It took 30 years for Lamborghini to
finally build a production V12 roadster. We take the topless Diablo on a wild
Highland adventure to find out whether it was worth the wait
There are certain events in a man’s life
that he never forgets: the playground spat with a bully; that first kiss; the
birth of a child. Add to that the aural overkill as a Lamborghini Diablo’s V12
explodes into action. Never the most discreet of power plants, Giotto
Bizzarrini’s tour de force is currently doing its best to turn the other
residents of The Killin Hotel into early morning curtain-twitches.
Lamborghini
V12
The sight that greets them is otherworldly,
a monstrous apparition of all that’s expected of a mid-1990s supercar: menacing,
oversized presence; front-hinged scissor doors; a profusion of wings and air
intakes; plus truly mammoth amounts of rubber. As the wedge-shaped gap above
this machine’s rear engine lid indicates, however, this is no ‘ordinary’
Diablo. It’s a VT Roadster – well, more of a targa than a roadster, recalling
the V8 Silhouette and Jalpa, and the first production car in three decades to
fully liberate the 12-cylinder engine’s sonorous voice.
Whipping off the carbon fiber roof panel is
a breeze – it weighs just 7kg. Locating it on top of the engine cover requires
a little more care. Once it’s in place, you undertake that unique Lamborghini
entrance limbo then activate an electro-pneumatic system that employs two
pivots to securely clamp the panel. “It’s such a satisfying design,” says Carlo
McCrindle, whose firm, Top Gear Specialist Cars, is selling this Roadster. “Why
Lamborghini didn’t use it on the Murciélago is a mystery.”
The Diablo has traditionally been perceived
as a particularly brutal piece of kit, but the cabin has an unexpectedly
luxurious feel, with a profusion of the best leathers, thick carpets, air-con
and electric windows; even the precision cut of the glass edges on the side
windows scream class. The steering column and seats are adjustable, with only
the slightly sidesaddle driving position – caused by foot well intrusion and
the subsequent offset pedal box and impinged rear view hinting at supercar
compromise. All very refined, and not at all what you expect.
Cab-forward
stance to thrusting shape; Diablo spears through glorious Highlands; vast
335/35 ZR17 rear tires give mighty traction
A quick blip of the throttle instantly
shatters any illusions of gentility or emasculation – as the exhaust note
thunders with intent around this ancient village. Such is the cacophony, I’m
sure a few troubled souls have been stirred up in Finlarig Castle – the only
one in Scotland with a beheading pit. It’s probably time to leave before we
become personae non grata for our return to the hotel later in the day.
Pulling out on to the high street it’s
immediately clear, at low speeds at least, that the Roadster is a remarkably
civilized beast. The clutch is surprisingly light and obliging, plus the
five-speed dogleg gearbox – a new design for the Diablo, to incorporate the
transfer box for this four-wheel-drive version – shifts easily between cogs
with satisfyingly mechanical resistance. The power-assisted steering is
weighted to match your speed, so it’s easy even when maneuvering – not
something that could be said of the original two-wheel-drive cars.
Unveiled in Monte-Carlo in January 1990 and
named Diablo after a particularly fierce 19th-century fighting bull, the Tipo
132 couldn’t afford to be anything other than spectacular in the extreme. After
all, it had to follow in the trailblazing path of its Countach predecessor.
Work began in early 1986, with the first prototype appearing three years later.
Lamborghini toyed with four-wheel drive at the development stage, but ditched
the crude mechanical system due to reliability issues.
With
roof panel in place, the VT looks uncomfortably cab-forward, but stowing it
redresses this imbalance.
Instead, traditional rear-wheel drive
powered it to the title of Lamborghini’s first series production car to top
200mph. Couple that emotive performance milestone with scintillating styling by
Marcello Gandini – albeit somewhat softened by parent company Chrysler – plus a
name that translated far and wide as ‘devil’, and its arrival caused quite a
stir.
Under that dramatic skin, its space frame
chassis was an evolution of the Countach’s construction, but featuring welded
square tubes that simplified production and were 30% stiffer than the
round-tube frame in torsion. Crumple zones were integrated front and rear, and
the cockpit safety cell was constructed from high-strength steel. In addition,
tougher alloys for the doors and the use of carbon fiber composites for the
central tunnel and body panels – worked together to improve safety.
The engineers at Sant’Agata fettled the
ageing V12 to such an extent that it acquired a new type number, 521. Bore and
stroke were increased to 87x80mm, the compression ratio upped to 10:1 and
capacity to 5707cc, with electronic fuel injection – as introduced on later
Federal-spec Countachs and twin catalytic converters to keep a check on
emissions. Still mounted longitudinally in the middle of the car, the V12’s
aimed-for power hike to 460bhp was blitzed; instead, the stock car hit 492bhp
at 7000rpm, with torque peaking at a thumping 428lb ft at 5200rpm – the latter
a phenomenal 55% boost on the engine’s previous incarnation.
“It’s now perceived as a definitive ’90s
supercar,” says McCrindle as we head west on the A85 towards Crianlarich, “but
the early ones didn’t have a good image.” A lack of power assistance meant the
steering was ponderously heavy at low speeds, plus the redesigned coil-sprung
double wishbone suspension remained somewhat connection between Gandini’s
brilliant duos, thanks to the short nose/long tail combination, but the later
car lacks the original’s handsome angularity. With roof panel in place, the VT
looks uncomfortably cab-forward, but stowing it redresses this imbalance. At
launch, the Diablo was criticized for size and heft, yet by modern supercar
standards it’s average at worst.
The Roadster is claimed to be even stiffer
than the closed version, which explains the complete lack of scuttle shake. The
frame is reinforced in the A-pillars, sills and across the rear of the cockpit,
with an integrated roll-over bar. Many panels and the windscreen – are unique
to the model, including engine cover, upper and lower air intakes, doors and
rear bumper. Is it pretty? Who cares, the Diablo’s excessive silhouette is all
about aggressive purpose. It wasn’t the company’s first attempt at an open-top
V12 – Bertone’s dead-end Miura Roadster and the odd one-off appeared – but
while rivals mined a rich seam in North America, Lamborghini went without.
