#He's carrying a well over 500 lb hammer

[shugokiisdad]

[fit-as-fxck]

“The Romanian deadlift is similar to the conventional deadlift except completely different.” “...You just contradicted yourself.”

Yes, I said that.

Monday’s workout lasted almost three hours. Most of my time was spent teaching technique and cues for compound lifts. My partner caught on quickly and I feel like he will progress rapidly and see a lot of “beginner gains”. I forgot how weird and unnatural some of these movements feel when you’re a beginner. Most of us don’t go around in our daily life deadlifting over 100 lbs off the floor, or even activating the right muscles when we do so. It’s clear he is ready to push himself and even told me that I can push him more... but I need to make sure proper form is learned etc so he doesn’t hurt himself. Duh. It was nice having a partner because he wasn’t afraid to push me on my own lifts, spot me, and tell me when I needed to slow my tempo down. He told me your brain will always tell you to stop before your body actually reaches what it is capable of. Very true. He’s still very much a novice when it comes to working out/lifting but I didn’t want to take him through a bunch of little bullshit exercises that the personal trainers do at my gym, so I threw him right into the major lifts so he can advance RAPIDLY lmao. Most of the workout was instructional, which I didn't mind. But I was able to get my stuff done too. It just took long because of all the pausing and explaining. He seems super open to trying things and even tried hip thrusts which I wasn't expecting. I maxed out both my deadlift, squat and hip thrust. 

Tuesday’s workout was an upper body endurance day but for instructional purposes I made it a hybrid of strength and endurance. Which is great because I don’t want him to test strength too hard until he gets the movement patterns down. We’re focusing on strong shoulders, strong back, strong core and legs that can carry you the distance. We ran a mile run to warm up, then moved to the rowing machine to warm up the back and upper body. We did mobility work and I advised that he works on his mobility drills every single day. Then we did bench press, worked on pull ups, lat pull downs, single lat pull downs, seated rows, overhead standing military press, skullcrushers super-setted with decline sit ups, and hammer curls super-setted with inverted rows to failure (His back is a major weakness right now, but it wont be for long). We ended with more core work and I took him through some important stretches and advised that he take a yoga class or two to get better at it. It seems the new years crowed finally showed up because the gym seems to be jam packed with new faces this week and I saw more taking tours and signing up. It annoyed me soooo much because I'm so used to being on my own with only a few people I always recognize but I reminded myself I had no right to be annoyed or hate on it. Absolutely no right to, but the crowd still unreasonably annoyed me omg lord help me. With all these new faces in the gym I think I got mistaken for one of their personal trainers. My partner said if he walked in off the street he would have thought I was one and that I was the fittest person in there, that's not saying much because there usually aren't more than a small handful of people in there at one time.

There’s a lot he isn't used to doing - muscles that aren't used to working so sometimes he gets frustrated that he isn't more advanced at something. Being where he is not an issue at all. I reminded him to be patient and that he will never live this particular day again, never be in this particular spot again because he’s only moving forward. Everyday that he works on this, he is making himself less and less of a beginner. Down the road he will have to be able to run 10 miles and be strong as hell. The one way you get there is one. step. at. a. time. (and his goals are also helping me run more which I kinda always hate when I first start doing it again)

Wednesday’s are usually my cardio and recovery day. We’ll be starting out with a two mile run, then move to the rowing machine where we will time how fast it takes us to row 500 meters and then perform several 500 -1,000 meter splits. After that we will do some conditioning drills. Normally, I would just stick to the cardio and rest but my partner seems super eager to do all that he can and really be pushed. We’ll be performing a conditioning circuit of:  (4 sets x 20 reps at least) 

box jumps

kettlebell swings

dumbbell power cleans

plank rotations

reverse lunge and chop

battle ropes until failure

He (and me) should be beat, well, that's the goal. Down the road ill add in some boxing, rope climbs, sled pushes and tire slams.

I mentioned before I went through his goals but I'm taking him through my own training this week - that is specific to me. I have evaluated what he needs and will tailor a plan specifically for him. He has a little bit of a muscular imbalance so I'll incorporate some single leg/single arm movements to match strength on both sides etc. I’m thinking he also needs to switch up his cardio, and ill give him a backpacking pack and have him put weight in it and trek a certain number of miles on an outdoor trail, much like a ruck march. He’s gotta get used to it anyways. And ill start him out doing those on the weekends. his goals aren't to work for muscular SIZE or bodybuilding aesthetics, but for strength, stamina and incredible endurance. (strength to weight ratio - so moving forward his workouts will differ from mine a little)

As far as my own training goes: I'm feeling strong and more and more conditioned. Adding cardio back in will be really good for my goals. My lifts are increasing in weight which is cool. My diet is pretty tight right now and the cravings have almost passed. The other day I went into the grocery store to pick up a few things and walked by the donuts and stared at them for a second before walking away. I’m not sure how I got myself away from the magnetic pull of the donuts, but I did. There is a time and a place for donuts, but I'm cutting and working in fat loss phase so now is not the time which sucks because I'm pretty sure I would kill someone for cake. But its fine. I’m fine. It’s fine.

[eddiejpoplar]

The Alpine A110 Is Very French and Very Good

Turn up in France on July 14—Bastille Day, the Gallic nation’s answer to our Fourth of July—and les expressions du français will come at you rapid-fire. And should the next day happen to be the one on which the national team of this most proudly patriotic of nations finally wins soccer’s World Cup for the first time in 20 years, as happened last July, be assured the country will really let its hair down.

When you arrive in a town driving a new Renault Alpine A110, incredibly, the effect is magnified, as we found out moments after the French team’s great win. We were attempting to thread the distinctively blue two-seater through the streets of Arcachon, a resort destination on France’s south Atlantic coast. Stopped dead in single-lane traffic but also cheek to jowl with some of the commune’s most exuberant partisans, many if not all eyes were upon the Alpine, Renault’s extraordinary modern tribute to Jean Rédélé’s famous original rally-winning A110 stormer of the early 1960s and late ’70s.

Rédélé hopped up lowly Renault 4CVs in the ’50s, and from those humble origins he created the Alpine marque in 1954. What Rédélé ultimately wrought with Alpine is a kind of funkier French Lotus, with a racing and rally history ultimately supporting—and being supported by—road cars powered almost exclusively by Renault. Renault’s close association with Alpine became complete when it acquired the business in 1973. That same year Alpine-Renault won the inaugural World Rally Championship Manufacturers’ Championship running the original A110.

Larger, more comfortable, and more practical than its namesake—different yet strongly reminiscent—the new A110 was revealed at the Geneva Motor Show in March 2017. The second coming of Alpine’s greatest hit, it was eagerly awaited by enthusiasts the world over, even in America, where it will not be sold. The latter fact borders on tragic because the new Alpine is not only a hoot to drive but is also a fully resolved automotive proposition.

After we landed in Paris but before we got caught up in the World Cup festivities, we drove this Alpine A110 500 miles south to the verdant, sun-dappled hills of Gascony, then on to the coast and the mob scene. The Alpine first distinguishes itself by being almost unique in conception. The French, once known for such things, do “weird” less and less these days, but the new A110 represents a highly credible and long overdue return to idiosyncratic form.

The substantial diffuser and flat floor create big downforce, allowing the all-aluminum, 150-mph A110 to avoid a loopy rear spoiler.

The last model badged strictly as an Alpine was the rear-engine A610, which finished rolling off lines in 1995. Unlike those last cars and their predecessors, which employed fiberglass body panels and a slight backbone chassis—a formula that doesn’t cut it in these days of side- and offset-crash testing—the reimagined A110’s chassis and body are constructed almost entirely of bonded and riveted aluminum.

With stylistic nods to the signature roofline and rear windscreen treatment of the old A110—the essential Alpine, looks-wise—this new one squarely captures the look of the original.

The new car’s 1.8-liter turbo four-cylinder engine is a product of the corporate Nissan-Renault Alliance. Small but potent, it makes a big, gruff noise when prodded, more muscular than its size suggests. Mounting the engine behind the driver flies in the face of convention, as does the A110’s decidedly rearward-biased weight distribution (a claimed 44/56 split). An independent wishbone suspension, designed to help the A110 achieve a strong ride and handling balance, is in effect here, even though such a design too often seems to fall by the wayside when carmakers start looking to pare cost.

The new Alpine A110 borrows the seminal original’s name and style [shown here: 1975 Alpine 1300 VC], managing like few before it to capture the essence of a beloved ancestor.

Possibly most trailblazing of all, however, is the Alpine’s modest weight. At 2,381 pounds, it keeps company with what is nowadays a rarefied and shrinking cohort. The rewards of minimalism in terms of poundage are instantly obvious, accounting for a performance that belies the Alpine’s humble displacement by making the most of its 249 horsepower and 236 lb-ft of torque. Sixty mph comes up in less than 4.5 seconds. There’s sufficient steam to hit 155 mph, making the A110 rapid enough for most every occasion—and it’s relatively efficient to boot. At a hair less than $70,000, this special car definitely flies as a certain type of value proposition.

Aerodynamics help. In homage to the original A110 Berlinette (1961–77), engineers worked in the wind tunnel to avoid having to fit an ungainly rear spoiler, which they accomplished by employing an undercar diffuser located aft of a single-sheet, all-aluminum floor. Up front, the Alpine’s radiator lies back at an angle, allowing the car’s nose to sit that much lower to the ground, nearer than would have been possible in a front-engine car. There’s room for a fair amount of soft luggage in the front and rear trunks. With stylistic nods to the signature roofline and rear windscreen treatment of the old A110—the essential Alpine, looks-wise—this new one complies with strict EU crash and deformability standards. Yet it squarely captures the look of the original.

Beginning what would morph into a 1,300-mile, weeklong odyssey in the Alpine, we left the factory showroom in Boulogne-Billancourt, on the western outskirts of Paris, and headed for the quaint and tiny hamlet of Lagraulet-du-Gers, population approximately 400. During those first few hundred miles, the Alpine showed it could handle traffic well, and despite its diminutive size and modest displacement, it was fully up to the task of consuming big distances in grand-touring style. Road noise was low, power revelatory without being excessive, and the seats were unexpectedly comfortable in spite of their sporty shape and stunningly light and elegantly simple construction. At about 29 pounds each, they weigh about half that of a typical car seat.

Doors that close with authority and quilted upholstery finished in black with decent dash and interior plastics elevate the Alpine’s interior well above the kit-car/parts-bin connotations that might once have clung to the brand. Its air conditioning is strong on a hot day, and the digital dash display is easy to read and works without annoying glitches. Three different screen views correspond to preset Comfort, Sport, and Track settings, which govern power, shifts, and chassis characteristics.

The interior design and materials emit no whiff of cheap, low-volume kit-car.

Grand touring is precisely what it felt like when we checked into the Hôtel Le Castel Pierre de Lagraulet. An exquisite boutique hotel with just five guest rooms, it has been lovingly recommissioned from an old castle that had fallen into disrepair. The couple behind the effort, like Alpine, seem to have figured out how to combine the best of the old world with our favorite modern conveniences in a seamless and appealing way. Hammering down country lanes, passing through rolling farm fields filled with hectare after hectare of yellow sunflowers and endless rows of neatly tended grape vines: The beauty of it all, in concert with the Alpine’s magical chassis and frisky affect, proves inspiring.

As we pulled into Fourcès for lunch on Bastille Day, half the patrons in an outdoor restaurant where we stopped for a trouser-busting lunch of slow-cooked lamb, eggplant, and sheep’s cheese poured out into the town square to admire the Alpine. They were delighted to see the car in the metal, surprised to see it being driven by an American, but filled with pride.

Again we come back to weight, which may be, along with lines that strike us as very fresh in this homogenized age of automotive design, the Alpine’s most remarkable achievement. This statistic amazes: An A110 carries almost 600 fewer pounds than a Porsche 718 Cayman, a car the new model comes as close to in conception as anything. Dynamically, the Alpine exhibits all the benefits of feathery weight with remarkably few of the demerits. Most surprising is its sense of rigidity and solidity. There are no rattles and little wanting in the way of comfort and convenience next to the Porsche, arguably the gold standard in less-than-stratospherically priced, mid-engine, two-seat sports cars.

Jamie Kitman reckons the Alpine is one of the best cars he drove all year, with modern electronics like the digital dash harmonizing well with its classic appearance.

Like the Cayman, the A110 offers a delectable degree of steering precision with the sort of feel we thought pretty much no longer existed. It intoxicates on secondary country roads, a right-sized car with superb balance and bags of power, readily accessed via its intuitive and agreeable paddle-shifted Getrag seven-speed dual-clutch automatic. Yet it’s also fully up to the task of turning French autoroutes into mincemeat, going as fast as you or your license dare. A passing bird said that 100 mph equates to only about 3,700 rpm in the Alpine, which is pretty relaxed and all the more remarkable for its 1.8 liters.

Unlike so many cars that seek to capitalize on their heritage without the slightest grounds, the Alpine A110 actually extends Jean Rédélé’s philosophy into the 21st century, using the latest technology and engineering smarts to pursue the goal of reduced weight in the name of sports-car fun. If that doesn’t make you get up and want to sing “La Marseillaise,” nothing will.

2018 Alpine A110 Specifications

ON SALE Now (not in U.S.) PRICE $70,000 (base, est) ENGINE 1.8L turbocharged DOHC 16 valve I-4/249 hp 
@ 6,000 rpm, 236 lb-ft 
@ 2,000 rpm TRANSMISSION 7-speed dual-clutch automatic LAYOUT 2-door, 2-passenger, 
mid-engine, RWD coupe EPA MILEAGE N/A L x W x H 164.6 x 70.8 x 48.3 in WHEELBASE 95.2 in WEIGHT 2,381 lb 0–60 MPH 4.5 sec (est) TOP SPEED

[jesusvasser]

The Alpine A110 Is Very French and Very Good

Turn up in France on July 14—Bastille Day, the Gallic nation’s answer to our Fourth of July—and les expressions du français will come at you rapid-fire. And should the next day happen to be the one on which the national team of this most proudly patriotic of nations finally wins soccer’s World Cup for the first time in 20 years, as happened last July, be assured the country will really let its hair down.

When you arrive in a town driving a new Renault Alpine A110, incredibly, the effect is magnified, as we found out moments after the French team’s great win. We were attempting to thread the distinctively blue two-seater through the streets of Arcachon, a resort destination on France’s south Atlantic coast. Stopped dead in single-lane traffic but also cheek to jowl with some of the commune’s most exuberant partisans, many if not all eyes were upon the Alpine, Renault’s extraordinary modern tribute to Jean Rédélé’s famous original rally-winning A110 stormer of the early 1960s and late ’70s.

Rédélé hopped up lowly Renault 4CVs in the ’50s, and from those humble origins he created the Alpine marque in 1954. What Rédélé ultimately wrought with Alpine is a kind of funkier French Lotus, with a racing and rally history ultimately supporting—and being supported by—road cars powered almost exclusively by Renault. Renault’s close association with Alpine became complete when it acquired the business in 1973. That same year Alpine-Renault won the inaugural World Rally Championship Manufacturers’ Championship running the original A110.

Larger, more comfortable, and more practical than its namesake—different yet strongly reminiscent—the new A110 was revealed at the Geneva Motor Show in March 2017. The second coming of Alpine’s greatest hit, it was eagerly awaited by enthusiasts the world over, even in America, where it will not be sold. The latter fact borders on tragic because the new Alpine is not only a hoot to drive but is also a fully resolved automotive proposition.

After we landed in Paris but before we got caught up in the World Cup festivities, we drove this Alpine A110 500 miles south to the verdant, sun-dappled hills of Gascony, then on to the coast and the mob scene. The Alpine first distinguishes itself by being almost unique in conception. The French, once known for such things, do “weird” less and less these days, but the new A110 represents a highly credible and long overdue return to idiosyncratic form.

The substantial diffuser and flat floor create big downforce, allowing the all-aluminum, 150-mph A110 to avoid a loopy rear spoiler.

The last model badged strictly as an Alpine was the rear-engine A610, which finished rolling off lines in 1995. Unlike those last cars and their predecessors, which employed fiberglass body panels and a slight backbone chassis—a formula that doesn’t cut it in these days of side- and offset-crash testing—the reimagined A110’s chassis and body are constructed almost entirely of bonded and riveted aluminum.

With stylistic nods to the signature roofline and rear windscreen treatment of the old A110—the essential Alpine, looks-wise—this new one squarely captures the look of the original.

The new car’s 1.8-liter turbo four-cylinder engine is a product of the corporate Nissan-Renault Alliance. Small but potent, it makes a big, gruff noise when prodded, more muscular than its size suggests. Mounting the engine behind the driver flies in the face of convention, as does the A110’s decidedly rearward-biased weight distribution (a claimed 44/56 split). An independent wishbone suspension, designed to help the A110 achieve a strong ride and handling balance, is in effect here, even though such a design too often seems to fall by the wayside when carmakers start looking to pare cost.

The new Alpine A110 borrows the seminal original’s name and style [shown here: 1975 Alpine 1300 VC], managing like few before it to capture the essence of a beloved ancestor.

Possibly most trailblazing of all, however, is the Alpine’s modest weight. At 2,381 pounds, it keeps company with what is nowadays a rarefied and shrinking cohort. The rewards of minimalism in terms of poundage are instantly obvious, accounting for a performance that belies the Alpine’s humble displacement by making the most of its 249 horsepower and 236 lb-ft of torque. Sixty mph comes up in less than 4.5 seconds. There’s sufficient steam to hit 155 mph, making the A110 rapid enough for most every occasion—and it’s relatively efficient to boot. At a hair less than $70,000, this special car definitely flies as a certain type of value proposition.

Aerodynamics help. In homage to the original A110 Berlinette (1961–77), engineers worked in the wind tunnel to avoid having to fit an ungainly rear spoiler, which they accomplished by employing an undercar diffuser located aft of a single-sheet, all-aluminum floor. Up front, the Alpine’s radiator lies back at an angle, allowing the car’s nose to sit that much lower to the ground, nearer than would have been possible in a front-engine car. There’s room for a fair amount of soft luggage in the front and rear trunks. With stylistic nods to the signature roofline and rear windscreen treatment of the old A110—the essential Alpine, looks-wise—this new one complies with strict EU crash and deformability standards. Yet it squarely captures the look of the original.

Beginning what would morph into a 1,300-mile, weeklong odyssey in the Alpine, we left the factory showroom in Boulogne-Billancourt, on the western outskirts of Paris, and headed for the quaint and tiny hamlet of Lagraulet-du-Gers, population approximately 400. During those first few hundred miles, the Alpine showed it could handle traffic well, and despite its diminutive size and modest displacement, it was fully up to the task of consuming big distances in grand-touring style. Road noise was low, power revelatory without being excessive, and the seats were unexpectedly comfortable in spite of their sporty shape and stunningly light and elegantly simple construction. At about 29 pounds each, they weigh about half that of a typical car seat.

Doors that close with authority and quilted upholstery finished in black with decent dash and interior plastics elevate the Alpine’s interior well above the kit-car/parts-bin connotations that might once have clung to the brand. Its air conditioning is strong on a hot day, and the digital dash display is easy to read and works without annoying glitches. Three different screen views correspond to preset Comfort, Sport, and Track settings, which govern power, shifts, and chassis characteristics.

The interior design and materials emit no whiff of cheap, low-volume kit-car.

Grand touring is precisely what it felt like when we checked into the Hôtel Le Castel Pierre de Lagraulet. An exquisite boutique hotel with just five guest rooms, it has been lovingly recommissioned from an old castle that had fallen into disrepair. The couple behind the effort, like Alpine, seem to have figured out how to combine the best of the old world with our favorite modern conveniences in a seamless and appealing way. Hammering down country lanes, passing through rolling farm fields filled with hectare after hectare of yellow sunflowers and endless rows of neatly tended grape vines: The beauty of it all, in concert with the Alpine’s magical chassis and frisky affect, proves inspiring.

As we pulled into Fourcès for lunch on Bastille Day, half the patrons in an outdoor restaurant where we stopped for a trouser-busting lunch of slow-cooked lamb, eggplant, and sheep’s cheese poured out into the town square to admire the Alpine. They were delighted to see the car in the metal, surprised to see it being driven by an American, but filled with pride.

Again we come back to weight, which may be, along with lines that strike us as very fresh in this homogenized age of automotive design, the Alpine’s most remarkable achievement. This statistic amazes: An A110 carries almost 600 fewer pounds than a Porsche 718 Cayman, a car the new model comes as close to in conception as anything. Dynamically, the Alpine exhibits all the benefits of feathery weight with remarkably few of the demerits. Most surprising is its sense of rigidity and solidity. There are no rattles and little wanting in the way of comfort and convenience next to the Porsche, arguably the gold standard in less-than-stratospherically priced, mid-engine, two-seat sports cars.

Jamie Kitman reckons the Alpine is one of the best cars he drove all year, with modern electronics like the digital dash harmonizing well with its classic appearance.

Like the Cayman, the A110 offers a delectable degree of steering precision with the sort of feel we thought pretty much no longer existed. It intoxicates on secondary country roads, a right-sized car with superb balance and bags of power, readily accessed via its intuitive and agreeable paddle-shifted Getrag seven-speed dual-clutch automatic. Yet it’s also fully up to the task of turning French autoroutes into mincemeat, going as fast as you or your license dare. A passing bird said that 100 mph equates to only about 3,700 rpm in the Alpine, which is pretty relaxed and all the more remarkable for its 1.8 liters.

Unlike so many cars that seek to capitalize on their heritage without the slightest grounds, the Alpine A110 actually extends Jean Rédélé’s philosophy into the 21st century, using the latest technology and engineering smarts to pursue the goal of reduced weight in the name of sports-car fun. If that doesn’t make you get up and want to sing “La Marseillaise,” nothing will.

2018 Alpine A110 Specifications

ON SALE Now (not in U.S.) PRICE $70,000 (base, est) ENGINE 1.8L turbocharged DOHC 16 valve I-4/249 hp 
@ 6,000 rpm, 236 lb-ft 
@ 2,000 rpm TRANSMISSION 7-speed dual-clutch automatic LAYOUT 2-door, 2-passenger, 
mid-engine, RWD coupe EPA MILEAGE N/A L x W x H 164.6 x 70.8 x 48.3 in WHEELBASE 95.2 in WEIGHT 2,381 lb 0–60 MPH 4.5 sec (est) TOP SPEED

[jonathanbelloblog]

Prototype Drive: 2019 McLaren Senna

SILVERSTONE CIRCUIT, England — Five minutes after intentionally cutting-short my first six-lap driving session on one of the world’s fastest Grand Prix tracks, I excused myself to the pitlane bathroom and unceremoniously tossed up my entire English breakfast. Mind you, I’d been feeling dicey all morning—probably a bad egg—but I’m quite sure that, under normal circumstances, I would’ve managed to soldier through without any restroom histrionics necessary.

This was no normal morning: I was test-driving a prototype of one of the most uncompromising, technologically advanced, and violently quick supercars ever built, the all-new 2019 McLaren Senna. Trust me: Even without an aperitif of food poisoning, the Senna is such a whirlwind of g forces, so Krakatoa-like in its speed and braking power, in only a lap or two it could easily reduce a NASA astronaut to a trembling, babbling impersonation of Linda Blair.

Back in February, when I first traveled to England for the unveiling of the Senna prototype, I remarked on the considerable, seemingly impossible challenge McLaren had undertaken in attempting to produce a road car worthy of its namesake, the late three-time Formula 1 world champion Ayrton Senna. “Anything less,” I wrote then, “would be a discredit to the Brazilian maestro.” That was putting it mildly. The stakes for McLaren cannot be overstated: In the history of motorsports, Ayrton Senna is one of the all-time icons, arguably the greatest race car driver who ever lived. In his home country of Brazil he’s a national hero. In Japan—which produced the Honda engines that powered his McLaren F1 cars to all three of his world titles—Senna is revered as a god. Even a “very good” effort would have been viewed as a failure. No, to be a “Senna,” McLaren’s new supercar had to be spectacular.

It is. I had an inkling of that when I first reviewed the specs and technical details of the car back at the February reveal. On paper at least, the Senna looked savage. But it was within minutes of arriving at the Silverstone Circuit for my test of the car that I truly knew I was about to experience a performance monster, a machine possibly unlike any other road-legal vehicle I’d ever driven. “Because you haven’t been around this track before,” said one of the McLaren handlers as our small group gathered in the pitlane, “first you’ll go out for some warm-up laps in a McLaren 720S.” Uh, okay … so we’re going to warm up in a 720-horsepower, 211-mph exotic car that just won a coveted spot on the 2018 Automobile All-Stars list? Just how fast is this Senna thing, anyway? For a moment I looked down at the fireproof Nomex suit McLaren had loaned me for the day and wondered, “Hmmm. Maybe I should wear two.”

Do not mistake the Senna for an upgraded 720S. While the two cars share some basic hardware, the Senna is an entirely new automobile—the new pinnacle of McLaren’s Ultimate Series range. Unlike the hybrid powerplant in the McLaren P1, the Senna uses the same basic twin-turbo 4.0-liter V-8 found in the 720S—but with such improvements as a revised air intake and inlet manifold fed by a dramatic roof-mounted scoop, revised cams, and dual high-flow fuel pumps. Power climbs to 789 hp at 7,250 rpm and 590 pound-feet of torque (a boost of 22 lb-ft) at 6,700 rpm. A slightly reworked seven-speed dual-clutch paddle shifter carries over from the 720S.

“But wait,” you say. “The gas/electric hybrid powertrain in the P1 made a combined system output of 903 horsepower. Isn’t the Senna’s 789 hp a step down?” Perhaps on a long stretch of unlimited autobahn, where the P1 could theoretically push to 217 mph versus “only” 211 mph for the Senna, you’d have a case. But you’d be missing the point: McLaren built the Senna to be the ultimate roadgoing track car. And on the racetrack, the only venue where it can truly strut its stuff, the Senna leaves the P1 sucking its super-heated exhaust fumes.

Consider a few comparisons. With its towering, constantly adjusting rear wing, movable front aero blades, and purposefully sculptured bodywork, at speed the Senna can produce nearly 1,800 pounds of combined downforce—40 percent more than the P1. Almost every piece of the Senna’s bodywork—including McLaren’s latest Monocage III tub—is made of lightweight, super-strong carbon fiber. Even the nuts and bolts have been fussed over to be 33 percent lighter. Thus, the Senna—at about 2,900 pounds curb weight—undercuts the P1 by roughly 400 pounds. And then there’s this: Going into the famous Stowe right-hander at the end of Silverstone’s long Hangar Straight, McLaren’s test drivers are braking 25 meters later in the Senna than in the P1. Next time you’re inside a football stadium, take a look at how far the 25-yard-line is from the end zone. Yeah, it’s a lot. As a track car, the Senna is simply in a different league.

After my morning breakfast cleanse I felt fine when the time arrived for my afternoon lapping session in the Senna. I also was beginning to feel comfortable with the line around the track. We were using Silverstone’s truncated, 1.9-mile “International Circuit,” but that still included the Hangar Straight, Stowe corner, and Abbey, a turn-one right-hander taken—in the Senna—in fourth gear after the briefest dab of the brakes from 150 mph. Time to give McLaren’s new wondercar a good push.

Riding shotgun was McLaren test driver and current British Touring Car racer Josh Cook (a brave soul indeed). During our morning sessions in the 720S and the Senna, Cook had kept our helmet-to-helmet intercoms busy with advice on braking markers, turn-in points, and potential pitfalls. For instance, carry too much speed into the long, long right-hand Club Corner leading onto the International Straight, and you could easily spin into the inside wall and end up on the front page of London’s Daily Mail: “Yank Stank! Pinhead Pulverizes Priceless Prototype!”

After a lap to warm up the tires, coming out of Abbey I pushed my right foot flat to the floor and instantly the air was gone from my lungs. The acceleration of the Senna is insane (for you numbers types, that means a quarter-mile time of just 9.9 seconds). As I crested the hill into the quick left-hand Farm Curve, Cook was in my earphones: “More throttle!” We were already traveling plenty fast but, still in fourth gear, I dutifully pressed deeper into the gas and, impossibly, the Senna just bit down and hammered through the bend without so much as a bobble. Such is the frightening magic of working with a high-downforce, active-aero car: more speed produces more downforce, which produces more speed and more downforce! You wonder, will the cycle ever end? (Well, yeah, eventually it will—at which point you’ll find yourself launching straight off to Scotland.) Suffice it to say, in my second six-lap stint I never got close to that almighty limit. It was hard enough to keep my head upright as it was.

To produce the cornering force of a tetherball smacked by an angry sixth-grader, the Senna relies upon a symphony of systems working in perfect synchronicity. The rear wing moves constantly; under braking, it pops up fully for maximum drag. On the Hangar Straight, it would essentially flatten-out into what an F1 car would feature as DRS (Drag Reduction System) mode—allowing the Senna to slip through the air as effortlessly as possible. In-between, the wing works in-concert with the front aero blades (which also constantly adjust in angle) to maximize cornering balance and grip. Also incorporated into the bodywork: a “Gurney flap” above each rear tire, which creates a low-pressure void in back that helps suck hot air through the huge radiators mounted in front of each rear wheel. The carbon-fiber splitter under the Senna’s nose is so huge it could almost pass for a locomotive’s cow catcher.

The aerodynamic aids enhance the prowess of the RaceActive Chassis Control II system, an evolution of the P1’s suspension upgraded with revised software. In Race mode, the suspension lowers a dramatic 1.5 inches closer to the asphalt. And then there are the incredible brakes: lightweight carbon-ceramics, each disc requiring seven months to produce and operating at reduced temperatures for greater resistance to fade. The huge binders sit inside McLaren’s first-ever center-locking wheels, the single, F1-like bolt allowing an odd number (nine) of spokes, further saving weight. Each wheel wears a high-performance Pirelli Trofeo R tire specially developed for the Senna.

The cockpit is a cinch to enter, thanks to the large opening afforded by the upward-swinging doors, and inside awaits a space of brilliant minimalism. The carbon-fiber seat shells wear just enough pads for driver comfort and support; Senna buyers (every one of the 500 cars has already been sold) can have their seats custom-fitted. The gear-selection and launch-control buttons move fore-and-aft with the driver’s seat. The Alcantara-wrapped three-spoke wheel is completely devoid of buttons, switches, or other distractions. Engine start/stop, chassis-mode selection, and even the door-opening switches are mounted in a pod above the rear-view mirror. A folding digital display screen glides up into position when you’re ready for tachometer and other info. The view to the front is sensational—almost as if you’re sitting in a single-seater.

Hammering out of a tight left-right chicane and onto the Hangar Straight, the Senna’s digital speedometer spooled up like a bathroom scale being stepped-on by an elephant. I was reaching the top of fifth gear, just more than 160 mph, before pounding onto the binders for Stowe. The stopping force was like slamming into a parked dump truck. Yet every time, Cook would say calmly into the intercom: “Next lap, try braking even later.” On my final lap, going into Stowe I braked so late all the nearby pubs closed—and still the Senna turned-in without so much as a hiccup. The car’s combination of grip and poise is nothing short of mind-blowing. (As an interesting side note: For my second lapping session I switched from a full-face helmet to an open-face one. The new lid allowed me to look down through the transparent panel in the driver’s door at the rapidly passing asphalt just inches away—dramatically increasing the sensation of speed.)

By the time my six laps were over and I turned into the pitlane, I was toast. Heart pounding, breathing in gulps, Nomex suit soaked with sweat. The McLaren Senna is an absolutely vicious performance car, with limits as high as anything I’ve ever experienced in my driving career. Yet, amazingly, it’s an absolute sweetheart to drive: smooth and accurate steering, unfailingly predictable chassis, effortless shifting and braking response. Though I did not try the car on the road, I have every expectation that it would be docile enough to be a fine daily driver.

For a car to deliver so much performance—indeed, McLaren has clearly produced one of the quickest road-legal sports cars of all time—yet be so approachable is a staggering achievement. I had my doubts when I first heard about this hugely ambitious project, especially given how much I revere Senna myself. But now, having experienced what the car can do first-hand, I can say this with confidence: Were he alive today, Ayrton Senna would be proud that this remarkable new McLaren bears his name.

2019 McLaren Senna Specifications

ON SALE Fall 2018 PRICE $958,966 (base) (all 500 sold) ENGINE 4.0.L DOHC 32-valve twin-turbo V-8/789 hp @ 7,250 rpm, 590 lb-ft @ 6,700 rpm TRANSMISSION 7-speed dual-clutch automatic LAYOUT 2-door, 2-passenger, mid-engine, RWD coupe EPA MILEAGE N/A L x W x H 186.8 x 77.1 x 48.4 in WHEELBASE 105.0 in WEIGHT 2,900 lb (est) 0-60 MPH 2.7 sec TOP SPEED 211 mph

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[junker-town]

How Georgia beat Oklahoma in a shootout ... by running the dang ball

The scoreboard doesn’t suggest the Dawgs played their style of game in the Rose Bowl, but in a few ways, they did.

Baker Mayfield’s bout with illness notwithstanding, all the questions around Oklahoma’s playoff chances centered around its defense and special teams, which ranked 95th and 56th, respectively, according to S&P+.

But the main issue in the Big 12 had centered around OU’s bizarre insistence on base 3-4 personnel against spread attacks, rather than using a nickel package. Since Oklahoma played the Buckeyes reasonably well early in the year, it seemed having a defense whose best 11 included some larger athletes would pay off in the Playoff.

Then Georgia beat the Sooners 54-48 while running for 317 yards at 9.3 yards a pop. Neither Sonny Michel nor Nick Chubb even needed 15 carries to put up 181 and 145 yards apiece, and they added a combined five rushing touchdowns. The Sooners were run off the field by the duo, and their own 531 yards of offense were all to no avail.

1. The Bulldogs exposed an overlooked weakness in the Sooners’ defense.

While Oklahoma spent most of this season with outside linebackers Obo Okoronkwo (6’1, 240) and Caleb Kelly (6’3, 229) bookending a large defensive line and an inside linebacker tandem of senior Emmanuel Beal (6’, 218) and freshman Kenneth Murray (6’2, 242), its secondary was not at all big.

Senior Steven Parker was a three-year starter and former blue-chip recruit, but he’s always been more of a coverage safety who could drop down and pick up a slot in man coverage, freeing Kelly to play big on the edge. The Sooners’ other starting safety in this game was Will Johnson, a 6’, 185-pound former JUCO CB they converted to nickel and then safety. Oklahoma didn’t have a big enforcer behind its LB corps to help clean up runs, and it didn’t plan to rely on one, either.

Throughout the season, the Oklahoma defense was largely designed to rely on Kelly as an extra man against the run. When Georgia played with two tight ends and accounted for him with a big blocker, that meant it was Johnson or Parker who needed to be the extra man against the run. Oklahoma tried to deal with that by playing them on the edges as well, which caused significant issues when young and inconsistent linebackers didn’t fit the run properly.

On this long TD run by Chubb, Johnson is lined up on the left edge and has to backpedal before he can impact the play when Georgia’s big right side blows open a hole in the Sooners’ defense. Meanwhile, Parker and small cornerbacks Tre Norwood (5’11, 168) and Parnell Motley (6’, 175), are unable to throw their bodies in the path.

On this snap, it’s Parker who’s down on the edge and Johnson deep. Parker (No. 10 on the left) can’t get over after first minding his gap, and Johnson (No. 12) is done in by Chubb’s cut to the outside. Oklahoma cornerbacks getting blocked by receivers and deep safeties having to make impossible open-field tackles were recurring themes.

With this kind of secondary run support, Georgia could have played in double tight end personnel and just run the ball all night for a win.

2. The Bulldogs are designed to hammer a team that can’t hold up in the trenches.

Oklahoma gave up 13 yards per carry and five rushing TDs to Chubb and Michel because of bad run support, but it would still have been five yards a pop if the Sooners had played Roy Williams and Tony Jefferson at safety, because the Sooners were getting mauled up front.

An adjustment the Bulldogs made after losing to Auburn was to get redshirt freshman Ben Cleveland into the mix at right guard. At 6’6 and 340 pounds, he has a of a tackle’s athleticism and a guard’s punch, making Auburn’s attempt to repeat shutting down the Georgia run game difficult. Here he is (No. 74) pancaking the 6’5, 316-pound Derrick Brown of Auburn:

With Cleveland, the entire Georgia front consists of absolute maulers, as well as the tight end and fullback positions. Oklahoma had a solid defensive line in front of some suspect linebackers, but none were ready for the size and physicality of Georgia.

Watch closely on this early run:

At the point of attack, motioned TE Jeb Blazevich pancakes Okoronkwo, receiver Tyler Simmons pancakes Johnson, and pulling left tackle Isaiah Wynn drives Norwood into the dirt.

When it came time for Georgia to finish the game ...

... there was nothing left in OU’s legs. The Sooners were pretty whipped by this point, since they just had a field goal blocked, but you can again see the Dawgs reach blocking Kelly and Isaiah Wynn easily advancing and driving Beal down the field. Even quarterback Jake Fromm (No. 11 up top) is driving Norwood backwards.

3. Also, Kirby Smart figured out how to slow down Oklahoma long enough for this to matter.

The Bulldogs didn’t find any great solutions to the Oklahoma offense, which lit them up for 48 points and over 500 yards of offense. They were also a tad lucky that the Sooners didn’t make greater use of their matchup advantage with flex TE Mark Andrews, who spent much of his day against linebackers. They could have worked pivot and stick routes to him for consistent gains but frequently looked elsewhere.

Maximizing Andrews on standard downs was Oklahoma’s best chance to run out clock and move the chains in the second half, when the run game wasn’t consistent.

The big key for Georgia was playing more nickel personnel and man coverage over the course of the game, after experimenting with two-deep safeties early and getting gashed by play action. Playing man coverage allowed the Bulldogs to force the Sooners to work, and combined with special teams play that consistently left OU with poor field position, it made for a quiet second half from Mayfield and co.

In overtime, UGA made a series of stops to force kick attempts that won the game, thanks to great man coverage and running down OU’s speed in the flats.

The Sooners lost on a pair of play calls that required OU skill athletes to win the corner against All-American Roquan Smith. First, the third-and-2 sweep:

While the horrendous play of the OU defense and special teams were the real culprits, it was an unquestionably an iffy play call to bring out rarely used WR Jordan Smallwood from a rarely used formation and ask him try to and beat Smith. The play is well designed on the chalkboard, as Dimitri Flowers and Andrews are positioned to make key blocks on the edge, but Smith sniffs it out.

Then on second-and-10 on the next possession:

Georgia disguised a blitz well and Mayfield attempted to flip it out to RB Rodney Anderson for an easy gain, but Smith was all over it again. You can’t shut down OU only by playing man coverage and trading punches, but at least you aren’t always on the receiving end, and the Dawgs made plays when it mattered.

Georgia just needed to play good enough defense to force an all-time performance from Mayfield and the Sooners, and the Bulldogs held it off.

On to the final challenge that Kirby Smart’s Georgia somehow skipped over in SEC play ...

[robertkstone]

2019 Volvo XC40 First Drive Review: Redheaded Stepchild

Volvo’s three SUVs are all similarly dressed and obviously related, but line them all up, and the new little 2019 XC40 kind of stands out like a brutha-from-anutha-mutha. Like maybe dad stepped out on the XC60 and XC90’s handsome blonde mom and knocked up a vixen from the other side of the tracks. Short overhangs push the wheels to the corners, the beltline swoops up into a blind-spot-inducing C-pillar, the other vehicles’ LED headlight hammers morph into Thor’s divining rods here, and the XC40 wears the XC90’s grille inside out. It is designed so that you can assign digital keys to the smart phones of family members, loved ones (or perhaps the occasional renter) for car sharing. And the XC40 won’t force you into an arranged marriage involving laborious purchase or lease negotiations with a dealer. You can effectively “swipe right” on an app and hook up with one for as little as a year (learn about Care by Volvo below).

BLACKTOP R-Design models all get a black roof and roof rails, grille, mirrors, and an embossed black R-Design logo on the C-pillar. Momentum trim levels can have a white top for $300.

All of this is carefully planned to steer upscale millennial buyers away from the established players and into Volvo’s open embrace. As the first product on the Geely group’s new CMA small-car platform, the first 40-series car Volvo has offered on a global basis, and the brand’s first entry in the fast-growing premium compact CUV space, expectations for the XC40 are pretty high. So is the body (Volvo asserts best-in-class ground clearance and height) and the equipment specification, with the safety gear list mostly identical to an XC90’s—Pilot Assist (adaptive cruise and lane-centering), City Safety, run-off-road protection and mitigation, cross traffic alert with brake support, and a 360-degree camera system to help drivers maneuver their car into tight parking spaces. To assess its chances of success, we channeled our inner entitled, lazy, selfie-snapper and headed to Barcelona to sample what might be the most youthful Volvo since the 1957 P1900 roadster.

The only trim level available for test-driving was the range-topping T5 AWD R-Design, and we gravitated to a white one with the “molten lava” orange carpet and door insert trim (a $100 option on R-Design models only). As with the exterior, the XC40’s Sensus vertical iPad-like infotainment screen, A/C vent design, gauges, and fonts say Volvo, but the lack of a woodgrain trim option and the techie metal trim—not to mention that bright orange carpet—all reflect Volvo’s desire to lure the youth. Nothing’s getting lost on this floor or in the gigantic door storage pockets, which benefit from ditching the bass speakers from the lower door trim and replacing them with a single big bass speaker mounted to the firewall just under where the right wiper parks. The interior bristles with clever storage solutions. There’s a retractable hook above the glove box described as a place to hang carryout food bags (an owner’s mom could hang her purse there, too). A console trash bin with a lid comes out for easy emptying, and Volvo introduces its first wireless phone-charging doc in the console. The rear cargo floor folds to form a divider, with three hinge points that serve as bag hooks (another pair of bag hooks flank the cargo area for when the floor is left flat). We also like the rigid cargo cover that stows beneath the floor when carrying taller items.

XC40 T5 models are powered by a 2.0-liter turbo that’s rated for 248 hp at 5,500 rpm and 258 lb-ft between 1,800-4,800 rpm. The engines in the senior XC T5s make two more horses and reach peak torque 300 rpm earlier. A T4 front-drive base model will trail the T5 to market, outfitted with a smaller turbocharger producing 14.3 pounds of boost (down from the T5’s 20.0), so output peaks at 185 hp and roughly 195 lb-ft (full specs are not yet available). In other markets, the XC40 will introduce Volvo’s forthcoming I-3 engine making 150 hp and 207 lb-ft, and we could yet see hybrid and/or fully electric variants. The XC40 uses its elder siblings’ eight-speed automatic, ratios and all.

The all-new CMA platform employs struts in front and a fully isolated four-link rear suspension. Base cars get twin-tube shocks, the optional sport suspension (standard on R-Design) gets fancier mono-tube shocks with stiffer damping and spring rates, and an optional Four-C suspension will eventually be available with continuously controlled damping courtesy of Tenneco valves on Öhlins dampers. In another departure from SPA practice, the electric power steering system’s electric motor moves the steering rack via a second pinion instead of via parallel belt-drive and worm gears. The effort map looks like a deep notch, ramping up quickly just off center in each direction. Base cars get 18-inch wheels, 19s and 20s are optional, all shod in all-season tires for the U.S. There’s a 21-inch accessory wheel that gets summer tires.

FLAGGED The first 5,000 XC40s will feature this little rubberized Swedish flag, adhered to the clamshell hood on the driver’s side and echoing the cloth one that’s been affixed to Volvo seats for years.

So how does it feel, zipping around the twisting Catalonian roads below Montserat? Compared with an XC60 T6 AWD sampled on these very same roads in May, it’s considerably lighter, more compact, and nimbler. Volvo estimates our XC40 will hit 60 mph in 6.2 seconds, and indeed it feels nearly as quick as our last XC60 T6, which hit 60 in 6.1 seconds. Clearly trimming 600 pounds is roughly equivalent to adding a supercharger, as our XC40’s engine is towing just a fraction of a pound-per-horsepower more weight than its big stepbrother. Bury the throttle to pass a slow-moving local, and revs build quickly and class-competitively, but we wish the engineers had better differentiated this engine’s sound signature. When it’s on the boil, it has the exact same angry-horseflies buzz one hears in the big-boy XCs. Oh well, crank up the Harman Kardon jams.

As in 60- and 90-series Volvos, the driver can select between Eco, Comfort, Dynamic, Off-road, and Individual driving modes that tailor the throttle and transmission response, brake and steering feel, all-wheel-drive torque bias, and damping level (when so equipped). Sadly, XC40s trade the console-mounted diamond-milled rotary push knob for a plain black button on the center stack. Dynamic mode brightens up throttle response and sharpens transmission logic quite noticeably, but any variation in steering or brake feel were too subtle to notice on this drive. At one point an aggressively driven older VW GTI gave chase, and we were impressed by the flat cornering and high levels of grip afforded by the R-Design’s standard sport suspension. Of course our Euro-spec cars were shod in optional 20-inch Pirelli P Zero summer rubber. America gets standard all-season fitments, so we should expect more tire squeal and fewer cornering gs. None of the bumps we encountered with these sport suspenders threatened to knock passengers’ phones from their hands. If our drive raised one caution it’s on the fuel economy front. If the computer’s self-reporting is to be believed, we managed just 22 mpg over 180 miles or so, probably half of which was gentler highway cruising.

Customer deliveries are expected in the second quarter of 2018. Before then we’ll ask our own millennial staffers to rank this wild Swede amongst its Eurasian peers, the BMW X1, Audi Q3, Infiniti QX30, and Mercedes GLA-Class. Their eagerness to assume the task might be our first clue to the vehicle’s success.

NORWEGIAN WOULD? The interior manages Scandinavian sleekness without wood. It looks upscale despite conventional starter and mode-select buttons. The by-wire shifter requires two taps forward or backward to engage R or D as in T8 Volvos.

Care by Volvo—Netflix for Premium CUVs

Today’s harried millennial has no appetite for the hassle of dickering to buy or lease a vehicle, cross-shopping insurance, contemplating maintenance plans, etc. He or she just wants to pick the colors, twiddle a smartphone screen, and drive off. That’s all it takes to download a movie or TV series from Netflix or Amazon, and now as little as 10 minutes of phone-fiddling can also “download” a nice Volvo XC40 (T5 AWD Momentum trim with five popular options) for $600/month or a nicer Volvo XC40 (loaded R Design) for $700. During that time, Care partner Liberty Mutual Insurance assesses your risk profile and either accepts or declines you for its $500-deductible standard insurance plan—there’s no discounting or surcharging based on your location or driving record. The contract is for two years at 15,000 miles per year, but after just 12 months the car can be swapped for another one by signing a new 24-month contract. These mono-spec cars will be stocked and distributed by Volvo and delivered and serviced by local dealers. All the subscriber pays for is gas and local taxes/fees (this is an ownership model, not a rental model like Cadillac’s Maven). The first Care subscriptions will be offered in March, selling on convenience, not lower overall costs.

Learn more about Care by Volvo here

2019 Volvo XC40 BASE PRICE $34,195-$38,695 VEHICLE LAYOUT Front-engine, FWD/AWD, 5-pass, 4-door SUV ENGINES 2.0L/185-hp/195-lb-ft (est) turbocharged DOHC 16-valve I-4; 2.0L/248-hp/258-lb-ft turbocharged DOHC 16-valve I-4 TRANSMISSION 8-speed automatic CURB WEIGHT 3,450-3,550 lb (est) WHEELBASE 106.4 in LENGTH X WIDTH X HEIGHT 174.2 x 73.3 x 65.0 in 0-60 MPH 6.2-7.0 sec (MT est) EPA CITY/HWY/COMB FUEL ECON Not yet rated IFTTT

[jesusvasser]

Prototype Drive: 2019 McLaren Senna

SILVERSTONE CIRCUIT, England — Five minutes after intentionally cutting-short my first six-lap driving session on one of the world’s fastest Grand Prix tracks, I excused myself to the pitlane bathroom and unceremoniously tossed up my entire English breakfast. Mind you, I’d been feeling dicey all morning—probably a bad egg—but I’m quite sure that, under normal circumstances, I would’ve managed to soldier through without any restroom histrionics necessary.

This was no normal morning: I was test-driving a prototype of one of the most uncompromising, technologically advanced, and violently quick supercars ever built, the all-new 2019 McLaren Senna. Trust me: Even without an aperitif of food poisoning, the Senna is such a whirlwind of g forces, so Krakatoa-like in its speed and braking power, in only a lap or two it could easily reduce a NASA astronaut to a trembling, babbling impersonation of Linda Blair.

Back in February, when I first traveled to England for the unveiling of the Senna prototype, I remarked on the considerable, seemingly impossible challenge McLaren had undertaken in attempting to produce a road car worthy of its namesake, the late three-time Formula 1 world champion Ayrton Senna. “Anything less,” I wrote then, “would be a discredit to the Brazilian maestro.” That was putting it mildly. The stakes for McLaren cannot be overstated: In the history of motorsports, Ayrton Senna is one of the all-time icons, arguably the greatest race car driver who ever lived. In his home country of Brazil he’s a national hero. In Japan—which produced the Honda engines that powered his McLaren F1 cars to all three of his world titles—Senna is revered as a god. Even a “very good” effort would have been viewed as a failure. No, to be a “Senna,” McLaren’s new supercar had to be spectacular.

It is. I had an inkling of that when I first reviewed the specs and technical details of the car back at the February reveal. On paper at least, the Senna looked savage. But it was within minutes of arriving at the Silverstone Circuit for my test of the car that I truly knew I was about to experience a performance monster, a machine possibly unlike any other road-legal vehicle I’d ever driven. “Because you haven’t been around this track before,” said one of the McLaren handlers as our small group gathered in the pitlane, “first you’ll go out for some warm-up laps in a McLaren 720S.” Uh, okay … so we’re going to warm up in a 720-horsepower, 211-mph exotic car that just won a coveted spot on the 2018 Automobile All-Stars list? Just how fast is this Senna thing, anyway? For a moment I looked down at the fireproof Nomex suit McLaren had loaned me for the day and wondered, “Hmmm. Maybe I should wear two.”

Do not mistake the Senna for an upgraded 720S. While the two cars share some basic hardware, the Senna is an entirely new automobile—the new pinnacle of McLaren’s Ultimate Series range. Unlike the hybrid powerplant in the McLaren P1, the Senna uses the same basic twin-turbo 4.0-liter V-8 found in the 720S—but with such improvements as a revised air intake and inlet manifold fed by a dramatic roof-mounted scoop, revised cams, and dual high-flow fuel pumps. Power climbs to 789 hp at 7,250 rpm and 590 pound-feet of torque (a boost of 22 lb-ft) at 6,700 rpm. A slightly reworked seven-speed dual-clutch paddle shifter carries over from the 720S.

“But wait,” you say. “The gas/electric hybrid powertrain in the P1 made a combined system output of 903 horsepower. Isn’t the Senna’s 789 hp a step down?” Perhaps on a long stretch of unlimited autobahn, where the P1 could theoretically push to 217 mph versus “only” 211 mph for the Senna, you’d have a case. But you’d be missing the point: McLaren built the Senna to be the ultimate roadgoing track car. And on the racetrack, the only venue where it can truly strut its stuff, the Senna leaves the P1 sucking its super-heated exhaust fumes.

Consider a few comparisons. With its towering, constantly adjusting rear wing, movable front aero blades, and purposefully sculptured bodywork, at speed the Senna can produce nearly 1,800 pounds of combined downforce—40 percent more than the P1. Almost every piece of the Senna’s bodywork—including McLaren’s latest Monocage III tub—is made of lightweight, super-strong carbon fiber. Even the nuts and bolts have been fussed over to be 33 percent lighter. Thus, the Senna—at about 2,900 pounds curb weight—undercuts the P1 by roughly 400 pounds. And then there’s this: Going into the famous Stowe right-hander at the end of Silverstone’s long Hangar Straight, McLaren’s test drivers are braking 25 meters later in the Senna than in the P1. Next time you’re inside a football stadium, take a look at how far the 25-yard-line is from the end zone. Yeah, it’s a lot. As a track car, the Senna is simply in a different league.

After my morning breakfast cleanse I felt fine when the time arrived for my afternoon lapping session in the Senna. I also was beginning to feel comfortable with the line around the track. We were using Silverstone’s truncated, 1.9-mile “International Circuit,” but that still included the Hangar Straight, Stowe corner, and Abbey, a turn-one right-hander taken—in the Senna—in fourth gear after the briefest dab of the brakes from 150 mph. Time to give McLaren’s new wondercar a good push.

Riding shotgun was McLaren test driver and current British Touring Car racer Josh Cook (a brave soul indeed). During our morning sessions in the 720S and the Senna, Cook had kept our helmet-to-helmet intercoms busy with advice on braking markers, turn-in points, and potential pitfalls. For instance, carry too much speed into the long, long right-hand Club Corner leading onto the International Straight, and you could easily spin into the inside wall and end up on the front page of London’s Daily Mail: “Yank Stank! Pinhead Pulverizes Priceless Prototype!”

After a lap to warm up the tires, coming out of Abbey I pushed my right foot flat to the floor and instantly the air was gone from my lungs. The acceleration of the Senna is insane (for you numbers types, that means a quarter-mile time of just 9.9 seconds). As I crested the hill into the quick left-hand Farm Curve, Cook was in my earphones: “More throttle!” We were already traveling plenty fast but, still in fourth gear, I dutifully pressed deeper into the gas and, impossibly, the Senna just bit down and hammered through the bend without so much as a bobble. Such is the frightening magic of working with a high-downforce, active-aero car: more speed produces more downforce, which produces more speed and more downforce! You wonder, will the cycle ever end? (Well, yeah, eventually it will—at which point you’ll find yourself launching straight off to Scotland.) Suffice it to say, in my second six-lap stint I never got close to that almighty limit. It was hard enough to keep my head upright as it was.

To produce the cornering force of a tetherball smacked by an angry sixth-grader, the Senna relies upon a symphony of systems working in perfect synchronicity. The rear wing moves constantly; under braking, it pops up fully for maximum drag. On the Hangar Straight, it would essentially flatten-out into what an F1 car would feature as DRS (Drag Reduction System) mode—allowing the Senna to slip through the air as effortlessly as possible. In-between, the wing works in-concert with the front aero blades (which also constantly adjust in angle) to maximize cornering balance and grip. Also incorporated into the bodywork: a “Gurney flap” above each rear tire, which creates a low-pressure void in back that helps suck hot air through the huge radiators mounted in front of each rear wheel. The carbon-fiber splitter under the Senna’s nose is so huge it could almost pass for a locomotive’s cow catcher.

The aerodynamic aids enhance the prowess of the RaceActive Chassis Control II system, an evolution of the P1’s suspension upgraded with revised software. In Race mode, the suspension lowers a dramatic 1.5 inches closer to the asphalt. And then there are the incredible brakes: lightweight carbon-ceramics, each disc requiring seven months to produce and operating at reduced temperatures for greater resistance to fade. The huge binders sit inside McLaren’s first-ever center-locking wheels, the single, F1-like bolt allowing an odd number (nine) of spokes, further saving weight. Each wheel wears a high-performance Pirelli Trofeo R tire specially developed for the Senna.

The cockpit is a cinch to enter, thanks to the large opening afforded by the upward-swinging doors, and inside awaits a space of brilliant minimalism. The carbon-fiber seat shells wear just enough pads for driver comfort and support; Senna buyers (every one of the 500 cars has already been sold) can have their seats custom-fitted. The gear-selection and launch-control buttons move fore-and-aft with the driver’s seat. The Alcantara-wrapped three-spoke wheel is completely devoid of buttons, switches, or other distractions. Engine start/stop, chassis-mode selection, and even the door-opening switches are mounted in a pod above the rear-view mirror. A folding digital display screen glides up into position when you’re ready for tachometer and other info. The view to the front is sensational—almost as if you’re sitting in a single-seater.

Hammering out of a tight left-right chicane and onto the Hangar Straight, the Senna’s digital speedometer spooled up like a bathroom scale being stepped-on by an elephant. I was reaching the top of fifth gear, just more than 160 mph, before pounding onto the binders for Stowe. The stopping force was like slamming into a parked dump truck. Yet every time, Cook would say calmly into the intercom: “Next lap, try braking even later.” On my final lap, going into Stowe I braked so late all the nearby pubs closed—and still the Senna turned-in without so much as a hiccup. The car’s combination of grip and poise is nothing short of mind-blowing. (As an interesting side note: For my second lapping session I switched from a full-face helmet to an open-face one. The new lid allowed me to look down through the transparent panel in the driver’s door at the rapidly passing asphalt just inches away—dramatically increasing the sensation of speed.)

By the time my six laps were over and I turned into the pitlane, I was toast. Heart pounding, breathing in gulps, Nomex suit soaked with sweat. The McLaren Senna is an absolutely vicious performance car, with limits as high as anything I’ve ever experienced in my driving career. Yet, amazingly, it’s an absolute sweetheart to drive: smooth and accurate steering, unfailingly predictable chassis, effortless shifting and braking response. Though I did not try the car on the road, I have every expectation that it would be docile enough to be a fine daily driver.

For a car to deliver so much performance—indeed, McLaren has clearly produced one of the quickest road-legal sports cars of all time—yet be so approachable is a staggering achievement. I had my doubts when I first heard about this hugely ambitious project, especially given how much I revere Senna myself. But now, having experienced what the car can do first-hand, I can say this with confidence: Were he alive today, Ayrton Senna would be proud that this remarkable new McLaren bears his name.

2019 McLaren Senna Specifications

ON SALE Fall 2018 PRICE $958,966 (base) (all 500 sold) ENGINE 4.0.L DOHC 32-valve twin-turbo V-8/789 hp @ 7,250 rpm, 590 lb-ft @ 6,700 rpm TRANSMISSION 7-speed dual-clutch automatic LAYOUT 2-door, 2-passenger, mid-engine, RWD coupe EPA MILEAGE N/A L x W x H 186.8 x 77.1 x 48.4 in WHEELBASE 105.0 in WEIGHT 2,900 lb (est) 0-60 MPH 2.7 sec TOP SPEED 211 mph

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[eddiejpoplar]

First Drive: 2018 Acura RLX Sport Hybrid

WEST HOLLYWOOD, California—With a quick strike of what I assume was a hammer and chisel, the infamous beak is struck from yet another Acura product. For 2018, the Japanese premium automaker refreshed its RLX flagship sedan, sculpting a shiny new face and cramming a handful of updated tech into the cushy four-door. To make sure the rhinoplasty is more than just skin-deep, I spent some quality time with the range-topping RLX Sport Hybird out on the mean streets of WeHo.

The outgoing RLX Sport Hybrid was an inoffensive, if a bit staid way to save a buck or two on fuel without dipping your foot too far out of the luxury (or premium) pool or completely giving up the conveniences of internal combustion. Three years on, Acura returned to the drafting board and sketched a new schnozz, replacing the old silver triangular insert with the same pseudo-pentagonal grille from the recently redesigned MDX and TLX that appears ripped straight from the pixels of a Tempest game.

To compliment the new face, Acura reshaped the hood as well, now wearing prominent ridges near the outer edges. There’s a new rump as well, sporting sharp-looking LED taillights and a subtle black lower diffuser with larger exhaust outlets. Accentuating the redesigned bodywork are two new paint colors, Majestic Black Pearl and Brilliant Red Metallic, along with new wheel options. Overall, it’s not as clean as the Germans, but it’s much more visually striking than anything else in the segment from Korea or Japan.

The powertrain mostly carries over from the outgoing RLX, save for a nifty new 10-speed automatic transmission for the regular, non-electrified RLX. Stick to the base level, and that new box is hooked up to the same naturally aspirated 3.5-liter V-6 as before, putting down 310 hp and 272 lb-ft of torque to the front wheels. Hop up to the Sport Hybrid, and the 3.5-liter is augmented by three electric motors that combine to create an all-wheel-drive system. These NSX-sourced motors push the total output up to a respectable 377 hp and 341 lb-ft of torque, unchanged from the last year. The ten-speed is absent from the hybrid, but in this case, the seven-speed DCT is responsive enough that we’re not bemoaning the lack of the Honda-sourced ten-speed.

Along with the powertrain, the speed remains the same as well. Merging onto busy California freeways was about as entertaining as it gets in the segment, hitting 60 mph from a dead stop in what feels like the low five-second mark. Once you’re through hustling, it settles into a cushy cruise, soaking up rotten, disjointed sections of road without levying much fuss on the passengers. Of particular note is the hybrid powertrain’s ability at stalling the engine at speed, maintaining momentum with the electric motors. Once a little gas is applied, the engine kicks back over seamlessly.

Steering is light and neutral, offering a touch more feel than its often overboosted segment-mates. The same cannot be said about the brakes, whose regen capabilities led to the all-too-familiar pedal numbness and overly aggressive engagement. If you’re hoping to explore the “Sport” portion of the Sport Hybrid badge, don’t get too aggressive with the wheel. Out on the famous Snake portion of Mulholland Highway, the SH was out of its element. Both the rear-wheel-steer and the torque vectoring system were helpful, but the chassis was at the mercy of the standard all-season tires, screeching and understeering their way through the route. Slap on even some moderately performance-oriented rubber, and the Sport Hybrid should shape-up.

Inside, the changes are much subtler. Updates for 2018 include updated materials, a new Espresso interior color, new sport seats for the hybrid, and deviated stitching. I loved the sport seats, but was not a big fan of the carry-over infotainment system, avoiding the TLX’s new system with Apple Car Play and Android Auto. Still, aside from a few rather Honda-ish components, it was a nice place to spend stuck in traffic while I put the new Traffic Jam Assist system to the test. Essentially, the car combines lane keep assist and adaptive cruise control to “follow” the car stuck in front of you, making congested commutes much, much easier to swallow. Playing passenger for the second half of the drive, I did not differentiate the system from my partner’s driving until he told me Traffic Assist was doing most of the work.

The price for all this hybrid scuttle starts at $62,865, a $1,950 bump over the outgoing RLX SH. However, the Advance package is standard, adding the top-tier Krell sound system, heated steering wheel, and heated and ventilated seats in the front, among other things. Crunching the numbers, that increase is transforms into a $4,050 discount, at least if you were planning on outfitting your 2017 with the now-standard Advance pack.

It’s far from the most dynamic entry in the mid-size premium and luxury segment, but it’s certainly one of the more interesting of the hybrid bunch. For wide-open roads or freeways slogged with traffic, the 2018 Acura RLX Sport Hybrid is one of the best options for quick, comfortable commutes.

2018 Acura RLX Sport Hybrid Specifications

ON SALE Now PRICE $62,865 (base) ENGINE 3.5L SOHC 24-valve V-6/310 hp @ 6,500 rpm, 273 lb-ft @ 4,700 rpm plus front electric motor/47 hp @ 3,000 rpm, 109 lb-ft @ 500-2,000 rom and dual rear electric motors/36 hp @ 4,000 and 54 lb-ft @ 0-2,000 rpm; combined/377 hp, 341 lb-ft TRANSMISSION 7-speed dual-clutch automatic LAYOUT 4-door, 4-passenger, front-engine, AWD sedan EPA MILEAGE 28/29 mpg (city/hwy) L x W x H 198.1 x 74.4 x 57.7 in WHEELBASE 112.2 in WEIGHT 4,380 lb 0-60 MPH 5.1 sec (est) TOP SPEED N/A

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[jonathanbelloblog]

First Drive: 2018 Acura RLX Sport Hybrid

WEST HOLLYWOOD, California—With a quick strike of what I assume was a hammer and chisel, the infamous beak is struck from yet another Acura product. For 2018, the Japanese premium automaker refreshed its RLX flagship sedan, sculpting a shiny new face and cramming a handful of updated tech into the cushy four-door. To make sure the rhinoplasty is more than just skin-deep, I spent some quality time with the range-topping RLX Sport Hybird out on the mean streets of WeHo.

The outgoing RLX Sport Hybrid was an inoffensive, if a bit staid way to save a buck or two on fuel without dipping your foot too far out of the luxury (or premium) pool or completely giving up the conveniences of internal combustion. Three years on, Acura returned to the drafting board and sketched a new schnozz, replacing the old silver triangular insert with the same pseudo-pentagonal grille from the recently redesigned MDX and TLX that appears ripped straight from the pixels of a Tempest game.

To compliment the new face, Acura reshaped the hood as well, now wearing prominent ridges near the outer edges. There’s a new rump as well, sporting sharp-looking LED taillights and a subtle black lower diffuser with larger exhaust outlets. Accentuating the redesigned bodywork are two new paint colors, Majestic Black Pearl and Brilliant Red Metallic, along with new wheel options. Overall, it’s not as clean as the Germans, but it’s much more visually striking than anything else in the segment from Korea or Japan.

The powertrain mostly carries over from the outgoing RLX, save for a nifty new 10-speed automatic transmission for the regular, non-electrified RLX. Stick to the base level, and that new box is hooked up to the same naturally aspirated 3.5-liter V-6 as before, putting down 310 hp and 272 lb-ft of torque to the front wheels. Hop up to the Sport Hybrid, and the 3.5-liter is augmented by three electric motors that combine to create an all-wheel-drive system. These NSX-sourced motors push the total output up to a respectable 377 hp and 341 lb-ft of torque, unchanged from the last year. The ten-speed is absent from the hybrid, but in this case, the seven-speed DCT is responsive enough that we’re not bemoaning the lack of the Honda-sourced ten-speed.

Along with the powertrain, the speed remains the same as well. Merging onto busy California freeways was about as entertaining as it gets in the segment, hitting 60 mph from a dead stop in what feels like the low five-second mark. Once you’re through hustling, it settles into a cushy cruise, soaking up rotten, disjointed sections of road without levying much fuss on the passengers. Of particular note is the hybrid powertrain’s ability at stalling the engine at speed, maintaining momentum with the electric motors. Once a little gas is applied, the engine kicks back over seamlessly.

Steering is light and neutral, offering a touch more feel than its often overboosted segment-mates. The same cannot be said about the brakes, whose regen capabilities led to the all-too-familiar pedal numbness and overly aggressive engagement. If you’re hoping to explore the “Sport” portion of the Sport Hybrid badge, don’t get too aggressive with the wheel. Out on the famous Snake portion of Mulholland Highway, the SH was out of its element. Both the rear-wheel-steer and the torque vectoring system were helpful, but the chassis was at the mercy of the standard all-season tires, screeching and understeering their way through the route. Slap on even some moderately performance-oriented rubber, and the Sport Hybrid should shape-up.

Inside, the changes are much subtler. Updates for 2018 include updated materials, a new Espresso interior color, new sport seats for the hybrid, and deviated stitching. I loved the sport seats, but was not a big fan of the carry-over infotainment system, avoiding the TLX’s new system with Apple Car Play and Android Auto. Still, aside from a few rather Honda-ish components, it was a nice place to spend stuck in traffic while I put the new Traffic Jam Assist system to the test. Essentially, the car combines lane keep assist and adaptive cruise control to “follow” the car stuck in front of you, making congested commutes much, much easier to swallow. Playing passenger for the second half of the drive, I did not differentiate the system from my partner’s driving until he told me Traffic Assist was doing most of the work.

The price for all this hybrid scuttle starts at $62,865, a $1,950 bump over the outgoing RLX SH. However, the Advance package is standard, adding the top-tier Krell sound system, heated steering wheel, and heated and ventilated seats in the front, among other things. Crunching the numbers, that increase is transforms into a $4,050 discount, at least if you were planning on outfitting your 2017 with the now-standard Advance pack.

It’s far from the most dynamic entry in the mid-size premium and luxury segment, but it’s certainly one of the more interesting of the hybrid bunch. For wide-open roads or freeways slogged with traffic, the 2018 Acura RLX Sport Hybrid is one of the best options for quick, comfortable commutes.

2018 Acura RLX Sport Hybrid Specifications

ON SALE Now PRICE $62,865 (base) ENGINE 3.5L SOHC 24-valve V-6/310 hp @ 6,500 rpm, 273 lb-ft @ 4,700 rpm plus front electric motor/47 hp @ 3,000 rpm, 109 lb-ft @ 500-2,000 rom and dual rear electric motors/36 hp @ 4,000 and 54 lb-ft @ 0-2,000 rpm; combined/377 hp, 341 lb-ft TRANSMISSION 7-speed dual-clutch automatic LAYOUT 4-door, 4-passenger, front-engine, AWD sedan EPA MILEAGE 28/29 mpg (city/hwy) L x W x H 198.1 x 74.4 x 57.7 in WHEELBASE 112.2 in WEIGHT 4,380 lb 0-60 MPH 5.1 sec (est) TOP SPEED N/A

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[jesusvasser]

First Drive: 2018 Acura RLX Sport Hybrid

WEST HOLLYWOOD, California—With a quick strike of what I assume was a hammer and chisel, the infamous beak is struck from yet another Acura product. For 2018, the Japanese premium automaker refreshed its RLX flagship sedan, sculpting a shiny new face and cramming a handful of updated tech into the cushy four-door. To make sure the rhinoplasty is more than just skin-deep, I spent some quality time with the range-topping RLX Sport Hybird out on the mean streets of WeHo.

The outgoing RLX Sport Hybrid was an inoffensive, if a bit staid way to save a buck or two on fuel without dipping your foot too far out of the luxury (or premium) pool or completely giving up the conveniences of internal combustion. Three years on, Acura returned to the drafting board and sketched a new schnozz, replacing the old silver triangular insert with the same pseudo-pentagonal grille from the recently redesigned MDX and TLX that appears ripped straight from the pixels of a Tempest game.

To compliment the new face, Acura reshaped the hood as well, now wearing prominent ridges near the outer edges. There’s a new rump as well, sporting sharp-looking LED taillights and a subtle black lower diffuser with larger exhaust outlets. Accentuating the redesigned bodywork are two new paint colors, Majestic Black Pearl and Brilliant Red Metallic, along with new wheel options. Overall, it’s not as clean as the Germans, but it’s much more visually striking than anything else in the segment from Korea or Japan.

The powertrain mostly carries over from the outgoing RLX, save for a nifty new 10-speed automatic transmission for the regular, non-electrified RLX. Stick to the base level, and that new box is hooked up to the same naturally aspirated 3.5-liter V-6 as before, putting down 310 hp and 272 lb-ft of torque to the front wheels. Hop up to the Sport Hybrid, and the 3.5-liter is augmented by three electric motors that combine to create an all-wheel-drive system. These NSX-sourced motors push the total output up to a respectable 377 hp and 341 lb-ft of torque, unchanged from the last year. The ten-speed is absent from the hybrid, but in this case, the seven-speed DCT is responsive enough that we’re not bemoaning the lack of the Honda-sourced ten-speed.

Along with the powertrain, the speed remains the same as well. Merging onto busy California freeways was about as entertaining as it gets in the segment, hitting 60 mph from a dead stop in what feels like the low five-second mark. Once you’re through hustling, it settles into a cushy cruise, soaking up rotten, disjointed sections of road without levying much fuss on the passengers. Of particular note is the hybrid powertrain’s ability at stalling the engine at speed, maintaining momentum with the electric motors. Once a little gas is applied, the engine kicks back over seamlessly.

Steering is light and neutral, offering a touch more feel than its often overboosted segment-mates. The same cannot be said about the brakes, whose regen capabilities led to the all-too-familiar pedal numbness and overly aggressive engagement. If you’re hoping to explore the “Sport” portion of the Sport Hybrid badge, don’t get too aggressive with the wheel. Out on the famous Snake portion of Mulholland Highway, the SH was out of its element. Both the rear-wheel-steer and the torque vectoring system were helpful, but the chassis was at the mercy of the standard all-season tires, screeching and understeering their way through the route. Slap on even some moderately performance-oriented rubber, and the Sport Hybrid should shape-up.

Inside, the changes are much subtler. Updates for 2018 include updated materials, a new Espresso interior color, new sport seats for the hybrid, and deviated stitching. I loved the sport seats, but was not a big fan of the carry-over infotainment system, avoiding the TLX’s new system with Apple Car Play and Android Auto. Still, aside from a few rather Honda-ish components, it was a nice place to spend stuck in traffic while I put the new Traffic Jam Assist system to the test. Essentially, the car combines lane keep assist and adaptive cruise control to “follow” the car stuck in front of you, making congested commutes much, much easier to swallow. Playing passenger for the second half of the drive, I did not differentiate the system from my partner’s driving until he told me Traffic Assist was doing most of the work.

The price for all this hybrid scuttle starts at $62,865, a $1,950 bump over the outgoing RLX SH. However, the Advance package is standard, adding the top-tier Krell sound system, heated steering wheel, and heated and ventilated seats in the front, among other things. Crunching the numbers, that increase is transforms into a $4,050 discount, at least if you were planning on outfitting your 2017 with the now-standard Advance pack.

It’s far from the most dynamic entry in the mid-size premium and luxury segment, but it’s certainly one of the more interesting of the hybrid bunch. For wide-open roads or freeways slogged with traffic, the 2018 Acura RLX Sport Hybrid is one of the best options for quick, comfortable commutes.

2018 Acura RLX Sport Hybrid Specifications

ON SALE Now PRICE $62,865 (base) ENGINE 3.5L SOHC 24-valve V-6/310 hp @ 6,500 rpm, 273 lb-ft @ 4,700 rpm plus front electric motor/47 hp @ 3,000 rpm, 109 lb-ft @ 500-2,000 rom and dual rear electric motors/36 hp @ 4,000 and 54 lb-ft @ 0-2,000 rpm; combined/377 hp, 341 lb-ft TRANSMISSION 7-speed dual-clutch automatic LAYOUT 4-door, 4-passenger, front-engine, AWD sedan EPA MILEAGE 28/29 mpg (city/hwy) L x W x H 198.1 x 74.4 x 57.7 in WHEELBASE 112.2 in WEIGHT 4,380 lb 0-60 MPH 5.1 sec (est) TOP SPEED N/A

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