Before plugging in the P85D, we attempt a few slides around the snow- covered parking lot. It's here I realize that there's no way to disable stability control.
Panic ensues. I disassemble half the car to access the computers and wiring. Fuses are yanked, ABS control units unplugged, and wheel-speed sensors disconnected. The P85D counters by entering a fail-safe front-wheel-drive mode and flashing every error message imaginable. I fully expect an enraged Elon Musk to appear on the touchscreen, screaming at me while he remotely shuts down the car. That doesn't happen. But I also never free the car from its electric prison.
As the P85D sits on the charger overnight in preparation for the next day's test, I phone Tesla HQ in Palo Alto, California, and beg an engineer to beam over a software patch. The answer is no. I call the engineer a spineless killjoy, then threaten to aim the P85D at a snowbank and test its autonomous braking system. The poor guy explains that Musk doesn't like turning stability control off. "Oh," I argue, "so the man who owns a hairy, scary McLaren F1 doesn't want to be spooked by his own electric sedan?"
Evidently, it's impossible to frazzle a Tesla engineer. He patiently explains that the P85D beat a Panamera in internal benchmarking in the snow and that they've programmed the P85D to "faithfully follow driver intent."
And what, I ask, if the driver's intent is to have fun? To be sideways with four roostertails of snow in the world's longest, quietest drift? He says I'm very likely the only Model S driver who would ever want this.
It's infuriating to know there's a brilliant chassis here but not being allowed to indulge it. It's also shocking how fast the P85D is despite all this—it catches the M5 within a few corners. With me riding in his wake, the BMW driver pushes even harder but only gets more sideways. It's a joy to watch, but the M5 is not nearly as capable as the Model S. No car here is—the P85D is so much faster than the other cars, I wind up tormenting them like those Lamborghinis back in California. Only this time, it is no fun at all.