The McLaren 675LT costs $400,000. The sticker says $396,820, which leaves $3,180 on the table. Just enough left over for several consultations with a top-notch chiropractor.
Owners will need those medical visits. And they’ll consider it four-hundred-grand well spent.
As I head over the lumpy streets of Manhattan on my way to a private racetrack in the Catskills, I have but one plan for this car: to thrash the hell out of it. That’s because the McLaren 675 “Longtail” — the basis of the “LT” in the name — isn’t built for cosseting. As a track-focused street car, the LT is meant to be driven hard, and it treats its driver and passenger thusly. This is not a ride for poseurs.
The coupe’s optional sport seats are hard buckets that mercilessly squeeze hips and have exactly zero electronic adjustments. They don’t even tilt. They’re meant to bolt you in, lumbar support and butt padding be damned. And the McLaren’s lack of creature comforts extends all the way to its feet: it wears Pirelli P-Zero Trofeo R tires, just about the slickest rubber you can legally drive on a public road. They are tricky in the wet and in any temperature short of California sunshine. This is not an all-weather vehicle.
All of this should warn away Miami fat cats looking for the latest glamour-mobile in which to win the battle of the valets. Only 500 examples will be sold worldwide, and I sincerely hope that none ever make it to Florida. There’s not a road in the entire state worthy of this car.
I uncork my spine in the pit lane of the Monticello Motor Club, two hours northwest of Manhattan, and then head out on the challenging 4.1-mile road course, warming up those nefarious tires and getting a feel for the 675LT’s can’t-drive-55 personality.
Source: The Verge