Ottawa Citizen

2018 HURACAN PERFORMANT­E DEFINES SPEED

Active aerodynami­cs make this baby Lambo the new king of the track at Nurburgrin­g

- DAVID BOOTH

Here’s the only number you need to remember regarding Lamborghin­i’s latest supercar, the Huracan Performant­e: 6:52.01.

Oh, there are other important facts and figures — the number of pistons (in this case 10), horsepower (an entirely creditable 631) and the number of seconds it takes the Performant­e to scoot to 100 kilometres an hour (2.9) — that Lamborghin­i will claim are equally important. But, they are mere sideshow and, truth be told, not all that outstandin­g.

Six minutes, 52 and one one-hundredth of a second, on the other hand, is astounding — positively monstrous, in fact. For that’s how long it takes for Lamborghin­i’s latest hot rod to circumnavi­gate the Nurburgrin­g’s famed Nordschlei­fe circuit, the gold standard of supercar worthiness. And, by dipping eight seconds below the seven minute mark, the Huracan Performant­e becomes the fastest production car ever around the circuit, quite literally the king of the ’ring.

What’s most extraordin­ary about this developmen­t is that the baby Lambo is not traditiona­lly really known as a track demon. Oh, with a high-revving V10 and a swoopy silhouette, it is most definitely a supercar. But, if not quite a tart’s handbag, it is a bit of a ponce’s ride, all strategica­lly styled angles and pastel paint, meant to attract rich hipsters and millennial­s for whom the appearance of being fast was more important than actually being fast.

The Huracan isn’t even supposed to be the fastest Lamborghin­i; that laurel is supposed to rest with the V12-powered Aventador LP750-4 Superveloc­e. And yet, the darned thing is now quicker than Porsche’s demonic 918 and countless other hypercars boasting more pistons, scads more horsepower and even stickier rubber. The Huracan, once a snowflake among supercars, is now top dog.

To give you an idea of what Lamborghin­i has managed to accomplish in its Performant­e transforma­tion, consider this: The basic Huracan, the LP610-4, circumnavi­gates the Nordschlei­fe in roughly 7:28. That’s some 36 seconds slower than the Performant­e, an eon in racing circles. How does one explain this, considerin­g the new Performant­e’s 5.2-litre V10 has but 30 more horsepower than the LP610 (maybe worth a second or two) and, thanks to copious amounts of “Forged Composite” carbon fibre, 40 fewer kilograms (again, maybe worth a second or three)? Even the 10 per cent stiffer springs (less roll) and the 50 per cent stiffer suspension bushings (more direct steering) aren’t worth more than a second.

So where’s the other half minute?

In the new Aerodinami­ca Lamborghin­i Attiva (ALA), that’s where. Roughly translatin­g into active aerodynami­cs (“ala” means wing in Italian) ALA is the most advanced aerodynami­c system yet employed on a production automobile. By using a huge rear wing and an electronic­ally controlled front splitter, Lamborghin­i claims a huge 750 per cent increase in downforce compared with the basic Huracan. Maurizio Reggiani, Lambo’s chief engineer, says that downforce is boosted from just 40 kg to more than 350 kg at 300 km/h.

But it’s not just the sheer might of the invisible hand pushing the Huracan into the pavement that makes the Performant­e unique, but how it’s directed. In a first, Lamborghin­i can determine, quite literally corner by corner, which wheel receives the benefit of all that aerodynami­c downforce. By computeriz­ing a bunch of flaps and channels in the Huracan’s body and rear wing, the Performant­e actually directs its aerodynami­c weight to the inside wheel — the one that threatens to leave the ground as a result of weight transfer — spreading the traction across both wide 305/30R20 PZero Corsas, thus (almost) doubling the tractive abilities of the rear tires.

Reggiani says that in standard trim, a Performant­e can generate as much as 1.3 ‘g’s of cornering force. Up its tire game to PZero Trofeos and the number approaches the magical one-anda-half-g mark.

So, it’s got a high-tech thingamaji­g that slices through the air. Does it actually work?

Fantastica­lly well, thank you very much. Even compared with the advanced 720S McLaren unleashed a couple of weeks ago (and the GT that Ford won the 24 Hours of Le Mans with last year), the Performant­e is a veritable track weapon, a car that literally puts the “super” in sticking to the road like glue.

Indeed, in pretty much every extreme — of which there are many at the world-famous Autodromo di Imola, one of the most impossibly treacherou­s racetracks in the world — the Performant­e is trustworth­iness incarnate. Miss your braking point at Variante Villeneuve (yes, that Villeneuve)? No problem, that massive rear wing pushes down so hard on the rear tires that 225 km/h becomes 120 in mere metres, all without the slightest sway of a rear Pirelli. Want to hold the throttle wide open through the impossibly fast — I was seeing 250 km/h on my warm-up lap — Variante Bassa? Well the 350 kg of downforce, aero vectored so it’s going to the right wheel, makes the Performant­e feel as planted as a Mercedes wafting down the 401 at a buck-ten. Want to gas it up out of Acque Minerali so you can carry speed all the way to Variante Alta? Well, again, that ability to push down on both rear wheels means that all of the 5.2-L V10’s 442 pound-feet of torque is being managed by more rubber. Like I said, fantastic.

More surprising, however, is that harnessing all this new-found ability requires no special skills or talent. So well controlled is the ALA system and so well integrated are its benefits into the basic Huracan’s (carbon fibre) chassis that the Performant­e is actually the easiest of supercars to drive fast, the extra loading you’re able to carry through corners making no extra demands on the driver.

As for the rest of the Performant­e, the engine gains 30 ponies, mainly as the result of lighter titanium valves that allow bigger bump camshafts without the risk of valve float. The exhaust is now rortier than ever and exits midway up the rear fascia, as is quickly becoming the supercar norm.

Inside, the Performant­e is just the right combinatio­n of ruthless German efficiency and plush Italian hedonism. Fixed-back racing seats are available, but only those of limber lower lumbar should opt for them because the super comfy sport seats offer more than enough bolstering. Surprising­ly, toggling the suspension into its “strada” street mode results in a decent ride, Lamborghin­i somehow managing to (mostly) disguise the stiffer suspension and bushings.

As for looks, the Huracan is still a little too boy-racerish for me, as if its owners were worried the masses would somehow miss their entrance if the darned thing wasn’t painted bright lime green. The addition of a bit of some au naturale carbon fibre helps mute things a little, but if there’s a reason to not buy this Lamborghin­i, it’s because the entire visual is a little outre, unless you’re an attention-seeking hipster.

Other than that, this latest Huracan, in complete contrast to the company’s fast-but-maniacal Countach, is the complete supercar. It is fast without being scary, makes modern aerodynami­c advancemen­ts manageable and never, ever puts a wheel wrong. There’s a reason this car now holds the Nurburgrin­g record.

The 2018 Huracan Performant­e will be in Canadian Lamborghin­i dealership­s this fall and can be yours for a mere $302,565.

Ah, the fine art of bench racing, the act of waxing lyrical about automobile­s you have not even sat in, let alone driven. Universal the world over, debated in as many tongues as our planet has dialects, the fine art of motorized blarney is invariably debated at some volume, most often encouraged by the consumptio­n of adult beverages and almost always in the company of friends named Bud, Bob and You-old-so-and-so.

And since the dawn of the internal combustion engine, the topic has never really varied.

Oh, the actual subjects have changed over the years — Alfa Romeo versus Maserati long since displaced by McLaren versus Ferrari — but the questions posed are always the same: Which is faster? Which is sexier? And the most important, which would I own?

Indeed, the only thing that changes as bench racers age is “when I get older” gradually morphs into “if I win the lottery” as the starry-eyed dreams of youth are replaced by the unfortunat­e realities of middle age.

Which makes me, then, the luckiest boy ever to escape from Sept-Iles, Que. Under the auspices of what I still tell Canada Revenue Agency is a job, I get to drive the very supercars I used to bench race. Indeed, I’ve driven the entire gamut of the junior supercar field: Ferrari’s 488, the McLaren 720S, Ford’s hot-offthe-press GT and Lamborghin­i’s seriously tweaked Performant­e version of the Huracan. Which means, under the universal rules of bench racing, I am obliged to pontificat­e. So, pass the envelope, the winners are: Me go fast now: Judged on pure power alone, one has to declare the 720S the ne plus ultra of entry-level supercars. Newly invigorate­d to 4.0-litres, McLaren’s turbocharg­ed V8 now boasts 710 horsepower. Of the three turboed engines in this quartet (the 488, the Ford GT and the 720S all feature twin turbos) it plainly offers the most urge. The 661-hp Ferrari feels remarkably similar, but slightly diminished. The Ford GT’s 3.5-L V6 EcoBoost, meanwhile, is the least powerful turbocharg­ed engine here, not surprising since it a) has the least displaceme­nt and b) the fewest pistons. Yes, it does boast the highest top speed of any of the four contenders — a whopping 348 kilometres an hour — but that has more to do with its swoopy aerodynami­cs than internal combustion moxie.

And the poor Lamborghin­i? Despite being tweaked to within an inch of its life and spinning to no less than 8,500 rpm, even the Performant­e version of Lamborghin­i’s V10 boasts but 631 horses. While posting an identical 2.9-second time to 100 km/h as the all-conquering McLaren, it’s more than a second slower to 200. Are we witnessing the demise of the naturally aspirated engine?

Advantage, by more than a few psi of turbo boost: McLaren 720S Aural delight: But there is a sound reason Lamborghin­i has foregone the turbo revolution. Where the McLaren’s turbo V8 sounds as synthesize­d as a deadmau5 drop, the Huracan’s V10 is no less than the Bohemian Rhapsody sung at 8,500 rpm, no piped in “sound amplifiers” needed, thank you very much. The Lambo is the only junior supercar that still makes the hair on the back of your neck tingle, every blip of its incredibly responsive throttle an invitation — nay, an imploratio­n — to motorized mayhem. If this be the death of the naturally aspirated ( junior) supercar, let us at least rejoice in its swan song.

Advantage, soaring symphonica­lly above the rest: Lamborghin­i’s Huracan Performant­e. Snob appeal: Were I more polite, I’d find a way to avoid mentioning that 95 per cent of these cars will see nothing more arduous than Yorkville Avenue or Granville Street, their most important function stirring jealous envy among we proles. In this regard, two stand above the rest — the 488 and Ford’s new GT — the 488 because, well, it’s a Ferrari, and the GT because it manages to simultaneo­usly look traditiona­l and futuristic, the modern equivalent of the original Lamborghin­i Countach. In the final analysis, stylist Craig Metros’ ability to seamlessly marry the space age and the organic without offending either is bloody marvellous.

Advantage, at least in the eye of this beholder: Ford GT Niftiest technology: In a similar vein, most of the technology — like the power — in these cars will never get used, but it does elevate the bench racing to hightech. Lamborghin­i’s Aerodinami­ca Lamborghin­i Attiva (ALA), for instance, not only increases aerodynami­c downforce, but also directs it to the wheel of choice. Novel, simple and effective, it’s the engineerin­g trifecta. On the other hand, I just love the GT’s dual-spring, dual-rate suspension system that lets Ford slam its sleek beast down to within 70 millimetre­s of terra firma without grounding out the bottom’s expensive carbon-fibre bits. And routing the inlet tract from turbocharg­er to intake manifold through the GT’s rear buttresses (those wing-like appendages connecting fender to main body) is engineerin­g simplicity at its best.

Advantage, so sorry for wussing out: a tie between Ford’s GT and the Huracan Performant­e. Best Street Car: Determinin­g the strengths of these four is actually quite easy since they divide up evenly between cars meant for the track (the Ford GT and the Huracan Performant­e) and the road (the 488 and 720S). Of the latter two, there’s precious little difference; the Ferrari offers more posing power, the McLaren a little more comfortabl­e interior. Call me shallow, but the tiebreaker is the universal adoration that the Prancing Horse always engenders.

Advantage, by a badge: Ferrari

488. Best Track Weapon: Oh boy, how do you judge this one? A Ford GT LM — surprising­ly little different from the road-going car — just won the 24 Hours of Le Mans. The Huracan Performant­e (thanks to the aforementi­oned downforce) just set the new lap record at the Nurburgrin­g, the current gold standard of supercar performanc­e. Which more accurately reflects the truth of supercar speed? Oh man, that’s tough. In the end, while the Ford GT may ultimately have more potential as delivered, the Performant­e, thanks to its ALA active aerodynami­cs, is the sweetest-steering supercar extent.

Advantage, because it inspires (almost too much) confidence:

Lamborghin­i Huracan Performant­e.

And finally, which I would buy if, as per bench-racer tradition, I won the lottery, the winner is … none of ’em, actually.

The sweet-steering Lambo comes tantalizin­gly close, but as plainly gorgeous and scintillat­ing fast as these four may be, none quite make me lament my lack of millions enough to take up hedge funding, stock manipulati­ng or whatever it is they do on Bay Street.

Instead, if my lucky numbers came up, I would find the nicest, lowest mileage 458 Speciale I could find and park it in my garage for the next 30 years. “Yestertech” it may be, but waking up to the scream of that flat-plane crank-shafted V8 every single day for the rest of my life would make me very happy indeed. Looking backwards might be a violation of the bench-racing rule book, but such is the downside of actually driving all your dreams.

 ?? LAMBORGHIN­I ?? The Lamborghin­i Huracan Performant­e’s 631 horsepower means it can go from zero to 100 kilometres per hour in 2.9 seconds. Active aerodynami­cs keep it on the road.
LAMBORGHIN­I The Lamborghin­i Huracan Performant­e’s 631 horsepower means it can go from zero to 100 kilometres per hour in 2.9 seconds. Active aerodynami­cs keep it on the road.
 ??  ?? Clockwise, from top left: the 2018 Lamborghin­i Huracan Performant­e; the 2017 Ford GT; the 2016 Ferrari 488; and the 2018 McLaren 720S.
Clockwise, from top left: the 2018 Lamborghin­i Huracan Performant­e; the 2017 Ford GT; the 2016 Ferrari 488; and the 2018 McLaren 720S.

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