Review of a TVR Sagaris
Discussion
Hope nobody minds but Dinkel's review of the LHD Sagaris reminded me that earlier in the year I had penned a review of ecurie25's Sagaris that I had really just written as a bit of practice as I was just starting out writing again after a break of a good few years but I felt inspired by Dinkel's post to put up my own review.
This was just a first draft and as it was only a bit of practice I haven't taken the time to redraft it so please excuse the odd error or clunky sentence:
From the moment you press the wing-mirror mounted door release you know the TVR Sagaris is going to be something pretty special. You slide into the perfectly sculpted seat and put the key in the ignition barrel, turn it to the accessory position and watch the dash come to life- the dials do their self-diagnostic exploration of their arc, and two beeps signal that the fuel pump is ready to be primed. But you pause for a moment and drink in the ambience- the LCD display in the centre of the binnacle reads: 'TVR ENGINEERING LTD SAGARIS v100.0' with a hue and font that reminds me of an early Acorn Electron computer. It's the kind of look that you might see in 'Blade Runner' or some other such dystopian vision of the future from the 1980's- ironically it also reminds me somewhat of a Russian space-station in it's low-tech appearance, high-tech functionality.
But it's the noise that makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand-up. Of course, TVR are famous for their burbling and gurgling engines so that's to be expected- but I am talking about the noise before the engine even cranks over. It's a low thrum that wouldn't sound out of place on the Nostromo, a constant stream of noise not unlike that of a huge electricity generator- but it's not only a noise, it speaks- it says this is going to be a hell of a drive.
So I buckle up, thumb the button on the key fob and turn the key all the way... with the assistance of a throttle blip the straight-six catches and the electronic rev counter flashes into life. Usually at this point I'd say how then it settles into a (insert adjective) idle but you get the feeling that the Sagaris never truly settles- the initial throttle opening sends the revs skywards momentarily accompanied by the kind of sound a robo-Doberman would make if you stepped on it's family jewels and then drops into a chunky, churning idle that sounds lumpier than the small deviations shown on the rev counter suggest.
Last time I was at the ecurie25 headquarters in Old Street, London, I collected a Ferrari F430 Spider- I dropped the roof, flicked the gearshift to auto and headed out into the traffic with the kind of ease more akin to collecting a Micra from Hertz. No fuss, no drama- a great car obviously but one my mum could jump straight into from her MINI and not feel intimated despite the supercar performance and price tag.
The Sagaris was an all together different proposition so it was with no small amount of trepidation and a few drops of perspiration that I did my best to trickle up the small, gated ramp and onto the city roads. The long travel throttle makes low speed manoeuvring easier than I anticipated but I felt more like I was piloting a Le Mans racer than a sports car- a case in point being the aforementioned ‘ramp’, having picked up quite a few motors from there in the past I had acknowledged this hazard as no more than the groove in which the gate found its home outside of opening hours. Now it felt like an oversized speed hump thanks to the TVR’s ultra stiff suspension.
Having driven a Gallardo and the F430 round the same streets I thought I was used to the reactions provoked by driving something more than a little bit special amongst the homeward bound commuters but the Sagaris is something else entirely- those other cars prompted motor-minded folks to reach for their camera phones and take a snap before continuing about their business but this… this just prompts all and sundry to stare in slack-jawed amazement. It is looks and sounds like nothing else on the roads.
Despite the traffic I find the TVR to be a better behaved companion than I would have given it credit for- as long as the revs are kept up it pulls away smoothly and will cruise (that would sounds so inappropriate in relation to this car!) at an indicated 7mph in first gear without any real kangarooing or juddering. There is obviously some drive train shunt in such stop-start conditions and every now and then you need to give it a couple of throttle stabs at idle just to allow it to clear its throat but it is remarkably docile. It’s no automatic E-Class but obviously one has to have some allowances as this is truly a race-car for the road and as such exceeds all expectations in the usability stakes.
Once away from the urban sprawl and onto some main roads I get hit with my first disappointment- at the national speed limit the Sagaris seems to be constantly following the ruts and dips in the road, the steering wheel squirming around in my hands. So much so that as the road opens up and I attempt my first overtake with a moderate throttle my butt tells me that the back is stepping out but a quick mental stock take informs my butt to release it’s grip on my boxers and that it’s just a previously unnoticed camber change between the lanes. Unfortunately this is enough to knock my confidence somewhat and I spend the remainder of the journey taking it very easy indeed.
I leave the main road and make my way onto the country lanes that form the final leg of my journey, some sixty minutes since I left Old Street. It’s at this point I have an ephinany, a moment of clarity and I realise the apparently nervous handling was down to me. I was too tense, too used to having my driving experienced handed to me in a ready-prepared, shrink-wrapped sanitised microwave meal of a fashion- the TVR needed to flow with the road, to be guided but for it to find it’s own way to a certain extent. What I had been doing was correcting every little pull at the wheel and trying to stick to a linear path that I dictated. But driving this car isn’t a dictatorship, it’s a democracy- nay, a partnership- twenty five miles into my trip it clicked.
Through the heat haze ahead the road snaked towards the horizon- clear of other traffic. It was time to see if I really had ‘got it’ or if I would soon be testing the structural integrity of the leather-wrapped roll-cage and the understanding of ecurie MD Erik Fairbarn. Fortunately it all comes together, I mash the accelerator pedal into the carpet and keep it pinned until the shift lights blink, slam the shifter into third and resume accelerating towards the bend- the noise now is life-affirming, like a WW2 fighter plane at full chat. The brakes shed excess speed with ease, despite the lack of pedal travel their stopping power is awesome and fade free with more than enough feel to give confidence despite the lack of ABS and the telepathically direct steering sees the TVR slice through the left-right combination without drama.
A few moments later I am disappointed to find myself home. Disappointed but it’s probably best that I am as there is a distinct lack of cool air in the confines of the Sagaris cabin, even set on cold the blowers just seem to take incredibly hot air from the engine compartment and redistribute it in the cockpit. I’m not too proud to admit that I am drenched in sweat and my head feels like I spent a day in the Sahara downing Stella.
Despite the onset of heat stroke- a change of clothes and a few glasses of Evian later I find myself back behind the wheel. No place to go but an urge just to get back in and drive- well, I guess it is my job. Wouldn’t be much of a road test if I just drove cars to my house and exhibited them as automotive street art.
But first time for a bit of fiddle- other than the heater controls I purposely shied away from pressing any buttons whilst on my way home, discouraged by tales of TVR fragility. On first glance there seems to be very little to entertain other than the driving experience itself but intrigued by the LCD display that tells me to ‘Press Up/Down to enter menu’ I discover the two buttons mounted on the rear of the steering wheel which give access to the numerous features such as the settling of shift light points and all the stats and technical data you could hope for. MPG is conspicuous by its absence but I found despite the epic performance on offer it was quite a frugal companion returning around 20mpg. But enough of messing with such frivolities- the open road beckons.
Well, I think it’s beckoning but there is a sound that suggests I should pull up before I end up in a stall- not to worry, it’s just the very irritating indicator noise that beeps like a warning from a fighter jet.
In today’s climate in which even a Lamborghini, thanks to its relative user-friendliness, could be used for the school run it is refreshing to drive a modern car that requires more than for you just to conscious to actually drive it. The Sagaris combines the old school feeling of a rough and ready supercar that demands your full attention and respect at all times yet overlays this with a net of electronic civility that means it won’t stall every time the revs drop as you come to a halt after a high speed run.
I took a number of journeys in the Sagaris over the few days it was in my possession- much of which I undertook alone. Yet, without sounding a bit mystical and odd, I never felt like I was actually alone due to the fact that you feel so much like you are the car are working as two individuals towards achieving the goal of swift and accomplished progress. It has a soul, when you step outside your front door of a morning and see it sitting there on the driveway you feel that you are not just unlocking and starting a motor vehicle but awaking a slumbering faithful beast. A beast that as you burble down the road appears to onlookers that it wants to spit flames at them from the side exit exhausts yet you know that given the correct and respectful inputs from the helm it is an automotive bullmastiff.
It is irrational for me to like this car as much as I do as this is neither an accomplished cruiser or out an out track car so falls rather awkwardly between the two. Let’s take the cruiser aspect first- this is certainly no GT car, if you momentarily rest your head against the headrest you are shocked to feel just how much the car is bobbing around and it is certainly too low for one to travel comfortably at motorway-plus speeds on our cracked and pitted highways without fear of loosing the underside to an expected dip or pothole. On the track car side it does have the sheer immediacy of responses and superbly powerful engine on its side but for a dedicated track car it makes more sense to look to the Lotus Exige and it’s kind.
So sure, there are 'better' cars, cars that on-paper perform in a similar fashion but it's all about the feeling, the passion, the sheer raw energy of the TVR that makes you feel at one with the Sagaris- the fact that you feel that you are getting back what you put into the experience.
Put it this way, like most people in the UK I know it would be great if my Lotto numbers came up this weekend and I was instantly up there with the wealthiest. But what would be better- sitting in your gold bathtub sipping champagne and thinking that your progress relied on no skill at all other than handing over a shiny pound coin to the chap at your local sweetshop or sitting in that same bathtub a self-made man knowing that all you have achieved you did so through hard graft and dedication? Both would be fantastic but…
The TVR Sagaris: sure it will be hard work at times and there will occasionally be sacrifices to be made, the lack of ventilation, the unforgiving ride, that bloody indicator noise, the heady smell of glue when in traffic on a hot day amongst other niggles but it’s the more satisfying choice.
This was just a first draft and as it was only a bit of practice I haven't taken the time to redraft it so please excuse the odd error or clunky sentence:
From the moment you press the wing-mirror mounted door release you know the TVR Sagaris is going to be something pretty special. You slide into the perfectly sculpted seat and put the key in the ignition barrel, turn it to the accessory position and watch the dash come to life- the dials do their self-diagnostic exploration of their arc, and two beeps signal that the fuel pump is ready to be primed. But you pause for a moment and drink in the ambience- the LCD display in the centre of the binnacle reads: 'TVR ENGINEERING LTD SAGARIS v100.0' with a hue and font that reminds me of an early Acorn Electron computer. It's the kind of look that you might see in 'Blade Runner' or some other such dystopian vision of the future from the 1980's- ironically it also reminds me somewhat of a Russian space-station in it's low-tech appearance, high-tech functionality.
But it's the noise that makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand-up. Of course, TVR are famous for their burbling and gurgling engines so that's to be expected- but I am talking about the noise before the engine even cranks over. It's a low thrum that wouldn't sound out of place on the Nostromo, a constant stream of noise not unlike that of a huge electricity generator- but it's not only a noise, it speaks- it says this is going to be a hell of a drive.
So I buckle up, thumb the button on the key fob and turn the key all the way... with the assistance of a throttle blip the straight-six catches and the electronic rev counter flashes into life. Usually at this point I'd say how then it settles into a (insert adjective) idle but you get the feeling that the Sagaris never truly settles- the initial throttle opening sends the revs skywards momentarily accompanied by the kind of sound a robo-Doberman would make if you stepped on it's family jewels and then drops into a chunky, churning idle that sounds lumpier than the small deviations shown on the rev counter suggest.
Last time I was at the ecurie25 headquarters in Old Street, London, I collected a Ferrari F430 Spider- I dropped the roof, flicked the gearshift to auto and headed out into the traffic with the kind of ease more akin to collecting a Micra from Hertz. No fuss, no drama- a great car obviously but one my mum could jump straight into from her MINI and not feel intimated despite the supercar performance and price tag.
The Sagaris was an all together different proposition so it was with no small amount of trepidation and a few drops of perspiration that I did my best to trickle up the small, gated ramp and onto the city roads. The long travel throttle makes low speed manoeuvring easier than I anticipated but I felt more like I was piloting a Le Mans racer than a sports car- a case in point being the aforementioned ‘ramp’, having picked up quite a few motors from there in the past I had acknowledged this hazard as no more than the groove in which the gate found its home outside of opening hours. Now it felt like an oversized speed hump thanks to the TVR’s ultra stiff suspension.
Having driven a Gallardo and the F430 round the same streets I thought I was used to the reactions provoked by driving something more than a little bit special amongst the homeward bound commuters but the Sagaris is something else entirely- those other cars prompted motor-minded folks to reach for their camera phones and take a snap before continuing about their business but this… this just prompts all and sundry to stare in slack-jawed amazement. It is looks and sounds like nothing else on the roads.
Despite the traffic I find the TVR to be a better behaved companion than I would have given it credit for- as long as the revs are kept up it pulls away smoothly and will cruise (that would sounds so inappropriate in relation to this car!) at an indicated 7mph in first gear without any real kangarooing or juddering. There is obviously some drive train shunt in such stop-start conditions and every now and then you need to give it a couple of throttle stabs at idle just to allow it to clear its throat but it is remarkably docile. It’s no automatic E-Class but obviously one has to have some allowances as this is truly a race-car for the road and as such exceeds all expectations in the usability stakes.
Once away from the urban sprawl and onto some main roads I get hit with my first disappointment- at the national speed limit the Sagaris seems to be constantly following the ruts and dips in the road, the steering wheel squirming around in my hands. So much so that as the road opens up and I attempt my first overtake with a moderate throttle my butt tells me that the back is stepping out but a quick mental stock take informs my butt to release it’s grip on my boxers and that it’s just a previously unnoticed camber change between the lanes. Unfortunately this is enough to knock my confidence somewhat and I spend the remainder of the journey taking it very easy indeed.
I leave the main road and make my way onto the country lanes that form the final leg of my journey, some sixty minutes since I left Old Street. It’s at this point I have an ephinany, a moment of clarity and I realise the apparently nervous handling was down to me. I was too tense, too used to having my driving experienced handed to me in a ready-prepared, shrink-wrapped sanitised microwave meal of a fashion- the TVR needed to flow with the road, to be guided but for it to find it’s own way to a certain extent. What I had been doing was correcting every little pull at the wheel and trying to stick to a linear path that I dictated. But driving this car isn’t a dictatorship, it’s a democracy- nay, a partnership- twenty five miles into my trip it clicked.
Through the heat haze ahead the road snaked towards the horizon- clear of other traffic. It was time to see if I really had ‘got it’ or if I would soon be testing the structural integrity of the leather-wrapped roll-cage and the understanding of ecurie MD Erik Fairbarn. Fortunately it all comes together, I mash the accelerator pedal into the carpet and keep it pinned until the shift lights blink, slam the shifter into third and resume accelerating towards the bend- the noise now is life-affirming, like a WW2 fighter plane at full chat. The brakes shed excess speed with ease, despite the lack of pedal travel their stopping power is awesome and fade free with more than enough feel to give confidence despite the lack of ABS and the telepathically direct steering sees the TVR slice through the left-right combination without drama.
A few moments later I am disappointed to find myself home. Disappointed but it’s probably best that I am as there is a distinct lack of cool air in the confines of the Sagaris cabin, even set on cold the blowers just seem to take incredibly hot air from the engine compartment and redistribute it in the cockpit. I’m not too proud to admit that I am drenched in sweat and my head feels like I spent a day in the Sahara downing Stella.
Despite the onset of heat stroke- a change of clothes and a few glasses of Evian later I find myself back behind the wheel. No place to go but an urge just to get back in and drive- well, I guess it is my job. Wouldn’t be much of a road test if I just drove cars to my house and exhibited them as automotive street art.
But first time for a bit of fiddle- other than the heater controls I purposely shied away from pressing any buttons whilst on my way home, discouraged by tales of TVR fragility. On first glance there seems to be very little to entertain other than the driving experience itself but intrigued by the LCD display that tells me to ‘Press Up/Down to enter menu’ I discover the two buttons mounted on the rear of the steering wheel which give access to the numerous features such as the settling of shift light points and all the stats and technical data you could hope for. MPG is conspicuous by its absence but I found despite the epic performance on offer it was quite a frugal companion returning around 20mpg. But enough of messing with such frivolities- the open road beckons.
Well, I think it’s beckoning but there is a sound that suggests I should pull up before I end up in a stall- not to worry, it’s just the very irritating indicator noise that beeps like a warning from a fighter jet.
In today’s climate in which even a Lamborghini, thanks to its relative user-friendliness, could be used for the school run it is refreshing to drive a modern car that requires more than for you just to conscious to actually drive it. The Sagaris combines the old school feeling of a rough and ready supercar that demands your full attention and respect at all times yet overlays this with a net of electronic civility that means it won’t stall every time the revs drop as you come to a halt after a high speed run.
I took a number of journeys in the Sagaris over the few days it was in my possession- much of which I undertook alone. Yet, without sounding a bit mystical and odd, I never felt like I was actually alone due to the fact that you feel so much like you are the car are working as two individuals towards achieving the goal of swift and accomplished progress. It has a soul, when you step outside your front door of a morning and see it sitting there on the driveway you feel that you are not just unlocking and starting a motor vehicle but awaking a slumbering faithful beast. A beast that as you burble down the road appears to onlookers that it wants to spit flames at them from the side exit exhausts yet you know that given the correct and respectful inputs from the helm it is an automotive bullmastiff.
It is irrational for me to like this car as much as I do as this is neither an accomplished cruiser or out an out track car so falls rather awkwardly between the two. Let’s take the cruiser aspect first- this is certainly no GT car, if you momentarily rest your head against the headrest you are shocked to feel just how much the car is bobbing around and it is certainly too low for one to travel comfortably at motorway-plus speeds on our cracked and pitted highways without fear of loosing the underside to an expected dip or pothole. On the track car side it does have the sheer immediacy of responses and superbly powerful engine on its side but for a dedicated track car it makes more sense to look to the Lotus Exige and it’s kind.
So sure, there are 'better' cars, cars that on-paper perform in a similar fashion but it's all about the feeling, the passion, the sheer raw energy of the TVR that makes you feel at one with the Sagaris- the fact that you feel that you are getting back what you put into the experience.
Put it this way, like most people in the UK I know it would be great if my Lotto numbers came up this weekend and I was instantly up there with the wealthiest. But what would be better- sitting in your gold bathtub sipping champagne and thinking that your progress relied on no skill at all other than handing over a shiny pound coin to the chap at your local sweetshop or sitting in that same bathtub a self-made man knowing that all you have achieved you did so through hard graft and dedication? Both would be fantastic but…
The TVR Sagaris: sure it will be hard work at times and there will occasionally be sacrifices to be made, the lack of ventilation, the unforgiving ride, that bloody indicator noise, the heady smell of glue when in traffic on a hot day amongst other niggles but it’s the more satisfying choice.
Edited by AARONM3 on Tuesday 17th October 23:47
AARONM3 said:
From the moment you press the wing-mirror mounted door release you know the TVR Sagaris is going to be something pretty special. You slide into the perfectly sculpted seat and put the key in the ignition barrel, turn it to the accessory position and watch the dash come to life- ................
But it's the noise that makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand-up. Of course, TVR are famous for their burbling and gurgling engines so that's to be expected- but I am talking about the noise before the engine even cranks over. It's a low thrum that wouldn't sound out of place on the Nostromo, a constant stream of noise not unlike that of a huge electricity generator- but it's not only a noise, it speaks- it says this is going to be a hell of a drive.
That is sooo right.....I love that "I'm gonna be driving in a minute" feeling you get when you hear that noise.
I've never had that feeling with any other car we've had in the past....it's just a shivery exciting feeling of anticipation............
AARONM3 said:
Having driven a Gallardo and the F430 round the same streets I thought I was used to the reactions provoked by driving something more than a little bit special amongst the homeward bound commuters but the Sagaris is something else entirely- those other cars prompted motor-minded folks to reach for their camera phones and take a snap before continuing about their business but this… this just prompts all and sundry to stare in slack-jawed amazement. It is looks and sounds like nothing else on the roads.
Yup.... on the button...........The Sagaris gets the most amazing reactions.
Thought the Cerb was good...but there is no comparison.
Heard a lot more swearing too when we first had it.....not about my driving I hasten to add
, but more along the lines of "What the F*ck is that" 
Not so much now since Jeremy Clarkson 'ooed' and 'aahed' over it on Top Gear!
AARONM3 said:
A few moments later I am disappointed to find myself home. Disappointed but it’s probably best that I am as there is a distinct lack of cool air in the confines of the Sagaris cabin, even set on cold the blowers just seem to take incredibly hot air from the engine compartment and redistribute it in the cockpit. I’m not too proud to admit that I am drenched in sweat and my head feels like I spent a day in the Sahara downing Stella.
Obviously didn't find the Air Con button then........
Gets so cold in our Sag that I have to ask Ray if he's driving if I can turn it off!
AARONM3 said:
I took a number of journeys in the Sagaris over the few days it was in my possession- much of which I undertook alone. Yet, without sounding a bit mystical and odd, I never felt like I was actually alone due to the fact that you feel so much like you are the car are working as two individuals towards achieving the goal of swift and accomplished progress. It has a soul,
Absolutely......again, not a feeling I have ever had with any of the other cars I've driven....
I tracked the Sag recently..not a good day for me...too much went wrong, but that car forgave me soooo many sins.
I was hurling it into all the wrong lines and it felt as if it was looking after me whilst rolling it's eyes in horror....
Held fast on every wrong line I took ........
AARONM3 said:
It is irrational for me to like this car as much as I do
No it's not....that's how most people feel...ask DJC
AARONM3 said:
The TVR Sagaris: sure it will be hard work at times and there will occasionally be sacrifices to be made, the lack of ventilation, the unforgiving ride, that bloody indicator noise, the heady smell of glue when in traffic on a hot day amongst other niggles but it’s the more satisfying choice.
Now that was unfortunate.
After such a good write up you just have to go and spoil it
Our Sagaris has NEVER and I repeat NEVER, even when it had been tracked round Croft by Ray and hurled round Croft by lil ol me and got very hot indeed, did it or has it EVER smelt of glue.
Our Sagaris smells of leather and has never smelt of anything else.
(Other than fish and chips (Jeez it took a couple of days of airing to get that out)...never again will we succumb
) YP
Edited by yellow peril on Wednesday 18th October 08:28
I'd hope people would be more discerning than that- I write about lots of different cars and I happened to genuinely like the Sagaris.
People have said positive things about my other pieces and I have managed to get myself a decent amount of work in a relatively short space of time so I must be doing something that a reasonable number of people enjoy reading. I do appreciate that I am pretty new to this and also perhaps this article wasn't entirely representative of my output as it is more a stream of conciousness that would have been refined before publishing but nevertheless I'm deflated that you loathed every single word.
People have said positive things about my other pieces and I have managed to get myself a decent amount of work in a relatively short space of time so I must be doing something that a reasonable number of people enjoy reading. I do appreciate that I am pretty new to this and also perhaps this article wasn't entirely representative of my output as it is more a stream of conciousness that would have been refined before publishing but nevertheless I'm deflated that you loathed every single word.
Edited by AARONM3 on Wednesday 18th October 12:27
AARONM3 said:
I'd hope people would be more discerning than that- I write about lots of different cars and I happened to genuinely like the Sagaris.
People have said positive things about my other pieces and I have managed to get myself a decent amount of work in a relatively short space of time so I must be doing something that a reasonable number of people enjoy reading. I do appreciate that I am pretty new to this and also perhaps this article wasn't entirely representative of my output as it is more a stream of conciousness that would have been refined before publishing but nevertheless I'm deflated that you loathed every single word.
People have said positive things about my other pieces and I have managed to get myself a decent amount of work in a relatively short space of time so I must be doing something that a reasonable number of people enjoy reading. I do appreciate that I am pretty new to this and also perhaps this article wasn't entirely representative of my output as it is more a stream of conciousness that would have been refined before publishing but nevertheless I'm deflated that you loathed every single word.
Edited by AARONM3 on Wednesday 18th October 12:27
Different ppl like different writing styles, I dont like yours. Im one opinion thats all.
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