Driving on snow and ice is a ridiculous amount of fun.
The speeds are low, the banks are soft, the cars slide around, the jeopardy is minimal. But there’s another reason we do this: snow and ice ofer a superb testing environment. On tarmac, you have little idea of what the car’s drivetrain is doing unless you’re at tyre-shredding speeds. On ice, the sensations are magnifed, the characteristics exaggerated.
When grip disappears, you get a much better picture of how a car behaves: how the stability systems function, how well balanced it is, how well it shufes power between wheels and axles, what signals the steering delivers.
If a car performs balletically on ice, it’s almost a guarantee it’ll be a belter on your local B-road. Almost. Without wanting to give too much away, in the past we haven’t been overly enamoured by the Honda NSX... Tom Ford’s voyage of rediscovery starts on page 66.
Luckily, our theory holds true elsewhere, helping to add an extra dimension to our understanding of some cars, and pricking the reputation of others. See how the Merc-AMG GLC 63S performs against an Audi RS4 on page 102, how two sides of the 4WD tech war, Tesla Model S and Nissan GT-R, compare (page 82) and exactly what happens when light, lithe and little meets loud, lairy and large (page 90). There’s also an exclusive battle royale as the two 4WD-cum-RWD super-saloons, the Merc-AMG E63S and the brand-new BMW M5, go head-to-head; plus we’ve brought our long-term Ariel Nomad along to meet some equally bonkers kindred spirits. There’s a manual-gearboxed 911 GT3 wearing studded tyres (form an orderly queue), and a modest world exclusive. Ladies and gentleman, we have the new Aston Martin Vantage here, albeit dressed like a zebra with jaundice. Fifteen cars. And a snowmobile.
Most have arrived here from the UK after four days on a pair of covered transporters. “Here” is a woodyard deep in the heart of Sweden. It’s 7am, dark, still, and cold enough that the air rings, bringing an extra clarity to the noises that surround us. The clatter of straps being removed, the whine of electrics, the cough and splutter of engines starting, the crunch of snow under tyres, the air of excitement. And also the shrill realisation that at least one of the cars has a frozen starter motor, that several others are having electronic screen seizures, and that much of the food we’d packed into the Audi RS4 has frozen solid. TopGear is self-catering, but is now faced with burst bananas, mushy spuds and exploded drinks cans. The sausages, however, are very well preserved.
Distractions arrive: a tractor rattles into the yard. It’s wearing snowchains and an evil snowplough. It’s here to carve a track in our lake. Result. A burst of two-stroke noise heralds the arrival of a snowmobile; two chaps, one of whom I vaguely recognise, turn up with an ice-racing car. Several glorious old rally 911s trundle of to a separate lake, Marcus Grönholm drives through in a Polo R5. The locals say the conditions are the best in 10 years, the lake ice is over half-a-metre thick, we’re reminded that the 3km stretch from woodyard to lake is actually a stage of rally Sweden. TopGear doesn’t do holidays on ice, but if it did…
And then the paramedic turns up in a hearse.