Audi R8 – We Analyze Audi’s Bat-mobile

There are two reasons to come to the Audi Sportscar Experience (ASE) at Infineon Raceway. The first is simply to experience the Audi R8, a gauntlet-on-the-pavement creation from an automaker that has racked up impressive endurance laurels at proving grounds like Le Mans, but-until recently-had failed to translate racing success into a true flagship vehicle. With R8 wait-list times stretching into the years, would-be owners are mainly left pawing the car’s slick, rectangular brochure. The second reason to sign up for either the one- or two-day driving tutorial is to gauge whether the uproar surrounding the R8’s launch-the $110,000 car just nudged out the staggeringly impressive Ferrar 599 to grab Robb Report’s 2008 Car of the Year honors-can be backed up by hot laps on one of the most challenging racetracks in North America.

Drivers representing both camps huddle over cappuccinos and pastries inside the recently completed ASE headquarters. Dubbed Audi Forum Sonoma, it is the first of its kind in the world. While the automaker offers a range of driving programs in 42 countries, they are all roving in nature.

Perched perfectly over Turn One, the Forum offers a commanding view not only of racecars hammering uphill into Turn Two, but also of the rolling countryside. An obviously Teutonic theme reigns here-a silver-and-black mix of bare metals (recalling a racing garage with rolled-up doors), buttery leather (the furniture is elegantly post-modern), as well as impossibly clean glass windows and table tops. If the place looks more like a dealership than a driving school, it’s deliberate. “This building is essentially a showcase for everything the brand represents,” says Paul Gerrard, a former racer and principal in Emotive-the company that acquired Jim Russel Racing School in late 2006 and today operates both the subtly renamed Jim Russel Racing Drivers School as well as ASE.

“Traditionally, most Audi customers did not think in terms of heading to the track with their cars,” says Gerrard, acknowledging that competitors, such as BMW and Porsche, have a more long-standing connection to racing glories and therefore an easier time luring customers to their respective driving schools. “But between Audi’s Le Mans dominance and the new R8, everything is changing for us.”

That’s not to say Gerrard, and Audi for that matter, believes its clientele have racing aspirations. “This is a true experience as opposed to a school,” he says. “At Jim Russell, it’s about passing on real track skills over time. At the Audi Sportscar Experience, we’re here to give you the information you need to take this amazing car and simply have fun.”

Fun seems to be the unified mission of the dozen folks on hand who’ve paid %1,895 for this one-day even (the two-day program costs $3,495, and amounts to more track time to practice apexing and trail braking skills). There’s a retired private equity fund manager who’s flying the Ferrari flag on his jacket and Puma racing shoes, but is considering parking an as-yet-unavailable Audi R10 next to his F430 Coupe. There’s an Oracle veteran who drives an Audi S4 and, because only 400 or so R8s will annually make it to U.S. shoes, will be waiting more than a year before his white-with-carbon-fiber-side-panel baby pulls into his Silicon Valley dealership. And a quartet of thirtysomething cell phone software engineers who are mainly here because they know that actually driving a great car is infinitely better than logging virtual track time on a PS3 or Wii.

After some quick, classroom basics (principles of grip, braking and turning, as well as a diagram of Infineon’s complex turns), Gerrard walks us around the R8. He touts its hand-assembled birth, plays up its 55/45 front/rear weight bias, and explains how its exceptionally low center of gravity is due to engine placement. But look in the eyes of the assembled group, and it’s clear all they want to do is hop in and put this 4.2-liter, 8-cylinder, 420-hp sports car through its paces.

What was merely hinted at during Robb Report’s Car of the Year flogging of the R8 around Napa’s sinuous roads-seemingly endless grip, delicate steering, and a flexible transmission-was reconfirmed during two pre-track drills. The first found drivers in a lead-follow pattern snaking through cones in order to become familiar with the car’s handling. The second was a simple slalom run meant to pre-wire the class for a series of S-turns that would be taken with the same deft wrist-flick, but as far greater speeds. Finally, it was time to lap Infineon.

The track itself-which hosts everything from IRL rockets to NASCAR brutes-is not just the number of turns but the elevation changes that make some of those bends endless, off-camber nightmares with apexes so late that the novice driver is sure they’ve got it all wrong until the car miraculously winds up perfectly set up for a blistering exit.

Split into two groups, we take turns following in our instructor’s tracks, while he parcels out the occasional tip via walkie-talkie. Gerrard’s repeated comment rings in my head: “It’s not ‘Look down the road,’ because you must be at least a turn or two ahead of the car.” Of course, it is also “Look down the road,” Gerrard confesses later. “Your car simply won’t go where your eyes don’t look.”

These Zen-like racing mantras strick with me so long as the speed is manageable and all we’re doing is looking for the right line. But slowly-and surely-the speedometer tracks upward. That’s when the brain goes into tilt mode, and the R8’s wide tires begin to howl in protest, as the car is forced to contend with less-than-ideal physics thanks to my late apexing and braking.

Despite most of the drivers’ limitations (some, to be sure, are no slouches), a few things are clear. The car is no mere show pony, but a true derivative of Audi’s race-winning fare. Although I’ve got the air-conditioning blasting, the car never lacks for power as it rushes on command towards its 189 mph top end (I hit around 120 on the faster straights). As for balance and grip-thanks in large part to its Quattro system-the R8 almost makes its driver feel comfortable entering a turn at a less-than-ideal angle, knowing that all will be forgiven.

“This car is just awesome, more than I could have ever imagined,” says Jesper Andersen over a midday lunch of fresh-roasted flank steak. Andersen, 45, is the Oracle employee who wonders-with a knowing smile-how his boss, Larry Ellison, got his R8 first.

“It’s clear to me that I’ll never drive my R8 on regular roads like we’ve done here today, but it’s wonderful to know just what the car will do if allowed,” says Andersen.

A few tables over sit the cell phone software gang, friends who decided to “have fun burning up someone else’s brake rotors,” jokes Noah Hurwitz, 37, of San Francisco. Hurwitz says ASE has planted a seed in his head. “For a hundred grand, that’s essentially [Porsche] 911 territory. But that car is more what my dad or my doctor would drive. The R8 is different.”

Audi’s advertising-pushed engineering reputation appeals to this crew. “I see the brand as sort of a new age, technological sports car company, which is cool,” says Chris Lyon, 38. “That said, although it’s got all this capability, it also seems far more drivable than other supercars.”

The R8’s racing side is back on display for the remainder of the day, which is dedicated to repeated hot laps at increasingly fast average speeds. Though taking a downhill, sweeping hairpin turn in excess of top highway speeds seemed fool-hardy earlier in the day, it’s now a mere afterthought as the group comes comfortable with the track’s lines. While it’s true that one missed apex leads to a series of clumsy turns, those perfectly nailed blasts through the S’s with a balanced car more than make up for those awkward moments. We’re all still well below the R8’s capability-a reassuring thought as the car’s nose points toward a solid wall in order to set up for the slowest turn on the track, which will then lead into its fastest straightaway.

At the end of the day, ASE’s stable R8s-eight of them in use today ore more than anyone is likely to see in one group for a long time-line up in front of the Forum. Engines off, they come to rest like grey, black, and white cats, at once relaxed and ready to pounce. “This thing, I don’t know, it’s like the Batmobile,” says San Fransisco contractor David McMorran, 31. “I’m so glad that at this driving school, classroom time was at a minimum.”