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Porsche's Cayenne EV is nearly here – and we've been for a ride

Porsche's Cayenne EV is nearly here – and we've been for a ride
We go up Goodwood's famous hillclimb in one of the most important cars out of Weissach in modern times It’s fairly tall. And quite large. Not quite Range Rover large, maybe, but on the way. The new Porsche Cayenne EV – in which I’m about to take to the Goodwood Festival of Speed's hillclimb at full speed – is the biggest Porsche they make.  We’re sitting high. You might imagine that cars with three-second 0-60mph potential ought to be squeezed right down onto the road, but not this one. From my vantage point I look forward along the track, down the tree-lined avenue to the first double-apex right-hander, wondering what this Cayenne’s body roll will feel like when we get there at full noise.  Actually, I guess I’ve already got an idea. This is a Porsche, and a fat-tyred Porsche with latest-gen active dampers at that. I’ll back it to stay planted in a 1g corner. There are other good reasons for this Cayenne’s height. For one, we’re sitting on top of a 100kWh-plus traction battery. And despite what I understand to be an output of more than 1000 horses from its two-motor set-up, this machine is also claimed to be a competent off-roader, which means it needs ground clearance. My driver is Gabriela Jilková, a successful GT racer from the Czech Republic who does a lot of development driving for Porsche, especially in fast stuff. She’s keen to move up the ranks from GT4 racing if the chance comes. Which it’s bound to do. 'Quick Gabi', as she’s known, looks small yet very much at home in the Cayenne EV’s big, bolstered seat, but as we ease quietly up to the line, she’s already wearing that expression of calm concentration you see on the faces of serious racing drivers accustomed to the tension of a full-on start.  Suddenly we’re at the head of the queue. The Taycan ahead disappears around the track’s double right-hander and now it’s our turn. This may be an EV but we’re hearing the Cayenne’s optional synthesised V8 burble at proper volume. And here, it seems entirely appropriate. The Goodwood starter gives us the thumbs-up. I expect extremely hard acceleration but what I get is an explosion. My head hits the restraint behind, I’m depressed several inches into upholstery that previously felt firm and my innards are rapidly rearranged. The loads are all instant, yet it’s surprisingly quiet in here.  Nobody will yet tell me how much torque this thing has, but it’s got to be four figures of foot-pounds. Even though it’s all deployed at once via four fat 22in Pirelli P Zeros, there’s barely a squeak of wheelspin. That’s what electronics can do.  The trees either side are a blur, and we’ve got to be doing 90mph when we turn in to that first double-apex. Gabi dabs the brakes – I think – though retardation probably comes as much from this EV’s powerful regenerative braking. We clip the grass apexes twice and then the awesome acceleration begins again. Out of the trees, the track straightens and widens. I glimpse thousands of blurred faces either side as our Cayenne bolts past the big house on the left and under the bridge at a speed that in other hands might seem deeply crazy. There’s time for a lightning glance at Gabi – still ice cool, making tiny, timed steering movements – and then we’re approaching Molecomb, the reverse camber left-hander hidden beyond a little brow that has been the ruin of many a worthy Goodwood entrant over the years. Not this time. We storm through it as if on rails, my body pinned into the seat. As we burst into sunlight, I’m aware again of crowds in stands on either side. Then we see the famed Flint Wall straight ahead.  It looks like a serious obstacle at first sight, but when you get there, it’s a fast, precise, right-then-left jink, easy for Gabi and the Cayenne. Transitions like that can upset high-riding cars, but the Porsche is planted like a sports car. This is a sports car. The rest of the run is easy, a big left and right, and then we’re back under the shade of the trees. Up a shaded tunnel we go, flashing across the finish line. This may well be the quickest electric minute of my life. I’ve made an agreement with myself to glance at the speedo as we finish, but of course I forget. It's hard to remember stuff in an environment like this but our speed has got to be 100mph-plus. Gabi says 115mph. I see the blurred face of the finish-line marshal and then it’s over.  Speed bleeding away, we ease up to the marshalling loop at the top of the hillclimb, where you wait for other runners in your batch to congregate for the dog-slow return to the pits. “Good,” says Gabi with a contented smile. “Fantastic,” say I.

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