CAR (UK)

The 300-mile test McLaren’s 720S Spider

300 miles of freezing Arizona wilderness – if McLaren’s new droptop 720S can work here, it can work anywhere

- Words Gavin Green Photograph­y Jamie Lipman

It is snowing in Arizona, and that surprises. I’ve always associated America’s sixth largest state (40 per cent bigger than Great Britain) with sunshine, deserts, John Wayne mesas, cacti, deep canyons and rich red rockfaces. But we’re here in the Tonto National Forest, a few hours’ drive north-east of Phoenix, and it looks and feels like a northern European forest in deep midwinter.

We’re in a new McLaren 720S Spider, one of the world’s fastest supercars – plus we have the roof down – and we’re snug and comfortabl­e. In some ways it’s as civilised and easy to drive as a big lazy luxury saloon. That surprises, too.

Snow blankets the ground, and the pine trees stretch far off to the horizon. There are black bears, cougars, coyotes and bobcats lurking out there, or so the locals tell us. ‘Though you needn’t worry about the bears. They’re hibernatin­g,’ says one man, helpfully.

It’s well below freezing – no wonder, we’re well over 7000ft high – and the 720S Spider’s clever carbonfibr­e roof is retracted snugly under its cover just above the V8 engine. There is nothing but grey wintry sky above. Photograph­er Jamie Lipman and I have the heater turned to the max, and we’re enjoying the car’s refinement and ride comfort. Dammit, supercars – especially seriously fast ones, such as the 720S Spider – just aren’t supposed to be this civilised.

And this new convertibl­e is one of the fastest supercars on the planet. It can accelerate to 62mph from rest in just 2.9 seconds. That’s only a tenth of a second slower than a P1 hypercar or a triple-the-money Senna. It can do 202mph al fresco – and 212 with roof raised. Its 0-124mph time of 7.9sec is just a second slower than the P1’s or Senna’s (and a smidgeon quicker than the more track-focused and harder-edged Ferrari 488 Pista Spider). Braking capability is also P1-like. Unlike nearly all other droptops, this car plays at the pinnacle of the premier performanc­e league. It’s a roadster that’s more about racing than romance.

We begin our journey outside Scottsdale, just east of Phoenix, near a place called Carefree. This is the Arizona I know: arid, rocky terrain, clear blue sky overhead. Saguaro cacti stud the landscape, prickly-skinned giants, their thick arms raised. Later as we head north-east we see the ubiquitous guns-and-ammo shops; no licence or permit necessary, no background checks, handgun or assault weapon, yes sir, just step this way. The friendly McLaren man warns us not to upset local drivers: ‘They may be armed.’

The 720S Spider comes as standard with carbon-ceramic brakes and variable drift control, though we’ll be unlikely to use either today on Arizona’s state trooper-patrolled roads. ‘Get caught at 100mph [less than half this car’s potential] and you’ll spend the night in jail,’ adds the nice McLaren man, further to dampen the fun. Ours is a Luxury spec model, which bumps the £237,000 starting price to £246,990, adding nappa leather upholstery and electric seats, plus trim changes and brightwork.

Add a few juicy options – including Aztec Gold paint (£4330) – and our car’s price swells to £316,540. This includes carbon trim trinkets, track telemetry and a glazed electrochr­omic roof (£7500), which switches between tint and transparen­t at the press of a button. McLaren has learnt many lessons from Ferrari in its short life as a supercar maker, none more useful to the bottom line than extravagan­tly priced options. You could buy a new 911 Carrera S and 488 Spider for that price… ⊲

It’s well below freezing, we’re over 7n0d00ft, and the 720S Spider’s carbon roof is stowed snugly above its V8

We find McLaren’s signature carbonfibr­e monocoque, similar to the 720S Coupe but with an additional rear carbon well for the retracted hardtop, and a revised carbon rail across the top of the windscreen. Unlike rival metal convertibl­es, no additional strengthen­ing is necessary to compensate for the loss of the roof. Strength and rigidity are apparently unchanged from the Coupe and are class best. Unsurprisi­ngly, it is the lightest car in class too, just 49kg more than the regular 720S (blame the heavier folding roof and tonneau). It’s also lighter than its predecesso­r (the 650S Spider), and lighter than any rival.

The 4.0-litre version of McLaren’s twin-turbo V8 is identical to the 720S Coupe’s, which means 720PS – thus the name – or 710bhp. That’s 50bhp more than a 488, and 80bhp more than the fastest Spyder version of the Lamborghin­i Huracan. Add the lighter weight (88kg less than the 488 Spider), and you can see where the McLaren gets its performanc­e edge. Transmissi­on and suspension are both 720S Coupe carryover. Performanc­e is near-identical to the Coupe: just 0.1sec slower to 124mph. Top speed, roof-up, is the same.

The main change over the Coupe is the retractabl­e hardtop roof, completely redesigned from the 650S Spider. It’s electrical­ly rather than hydraulica­lly driven and can be raised or lowered in just 11 seconds, the fastest in the class, while driving at up to 31mph. The carbon roof panel is one piece and gives the same silhouette and aerodynami­cs as the Coupe. It’s also quieter to operate than any previous McLaren Spider.

As with the 720S Coupe, it’s a striking car, designed by scientists more than stylists. McLarens are always engineerin­g-led. The discreet scoops and slats all aid aero or cooling, often both. Those big eye sockets, for instance, don’t just provide for a distinctiv­e face and house the headlamps. They help cool the charged air about to be ingested by the engine, and the seven-speed transmissi­on. ⊲

Does the style grab the emotions? You bet. Everywhere we go Arizonans gave the thumbs up. But it’s less graceful to my eyes than a 488, if every bit as sensationa­l – and all the more so with those upswinging doors, still unusual on a roadster.

Open the feather-light dihedral door and vault the big carbon sill and then settle in the snug, tight-fitting seat. You feel at one with the car instantly. Fiddle with the (too complicate­d) electric seat adjuster that’s part of Luxury spec – a lighter, manual adjuster is so much better on a lightweigh­t sportster – and the driving position is just so. The steering wheel and pedals are perfectly aligned, straight ahead of the driver, with none of the askew nonsense that still plagues some rivals. You also sit nearer the centreline than in most sports cars, though Jamie says he feels oddly too far from the door. Or more likely, too near me.

There is simply no better environmen­t for keen drivers. Visibility is excellent for a mid-engine car, roof up or down (we go topless after 50 miles or so, and the opening action is fast and silent). Thank the glassy canopy for the excellent visibility, new glazed flying buttresses and those pleasingly slim pillars. The carbon-and-leather steering wheel is lovely to feel and unsullied by switches and buttons. Steering wheels are to steer, not to adjust the suspension, turn on indicators or answer the telephone. (Ferrari and Porsche please take note.)

Cabin design is simple and uncluttere­d. Don’t distract the driver with fripperies and gimmicks. The new and much improved touchscree­n is still portrait shaped, the centre console is unusually narrow (to get the two seats nearer the middle) and there is a row of toggles and knobs, including for adjusting powertrain and suspension.

The twin-turbo V8 snarls into action, and the theatre begins: in front of you the main instrument binnacle, made from chunky carbonfibr­e, swivels into position. The binnacle looks like it’s come from an F1 car – in Track mode it’s a thin slither of carbon with just bar-graph tacho, plus digital speed readout and gear selected. Alonso must have looked at something similar last year. The default position is Comfort – it used to be called Normal on McLarens but, of course, there is nothing normal about driving a McLaren. In this mode (and Sport), the binnacle swivels to display a big central tacho – the engine can rev comfortabl­y past 8000rpm – with digital speed display, plus configurab­le outer displays.

Despite the noise and theatre and styling drama, and its performanc­e, the 720S Spider is astonishin­gly easy to drive. Good visibility, auto gearshifts (hit Active to select manual) and an amazingly compliant ride, thanks mostly to McLaren’s superb hydraulic suspension. The steering is beautifull­y weighted and precise. It’s electro-hydraulic. McLaren (rightly) feels fully electric systems remain insu›ciently feelsome.

On the main road to Payson – 5000ft high, renowned for rodeo, surrounded by forest – the big Mac quietly powers along, in Comfort, auto ’box self-selecting big gears and low revs. It’s only in such conditions that you notice turbo lag. Stab the throttle and the revs pause before the twin turbos energise and you surge forward on a tidal wave of torque and power. When the revs are high, and you demand action, you get it, instantly.

We head north-east, up to higher altitudes and colder climes, finding a twisting tra›c-free road through the snowy forest that allows the 720S to throw off the shackles. Choose Sport, then Track, and we’re in one of the world’s fastest and most thrilling supercars, the mid-range punch Mike Tyson-violent, the steering sharp and tactile and still finely weighted, and the handing agile and precise as the magic active hydraulic suspension flips from supple like a limo to taut like a racer.

Venturing back towards Phoenix and heading south, closer to sea level, the temperatur­e builds and the weather becomes Arizona-normal, sunny and mild on this fine winter’s day. We turn the heater temperatur­e down and are now warmed by the sun stroking our scalps and arms, rather than a blower toasting our toes.

And as we enjoy this finely engineered open-roof car, gliding gently through Scottsdale’s well-trimmed suburbs, we wonder: is there any other sports car that can do all this, with such joyful mix of speed, excitement, ease-of-driving, comfort and engineerin­g capability – plus that sensory sun-kissed delight of open-air driving? ⊲

The magic active hydraulic suspension flips from supple like a limo to taut like a racer

 ??  ??
 ??  ?? Exposure to elements equals connection to car
Exposure to elements equals connection to car
 ??  ?? Humbled, we gave up on the game ‘Who’s got the biggest V8?’
Humbled, we gave up on the game ‘Who’s got the biggest V8?’
 ??  ?? Carbon tub means Spider needs no heavy sti ening
Carbon tub means Spider needs no heavy sti ening
 ??  ?? Instrument­s pivot between Slim and Full Display at the press of a button
Instrument­s pivot between Slim and Full Display at the press of a button

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