There's an urban legend that men think about sex once every 7 seconds. Sitting in the Evo one Friday morning in the worst traffic jam in the history of Cornwall, it suddenly occurs to me that I haven't thought about sex for at least 24 hours - roughly the length of time I've had the car. Not surprising really, as driving the Mitsubishi how it was designed to be driven requires ultimate concentration. Allowing one's mind to wander while hanging the car through 90° corners at unnecessary speeds could well be terminal.

"It's yellow!" I get the call from Shane (the Editor) the moment the gleaming Evo VIII is dropped at The Car Enthusiast office. YES! This is just what I was hoping for - a yellow FQ-300. Maybe not the shade I'd select were I to buy the car myself, but definitely the colour of choice for a brief encounter. We meet on Thursday and there it is skulking in the street, resplendent in 'Dandelion Yellow' and looking just a hint more troublesome than its predecessor.

The car is not actually significantly different from the Evo VII, and hardly merits a whole extra "I" on the bootlid. The front bumper is the only major cosmetic alteration, now far curvier and with an enlarged intercooler opening. It also incorporates the new more prominent Mitsubishi badge, and overall it successfully brings the face of the car up to date. The bonnet is redesigned, one larger vent replacing the two central ones and the asymmetric side vent going entirely. The wheels are now 17 inch Enkeis shod with Yokohama ADVAN AO 46 tyres. The rear spoiler is far more elegant, and now considerably lighter, being fully carbon fibre. The only other change to the rear is the lights, which have been 'Lexus-ised'. Inside, the only major alterations are to the dashboard (which has undergone a makeover) and the addition of new Recaros.

Under the skin, more serious changes are afoot. The engine is now lighter, and has a modified turbo, intercooler and inlet manifold. This results in class-dominating torque. The gearbox, although only marginally heavier than the VII's, is now six speed, with lower first and higher sixth gear ratios for improved off-the-line acceleration and more economical high-speed cruising. The suspension has been revised to slightly lower the centre of gravity. The most noticeable changes however are to the rest of the drivetrain.

The redesigned Active Centre Diff (ACD) distributes power for acceleration and straight-line stability, and uses an electronically controlled multi-layer hydraulic clutch to control the power distribution fore and aft, and maintain a split as close to 50:50 as possible according to the road conditions. As before, the driver has the choice of three settings: tarmac, gravel and snow. Super Active Yaw Control (SAYC) dramatically improves cornering ability over AYC (as fitted to the Evo VII) and is able to channel almost twice as much torque to the outside rear wheel to control cornering by compensating for tyre adhesion and power distribution. This equates to a power differential between the rear wheels of almost 40%. SAYC acts as a Dynamic Stability Control (DSC) system, but redistributing power rather than restricting it increases usable torque by up to six times according to Mitsubishi. ACD and SAYC work harmoniously with each other and are now both controlled by the same computer system, which naturally provides an improvement over the previous discrete control.

As the most important market to Mitsubishi after Japan, we're rather lucky here in the UK - for not only do we get the Evo VIII a whole year ahead of the rest of Europe, but we also get the FQ-300. The standard Evo is imported from Japan, put through Single Vehicle Approval (SVA) by Mitsubishi (it's effectively a grey import), and finally uprated by Mitsubishi Ralliart Europe in Rugby. Until last year, Ralliart was an external division, but following its move in-house to Mitsubishi the modifications are now fully sanctioned, and the Evo's price has also been reduced. Mitsubishi are somewhat secretive about the exact modifications, but they include the addition of several HKS tuning parts - an air filter, an upgraded intercooler and piping, and the most obvious - the HKS Drager exhaust, fitted from the cat back and reminiscent of the channel tunnel emerging below the rear bumper. This allows the turbo to spin up quicker and hold boost for longer. As to whether the ECU is remapped is uncertain, but the above modifications alone should be adequate to increase the power by 24+ bhp over the standard car's quoted 276.

I can't hide the fact that I've been looking forward to this for ages, and the first ride is no disappointment. All too aware of the fact that he's about to relinquish the car to me, Shane wants to make the most of his final couple of hours this side of the long weekend. As soon as we're onto a suitable road, he applies the power in one deft plunge of the accelerator, and we've gone. The last car I was in which felt anything close to this was the Alfa 147 GTA, but the Evo is naturally rather more dramatic due to the fact that it is turbocharged. And of course the four-wheel drive eliminates the fearsome torque steer of the 147. It's clear even before I've driven it that the modifications to the VIII have paid off. Power delivery is far smoother and available over a wider band than the VII's. Turbo lag is imperceptible - there's just a sensation of being scooped up and hurled forwards at a terrifying rate. And the noise is lovely - a burble and howl from that 5 inch exhaust pipe as we whip up through the gears.

But nothing can prepare me for the handling. Hurtling along an A-road we approach a 90° right at a speed that even in my wildest dreams is impossible to survive. At this point I know there's no way we can stick to the tarmac, and I have flashbacks to a story of a yellow Lancia Integrale sliding through a hedge and somersaulting nose over tail through a field before ending up spinning on its roof. But just then the car manages to harness some supernatural force, and like one of the pod racers in Star Wars that instantly change direction, we're going the right way. Instant power out of the corner, no hint of lag whatsoever and we're away. The payoff for this phenomenal handling is overly harsh suspension - I would certainly consider it too firm for everyday driving, but like the colour, for a week it's only too acceptable.

Finally I am presented with the prized ignition key, and I set off for Cornwall. The pedals are incredibly sensitive - almost too much so, but they convey the feeling of a machine tuned with minute precision. It's initially difficult to drive at all smoothly due to the tip-in and out characteristics of the accelerator, but I soon get the knack. Feathering the throttle I ease through the town streets, once pressing too far and almost launching myself through a shop window. Steady... and onto the open road. My goodness. Hardly any effort, and I'm almost into next week in a matter of seconds. It feels fast in the passenger seat, but once you're driving it's surprising just how little effort is required to perform momentous achievements. The engine feels supremely smooth and powerful, more so than I could ever expect from a four-cylinder turbo. The gear change is slick and predictable, and apart from a little bumpiness, the Evo is tremendously confidence inspiring. It's always possible to overtake the car in front, without fail. Somehow you just fit. Later on I find particular joy in launching up slip roads to smoothly join the motorway in the outer lane at exactly 80mph. The speedometer strikes me as particularly optimistic on this car, and 80 feels like a safe 70.

The car is fitted with an aftermarket Kenwood KDC-7024 stereo, which is suitably trick with its flip open front and double flip-open for the CD. Although it's a decent head unit, the sound is only OK - obviously something to upgrade when the owners run out of other options. Contrary to the tradition of Japanese techno-overkill (compared to the Mitsubishi GTO for example) the dashboard is impressively minimalist with little labelling at all. In fact the most blatant labelling is the set of Momo emblazoned floor mats and the steering wheel - maybe to tempt those Integrale defectors with just a hint of Italian flavour.

The new Recaros look great - a blue material surrounded by alcantara. However there's something wrong with the width, at least for me. If I have a particularly wide bottom, I've certainly never noticed it in any other car, even with bucket seats, but I find these seats distinctly narrow. Shoehorning my not-particularly-ample girth into the driver's seat is just about OK, but after having driven for an hour, I find things are getting most uncomfortable as my legs are restricted as far as the knee and don't naturally stretch towards the accelerator and clutch, thus having to go through what becomes a rather uncomfortable contortion to control the car. Apart from this the driving position is great.

Build quality is excellent, my only complaint being the boot lid, which clangs cheaply when it's closed. The lid is actually a somewhat cumbersome affair - the easiest way to open it is to lift it by the spoiler which feels rather inadvisable, and the only way of closing it is with the bottom edge, which tends to attract dirt, and hence causes grimy fingers. In the grand scheme of things however this is a negligible criticism.

Mitsubishi don't even bother to state the fuel consumption figures for the FQ - but the combined figure seems to be generally stated at somewhere around 19-20 mpg. Even though the fuel tank is 55 litres I can safely say that this is the only car I've filled up more than three times in one day. Not good.

The trip to Cornwall is wonderful, and incorporates a midnight rally stage through some deserted lanes. Having been a passenger with Shane, I have an idea of the car's capabilities, and possess the confidence to venture towards the limits of grip. If I get anywhere close, it's never apparent. The car stubbornly refuses to break traction, and holds true to the road in an awesomely confident fashion. The xenon headlights illuminate the road into the far distance as hedges fly by in a glorious blur. Corners become more and more frantic as my confidence grows, braking dramatically into them with those huge Brembos and powering out with that omnipresent reserve of torque.

Every car I've driven like this before eventually begins to feel like a nervous passenger, giving you hints that it's not happy, and finally begging you to slow down before doing something irrational. The Evo is quite the opposite, coaxing you on confidently, like your father holding your bike as you're learning to ride. And similarly, you're never quite sure when you're being helped along by the electronics, or controlling the car yourself. It's beautifully imperceptible. In the Evo VII, I found the electronics obtrusive, simultaneously doing what I was trying to do to correct the car in moments of extreme G. The VIII is something else, and truly a leap forward in the field of four-wheel drive.

By Friday afternoon, we've got nearly all the photos we need, but there's one location just waiting for the Evo, and here we are in the traffic jam on the way there. Just beyond Bodmin there are some private woods with a long gravel track stretching for miles.

After more than two hours, we finally work our way out of the traffic jam. It's now a typical Cornish afternoon, drizzly and very damp. Mind you perfect weather for the turbo. We meet the estate owner and he escorts us out into the forest in his Land Rover. We find the perfect corner for action shots, and carefully set up - a long uphill run to a hairpin right, another short stretch and a hairpin left on a sharp uphill. Perfect. We take a couple of shots, but the angle's just not quite right. We break for a few minutes and go off to find a better location, another hairpin, but this time more open. Just a short run up to the corner, a slide around, and away. Even better. We've almost got that shot when it suddenly becomes difficult to change gear. And then without warning, there's no drive at all. I try all the gears, but even though the clutch pedal works fine, it's as if the clutch plate has vanished. I roll helplessly down the hill and come to rest in front of the camera, poised for that one last shot, now never to happen. I climb out and there's a mixture of shock and guilt across the team - this is the first press car we've had broken down in our possession, supposedly one of the most robust.

Suddenly what was a bristling 30k sportscar has been reduced to a lump of useless yellow metal. We alert Mitsubishi straight away, and then set about towing the car back to a safe place. Luckily we have the trusty Land Rover at our disposal, and soon the car is at its agreed collection point. I'm a little surprised when the phone rings a few minutes later, and it's a very panicked Mitsubishi press office.

They ask where the car is, and I tell them it's at the address we agreed collection from. They're not happy with this answer, and ask me to confirm this. Finally they ask whether I can actually see the car. As I'm sitting in it at that moment, I assure them I can. It appears that the car has objected to being towed, decided it's been stolen, and has got straight onto Mitsubishi to let them know it's on a jaunt across Bodmin moor. All very scary, but nevertheless very reassuring if this happens to be your own car. The Evo was fitted with Trackstar and it certainly works!

And this is the rude end to our week with the car. I make my way back home to London the next day in far less salubrious circumstances, still with a feeling of surprise and disappointment at what's happened. Later on I investigate some online forums, and find that clutch failure appears to be a common occurrence, at least for cars that have been driven at all spiritedly. There are many owners who have replaced clutches well below 5,000 miles. Naturally how long a clutch lasts is largely dependent on how one drives the car, but when one buys a car which is unashamedly called F***ing Quick, one might expect it to live up to its moniker for more than 4800 miles.

The Evo VIII is a phenomenal car - there's no two ways about it. It almost stretches as far as being a reasonable family saloon - it is difficult to amble about in smoothly, the suspension is a little too harsh, and the fuel economy is enough to give you more Air Miles than you know what to do with, but it can comfortably carry five adults and their luggage.

But that's not what this car's about, particularly the FQ-300. What it is about is driving on the limit as much of the time as you possibly (and legally) can - after all it is derived from a rally car, which by definition does just this. The failure of the clutch raises a few questions, but we are prepared to put it down to a very hard life for this Evo in early childhood. Some publications put press cars through gruelling acceleration and performance tests, which soon reduces a powertrain's life.

The engine is a dramatic improvement over the VII - smoother and torquier, with far more progressive power delivery throughout the range. And the extra cog in the gearbox works in the car's favour as well. But the most amazing improvement of all is the handling; it's only possible to imagine just how capable it is after having actually driven the Evo. Virtually unshakeable, it completes the package to offer drivers of all capabilities a thoroughly demanding and involving adrenaline rush. Altogether a superb car.