Renault Sport Clio V6 – Untamed at Twenty

The Renault Sport Clio V6 is – alarming though this may be – twenty years old. Twenty. How did that happen? Who let the year 2000 be twenty years ago? It seems like it was only a moment ago that we were being blinded by the sheer lunacy of the mid-engined Clio. And while that may well have been two decades ago, don’t think for one second that the bonkers nature of this car has softened. In fact, in a world of electric cars, low emissions and other sensible things, we would be keen to argue that the Clio V6 is, in fact, even more bonkers thanks to the passage of time. It’s one of those cars you look at and think ‘wow, they actually did that’. 

The muscular little Clio was first unveiled at the 1998 Paris Motor Show as a concept, but it was not born out of any desire to see the road. Instead, it was an answer to the needs of motorsport. In fact, Renault needed it for the Clio V6 Trophy series, which was introduced to promote the newly launched second generation Renault Clio. Replacing the Renault Sport Spider Trophy, the series toured some of Europe’s most famous circuits with the performance of the heavily reworked Clios and the premise of closely matched racing attracting several top drivers.

In the UK, the series took in such circuits as Donington Park and Silverstone, while a few cars would also run in the British GT Championship that also included the likes of Snetterton, Knockhill, Brands Hatch and Rockingham.

With a 3.0-litre V6 engine producing 285 bhp, rear-wheel drive and a short wheelbase, the specialised race Clios were thrilling to both drive and watch. The competition models had relatively little in common with roadgoing versions of the best-selling front-wheel drive hatchback, but all that changed with the 1998 Paris Motor Show.

That’s when Renault, as part of its 1998 Centenary celebrations, announced that the V6 machine wouldn’t just be for the track. It would also be, in limited numbers, for the road. A hark back to the mid-engine Renault 5 of the 1980s, it would be a celebration of speed and of course, engineering. A preliminary development and production study from British-based specialist TWR (Tom Walkinshaw Racing). The report confirmed the project’s feasibility and that the production car could reach the Renault required high levels of quality, safety and road performance.

Renault and TWR didn’t muck about, and when the first production models landed in 2000, they were reported to be 98% faithful to the concept. 

At the heart of its mid-engine architecture and sitting where you would find the rear seats of a normal front-wheel drive Clio, was the same naturally aspirated 3.0-litre V6 engine that was derived from that used in the Renault Laguna. For its application in the Clio, the V6 was modified with the likes of new pistons, an increased compression ratio, enlarged inlet ports and a higher rev limit of 7,100rpm. Slightly detuned from that of the Trophy competition cars, the V6 developed 230 bhp and maximum torque of 300 Nm at 3,750 rpm. It enabled the Clio V6 to sprint from 0-62mph in only 6.4 seconds and reach a top speed of 147 mph.

The V6’s power was channelled through the PK6 six-speed manual gearbox, which was developed from an existing five-speed unit but equipped with a completely new internal control mechanism. A limited slip differential helped to effectively put the power down and there was no sudden turbocharger rush to catch out the unwary, but the short wheelbase and a lack of traction control ensured that the Clio V6 delivered an incredibly exciting and highly involved drive.

There was certainly no mistaking its performance potential. Although the body shell, bonnet, roof and rear tailgate were all borrowed from the Clio Renault Sport 172, the bumpers as well as the front and rear wings, sill panels and body sides were specific to the Clio V6.

Compared to a normal Clio, the Clio V6 was 171mm wider, 66mm lower, 38mm longer in the wheelbase and its tracks were increased by 110mm at the front and 138mm at the back. In true supercar fashion, it ran a staggered wheel and tyre combination, with 205/50/ZR17 front tyres and 235/45/ZR17 tyres at the rear. The large diameter 17-inch OZ ‘Superturismo’ alloys also allowed the fitment of 330mm vented front disc brakes, matched to AP Racing 4-pot callipers (the first time they had featured on a production road car), with 300 mm items on the back.

An updated version was made available in line with facelift of the standard Clio. The V6 version was upped to 255bhp, the chassis was revised, the wheelbase was increased by 33mm and the track by 23mm. Renault Sport also evolved production, bringing it in-house and building the Phase 2 at its ex-Alpine Dieppe factory. As with the original, each car was hand-built and 1,309 were constructed before production ceased in 2005. A total of 354 RHD examples came to the UK

Unsurprisingly, the rear structure was entirely specific to the V6, but the original front subframe was based on that of the Clio Renault Sport 172 with a strengthening cross-member. The suspension was completely exclusive to the V6, the front being MacPherson-type and the rear utilising a multi-link set-up. Notably, the front anti-roll bar was taken from the Clio Trophy car.

The Clio V6 was and still is, all these years later, an animal. The kind of machine that commands the utmost in respect and also ability, it’s a powerhouse and also a handful, but in the best possible way. Those who have driven or owned one have said that it’s a car you have to fight with, that you have to work at driving fast. But when you get there, when it all comes together and you have learned how to control what is at the best of time, a lively chassis, it’s all worth it. This is a car for the driver, not for showing off in. Though given it looks like Bruce Banner’s company car, what with its muscles, haunches and giant vents, it is more than capable of snapping necks. 

We love the V6 version of the Clio. It’s a car that, had it been made by anyone else, would have lived on the racetrack and nowhere else. But because the French are not ones for sitting on their desires, this car made it to the road. It was the answer to a question nobody asked, it was and still is a recipe that really shouldn’t work, but it did. And oh how glad we are of that. It’s a car that was built for fun – nothing more, nothing less. It is a car to make you smile, it is a car to make your heart race and it is a car that will see your body use up a year’s worth of adrenaline in seconds. And for that, we love it. It could well be the ultimate modern classic.