Just above the Arctic Circle in Jokkmokk, Sweden, Polestar recently held an ice drifting event — an opportunity for the media to experience true Scandinavian driving.
I signed on, hoping for an adventure. To see the sun rising low in the dead of winter, a chance of spotting the aurora borealis for the first time, and possibly even a polar plunge and sauna experience to get those Wim Hof endorphins flowing.
I had previously tried ice drifting a few times, with Lamborghini and Maserati — even with Polestar, in Canada, back when the Polestar 2 first debuted. This year’s event featured Polestar’s full lineup of the unimaginatively named 2, 3, and 4. Plus, the invite teased new Arctic Circle variants unveiled a few weeks beforehand at the FAT Ice Race in Zell am See, Austria.
The trip required an eternal travel day. Three flights from Los Angeles to Luleå, and then a couple of hours driving above the 66°30′ N latitude line. There, Polestar hosted us in tiny Jokkmokk, which floods with rally racing fans and automotive engineers all winter long. Forest roads and frozen lakes nearby provide a perfect opportunity to test vehicles in the harshest wintry conditions.
Out Onto the Ice
Temps for our day on the ice actually peaked in the high 20s (Fahrenheit), which seemed fairly temperate. Polestar reps assured us that the ice layer atop the lake we drove out onto measured around 1 m thick (39 inches). For context, the Swedes consider about 25 cm (9.8 inches) of ice safe for cars. And just 80 cm (31.4 inches) is thick enough to lay railroad tracks for trains.
Three circuits greeted us — again named 2, 3, and 4 because the designs purposefully highlighted attributes of the three Polestars. Circuit 2, therefore, featured tighter and more technical turns, including a couple of full-on hairpins. Stepping up to 3 widened the radii but still required focus because of the SUV’s size and additional power. Then, 4 looped around the whole footprint, ideal for hitting higher speeds in the sportier Polestar 4.
I wanted to start in the 2 and work my way up, but with six journalists plus the Swedes on hand, I ended up in a 3 for my first outing. I figured this wouldn’t be a terrible intro, though, since the 3 is my favorite of Polestar’s cars on the road.
I Fought the Tech, and the Tech Won
The Polestar 3 is nice and spacious, with lots of power and rear-biased torque delivery. This is especially notable with the steering dialed into the lightest setting, which provides a perfect segue to how much the software affected performance EVs.
First of all, we constantly needed to switch each car into Sport mode for the traction and stability control. Forgetting to do so resulted in safe turns but boring corners.
Sport mode set, I played with steering weight and discovered that on ice, as on tarmac, I preferred the lighter setting. I usually attribute this to the instantaneous response of all-wheel-drive EVs, when the front motors can cause some torque steer.
Other than the very best electric power steering — on the Lucid Gravity, for example — sometimes going too firm can dull the feedback down. Plus, I figured I should save my arms from too much of a workout while going sideways all day.
Counterintuitive Countersteering
The 3 performed fairly well, though the dual motors clearly prioritized that tail-happy nature by prioritizing the 241-horsepower rear motor over the identical front unit. These cars wore Michelin X-Ice North 4 SUV (part of the extensive X-Ice family) tires with studs, so I never lost control entirely and spun out. But I came pretty close, requiring lots of countersteering to cut off apexes and avoid berms.
Occasionally unpredictable software seemed to decide somewhat randomly when to send power toward the front wheels, though. This left me a little perplexed, unable to find a solid flow.
Admittedly, I spent that first session trying to nail the longest, smoothest drifts rather than going for all-out speed. The 3’s body roll and suspension worked nicely, though, since the frozen ice heaves up and ripples much more than expected during a constant expansion and contraction process.
It had snowed the previous few days, so a little bit of a dusting provided some additional grip. But the more we drove, the more that layer blew off due to the tires scrubbing.
When 2 Is Better Than 3
After maybe eight to 10 laps in the 3, I came back to the central tipi and swapped into a 2. Immediately, the more balanced front-to-rear power distribution felt far more predictable.
Despite less total output, at 421 horsepower and 546 pound-feet of torque, this dual-motor 2 with the Performance Pack let me rip around with more confidence. Less weight probably helped, since the 2 weighs about 1,000 pounds less than the 3. And maybe the Nokian Tyres Hakkapeliitta 10 tires, which I’d never heard of before, helped. They certainly seemed appropriate, since the name harks to a Finnish battle cry.
Only the tightest hairpins gave me fits. I tried for some little Scandinavian flicks, essentially backing the car in and then powering out with all four tires pulling straight. The ESC refused to cooperate while sliding backward, though. And equally as much if I stomped on the accelerator pedal at the full steering angle.
Sport mode still needs to cater to safe driving for the general public, after all, and EVs can’t fully turn off the nannies without the electric motors revving to the moon immediately. So, as I whipped the 2 around, I repeatedly experimented to find which combination of right foot and hand motion would keep the computer happiest. Patience became the name of the game. Slam pedal to the metal, and the programming bogged the car down.
Ready for Rally Racing
Finally, I jumped into a 4 and set out onto the high-speed loop. In full disclosure, the 4 is my least favorite of Polestar’s cars on the road. The stiff suspension and low roof run counter to the benefits of EV packaging. Plus, that rear window — or lack thereof — still seems absolutely silly.
But here on the ice, the 4 immediately stood out as my favorite. More power, more aggressive “throttle” response (if we can call it that), and a lower center of gravity all kept the tires planted better — even as I started seriously ripping around the wider bends of the 4 track. Back on the Michelin X-Ice tires with the scant studs — Swedish law allows a maximum of 2 mm for road-legal tires — I found the perfect combination of slip and grip.
The longer corners at higher speeds also gave me more time to acclimate before correcting for my inevitable mistakes. Soon enough, I started to really put everything together, transitioning from rights to lefts and back again, finding more traction at the track limits where the rear tires could spray more snow.
Cold Weather & Sideways Fun Means Short-Lived Battery Power
I covered the side windows almost entirely in white fluff. Tires screaming off the ice, even as temps and traffic started to render the surface more and more slippery. Then I noticed that I’d dropped from above 80% to below 30% battery. Right, we’re in an EV. I need to keep an eye on the state of charge.
About 25 minutes of pushing as hard as possible seemed to eat up about 50% of the charge. In fairness, considering the cold weather and blasting the tires at as much power as the computer would allow almost all the time, that’s not too terrible. A gas car might do slightly better, though, since electronic fuel injection depends on load while spinning at redline.
I pulled in to swap into a more fully topped-up 4 and asked Polestar’s Head of Driving Dynamics, Joakim Rydholm, to take me for a spin. I get queasy quite quickly in the passenger seat, but even a short primer from a pro always helps. Plus, this guy rally races a fully prepped Mitsubishi Lancer Evo X. We became fast friends once he spotted my Ralliart jacket. But Rydholm also spends around 3.5 months of the year living in Jokkmokk and testing Polestars.
Humbled by a Pro, I Learn the Secrets of Polestar Ice Driving
Similar to an Inuit knowing dozens of words for different types of snow, Rydholm seemed to possess an entirely different concept of traction on ice. He used lines I never anticipated, almost the exact opposite of tarmac racing. He straightened out as much as possible, braked early to set the car rotating, and then hit full throttle by apex, charging sideways directly toward the next apex to whip around and do it again.
Of course, he wanted to go the fast way around each track. Not like me, as he discovered when we swapped out so he could give me some coaching. Rydholm laughed after a few seconds, calling me “drift king” as a semi-compliment but also a semi-critique. After watching the pro’s performance, though, I started to focus more on speed than style points.
Less sliding, more pace. Sure enough, the pointers helped. I also began to notice how the winter driving techniques better unlocked the Polestar’s software programming. I felt the computer processing happily and feeding in power. Instead of trying to restrain me from finding the edge and going over it while flinging around wide arcs. Almost as if the guy who did the programming knew what it liked more than I did.
Night Falls in the Arctic
I spent the rest of the scant daylight, with sundown approaching just after 4 p.m., honing that newfound mentality. I picked up a ton of speed and only spun out to a complete stop once. The mantra at ice drifting that “everybody spins” usually means a full 180, if not a 360. But I never got past 90 degrees, even that one time.
A lack of spins suggests that I might have preferred a bit more leeway from the electronic nannies. But then, right before we wrapped up, I tried to switch back to drift king mode. All of a sudden, I couldn’t get into the rhythm anymore. Guess Rydholm converted me into a real rally racer.
Soon enough, though, I learned just how much rally racing differs from a journalist ice drifting. That was when Polestar pulled out the Arctic Circle editions for a few demo laps.
The Arctic Circle editions wear competition tires., produced by Michelin before a company called Däckproffsen adds street-illegal 4mm (about 3/16-inch) studs.
In the dark, with the accessory lights blinding any reindeer or moose in the treeline, Rydholm and other Polestar reps hit an entirely different level of speed on track 4 than I had on my best laps in a stock 4.
New Arctic Circle Editions Make Polestars Even More Ice-Ready
The 2’s previous Arctic Circle package received a revamp this year, but the new 3 and 4 went further. Studded tires on OZ Racing wheels, roof racks, remote-reservoir Öhlins dampers, and even a hydraulic handbrake on the 4.
All of a sudden, the waves in the ice disappeared. Instead, Rydholm hammered the brakes to set the nose, finished the rotation far earlier, and punched out into a firm squat with far more control. On the ice, more control equates to more speed.
The significantly increased speed perhaps explains why Polestar refused to let journalists take the wheel of these Arctic Circle editions, which need to survive for multiple marketing efforts throughout the year. That bummed me out, since I got to drive the 2’s prototype years ago. It was torturous, especially from the cramped quarters of a Recaro bucket seat — or while being flung around in the backseat.
But also torturous, too, because Polestar has so far declined to release an Arctic Circle variant for sale. The closest has been the 2’s BST edition 230, which I drove in the San Francisco Bay Area, but it lacks the rallying element.
Expect more BST variants of the 3 and 4 to come, but for now, Polestar mostly needs to sell more cars. Producing more hardcore, expensive limited editions probably isn’t the best way to increase volume. Other than to completely addicted fanatics, that is, as this trip to the Arctic Circle rendered me in just a single day of ice drifting.
The Cars Can Go All Day, But I Can’t — Enter the Sauna
I clearly need some conditioning. Even with the steering set to the lightest mode, my arms legitimately tired out by the end of the day. Luckily, the Swedes cut a hole in the ice and dragged a sauna on skis out onto the lake.
In the polar darkness, lit by a bonfire, we proceeded to ritually heat up in the sweatroom, and then plunge into the frigid water. Halfway between fear and fury, I struggled to breathe, willing away the onset of shock by silently counting to 60.
Still, I barely made it back up the ladder and into the sauna again. Then I realized that I never felt the underside of the ice! Time to go for round two. This time, I breathed much more easily, adapting to the hypothermia more calmly. Or maybe I just lacked the finer sensations that prickled at my nerves the time before.
Sweltering back in the sauna again, I considered a third plunge. Then, the Northern Lights started to appear. I dressed up in my full winter gear and stepped outside to watch the slowly undulating ionosphere.
Did we summon ancient Norse gods with our ice drifting? Or with the ritualistic polar plunges? Brain clearly melting from the temperature torture, plus the full day of drifting while learning so much about the science and engineering of Polestar electric vehicles, I struggled to ignore the inkling that up near the top of the globe, some of the old magic comes into play, too.
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