Patron saint of literary cool Joan Didion—who stalked the steamy, smoggy canyons of Los Angeles in a Daytona Yellow 1969 Corvette Stingray—once said, “Rationality, reasonableness bewilder me.”
If only Didion were along for this year’s Best Driver’s Car competition.
There is nothing rational or reasonable about holding the keys to $1.9 million worth of the world’s dreamiest sports cars, exotics, grand tourers, and supercars.
It’s one thing to parse the packaging of family-friendly compact SUVs. That’s our day job. Best Driver’s Car is about the way a car makes you feel. It’s about the bees in your belly as you clip an apex, the giggles induced by the slingshot launch of barely restrained acceleration, and the sense of satisfaction that comes from the melding of man and machine. Where’s the cupholder for my latte in the McLaren? Can you fit anyone in that back seat of a 911? How much does that Ferrari 488 really cost? Don’t know. Don’t care.
Our Highway Patrol–assisted closure of California State Route 198 and subsequent invasion of Mazda Raceway Laguna Seca are the highlights of this event. But the Best Driver’s Car format actually began two weeks prior at Auto Club Speedway, when our testing trio of Kim Reynolds, Chris Walton, and Erick Ayapana took their first crack at our contenders with our battery of standardized instrumented testing.
To earn the title of Best Driver’s Car, a vehicle must deliver a balance of usable performance, intuitive handling, and driver-friendly design. The winner should be a vehicle with a multidimensional personality, a car that will delight and reward the enthusiast driver on any road at any time, regardless of weather and traffic conditions.
We had quite the field this year, with representation from Italy, Germany, Japan, England, and the V-8 thunder of American freedom. But as the test team crunched the test results, there was no clear leader. A storm was brewing.
A four-hour drive along I-5’s trackless wastes brings us to our hotel in King City, California. Most of the other judges had convoyed up together around noon. But with most of California tucked into bed, associate editor Scott Evans and I made great time in the Aston Martin and Corvette. We rolled into the King City Days Inn a tick past midnight.
We were the last to arrive, but our hotel clerk couldn’t have been happier. It isn’t every day you get to meet a YouTube hero, a certain “Mr. Lieberman,” who earlier had given an impromptu car show to our host. His fan club is everywhere.
Highway 198 is a magical place, an undulating public two-lane roadway filled with tight switchbacks, sweeping curves, midcorner bumps, long straights, and panoramic views. It’s a gorgeous 4.2-mile stretch of roadway that climbs about 1,000 feet, allowing Motor Trend judges to test each contender at its (and their own) limits. Any shortcomings of either car or driver will be quickly identified on this passage. It is the mill that grinds the grist.
Just past daybreak, the ground fog still clearing, we pulled to the side of the road to set up camp, clean cars, and wait for the California Highway Patrol’s black and white Ford Explorers to close the road so we could begin.
After a team meeting, we fired up all 86 cylinders and commenced our first runs up the beckoning hills—each of us starting in the familiar car we had driven from L.A.
That meant the Chevrolet Corvette Grand Sport, intimidating in looks and sound, for me.
The ’Vette is really a sweetheart once set up properly—Driver Mode Select in Sport and the steering wheel set to Tour. In those modes, the throttle response is linear and quick, and the suspension is dialed in to maximize the car’s speed around corners. The steering is light and direct, though you need to make a conscious effort to slow yourself down because turn-in is still very quick. That doesn’t mean there isn’t room for improvement. “Needs 100 extra horsepower! Felt slow!” Jonny shouted after his turn behind the wheel. Also, the crowded seven-speed manual gearbox has rubbery, ropey throws and doesn’t like to be rushed, and the gear ratios felt too tall for the track-oriented Grand Sport. Said executive editor Mark Rechtin: “It seems like there was a big gap between the powerbands in third and fourth gear.”
Chevy used to sandbag the Camaro to avoid stepping on the Corvette’s toes, but those days are gone. The Camaro ZL1 1LE is an uncaged race car. As he pulled into our makeshift pit lane, Jonny could be heard screaming, “Yeaaaah!” and clapping his hands.
You’d think power would be why the Camaro works so well, but it’s actually grip that’s the key to this muscle car. Those steamroller-wide, superglue-sticky Goodyear tires work hand in hand with the DSSV dampers and the added aero aids to ensure that the Camaro can use each and every one of its 650 horses. “You quickly learn you can trust the tires as you unleash the power,” Detroit editor Alisa Priddle said. Scott added: “There’s a lot of vertical movement in the cabin, but the car never jumps sideways a foot when it hits a midcorner bump; it never moves around laterally at all.”
The downside to the Camaro’s grip is its ride quality—basically there is none. “I’ve encountered smoother paint mixers,” guest judge Derek Powell said. “The bouncing was so bad that I found myself reacting to that instead of focusing on the sheer act of driving.
The nuclear-waste green Mercedes-AMG GT R provoked whoops and hollers from all of the drivers. A brutal supercar that rewards fortitude, the AMG needs to be driven flat out in order to properly enjoy it. Dig deep into the 577-hp twin-turbo V-8, and you’re compensated by a violent surge of power and the soundtrack “of a small arms factory exploding behind your hips every time you come off the throttle,” as Jonny put it. “Let it rip,” Alisa added. “The AMG has the power to get unruly, but it holds the road incredibly well.”
Although the Mercedes’ nose bites with ferocity—only fighting back once you approach its limits—the rear end wasn’t as well behaved even at sane speeds. “There were several times when the rear would hop side to side or even produce drop-throttle oversteer or on-power oversteer,” Chris said.
Unlike the Merc, it’s hard to get into trouble in the Mazda Miata RF. Like any good naturally aspirated engine, the Miata is happy to rev its way to redline, growling sweetly as you stab the clutch and flick the six-speed manual into its next gear. The Miata is not fast, but it rewards a driver’s skill.
Entering corners, the Miata RF is surprisingly tail-happy. Mazda rehashed the ragtop’s suspension for 2017, but the RF is unsettled. “It’s always dancing on the top of its springs and edge of its tires,” Scott said. With traction control on, the Mazda’s electronic systems are constantly grabbing at the brakes to keep the Miata’s tail in line—sapping the little power the RF has to give.
A better beginner sports car to explore one’s limits might be the Porsche 718 Cayman S. “The chassis is so beautifully balanced, the handling so predictable,” Derek said. “Each movement is connected directly to the brain’s synapses.” Scott agreed, adding: “Steering is among the best here—talkative and light, quick enough but not too much. I wish the Miata handled like this.”
The 718’s 350-hp mid-mounted turbo flat-four is a good match for the platform, too–even if some of our judges wish it sounded less like a garbage disposal eating a fork. Alisa silenced those critics: “There are those who miss the sound of the old throaty engine, but the trade-off for a nice, wide powerband is worth it.”
There isn’t much room for improvement in the 718, but the Aston Martin DB11 could use some help in the braking department. Its 600-hp V-12 is more than capable of getting its nearly 4,200 pounds of British aluminium going (and quickly at that), but it lacks the brakes or suspension to handle that heft on a twisty road.
The DB11 has three suspension settings, but all feel inadequate for spirited performance. Its body control was subpar, the car displaying a tendency to porpoise through corners and over bumps. “It’s a wonderful GT car and is happy at high speeds, as long as the road doesn’t twist too much,” Scott said. Upsides: The V-12 provides epic thrust, and the steering is beautifully weighted, light, and linear—just as a British GT car should be.
As the Aston’s counterpoint in the grand touring department, the Lexus LC 500 was a revelation, having done its homework on chassis and suspension tuning. “The fundamentals are all there,” Jonny said. Scott provided further details: “Weight transfer is nicely handled, and the car sits in a turn nicely.” The Lexus provides light, progressive feedback from the wheel, and its four-wheel-steering system helps make the LC feel smaller than it is.
The LC’s 5.0-liter V-8 makes a good match for the 10-speed auto, though the gearbox was frustrating for its abundance of overdrive gears. “How can this car have 10 gears and never, ever be in the right one?” Chris asked. “There were at least a dozen rejected downshifts.”
You’d expect the lone four-door sedan in our group to be soft, but it’s clear the Alfa Romeo Giulia Quadrifoglio “is a sports car regardless of how many doors it has,” Derek said. The Alfa’s sportiness is baked into its chassis; it’s a car that rewards smooth inputs yet begs to be driven hard. “This might be the best-handling sedan I have driven in 25 years of automotive journalism,” Mark said. “And yes, that includes the W124 and E39.” The 2.9-liter twin-turbo V-6 is laggy down low, but it hits you in the face with a sledgehammer once you’re above 2,000 rpm. Its eight-speed auto rattles off shifts as if it were a dual-clutch transmission.
Complaints? A few. The engine, for all its power, doesn’t communicate what it’s doing at redline, making shifting by ear difficult. Some also found the Alfa’s Italian electrics a little buggy, with inconsistent brake-by-wire feel and a seemingly overeager overheat protection mode that would impose a 5,000-rpm rev limiter on the engine and limit torque vectoring at the rear axle.
The other Italian in our group, the Ferrari 488 GTB, delivered thrills on an epiphanic level.
After piling out of the Ferrari babbling a red-mist rant, Mark calmed down enough to say, “This delivers every teenager’s fantasy when they think of Ferrari.”
The Ferrari 488 is one of those rare cars that makes you feel immediately at home despite its exotic appearance. The cabin is open and airy with a driver-focused interface. There are no distractions. Your hands hold a flat-bottomed, carbon-fiber and leather steering wheel, and all the needed controls are a finger’s reach away.
Not only does the 488 GTB feel magical merely sitting still, but it’s also glorious to drive. The Ferrari’s small twin-turbocharged engine makes 661 horsepower. “It’s a force of nature, like being picked up by a tornado,” Scott said. The 488 also carries tenacious grip “with a flat attitude and fingertip control while cornering at speeds 10 to 15 mph faster than other vehicles—with the same if not greater confidence heading down 198 as up,” editor-in-chief Ed Loh said. The Achilles’ heel for the Ferrari is its brakes—the carbon ceramics have a slightly wooden feel and squeak like the midnight subway to Coney Island.
If on the emotional scale the Ferrari is an embrace from a Victoria’s Secret model, the McLaren 570GT is a polite but firm handshake from gritty Bruce himself. Last year’s winning 570S was a highly rewarding and technical car, but in softening the 570 for grand touring duty, McLaren seemed to scrape away some of the special sauce. “It’s not what I would have expected,” Chris said. “This one feels far more ass-happy and less balanced and composed.” The 570GT feels stuck between sledgehammer and rubber mallet—it no longer drives like a supercar, but it’s not soft enough to drive like a proper GT.
The issue is especially apparent if you’ve forgotten to press the “Active” button. Turn on the Active Panel, and dig into the 30-some-odd possible drivetrain configurations, and that sharpens steering and throttle response. But then the handling becomes unpredictable. “There were times when I’d exit a corner and the engine and transmission would be ready for it, and I’d rocket out onto the straight at full boost,” Derek said. “Other times it felt like I caught the car unaware.” When the McLaren is awake, there’s a hint of that 570S magic in its fingertip-light steering, supple ride, and peaky but powerful little engine, but the 570GT’s inconsistency hurt its credibility.
If you want instant confidence bordering on immortality, the Porsche 911 Turbo S is your machine. Despite the PDK seven-speed dual-clutch doing the shifting, despite the torque-vectoring all-wheel-drive system constantly shuffling around the twin-turbo flat-six’s 580 hp, and despite the four-wheel steering making the 911 feel smaller than it is, the Porsche makes its driver feel responsible for it all. “Right out of the box, the 911 Turbo S lets you drive as fast as you dare, brake as hard as you can, and turn as much as you wish,” Derek said. “It doesn’t just inspire confidence. It inspires a relationship with the driver.”
Still, some, like Jonny, thought the 911 made things too easy. “This thing is weaponized speed,” he said. “It’s maniacally capable but not the most engaging car, let alone 911, I’ve ever driven.” Added Ed: “It is a focused tool intended for one purpose: going very fast. Really hard to find a flaw here; if I’m being really critical, it’s a bit anodyne.” He quickly followed with: “I take it back about it being boring.”
Now eight years since it made its debut, the latest Nissan GT-R NISMO still remains very proficient at hauling ass. Defined by what should be physically impossible levels of grip, it’s a car that you chuck into corners, mash the gas, and let the all-wheel-drive system sort things out. Godzilla’s 3.8-liter twin-turbo V-6 is indeed a monster worthy of the name—boost hits strong, and the power keeps coming. “This engine pulls and surges effortlessly,” Erick said. Ed said it was “noticeably sharper, like they ran the GT-R over a Japanese whetstone.”
But some things don’t change. The programming on the GT-R’s six-speed dual-clutch is lacking, making manual shifting a must for performance driving. The ride is literally a sore spot. And then there’s the steering—it broke. Nearly every judge had a bizarre issue after hitting a midcorner bump, where the steering wheel would go cockeyed at a 20-degree angle, yet the car would be going straight down the road. Then the steering wheel would correct itself as if nothing had happened. Chris had it happen multiple times, with GT-R chief engineer Hiroshi Tamura riding shotgun. “It was an unusual electro-mechanical anomaly,” Chris said. “Tamura-san was as curious about it as I was.”
As Motor Trend en Español editor Miguel Cortina nursed the NISMO back to our makeshift Highway 198 paddock, he handed the keys to Tamura-san and the Nissan team for repairs. The question as we pointed our field north toward Mazda Raceway Laguna Seca was whether the GT-R would be fixed in time for our staff champion racer Randy Pobst’s hot laps around the track.
Hot Shoes, Cool FogMonterey, let alone Mazda Raceway, has its own microclimate. Monterey proper was warm and clear, but the track was cool and foggy. It would be lousy for visibility but great for the turbocharged cars that Randy would run that day.
After a quick sighting lap in our long-term Honda Civic to scout the conditions, Randy, Ed, and the test team determined which six cars to run on day one.
718. Corvette. Ferrari. McLaren. Camaro. 911. The assembled teams scrambled off to start prepping the cars. Meanwhile, a local Nissan dealer was attempting to bandage Godzilla.
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