There’s another musical element about this R8 V10 Spyder that’s much quieter, but even better and more significant than the engine wail. It’s the subtle “clink-clink” one feels as much as hears as the tall shift lever connects with the milled aluminum gate. And this, folks, is the part of the R8 that we need to celebrate the most because it truly is the last of its kind. Nothing about the R8 – or any other car for sale today – harkens back to the supercar bygone days the way this glorious work of art does. It’s splendid to look at, and even better to touch with the knurled aluminum knob having a decent heft to it.
The gear changes themselves are not as tricky as it might look, with the shifter wanting to go where it’s supposed to from gate to gate. The throws are long for a sports car and the clutch has significant travel before its engagement point on this car making smooth shifts something to work at. But that’s okay – this is supposed to be a car that not everybody can (or would want to) drive. A driver must learn and earn his speed with this machine, without simply flicking a paddle or relying on a computer to execute a no-brainer launch control leap into the next dimension. Within the first few hundred kilometres, it’ll all start to feel just right, and encourage the driver to press harder into the performance capabilities of the car, snapping off quicker and smoother shifts, and swinging the tach needle into stratospheric realms usually associated with motorcycles.
Plus, there is still the sensation of greater control over the car one feels with a proper manual transmission. If a quick pause in Neutral is required to give a gratuitous and noisy rev, so be it. Want to drop from fifth gear directly to a second gear crescendo? Go for it! Of course this sort of behavior also results in obscene fuel consumption. The government claims the V10 swills premium at a rate of 20 L for every 100 city kilometres driven, and 12 for every 100 highway.
I didn’t even bother to record my fuel consumption, partly because I didn’t want to feel guilty about pumping my family’s monthly grocery budget into the gas tank, and partly because I simply couldn’t figure out how to work the trip computer. Which brings to light the one down side of living with a car that is being celebrated for its old-school, analogue ways in a modern digital age: the R8’s electronics. The trip computer and infotainment system here remind us of just how far we’ve come in only a few short years in improving the ergonomics and functionality of these systems.