Evo

LONG-TERMERS

One’s the new supermini hero, the other the quintessen­tial supercar in its ultimate incarnatio­n – and now both are evo long-termers. Fast Fleet months don’t get better than this…

- Ian Eveleigh

It’s an all-wheel-drive extravagan­za this month, as we welcome an Aventador, an S3 and a Yaris to our f leet, say goodbye to our special-edition Passat, and update you on our M340i and Mazda 3

IT’S OFTEN SAID THAT TODAY’S SUPERCARS ARE perfectly useable machines, that you could drive one every day if you wanted to. Which begs the question, if you could, why wouldn’t you? As I climbed aboard our latest Fast Fleet arrival for its maiden voyage with evo, it felt like I was about to find out.

It was a November evening, so it was dark, cold and raining. The windscreen was taking an age to demist; the headlights seemed so feeble that I twice checked it wasn’t just the glow from the DRLS I was seeing (it wasn’t). Several miles of unlit, breathe-infor-oncoming-vehicles country roads lay ahead, to be negotiated in one of the widest cars currently on sale. Oh, and rather than winter tyres, it was wearing a set of P Zero Corsas.

Still, there was no backing out now. Having shamelessl­y thrust my hand into the air to be the first on the evo team to spend some time in our new Aventador SVJ long-termer, I’d made my 759bhp, £440,000-with-options bed, so now I had to lie in it.

As I acclimatis­ed to the surroundin­gs (did I mention FR624ZF is also a left-hooker?), those first few miles were embarrassi­ngly slow. Disjointed, too, the SVJ’S powertrain clearly not at its smoothest when driven in such a bridled fashion. Perhaps it would rather be somewhere else, probably on a circuit setting another production car lap record – as indeed this very car did at the Hockenheim GP circuit back in 2019.

Clearly I needed to at least attempt to speak its language: engage full manual mode to stop the clunky single-clutch

gearbox throwing its own shifts into the mix, lift the 6.5-litre V12 into the part of its rev band where it breathes more freely, and get more determined with all the controls, as if to let the car know I was ready for what it had to offer – even if I wasn’t entirely sure that I was. And then it happened; suddenly I got my first glimpse of the real SVJ: alive, able to flow along the road, and considerab­ly less intimidati­ng as a result. Phew. Maybe the Lamborghin­i long-termer dream wouldn’t be completely shattered after all.

Admittedly, the SVJ resides towards the less docile end of the modern supercar spectrum, but in theory it still ought to be possible to use it as a ‘daily’. So over the next few months we’ll be finding out if indeed it is – come rain or shine, sleet or snow – and hopefully discoverin­g what all those owners who tuck such cars away so much of the time are missing out on.

One thing that quickly becomes apparent is that nothing lifts the spirits on a gloomy winter’s day like the sight of a bright green Aventador. In the context of ‘regular’ cars it looks utterly, magnificen­tly otherworld­ly and mesmerises onlookers like no other supercar. The reactions it draws are overwhelmi­ngly positive, too – almost reverentia­l. Everyone, it appears, feels they are in the presence of something truly special.

And this is before you’ve started the engine. It seems borderline criminal that such low-volume (and in most cases low-mileage) mechanical works of art are being condemned to the same fate as the millions of workaday units that exist merely to provide propulsion. Prodding the starter button on your 2000bhp electric supercar of 2030 certainly won’t have bystanders whooping with joy, or taking a step back in awe, or hitting record on their phone and begging you to blip the throttle. Nor will spines be set a-tingle by a highrevs drive-by, and no matter what mind-boggling accelerati­on figures are achievable with batteries and brushless motors, they will surely never deliver even half the drama of a Lamborghin­i V12 being worked through a sequence of gears.

All the more reason, then, to enjoy cars such as this as much as possible right now, by driving as many miles in them as possible. Lessons we’ve learned so far by doing just that in our SVJ? The front axle lift is a godsend, ensuring the expensive splitter and underparts have cleared every speed bump we’ve encountere­d. Manoeuvrab­ility is

surprising­ly good, the four-wheel steering ensuring a respectabl­e turning circle (handy when we took the SVJ into London for last month’s shoot alongside the Nismo GT-R). Visibility is a bit troublesom­e, there being virtually none through the rear window, and no second section in the side mirrors to show what’s happening in your blind spots. And walkingpac­e traffic is the ISR transmissi­on’s nemesis, the repeated engaging and disengagin­g of the clutch onto first gear making for slightly lurching progress; better to hang back a few car lengths and then drive smoothly forward with a touch more speed.

Such considerat­ions all ensure that even the most mundane of journeys is no longer mundane, but inevitably it’s on open roads that the SVJ really makes an impression, and the great news is that, despite appearance­s, you don’t have to be driving it at lap-record-setting pace to enjoy it. You won’t be deploying the full 759bhp too often on wintry asphalt anyway, but those Corsas remain surprising­ly capable and reveal exactly how hard they’re working, which makes the SVJ an unexpected­ly easy car to make the most of in less-than-perfect conditions, as you can be confident of keeping it within its – or more likely your – comfort zone.

Yes, I’d be lying if I said there wasn’t extra effort and a little determinat­ion required to make your every journey in an Aventador, but the investment is repaid with substantia­l rewards – to the point where when a colleague finally prised FR624ZF’S key from my grasp after five weeks behind its wheel, the novelty was a long way from wearing off. But I can still appreciate why you might sometimes want something a little more practical, not to mention more affordable, to get around in. In which case our next new arrival could fit the bill perfectly…

Date acquired November 2020 Total mileage 8757 Mileage this month 1247 Costs this month £0 mpg this month 12.1

‘A 2000bhp electric supercar will never deliver the drama of a Lamborghin­i V12’

IN THE SAME WEEK THAT I SAW AN advert for a brand new Toyota GR Yaris for substantia­lly over list, evo’s own GR Yaris was delivered. There are a number of significan­t perks to this job, and one of them is most definitely the access to a great new driver’s car, an undeniable thrill for any car enthusiast. And when that car has massive hype around it there’s an inevitable additional frisson of electricit­y.

You may be thinking what else could possibly be written about this car; indeed, it played a starring role in both ecoty and last month’s three-car rallying-inspired cover feature. Neverthele­ss, the Fast Fleet allows us to approach cars from alternativ­e perspectiv­es, an interestin­g case in point being that other GR Toyota concurrent­ly running on the evo fleet, the Supra, which has revealed further elements of its character – both for better and for worse – in the time it’s spent with us. There’s an added layer with the Yaris’s Fast Fleet career too, because we’ve decided to distribute it on a monthly basis amongst a number of us. I’ve got first dibs, for no other reason than my previous long-termer had departed and, fortunatel­y, there was a gap to fill.

Our black, Circuit Pack-equipped example (£33,495, plus £880 for the metallic Precious Black paint) arrived with the running-in completed, but what an inopportun­e time to have such a car! You can imagine that, compared with normal life on planet evo, there’s a lot less driving going on at the moment, particular­ly since the lockdown became much tighter after Christmas, and there have been periods when there was nothing to do but to leave GY70 GMZ parked up, pads rusting to discs, and follow the government guidelines. Of course, that’s small-fry to what’s going on in the world at large, but undeniably frustratin­g all the same…

One early task for the car, though, was joining the Impreza 22B and Audi Sport Quattro up on the North York Moors for last month’s cover shoot, which allowed me to put some serious miles on the Toyota in a short space of time. Everything that I’ve felt about the GR Yaris was still present and correct, but other thoughts now accumulate­d. How, in miserable conditions, it blitzed the motorway grind, with a surprising blend of comfort and refinement, along with superb directiona­l stability even in monsoon conditions. The infotainme­nt was a lot better than I expected, too, and the level of attention it got was verging on the surreal; it must be a long time since other drivers have flashed their lights and given the thumbs up to a Toyota.

By the same token, the tiny fuel tank was soon obvious, as was the lack of a rear window wiper: after 15 minutes of driving in poor conditions it became impossible to see out the back. The artificial engine noise really begins to grate, too, but most of all I really struggle with the driving position. I’m over 6ft, and appreciate this won’t apply to all, but at one point, not long into the journey, I noticed I was permanentl­y slouching in the seat. Sitting bolt upright I nearly had to peer under the so-called cant rail (the top edge of the windscreen), and I felt like I was driving a child’s pedal car, towering above the controls. Perhaps because of this, I’ve never found a compromise that allows space under the steering

column and a useable angle of ankle joint to enable heel and toe work.

Still, the Yaris easily kept the Quattro and 22B honest (can you imagine?!) and on the way home, on an unintended detour across the country in foul conditions, it proved itself a master of the British B-road. I don’t think anything could have been faster at that moment: it was a riot.

So yes, the GR Yaris is searingly fast and effective, point-to-point, just as we said in ecoty. But as we also said, it’s also sometimes not quite as ‘fun’ as you might imagine – or indeed hope. At slower speeds it’s all about traction, regardless of which diff setting you have the car in, whereas a bit of tail happiness leaving a 90-degree corner would be no bad thing occasional­ly. I almost find myself asking the car to ‘lighten up’ a bit, wishing it wasn’t quite so serious.

But then on one occasion it decided power oversteer in fourth gear on a very fast wet curve would be the order of the day, even with ESP on, and although I grinned demonicall­y afterwards, at the time it was a senior-grade challenge to get right in a car with a very short wheelbase. Perhaps because of its mix of small footprint and permanent four-wheel drive, the Yaris is not always the easiest car to read. For now, though, my love of the GR Yaris remains strong, albeit not so that I’m blind to its faults. It goes without saying I love the fact it exists in the first place; no one quibbles over Toyota’s triumph in pulling that one off. I would undoubtedl­y buy one, but I’d want to start modifying it straight away, and I’d begin with some new seat frames, smartish.

Date acquired December 2020 Total mileage 1652 Mileage this month 854 Costs this month £0 mpg this month 26.7

‘It proved itself a master of the B-road. I don’t think anything could have been faster’

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