There are iconic vehicles… after which there’s the Lamborghini Countach.
This wasn’t only a supercar – it was the poster little one of extra, the wedge-shaped fantasy that outlined a era’s thought of velocity, energy, and outrageousness. Overlook subtlety – that is Italian aptitude turned as much as 11.
The Miura could have written the primary chapter within the Lamborghini supercar story – with its lengthy lashes and luscious curves – nevertheless it was the Countach that threw away the playbook, locked the doorways, and set hearth to it.
When it broke cowl on the Geneva motor present in 1973, the world collectively gasped. It appeared alien. Sharp. Harmful. Prefer it had crash-landed in Switzerland from some Martian race planet, carrying Gandini’s visionary design like armour.
This was no automobile. This was a revolution on wheels.
So when the possibility got here to drive the final word expression of that icon – the twenty fifth Anniversary Countach, the final and most refined of the breed – and to do it in Italy of all locations, I didn’t hesitate. I packed my driving sneakers earlier than saying sure.
Lamborghini’s revered Polo Storico division – the custodian of the model’s most treasured metallic – had lined up a number of historic bulls for us to pattern. The Countach, naturally, was the crown jewel.
However I’ll be sincere: there was a flicker of apprehension. Left-hand drive, dog-leg gearbox, no driver aids, and a clutch that laughs within the face of your gymnasium routine. This isn’t a automobile you merely leap into. It’s a machine you commit to.
Doorways up, ego in.
Simply stepping into the Countach is an train in efficiency. With its legendary scissor doorways and mile-wide sills, climbing in is half Cirque du Soleil, half yoga class.
You don’t a lot sit in the Countach as fall into it – knees pointing to the sky, ft shoved deep into the pedal field.
Visibility? Virtually zero. Rearward imaginative and prescient is a joke – therefore the necessity for the basic “sit on the sill and reverse out like a stunt driver” transfer. I used to be mercifully spared the embarrassment, because of some divine intervention (and maybe a fast go to to the Vatican earlier within the journey).
Settle in and also you realise every little thing about this automobile was designed to prioritise presence over practicality. The seating place is flat-out weird. You’re almost mendacity down, attempting to succeed in a steering wheel the dimensions of a small pizza and a clutch pedal that would double as a leg press.
There’s no steering wheel rake or attain adjustment – your physique has to adapt to the automobile, not the opposite approach round. However that’s the worth of entry for Countach greatness.
After which comes the beginning process. For those who assume that is only a twist-and-go affair, assume once more.
This can be a carb-fed Italian brute with six twin-choke Webers – they usually want gasoline. So that you prime it. And I imply correctly. Pump the throttle prefer it owes you cash. I wasn’t aggressive sufficient the primary time and obtained an earful from Pietro, our teacher.
“Pump it! Pump it!” he yelled, flapping his arms like a person attempting to take flight. The group – a mixture of leathered-up bikers and wide-eyed automobile spotters at Passo della Futa – watched on in amusement.
Ultimately, it fires. And when it does… mamma mia.
The V12 explodes to life with a bark that would wake gods. This isn’t a well mannered burble – it’s a mechanical snarl, a metallic roar that cuts via the mountain air like a struggle cry.
The 5.2-litre Quattrovalvole engine is pure old-school theatre – 335kW of energy and 500Nm of torque delivered with no filter, no insulation, and no regard to your eardrums. Even at idle, it sounds prefer it’s on the sting of violence.
Deciding on first gear takes effort. It’s essential to know precisely what you’re doing. The dog-leg gate, protected by a curious little spring-loaded finger of metallic, calls for consideration and muscle reminiscence. However slot it house, give it some revs, and also you’re off.
The steering? Heavy as hell. There’s no energy help, so at low speeds it’s like wrestling an ox. However when you’re shifting, it’s fantastically direct. Sharp. Fluid.
You may really feel each ripple of the highway via that thick leather-based wheel. And because of the fastidious consideration of Polo Storico’s restoration technicians, it tracks straight and true – extra exact than I ever anticipated from a 35-year-old supercar.
And it’s quick. Shockingly quick.
Even in comparison with immediately’s neck-snapping EVs and hybrid hypercars, the Countach nonetheless pins you again and calls for respect. There’s no turbo surge – simply linear, razor-sharp supply that responds immediately to your proper foot.
Maintain it between 3000 and 6000rpm and it sings. Push past that, and it screams.
That soundtrack – half offended chainsaw, half operatic aria – pours from these 4 wonderful exhaust shops on the again. I’m obsessive about them. Not only for the look, however for the sound they conjure. It’s intoxicating.
Each shift is a deliberate act. The throw is lengthy, mechanical, and completely rewarding. You don’t flick via gears. You slam them house.
The clutch is a exercise, however while you nail a downshift with a wonderfully timed heel-and-toe – it’s automotive nirvana. Nothing synthetic. No filters. Simply uncooked mechanical brilliance.
And but, regardless of its fame for being a brute, the Countach surprises. It turns in with poise, holds a line with tenacity, and feels planted even when pushed.
It loves quick, sweeping roads – the type we present in abundance on this Italian take a look at loop. It communicates always, encouraging you to lean on it, to belief it. It rewards dedication.
At one level, a contemporary 911 in entrance was attempting to movie us, however they had been holding us up. I wished to unleash the Bull, and once they lastly moved over, the Countach was relentless. No hesitation. No drama. Simply grip, grunt, and glory.
Driving the Countach isn’t simple, nevertheless it’s truly snug, forgiving even.
However none of that issues, as a result of when you’re in sync with it – when you’ve bonded with this snarling wedge of Italian fury – it turns into addictive. It’s visceral. Unfiltered. Actual.
In a world of synthesised engine notes and computer-managed perfection, the Countach reminds you what it means to drive.
And never simply any drive – a drive that leaves your palms sweaty, your coronary heart racing, and your soul completely hooked.
So what’s it like driving a 1990 Lamborghini Countach?
It’s brutal. It’s sensible. And it’s each childhood dream dropped at life – louder, sooner, and extra wonderful than you ever dared think about.
