Supercars Archives - CARS // MOTORBIKES

Honda NSX

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!

TVR Sagaris

If you bought a TVR Sagaris new, you got a fiver change from £50K. It did not, though, come with any airs and graces attached. Built in Blackpool – on England’s NW coast – the Sagaris delivered no-frills performance – and plenty of it. No-frills, yes – but not no-thrills. A top speed of 175mph made sure of that.

A swift glance at the Sagaris spoke volumes. The transparent rear wing could not have been clearer … in terms of the car’s intent, that is. If you were still in doubt, an array of bonnet vents gave the game away. Does a road car really need to breathe so deeply, some might ask? Nikolai Smolenski – TVR’s new owner – obviously thought so. He was a young Russian oligarch – and not one for leaving things to chance. In the past, TVR had caught flak over build quality. To be fair, as a small manufacturer of exotic machinery, it was always a risk. Smolenski, then, opted to up the ante, reliability-wise. How much he succeeded is a moot point. Anyway, a sturdy roll-cage was duly installed – which took care of over-zealous pedal-prodders, at least!

Certainly, the Sagaris’ straight-six engine called for care. The all-aluminium unit was deceptively pretty. On top of a 406bhp output, it turned over 349lb/ft of torque. As a result, the Sagaris rocketed from 0-60 in 3.7s. 0-100 took just 8.1s. Figures like that mean precision engineering. With a bit of Northern grit thrown in, of course. After all, sports car development is no bowl of cherries! But, while the TVR Sagaris did not stand on ceremony, it was bespoke – not basic!

Maserati MC12

The Maserati MC12 cost £515K. 50 were sold – twice as many as were needed to let the competition version race in the FIA GT World Championship. For your half a million quid, you got a Ferrari Enzo, into the bargain. Well, sort of! Much of the MC12 was based on the Enzo – as a by-product of the Ferrari Maserati Group partnership. Replication ran to the carbon monocoque, V12 engine, steering wheel and windscreen. The MC12’s 6-litre motor was detuned a tad from that of the Enzo – but still managed to provide a cool 622bhp, at 7,500rpm. Top speed was 205mph. 0-60 took 3.8s.

Remarkably, the MC12 took a mere twelve months to make. Maserati’s engineers were, of course, aided by the Ferrari Enzo factor. Even so, to take a top-grade supercar from drawing board to production line in a year was impressive, to say the least. Design duties fell to Frank Stephenson. He had previously masterminded the Mini Cooper. In terms of the MC12’s aerodynamic package, a quick glance told you all you needed to know. Seriously slippery was understatement!

The MC12’s white and blue paint mirrored Maserati’s ‘Birdcage’ racers. The Tipo 60/61 machines had competed in sports car events in the early Sixties. The racing theme continued inside. Lightweight carbon-fibre was used for the MC12’s cabin – including the fully-harnessed seats. Practical problems arose from the rear window – or lack of it! A quick removal of the targa top, though, soon sorted the shortcoming. Other than that rear visibility ‘glitch’, the MC12 was reasonably user-friendly. Sequential gear-changing was straightforward, steering nimble and the ride smooth. The sole issue, then, for owners, was sourcing spare parts. Best way around it was buying a Ferrari Enzo as back-up. Or, indeed, two MC12s. Maserati recommended the latter option!

B Engineering Edonis

B Engineering began as an offshoot of Bugatti – when the latter went bust, in ’95. A small group of ex-Bugatti staffers banded together to create their own take on a supercar. Not just any old supercar, mind – a one-of-a-kind supercar. Enter the Edonis! Arguably, the best tagline a car could have would be ‘Made in Modena!’ Certainly, the Italian city is now synonymous with automotive excellence. B Engineering never used that slogan. But – while ‘B Engineering’ may not have quite the same cachet as ‘Ferrari’ – it can still hold its own in high-calibre company.

The word ‘edonis’ is Greek for pleasure. As in hedonist. In supercar terms, the hedonism 720bhp brings on. It came courtesy of a twin-turbocharged V12 engine. The Edonis’ top speed was 223mph. No surprise, then, that it broke the lap record at the Nardo racetrack. When it came to the car’s colossal power output, every other component was clearly supremely in sync with it. Edonis project director Nicola Materazzi led a crack team of engineers. Between them, they had worked for all of the top supercar marques. Jut 21 Edonis units were built. The figure referenced the 21st century.

B Engineering’s links with Bugatti stayed strong. Its owner – Jean-Marc Borel – had been Bugatti’s vice chairman. 21 carbon-fibre tubs – originally earmarked for the Bugatti EB110 – were duly used for the Edonis. The latter’s 3.7-litre engine was developed from that of the EB110. It was hooked up to a 6-speed gearbox. The Edonis cost a cool £450,000 – from a manufacturer without a proven pedigree. Those in the know, though, did not baulk at the price. After all, the crème de la crème of the car industry had contributed. For the B Engineering Edonis, quality was a gimme!

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!

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!

Spyker C8 Laviolette

In the past, the Netherlands was associated with tulips and windmills. These days, it is as likely to be supercars – like the Spyker C8 Laviolette. Spyker’s roots stretch back to 1880. In ’89, they built the Golden Carriage. It still transports the Dutch royal family, on state occasions. During World War 1, Spyker made fighter planes – including their engines. The firm also found time to build cars – for both road and track. Well, it did until ’26 – when it went bankrupt.

Thankfully, though, that was not the end of the Spyker story. In ’99, Victor Muller – a Dutch business magnate – bought the Spyker brand-name. He duly set about resurrecting the marque. Supercars would be Spyker’s new stock-in-trade. The Spyker Squadron team was formed. It specialised in endurance racing. Visits to Le Mans, Sebring et alia duly followed. In ’06, Spyker entered F1. It bought the Midland équipe – or Jordan, as it had previously been. Two years on, the team would be sold to Force India.

Spyker’s C8 Laviolette debuted at the 2001 Amsterdam Motor Show. Its aluminium bodywork took visitors’ breath away. Beneath, the space-frame was made from the same lightweight material. The dramatic upsweep of the ‘scissors doors’ was spectacularly state of the art. When open, they revealed quilted-leather seats. The Laviolette’s 4.2-litre V8 produced 400bhp. Suspension was via F1-style Koni inboard shocks. Ventilated disc brakes were suitably solid. The Laviolette’s top speed was 187mph. 0-60 came up in 4.5s. Of course, the price tag was sky-high. £210,000, to be precise. For that kind of wedge, you got to watch your car being built. That came courtesy of a Spyker factory web cam. Among the options was a Chronoswiss Spyker wrist-watch – complete with your car’s chassis number engraved on it. That was a snip – at just £24,000. An add-on set of bespoke luggage cost a mere £12,350. There was even a Louis Vuitton tool-kit available – a bargain at just £2,500. In financial terms, then, the Spyker C8 Laviolette was not for the faint-hearted – or, indeed, cash-strapped. Most of us could not afford the accessories – never mind the car itself!

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!

Nissan GT-R

Launched in ’07, the Nissan GT-R followed on from the Skyline GT-R. The new model was effectively two cars in one. Insomuch as it was equipped with a speed switch – to toggle between performance and cruise modes. Full-on, its 3.8-litre twin-turbocharged V6 put out 479bhp.

Key to the GT-R’s success was its exotic drive-train. It comprised a paddle-shift transmission, twin-clutch transaxle and 4-wheel drive. With all that in place, the GT-R’s power delivery was straightforward to manage. A 6-speed gearbox helped, too. 0-60 took just 3.5s. The GT-R maxed out at 194mph.

Despite such high-performance credentials, the GT-R sported a well-appointed cabin. The deep front seats were a deliberately close fit – to assist quick, but controlled driving. Soft leather upholstery kept things comfortable. If you liked cutting edge sounds – as well as cars – there was a high-tech music centre in situ. It came complete with downloading capabilities, of course. There was even an LCD screen – courtesy of Sony Playstation. As filed under ultimate all-rounder, then, the Nissan GT-R was pretty hard to fault!

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!