My terrifying, thrilling hot lap inside Toyota’s new Supra Supercar
What happens when someone who finds Adelaide traffic intense gets strapped into a 290km/h racing machine for the ride of her life? Watch the video.
I don’t consider myself a big car person.
If it gets me from A to B and doesn’t break down, I’m happy.
The most adrenaline-pumping thing I’ve done behind the wheel is overtake a couple of road trains. For me, that counts as extreme sport.
So when my boss asked if I wanted to do a hot lap in a Supercar, I couldn’t help thinking, I already find Adelaide traffic intense enough, how the hell will I survive the turbocharged version?
They reassured me I wouldn’t be behind the wheel, which is the only reason I cautiously agreed. Then I saw the car.
Toyota’s GR Supra Supercar is the new kid on the block in the Supercars game, gearing up to show off to crowds at the bp Adelaide Grand Final before joining the grid next year as the third manufacturer.
Black, low to the ground, and unapologetically sleek, it looked less like a car and more like a panther crouched on the track, ready to pounce. My blue Corolla at home, bless her, would take one look at it and quietly reverse into a hedge.
In the pit, the roar of its 5.2-litre V8 – an engine worth $140,000 on its own – had the same chest-thumping intensity as the Defence jets that used to thunder down the Darwin runway when I lived up north.
Standing beside it was Warren “Luffy” Luff, six Bathurst podiums, a racing veteran, and a man who seems permanently composed. The type who’s probably spent more time airborne over Mount Panorama than I’ve spent attempting to merge on South Rd without swearing. Luffy looks like someone who could hit 290km/h while eating his lunch.
If I was going to put my life in someone’s hands, his seemed like a good pair.
But the confidence wobbled the moment they asked for my emergency contact.
Kitted out in a race suit, gloves and a helmet on a warm spring day in Adelaide, I wandered over to a bloke inspecting the engine. He introduced himself as Adam Austin, who’s been managing Toyota’s project. I’m told he’d previously worked as a race engineer for Nick Percat and Ryan Wood, which sounds impressive, even if the finer details were lost on me.
“How fast are we going today?” I asked.
“So at Bathurst this will do 290,” he said with a knowing smile. “Here it’s a bit tamer, only about 250 to 260.”
A bit tamer? I laughed because crying felt dramatic.
“And the G-force?” I asked.
“The biggest thing will probably be the breaking, so the cars do almost two Gs in breaking and about one and a half Gs laterally …”
Right on cue, someone approached to clip a device to my helmet and anchor it to a something placed around my shoulders. “It’s like a seatbelt for your head,” they said, which was … comforting, in a way.
Adam’s explanation must have rattled me more than I realised, because our photographer Tim Joy wandered over and asked, “You good, mate?” Apparently I’d been staring at the car in total silence for five solid minutes.
I nodded, and before I could rethink the entire situation, we were walking to the pit lane. Game time.
Climbing into the Supra was not elegant. There were cage bars, harness straps and the realisation that once you’re wedged in, there’s no going anywhere. The crew tightened the belts until I remembered I had ribs. But once everything clicked into place, the nerves shifted to something closer to excitement.
We rolled out of pit lane, paused briefly while Luffy handed over my waiver (which had been stuck in the door seal, reassuring), an official collected it, and then we were off.
The acceleration didn’t build. It hit. A smooth, instant surge that pinned me back into the seat. The engine didn’t scream. It delivered a deep, confident rumble that made the whole car feel alive.
The first few corners were smooth enough that I foolishly started thinking, why was I even worried?
Then we hit a sharp turn at a speed my brain was not prepared to process.
My eyes went wide and I let out an involuntary, very embarrassing noise. Thankfully most of it was swallowed by the roar of the engine.
Luffy gave me a calm thumbs-up, which grounded me just enough to loosen my death grip on the harness and give one back.
By the second lap, the fear had burned off and I was laughing through the corners – a bit maniacally, if I’m honest.
When we rolled back into the pit, Luffy glanced over. “How’d you go?”
“That was sick,” I blurted.
My cheeks were aching from grinning like a lunatic the whole way around, high on adrenaline.
Is this how revheads are born? I wondered. Maybe I really should look into this Supercars stuff, I can absolutely see why people chase this feeling.
I climbed out, legs briefly forgetting how to work. Luffy waving me off with the calm demeanour of someone who’d just finished a crossword.
Would I go again? Absolutely.
Will it make me overtake a road train with slightly more confidence? … Let’s not get carried away.
Originally published as My terrifying, thrilling hot lap inside Toyota’s new Supra Supercar
