Well into morning, snow crystals floating in the frigid Lapland air create a kaleidoscopic ring around the moon known as the 22-degree halo. We’re at 68° 37’ 30” North, about 200 miles above the Arctic Circle, still awaiting sunrise at 9:30 am as a multicolored fleet of McLaren Artura supercars warm up next to a cozy lodge. Frigid is no exaggeration here; the cars need to get temp in their fluids but also for the drivers, since the day’s forecast to crest in just the low double digits – but that will be in six hours or so from now, before the sun starts to set again at 3 pm.
Reaching Northern Finland from Los Angeles requires a long travel itinerary, but I happily made such a journey to join the Pure McLaren Arctic Experience, a multi-day customer adventure condensed into a brief program for media consumption. Shrinking the schedule, therefore, meant hours on end sliding supercars around sideways on a frozen lake, bookended by delicious meals of reindeer and arctic char cooked over the hearth, long nights under the northern lights, and even a morning of husky dog sledding out in the snow-covered woods.
My dedicated instructor for the ice driving portion of the adventure, Charlie Hollings, boasts 15 years of experience with McLaren. That’s on top of a professional racing pedigree spanning everything from GT cars to LMP1 at the 24 Hours of Le Mans, though he wound up spending most of our day together in the far more comfortable passenger seat of a Tokyo Cyan Artura. Since McLaren so far eschewed the option for an all-wheel-drive model, I figured rear-wheel drive and up to 691 horsepower should make for quite the handful on the ice.
The ice itself measures just shy of 28 inches thick – which might sound insubstantial but can somehow support a pair of nine-ton tractors tasked with scraping snow about and rescuing any stuck cars. So nothing to worry about for a 3,303-pound Artura as Hollings and I explored a total of 16 tracks in various lengths and configurations, plus two dedicated donut circles and one dynamic straightaway.
Customers usually build up slowly, a half-hour on and a half-hour off, starting out with basic drills to master throttle and brake modulation, countersteering, and vision on the slippery surface. Depending on driver experience and confidence, trying a few laps with McLaren’s ESC programming fully on or in Dynamic mode may also fit into the mix. Hollings pushed me through the easier portions of the program after recognizing my prior experience, though, so soon enough, with all the electronic nannies turned off, that Artura started absolutely screaming up near redline in second gear as we romped around the ice.
At first, the decision to bring a fleet of Arturas out to Lapland sounds questionable. Why not the more potent 750S? Especially given potential struggles as the high-performance hybrid system deals with such cold temperatures…. But this hybrid’s instantaneous electric response actually helps with ice driving, thanks to slightly more linear power delivery than a big twin-turbo V8 in a 750S that might need more time to build up turbo boost and kick the rear tires out. So, the day becomes more about sensing mid-mounted mass, steering into slides, swinging the tail end out in a pendulum motion that eventually hooks back up and launches out onto straights.
The speeds actually surprised me for a rear-wheel-drive car, too, mostly thanks to using studded tires. A McLaren rep told me each tire on the Artura used 180 studs, but I tried to count on one, and by my math, the number looked closer to 250 or even 300. The impressive grip increases the pace out on the lake, but also the predictability and steering feedback, which become ever so slightly more similar to driving at track speed on tarmac—or maybe wet asphalt. Weather comes into play, naturally, so throughout a day with less snowpack and mostly exposed ice on the main circuits, I needed to relearn how to spot traction. As my confidence built, throttle and braking inputs grew smoother, the best indication of improved performance was my hands steadily slowing down on the steering wheel.
Hollings walked me quickly up through the various training circuits. A little squiggly loop called “Caterpillar” (for obvious reasons) probably emerged as my favorite, with steady and consistent left-right-left (and vice versa) transitions. Flicking the weight transfer from side to side using mostly the throttle and brake pedals then set me up for success at the higher speeds coming later in the day, which only ups the ante – and the risk of sliding out onto a low layer of unkempt snow maybe six to eight inches deep.
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One reassuring mantra of the day: “Everybody Spins.” For automakers, winter driving provides a perfect format for testing vehicle dynamics, electronic traction aid programming, and low-temp mechanical performance. For the drivers, it’s just a wonderful place to play at the limit, go past that line, and not need to worry about damaging cars. A rear-wheel-drive supercar will get stuck easily, but only from beaching up on the snow.
Later in the day, the circuits grew increasingly challenging. More decreasing radius turns that required a hard stab at the brakes to initiate rotation, then a hit of oversteer and perfect timing for holding gentle throttle through a counterintuitive moment of peaceful patience, trusting the Artura’s weight to swing around, then finally punching out at a sharp angle. I struggled to find a happy balance between the drifty fun line and more of a rally racing style, which requires cutting down the corners and keeping as straight as possible. Hollings demonstrated immense patience as I worked all day, my preconceived notions of ice driving from prior programs adapting now to the ice, the tires, and the McLaren’s incredible capability.
Toward the end of the day, out on the farthest course that measures over three kilometers long, the wind picked up noticeably. This didn’t help the temps feel any warmer approaching sunset, but also blew snow into little banks and drifts, creating inconsistent and variable traction levels that even my 20-15 vision struggled to spot in the flat Arctic light. This brought on a new level of focus that elevates the pulse, Hollings and I hollering out pace notes to each other in the rush, and I can admit to beaching the Artura once (but only needing a quick yank from a van, not one of the tractors).
Despite the hilarity of taking such a low-slung supercar ice drifting, the Artura performed more than admirably the whole day. The suspension damping, courtesy of that hydraulic roll control system, gobbled up the surprisingly choppy frozen lake surface with aplomb. Which only accentuated the telepathic steering wheel in my hand, the racecar-esque brake pedal at my left foot, and the visibility out the side windows of a compact yet reasonably spacious cockpit while barreling along at full opposite-lock.
The McLarens also handled the full day’s thrashing without fuss, and really only get sad if left stuck in the cold snow for extended periods awaiting a tow. After leaving the lake behind, we then tested our own ability to handle cold weather with a quick stint of nighttime ice karting. Tiny little rental karts proved surprisingly difficult to manage on a mini track just 570 meters long (1,870 feet) with an unexpected amount of elevation change. Minuscule tires, terrible steering, inconsistent brake and throttle response all made for utterly laugh-out-loud chaos. And certainly revealed – in retrospect – how miraculously a predictable supercar handles snow and ice.
Still, condensing a three-day customer experience into one while battling a bit of jetlag sure led to exhaustion. I happily returned to our headquarters at the spectacularly modern and welcoming Jávri Lodge ready for some hot tea, hoping to squeeze in a quick sauna before dinner and, in an ideal world, a good night’s sleep in the deep silence of snow-covered tundra.
The next morning, I awoke feeling modest aftereffects from the long day on the lake, mostly in my forearms and shoulders from working the steering wheel all day (and night on the ice karting track). Time for a piping cup of coffee – or two, and quick – because sled dogs awaited. These incredible Husky breeds, none of which resemble each other but all of which seemed raring to race across the crisp, snowy meadow, can run up to 40 miles per day. Or up to 100 miles a day in competitions such as the Iditarod, though we stuck with a restrained and relatively quick five-kilometer loop.
Somewhat hilariously, McLaren’s Product Manager Max Hunt pointed out that six dogs pulling a sled produce around 1.5 horsepower. At 18 to 27 kg each (40-60 pounds), the whole team weighs a bit more than the Artura’s lightweight hybrid system, including the batteries, that nonetheless produces just shy of 66 times the output. Unlike the Artura, though, the dogsled provides much less in the way of driver control other than braking with sharp spikes that dig into the snow. I put my trust in the team, breathing deeply in the bracing cold, reveling in the sound of silence as the sled skids glissaded across the snow, a peaceful reverie interrupted only by occasional overexcited yelping from the dogs.
Soon enough, our 5K came to an end, so we ducked back into a steaming lodge to huddle around the fire and sip another cup of piping hot coffee. And maybe, to daydream of another two days out on the lake, manhandling a McLaren as best I can manage.
Images: McLaren
