Playing the ridealong game is something to be approached with reluctance if your brief is to contrive some sort of definitive judgement from time spent as human ballast. So we'll assess the
second-gen R8
on its abilities when we get behind the wheel. And, for now, use obligatory time in the passenger seat as a chance to chat with one of the men behind it.
Stippler; racer turned development driver
Race car drivers, despite their healthy, suntanned appearance are complete psychopaths. Another reason why passenger rides are always a bad idea. If they smell fear, expect a blood bath. If they smell cockiness, expect a blood bath.
Climbing into the R8 I pull my seatbelt tight and prepare myself for the worst. I'm not disappointed. The starting procedure goes like this. Frank Stippler folds himself into the cabin but before buttocks bite Nappa leather he's somehow buckled in, stabbed the starter, engaged 'D' and employed a devastating size eleven/throttle pedal interface. Without any wheelspin my brain ticks off the 3.2-second 0-62mph claim as legit.
The pit exit is a steep climb to a blind summit before a plunge to the first corner. Internally I am already deeply troubled.
I've always thought of Ascari Race Resort as the perfect place to have a life-changing accident. The circuit was originally created for one fearless man to drive his collection of F1 cars, presumably badly, in the most terrifying environment possible. That explains the circuit's proximity to trees, boulders, rocks and, I kid you not, a huge crater. Immortality on WreckedExotics awaits. Except, of course, we don't crash.
Stippler not shy of a bit of showboating
Four corners in and my brain has finally rebooted and Frank and I trust one another. He trusts me not to introduce him to the bile-laced contents of my stomach. And I trust his complete talent of maintaining exactly ten tenths in the new R8.
I finally can concentrate on the car.
Brakes and gearshifts make the biggest impact, next is how hard Herr Stippler is leaning on those front Michelins - and how well they're coping, gripping even in the slow stuff. It's impressive. The soundtrack too, is immense. Stippler, meanwhile, is acting like he's on a qualifier with absolutely no showboating. He's clean, determined and on the very limit. Still no sign of understeer - something the old R8 used to introduce to its dynamic repertoire as an alarm bell to pick up the throttle to neutralise it. Or, if you were braver/more talented, drift gracefully out.
Stippler, meanwhile, continues to drive flawlessly. "Traction is terrific!" He barks, as he gives second everything.
Asking him if he missed 'his' R8 LMS on days like this he gives me a knowing look, perhaps a nod. So what does all his racing experience in the R8 LMS bring to the road car, I ask.
Requested progressive breakaway - delivered
"Three things I campaigned for with the Audi R8 was reducing the understeer on turn-in. The next was adding a quicker steering rack and the third was making the R8 very progressive at high speed breakaway. Now, with the quicker steering it's so much easier to correct any slide when it happens."
Lap two, if anything, is even quicker, by now I'm in full flow. Seeing if I can provoke the slightest mistake. I ask him if he'll miss having a manual - he says 'yes' but averts a PR FUBAR by saying 500hp, plus an engine like this that builds revs this quickly would challenge even his talents as a racer.
I even ask him about the Honda NSX - a car he used to race. Apparently a wonderful machine but one ruined by Honda's refusal to turbocharge it, leaving it hopelessly outgunned. Then it happens. It finally happens. The R8's nose misses an apex, then the next. Even more amusing there's a correction, then another one, with something approaching almost a miniature drift.
"The tyres, it's the tyres, they're too hot." Sounds like excuses, but Stippler quickly scrolls through the dash and, sure enough, the fronts' pressures are well over.
As the pace is wound back to take the R8 back for its next victim Ascari's splendour overwhelms once again. "Ascari is perhaps the most beautiful track..." says Stippler. Before quickly correcting himself. "After the Nurburgring, of course."