What the Endless Z has that's rarely seen on any street car is the massive array of ARC coolers, heat exchangers, overflow reservoirs, and pumps--a prerequisite for any trackbound Z. If you're counting, the only coolers missing are for power steering and suspension. The driveline and brakes have been similarly reinforced with robust, but extremely streetable parts, like the Endless six-piston front and four-piston rear calipers developed for Super Taikyu racing, fitted with prototype 14.5-inch and 13-inch two-piece E-Slit rotors.
With interviews and inspections done, we set off on a 40-minute trek through suburban traffic in search of some desolate mountain roads for test driving and photography. Out of habit, I head for the right-hand (passenger side) door. Except in Japan, there's a steering wheel and pedals on that side. This instantly sends our Japanese hosts into a mad scramble to change plans as if to let me drive from the outset. I, on the other hand, want nothing to do with pulling this belly-scraping, long-nosed, C-west carbon-clad nightmare out of the driveway. Five minutes of confusion and translations later, I finally manage to weasel my way into the proper passenger seat and prepare for the part I've been dreading most.
I had hoped that, being a race car, the Endless Z would be so blaringly loud that I wouldn't have to piece together some broken English version of all the questions I had for a GT driver as we made our way out of town. The car is no louder than our own Project Z. Aoki, though seeming far more comfortable, was probably asking himself why he was wasting a day schlepping some American around. The silence is only broken by the whiny Japanese pop video playing on the more-than-impressive entertainment system as we crawl to a stop at every single traffic light spaced 50 meters apart. I've lost whatever taste I had for Japanese pop music.
You can learn a lot about a car as a passenger. You just have to let the car do the talking and your ass the listening for a change. This machine is obviously well sorted. It idles like no race car could. I'm not suffocating on raw hydrocarbons spewing through the firewall and the car moves off from standstill like your average Camry. It even has A/C. Isn't this supposed to be a racer?
It's not until we find some tight turns that the beast shows its fangs. Without a kick of the clutch or tap of the brakes to unsettle the chassis, Aoki instantly puts the car on a dynamic sliding drift with just a quick tip-in of the throttle. And this is no overpowering ass-out, tire-melting single pass--this is much harder. All the way down the two-lane mountain road, he keeps the car dancing and gliding just beyond the limits of grip (no small feat for the Advan tires) as if we were just driving on snow. When we reach the bottom of the hill, he turns to me with an expression of mild amusement and politely gestures: my turn. I'd rather take my chances on ripping off the bumper while pulling the car out of the driveway.
I'm not comfortable until we are back in the safety of stop/go traffic, where we spend the next half hour alternating between first and second gear. There is nowhere to explore the Z's balance, but the surprising level of comfort from the rock-hard springs are a testament to either the valving in the ZEAL dampers or Japanese road construction workers. Throttle response is on par with most individual throttle-bodied race engines, while the Nismo twin-plate clutch is as easy to drive as most soft single-plate units. The NA tuning on this car is still miles ahead of anything our import tuners have to offer--on street or track.
Back at Arena Suzuki, Aoki and Mr. Koyama are back in filming mode. This time, Aoki is on the mic, doing the interview in Japanese and I'm to play the ignorant foreigner--interviewed in Engrish--after being caught snooping around the car. It's a no-rehearsal, one-take affair and I still cringe at the memory. I don't stay in Japan long enough to see my first foreign TV debut, but I'm not inclined to find out what an idiot I looked like--or the subtitles they decided to use in translation.