Flat out in the McLaren Solus GT at the Circuit of the Americas

In other words, I am among my people. Ultra high net worth individuals. Today I am top dog as I’m here to drive McLaren’s newest track only project, the Solus GT. In fact, the real top dog is The Triple F Collection, which has kindly allowed us to drive its Solus GT, finished in Gulf colours. These guys have all the hypercars and are officially my new favourite people.

Photography: Greg Pajo

The GT Mk IV had history on its side. Wrapping up the original GT40 story with the GTE class win in 2016 and referencing the ‘big banger’ ’67 car that also took victory at La Sarthe, it’s an easy car to explain and understand. Not so the Solus GT.

A ground-up project with no romance attached to it, the Solus has nothing whatever to do with the current McLaren road or racecars, has an engine outsourced from a supplier with no history attached to McLaren and looks like pretty much nothing else. Don’t get me wrong, the prospect of driving a 935kg single seater with a bespoke carbon-fibre chassis, extreme aero and a naturally aspirated 5.2-litre V10 that revs to over 10,000rpm is mouth watering. But what exactly is the Solus GT?

The aesthetic grew out of a project started way back in 2010 by McLaren’s former designer Rob Melville, which was then adapted into the Vision GT virtual racer for the Gran Turismo video game series in 2017. Customers in the real world liked what they saw and the Solus was suddenly a live project.

The surfacing was handled by Tobias Sühlmann – who has since been appointed chief design officer at McLaren Automotive – and McLaren enlisted the help of KW Special Projects as technical partner. It seems strange that a company making carbon fibre supercars, F1 cars and with MSO – a division set up to create bespoke and often wild options for clients – needs another company to build the Solus GT, but maybe that’s just me.

Having said that, there’s no denying the purity of engineering here. Suspension is by double wishbones with inboard dampers connected via pushrods at the front and pullrods at the rear and torsion bars. Again, all good F1 or LMP-style practice. The chassis is carbon fibre, of course, and all laid up by hand just like an F1 car rather than the more ‘mass produced’ resin moulding technique used for, say, a 750S.

The Solus also uses its unique 5.2-litre V10 (manufactured by Judd but developed in partnership with McLaren) as a stressed member of the chassis. Just like in, well, you know the rest... The engine choice is fascinating. The Vision GT concept used McLaren’s twin-turbo V8 in combination with electric motors on the front wheels, but in the real world the programme quickly shifted focus from road relevance and hybrid technology to an absolute focus on lightweighting and linear response.

McLaren claims the Solus weighs 935kg, delivers 829bhp in Race mode (858bhp with airbox ram effect) and with Goodyear slicks from an LMP2 car should deliver lap times comparable with the latest Le Mans Hypercar class.

Owners get a proper seat fitting at the factory, the steering wheel is based off Lando’s F1 item and even compared with the Mk IV this thing seems extreme in every sense. However, I’m also told it’s intended to be easy to drive and a great platform for customers to “learn and grow with”.

The V10 needs pre-warming for 45 minutes before it’s even started and it’s hooked up to tubes and pumps when I arrive at COTA. The garages are spotless. Engineers in McLaren uniforms are doing things that seem important with laptops and tools. Everyone is chirpy enough but my imposter syndrome ramps up yet again.

The Solus GT looks stunning. Small and organic but with such presence. With the canopy pushed forward in the open position the sense that I’m about to step into uncharted territory is palpable and pretty intimidating. Two other guys will drive this car today – one is a current IndyCar driver, the other a former Le Mans class winner. And Bruno Senna is on hand for any advice I might need, too. Is it too late to get my mum to write a sick note? Getting in is easy. Step over the bodywork onto the seat, then support yourself on the sides of the cockpit and slide into the hot seat. The driving position is reclined but doesn’t seem as extreme as the Aston Valkyrie (chances are Solus GT owners will have one at home too) and the pedals and steering wheel have plenty of adjustment.

Ahead is a thick Halo-style spar of carbon fibre with a rearview screen attached to the top and the curved screen still some way off into the distance. It’s pushed back into position by one of the crew and suddenly the central driving position and that unbroken windscreen make perfect sense. What a view!

The driving environment is glorious. Even in a full face helmet and restricted by a Hans device, the sheer field of vision is wonderfully panoramic and liberating, and placing the Solus will surely be so easy with the tops of the front wheels right there ahead of you. Immediately some of the trepidation melts away. Vision GT might have been a better name for this thing, after all.

There's so much power, so many revs to enjoy, so much noise...

The V10 is fearsomely loud in the garage – and actually drowns out even the MP4/5’s Honda V10 engine on track – but when you’re inside the Solus bubble it’s neither shockingly violent nor scary. In fact, it feels bizarrely smooth and where I’d expected the whole car to tingle and resonate due to the engine and box being bolted directed to the carbon tub, it barely tickles your backside at idle. The noise is so much nicer than the Valkyrie’s from the inside too, which is so dominated by the gear-driven cams and is deafeningly loud and deeply uncouth. So, first impressions dissipate the nerves further.

There’s no clutch – select first, give it at least 20 per cent throttle and rip out into the pitlane and slam into the limiter. The steering is light and hyper direct but feels perfectly in tune with the car’s inherent agility and even as the V10 stutters and strains against the pit limiter the Solus GT has already reassured me. It’s clearly a brand new and in some ways alien experience but somehow everything feels entirely natural. How does that work? I’ve no idea, but I’m very grateful nonetheless.

COTA is huge in scale and with some properly quick corners and incredible elevation change. Exiting the pits you head sharply uphill for a tight left hander, then plunge downhill through a fast right before climbing again over a blind brow into a left-right-left-right combination that the Solus could probably take nearly flat. I can’t summon the courage, but even at a more conservative pace the car feels sharp, supremely stable and wonderfully agile. The central driving position is fantastic, the engine’s response and reach gives the car a weightless feel, and the seven-speed sequential box rips between ratios with precision.

For somebody used to road cars – even very good ones – the instant reactions and lack of inertia are elating. Although still engaged in the familiar act of driving, most of the reference points are gone. No need for patience and managing weight transfer, everything is compressed and waste is eradicated. Action and reaction meld into one seamless movement and the GT really does set you free. Free to brake later, turn in faster and use all that power with confidence. I’m barely scratching the surface through the quickest corners, but the thrill is undiminished and it’s truly easy to believe you could grow into the Solus GT’s vast capability over (a long) time.

That IndyCar driver I mentioned earlier proves the point, as he’s not only highly impressed with the performance but feels the car is a little too on edge at the limit. For me – at a reduced pace – the traits he’s talking about are absent and it possesses a lovely, confidence inspiring balance. Gentle understeer bleeding into a high g, hooked up balance that feels like all four tyres are sharing the load equally. But getting to the point where the Solus is on a knife edge? That’s a journey I’d love to take.

There are glimpses – a triggering of ABS here and there, a few occasions where the car starts to slide in the quicker, longer corners as mechanical grip and aero finally start to cry enough. These fleeting moments are crucial, and make you feel like you’re exploiting the Solus rather than just watching on as an amazed passenger. The sheer accuracy ensures the driver always feels deeply involved in the act of unravelling the track. The car might have limits beyond the abilities of most, but it requires the driver’s inputs and commitment at all times.

Of course, the shrieking V10 engine is simply staggering. There’s so much power, so many revs to enjoy, so much noise once you’ve got it working hard... the Judd-built V10 was an inspired choice. Truly, it’s one of the great internal combustion engines. However, the fact it’s just one element of a balanced, cohesive package says much about the capability of the Solus GT. For a few laps at least I forget all about pretending to be one of the super rich and just imagine that I’m one of the super talented. A proper, real life racing driver.

I can see why somebody might think £3.3m is a small price to pay to live that fantasy from time to time.

Mk IV or Solus GT? It's a question literally nobody is asking

The flight home is a rude jolt back to reality. The guy beside me necks two bottles of wine and a G&T and snores like a Texas Longhorn. The plane is packed. The food sucks. I’m back in the gutter... but the memories are glittering and my non-pro racer body has aches that will linger for days. Ford GT Mk IV and Solus GT driven back to back within just a few days leaves an indelible impression. The nature of being in the market for a track only hypercar is that the concept of ‘or’ doesn’t really register. Mk IV or Solus GT? It’s a question literally nobody is asking. In this rarified air the answer is always both. Plus maybe a Huayra R and isn’t Ferrari readying a version of the 499P Le Mans Hypercar for mere mortals, too? There’s no competition in this sector, merely other flavours to fend off the boredom of having everything, everywhere, all at once. However, let’s draw the conclusions we can. Maybe even pick a winner... no easy task.

The simple phrase ‘Judd V10’ makes the Solus GT irresistible. On the other hand... the Mk IV is a GT40. The fastest ever developed. It has real motorsport heritage and is built alongside cars that compete at Le Mans right now in the LM GT3 class, and features damper technology shared with F1 cars. It's a track only hypercar, but it's properly forged in competition and developed and set up by a pukka racing outfit. 

The Solus GT's motorsport connection is real, but it feels a little fluffy compared with the Ford's grittier, more authentic pedigree. It's also a full £1.7m cheaper and won't need an engine rebuild as frequently as the highly strung V10. A full teardown after 5,000km (3,100 miles) won't worry most owners but, y'know, I'm clutching at straws here. Can you sense me creeping towards a noncommittal conclusion? 

Well, to be honest that would be appropriate. As I said before, there is no ‘or’ in this narrative. However, gun to my head, it’s the Ford. It’s always the GT, the GT40, whatever you want to call it. It feels real and angry and wild, it makes you dream of Le Mans at sunrise, it draws from a legacy of Shelby and Gurney and, ironically, Bruce McLaren and Jacky Ickx and even Enzo Ferrari. The Solus GT and Ford GT Mk IV cross the finish line together. But if ’66 at the Circuit de la Sarthe taught us anything, it’s that there is always only one winner.