What it’s like to drive a $350,000 supercar in Houston
I am not a “car” person.
I can’t rattle off the year, make and model of a vintage muscle car rumbling down U.S. 59. I can’t argue about synthetic oil versus conventional motor oil. And I certainly can’t dissect the guts of the machine.
But none of that mattered on a recent Wednesday, when the experts at the McLaren dealership in Houston handed me the keys to a $350,000 supercar, the McLaren 720S Coupe.
I was prepared for an hourlong training session about driving an actual spacecraft with wheels. Instead, the experts showed me a few suspension settings and said “have fun” on the wet streets of Houston, leaving me as nervous as Cameron Frye in his father’s Ferrari California in “Ferris Bueller’s Day Off.”
The test drive — one that lasted about 45 minutes and included a stop at Whataburger — was offered as part of a promotional event with McLaren North American President Tony Joseph, who was in town to talk about the brand’s future and its new car, the McLaren GT.
The GT, which touts a more comfortable ride for longer distances, is not officially for sale yet. Ultimately, Joseph wants to show people the brand has evolved since the company debuted the world’s fastest car in the 1990s, the McLaren F1.
“We still have a long way to go (in building awareness), but if you look at the amount of cars we’ve launched in such a short period of time, it’s remarkable,” Joseph said, adding that the company will move its U.S. headquarters from New York to Dallas by the end of the year.
The showroom
Houston and Dallas are the only two Texas cities where people can buy a McLaren retail, for the few who can afford it. Most models range from $210,000 to $350,000, with the rarer cars reaching $1 million.
Dozens of multicolored variations, from driver-friendly convertibles to coupe-style racers, lined the showroom at the Houston dealership, all with their signature dihedral doors. It felt like walking into Tony Stark’s garage.
One orange McLaren stood out because it was badly damaged with a cracked windshield and dented front fenders. Travis Robertson, a services and sales assistant at the dealership, said it was the same car that was featured in a Men’s Health article about the car’s tumble down a California hillside. Robertson credited the carbon-fiber cockpit for saving the article’s writer, who was a passenger in the vehicle.
I chose the blue 720S because it was one of the showroom’s more powerful cars that was still street legal. As the proud driver of a Toyota Rav4, I know a thing or two about powerful machines. And yet somehow, the 720S was still foreign to me.
It’s called a supercar for a reason. The 720S reaches top speeds up to 215 mph with 710 horsepower. It can hit 60 mph in roughly 2.5 seconds.
It also comes with the usual features on all McLarens, including fancy leather or suede seats and those eye-popping doors.
The car’s interior is surprisingly simple. It includes a navigation screen, paddle shifters on the steering assembly and a few dials to adjust features such as suspension settings. The engine starts with the push of a button.
The drive
It took me a few minutes to get the courage to leave the parking lot. Morning showers made the roads slick, and the car’s suspension and steering felt tighter than expected.
I later realized that, after a conversation with Robertson about the dangers of driving in track mode on slick roads, I promptly left the showroom in track mode on slick roads. That setting is designed for races, when the cars are pushed to their limits. I was just trying to get on the North Freeway.
The car felt strikingly low to the ground, especially on Houston highways dotted with 18wheelers and pickups. But people seemed to slow down as if I were a police officer, peeking over the next lane to get a look at the exotic metal animal.
Admittedly, I was so focused on returning the car in good condition that I didn’t push the limits. I drove a measly 80 mph, but even so, I got a taste of the car’s capabilities. In track mode, the accelerator needed more pressure to pick up speed. In comfort mode, a light tap on the gas sent the car cutting through the air, jumping from 40 to 60 in what felt like milliseconds.
The car elicited a few thumbsups. One driver in a Chevrolet Camaro revved his engine at a red light, as if to challenge me. A decal on the side of the car said “Venom,” so I backed away out of crippling intimidation.
At Whataburger, the car’s cup-holding capabilities were put to the test. It’s safe to say a 44-ounce Dr Pepper with a combo meal is a no-go in a McLaren. Only two small drinks fit. I also didn’t find a good place to store rush-hour snacks, but I’m sure a Houstonian could figure it out.
Needless to say, the car wasn’t designed for fast-food runs. It was built for speed, and I made it back in time to save the folks at McLaren from a heart attack.