The Morgan AeroMax is so unutterably gorgeous that you feel weak just looking at it

The side road is deserted, dark and wet as I head into the penultimate roundabout before the highway.

As always, getting the front end to turn in feels as tricky as coaxing a toddler to eat a sprout. Dab the brake, the nose starts to track in and the ‘apex’ passes by the offside wheel. Back on the power… but it’s still too early and the headlights push wide once more. Another dab on the middle pedal, less well executed this time, the weight behind transfers as the power comes back in and there’s a stab of correction needed as we join the dual carriageway.

Why, in the 21st century, would you make a car that handles like an early 911? Further still, why would you make one out of a hot hatch? And after you’d made it, what would make you think, ‘We should show this to the directors, get them to sell some’? The Renault Clio V6 (whose engine Porsche did actually tune) is about as far from a mainstream idea as it’s ever been possible to walk onto a forecourt and buy. It’s brilliant and it typifies the group of cars that I’m hoping is going to be gathered together at the racing track tomorrow. It’s a group that answers questions most people would never dare to ask, laughs in the face of ‘design by committee’ and celebrates?the ideals of the six-year-old in all of us. If they all turn up it will be the biggest breath of fresh air to hit southern England since the 1987 hurricane.

I’m the first to drive through the narrow tunnel and pop up into Goodwood’s atmospheric paddock the following morning. Mercifully the skies are clear above us, although the roads are incredibly greasy and everyone I speak to is expecting rain after midday. Then, as the clock sweeps past nine and I start to think I’ve turned up on the wrong day, the League of Extraordinary Motor Cars begins to arrive: Subaru Impreza 22B, Morgan AeroMax, Lancia Hyena, Alfa Romeo SZ, BMW M Coupe and M3 CSL, Ford Racing Puma, Mercedes-Benz CLK DTM AMG. Wow.

As the photographers get to work, I wonder where to start. So many questions, so much to stare at. Even in this group, though, nothing holds your gaze more than the Morgan, and so I decide to give in to the magnetic pull its shape seems to exert. It’s the bodywork that makes this car a ‘special’. Underneath it’s a standard Aero 8, complete with that car’s 362bhp V8, and even forward of the A-pillars its shape is indistinguishable from the roadster, yet the roadster never made people stop and stare like the ’Max. That Bugatti Atlantic rear end with its Lancia Thesis lights and offset number plate makes the car so unutterably gorgeous that you feel weak just looking at it.

‘The Hyena was an expensive car when new, and rarity has ensured that it remains expensive now, with prices sitting at around $ 160K’

I love the true story behind the shape too. Originally it was a one-off designed for (the perfectly named) Prince Eric I Sturdza by Matthew Humphries, a 21-year-old design student who went to Morgan on a placement. When it was displayed at the Geneva motor show in 2005, however, it was clear that more were going to be built, and eventually 100 were.

It feels almost equally special sitting inside, with the long bonnet swooping into the distance and the beautifully vaulted roof above you tapering to a point behind. To drive, it feels as you want it too, with the front wheels needing to be poured into a corner some time before the cockpit arrives there. And then there’s the noise from the side-exit exhausts… perfect.

Next up is a special that could prove a stumbling block for many in the picture round of a pub quiz. Just 28 Hyenas were built. They were the brainchild of Paul Koots, the Lancia importer for the Netherlands, and Zagato, and you can see why they thought it was a good idea. A lighter, more powerful, two-seater coupe version of an Integrale sounds like an awesome plan. Unfortunately Lancia didn’t really agree, so to make each one a complete ’Grale was purchased, stripped down in Holland, sent to Zagato in Italy for re-clothing in its new aluminium/composite skin, then shipped back to Holland for final assembly. All of which made for a very expensive car when it was sold new. Rarity has ensured that it remains expensive now, with prices sitting at around $ 160K…

If I’m honest, it doesn’t look like much when you see it. Small, slightly squashed and very green is the general impression – ‘Kermit with a rocket up his arse!’ as one chap put it. The door doesn’t open terribly wide but once inside the sheer profusion of carbonfibre is overwhelming. The dash, the door cards, the A-pillars, they’ve all got that slightly old-fashioned and fragile-looking narrow-weave early carbonfibre. The seat doesn’t feel like it’s any lower than in a standard Integrale but the double square bubble roof is definitely lower and the end result is that your forehead feels like it’s touching the top of the windscreen.

‘The SZ would vie with a Ferrari F40 or a Lamborghini Diablo for road presence – and would probably win’

Undaunted, I set off and instantly the Hyena feels lighter and keener to change direction on its OZ wheels than a standard Integrale. With this fine, recently serviced example putting out 275bhp, it feels genuinely rapid too, and 0-100kph in 5.4sec feels very much on. Is it special? Absolutely, though I think perhaps the idea slightly outstrips the execution.

The first thing I notice as I settle into the Alfa SZ’s laid-back driver’s seat is the A-pillars. They’re exactly the same upside-down hockey- stick shape as the Hyena’s. The windows are the same too. The SZ might have been designed in-house at Alfa Romeo and mechanically based on the Alfa 75 but suddenly it’s clearer than ever that it was built at Zagato. Glancing around the cabin, the switches and light on the dash for the adjustable Koni hydraulic dampers mark out the SZ as something else. Test drivers reportedly achieved up to 1.4G in corners, but there’s no chance of that today (SZs are notoriously tricky in the wet), and although the 210bhp V6 is as sonorous as you’d expect, the overall impression after 20 minutes around the lanes is of an old-fashioned saloon car.

‘With no electronic nannies, a long bonnet and interesting traction, there’s a rather “modern classic” feel to the M Coupe experience’

Which makes it even more of a cold slap in the face when you get out and look at the futuristic bodywork. Bluff and butch and apparently designed by an origami master (except for the wheels, which seem to be making a stand for the circular with their telephone-dial design), it is extraordinary. ‘Il Mostro’ would vie with an F40 or Diablo for road presence and probably win. Yes, you could put your fist into some of the glassfibre body’s panel gaps, but where the Hyena seems overpriced, the SZ, at $ 32K for a good one, looks like a snip. It is a special that sums up Alfa absolutely perfectly.

But if it’s not a surprise that Alfa produced something like the SZ, it definitely was a surprise when BMW unveiled the M Coupe. You either loved or hated the breadvan, but it’s hard to imagine a more rear-wheel-drive looking car. The back tyres are 245 in section, but from the steroidal rear arches you wouldn’t be surprised if it said 345 on the sidewall.

The M Coupe was developed by a team of BMW engineers in an attempt to make the Z3 into the drivers’ car it should have been, but they had a tough time convincing the board to put it into production. Thankfully they succeeded. As in the AeroMax, it’s hard to credit that the addition of a roof to a car could make it feel so different to sit in, but it does, with everything compact and cosy around you, like you might need to keep your elbows tucked in. As you’d expect given the intentions behind it, the M?Coupe is 2.7 times stiffer in its body than an M?Roadster and unsurprisingly is much better to drive as a result. However, with the surprisingly large steering wheel, no electronic nannies, a long bonnet and interesting traction there’s a rather ‘modern classic’ feel to the whole experience. It’s great fun in a decidedly rear-wheel-drive way…

And what the M Coupe is to rear-wheel drive, the Ford Racing Puma is to front-wheel drive. Although the Puma’s rear track was widened by 90mm, it’s the 70mm wider front track that makes the impact. Tickford replaced the standard steel front wings with swollen aluminium ones that imbue enough purpose to make the Puma feel perfectly at home in the same garage as an M3 CSL or 22B.

No two designs of bucket seat seem to grab your body in the same way and the Sparco ones in the FRP go for the hips. Alcantara adds to the interior’s intent, particularly the rich blue cloth on the little steering wheel. With a hike of just 30bhp, this is no Focus RS approach to creating a fast Ford, but while its outright pace might not make the Racing Puma memorable, its handling certainly does. The nose reacts Elise-like to the slightest twitch of the wheel, darting around even in a straight line on bumpy roads. In the corners the front feels so stiff and remains so flat that there’s almost zero progression in the wet. It feels like the car is trying to pivot around the blue oval on its grille and grip becomes understeer becomes lift-off oversteer in rapid succession. Happily, with such instinctive steering it’s easily catchable, but it leaves you in no doubt that this Puma was designed with a circuit in mind. It’s massively desirable and I love Ford for producing it, but the standard car is actually better for road use.

Which is exactly what was said of the M3 CSL when it arrived in 2003. You only had to think about the centre-of-gravity-lowering carbon roof, or see the beautiful boot spoiler flicked up like a wave about to break, or hear the nape-prickling induction note to feel you needed a CSL more than you needed your genitals. But then reports came back that it wasn’t worth the extra money, that the bespoke but extreme Michelin Cup tyres made it all grip and no fun.

Of course, those tyres were actually optional. Almost all owners now run their CSLs on more ordinary rubber and when you try one of these cars you realise that the ultimate M3 is truly sublime. Climb inside and, like the Puma, there’s lots of Alcantara, but here it’s backed up by carbonfibre door panels and bucket seats that seem to support you under the hamstrings so that your feet feel light on the pedals. The SMG gearbox was always thought to be slightly sacrilegious, but as we’ve got more used to paddle systems we’ve appreciated just how good it is. The car feels more than the 110kg lighter BMW claimed, too, floating through the corners as though there’s no mass at all above the level of your ankles. And oh, the balance – perfect front-engine rear-wheel-drive balance. Surely life wouldn’t be so terrible as a eunuch?

‘You only need to hear the nape-prickling induction note to feel like you need a CSL’

There have been lots of iterations of Impreza and Evo over the years, all capable, as we know, of covering ground with phenomenal, supercar-rivalling pace. But there’s only one you could really place in a collection next to an F1 or an F40. Unlike most Subarishis, the 22B wasn’t produced with an eye on homologation, it was produced in celebration, in recognition of 40 years of Subaru. It had an engine bored to 2.2 litres, lightweight forged pistons, a custom fuel-rail, a driver-adjustable centre diff, Bilstein dampers controlling BBS wheels, and bodywork from the lightweight two-door WRX RA shell but with the rear arches cut away and new blown ones welded in place to accommodate the 80mm-wider rear track.

The tight clutch and general absence of slack in all the controls immediately grab your attention. It’s a car that’s eager, wants to be driven. At the time it was deemed too stiff, and compared with an RB5 or P1 that seems a fair accusation, but next to more modern cars the 22B’s ride is actually perfectly acceptable. The roads are still horribly slimy when I go out on my now well-trodden test route, yet as the first testing corner arrives (off camber, right-hander, trees close, third gear in this grey import’s short-geared ’box), the steering is perfectly weighted and dripping with unbelievable amounts of feel. Get on the power and the rear instantly steps out a fraction, then checks as you hold the throttle and put in exactly the right amount of counter-steer. This is how you want a four-wheel-drive car to be set up. You can see why Colin McRae had one and loved it. It’s with you all the way, honed as though the whole car has been blueprinted and built to the finest tolerances. I’ve wanted to drive one for absolutely ages.

‘You can see why Colin McRae had an Impreza 22B and loved it – it’s with you all the way’

With one car left to drive this doesn’t feel like the ideal time for rain to start splattering onto windscreens, particularly not when the one car left is a CLK DTM. Mercedes didn’t do press drives of the DTM, it just sold them. You might wonder why it produced this car at all, as it was launching the SLR at the same time. Except, of course, Mercedes had turned to McLaren for the SLR and not AMG, so it might be fair to surmise that this is Affalterbach’s two-fingered salute to Woking. A special born out of spite.

From the outside you can’t help but be impressed by the bodywork extensions. Don’t be fooled by the soft top either – this car still has the full 574bhp and 590lb?ft. Inside there is an incredibly bespoke feel. The small plate of tiny toggle switches with initials etched next to them feels like it could have been made for a one-off, let alone one of 180, and despite the sat-nav, keyless go and other luxuries, there’s a sense of stripped-out, echoing emptiness when you sit in the car, backed up when you manually slide the fixed carbon seat into position.

There are just five gears in the auto ’box, but as the road unravels in front of me about twice as fast as in anything else I’ve driven today, five seems plenty. The 5.5-litre V8 was and is a magnificent powerplant, never feeling stressed, and it is shown off to devastating effect in the DTM. The car seems incredibly laterally stiff as it turns into corners, but it also feels amazingly stiff longitudinally so that every millimetre of throttle launches you forward. It’s big but it’s precise, and it’s so controllable that you don’t feel afraid to light up the rears, which is just as well given the rain. I would love to try the coupe version as you do get some curious wobbles over bumps which you know wouldn’t occur if you had a tin-top, but even driving the DTM Roadster you can suddenly see where the DNA for the Black Series cars originated.

Like the fine line between genius and madness, creating one of these specials is like treading a tightrope. Don’t go far enough and it’ll feel like something from the marketing department not the engineering back-room. But draw one crazy line too many or specify too extreme a tyre or damper and you might have something unique but also unsatisfying. And the more extraordinary you try to make something, the finer the balancing act and the greater the chance must be of slipping off the wire. As I walk up to the mk2 Clio V6 at the end of the day I ponder that you only need to drive the mk1 version of this car through a long, fast corner to see how thin the line is…

Reaching under the Ferrari 355-esque overhang to find the door handle, the drama of the Clio tingles through me again. The absurdity of having the engine basically inside the car with you draws a smile every time. Perched up high, you’re not in the most desirable seating position for a mid-engined V6 slice of exotica, but that’s a lingering vestige of the donor car, a reminder of just how remarkably far this Clio has travelled from its shopping trolley origins.

‘Cars like these take your breath away not just with their boldness but with their very existence’

It needed Renaultsport to take the Clio V6 back in-house from Tom Walkinshaw Racing and another two and a half years to make it really enjoyably driveable and magnificent rather than just mad, which just goes to show that the path to creating cars like those we’ve gathered here isn’t always easy. But when the result is a sublime special, a car that takes your breath away with not just its boldness but its very existence, then both the car and the people behind it really do deserve our adulation all the more.