Track Test -Westfield XTR2By George Maddever  The author puts pedal to metal at Taupo
The Westfield XTR2 however is different. Looking every inch a miniature Le Mans prototype racer, it’s almost impossible to believe that it is actually road-legal. Looks deceive and, although it’s no practical hatchback, it’s more than capable of getting itself to and from the track as well as circulating rapidly.
In recent years, particularly in the UK, the popularity of trackdays has taken off. These are organised racetrack events where people can take their road (or race) cars and push them to the limit in a non-competitive, legal, low-risk environment. Cars such as the Lotus Elise, the Caterham Seven, the Honda Integra Type R and the Porsche GT3 are amongst the more popular trackday machines, each representing different takes on the theme of a pure driving experience.
With motoring, as in nature, the niche was invariably filled by the product of evolution and a new breed of car was born. A car that’s built exclusively for going quick around a track, with just enough in the way of equipment to pass as road-legal. This way the owner can drive it to the track, and so upholds the true “run what you brung” mantra of the trackday punter. These cars are cheap enough to be within reach of many trackdayers, yet expensive enough to pack some real race-car credentials underneath their skin.
Enter Westfield, a small car company in Kingswinford, England, that had made a name for itself by building kitset replica Lotus sportscars. Westfield began to cater for this market by spending much of the 1990s developing ever-wilder versions of their Lotus 7 replica. Quick to realise that it’s not all about the horsepower and more about the total trackday package, they were amongst the first niche manufacturers to start using high-performance Japanese motorbike engines to power their cars.
 XTR2 - a mini Le Mans car for road or track
On the back of “Megabird / Megablade” models, Westfield decided to develop the bike-engined concept to its logical conclusion, a super-lightweight, aerodynamically efficient, no holds barred track weapon. This was to become the XTR2. The new car was to be mid-engined and much lower and wider than any of their previous models. For construction, they stuck to what they knew; tubular steel spaceframe enclosed in a non-stressed composite bodyshell. Suspension was independent at each corner by way of unequal-length wishbones and adjustable coil-over-damper units. Power came straight from the, now ubiquitous, Suzuki GSXR-1300R “Hayabusa” sports motorbike.
This particular XTR2 is owned by Graham Nielsen and was bought direct from Westfield after serving duty as the launch press-car and also as a prototype during the latter development stages. Graham was searching for an ultimate weekend toy when he was seduced by Top Gear’s TV review of the XTR2. Being a Westfield development car, this particular example is a bit of a hotchpotch and lacks some of the refinement added to the production versions. Graham, however, has been slowly developing the car as time and funds allow, with the expert help of Phil Kennedy from Kennedy Design & Engineering
Resplendent in its original Westfield press-launch colours, it’s certainly one of the sharpest looking XTR2s out there. With the swooping, bewinged bodywork and overt ducting in the nose and both side pods, for the front brakes and radiator / oil cooler respectively, it certainly looks the part. One thing’s for sure, it certainly turns heads whether it’s being unloaded from a trailer at the track or bashing around the Hibiscus Coast back-roads.
Shortly after importing the car, Graham enlisted the help of Bernie Johnston, to fabricate a new engine cover. The object of this was to eliminate a known issue with the XTR2 where the shape of the existing air intake caused a low-pressure area directly behind it, causing undesired lift. The new, engine cover has significantly reduced this aerodynamic hindrance and in doing so helps to significantly clean up the airflow through the giant double-element rear wing. The result is increased stability and rear downforce, something that’s important given the car’s high-speed credentials. As an added bonus, the reprofiled intake also incorporates a modified airbox design allowing the maniacally high-revving Suzuki lump to breathe deeper with less restriction and induction noise than the factory design.
A significant modification to the car has been the addition of a ProShift system, which uses solenoids to actuate the sequential gearshift via F1-style paddles on the steering wheel. The system allows full-throttle upshifts and accurate clutchless downshifts, all without taking your hands off the wheel. A dash mounted indicator keeps the driver informed as to which ratio is currently engaged. A new carbonfibre dash panel was fabricated to better mount the gauge cluster and the peripheral controls.
Another important addition given Graham’s intent to actually use the car on the road every once in a while is a custom hydraulic system. This enables the front ride height to be raised by a couple of inches at the press of a button to clear everyday obstacles such as speed-bumps and driveway entries.
At a recent trackday at Taupo Motorsport Park, I was given the opportunity to get behind the wheel of this fantastic little machine and see exactly how much of the racecar intent has been carried over to the dynamics of the production car. I always find it a stirring mix of emotions when someone hands you the keys to a car as focussed as this. On the one hand there’s the exhilaration and excitement of being given the chance to drive something that offers such an undiluted driving experience. On the other there’s the sense of trepidation and apprehension of driving something with limits so high that, to explore them would most certainly exceed the capacity of this writer’s bucket-o-talent.
So it was with a quickening pulse that I stepped over that broad side pod and down into the cockpit. The driving position is as close as I’ve found to a single-seater in a sports car. It’s best described as being close to that of a Formula Ford but with more elbow room. It obviously it doesn’t quite have that same feeling of closeness across the shoulders either, especially on the left hand side.
Mechanic Phil has the nosecone off and is leaning over, looking down somewhere near my feet. Graham informs me that throughout the morning one of the master cylinders has been randomly and suddenly acting up, resulting in a total loss of pedal and retardation. “Can’t do anything about it today,” exclaims Phil “we’ll just have to make do and press-on”.
“I should be able to handle it.” I say as casually as I can muster flicking Graham what I hope is a reassuring smile. After I slide my helmet on and my face is hidden from onlookers, I wince and gulp hard as my pulse raises another notch.
Graham gives me a quick tutorial on how to start the engine, how to work the paddle-shift system, and a few pointers on how to get the car moving using a clutch that was originally designed for two-finger operation. Helpfully he also tells me that if I do spin it, the first thing to do it to stand on the clutch as rolling the car backwards tends to cause the transmission to, err... self-destruct.
With the key on, I pull the paddle shifter to select Neutral, depress the clutch and then the dash-mounted starter button. Behind me the engine spins quickly into life, sounding very much like the motorbike from whence it came. I select first gear and blip the throttle a couple of times to gain a feel for the pedal. I can clearly hear the engine bark its approval through the intake port about three inches from my left ear. I give it a few revs and ease the clutch out as gingerly as I can, treading the very fine line between stalling and vapourising a clutch that is already doing more work than its designer intended. Surprisingly, the car responds pretty well and without too much drama I pull out of the pit box and idle down pit lane. There... that wasn’t so hard!
I stop at the track entry and let the track controller know that I’m going out for a few laps while there’s relatively little traffic. He waves me on and I promptly manage to stall as I attempt to pull away, a timely reminder that I shouldn’t get cocky. A few tricky moments trying to get the unfamiliar paddle-shift system to re-select neutral and again I’m fired up and manage to pull out onto the track.
I’ve already sorted in my mind that the first two laps are to be treated as warmup and familiarisation before even beginning to lean on the car at all. As tricky as the car is to get started, once it’s on the move it’s actually incredibly intuitive. The paddle-shifter does exactly what it says on the tin, while the tight fit and low slung driving position help to really immerse the driver in the experience. After half a lap I’m amazed at how the super-quick steering and low mass, combined with the lack of inertia from the engine and drivetrain, seem to give an almost instant neural connection between car and driver.
Coming onto the long back straight I finally open the taps and pull through the gears. Bloody hell! The first thing that strikes you is the NOISE, I’m used to driving loud and brash cars, but with that intake doing its best to literally suck the ear from your head it’s on another level altogether. As the revs rise, the engine’s howl grows in pitch and volume until your very eardrums begin to tickle inside your head.
As the noise grows, so does the acceleration. The engine appears to bog slightly down low in the rev range, not badly, but it seems to labour just a touch below about 5,000RPM. However, above this the acceleration builds rapidly, feeling almost exponential in its growth. By the time the needle’s nears its redline at 11,000RPM your mind cannot keep up. In fact you really need one eye on the multi-stage shift lights to keep you ahead of the game when the throttle is nailed.
For the first few gearchanges, it feels as if something’s wrong with the ProShift system. The time between gears seems long, the break in acceleration very noticeable. It certainly feels quicker than the Ferrari “F1” system you get in the F355 and F360 but somehow it doesn’t feel as good as I’d expected. It’s not until later that I figure out that this is nothing more than a mind trick. Accelerating in a straight line in the XTR2 is an easy affair and you’re much less busy than with a conventional shift system. Couple this with a brain in fast-forward mode, pumped with adrenaline and you realise that it’s not a matter of the gearshift being slow, just that all of your senses are working at warp factor nine.
Onto my second lap I begin to do some exploratory work, stabbing the throttle aggressively in second gear out of slow corners to feel how the rear end behaves when provoked. At first the car seems to want to understeer as the weight comes off the front while the rear remains steadfastly glued to the bitumen. At higher revs though, this washes quickly through neutrality into a rather snappy oversteer that feels like it could catch me napping if I’m not careful. I consider myself warned.
Right, it’s time to stop pussyfooting around. One last check of the gauges to verify that everything’s in the green and I pull the XTR2’s nose into a late-apex on the approach to Taupo’s start-finish straight. Using this to get a decent exit speed I fire the little Westie down past the pits, jumping on the brakes at around 65m out from turn One.
I lean on the brakes as hard as I dare, the pedal feeling a little woolly and difficult to modulate, most likely due to the aforementioned master cylinder woes. Nevertheless, the deceleration is impressive and I find myself off the brakes and coasting a good few car-lengths before my turn in point. Working on the tried-and-tested “slow in, fast out” philosophy I find myself struggling to get the nose to turn in quite as I’d hoped. Squeezing the throttle down after I’d already missed the apex by a good metre only seemed to exacerbate the problem. No matter what I seemed to try, the XTR2 just wanted to understeer on corner entry. This would then transition quickly, and unpredictably, into a lurid slide that required all of my concentration to stay ahead of.
It then dawned on me that I was driving it like a road car, and that perhaps this wasn’t quite right. I’d had three or four rather sideways moments already without going backwards or into the barriers. This suggested that the XTR2 was content to carry a few degrees of rear slip angle without letting go in a big way. The tricky bit would be generating that angle in a predictable and controllable manner.
 The car is examined by race car veteran Maurice O'Reilly before the test
The same method was required in the faster corners also, but with even more brutality. At anything over 100km/h or so, that giant rear wing and cunning body shape push the grip levels through the roof. With the suspension set relatively soft, the high-speed grip begins to produce some noticeable body-roll that could do with being stiffened out just a touch with an anti-roll bar or slow-bump adjustment. I’m certainly not ashamed to say that through the fast left-right sweeper complex on the A1GP track I ran out of courage long before finding the limit.
While my clumsy driving wasn’t the most intuitive or fastest way of cornering, with the XTR2 in this setup, it’s about the best I could manage. After a few laps I found myself being able to lean on it more and more, each lap undoubtedly faster than the one that preceded it. Although I was trying to restrain myself from pushing too hard in someone else’s pride and joy, the XTR2 experience had taken over. The challenge of trying to nail that corner exactly right in a car so tricky is an addiction unknown to the likes of anyone this side of a heroin junkie. The three or four times I managed to get it just right had me whooping in sheer delight into my helmet.
So overwhelming the experience that I really lost comprehension of the pace I was carrying. The rate at which the XTR2 was able to reel in and gobble up some other, reasonably quick, machinery was scarcely believable. I even had to rein in my enthusiasm on a few occasions, backing off to what felt like a snail’s pace until a suitable passing opportunity presented itself. Even so, it was very tempting to ignore trackday etiquette and slice past them, mid-corner, in a silver/blue blur reminiscent of the LM Prototypes carving their way through lesser GT2 traffic.
All too quickly though, it was over. Perhaps the end was timely though because on the first corner of my cool-down lap the brake pedal went right to the floor. A lack of brakes wouldn’t have been pleasant had I still been pressing on. As I pulled to a halt in the pits and removed my helmet, my face physically hurt from the ear-to-ear perma-grin.
Graham admits there’s still a way to go in developing the car. As this goes to print, there’s a new set of wheels and tyres being organised ex-UK. The current Avon CR500 rubber is far too hard for the car and will be relegated to wet weather use. Once the car’s more suitably shod, there will be some tuning work done on the suspension setup to make it work better on track than the current road-biased setup.
I can’t wait to drive the car again in a more polished state as I’m sure there’s great untapped pace lurking within. I just hope that in doing so the feeling from behind the wheel isn’t changed for the worse as it’s probably the most fun I’ve ever had in a car to date. This coming summer, most of the kinks should be ironed out and this diminutive Westfield XTR2 should be ready for some big-game hunting on the track. Despite this, I know that it’ll still get used for a few back-road blasts, thus earning its accolade of being a true race car for the road. |
