Most million-dollar hypercars are marketing stunts.
Big name on the nose, “only five made” claim, huge launch event, then total silence. They vanish into private garages. Apollo tried that in 2017. They promised a V12 monster that would crush the competition. Only ten built.
It sounded insane. Then it disappeared.
For nine years, the IE was a ghost.
From Gumpert to Apollo
You have to remember the Gumpert Apollo first. The Top Gear track lap icon. The bonks, the chaos. Then Gumpert filed for bankruptcy in 2012.
Apollo bought the pieces. Rebuilt them. Hired people who actually build cars, not just dream about them. The goal? A modern GT1 racer. Something with purpose.
They built ten. Sent them off. Quietly.
The best people were sought… told to get on with it.
Then the company changed owners again. Influencers got a glimpse. The rest of us got nothing but rumors. Now, with a new “EVO” model coming, Apollo finally let a journalist drive the original IE.
TL;DR: It works. And it’s funny. And it’s fantastic.
Carbon Fiber Aggression
Look at it. Really look at it.
Jowyn Wong designed the IE. He didn’t draw lines, he sculpted chaos. Carbon fiber everywhere. Angles that attack. A fixed rear wing so big it looks like a mistake. Cooling ducts the size of doors.
It’s a spaceship. If your spaceship needed a key and a parking permit.
Getting inside is an adventure. You clamber in through wing-doors. You don’t sit on a seat; you lie in the carbon tub. They scanned the owners for hip and butt dimensions to make the mold fit perfectly. You adjust the pedals, the wheel, and then you’re prone. Like a Formula 1 driver, but with AC. And nice leather.
It feels exclusive. Alien, almost.
The V12 Wakes Up
No keyless entry. No “Start” button on the dash.
There is a hidden key slot in the center stack. Then there’s a big flap button in the ceiling. You push it. The 6.3-liter naturally aspirated V12 coughs. Then screams. The whole chassis buzzes. It sounds excited.
The transmission is a six-speed sequential. Old school. You have to use the clutch for reverse. Neutral. First gear.
Modern cars hold your hand. Press go. Done.
The IE judges you.
My first start? A stall. Of course. With the boss and the test driver watching me nervously stab the controls. Embarrassing. Easy to do.
But once I got moving, the panic subsided. The clutch can go. The paddle-shifts do the rest.
Linear Violence
It weighs 3,086 lbs. Light.
About as much as a Lotus Emira, really.
Step on the gas, and the thing lunges. No turbo lag. No electric motor hesitation. Just straight-line purity. Apollo claims 0-60 mph in 2.7 seconds.
Put your foot through the floor. The V12 howls. The g-force pins you back. The digital speedo numbers scramble upward. It’s violent. It’s smooth. It’s terrifyingly direct.
Apollo wanted a GT1 feel. They nailed it.
Shift with the paddles and you get a heavy “thunk” from the gearbox. Real mechanics clicking. Not simulated sound. Just metal.
The steering? Pure Lotus magic. Light but tactile. You can feel every pebble on the asphalt. It feels like an Elise that gained a V12 heart and a dangerous attitude.
Where are you going? Look down. The front wheel arches are right at your eye line. You always know where the nose is. Point, steer, drive. No guesswork.
Need to stop? Massive AP Racing brakes. They stop the car dead. Just like that.
Nine Years Later
Nine years since this thing was shown to the world.
A long time to wonder if the hype was real.
It’s not only a real thing… but the hype… was, in fact, legit.
The wait was worth it. The IE isn’t a joke. It’s a genuine engineering marvel wrapped in absurd aesthetics.
Which raises a question.
If this beast is already perfect…
…how on earth does the new EVO model improve on this?
