DRIVEN. McLaren 675LT Spider
Feature | crankandpiston.com / EVO Middle East
Only 500 examples of the McLaren 675LT Spider will ever be made, meaning this could be James’ only chance to drive it…
Originally posted – 6 February, 2017 | crankandpiston.com | EVO Middle East magazine
It’s as I shift from fourth to fifth, watch the speedometer needle leap with almost affronted vigour, and feel the rising wail of the twin-turbo V8 knock my back teeth together, that my mind jumps back to the first time I ever drove a convertible McLaren. It was five years ago, only a couple of kilometres away from where we are now, and as they do today, the early morning rays are beginning to snake over the rocky outcrops that bookend our test route.
It was around about this time of year too, now that I think about it.
It may seem an odd thing to grow wistful about – the 20-plus-year careers of my contemporaries no doubt offer more interesting reading – but at the time, it was a big moment for me. The 12C Spider was the first bona fide supercar I ever drove, let alone was entrusted with the key fob. An all-too literal dark cloud though hung over that early morning drive, as did a sheen of fog so thick that the 12C’s V8 strained far fewer muscles than the headlights managed. In 2012, I was less familiar with these roads too than I am today, and opting for a winding mountain pass that ‘looked interesting’ on the occasionally glitching SatNav led to one underbody-shaving road hump after another for a full half kilometre. That the road ended with an Oman border check was particularly cruel, given that I had neither my passport nor documentation for the McLaren itself, and thus had no choice but do the wince-inducing 500m all over again.
To make matters worse, and with a fairly ropey photoshoot only just in the bag (minus that all important cover shot, as I later found out), the final nail in my mahogany resting place came when the 12C Spider, lower on fuel than I’d realised, ground to a halt almost two-dozen kilometres away from the nearest petrol station. I’m not sure if you’ve ever attempted to push a $285K supercar and its low hanging front splitter onto an awaiting low-loader, but I can assure you, it isn’t much fun.
Looking back, now more experienced and with a newly acquired charming streak of arrogance, it’s easy to laugh at these misadventures, particularly since today’s shoot is going so well. Chief snapper Hari has already bagged his ‘money shot’ (I’ll leave you to guess which one) and thanks to a suitably revolting 3am call time, the roads are empty enough for me to give the 666bhp twin-turbo V8 multiple squirts when the twisties open up.
There’s more to my 12C reminisces though than geographical proximity. Civilised aggression under acceleration is as much a trademark today as it was back then, even if the performance gap has shifted considerably (more on that in a second). Like 2012, I’m staggered that the 675LT Spider, a hardcore version of the already über dynamic 650S, can be semi-unhinged when off the leash, and yet sublimely comfortable at a cruise. Lowering the folding hardtop roof means the sometimes irritable air conditioning is having to work harder than normal, true, but the twin-turbo V8 rattle that’s ricocheting off both the alcantara cabin and the surrounding mountains is just a joy to listen to. Same story, five years apart.
More than this though, it’s because, like the 12C Spider, this was a test drive I never thought I’d get to experience. Back in 2012 after all, surely I was too raw, too green to be given such a task, and at the time, I made the most of what I thought would be my only taste of McLaren machinery. Today meanwhile, I’ve somehow bagged a drive in one of only 500 675LT Spiders that will ever be made. All of which were sold within two weeks of the order books being opened. Accordingly, the price for the Spider is both immaterial and eye-watering at $357,700, some $55K more than the coupe. And once again, I intend to make the most of it.
Even despite the legacy created by the F1 GTR LT that competed in the 1997 FIA GT Championship, nobody really expected a convertible 675LT – only the second ‘LT’ in 20 years – to make production. Not even McLaren at one stage, and only the collective requests (read ‘moaning’) of those who’d missed the opportunity to purchase a 675LT coupe meant the Spider was green lit. Client feedback was so strong in fact that McLaren has since confirmed the ‘LongTail’ range is set to be expanded further still in the years to come, in-line with Mercedes’ AMG division. And on that note, I’ll leave you to start ferreting down the back of the sofa for $250K of loose change. Back to the Spider.
Mechanically, there’s little difference between the 675LT Spider and its hard-top sibling. Both share the heavily revised 3.8-litre twin-turbo V8 that made its way across from the 650S, albeit with more efficient turbochargers and half of the componentry either tweaked or brand new for added grunt. Power and torque remain the same at 666bhp and 516lb ft, and the structural rigidity of McLaren’s second generation carbon fibre monocoque means the hardtop roof adds just 40kg to the coupe’s 1,230kg dry weight: 0-100kph is smashed in an identical 2.9 seconds, the Spider lagging just two-tenths behind on the run to the double ton.
Make no mistake, the Spider is stupidly quick. Plant the right foot and there’s an explosion of forward momentum akin to being punched in the face. Interestingly, in the lower revs, peak torque is limited to 443lb ft, McLaren sacrificing just a hint of low-end violence for a more dramatic torque curve, maximum acceleration and minimum wheel spin. The V8 is fully capable of producing the full beans earlier in the rev range and sustaining this ballistic momentum thereafter, but for a more engaging – almost ‘sledgehammer’ like – delivery, the full fat 516lb ft only kicks in as the needle rises above 5000rpm, delivering a monstrous, mid-range punch as it does so. It’s a setup that could easily come undone with the wrong transmission, but fortunately the gearshifts through the seven-speed dual clutch automatic are equally rapid. Almost brutally so.
Coupled to this are the engine notes rattling their way along the new titanium exhaust system, the warble slightly more emotive than the rather flat, metallic chorus in the 650S. For yet more of that engaging ‘drama’, the ignition cuts in the high revs during gear changes, un-burnt fuel eliciting a racecar-like shot through the exhaust that’s so fantastically over the top, it’s impossible not to love. In Sport mode at least: acoustically the V8 is quite tame when you leave everything in Normal mode.
Fast, fast and really quite fast then. Hardly a staggering upset, nor for that matter are the capabilities of the 675LT through the corners. The product of obsessive weight saving, the Spider weighs 100kg less than the equivalent 650S, kilograms being shaved from the chassis, the bodywork and the drivetrain itself among others. Even the windscreen is a few millimetres thinner. Alongside this, new lightweight alloys are clad with performance Pirelli P Zero Trofeo R to bring out the track-focused dynamics of the heavily stiffened chassis and the remapped dampers: the revised bodykit over the 650S produces a scarcely credible 40 per cent of additional downforce over 250kph, meaning the new steel double wishbone suspension has had to be stiffened an enormous 63 per cent at the front and 27 per cent at the rear. We’re a long way from 12C Spider territory here today.
Ah yes, the new aerokit. Like the coupe, the 675LT Spider incorporates a fair degree of ‘look at me’ carbon detailing to its lemon-gold – sorry, ‘Solis’ – paint scheme. Cue a brand new, extended front splitter and revised end plates, a new rear diffuser, revised side skirts and air intakes for revised airflow, less drag and improved downforce. Add a larger adaptive air brake to ensure the only way you’ll stop faster is if you hit a tree. The result? The Spider handles like a dream.
I’m aware how insufferably gittish I’m about to sound, but the intricate balance of the weight, feedback and rate of response through the steering in a McLaren supercar is as close to perfect as you’re likely to find. There’s no hyper-activity through the steering column as you’ll find on a Ferrari 488, nor a sense of mechanical omnipotence working behind the scenes á la the Porsche 911. It’s a sensation that’s much more grounded and granular, one that – hunkered as you are with the Le Mans style driving position, cocooned by the high shoulder line and rear buttresses – really makes you feel like an indelible link in the chain.
It’s a combination that leaves you beautifully in-tune with what the front wheels are doing, and coupled with a rigid chassis, allows the 675LT to skip from corner to corner, perfectly balanced (if there is a 40kg weight difference between the Coupe and the Spider, you’ll need to be superbly talented behind the wheel to notice). There’s a similar amount of connection to the rear wheels too. Trailbrake, or allow the natural momentum of the weight transfer out of the corners to do the work for you, and the rear wheels will begin to twitch, the subtle ESP safety net refraining from slamming down like a guillotine. More often than not, control comes through your right foot, the breakaway proving smooth and predictable enough to catch without armfuls of correction (feather the throttle and you’re good). The sense of connection. The gloriously intuitive response through both the steering and the front wheels. The seemingly never-ending build of confidence and control the 675LT offers its driver. It’s a connection you just don’t find in many performance cars these days, let alone a convertible.
I’m humbled a few days later when, trawling YouTube for some twin-turbo V8 background engine noise, I stumble across Bruno Senna giving the 675LT the Brazilian beans around Estoril, I think (I also find a nauseating amount of Shmee150 videos lauding his then-newly acquired powder blue example, but I’ll save you my thoughts on that garbage). Like my run, the drive and immediacy under turn-in is so effortless and natural, but it’s only when the rear wheels start to kick out of the tighter corners that I realize just how much the McLaren really has in reserve. Not that I’m overly worried. For my time with the 675LT Spider, I gave it my best for a once in a lifetime test drive.
Mind you, I have said this in the past too.
Images | Awesome Group and Harisanker S
Feature | crankandpiston.com / EVO Middle East | James Gent