Owner Review: Speciale vs. Mclaren

As long as I can remember, I’ve been on an idiopathic quest to find the ultimate sports car. Having been a devoted gearhead since long before I had the money to do anything but read magazines and build model cars, it’s taken years for me to arrive at my own eccentric formula of what it takes to make a truly car great. With each new experience, I fancy that I’ve honed that formula to a progressively keener edge. It all started when I scraped together everything I owned to buy a first generation VW GTI, back in the early ‘80s. My descent into automotive madness has only become more profound since then.

Many a car has come and gone since that first GTI, and now I find myself in a conundrum; trying to draw some intelligent and relevant comparisons between my 2015 Mclaren 650S Coupe, my 2015 Ferrari Speciale, and the somewhat surprising appearance in my garage of a lovely 2016 Chicane Gray 675LT. Within the first half hour of driving each car, it became clear to me that this would be a comparison that would challenge my conventional framework of which car was “best”. Allow me first to digress into the standard disclaimer. I don’t have any motives in posting this besides a desire to share my observations, which are quite likely to be wrong. If you disagree with my comments, feel free to reject them entirely and never consider them as anything more than the daft ramblings of a goof-ball amateur. Perhaps I’m a pimply-faced poseur writing this from middle school study hall. The anonymity of the Interweb is, after all, the great equalizer. I also posted this on the Mclaren site several weeks ago.

Engine and Power Delivery

Let’s get this out of the way first: the 650S accelerates harder than the Speciale, and the 675LT accelerates harder than the 650S. When it comes to good old-fashioned Newtonian physics, the mighty LT feels like it will slap the soup out of just about every other car on the road. I’m not sure why, but the LT feels like it has gobs more power and boost than the 650S, far beyond the small bump in HP claimed in the specs. If you find yourself sitting next to a 675LT at a red light, I recommend that you avoid eye contact and turn right. Unless you are in a P1 or a 918, that is.

This brings up a very important point, however. Does being “faster” (by that I mean acceleration measured in straight line) make a car better? If you want to answer this question, consider that the morbidly obese, battery-powered Tesla will out-sprint virtually every car on the road to 60 mph, including most exotics. Would you call it a sports car? Hardly. Its ludicrous acceleration grows old quickly as it runs out of steam, only to plow its front tires through the first real corner you encounter.

Acceleration is just one element of sports-car greatness, and at a certain point, it becomes so outrageous that it ceases serving as a measure of distinction. I defy anyone to discern a run from 0-60 in 2.8 seconds vs. 2.9 seconds. Both experiences induce nausea. I liken acceleration in an exotic to maximum volume on an esoteric, high end sound system; sure you can turn it up until your ears bleed , but do you want to? And because one system will make your ears bleed sooner or more profusely than the other, does that make it more enjoyable to listen to at normal volumes? Think about that for a minute.

I would suggest that big power is one thing, but the manner in which that power is delivered, including throttle response, torque delivery, and flexibility are what truly define a great sports car engine.

Obviously, the Mclarens and the Ferrari deliver power in very different ways. The Ferrari has all of the violent immediacy of a high horsepower, high compression, naturally aspirated V-8. A tiny prod of the throttle at any RPM results in a delightful surge. This experience is magnified by the Speciale’s short-travel throttle and ultra low gear ratios. The Ferrari is a snarling, immediate adrenaline rush, and it always feels like it’s chomping at the bit to give you more. It revs like a banshee, and the engine is churning like it’s on crack at highway speeds. What a thrill ride it is, and when driven in isolation, it delivers everything a car guy could want as far as grunt is concerned. If a fellow could only own one car for the rest of his life, this might be the one. You’d never be bored with it.

However, when I step straight out of the Speciale and into the 650S, I immediately notice a significant increase in both the thrust of the Mclaren and the deep well of power that is on tap as the tach sweeps toward redline. The Speciale almost feels flat by comparison. Moreover, the Mclaren does not have to resort to granny-gearing to achieve its mojo. However, despite massive advances in bringing the boost in early, the 650S still feels like a turbo car, albeit a very advanced turbo car. If you want the big thrill, you need to be in the right gear and rev range, especially when coming out of a corner. The power swells almost immediately, but you still feel that miniscule soft spot in thrust if you aren’t vigilant with the gear choice. The Speciale suffers no such hesitancy. Rest assured, however that when Mr. Boost says hello, you better be pointed in the right direction. Some people love the feel of a turbo car, some hate it. I, for one, think turbo cars feel more powerful than their NA counterparts, simply because of the torrent of oomph that builds like a Herb Alpert Big Brass crescendo.

Which brings me to the 675. Mclaren seems to have invented a whole new category of turbo butt whoopin’ in the case of the LT. The very faint lag of the 650S has been eradicated, and in its place is instantaneous, chest compressing madness. If you want to take a passenger for an acceleration experience they will never forget, the 675LT is your huckleberry. Heck, the sound of the turbo whine alone will make the hair stand up on your arms. You may wet yourself when you hear it’s evil backfire between shifts. While the Speciale has been appropriately praised for its charisma and Italian drama, there's a new kid in town, and this time its from County Surrey, of all places. This car never ceases to make me holler out loud after a particularly hard boost session. Interestingly, when I step straight out of the LT and into the 650S, the 650S feels…well, slow. It is astounding how responsive and immediate the boost is. The difference between the two cars is shocking, plain and simple.

One oddity of the Mclaren is the loooong throw of its throttle. Maybe Woking does this to keep people from killing themselves. To floor a Mclaren, you have to do so with intention. There are times when I boost away from a red light with authority, only to realize that I was using half of the throttle’s available travel. As I marvel at how tiny the cars in my rearview have become in less than a block, I wonder what would happen if I floored it every time. I think I’d get tired of the neck fatigue, and my rear tires would be worn to the threads within a week.

Fast, as in High Speed

So we’ve talked about acceleration as one definition of fast, now let us pause for a moment and take a different approach: high speed handling and stability. As anyone who has endured a conversation with me will testify, I am never hesitant to brag about the fact that I have joined the independently certified 200 mph club, on at least 5 separate occasions. I therefore feel that I am superior to my fellow enthusiasts. Having said this, the hands down champion of high speed sticktion has to be the Ford GT. Talk about drama free! The GT would hit 200 like it was child’s play. My Whippled car did 210.1 and it had plenty more to give. I don’t think I’ve ever driven a car to compare, but I’ve certainly driven a bunch that became scary at 150.

I took my factory stock 650S to the Mojave event last year, and I busted off a run of 201.5, which made me the class winner. I got a plaque. It’s on my office wall so my clients will ask me about it. It was basically a drama free pursuit, but the 650S was not nearly as glued to the tarmac as the GT. Having been to a few Mojave events, its very, very rare for a showroom stock exotic to hit a certified 200. The fact that the 650S did it straight out of the box is something special indeed. Deeds, not words, boys. (By the way, the speedo indicated something like 211, but the laser speed traps don’t lie).

Several days ago, I had the LT out and gave it the beans for a few seconds. When I looked down at the speedo, it was telling me I was going 150. I paused for a moment at that speed to drink it in. The LT was pinned down at that speed, and the first thought that came to mind was “This reminds me of the GT.” It felt magnificent. Because the LT has about 40% more down force than the 650S, I suppose it makes sense. Will it hit 200 in a mile and a half? Stay tuned, because I’ma gonna find out in April.

As for the Ferrari, the Speciale has a bit of active aero on it, but it feels somewhat similar to the 458 at speed. That is to say, it feels stable, but not remarkably so. Not much else to say, but I’d like to see what it would do, wide open. Based on what I know after owning several 458s and observing them at Mojave, I think it would probably hit the 190s, but I don’t have any evidence to prove that.

Transmission

I am a devoted manual transmission man. Alas, both the Mclarens and the Ferrari have dual-clutch, manu-matic transmissions. I’ve owned various cars with this system, and since the first one (a 2007 Ferrari F430) I’ve made it a religion to NEVER drive them in auto mode, even if I’m moving them from one garage space to another. I do this simply because I have a morbid fear of buying an exotic and lapsing into driving it like a Buick. Thus, I have become a bit of a connoisseur of manually shifted dual clutch transmissions. Not all are created equal. In some cars, there is a noticeable delay between the time the paddle is actuated and the physical shift. I don’t like this. It feels like an Oldsmobile slush box. The worst example of this was the first SLS I owned. I have been irritated by this in virtually every one of the paddle-shifted cars I have owned, including the 12C, and to a lesser degree, the 650S.

Several months ago, I had the chance to drive a new Porsche GT3. I was particularly interested in testing the PDK, since I had heard glowing reviews. I walked away deeply impressed, and felt like I had, at last, experienced a paddle shift the way it should be; immediate, regardless of speed, gear, or throttle position. I suddenly became infatuated with the idea of buying yet another Porsche.

The Speciale arrived shortly after that test drive, and to my immense relief, it cracked off the shifts with the same alacrity of the PDK that had so impressed me. I was completely satisfied. Transmission Nirvana had finally been achieved.

I had read accounts stating that with the transmission in the LT, Mclaren had joined the party. This was of huge importance to me. On my first test drive in the LT (which occurred only after I had committed to buy the car) I was keenly focused on the shift action. Wow. It was immediate and deliciously responsive to every input. It is the equal of the Speciale, but much smoother in action. The Speciale seems to belt the shifts home in an exaggerated, lurch way. Frankly, I find the Getrag to be a drama queen and unnecessarily violent when driven in anger. Ferrari could dial this back without diminishing the experience. One thing I really love about the Ferrari’s transmission is that I can select neutral, at any speed, by pulling both paddles toward me simultaneously. This is useful when approaching red lights; one can simply pop into neutral like a true manual, and coast up to the light without feeling the car surge through every downshift.

Handling

From the first time you dive into a corner behind the wheel of the Speciale, you sense that this car is something, well…special. I don’t think I’ve ever driven a car that seemed so immediately disposed to attack, nay, to devour, a corner. Even in somewhat tame street juking, it feels magically responsive to steering input. Of course, this may be a product of steering ratio and alignment, but it feels more keenly honed than the 650S. As Jack Burton said, “it’s all in the reflexes” and those of the Speciale are hair-triggered. It really is a thrill ride, and the more aggressively you drive it, the more rewarding it becomes. I have not driven the Speciale on the track, but I have driven its lesser brother, the 458. I can tell that the Speciale would be dynamite with a short fuse in that controlled environment. Lucky
is the man that gets to spend track time in the Speciale.

The 650S is not quite as edgy as the Ferrari with regard to driver input, but it is by no means slow-witted. It simply feels more rational, and certainly more comfortable, for use as a street car. I am a big fan of the hydraulic anti-roll chassis of the Mclaren Super Series, and while the 650S may not feel as tossable as the Ferrari, it rewards the driver with amazingly flat cornering at speeds easily double what you would attempt in a lesser car. Moreover, the billet-rigid carbon chassis of the Mclaren allows the four corners of the car to work in perfect isolation and geometric uniformity. I simply love the way it feels on imperfect pavement.

My favorite environment in which to really enjoy a great sports car is on a twisty, banked canyon road. If I had to choose between the Speciale and the 650S for this drive, I’d be tempted to choose the Ferrari because it simply wants to attack every corner, and it begs to be driven harder and harder. However, I’d pause for a moment as I considered one critical point: outward visibility. Back in the 90’s, during my first infatuation with Honda’s Magnum Opus (also known as the fixed-roof NSX), I became spoiled by the absolute confidence I felt perched in its perfect cockpit. A few canyon drives in the NSX made all other cars feel cave-like and claustrophobic by comparison. You don’t so much drive an NSX as you wear it. The only car I’ve owned that has replicated the feeling of the NSX is the Mclaren. (Honorable mention goes to all of the various 911s I’ve owned. In fact, the only real beef I ever had with the Ford GT is that the outward view was mildly compromised). As between the Mclaren and the Speciale, the Mclaren is clearly superior in this regard. I will note, however, that after I elevated the Ferrari seating position (which requires partial disassembly of the seat) I felt lots more comfortable.

With the 675, Mclaren has sharpened all of the 650S’s responses, and the effect is to match the Ferrari’s enthusiasm for cornering, punch for punch. The Ferrari feels like a heavier, more distant car in comparison to the intimate LT. Some of compliance of the 650 as been dialed back, although the ride is still more composed than that of the Ferrari. The road noise and sound of the rocks pinging in the wheel wells makes the LT seem less refined than the 650S, but also gives it a deadly seriousness that is consistent with personality of the car. While I am surprised to say so, the LT actually feels like more of a scalpel than the Ferrari in the canyon, and this may be a combination of its superior outward visibility, quickened steering, and revised suspension components and geometry. It’s light on its feet, nimble, and I feel invincible, even with a rock wall at my right shoulder and nothing but blue sky and death on the left. I’m told the LT enjoys a few parts from the P1 bin, and it may be my imagination but on a quiet evening I swear I can hear the sound of the Nurburgring when I put my ear near the wheel assembly.

Ergonomics

The Mclaren Super Series feels much smaller around you than the Ferrari, and most of this is because of the volume of the interior. The Ferrari’s is open, angular, and huge. The speedometer is lodged in the bowels of a deep, dark tunnel. It looks like it’s about five feet away from the driver. By comparison, the simple instrument cluster of the Mclaren looks like it could sit comfortably between the handlebars of a street bike. The Mclaren feels like a cocoon compared to the Ferrari. Some of this has to do with the center console of the Mclaren, which plunges down to the console from the low, low dash. It serves to separate the driver and passenger compartments, and feels quite similar to the interior of the diminutive NSX. The Ferrari has no console connecting the high, geometric dash to the floor, and the footboxes are gigantic by comparison. The cowl of the Ferrari is higher and the outward visibility is accordingly diminished.

Creature Comforts

Okay, Ferrari owners, let’s be honest: Some features on these cars are gimmicky and eccentric. Ferrari calls the confusing cruise control “pit speed” and I defy even a software engineer to figure out how to use the most basic electronic functions like navigation or the satellite radio. However, I love the wheel-mounted directional signals and think they should become mandatory on all cars. It makes so much more sense to keep your hands on the wheel when preparing to make a turn. The stereo on the Ferrari is worthy of a toilet. The Meridian sound system of the Mclaren is better. I don’t recommend either. The Meridian sounds okay when the car is stationary and the engine is turned off. The Ferrari sounds crappy regardless. It’s pretty clear you don’t buy either car for their sound systems. I have a NAIM system in my Mulsanne that I can listen to when I want perfection. In the McLaren and the Ferrari, the sound system consists of eight cylinders perched a couple of feet behind my melon.

The IRIS system of the Mclaren seems to draw lots of criticism from owners. I’m either dumb, lucky, or both, but I’ve never had trouble with mine and it has worked flawlessly. The doors on the Mclaren are cooler than the Ferraris, but they are also harder to shut and the window seals can be problematic. I got the soft-close option on the LT and I have now forgiven Mclaren for everything.

Fit and Finish

I could discern no significant difference between the build quality of either car. However, the paint finish on the Mclaren is superior, and the color match on the front bumper is better. I’ve visited both factories several times, and studied the assembly lines to the extent I was able. The Mclaren appears to be simpler, more elegant and more obsessively engineered package than Ferrari. The Ferrari has a more conventional, mass produced feel than the Mclaren does. Using the watch analogy, if the Ferrari is the Rolex, then the Mclaren is the Breguet.


Styling and Appearance

I recognize that this is a very subjective discussion, but I have to say that the Speciale Coupe is by far the best looking of the 458 models. The deep relief of the vents in the hood correct the shovel-nose appearance of the standard car, and the duck tail spoiler on the rear deck is super cool. The stance of the car is just right, and it looks the business from virtually all angles. It’s the most beautiful of the modern Ferraris, if you ask me. Sorry, but I find LaFerrari to be LaHomely.

I think the LT Coupe is the most attractive of the Super Series. The shape of the front bumper as it angles back against itself and then zags out again into the pronounced chin spoiler, the surface detail of the rear clip, the low intakes forward of the rear tires, and the massive tail wing transform the car when compared to the 12C, upon which it is fundamentally based. The car sits lower on its haunches than the 650S, and the stove-pipe, blue-tinged exhaust bezels that jut defiantly out of the rear look like they came right off a GT3 car.

One of my favorite things to do when it comes to sizing up a car’s road presence is to enlist the help of a friend and follow along in another car as said friend drives. When doing so, one gets a view of a car that simply cannot be found in a static environment. The size and shape of the wheels is more pronounced as they blur into a solid surface at speed, and the angle and view as seen from another car while in motion is unique. When I view the Ferrari and the Mclaren rolling, especially from the rear ¾ view, I don’t think there is a car that looks cooler than the Mclaren, but the Ferrari is right there with it. I’ve got a sweet set of 20/21 HREs on the 650S, and watching that car in motion feels like some kind of voyeuristic sin. However, I’m pretty sure its okay to covet a car when you already own it. I ‘spose its like staring in admiration at one’s beautiful wife. It’s safe AND satisfying.

So, if I had to pick a favorite, what would it be? All three cars are so magnificently overqualified for street and canyon driving that to call one superior to the others would be like saying that Coke is better than Pepsi. If you like world-class torsional rigidity, a view out like you are sitting on the tip of cruise missile, and righteous boost, the 675LT is it. If you like the delicious response of a NA, high revving V8 and the feeling that you can dominate any corner on any road or track known to man, it's the Speciale. There is certainly no arguing with the sense of occasion that accompanies firing up a limited edition, fire breathing Ferrari like the Speciale. However, the next time I hear someone refer to Mclaren as sterile or lacking personality, I'll give them a ride in the LT. I will then accept their trembling, awestruck apology after the ride is over. The LT is a game changer. The Speciale version of the 488, when it comes out, may be its
true competitor.