Gumpert Apollo

A pollo was a busy god. As one of the principal deities of ancient Greece (and later Rome), he was responsible for light and the arts, such as singing and poetry. And for spring, peace, youth, fortune-telling-even temperance. Unfortunately, he also had side projects as the god of death and sender of the plague.

Despite this, Roland Gumpert, managing director and driving force behind the eponymous sports car manufacturer in Altenburg, Germany, has called his creation Apollo-mainly because of the light. Because his car is a beacon. It hugs the ground, while every edge and curve of its carbon fiber body (set over a chrome-moly spaceframe) seems to brook no argument: I am a racing car and you are merely human...

Incidentally, Gumpert presided over much of Audi's rallying success in the '80s and his partner in this venture is Roland Mayer of MTM, the tuning house that brought us the Audi TT Bimoto. In keeping with Apollo's job description, probably only the youthful drivers among us will find it easy to clamber in. Everyone else will have to hope no one's looking. The doors open upward, hinged at the center of the roof, gullwing-style, allowing the more courageous to stand tall and hop into the bucket seats from the curb. As long as the steering wheel has been removed by using the quick-release fastener. And those broad door sills must also be overcome before attempting ingress. After that, the correct seating position is found by adjusting the pedals and steering wheel-the seats and four-point harnesses are fixed.

A quick look around the Apollo's interior is enough to drive home the message: this god doesn't believe in frivolity. A bit of Alcantara and a few Audi ventilator nozzles; the rest, including switches and instruments, is pretty spartan-a study in doing without. The Apollo concentrates on the essentials, although customers may specify air conditioning, navigation and a DVD player. A rear-view mirror is eschewed in favor of a camera.

The 4.2-liter Audi V8 puts out 650 hp, thanks in part to a pair of KKK turbos. This is a recipe for a wonderful sound, as expected from the god of song. However, the somewhat heavy clutch needs a deft touch so as not to kill the mid-mounted engine. Having managed that, the exhaust roars, the turbos hiss and the moving parts scream. Grabbing the long shift lever and charging through the gears with the fast-acting sequential transmission boots the car up to 186 mph in what feels like a laughable few seconds. Be content to believe that 224 mph is achievable.

In reality, the wide 345/55 rear tires have their work cut out transferring power to the road, despite the best efforts from the fully adjustable double wishbone suspension and the 42/58 front-to-rear weight distribution. May the muses of all ardent drivers be well disposed toward the 2,645-pound Apollo; it belongs on a track, preferably one that's been cordoned off, especially since it does without airbags and ESP. But the noise, cramped space and respect ensure that the experience can hardly be beaten.

What about temperance? No time for such nonsense. Anyone not capable of taming this car should be prepared for it to fight back. Devout prayers won't help with the $318,000 price, either.