I’m sure it was my dear old mama who used to say that a kilogram saved is a horsepower earned. Or maybe it was Lotus founder Colin Chapman. It was somebody important, anyway, and regardless of attribution, it is, along with the “too much is never enough” axiom, one of the cardinal rules of automotive performance.
Before Lotus, race cars were enormous beasts, their girth predicated by the monstrous engines that engineers then thought necessary for performance. Post Chapman, the racing world flipped on its axis, light became right and the world of performance cars changed forever.
Though a great distance — in time, sophistication and money, not to mention design philosophy — separates anything Chapman engineered during his Lotus heydays and the great rolling steamroller of luxury automobiles that is Audi these days, there’s a little of him in the latter’s new R8 GT Spyder. Indeed, the fervour with which the mid-engine supercar’s engineers chipped away at its avoirdupois would have impressed his “adding power makes you faster on the straights; subtracting weight makes you faster everywhere” sensibilities.
Since the basic R8’s chassis is already constructed of lightweight aluminum, Audi was going to have to work hard to significantly reduce its 1,625-kilogram curb weight. But dig deep it did, and the new GT’s weight-saving list reads like a compendium of tricks Red Bull might pull to ensure Sebastian Vettel’s reign atop Formula One continues unabated. Thinner body panels saved a few kilograms. The fixed — as opposed to electronically deployable — carbon-fibre rear wing saved a few more. Even the windshield’s thinner just so Audi could subtract a few precious grams. The brake system is lighter. Ditto the battery. My favourite is that the GT’s floor mats were lightened — no word on whether they’re made of some space-age material or are helium infused. All that matters is that the R8 GT Spyder, humongous V10 engine and all, weighs in at a very svelte 1,540 kg. And did I mention that all-wheel-drive is included?
Even Chapman would agree that light weight and more horsepower is an even more delicious combination. So, said 5.2-litre FSI V10 gains 35 horsepower over the base R8’s for a grand total of 560. That makes for a power-to-weight ratio of barely 2.75 kg per hp. Anything under three is considered seriously supercar class. Even if you don’t recognize that particular statistic as impressive, the way the car plays with Newtonian physics is.
Audi says that the only change required for the power bulk-up was some engine management alterations. None of the traditional free-flowing exhaust and intake tricks were required. Ditto camshaft timing or compression ratio, just a new circuit board and the V10 screams even more deliciously. Current V10 owners may want to take note.
Whatever the source, however, what really matters is that the R8 GT is damned quick. In fact, Audi claims it thunders to 100 kilometres an hour in just 3.8 seconds. That may be an eye blink slower than the equally endowed 911 Turbo, but remember that a good portion of the Porsche’s advantage comes from its sophisticated Launch Control system. In real life, the two cars would seem well matched — except in the symphonic department.
Here, 10 high-revving pistons always trump six turbocharged cylinders, no matter how talented the conductor. The GT’s rendition of the V10 screams to a positively heady 8,750 rpm, an incredible figure for a motor that displaces 5.2L. Along the way, those 10 pistons sing a tune that fools you with its soothing Barry White idle only to set your nerves all a-jangle when its screams into a full Darby Mills (I may like my musical references obscure, but if you YouTube The Headpins’ Don’t It Make You Feel, you’ll get a fair impression of what an R8 GT sounds like just before the rev limiter chimes in). Along the way, there are off-idle burbles, petulant little backfires as the ignition cuts out between gearshifts and a howl that makes you think Chester Arthur Burnett (another obscure musical reference here) has been resurrected just for an automotive encore.
Despite all these superlatives, the R8 GT Spyder has a serious flaw. Indeed, it is the same shortcoming that has plagued the R8 since its introduction — the R-tronic self-shifting, computer-controlled six-speed transmission is simply not a match for the R8’s sophistication. Unlike other manumatic transmissions of its ilk (including those in every other Audi), the R8’s R-tronic has but a single clutch and, when operated by the computer actuators, it’s a sluggish affair. Upshifts, especially in the lower gears, are hesitant, downshifts are abrupt and it often feels as if it has a mind of its own, the timing of its gear changes seemingly random. By comparison, the seven-speed PDK dual-clutch affair in Porsche’s 911 is the epitome of sophistication and performance.
Although Audi will claim the reason it perseveres with this tranny is that there is no suitable substitute that can handle all the V10’s power and all-wheel-drive system, in reality the reason is far more capitalistic. Like those sorrowful Maple Leafs, whose management knows it doesn’t need to win to fill seats, Audi knows it can sell every R8 it produces, balky transmission or not. Unfortunately, unlike in the base Spyder, the six-speed manual is not available.
Despite the wonky tranny, the GT Spyder, like all R8s, is a marvellous beast. In the GT’s case, its acceleration is a bit more fierce, the handling — thanks to a 10-millimetre reduction in ride height — is a little more taut and there’s enough carbon fibre to satisfy an F1 fetishist. But the key attraction is still that the R8 is the sensible supercar. For all its howling exhaust and tire-screeching performance, it’s a comfortable, calm and — transmission aside — sophisticated machine that exacts little penalty for its charms.
It does, however, cost a small fortune. A whopping $55,000 more than a basic R8 convertible, the $242,000 GT Spyder’s sticker does seem a lot of money for the performance gains, no matter how meticulously engineered. What all those extra loonies does buy, though, is exclusivity. Audi is making just 333 GT Spyders, of which Canada will only get 15 (my tester was number 13; I drove carefully).
For the person who can afford such princely sums, such exclusivity will mean much more than a Chapmanesque 85-kg weight loss — or the extra 35 ponies for that matter.
