-pants and the road. These are incremental (and arguably aesthetic) improvements. But hey, if you’re already window shopping a sports car that starts at $297,250 (before the $3,950 destination fee and $1,300 gas guzzler tax), what’s another $100k for bits and baubles?

Getting into a high-speed rhythm proves surprisingly easy once you’ve acclimated to the F8’s sense of athleticism and immediacy. Though not quite as manic as special performance variants like the 488 Pista (or dialed-to-11 spinoffs like the F12 TDF), you’re best off managing this bad boy with a heightened attitude of mindfulness. Velocity accumulates nearly instantaneously, especially since the tachometer needle seems to find the 8,000-rpm redline quicker than you expect. The rev limiter feels surprisingly soft, but if you’ve decided the smooth, quick-shifting, dual-clutch seven-speed transmission isn’t for you, you’d better keep an eye open for those rapidly approaching revs. At least the LED-equipped steering wheel (part of the aforementioned $7,593 package) flashes red and blue to alert you of the impending power crescendo — and perhaps a subtle nod to law enforcement eventualities? Every Ferrari on the market comes equipped with standard carbon ceramic brakes, and the Spider’s operate with a bit of pedal effort, but outstanding feel and stopping power. At least they feel easier to modulate once they’re properly warmed up. And speaking of temperature, my F8 was spec’d without creature comforts like cooled/heated seats, though it did, thankfully, come with a $4,219 (!) Apple CarPlay option, which displays phone mirroring on the small dashboard-mounted screen next to the big, yellow tach.

If you’re obsessing over the skimpy standard equipment list and moaning about the real estate-like cost of entry, allow me to state the painfully obvious: The Ferrari F8 Spider probably isn’t for you. But if you’re a zealous (and spendy) driver with a hunger for stunning Italians, meandering roads, and healthy doses of Vitamin D, this open-air Ferrari just might be what the doctor ordered.

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2021 Porsche 911 Turbo S First Drive | Turbo by name, turbo by nature

NEWBURY, England — There are Porsches with turbocharged gasoline engines not badged as such, while electric ones now carry the famous script despite lacking an internal-combustion engine of any sort. There is, thankfully, no such confusion with the new 2021 911 Turbo S and the excesses of power, performance, tech and swagger it stands for.

We were supposed to experience this around Laguna Seca (plus the Central California roads shown in these pictures), where 1,000-plus horsepower turbocharged Porsches of the legendary Can-Am era once prowled. Instead, more modest, localized drives have been arranged. Hence the key to the Turbo S comes wrapped in a Ziploc bag, pushed at arm’s length across a screened counter with firm instructions to be back by 3 p.m. for full decontamination.

With some 200 horsepower and 200 pound-feet more than a 992 Carrera S, the new Turbo S is unequivocal in its superiority over regular 911s, that huge firepower augmented with expanded aero and tech I’d love to have tested at Laguna Seca. Narrow, twisty English lanes don’t hold quite the same romance, but exploring the huge disparity between the Turbo’s abilities and what you can responsibly get away with at road speeds is an interesting challenge in its own right.

There is still plenty to appreciate. The basic format is familiar, given a 3.8-liter, twin-turbo flat-six driving all four wheels through a PDK transmission (now an eight-speed), active anti-roll bars, four-wheel steering and more. Up to 368 pound-feet of drive can now go to the front axle, and the car’s footprint has increased, thanks to a 1.8-inch wider front track and bigger wheels, now 20 inches up front and 21 at the rear. The scope and modes of the active aero have also been greatly expanded, with a variable-position rear wing and three-piece, deployable front splitter. To protect the latter, an optional nose-lift system is also available and will, at a later date, gain GPS-enabled actuation to remember locations of steep curbs encountered on regular drives, be that your driveway at home or the entrance to the parking lot of your favorite morning coffee stop.

The engine is new and based on the 3.0-liter in regular 992 Carreras, employing bigger, variable-vane turbos in a new “symmetrical” layout fed by the scoops on the rear fenders and new, additional intakes ahead of the rear wing. Power is up from 580 horsepower to 640 with torque now at 590 pound-feet, the latter increased by 37 pound-feet. Top speed is still 205 mph, but the car gets there quicker, with 0 to 60 mph coming in just 2.6 seconds, while the quarter-mile is demolished three tenths sooner at 10.5 seconds. So, it’s fast. Really, really fast.

You knew that, though. The important thing for the 911 Turbo is not how fast it goes, it’s how it goes fast. And an area Porsche has been working on since the previous 991. In general, the 992 is more refined and GT-like than any 911 that’s gone before. Does the new Turbo follow this path? Or has it been permitted to retain a little of the rawness engineered into its predecessor?

The answer, thankfully, is both. When cruising, you appreciate the improved refinement and reduction in the tire roar that made previous Turbos a bit of a chore on poor surfaces. As in regular 992s, the new PDK is so slick your only notification of a shift is a twitch in the tachometer needle and slight change in tone. The low-slung cabin is comfortable, expensively finished and full of tech.   

Then you turn the little mode selector on the wheel to Sport Plus and realize the $203,500 MSRP is fair, given that you effectively get two cars for the price of one. Increased tech bandwidth puts greater distance between the extremes of the Turbo’s nature, accentuated further by the optional PASM Sport suspension and Sport Exhaust System on our test car. The former drops the car 0.39 inch closer to the ground while the latter unleashes exciting rasps, gargles and whooshes from the engine bay to remind you the Turbo script represents more than just a trim level.

The swell — and sound — of boost is a thrilling appetizer for the explosive rush of acceleration that comes fractions of a second later, this merest hint of lag actually more exciting than the more binary power delivery of older Turbos. Want it even more hardcore? A Lightweight package saving 66 pounds through removal of the rear seats, reduced sound deadening, thinner glass, fixed buckets and a lightweight battery also will be available (at a price yet to be confirmed).

Even without that, there’s a sense of tension and focus in the sportier modes contrasting with the more relaxed vibe in the normal setting. You know everything is synthesized, augmented and filtered. But it feels so seamlessly harmonized. Any slack to the wheel is instantly dialed out, the response sharp but faithful, the extra range of movement in the rear-wheel steering helping to shrink the car around you, no matter that it measures 6 feet 3 inches across the rear.

It’s now nearly as wide at the front but, through the corners, that characteristic 911 weight transfer endures. Even at street speeds, you get a whisper of hip shimmy under braking, a lightness in the nose if you don’t settle it before turning in, the squat and rotation as you nail the throttle and the violent eruption of boost-enhanced acceleration as the wheel unwinds on corner exit. That Porsche has used tech as a means to communicate these sensations even at relatively modest speeds is a relief to those fearing a digitized Turbo experience. And you know it could deliver the same 365 days a year on any road, come rain or shine.

There is nothing revolutionary about the new 911 Turbo S. But that’s not what anyone wants. Based on more than four decades of rich heritage, there is absolutely no confusion about what Turbo stands for.

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McLaren Senna GTR Review | Driving the track-ready, race-banned hypercar

Reviewed by J.R. Hildebrand for TechCrunch. Hildebrand is a professional racing and test driver, nine-time Indianapolis 500 competitor and adjunct lecturer for The Revs Program at Stanford University.

SNETTERTON, England — The McLaren Senna GTR shouldn’t exist.

This feat of engineering and design isn’t allowed on public roads. It’s built for the track, but prohibited from competing in motorsports. And yet, the GTR is no outlier at McLaren . It’s part of their Ultimate Series, a portfolio of extreme and distinct hypercars that now serve as the foundation of the company’s identity and an integral part of its business model.

The P1, introduced in 2012, was McLaren Automotive’s opening act on the hypercar stage and was an instant success for both the brand and its business. McLaren followed it up with the P1 GTR, then went on to chart a course toward the Ultimate Series of today and beyond.

Since 2017, the automaker has added the Senna, Speedtail, Senna GTR and now the open-cockpit Elva to the Ultimate Series portfolio. While the GTR is certainly the most extreme and limited in how and where it can be used, it follows a larger pattern of the Ultimate Series as being provocatively designed with obsessive intent.

Automotive takes the wheel

Purpose-built race cars that call on every modern tool of engineering and design have historically been produced for one purpose: winning. This objective, nourished by billions of dollars of investment from the motorsports industry, has led to technological and performance breakthroughs that have eventually trickled down to automotive.

The pipeline that has produced a century of motorsports-driven innovation is narrowing as racing regulations become more restrictive. Now, a new dynamic is taking shape. Automotive is taking the technological lead.

Take the McLaren Senna road car, the predecessor to the GTR. McLaren had to constrain the design of the Senna to make it road legal. But the automaker loaded it with active aerodynamics and chassis control systems that racing engineers could only dream about.

McLaren wasn’t finished. It pushed the bounds further and produced a strictly track-focused and unconstrained race car that expands upon the Senna’s lack of conformity. The Senna GTR might be too advanced and too fast for any racing championship, but McLaren said to hell with it and made the vehicle anyway.

The bet paid off. All 75 Senna GTR hypercars, which start at $1.65 million, sold before the first one was even produced.

The Senna GTR is the symbol of a new reality — a hypercar market that thrives on the ever-more-extreme, homologation standards be damned.

Two weeks ago, I had a chance to get behind the wheel of the Senna GTR at the Snetterton Circuit in the U.K. to find out how McLaren went about developing this wholly unconstrained machine.

Behind the wheel

Rr-rr-rr-kra-PAH! The deafening backfire of the GTR’s 814-horsepower 4.0-liter twin-turbo V8 engine snapped me to attention and instantly transported me to the moment earlier in the day that provided the first hints of what my drive might be like.

Rob Bell, the McLaren factory driver who did track development for the GTR, was on hand to get the car warmed up. Shortly after he set out, the car ripped down the front-straight, climbing through RPMs with an ear-protection-worthy scream that reverberated off every nearby surface, an audible reminder of how unshackled it is.

As Bell approached Turn 1, the rear wing quickly dropped back to its standard setting from the straightaway DRS (drag reduction system) position, then to an even more aggressive airbrake as he went hard to the brakes from 6th gear down to 5th to 4th. The vehicle responded with the signature kra-PAH! kra-PAH! and then promptly discharged huge flames out the exhaust as the anti-lag settings keep a bit of fuel flowing off-throttle.

I thought to myself, ‘Holy sh*t! This thing is no joke!’

Sliding into the driver’s seat, I feel at home. The cockpit is purposeful. The track was cold with some damp spots, and the GTR is a stiff, lightweight race car with immense power on giant slick tires. Conventional wisdom would suggest the driver — me in this case — should slowly work up to speed in these otherwise treacherous conditions. However, the best way to get the car to work is to get temperature in the tires by leaning on it a bit right away. Bell sent me out in full “Race” settings for both the engine and electronic traction and stability controls. Within a few corners — and before the end of the lap — I had a good feel for the tuning of the ABS, TC and ESC, which were all intuitive and minimally invasive.

As a racing driver, it’s rare to feel a tinge of excitement just to go for a drive. As professionals, driving is a clinical exercise. But the GTR triggered that feeling.

I started by pushing hard in slower corners and before long worked my way up the ladder to the fast, high-commitment sections. The car violently accelerated up through the gears, leaving streaks of rubber at the exit of every corner.

Once the car is straight, drivers can push the DRS button to reduce drag and increase speed for an extra haptic kick. The DRS button is now a manual function on the upper left of the steering wheel to give the driver more control over when it’s deployed. After hitting the DRS, the car dares you to keep your right foot planted on the throttle, then instantly hunkers down under braking with a stability I’ve rarely experienced.

The active rear wing adds angle while the active front flaps take it out to counterbalance the effect of the car’s weight shifting forward onto the front axle, letting you drive deeper and deeper into each corner. It’s sharply reactive; the GTR stuck to the road, but still required a bit of driving with my fingertips out at the limit on that cold day. I soon discovered that the faster I went, the more downforce the car generated, and the more speed I was able to extract from it.

Tip to tail

In almost any other environment, the Senna road car is the most shocking car you’ve ever seen. Its cockpit shape is reminiscent of a sci-fi spaceship capsule. The enormous swan neck-mounted rear wing is one highlight in a long list of standout features. The Senna road car looks downright pedestrian next to the GTR.

The rear wing stretches off the back of the car with sculpted carbon fiber endplates and seamlessly connects to the rear fender bodywork. The diffuser that emerges from the car’s underbody — creating low pressure by accelerating the airflow under the car for added downforce — is massive. The giant 325/705-19 Pirelli slicks are slightly exposed from behind, giving you the full sense of just how much rubber is on the ground, and the sharp edges of the center exit exhaust tips are already a bluish-purple tint.

The cockpit shape and dihedral doors are instantly recognizable from the road car. But inside, the GTR is all business. The steering wheel is derived from McLaren’s 720S GT3 racing wheel, a butterfly shape with buttons and rotary switches aplenty. The dash is an electronic display straight out of a race car; six-point belts and proper racing seats complete the aesthetic.

Arriving at the front of the car, the active front wing-flaps are as prominent as ever, while the splitter extends several inches farther out in front of the car and is profiled with a raised area in the center to reduce pitch sensitivity given the car’s much lower dynamic ride-height. In fact, nearly the entire front end of the car has been tweaked; there are additional dive-planes, the forward facing bodywork at the sides of the car have been squared-off and reshaped, and an array of vortex generators have been carved into the outer edge of the wider, bigger splitter surface.

All of these design choices in the front point to the primary area of development from the Senna road-car to the GTR: maximizing its l/d or ratio of lift (in this case the inverse of lift, downforce) to drag.

McLaren pulled two of its F1 aerodynamicists into the GTR project to take the car’s aero to a new level. The upshot: a 20% increase in the car’s total downforce compared to the Senna road car, while increasing aero efficiency — the ratio of downforce to drag — by an incredible 50%. The car is wider, lower and longer than its road-going counterpart, and somehow looks more properly proportioned with its road-legal restrictions stripped away to take full advantage of its design freedom.

This was the car the Senna always wanted to be.

The development process of the GTR was short and to the point. When you have F1 aerodynamicists and a GT3 motorsport program in-house attacking what is already the most high-performing production track car in the industry, it can be. There were areas they could instantly improve by freeing themselves of road-car constraints — the interior of the car could be more spartan; the overall vehicle dimensions and track width could increase; the car would no longer need electronically variable ride heights for different road surfaces so the suspension system could be more purposeful for track use; the car would have larger, slick tires.

All this provided a cohesive mechanical platform upon which to release the aerodynamic assault of guided simulation and CFD.

The GTR benefits from the work of talented humans and amazing computer programs working together with a holistic design approach. What was once a sort of invisible magic, aerodynamics has become a well-understood means of generating performance. But you still have to know what you’re seeking to accomplish; the priorities for a car racing at Pikes Peak are much different than those of a streamliner at Bonneville.

The development team for the GTR sought to maximize the total level of downforce that the tires could sustain, then really kicked their efforts into gear to clean up airflow around the car as much as possible. Many of the aggressive-looking design elements that differentiate the GTR from the Senna are not just for additional downforce but to move air around the car with less turbulence — less turbulent air means less drag. You can’t see it or feel it, but it certainly shows up on the stopwatch, and is often the difference between a car that just looks fast and one that actually is.

I hadn’t asked how fast the car was relative to other GT race cars before I drove it. I think a part of me was fearful that despite its appearance and specs it might be wholly tuned down to be sure it was approachable for an amateur on a track day. And that would make sense, as that’s the likely use-case this car will have. After driving the GTR, I didn’t hesitate for a second to ask, to which they humbly said that it’s seconds faster than their own McLaren 720S GT3 car, and still had some headroom.The Senna GTR is another exercise in exploring the limits of technology, engineering and performance for McLaren, enabled by a market of enthusiasts with the means to support it. And this trend is likely to continue unless motorsports changes the rules to allow hypercars.

McLaren’s next move

The Automobile Club de l’Ouest, organizers of the FIA World Endurance Championship, which includes the 24 Hours of Le Mans, has been working for years to develop regulations that could include them. While these discussions are gaining momentum, it remains to be seen whether motorsport can provide a legitimate platform for the hypercar in the modern era.

The last time this kind of exercise was embarked on was more than 20 years ago during the incredible but short-lived GT1-era at Le Mans that spanned from 1995 to 1998. It saw McLaren, Porsche, Mercedes and others pull out all the stops to create the original hypercars — in most cases comically unroadworthy homologation specials like the Porsche 911 GT1 Strassenversion (literally “street version”) and Mercedes CLK GTR — for the sole purpose of becoming the underpinnings of a winning race car on the world’s stage.

At that time, the race cars made sense to people; the streetcars were misfits of which only the necessary minimum of 25 units were produced in most cases, and the whole thing collapsed due to loopholes, cost, politics and the lack of any real endgame.

Today, the ACO benefits from a road-going hypercar market that McLaren played a key role in developing. Considering McLaren’s success with hyper-specific specialized vehicles in recent years, I’d bet the automaker could produce a vehicle custom-tailored to a worthy set of hypercar regulations. Even if not, McLaren will continue to develop and sell vehicles under its Ultimate Series banner.

And there’s already evidence that McLaren is doubling down.


McLaren shows off the open cockpit Elva.

McLaren’s Track 25 business plan targets $1.6 billion in investment toward 18 new vehicles between 2018 and 2025. The company’s entire portfolio will use performance-focused hybrid powertrains by 2025.

The paint had barely dried on the Senna GTR before McLaren introduced another new vehicle, the Elva. And more are coming. McLaren is already promising a successor to the mighty P1. I, for one, am looking forward to what else they have in store.