TROPHY HUNTER
Ever fancied an all-out GT3-esque evolution of the raging V10 Huracan? Us too. And Lamborghini’s obliged
Super Trofeo Omologato – sounds like a prescription cocktail served in Naples’ shadiest bars. It isn’t, but the effects are (I would imagine) remarkably similar: palpitations, inflated ambitions, a thrilling sense of invincibility, climax. But don’t worry, it’s all good, clean fun. And what isn’t will polish out.
In the Nardo pitlane, my early Huracan STO prototype awaits. The lead vehicle is a proper Huracan Trophy Evo racer (see box, right), at the wheel instructor Mario Fasaneo. His laps of the Puglian handling circuit out-number mine 11,678 to 89. Soon, we’ll drive – hard. It’s impossible not to love this job.
The STO’s race seats are shaped for jockeys, and you’re clamped into them via four-point harnesses. Forcing yourself into the high-performance body glove can be embarrassing but, once seated, the driving position is more comfortable than it appears thanks to the 50mm lower seat base now standard across the Huracan range. Visibility is excellent straight ahead, peep-box restricted to the sides and non-existent aft of the shoulders. In the rear-view mirror you see only a close-up of the rollcage – a Lego Technic installation that frames the world behind you.
In the STO, effectively a street version of Lamborghini’s one-make racer and the wildest Huracan yet, you’ve a choice of three drive modes: full-on Trofeo, road-ready STO and Pioggia, Italian for rain. Then there’s ESC on or off. Roger that? Then let’s go.
Firing up the V10 is like swapping Spotify for good old vinyl, big amps and King Kong speakers. Who wants batteries when burning petrol can create such a hypnotic soundtrack, summon enough punch to momentarily tack one’s skull to the headrest and generate more power than two obese 305/30 ZR20 Bridgestone Potenzas can handle in first, second and third gear? Fast? Oh yes. Once this howler monkey of an engine picks up the throttle-controlled banana scent it goes nuts; 0-62mph in a very physical 3.0sec, 193mph on the fear-o-meter.
At first the STO confuses with an odd mix of the familiar and the unusual. At 13:1 versus 16:1 the steering is a fair bit quicker now, and this extra directness also extends to the rear-wheel steering. The STO also gets firmer springs, four fistfuls of adjustable magnetic 2.0 dampers, hollow anti-roll bars as strong as steel rods, a wider track (by 10mm up front; 16mm out back), a bespoke brake-based locking diff and tweaked kinematics all-round.
But none of these modifications would kick your inner PlayStation into gear if it wasn’t for the game-changing ground-effect aerodynamics. The STO has a fixed rear wing which can be adjusted with a toolkit between five angles. In its most extreme position, it helps – together with the new integrated front spoiler/nose – to increase the downforce over the Performante by another 53 per cent (to 480kg) at 175mph.
Turn-in is sensational, as is the streak of superglue front-end grip that follows. Even when treated to an X-rated helping of excessive entry speed the nose still duly flings itself at the apex, tyres bonding with the tarmac at a molecular level. Understeer? Thanks, but no thanks.
It’s a surreal experience early on, but by mid-morning such addictive front-end response is the new normal. On the circuit, this minimum-loss, big-gain set-up supports faster direction changes, radical corner-entry lines and quantifiably faster exits. In STO mode, heroes won’t be penalised for clumsy throttle inputs. In Trofeo with ESC off, however, the rear-drive STO sets you free to make your own mistakes.
To arrive at the STO’s dry weight of 1339kg R&D has cleared out the cabin, fitted door panels and a clamshell bonnet made of carbonfibrereinforced plastic, added a reinforcing rear arch made of titanium and mounted lightweight wheels. The car’s brain has been re-programmed for more aggressive torque vectoring and a locking ratio of up to 40 per cent on the e-diff.
One last session: the goal to try to stick
TURN IN IS SENSATIONAL, AS IS THE STREAK OF SUPERGLUE FRONT END GRIP THAT FOLLOWS
with Mario, at least through the slower esses and in the braking zones. Though it has the massive forward thrust thing covered, the Huracan STO also cuts a fine figure under braking. Assisted by the finest Japanese rubber in a shark’s-teeth compound, the STO’s bigger carbon-ceramic discs reduce the Huracan’s braking distances by half a car length from 60mph to zero. While absolute stopping power is up 25 per cent, dedicated cooling elements ensure the system’s stress resistance – and thus its immunity to fade – is up by 60 per cent.
The next day, waiting for a connecting flight, my body’s still compiling a list of STO-inflicted pains and wounds. Like that fast-growing blister on the right upshift finger, the ooh-ah bruises the so-called seat embossed on my bum and thighs, and the firmly engraved grin. Such collateral damage is only sustained when a car conquers all five (nay, six) senses: by blurring your vision over crests; by tingling your tongue with the acidic whiff of brakes; by stung your ears with a volume-to-11 jam session; by pinioning your body to its bucket seat with unrelenting brutality; and by exposing your mind to challenges, g-forces and, ultimately, a level of satisfaction so rich it wants to be treasured in that secret compartment marked Truly Great Moments in Life. Worth £216k? On a five-star scale, this is a seven-star car.