The off-shoots of the rather one-dimensional Lamborghini Countach of yore are now multi-faceted weapons of attack. EGMONT SIPPEL travelled to the far-off galaxy of Kyalami to do some low flying in the rapier-like Huracán and the reworked Aventador.
In 1961, the Russians launched Yuri Gagarin into outer space. In 1969, the Yanks went one better by landing two men on the moon. Earth had successfully invaded Space.
Would Space retaliate? Would the Empire strike back?
Oh yes, it would. In 1974 it did so by launching a flat-out attack on our senses when an alien ship, overflowing with cosmic testosterone and naked aggression, landed in the middle of Marcello Gandini’s design studio, in Italy.
A man named Ferruccio Lamborghini took possession and blessed his newly acquired intergalactic battleship with an exclamation commonly used by Piedmontese men when they see beautiful women. “Countach” (pronounced “kun-touch”, as in touching somebody) lives at the intersection of disbelief, wonderment, lust and desire, and is not to be translated into English.
Not in good company, in any case.
DESIGN PHILOSOPHY
Driven happened to be in extremely good company, not so long ago, when Toby Venter’s LSM Distributors – purveyors of Porsche and Bentley in South Africa – followed up the local launch of the Italian brand’s striking new SUV, the Urus, by inviting selected press for a day of reacquaintance with some older friends, in the shapes of Lamborghini’s Huracán and Aventador.
Now, in years gone by, Sant’Agata had been interested in only two aspects of the supercar: speed and appearance, which – reducted – meant: real speed and the message of speed.
Not a brand, then – Lamborghini – for the soft curvaceous Rubenesque contours of a Ferrari. Or the big, bulging, bountiful beauty of an Aston, the insect-like dissonance of a Pagani, the amorphous asexuality of a Koenigsegg, the slapdash haphazardness of a McLaren, the Lotus-like kit car countenance of a Hennesey.
The Countach, for instance, looked like it could split the atom in two.
Forty years later, having radicalised the radical, the Aventador seems empowered to split Jupiter in two. Just before chief designer Felippo Perini transferred to Italdesign Giugiaro, he reworked the Aventador, adding – amongst other things – two serpentine fangs to the nose of the updated model, known as Aventador S after a power bump to 544 kW.
It is this Big Chief Sitting Bull that we drove at Kyalami, albeit in Roadster iteration, during a back to back tryst with the Huracán LP580-2 Coupé, the tempo over three laps in each car having been dictated by a pace car.
LAMBORGHINI AVENTADOR
The Aventador sports permanent all-wheel drive.
Ditto for the Huracán LP610-4 (610 horsepower, driven via all four wheels).
But just like the Gallardo Balboni, the LP580-2 does tarmac-shredding only through the rears, which made the Balboni the most engaging Lambo I’ve driven on the road, yet.
How would the LP580-2 and the reworked Aventador fare on the track, though?
Lamborghinis started life as cars that meant to kill you if you stepped out of line. As spiritual successor to the Countach, the Aventador’s visuals still conjure up images of Blade Runner rampaging with the fury of a Bolognesian Bull, but now also with the venom of precision strikes; the styling is so neat and tight and clean that you can’t imagine it as anything but a sharp handler.
This, after all, was one of the briefs during the conceptualisation of the Aventador, to focus on dynamics as well, not only on performance.
A surplus of the latter was available, in any case. Even back in 2011, the LP700-4’s brilliant 6.5-litre V12 hammered out 515 kW and 690 Nm. Grunt and hence acceleration was mind-boggling – 100 km/h: 2.9 seconds; official V max: 350 km/h, clocked top speed: 370 km/h.
Back then, I cracked 300 km/h a couple of times during a two-week stint in the Aventador. That wasn’t a shock. The flash in which the car did it, was.
Zero. Then a 100, 175, 250 and 300 as fast as you can blink.
Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious.
There were disappointments, too. A muted soundtrack. A shockingly brutish single clutch independent rod seven-speed automated manual box. Gearbox electronics that packed up, twice. Heavy understeer in slow corners. The nose porpoised on uneven surfaces and the car was undrivable on really bad roads.
The Aventador was still a brute.
STILL EXTREME AND INTIMIDATING
The spruced-up Aventador S ain’t.
It’s still extreme, of course. Always has been, always will be.
And yes, a relic of the past remains in Graziano’s brutishly clunky but admittedly fast single clutch ‘box; a double clutch just won’t fit into the available chassis space.
Overall though, the extremities bookend a much better steed. The Aventador S is more consistent, agile and fluid, what with reworked electronics, plus magnetorheological dampers for far superior ride control and dynamic steering through all four wheels, delivering shorter radii at slow speeds and more stability through fast sweeps.
Which is not to say that the car is less intimidating to your average Joe.
Aesthetically, it’s dynamite. But you have to marry your mind to the fact that you’re about to pilot this 1.6-tonne stick of dynamite out into the Star Wars zone. You have to find a way of slithering your body into a confined jet-like cockpit. You have to handle a hard, shaky ride and not get unnerved by the V12’s raucous scream piping straight into your innards. You have to get used to super-quick steering, plus gathering and slashing speed in accordance with radically recalibrated metrics.
If you’d dare, you can also shun the Strada (road) driving mode and play with Sport (without traction control) or Corsa (race/track).
So, it’s hugely overwhelming.
Yet, there is a quick fix: jump into the Aventador Lite, better known as the Huracán LP610-4, or, for even more fun, the LP580-2.
LAMBORGHINI HURACÁN
Weighing in at 150 kg less than the Aventador’s 1,575 kilograms and firing from a 5.2-litre V10, the LP580-2 is an Aventador avatar, a released soul reincarnated in a lighter, more agile and more playful body – if you can call 427 kW and 540 Nm playful (the LP610-4 boasts 449 kW/560 Nm).
The zero to 100 km/h run is half a second slower, and top speed is more than 30 km/h down on the Big Bull, but the seven-speed dual-clutch is so much smoother and the long-stroke V10 barks with a clearer, sharper throat.
The cockpit is also less intimidating and the exterior not as intensely focussed on blowing your mind, which all adds up to another bonus: R5.3 million versus R8.7 million.
So, why then the Aventador, if you can buy a Huracán?
Because you’ll never get another bite at a normally-aspirated V12 again, once the current Aventador flies off to retire in the outer reaches of the universe, where it was born. Downsizing, and electrification even, are on the Bull’s menu.
The S, then, is the last of a breed. Savour it.
Report by EGMONT SIPPEL | Images © LAMBORGHINI SOUTH AFRICA