Yahoo Autos Ford GT Mk IV Is on an Entirely Different Level
I try not to deal in cliché, but sometimes it is hard not to. There are just so many in our gearhead world. From saving manuals to sending it, we all have phrases that we use or drip into conversation that a normal civilian—one of those strange people who consider cars to be simply a mode of transport—would deride as slightly ridiculous. But there’s one that sounds more plausible than all the others: “slow car fast.” This being the notion that it is better fun to extract the maximum from a humble car than barely scratch the surface of a fat-tired supercar. It’s closely related to that other great cliché about the answer always being Miata.
Oh, I get it. It sounds heroic for a start. Threshold braking, slip-sliding through the turns with calm control, driver and car working in perfect harmony and making the most of not very much. Who doesn’t want to live in that moment? It democratizes the pure joy of driving too. You don’t need a GT3 RS with sticky Cup 2R tires or an SF90 with over 1000 hp to reach driving nirvana. Just a modest car and, crucially, your own mighty talent. Slow car fast. Absolutely.
The Ford GT Mk IV is not a slow car, nor a humble one. It has over 800 hp and just 67 will be produced at a price of $1.7 million plus local taxes. One glance at the hugeness of its wings and GT3-spec Michelin slicks confirms I will not be four-wheel drifting it. I doubt I will drive it at 100 percent of its abilities, or anywhere close. Yet as the Mk IV sits idling in the pit lane before I get to drive it, I’m not yearning for a Miata instead.
The thing I’m looking forward to most at the brilliant Calabogie Motorsports Park, an hour west of Ottawa, Ontario, is getting a glimpse of real aerodynamic grip in the Mk IV. To feel that mysterious force that enables extraordinary lap times and other-worldly cornering speeds. I love making a car slip, but right here and now, I just want to lean into a new sensation and give my neck muscles a work out. By the end of the day I’ll be better qualified to report whether driving fast in a slow car is where it’s at, or maybe the more depressing truth that what you really need is more power, more grip, and more money.
The Mk IV is the final, ultimate version of the third generation of the Ford GT. Remember, this car was conceived to take Ford back to Le Mans first and foremost, with the road-car twin more of a bonus than a fundamental part of the program. In 2016, the race car delivered, winning the GTE class at the 24 Hours of Le Mans on the 50th anniversary of Ford’s iconic (and orchestrated) one-two-three victory.
The GT race car’s pace was managed by the Balance of Performance restrictions common to GT racing; it never delivered on its optimal performance. The Mk IV, which is not homologated for road or race, has no such limitations. This is the GT unleashed. Executive vice president of Multimatic special vehicle operations Larry Holt, who developed and built the GT, is clear on that. “We thought this car deserved more. It has so much potential. This thing is way, way faster than the old GTE car. You’re gonna love it.”
I hope so, but my pre-drive nerves are raging. Not only is the Mk IV extremely precious, it is accompanied by a small army of Multimatic engineers and mechanics, as well as Holt himself. In place of the road and race car’s Ecoboost twin-turbocharged 3.5-liter V-6 is a punched-out 3.8-liters with bigger turbos and a host of other changes. There are three maps. The first is around 550 hp, the next closer to 700 hp, and the final one unlocks “well over 800 hp.”
The mighty new engine is hooked up to a seven-speed racing sequential gearbox and mechanical limited-slip differential. Brakes are carbon-carbon, the pushrod suspension uses the the latest Active Spool Valve adjustable dampers with five modes, and the downforce numbers are crazy. Multimatic claims the Mk IV’s wings and diffuser make 2400 pounds at 150 mph and around 4500 pounds at 200 mph. The car weighs just 2750 pounds.
Scott Maxwell, Multimatic’s test driver, former class winner at Le Mans and the guy who did the vast majority of Mk IV development miles, is here to show me the ropes. “We’ll send you out on used tires to get a feel for the car and the track,” he says. “Then, when you feel comfortable, come in, we’ll put some stickier tires on, and you can push. It should be fantastic for three laps. This place is so abrasive.” This level of trust is flattering, but it’s also a sign of the pride in the Mk IV, especially as I’m the only non-Multimatic employee or owner to sample it.
I run Maxwell’s suggested settings for ABS and traction control (the race car didn’t benefit from ABS due to regulations but had a similar adjustable traction control). The dampers are in mode three of five for my first stint, and the power is set to low. “It will feel underpowered,” Maxwell says, suggesting I click the power up when I feel like it. Then he slams the door shut.
The Ecoboost is already running. It sounds deep and dirty but hardly musical. If one thing diminished the GT’s experience as a road car it was the powerful but prosaic V-6 motor. The Mk IV already has more drama and edge. The cabin is pure race car, feeling small, narrow, incredibly low and absolutely focused. The steering yoke has an array of buttons that I mostly won’t worry about and feels entirely natural to hold. Despite the race transmission there is no foot clutch. I simply select first gear with the upshift paddle and press a small yellow button to activate the auto clutch, moving away cleanly. Easy.
The steering effort is minimal too. The electrical assistance is adjustable, but even in it’s lowest setting, the rack is so light and smooth. I love it. More muscle is needed for the carbon-carbon brakes, but they seem to work almost immediately. The gearshifts are fast and smooth. And the way everything is linked together feels absolutely cohesive. There is no awkward dartiness or scary inertia to push through on faith. The transparent noise and energy being deployed and harnessed prevents the Mk IV from ever feeling calm, but it’s certainly intuitive. I’ve clicked up to the intermediate engine map by the time the first lap is over.
The brakes. Dear Lord, the brakes. The GT stops so well it’s actually hard to describe. The combination of those big slicks, confidence-inspiring ABS, and all that aero means your guts are screaming “brake!” but your brain knows you can hit another upshift, count to two, and still make the corner. Easily. It’s an alien and fantastic feeling, and it gives a real sense that you can attack the track in the Mk IV, even as you’re getting accustomed to the lateral grip available.
It punches hard too. Usually, a racetrack sucks the drama from raw acceleration, but the high-energy, low-inertia sensation of the Mk IV can’t be tamed. It rips out of corners and then just keeps piling on speed. In the rarefied world of track-only hypercars I’d liken the Mk IV’s gut punch to that of a P1 GTR. The noise is different—there are two fewer cylinders and no electric motors—but there’s a similar chaotic, frenzied feel to this engine now. Ecoboost doesn’t seem right. Evilboost? Better. The demonic turbo noise and mechanical fury are fantastic. From weak link to centerpiece in one leap.
After stopping to swap to new tires things are ramped up to such an extent that my body and brain are elated and assaulted all at once. There isn’t one stand-out feature that elevates the Mk IV experience. The whole car operates in a stratosphere but also in perfect harmony. The black-out brakes, superheated acceleration, and phenomenal grip meld together into a seamless, fluid, and weirdly delicate experience. The forces are extreme, but the Mk IV seems to move with such ease. Even as you feel yourself punching in inputs, pounding the brake pedal, and unleashing the engine incredibly early in corners, this remarkable car just eats it up, buffs away the rough edges, and stays coolly poised.
To my surprise, I can push pretty hard in this thing and feel it come to life. A little push of understeer here or there, a quick snap of oversteer out of the slower turns, and the incredible sense of all four tires being squeezed into the track surface in the faster ones. Oh man, downforce and extreme grip might diminish the thrill in a road car at times, but on track, the transparent awe and wonder they cultivate is shocking.
The sensation of just tipping the Mk IV into corners way faster than seems reasonable and then carrying all that speed through a turn is incredible. What’s strange is that it feels entirely unnatural but also completely appropriate. The car provides these incredible, spookily effective tools that seem to bend and twist the laws of physics, but once you’ve started to understand them, driving deep into this new zone isn’t scary at all. You just want to do it more and more, the thrill exponentially increasing. Some people will always consider a driver’s car to have a manual gearbox, no driver assistance, and grip that can be easily breached. But I have a feeling the Mk IV could make them think again…
I have no problem saying I never switched off the traction control. I even used the auto upshift for the brilliant gearbox. Boy, did I love and appreciate the ABS. In an entire day I probably pushed the Mk IV beyond the limit of grip to the point it needed a steering correction maybe four times in total compared to, say, Maxwell on a qualifying simulation. You might even say I was driving a fast car slow. My feelings would be a little dented. I was really trying, but I’d get it.
Yet those hours at Calabogie in the GT Mk IV were some of the most immersive, exciting, and outrageously joyous experiences I’ve had in a car, forging the sort of deep connection to make me wish even harder than usual to have a couple of million sitting spare. Was it more fun than driving a Miata on the lock stops and dancing well beyond the limit of grip? Sad to report, yes. The truth is that there are thrills to be found in all sorts of ways in all sorts of cars. But driving a really, really fast car with grip and downforce to open up a whole new world of sensations is pretty hard to beat.
Bringing another cliché: You get what you pay for. That one holds up in the case of the Ford GT Mk IV.
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