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First drive: the BAC Mono (by Top Gear)
The new single-seater British hypercar takes to the streets for the very first time
It would be easy to dismiss the single-seat BAC Mono as another garage-build special, another ‘racecar for the road' from a British start-up company, with a supercar-crushing power-to-weight ratio and a chassis constructed from bits of old washing machine and blind hope.
But the Mono is different, and not just because of its conspicuous lack of passenger seating. Though its headline stats are suitably devastating - 280bhp and a 540kg kerbweight means 519bhp per tonne, a 0-60mph time of 2.8 seconds and a top speed of 170mph - it's the sheer quality of the Mono that sets it apart. This is a pocket-sized masterpiece of engineering.
Directly behind the central seat, a Ford Duratec four-cylinder - worked over by Cosworth with a dry sump, forged pistons and con-rods - lurks exposed, butted up against a Xylon-coated six-speed sequential gearbox. This Hewland transmission, borrowed from an F3 racer, drives the rear wheels through a limited-slip differential. About the powertrain, the Mono's pushrod suspension clings gracefully to its tub like a spiders-web.
As the first media trusted to drive the Mono on the road, Top Gear is delighted to report that the BAC rides sublimely. With 10cm of wheel travel and perfectly judged damping, it bumbles over rutted city roads as calmly as a posh saloon. In fact, drive it gently and the Mono is astonishingly civilized and tractable, with none of the oh-bugger-it's-about-to-stall twitchiness of your run-of-the-mill trackday special.
But who wants to drive this thing gently? Find a few yards of open, empty road, wedge the accelerator deep into the pedal box and the Mono reveals itself to be... quick. Very quick. Absurdly quick. Quick enough to tear a neat single-seater hole in the space-time continuum. This midget monster serves up the sort of acceleration that leaves you screaming blind obscenities into your race helmet while simultaneously cackling like a madman. Almost as shocking as that momentous, massless acceleration is how easy, how natural it is to drive the Mono fast. Lying almost on your back in the dead centre of the chassis, a wheel at each corner, engine behind your head and a never-ending slug of even, addictive power, it's an act of instinct to thread the Mono from corner to corner, rear tyres chatting convivially with your bottom.
At the very limit, there's a hint of understeer to prevent you headbutting the Armco, but for the most part, the BAC is deliciously neutral. If you're used to road cars - even supercars - the Mono requires a recalibration of your brain to its physics-warping abilities: brake deeper, turn in later, get on the power earlier. This is a supernaturally good track car. Sure, £80,000 is a lot of cash for a car that'll require you to strap your significant other to the roll-hoop if you're planning a romantic weekend away together but, given the sheer depths of its performance and engineering, the Mono looks like a bit of a bargain to me.
But pleasing mere humans is one thing. Impressing Top Gear's white suited racing driver is quite another. To find out what Stig thought of the BAC Mono when he thrashed it on track, you'll have to pick up this month's issue of Top Gear magazine...
Picture: James Lipman
So... an emissions-proof interior? Briggs smiles. "A synthetic suede originally developed for use in nursing homes, actually," he explains. "It's a variant of Alcantara designed to wipe clean after even the worst... accidents. Since the Mono's upholstery had to be weatherproof, we figured it was a good material to use." This story reveals a lot about the BAC Mono. It would be easy to pass this off as another garage-build special, another ‘racecar for the road' from a British start-up company, with a supercar-crushing power-to-weight ratio and a chassis constructed from bits of old washing machine and blind hope. But the Mono is different, and not just because of its antisocial seating plan. Though the headline stats are suitably devastating - 280bhp and a 540kg kerbweight means 519bhp per tonne, 0-60mph in 2.8 seconds and a top speed of 170mph - it's the Mono's sheer quality that sets it apart. This is a pocket-sized masterpiece of engineering.
A bit of background on Briggs Automotive Company. Since brothers Neill and Ian Briggs set up their consultancy firm 16 years ago, they have designed and engineered cars for some of the biggest manufacturers in the world: Porsche, Mercedes, Ford and more. Though they keep details of their back catalogue quiet, Neill admits to engineering the MkI Focus RS, which isn't a bad car to have on your CV. So when, four years ago, the brothers drew up their own single-seater road car, they wanted it to reflect the very pinnacle of small-volume, high-end design. "We wanted to make the ultimate formula racer for the road," says Neill. "And the ultimate racers are single-seaters. In terms of dynamics, you always have a compromise with offset seating, so just one central seat was always part of our original concept. We love the Atom, but we wanted to take the classic British lightweight concept into the 21st century..."
The Mono was shaped in CFD with the help of Stuttgart University's FKFS department, one of the world's leading authorities on aerodynamics. Every inch of its bodywork is honed to smooth airflow. Not that there's much bodywork: the Mono is hardcore engineering pornography, with all its oily functional parts left naked. Directly behind the central seat, a 2.3-litre, naturally aspirated Cosworth four-cylinder - originally a Ford Duratec unit, but treated to a dry sump, forged pistons and conrods - lurks exposed, butted up against a Xylon-coated, six-speed sequential gearbox. This Hewland transmission, borrowed from an F3 racer, drives the rear wheels through a limited-slip diff. About the powertrain, the Mono's pushrod suspension clings gracefully to its tub like a spider's web.
Almost as shocking as the momentous, massless acceleration is how easy, how natural, it is to drive the Mono fast. It's a grim cliché to describe a car as an extension of your body, but here it's actually true. Lying on your back in the dead centre of the chassis, a wheel at each corner, engine behind your head and a never-ending slug of even, addictive power, it's an act of instinct to thread the Mono through corners, rear tyres chatting convivially with your bottom.
At the limit, there's a frisson of understeer, but for the most part, the BAC is deliciously neutral. It's easy to explore the Mono's limits, to push harder and harder without fear that it'll deposit you in the Armco. Despite its compliance on the road, there's not an ounce of squish or lean here on the track. If you're used to road cars - even supercars - the Mono requires a recalibration of your brain to deal with its physics-warping abilities: brake deeper, turn in later, get on the power earlier. Darting from apex to apex with joyous, weightless agility - gearchanges firing like buckshot - this is a supernaturally good track car. Ten laps in, cackling insanely to myself as I tip into the Foulstons chicane, a familiar white figure strides into the middle of the track, holding a white, gloved hand outstretched in front of its white, helmeted head. Stig.
I slam on the brakes and come jittering to a stop a couple of feet in front of him. Stig, naturally, doesn't flinch, giving only the faintest flick of his right paw to gesture me from the Mono. I unstrap and exit from the car as rapidly as my portly frame will allow... Fifteen minutes and a couple of shoehorns later, I extricate myself from the depths of the Mono. As if to mock my ungainly exit, Stig slithers like mercury into the cockpit and fires off down the track, wringing the Mono out all the way to its 8,500rpm red line before upchanging with a crunching sonic thump.
Stig doesn't believe in taking time to acclimatise to a car. On his first lap, he exits the cambered Shell hairpin absolutely sideways. If he has testicles - and I'm not volunteering to find out - they're surely constructed of carbon-titanium. Stig is drifting the Mono. Unimpressed, the Mono snaps angrily back, lining up the Stig for a direct impact with a tyre wall, but our tame racing driver simply keeps his foot in, pelting across the grass for a couple of hundred yards before rejoining the track in a flurry of mud. Just a typical day in the life of Stig, but sobering proof that the Mono isn't a car for going sideways in the hands of mortals. For lap after lap, Stig pounds the Mono. No stopping him now. As we're considering hunting for a tranquilliser gun, the Mono crosses the finish line for perhaps the 20th time and splutters to a halt, out of fuel. Stig hops unapologetically from the car, vaults the pit wall and scampers to the sanctity of garage 17.
Stig feedback is never easy to garner, but the man in white seems impressed. His criticisms are minor: he'd like a greater blip from the gearbox on downchanges (an improvement already on the way), stiffer roll-bars at the front and a slight softening at the rear to cancel out the Mono's tendency to understeer. The BAC engineers scribble notes furiously: they're still tweaking the chassis set-up before signing off the final car. So keen is Neill to perfect the Mono, I feel a bit disappointed that the only real criticism I can add is that the LCD screen on the wheel - the sole source of information in the cockpit - is unreadable in direct sunlight. We'll survive.
Truth is, this single-minded single-seater is a singular success. Sure, £80,000 is a lot for a car that requires you to strap your significant other to the roll-hoop if you're planning a romantic weekend away, but, given its cortex-melting performance and engineering, the Mono looks a veritable bargain from where I'm standing. If you're happy to leave your inflatable crocodile at home, the Mono is one of the great drivers' cars of 2011. Even incontinent drivers.
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