The Senna Esses provide a great test of the AMG’S body control and agility
There’s both ferocity and culture intertwined in the note, even if it doesn’t have the aural crispness of an atmo or supercharged engine. Still, it seems churlish to single that out, and to focus on that leaves less brain processing power to deal with the rest of the package, which is just over two tonnes moving at indecent speed. AMG claims 0-100km/h in 3.2sec, which sounds credible, given that we’ve recorded 3.3sec and 0-400m in 11.3sec from an E63 S. Down the back straight, the digital speedo flicks past 270km/h before a big stomp of the optional carbonceramic brakes hauls it down with rock-solid stability. Autobahn Vmax is 315km/h.
So far, so awesome, but also in line with expectation. What I wasn’t counting on was the level of steering connection and confidence this car provides. I’ve always found the GT coupes and convertibles a little aloof and detached in this area, despite the fact they run a hydraulic steering rack aimed to optimise these very attributes. The GT 4-Door runs an electro-assist system, yet it instantly feels ultra-connected to the pointy end, with a chunky weighting and crisp response. Maybe the less cab-rearward design also contributes to the four-door’s sense of cohesion and control; whatever it is, it makes it instinctive in terms finding the limit of front-end grip and managing the onset of understeer in the tight turns.
That initial front-end push is unavoidable on a track in a car of this size and weight, but the sense of agility and keenness of turn-in is helped by the fact there’s fourwheel steering (as fitted to the GT C and GT R) helping those vast rears pivot the back end. As for actually deploying all that grunt in the exit phase, the GT 4 is a beast. The constantly variable all-wheeldrive system only gives the fronts what they can use, so the overall balance of the car feels properly rear-driven, the way it should in an AMG. As I start getting harder and earlier on the power in an effort to stay on Schneider’s tail, the rear starts lighting up and progressively stepping out, just as he promised, with no apparent retardation of spark. It’s all telegraphed with utter transparency.
The Senna Esses complex at Cota, into which the F1 boys pile at a scarcely believable 280km/h, is a great test of the GT 4’s body control and agility. In terms of the former, it’s not absolute; there is a small lateral shrug of suspension compression as the Michelins bite, in line with what you’d expect of a super sedan expected to operate in the real world. But it’s this bit of compliance, even in the stiffest chassis setting, that also allows the car to absorb the saw-tooth kerbs, as opposed to crashing over them.
Later, away from the circuit, up in the hills above Austin where Texan super-juicer Lance Armstrong still cycles, the full breadth of AMG’S achievement becomes clear. In its most benign setting, the suspension has just
enough travel to breathe with the road, and even sharp edges don’t clang through the body the way they have in previous AMG cars. The nine-speed transmission is expertly calibrated for road driving, slipping quickly through the ratios to make full use of the huge torque reserve and restrain engine sound and fuel consumption, if that’s what your mood demands. Equally, each adjustable parameter is ever-ready to unleash hell when the opportunity presents itself. I found myself unable to extract everything the car can give in these conditions, purely out of deference for the blind corners and occasional Armstrong impersonator. But even at seventenths, there’s real satisfaction to be had, because everything about this car feels to be meshing so cohesively – steering feel, power delivery, braking strength, body control, bump absorption, engine note; I could go on.
On reflection, maybe Bernd Schneider wasn’t the only master out on the circuit earlier. You could easily argue there was a group of them, all with those AMG letters on their rumps.