NAPLESILLUSTRATED.COM | DECEMBER 2018 57
twin-turbo V-8 as it ignites, hit drive, and
ease away.
Instantly you become aware of the
car’s incredible lightness; at around
3,000 pounds, there are supermodels
who weigh more. With every squeeze
of the throttle, the car surges forward
like a greyhound from a trap.
Turn onto the Pacific Coast High-
way, and as soon as you leave Carmel’s
beachfront suburbs, the road opens
into an arrow-straight stretch. Pull back
on the paddle shifter, floor the gas, and savor the tumultuous forward
thrust. This is thrust that can lunge you from standstill to 60 mph in 3
seconds flat, and on to a top speed of 204 mph. Thrust that can knock
the air out of your lungs.
And oh, the noise. It’s not obnoxiously loud like a Lamborghini. No,
this is a deep, urgent, intense howl made even more intoxicating by
having the top down and windows open.
The first series of curves will have you grinning like a hyena as you dis-
cover the sheer brilliance of the McLaren’s steering, which is old-school
hydraulic-assist rather than modern-day electric. But the level of feedback,
perfect weighting, and astonishing ac-
curacy are the car’s greatest attributes.
As PCH snakes southward, cling-
ing to the cliff-face, soaring and
diving like an asphalt Space Mountain, the 570S transcends into this
magical machine that knows nothing of understeer or oversteer—just
grip and precision, poise and balance.
There’s true go-kart agility here. Through one demonic set of
pinch-tight turns—approached at speeds way above my skill set—the
McLaren never flinches, firing through as if running on invisible rails.
We arrive at Nepenthe, a legendary cliff-top coffee shop, out of breath
from adrenaline. I feel as if I’ve driven something that redefines the term
“sports car” and moves the road-car handling needle off the chart. Per-
haps I’ll skip the caffeine. No supplementary stimulants needed here. «l FOLLOW HOWARD WALKER’S
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