Honda NSX

Honda NSX 1990s Japanese supercar

For a car maker seeking feedback in the late Eighties, Ayrton Senna was probably first on your wish list! In ’89 – with the NSX in the pipeline – that was the enviable position in which Honda found itself. As luck would have it, Senna was in Japan, at the time. Honda wondered whether he would like to take the NSX prototype for a spin? What could the world’s finest F1 driver do, but accept! On returning the NSX to its technicians, Senna declared it impressive – but delicate. That could be remedied. In short order, Honda had made the car half as strong again.

A new NSX bagged you £5 change from £60K – which you, of course, used to tip Ayrton Senna! As supercars go, sixty grand was cheap. Assuming you considered the NSX a supercar, of course. Not everyone did – among them, some with pronounced European tastes. But – if you could stand a few withering looks from more ‘discerning’ drivers – the NSX gave you plenty of sports car bang for your bucks. Or indeed, yen. For a start, a top speed of 168mph was not to be sniffed at. It came courtesy of Honda’s VTEC V6. Said engine was fixed to the first all-aluminium chassis and suspension set-up installed in a production car. The result was fast acceleration – plus, firm but finely-tuned handling. Especially when Honda’s Servotronic steering system was added to the mix.

The design of the NSX was inspired by the F16 fighter plane. Good aerodynamics, then, were a gimme! With so much going for it, it is no surprise Honda held a special place in its heart for the NSX. Only their best engineers were allowed anywhere near it. Okay – so Honda did not have quite the cachet of supercars’ past masters. That said, the NSX still had plenty to offer less picky connoisseurs … particularly ones who liked a bargain!

Lamborghini Diablo

The Lamborghini Diablo had to top the Countach – its wedge-shaped predecessor. To do so, it would need to be pretty special. Hence the fact that Marcello Gandini was given the design brief. He fulfilled it to perfection. All the way from the inlaid headlights, to the four-barrelled exhausts. The Diablo roared classic Italian supercar from the moment Gandini picked up his pen. It was Lamborghini’s mid-engined riposte to the Ferrari F40 – and the Diablo had all the allure of that Italian masterpiece. Materials used were state of the art. The Diablo was fitted with a strengthened carbon-fibre chassis. That was clad in aluminium and composite-plastic body panels. Lamborghini spent a cool £50m on development. Diablo is Spanish for ‘Devil’ – and there was a heck of a lot of detail to be paid for!

But, there was even more to the Diablo than stunning styling. For a roadster, its performance was off the graph. A 5.7-litre V12 maxed out at 492bhp. Top speed was a gargantuan 202mph. Indeed, the Diablo was the first production Lamborghini to attain that mythical figure. Torque measured a colossal 428lb-ft. From the Countach, Lamborghini had taken what was already an incredible engine – and improved it. Bigger – and tidier of design – it now came catalysed and fuel-injected. The Diablo hit 100mph in second gear alone.

They say the devil has all the best tunes. Their were to be several variations on the Diablo theme. SV, SV-R, Roadster and VT versions duly appeared. There were both 2- and 4-wheel drive models to choose from. The biggest beast of all was the limited-edition Diablo SE30. It topped out at 210mph. 0-60 came up in 4.2s. But – for all the Diablo’s power – comfort was not compromised. Ergonomics were expertly-crafted. Adjustable suspension was but an arm’s length away. Interior trim was impeccable. The sole flaw – if it can be considered so in a supercar – was a lack of luggage-room. But, when the choice was between storage space – and a more voluptuous V12 – most buyers did not hesitate. End of the day, the Diablo was not built to lug stuff about. Lamborghini were testing the limits of design and science!

Bugatti EB110

The ‘EB’ in Bugatti EB 110 stood for Ettore Bugatti – the firm’s founder. On the 110th anniversary of his birth, the new supercar was unveiled. Fittingly, the launch took place in Paris – since Bugatti was a French firm. When it went on sale – in ’91 – the EB110 had a price tag of £285,000. But, if the standard EB 110 was not to your taste, you could always stump up another £50,000 – and drive off in the Supersport version. The latter’s 611bhp output delivered 221mph! The stock EB 110’s top speed was 212mph. If you had the money – do the math!

Superstar designer Marcello Gandini was recruited to style the EB 110. His mock-up, though, was deemed too radical by Bugatti’s top brass. The brief was passed to Italian architect Giampaolo Benedini. Clearly, he was able to style cars, as well as buildings! The aluminium body he drafted was breathtaking. Even the car’s engine was a work of art. Its V12 layout took in 4 turbochargers and 60 valves. There was a 6-speed gearbox – and 4-wheel drive. Handling was precise – to put it mildly!

In ’87, entrepreneur Romano Artioli had stepped in to rescue the struggling Bugatti brand-name. He built a state of the art supercar factory – in Campogalliano, Modena, Italy. Benedini – the EB 110’s designer – had previously architected the factory in which it was built! The EB 110 thus became a sort of French/Italian hybrid – the only Bugatti model to have done so. To head up the engineering team, Artioli had hired acclaimed technical director Paulo Stanzani. The EB 110’s four-year run stretched to ’95 – when Bugatti was wound up. 139 EB 110s were built. Among their owners was a certain Michael Schumacher. The ultimate seal of automotive approval? Off hand, I cannot think of a better one!

Ferrari F50

How to top the Ferrari F40? Well, with the Ferrari F50, of course! While the former was focused solely on speed, the new car offered more by way of creature comfort. Even so, the F50 was far from luxurious – given that it was a supercar, retailing at £330,000. There were leather seats, though, for starters – of course, cast from carbon-fibre. And, the front suspension spring/damper set-up was transverse – allowing extra leg-room. The F50’s ride was smooth, considering its performance stats. They were upped by a ‘firm’ computerised damping system. A V12 engine – and 6-speed gearbox – gave up tractable power. Precise steering was provided by titanium uprights, magnesium wheels and all-metal ball joints.

So, with a top speed of 202mph – and lightning-quick reflexes – the F50 was, effectively, a road/race hybrid. Its 5-litre motor made 521bhp. The 5-valves-per-cylinder V12 had its roots in F1 – in 1990’s Ferrari 641/2. Saying that, peak revs for the road car were 8,500rpm. Rather less than the 14,000 for the GP car! Still – with chain-drive spinning its quad overhead camshafts – the sound from the roadster was still pretty ear-splitting! By contrast, the F1 car’s engine used gears.

The Ferrari F50, then, was technically awesome. Naturally, it needed styling to match. Up to the plate stepped Pininfarina. The esteemed Italian design house unveiled a feast of tastefully-placed lines. Ducting was particularly delicious. Cowled projector headlights lit up the front-end. Inside, the LCD instrument panel was straight out of F1. A ‘black box’ flight recorder was also included! Track days inevitably beckoned – brakes and suspension both being race-derived. 349 Ferrari F50s were built. All they needed was a road with enough scope!

Jaguar XJ 220

The Jaguar XJ 220’s parts-list seemed more suited to aerospace than automobiles. The body was made from bonded-aluminium honeycomb. Its aerodynamics came straight out of Group C racing. The result was cerebellum-splitting acceleration. ‘220’ stood for its mph top speed. Jim Randle – Jaguar’s chief engineer – conceived the car. Thereafter, he coaxed a few colleagues into spending Saturdays on the XJ project. To begin with, at any rate, we are talking spare-time supercar!

The XJ’s race credentials were clear to see. Keith Helfet’s svelte bodywork was just for starters. A 5-speed transaxle ran through an AP clutch. Alloy wheels were centre-locking – for speedy wheel changes. Hefty brakes had 4-piston calipers. Suspension was wishbone/inboard. Output was 500bhp. In theory, at least, though, the XJ was a roadster. Jaguar teamed up with TWR – to found JaguarSport. A production facility was built – in Bloxham, Oxfordshire. In total, 350 XJs rolled out of it. Each with a price tag of £403,000.

When the prototype appeared – at the ’88 Birmingham Motor Show – it had triggered a tidal wave of excitement. Jaguar were besieged by orders. But when the supercar bubble burst, panic had set in. Suddenly, lawyers were overloaded with cases – as over-eager buyers tried to wriggle off the car’s high-priced hook. The Jaguar XJ 220 story – which began in Whitley, West Midlands – morphed into something more suited to Hollywood! What started as a sideline – to keep boffins’ brains busy – turned into a study in Eighties excess.

TVR Cerbera Speed 12

The TVR Cerbera Speed 12 further developed the Project 7/12 prototype. The latter was named for its 7.0-litre V12 engine. The 7/12 had wowed the crowd at the ’96 British Motor Show. It did the same at racetracks. Hardly surprising really – since 0-60mph arrived in around 3s. In the debit column, the 7/12 was far from forgiving, handling-wise. That was all to the good, so far as motor racing fans were concerned. The combination of the 7/12’s prodigious output – and hairy handling – made for some splendid spectating. In effect, the 48-valve V12 was two 6-cylinder motors combined. A 6-speed ‘box did what it could to transition power smoothly to the rear wheels. All of that was wrapped up in a TVR Tuscan modified chassis. So far as race-goers were concerned – with 800bhp flowing through what was essentially a souped-up sports car – the 7/12 was the gift that kept on giving!

But, there was more to come from the Project 7/12. In 2000, a new version was unveiled. Rebranded as the Speed 12, it was everything its predecessor had been – and more! TVR had used the McLaren F1 supercar as a benchmark. Which pretty much said it all. Flat-out, the F1 did 231mph. The Cerbera Speed 12 was about to top that. It was reputedly good for 240mph. That was in no small part down to the Speed 12’s weight – or lack thereof. TVR engineers had pared it down to just 1,000kg. Not only was the Speed 12’s bodywork breathtaking to behold – it was hyper-light, too. Optimal aerodynamics, then, were a gimme.

Sadly, just three Speed 12s were built. Without doubt, TVR – based in Blackpool, England – had built awesome performance into the car. But on the open road, that could be a double-edged sword. In the hands of the unwary, such poke might prove fatal. ‘TVR’ had been founded by TreVoR Wilkinson. Now, though, a new man was at the helm. CEO Peter Wheeler was a seasoned and skilled racer of the company’s products. If anyone knew the capabilities – and potential perils of the car – it was him. Wheeler felt that the Speed 12 was simply too powerful to take to the roads. It was rumoured that the car might compete at Le Mans – which rather reinforced his point! After all, the TVR Cerbera Speed 12 served up some 960bhp. As for the roadster, a price tag of £188,000 had been mooted. Some prospective buyers might well have seen that as a steal!

Dodge Viper

Chrysler recruited Carroll Shelby as consultant for their Dodge Viper project. Previously, he had been linchpin of the AC Cobra. Shelby lavished what he had learned from the Cobra onto the Viper – in terms both of its venom-spitting power and serpentine lines. On its début – at the ’89 Detroit Motor Show – the Viper mesmerised all who saw it. Such was the frenzy that the concept car created, that Chrysler hastily hatched plans to put it into production. Fast-forward two and a half years – and the Viper was sliding onto the highway. Its 8-litre V10 gave 400bhp. Top speed was 180mph. Its wheels featured wide 13″ rims – helping transfer torque to tarmac. And torque there most certainly was – a churning 450 lb ft of it.

Indeed, the Viper’s motor began life in a truck. That was before Lamborghini got hold of it, though. They re-cast the iron block to aluminium. And topped that off with a bright-red cylinder-head. Even so, it was far from a cutting edge engine – comprising just two valves per cylinder, plus hydraulic lifters and pushrods. Which is when Carroll Shelby came in. Basic though the set-up was, he coaxed big numbers out of it. Thankfully, the transmission, at least, was state-of-the-art. A 6-speed gearbox was still a rarity, in the early ’90s.

Styling-wise, the Viper hit the spot. Its sinuous bodywork was seriously aerodynamic. ‘Enthusiastic’ drivers loved it. Seals of approval do not come much bigger than selection as pace car for the Indy 500. Stateside, the sports car sector had been in the doldrums. The Viper reinvigorated it. As for Carroll Shelby – the Cobra was always going to be a tough act to top. Tribute to him, then, that the Dodge Viper had ’em dancing in the aisles. Well, in the passenger seats, at least!

Pagani Zonda

As a boy, Horacio Pagani made supercars out of wood and clay. In adulthood, his designs would be fashioned from the most exotic of materials. They included carbon-titanium and carbon-fibre. An early spell at Lamborghini did his career no harm at all. Pagani worked for them as a junior mechanic. While there, he helped develop the Countach Evoluzione – the first car to be built around a carbon-fibre chassis.

In ’88, Pagani set up his own company. But the ties with Lamborghini were still strong. Pagani’s new firm did some development work for them – on composites for the Diablo and Countach Anniversary models. Increasingly, though, Pagani’s thoughts turned to a product of his own. In ’94, he and his team began work on a proprietary supercar. They duly sourced a V12 engine – from Mercedes-Benz. It was not until ’99, however, that the prototype was unveiled – at the Geneva Motor Show. Pagani had intended it be called the Fangio F1 – after one of the finest GP drivers ever to hold a wheel. Sadly, though – by the time it was finished – Fangio had died. Pagani then opted to call it the Zonda – after a wind which blows through the Andes mountains.

The Zonda C12 was suitably cutting edge. Mercedes’ V12 motor was placed behind the cockpit – driving the rear wheels. After being tuned by AMG, it delivered 542bhp. Top speed was 220mph. 0-60 arrived in 3.7s. Key to those speed stats was the carbon-fibre bodywork. Ultra-aerodynamic lines likewise played a part. C12s retailed at $320,000. Pagani turned out just ten or so a year. There have been several additions to the Zonda range since. Each has refined and improved upon the original. The boyhood toys Pagani made have long since turned to tinder and dust. His more mature creations, however, are still dazzling onlookers the world over!

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