1970s Supercars Archives - CARS // MOTORBIKES

Maserati Bora

The Bora was Maserati’s response to the Lamborghini Miura. It matched the latter’s mid-engined layout. Ferrari’s Berlinetta Boxer also joined the mid-engined party. But, it arrived late. The Bora beat the Boxer to it by a couple of years. The Bora was launched in ’71 – and the Boxer in ’73. The name of the game for the mid-engined cars was handling. In Maserati’s case, the Bora was an improvement on the Ghibli’s front-mounted motor. Now they had a car which could ‘handle’ however much horsepower was thrown at it. And the Bora produced plenty of it. Its 4.7-litre Maserati V8 was a motor of a certain age, by that point. Indeed, it now had twelve years on the clock. But – with 310bhp on tap – drivers were not much fussed about its timeline. The Bora was good for 175mph. That left many a motor half its age trailing in its wake!

The Bora was styled by Giorgetto Giugiaro. Previously employed by Ghia, he was now in his own studio. It went by the name of Italdesign. The full creative force of the firm was brought to bear on the Bora. Elegantly space-age, the car radiated Seventies chic. In other words – finesse and excess, in equal measure.

In engineering terms, too, the Bora exuded class. Even with its V8 heart beating for all it was worth, cockpit noise levels were almost eerily low. That had a lot to do with Citroën – who now controlled Maserati. They brought a host of hydraulic parts to the Bora table. Its brakes, pedals, seats and steering-column were precision-fitted by the French firm. The Bora was Maserati’s flagship model – so, equipment levels were high. In the whole of its nine-year run, the sole modification Maserati made was a slight engine enlargement, in ’76. Throughout that time – in true Italian style – the Bora delivered a bravura blend of power and panache!

Porsche 928

The Porsche 928 was the first front-engined car the firm produced. Up to that point, Porsche motors had been rear-mounted. The exception to that rule was the 924 – though that was almost as much Audi as Porsche. In the Seventies, the 928 was sold as a supercar. Indeed, Porsche were banking on it being the new 911. That was not to be. 911 fans stuck stoicly to what they loved. Porsche took the hint. They started targeting the 928 solely at the GT market.

The landmark front-mounted motor was a 4.5-litre V8. Built in Germany, it was smooth, tractable and beautifully-engineered. But – in some drivers\’ eyes – it had a flaw. It was not a 911! In its first iteration, the 928 pulled a top speed of 143mph. That climbed to 171, in the course of its run. Certainly, not to be sniffed at. But, also not enough to keep up with a 911. Not in a specification race, at any rate! The 928’s gearbox was a 4-speed, rear-mounted manual – or, a 5-speed Mercedes automatic. Output was 240bhp. The 928S upped it to 300.

Styling-wise, the 928 was on solid ground. Its profile, in particular, was pure coupé. The interior, too, was more than impressive. Its most striking feature was the fascia – which visually echoed the steering-wheel. It was a cosseting cabin, in every respect. On top of that, the 928’s ride and handling were never less than reassuring. Over time, there would be S4, GT and GTS versions of the car. Each of them ushered in incremental improvements. The 928, then, was a significant addition to the Porsche roster. Even if, for some, it would never be in the same league as the 911. Saying that, nor would any other car!

Lamborghini Countach

The Lamborghini Countach was styled by Bertone – Italian masters of automotive design. In its first incarnation, the Countach flew to a top speed of 186mph. That was exceptionally quick in the Seventies. Its engine – a classic Lamborghini V12 – produced 375bhp. Again – in the 1970s – that was a gargantuan stat. The models that followed output still more power.

Handling-wise, too, the Countach was well up to snuff. Mid-engined as it was, its gearbox was at the front – nestled snugly beneath the banana seats. Weight distribution was optimised. As a consequence, the Countach’s cornering capabilities soared. A 5-speed set-up only added to the fun!

Countach is a Piedmontese exclamation/expletive. In its mildest form, it means ‘wow’ – though it can have fruitier connotations! Certainly, the first definition was more than apt. Later versions of the Countach, though, somewhat over-egged the stylistic pudding. Pointless spoilers – and over-sized wheel-arches and ducts – bordered on the kitsch. To be fair, by the time such models hit the showrooms, the firm’s founders were no longer at the helm. Financially, it found itself in choppy waters. Latter-day faux pas notwithstanding, it was largely down to the Countach that Lamborghini stayed afloat. When it made its début – in ’74 – the Countach stunned show-goers. Lamborghini’s rivals were left reeling. In a way – over the course of its run – the Countach summed up the Seventies. Insomuch as it was a decade which could veer wildly between masterpiece and parody!

Pontiac Firebird

The Pontiac Firebird flew onto the American car scene in February, ’67. Released at the same time as GM’s Chevrolet Camaro, they were two peas from the same pony car pod. The most iconic early ‘Bird was ’69’s Trans Am. The ‘Trans-American’ was a road race – organised by The Sports Car Club of America. The Pontiac Trans Am was a star turn. Complete with rear spoiler, beefed-up chassis and Ram Air power delivery, it was a muscle car par excellence. Blue and white livery set it off to a tee. Its split-grille nose became the stuff of legend. Indeed, the Firebird would be a flagship for the Pontiac brand for years to come.

The Firebird entered its second phase in 1970. Restyled for the new decade, it was in the Seventies that the car came into its own. In ’78 alone, Pontiac sold more than 93,000 Trans Ams. Customers could choose one of three models – standard, luxury Esprit or Formula. For sure, the Firebird was spreading its wings. In fact, it was lucky to have fledged at all. GM considered pulling the plug on the Firebird in ’72. They were not convinced that performance cars were the way to go. Thankfully, the Firebird was given the benefit of the doubt. As things turned out, GM would be well-rewarded for their faith in the Firebird.

A third generation of Firebirds arrived in the Eighties. Its charismatic, but time-worn nose had had plastic surgery. It was now more finely-chiselled – and sported cowled headlamps. ’87’s GTA version featured a 350 cu in V8 engine. Top-of-the-range as it was, the GTA was good for 125mph. It hit 60 in just 5.4s. Design-wise, though, the Firebird was starting to look its age – especially parked next to hot foreign competition. As a result, sales suffered. So, Nineties Firebirds were given a stylistic facelift. No ravages of time, though, could detract from the glamour of the early years. One of the all-time great American automobiles, the Pontiac Firebird blazed a phoenix-like trail. Whatever automotive fashion dished out, it somehow always rose from the ashes!

Maserati Khamsin

The Maserati Khamsin was the latest in a line of things automotive to reference the weather. Le Mans has a straight named after the Mistral – a cold wind, blowing through southern France. In similar vein, Ford’s Zephyr namechecked the classical breeze, which has meandered through many a piece of poetry over the years. Another car, too, played upon the ethereal theme. The Khamsin was a scorching gust of air, which seared through Egypt each summer. Maserati brought in Marcello Gandini – of design house Bertone – to draft the Khamsin’s super-sharp shape. Its fluid bodywork lines were fabricated from steel. Spanning the back was a glass panel – inside which, tail-lights sat in suspended animation.

The Khamsin was a technological tour de force. Its four-cam V8 engine abutted the bulkhead. Front-engined though it was – with a full tank of gas, weight distribution was 50/50. The motor was an all-alloy marvel. Its 320bhp gave a top speed of 153mph. Torque output was 354lb/ft – at 4,000rpm. The V8’s powerband surged from 800-5,500rpm.

When the Khamsin entered production – in ’74 – Citroën were still a part of Maserati. A year later – and they were gone. The Khamsin, though, felt the full hydraulic force of the French giant. The steering, brakes and clutch – plus, pop-up headlights and driver’s seat adjustment – were all Citroën-controlled. Rear suspension was double-wishbone. Only the Khamsin’s dashboard let the design side down a tad. Its haphazard array of dials and switches clashed with the simple elegance of the exterior. Unveiled at the ’72 Paris Show, the new Maserati was as stylish as you like. Yet, it was also practical. The huge torque reserves of its V8 powerplant further boosted its already abundant carrying capabilities. And, on top of all of that – as its name suggested – the Maserati Khamsin went like the wind!