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People often ask me: Which car would you buy if money weren’t an object?
Then I’ll ask for clarification: Is this the only car I could own? Would I take it on the track? Does it need a backseat? Convertible? How comfortable? And then, usually: Wait, where are you going?
It’s not my favourite question. Still, I understand why someone asks it. I think they’re waiting to hear about a car that they’ve never really encountered.
They want to hear about something singular, special, out of this world. They want to hear about what it’s like to experience mind-bendingly fast acceleration with the roof down—alas, people want it to be a convertible—and how awesome it is to throttle through tunnels and have your eardrums practically explode.
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Ask me this today and I will tell you it is the McLaren 570S Spider that I lust after. I like that the British company designs only two-seater sports cars with no intention of making crossovers. I like that, as Silicon Valley’s Russ Hanneman puts it, the car has the doors of a billionaire—they flip up.
Really, this should be a prerequisite for all truly special cars. I like that it has stuck with analogue, electrohydraulic steering, as opposed to the numb, electronically assisted steering of nearly every other car out there. I like how that steering talks to you, tells you about little dips and imperfections in the road that you would have never known were there otherwise. It’s a car that makes you feel truly one with the asphalt, despite the fact that it looks like it was designed by aliens.
I like that when people see the car, they say, “It looks like it was designed by aliens.” I like that it makes me feel like I’m driving technology pillaged from Area 51. I like that it’s not the mystique of McLaren I’m attracted to—as a relatively new company, it has virtually none—but rather the visceral, spirited thrills that the 570S Spider delivers.
I like that it’s weird. Original. Out-there.
Take me to your leader.