Love it or hate it, the Lotus Evija is wild. This is how we should think about it. Lotus is committed to doing something different on a mind-boggling scale. Not because it’s easy, but because it’s difficult. Whether it is ultimately a sales success or not is almost irrelevant: Lotus and its new owners clearly feel that they must make an all-powerful impression when they re-enter the supercar segment. In addition to all other considerations, Evija should do just that.
It is hardly unique in this ambition. The annals of automotive history are full of examples of manufacturers temporarily breaking away from a traditional business plan. This is one of the things that is keeping the industry from stagnating or bowing to the level of personal mobility providers: every now and then, an automaker chooses to neglect the rulebook or profit margins or buyer expectation or even historical legacy. They set out to build something special. And mostly they succeed in this striving, if only little else.
The first word on the Evija is that its manufacturer played a blind man and built a new car that would have been completely outside of his comfort zone a decade ago – and yet one that has apparently thrown overboard all facets that people believe in attract the brand in the world first place. Of course, it’s too early to say how far this initial achievement could go, but based on the prototype, we decided to pay tribute to a triumvirate of other Moonshot competitors. each the result of projects that aim to be different or first or groundbreaking.
The LFA is perhaps the epitome of fences. Unlike the McLaren F1 or the Bugatti Veyron or a number of other similarly exotic supercars, it was not built by a company used to low volume, high performance models. Toyota may have set the benchmark in the 20th century when it came to making 14-meter sedans with machine precision, but it knew little about the business of hand-building V10-powered two-seaters at the rate of 20 per month.
That was the point, of course. Akio Toyoda carefully assessed the LFA, which as a brand manufacturer is necessary for the young luxury car division – or this is how it is often presented these days. Given Toyoda’s impressively anarchic track record since then (not to mention the fact that Lexus has been in operation for a decade and has already produced a perfectly good flag swinger in the LS 400), it’s also possible that in getting the key to becoming the largest automaker, the World He simply spotted the opportunity to create his most extravagant model ever.
The story of its creation is rightly legendary. The LFA took nearly ten years to go into production as Toyota (or Toyoda) kept moving the goal posts to make them harder to hit. Deliberately, certainly in terms of architecture and engine, it became a willful pursuit of perfection – probably of the kind that only a manufacturer of Toyota’s scales could hope for over such a long period of time. The resulting 4.8-liter, 560-horsepower V10 supercar was, in fact, imperfect, and hasn’t been around for that long. But its scarcity and craziness only helped add to its mystique. Here is one with 3km on the clock, a prime example of only 198 right-hand drive cars. For £ 574,995. NC
For a long time it was clear which cars AMG was making: bruises. It didn’t matter whether it was sedans, goods, coupes or convertibles, they were heavyweights. Big cars, big engines, big people. When AMG was to tackle a separate project of its own from Mercedes-Benz, more of it was expected. Except that it didn’t quite turn out that way …
The SLS was a radical departure for AMG. Of course, a V8 was left, even though the M156 was drained like a real sports car. There was a dual-clutch transmission in place of a lazy old torque converter, a curb weight that only nudged over 1,500kg (instead of happily walking past it), and a front-mid layout that meant a giant V8 wasn’t that far ahead pushing the three-pronged one Star from the grid. The SLS couldn’t have been un-AMG any more if it had been a diesel hybrid MPV – luckily the Super Light Sport came out at the other end of the spectrum. The really, really good one.
All SLS were epic, but one stood head, shoulders and gull-wing doors above the other: the Black Series. After a below-average SLK, then the fabulous CLK, then the headstrong SL, nobody was sure what to expect from the SLS BS. What came out of it was sensational. The 6.2-liter V8 was further overhauled (received the new designation “M159”), developed more than 630 hp and turned at 8,000 rpm. Eight thousand in an AMG! They were unknown and it was a real turning point for the manufacturer – just 10 years later there is nothing we don’t expect from the division. And thanks to the SLS, you can usually rely on them to be darn good too. This incredibly rare right hand drive Black has only driven 5,000 miles since it was launched – it certainly won’t take the next owner eight years to do the same. MB
I won’t be the only one who lost hours watching race footage from the famous BMW M1 Procar Championship. It only ran for two years from 1979, but with an all-star cast of Formula 1 drivers and, of course, one of the most dazzling straight-six soundtracks from the legendary M88 / 1 3.5, it has always been a recipe for motorsport Nirvana. Where the Evija impresses with its technology, the M1 lifts the hair with its aura.
To me, what really makes the M1 so amazing is that it came out of a Skunkworks project, which arguably makes it the exact opposite of Evija’s very public demonstration of a new direction. At least initially. The history of the M1 was far from secret when the tubular steel frame-based mid-engine wedge was released. It oozed fantastically from every panel – and also from the chassis, which was made in Turin by well-respected pipe maker Marchetti.
But it’s the voice of the naturally aspirated M88 / 1, developed by technical legend Paul Rosche, and the tight, angular body that leaves its mark. Of course, thanks to the nature of such cars, only those with very deep pockets can ever own one. The car you see here is a perfect example. With only 2,700 km on the clock, the price in Germany is 798,900 euros. That said, it’s almost safe to see the inside of a museum and not the orchestral action that marked the Procars as special. SS
Navigate leftNavigate to the right
1 /. 4th
The post Edge of the supercar envelope | Buy hard first appeared on monter-une-startup.
