O N THE ROAD
THE ROADS OF NORTH WALES HAVE BEEN evo’s hunting ground for 20 years, so although this quartet is honed for the track, because they are also legit road-legal machines we couldn’t resist taking them to our reference road routes to see how they fair. I start in the Ford. On the road it’s an intimidating machine. You know you fill every inch of your lane, often a little more as the kerdunk-kerdunk-kerdunk of the right-hand wheels hitting the catseyes telegraphs. Lamborghini Aventador aside, I’ve never driven as outsized a vehicle as this on these roads.
On the more open sections you can let the GT flow a little. Chippings clatter round the wheelarches, while the coarseness of the surface generates plenty of road noise. Coupled with the gruff, boosty soundtrack of the V6, driving the GT in the wild is an unfiltered experience. Torque is the overriding force at work, picking you up and pushing you to the next corner – which the Ford will slice through, a squeeze of steering input enough to tack through sweeping curves and a roll of the wrists for tighter turns.
It’s an intense and effortless sensation, but one that is perhaps a little too matter-of-fact. Beyond the initial excitement of simply being in the GT you crave more connection and dynamic nuance.
Swapping to the Exige is a real culture shock, the undersized Lotus feeling like you’re pulling on a T-shirt that’s shrunk in the wash. There’s connection and engagement in spades, and its size means you suddenly have so much more road to play with.
It’s a firm car by Lotus standards, and the steering is heavier and less bright as a result, but you still have the satisfaction of reading the road surface like Braille. I’d be lying if I said you don’t miss the epic reach of the GT, but the trade-off is sweetened by knowing you’re working the Exige harder more of the time. The slightly knotty gearshift when pushing to the maximum on track isn’t such an issue, though it’s still awkward to execute sweet heel-andtoe downshifts thanks to the mismatched pedal heights. Overall though, this is a car that still shines on the road.
The AMG somehow feels even more bombastic on the road. You savour the torque that bit more and enjoy the part-throttle to fullthrottle snap. It’s hard and sharply responsive, but the chassis has a 911 Gt3-like control, so the rear always feels like it can live with the front end’s response. Traction is strong if you’re sensitive with the throttle, and the electronics are there to be leant on. It really is a cracking effort from AMG – so much more of a cohesive and connected-feeling driver’s car than the lesser GT models and a very credible rival to Porsche’s best efforts. Speaking of which...
The wonder of the GT2 RS is that it combines a little of the other three and adds a whole heap of its own magic. Small enough to exploit, feelsome without being distracted, responsive without feeling edgy and stiffly suspended but with just enough ‘give’ to work with the road. Its performance is gut-wrenching, at once overwhelming and utterly absorbing.
The twin-turbo flat-six doesn’t have the searing rev range of the GT3’S normally aspirated motor, but it has its own character and a fierce delivery. One shaped by countless Le Mans victories, with a soundtrack so redolent of 956s and 962s. You can get to know it and explore its performance until common sense dictates enough is enough. Where you draw the line is down to you. Its greatness is rooted in how Porsche has managed to create a track-biased 911 so potent and yet so precise and exploitable on challenging roads.