Feature: A Clockwork Orange
February 1, 2007
Even in jaded Los Angeles, a Lamborghini sighting is exciting. Longshoremen
stumble in midsaunter. Road workers flip around their slow/stop sign to bring
you to a halt. Big-rig drivers blast their horns. And plumbers in their work
trucks playfully rev their diesels at red lights.
The brash Murciélago LP640
literally stops traffic, utterly unlike the general indifference reserved for a
Ferrari. The roots of this scene-stealing presence date to 1963, when tractor
maker Ferruccio Lamborghini presumed to challenge racing icon Enzo Ferrari.
Nearly 50 years later, what constitutes the magnum opus of Italian design
remains subjective. But for the hoi polloi there is no debate: They greet the
divinely imperfect Murciélago, painted the glistening orange of a thousand
shattered suns, with appreciative whole-body convulsions. In a sense, owning a
Lamborghini Murciélago LP640 comes with a certain civic duty. That means
answering lots of questions, responding to endless thumbs-up, and—yes—blasting
away from countless stoplights. You must not disappoint your public.
The
Murciélago drives angrily. Mash the throttle and the Lambo’s 640 horses rear up
furiously, directly behind your head. The exhaust does not shriek of shredding
newspaper like a Ferrari; instead, the 6.5-liter V-12 growls with a throaty
bwooargh. Then there are the 15-inch ceramic brakes and ferocious decelerative
g-forces. Yet threshold braking is entirely composed, even while traversing the
rippling pavement of a desert racetrack on a blisteringly hot day.
The car
may feature a balky, Stone Age manual transmission, but Audi’s stewardship of
the Italian brand has meant an infusion of German precision at Sant’Agata
Bolognese. Anyone who has enjoyed Audi’s brilliant DSG twin-clutch automatic
transmission in the German automaker’s products will relish its application
here. Called e-Gear in the Lamborghini, the paddle shifters mounted behind the
steering wheel respond instantly with precise gear changes, even at breakneck
speeds. Downshifts thrill with a hearty bark from the exhaust. Forget that
purists demand a stick shift: The e-Gear is a superior product.
The
Murciélago’s thundering Pirelli P Zero tires grip tenaciously. The suspension is
predictable, the steering linear and logical. The learning curve is quick and
easy,especially for a skilled driver. Driving the Murciélago at a more sedate pace
proves a surprisingly pleasant experience: You can see out the back and sides of
this exotic; the air-conditioning blows as cold as Chicago lake-effect snow; the
engine burbles through rush hour without a hint of overheating. Cruising at 90
mph in top gear means a mere 3,200 rpm from the V-12, which sizzles like
wildfire at any speed.
Driving a LP640 at the limit requires common sense. Doors scissored skyward, middle photo, the Lamborghini revels in its Countach heritage. (Click images to enlarge); function voidFunc() { } voidFunc();)
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For all of Lamborghini’s we-don’t-race protestations,
the Murciélago belongs on the racetrack. For three glorious hours at the
California Speedway in Fontana, Lamborghini allowed a handful of journalists to
thrash a squadra of Murciélagos. This car relishes being pushed at ten-tenths,
back end slithering under acceleration, tires howling under cornering, and
suspension compliantly compressing under hard braking. The punishing treatment
retired several test models from the racetrack fleet. But, for the most part,
the Murciélagos gave as good as they got.
That includes bouncing back from
ham-fisted driving maneuvers. And, despite scads of electronic nannies, the
Murciélago can get squirrelly. More than a couple Murciélago owners and
journalists have seen the detritus of their $379,000 (including options) prize
hauled away on a flatbed when their driving exceeded the laws of logic and
physics. When might this happen? The Murciélago’s massive A-pillar obscures much
of one’s vision on a tight left-hand sweeper. When driving a mountain road at
high velocity, aiming left often results in a “clear or deer” split-second
decision-making process. Lift the throttle midcorner, and you know the rest.
For all the German engineering that moved south of the Bavarian Alps, la
màcchina has retained a certain, innate “Italianness.” The parking brake on the
test model provided by Lamborghini Orange County required Merlin’s incantations
to release. When the engine was cold, fuel starvation caused the vehicle to
lurch embarrassingly or, worse, stall. And while there was adequate headroom for
a six-footer, the compact footwell required the contortions of the damned.
Ah, Italy! Horn buttons mounted where the pads of your hands rest means that
you ironically honk at yourself if you white-knuckle the wheel; seat belts pull
from the center tunnel and latch at the pillar; and the indecipherable Kenwood
audio system, its buttons the size of orzo, can hardly be coaxed into service.
Also, reconsider acquiring this car if the approach to your residence is
anything but paved and flat. Even with a suspension that hoists the car upward
at low speed, the front spoiler still scrapes hideously across inclined
pavement, drawing the kind of attention you would prefer not to have. Because
turning heads—for the right reasons—is what a Murciélago is all about. This is
not a car for the timid but for all-night partyers; this is a car for Richard
Branson and the Pussycat Dolls.
Lamborghini, www.lamborghini.com
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