Snap oversteer, or liftoff oversteer, is the tendency of a vehicle — usually a fast one, possibly with a rear- or mid-engine placement — to lose rear grip, in spectacular fashion, when the accelerator is released around a corner. I’m not sure there’s an antonym for that term, (progressive oversteer?) but if there was it would have something to do with the McLaren 600LT Spider, which has the smoothest, gentlest, easiest-to-catch oversteer that I’ve ever experienced. The Sport Series vehicle—remember, McLaren has Sports, Super and Ultimate Series—is available now at a downright bargain of $256,500. And, you might be able to get one. McLaren isn’t capping production of its latest Longtail; it will be building them for the next 12 months.
Let’s get the 600LT Spider’s bonafides out of the way first. Like the 570S Spider it’s based on, the 600LT gets a 3.8-liter twin-turbocharged V8 making, you guessed it, 592 hp (600 pfederstarke) at 7,500 rpm and 457 lb-ft of torque at 5,500-6,500 rpm. That power goes through McLaren’s seven-speed dual-clutch gearbox and to the rear wheels but NOT through a limited-slip differential. How, you ask? Braking.
The 600LT’s ESC (electronic stability control) system operates independently of the power and handling drive modes, which we’ll get to later. The three-tiered system (on, dynamic and off) is complimented by something called Brake Steer, a technology originally developed for Formula 1, according to McLaren. And they would know. Instead of a heavy limited-slip diff, it “imperceptibly brakes the inside rear wheel” enhancing turn in and improving agility. It’s been tuned specially for the Spider and its super high-performance Pirelli Trofeo R tires. This car was benchmarked, McLaren says, against the 675LT Spider, which resides in the faster Super Series demarcation.
So that power and tech is good for a 0-62 mph sprint in 2.9 seconds, one-tenth faster than the Ferrari 488 Spider, McLaren notes, and it takes 8.4 seconds to get to 124 mph. That’s faster than a Lamborghini Huracan Spyder Performante AND the 488. It also weighs less than either, which is the second major point of the LT ethos. The first being its longer tail.
You may have heard this story before, but the first Longtail was the McLaren F1 GTR race car. When you’re eclipsing 200 mph, you’ll want stability. Then came the 675LT, followed by the 675LT Spider, which McLaren used as a benchmark for this LT Spider, the fifth in line after the 600LT Coupe.
The first LT pillar is minimized weight. The 600LT Spider lost almost 220 pounds from the 570S Spider it’s based on and only gains about 100 lbs. over the hardtop 600LT. Now, that’s if you spec the lightest one possible with things like carbon fiber racing seats, lightweight wheels, AC delete, audio and nav delete, lightweight suspension components, lightweight brakes and a bunch of other small bits. That all adds up to a dry weight of just 2,859 pounds. Add fluids and you’re looking at 3,000-3,050 pounds or so. With McLaren’s MonoCell II carbon fiber tub the convertible needs no extra strengthening. Most of that extra weight is from the top and top mechanism.
The second pillar of LT is optimized aerodynamics. That’s your long tail for more stability at high speeds. Speaking of, top speed is 201 mph with the roof up, 196 with the roof open. Also, those 2.9-inches worth of extended front splitter, extended rear diffuser and fixed wing are good for 220.5 pounds of downforce at 155 mph.
Pillars three and four are increased power and track-focused dynamics. Power is self-explanatory while track-focused dynamics means forged aluminum double wishbones, hollow antiroll bars, ride height reduction and recalibrated dampers, all made for turning expensive rubber into hot lap times. A McLaren Senna-sourced brake booster and lightweight brake parts contribute to a brake setup that’s only slightly less effective than the P1 supercar (the 600LT takes only 16 more feet to stop from 124 mph).
Driver engagement is number five and most of that comes through the spectacularly tuned electo-hydraulic power steering setup. The Spider also uses a new front axle geometry “to deliver sharper on-center response, faster turn-in and more feedback. There is a stiffer torsion bar in the steering rack and a more direct steering ratio that is 4 percent faster than the 570S Coupe.” Basically, you can feel exactly what the road is doing, and how much grip you have left, through the suede-covered steering wheel.
Finally, we have “limited to the few.” That means 12 months of production with deliveries commencing this spring.
Dropping into the suede-covered cockpit is much easier with the roof retracted. The doors still open dihedrally, sideways, then up, but with a hand on the windshield frame it’s much easier to step in compared to the hardtops. A plain suede wheel is there to greet you with no buttons or switches save the two attached paddle shifters. Ferrari puts everything on the wheel, McLaren puts nothing. Turn signal and menu stalks pop out from behind.
The gear selector switch and drive modes are between the seats (we rode in one of two comfortable, standard perches — there's also a carbon race shell option, all suede) with separate adjustments for powertrain and handling. That means if you’re on a rough road you can keep the power sharp but the dampers soft, and if you’re lollygagging at the track you can reverse it. The trick thing here is the way the car shifts in the different modes.
In normal mode, the seven-speed gearbox cuts fuel for a split second between shifts; McLaren calls it cylinder cut. In sport mode it uses ignition cut, adopted from Formula One, which sees a momentary cut of the spark on shifts. That’s when you get the big whip crack sound. Finally “inertia push harnesses the built-up kinetic energy to deliver an impulse of torque as the next gear is engaged, ensuring no drop in performance as the driver moves up through the gears.” It feels more aggressive and instantaneous than the faster McLaren 720S.
I fire up the maniacal twin-turbocharged V8 and am greeted by a cacophony of metallic sounds, none of them very pleasant, before it settles into a loud and gravelly hum. I throw a few revs at it, hoping to see fire from the top exit exhausts (no such luck) and like the rest of the company’s cars, it just sort of bellows without any flavor. If music were colors McLaren’s 3.8-liter note would be brown; Ferrari’s V8 would be a rainbow.
But no matter, I click into first gear and grumble out of the parking lot before I hammer it onto one of Arizona’s 1,000 straight, boring, low-speed-limit roads. I’m in sport mode, and I’m hearing the whip crack (or maybe shotgun?) sound as I click the upshift paddle at 6,500 rpm. 45 mph, 65 mph, 85 mph before I settle in and slow down just under triple digits. What did the engine sound like again?
It’s true, when hauling ass on a racetrack or up a canyon road, I don’t have much time to think about musical exhaust notes and whether this one pleases me. I’m keeping a peripheral eye on the shift lights and the rest of my energy focused forward. But, after realizing the inanely low speed limits here (come on, guys, 65 mph?), I drop back and cruise. It’s then that the drone, made louder by the lowering of the rear window, starts to annoy me.
There aren’t any big potholes here in the Southwest, but the roads aren’t always smooth. The Spider’s near perfect power steering and suspension setup transmit every dip, chunk and edge on the black top and communicate the exact millisecond the front tires are about to give way. I would have bet my life this was a standard hydraulic steering setup and not a hybrid. It feels rock solid on center and meaty around the 10 minutes of gradual sweepers I find somewhere between Scottsdale and Litchfield Park. I can’t remember the exact steering feel of the Ferrari 488 Spider, one of my current top three, but it couldn’t have been much better than this.
Why Litchfield you ask? Arizona Motorsports Park and its 15-turn, pool-table flat racetrack nestled right around the block from Perryville Prison and right next door to Luke Air Force Base (three things you don't want near your residential neighborhood) where F35s and F22s are the only thing louder than the wide-open exhaust from the 600LT. This is where the progressive oversteer comes into play.
AMP looks deceptively easy from the track map. What you can’t see are the bumps coming out of turn 9, or that 14a doesn’t require a downshift. I take it easy in the first session with one of McLaren’s professional drivers in tow. Both powertrain and handling are set to sport mode (they can be adjusted independently) and the ESC is fully on.
It’s slow coming out of the pits but once I’m past the blend line and into turn four my foot is to the floor and this thing is scary fast. There aren’t many cars that are scary fast these days, but this is one of them. Power is so strong and the shifts don’t leave any gaps in the torque. It pins my organs to the back of my rib cage until I stomp on the standard carbon ceramic brakes and set up for the next double-apex right hander.
Those expensive carbon discs measure 15.4 inches in front and 15 in back, and stopping power is confidence-inspiring to say the least. After my first ten laps I was still braking too early. That’s a good problem to have. Like the rest of McLaren’s lineup, they take a lot of effort. I get them pinned to a comfortable deceleration and then modulate from there. I probably could have stopped 20 percent later if I was feeling brave.
The stability control is a little intrusive on this first session. With almost 600 hp it has to be. But it’s more predictive than expected. Coming out of a turn, I go to the gas early, and without making a fuss it just doesn’t give me the power. There’s that feeling when you sort of steel your guts for acceleration, lean forward a smidge, and when that power doesn’t come it’s a little…not disorienting but peculiar. The computer obviously knows better. It knows that the wheel is still twisted, and it knows that I put too much throttle down. So, it waits, waits, waits…now go!
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