Cars are sometimes named after animals – AC’s Cobra, Plymouth’s Roadrunner and Barracuda, Ford’s Puma and the Dodge Viper. This car is the Saker – the name for the Eurasian Falcon. It was cruelly ironic that as I fired up the engine and let its torque pull me gently up the driveway that the small flock of white pigeons blocking my path didn’t panic and take flight in fear; they merely shuffled aside, seemingly unconcerned at this bird of prey.
This bird has got razor sharp talons, though, and is a reasonably scary proposition for all manner of roadside wildlife. I picked it up from Extreme Cars’ Manukau, Auckland base and headed out into the rolling rural hills to the east.
There are three variants of the Saker, each sporting a modified Subaru three-litre, six-cylinder boxer engine. The first, which I’m piloting today, packs 240bhp to launch its 900kg frame to 60mph somewhere a shade under five seconds. The second ups the ante with 340bhp of chiropractic ability, while the ruler of the roost packs 500 horses capable of bending the space-time continuum, as it would with a power-to-weight ratio of 115bhp more per metric tonne than the Zonda. The engine alone in the 500bhp/620Nm version (the ‘RSC Extreme’) has a single turbo and costs NZ$85,000 (over £30,000).
Back to my reality: I’m sat in the road-going RSC – not the first Saker road car, but the first one based on the current race car that already has a successful one-make series in Holland, Belgium and Germany. Hence, it’s still a bit ‘in-development’ as far as comfort goes – the pedals need adjusting, the seat is most definitely not right for my boniness, and there are numerous rattles that need to be fixed. I don’t care, though, as it’s bright yellow and no one else has an RSC; not even the guy in the Enzo I passed on the way to pick it up.
And if I told you where it was made, you wouldn’t believe me. Not far from 
Palmerston North in New Zealand, in a small town called Bunnythorpe, Bruce Turnbull has been building Sakers for 12 years, and recently the world discovered that, with only a paltry 280bhp, this car could run rings around a GT3 on the track. An order for 50 cars in the last 12 months has kept Bruce busy, as did preparing a car for the Bathurst 24-hour race in Australia and another car for the Thunder hills 25-hour endurance race in California in December.
Bruce’s 23-year history is steeped in open-wheeler success, particularly with Formula Ford. The Saker was a natural 
development from building Countach replicas. The first Saker hatched in 1992 with a 3.8-litre Ford V6 and it went on to win numerous New Zealand events. Solidly visually placed in that era, it shares similar lines with Group C-style racers of the time, such as the Dauer Le Mans 962LM or the Ultima Sports. At the first race in Germany in October, the Sakers qualified 1st, 2nd, 3rd, 4th and 5th, and they finished 1st, 2nd and 5th against 911 Turbos, GT3s, BMW E30s, etc.
Getting in, the doors are McLaren SLR-style, easily opening with the assistance of gas struts. In the cockpit the integrated rollcage is very much in evidence, 
forming part of the bubble canopy, the dashboard, and the floor pan just in front of the seat, and creating a blind spot that took a few kilometres to get used to.
This feels like a racing car and it reminds you all the time: instant throttle response, the front splitter catching occasionally on the less-than-perfect rural roads, and more grip than I dared explore.
But let me get to the grin-inducing part first: it is an arresting shade of yellow, so vivid that it slaps people in the face. If they weren’t looking in the direction of the Saker to start with and had no 
interest in cars, they still looked - even elderly Polynesian ladies in Nissan Prairies. People waved, people smiled, people pulled over to let me past then followed me (while they could keep up). I’m not an outgoing sanguine kind of guy, but this car converted me into the life and soul of the tarmac party.
Mincing across the tarmac dance floor, I’m grasping a really nice Momo steering wheel; behind it the dials (including a 300kph -- that's 187mph -- speedo) are supported by a carbon fibre dash. There’s a stereo, but who the hell wants to 
listen to music in a car like this? I listened to the exhaust note. I can’t put my finger on it, though -- it’s a six-cylinder boxer engine, but it doesn’t give out the usual Subaru thwop-thwop-thwop from its two harmonically tuned exhausts. It’s more of an erratic growl which shrieks blue murder up towards 6000 revs and beyond. The five-speed Subaru gearbox sits off the back of the engine, and as with most of the specifications of this car, it can be changed – you can put a heavy-duty six-speed or sequential ‘box in.
The engine sits in close proximity to your kidneys. Tony Waterman of Extreme Vehicles assures me this is the world’s first hard-top, mid-mounted, flat six-engined road sports car since around 1962. The engine in this model is designed to be extremely docile around town. Keep it in a high gear and it’ll amble around like a Mondeo. Get it above 3,000rpm, though, and it’s like you’re caught in a very strong tractor beam originating from the corner ahead. It has a definite area where it comes on cam.
While I couldn’t test the brakes thoroughly (they hadn’t been bedded in), the four-pot callipers on the front and two-pot on the rear, both gripping 300mm ventilated disks, should shed speed like becoming an Amway salesperson sheds friends. Six-pots are available if you use 17-inch wheels as opposed to the 16s currently fitted. 225-width tyres on the front and 255s on the rear ensure plenty of contact patch on the road for both cornering and braking, and the Spax suspension is fully adjustable. Tony even explained the manual wiper should be left vertical if I’m planning to do more than 200kph as it ‘flaps around a bit’. OK.
One of the nicest features of the car are the three-piece lightweight wheels, made in Christchurch, New Zealand. Their height fills the wheel arches perfectly, though they could do with being spaced out half an inch as the body has a bit too much overhang. Being a full-on racing car, the design is specifically for the track. The engine has a low centre of gravity, the wing is like a banquet table and its height, at 1050mm, is only an inch taller than a GT40.
Options abound for the discerning owner. You can have crocodile skin floor and snakeskin trim (very ‘Texas’), a rear vision video system, remote auto-rise doors, electronically adjustable suspension and internal fittings changed from the standard carbon fibre to alloy or wood.
This isn’t a car for taking shopping. There are no cubby holes at all (though they could quite easily be made in the side-pods, á la Ultima GTR). It’s got the rearwards visibility of a Countach – backing using extra-sensory perception is essential. But I feel at home in these types of cars. I have a mild distain for the numbness of most road cars that remove you from the very activity of ‘driving’ and cosset you from imperfections in the road. I like to feel through my butt cheeks that the New Zealand government under-funds the roads. Oh, and did I mention it’s yellow.
As there are only going to be 150 of the road cars, you’ll probably be assured a level of exclusivity, even if you get another yellow one. This is a ‘wow’ car for any schoolboy. It’s not the most modern design, but it doesn’t purport to be. It is a functional and fast race car that just happens to have indicators and a registration. I’ll have one in yellow.
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