Talented pilote though your author may be, even he couldn’t drive two cars at once. So after telling Lambo Guy that yes, perhaps that would be a good idea to drive two Lambos in one day and yes, it looks like there is room on the calender prettymuchanywhereyouwanttheretoberoom, we placed a call on the Supercar Emergency Hot Line telephone kept in a desk drawer in the Autoweek lair high above the LA metropolis to the only guy both talented enough and trustworthy enough to handle an entire day of swapping seats in what would amount to over 1000 metric hp: Autoweek correspondent and all-around good guy Ben Stewart. Stewart himself is not only cool enough behind the wheel to not do anything dumb to these multi-gazllion-dollar exoto-rides, but he himself once owned a Countach  (another story for another time perhaps), so he knows from Lambos.

Yes, said Stewart (we are paraphrasing again), perhaps I, too, have time for such an endeavor.

Stewart, writing ex-post facto: The best supercar experience is a short, intense one on a great road. That way there’s less time to fuss about the little stuff. Who cares if it’s hard to park or returns abysmal the fuel economy? It’s a Lambo! Its only true purpose on this planet is to thrill everyone inside and outside of the car — all the time.

Thus it was that we met in the super-secret Lambo Repository in a nondescript cinderblock building somewhere in LA and took delivery. The Repository is a story in itself, again for another time, but it also had Astons Martin hanging from lifts and one or two other cool cars.

Our contact, “Mike,” showed us around the inner workings of the Huracans — where reverse was, how the windshield wipers worked, where the insurance papers were — and we were off, Ben in the LP 610-4 Spyder and I in the LP 580-2 hardtop coupe.

Stewart: We had a chance recently to spend time with two new Huracans, a double dose of V10 power concentrated into a few brief hours of one delirious day.

LP 610-4 and LP 580-2 Rosenkrantz and Gildenstern, Abbott and Costello, Simon and Garfunkel Photo by Mark Vaughn

I immediately liked my car, maybe because I am not a convertible guy. I like a solid roof above me protecting my pasty white Euro-mutt skin. Yes, you need the vitamin D the sun provides, but you can get that through other sources like prune juice and beets. Plus, I like anonymity … as if you’re going to get any of that in a Lamborghini. Ha!

As you may recall, to make the AWD Huracan into a RWD Huracan, Lamborghini simply removed the front driveshaft, half shafts and differential, which lightened up the front end, allowing engineers to install slightly lighter springs and create what the company calls “… the purest expression of Lamborghini to date.”

The 580-2 had room to stretch out, sort of, and it drove about 200 times better than the old Gallardo. I said as much on earlier drives of earlier Huracans. This is a giant step up for Lamborghini, a company that has lived in the (albeit very fast) shadow of Ferrari its whole corporate life. And while Ferrari used to hold its sales to 5,000 a year no matter what in order to create “desire” for its products, Lamborghini last year hit 3,245 sales and was darned happy to have done so. So buy all you want, they’ll make more.

LP 610-4 interior was a little cramped if you’re over 5’10” or so Photo by Mark Vaughn

Stewart: The drop-top Spyder is the superstar of this duo. This is the one that snapped necks at the stoplights. It only takes 17 seconds to put the top down and go from obscurity to celebrity. That fabric roof completely disappears behind your head, making the big engine scoops on the car’s upper flanks more prominent.  And the noises! Without a roof you can hear every beautiful, angry shriek of that 610 hp V10. When it all becomes too much, you can drive it around town with the top up and enjoy the car with a little more anonymity. It’s a bit cave-like in there with the roof in place. And you’ll notice a big nasty blind spot making it tough to see cars in the right lane. The Spyder’s top mechanism requires considerable real estate in the back forty of the car. So as pretty as those quilted leather seats are, the legroom is tight and there’s less seatback rake than hardtop model. 

First we cruised Sunset Boulevard and Beverly Hills in general, not because we were shallow poseur douche weasels fulfilling a stereotype, but because it was on the way to our favorite twisting two-lane mountain road. Plus, it gave us a chance to review the car from the point of view of the shallow poseur douche weasel. Not that anyone who buys a Lamborghini could be classified as that, but some exoto-rental car drivers may be. We’d heard.

Alas, it was too early in the day to gain any of the coveted social status supercar owners sometimes seek. All the starlets were still sleeping it off in their Beverly Hills bungalows. Only a few jet-lagged German tourists roamed the streets. A few took pictures of the Lambos, perhaps thinking Stewart was a Charlton Heston clone. No one looked at me.

Stewart: We wound our way through great roads high above the Hollywood hills and after a short freeway blast picked up the sweet, sinewy curves of Angeles Crest Highway in the San Gabriel Mountains. It was a rough assignment but we tried to make the best of it.

Again, the 580-2 felt so much better than any Lambo before it. The influence of the Audi engineers was palatable and much appreciated. It turned, it braked, it was a real car. Granted, it didn’t turn and brake like a Porsche, McLaren or Ferrari, but its progress was worth a Most Improved trophy if anyone was handing those out.

Ben felt similarly happy with the 610-4. Lamborghini calls it “Performance and lifestyle under the open sky.” This version of the 5.2-liter V10 makes 602 SAE hp, good for a top speed listed at 201 mph.

Stewart: In the canyons, sun blasting our faces, the LP-610-4 Spyder is ridiculously fun — and potent. Lamborghini says the roadster hits 60 mph in just 3.4 seconds. And it feels no less thrilling and no slower than the last LP-610-4 coupe we drove six months ago, despite weighing over 250 pounds more. This thing is a beast. And few sounds are as wild as this Lambo’s V10 in Corsa mode bouncing off those rock walls. The Lambo has loads of grip. But what you do feel when you push it on Angeles Crest is tiny movements in the steering column. When you push the car hard, it feels a little unsettled and does understeer. You’d only notice this if you had a Coupe along to drive over the exact same road — which we did. The steering in those corners feels slightly less precise in this droptop. 

While the engine in the LP 580-2 was down 30 hp on the LP 610-4, it made no real difference. Unless you’re at Bonneville… Photo by Mark Vaughn

When we reached the top of Angeles Crest just over 7,000 feet up in the San Gabriel Mountains at Cloudburst Summit, we swapped cars. “Yikes,” I thought, going from the relatively roomy 580 to the scrunched-up 610. My scrawny chicken legs were too long to fit comfortably in here (I’m only 6 feet-nothin’) and there wasn’t enough room to slide the seat back as much as would have been nice. I drove with my elbows askance not quite like a clown in a clown car but close to it. The car was too small for me and, with the top down, I began to fry like an egg on that sunny day. Stewart, meanwhile, was having fun.

Stewart: Slide into the LP 580-2 and we’re immediately more comfortable. The difference in legroom is so dramatic it had us wondering as first if the actual wheelbases of the two cars are different. They aren’t. But anyone over 6 feet tall will have a more enjoyable drive in a Huracan coupe. On the outside, Lamborghini has installed redesigned lower fascia with larger scoops that make the LP 580-2 look even more aggressive than the LP 610-4, if that’s even possible. When Lamborghini removed the all-wheel drive system on this model, the Huracan lost 72.6 pounds. But it also lost 30 horsepower, down to 580. You will not notice or miss any of those horses. Lamborghini quotes the 0-60 mph time identical to our Spyder. Lay into the throttle and it’s just as angry and ferocious-sounding. And that’s just how a Lamborghini should be.

We took off down the hill. Even though the 610-4 had those 30 more hp, like Ben said, I didn’t notice them. I was just trying to fit into the thing. And the handling felt more skittish. The 580 had been fairly smooth — when it went into a corner it stayed there all the way through the radius. You didn’t have to make any corrections. In the 610 you were always making tiny, minor adjustments. Maybe more seat time would have had me sorting it out better, maybe I’m a talentless dope, but I felt far less dopey in the 580. Granted, a skidpad and a slalom would reveal more, but up here the Spyder felt jumpier than the coupe.

Our favorite? The LP 580-2. Easier to drive, easier to sit in and it has a roof.

Stewart: Out on the twisty road, the 580-2 feels more direct, purposeful and connected to the road. It weighs 344 pounds less than the Spyder and feels like a little bit of slack has been taken out of every suspension and steering component. Lamborghini says there’s a good reason we notice this, because the suspension is stiffer and steering is recalibrated over the 610-4. Even the brakes and Pirelli P Zeros are specific to this model. It’s a big improvement. This car feels locked down and more serious about its job than the Spyder. It’s more playful too, and ridiculously fun to hit the corners carrying a lot of speed. Lamborghini says it’s tuned to provide “oversteering characteristics.” We restrained ourselves from drifting the big Bull, but that probably explains why it feels so lively on Angeles Crest.

So the winner? For cruising Sunset and wowing starlets, you’ll want the Spyder. For driving fun in a less-expensive package, pick the 580-2. Stewart agrees.

Stewart: The Spyder is gorgeous. But it’s the rear-drive 580-2 we’d park in our own garage. The driving experience is so much more involving. The 580-2 is the Huracan for the driver who’s going hit the good roads every weekend. It certainly left us wanting more time behind the wheel.

And with that we returned both cars to the secret Lambo lair and drove off in completely unremarkable crossover SUVs, not feeling “really excited” at all about coming back down to Earth. 

“Most of our customers are what I call experience junkies,” says Bill Scott, who with Christian Fittipaldi has just launched the Texas-based Fittipaldi Exotic Driving. For such people, piloting a supercar on a track is a bucket-list item alongside jumping out of a plane or maybe climbing into one of those “Shark Week” cages. A quick glance at the fleet of cars on offer at Texas Motor Speedway on a recent morning, though, suggests that Scott, who spent 20 years working with Richard Petty, is a car guy first and experience-peddler second. Rather than a portfolio of the newest and flashiest, FED’s stable leans heavily toward hardcore track specials.

“Of course, for something like this, you need a Ferrari, you need a Lamborghini, you need a Porsche,” Scott says. But instead of a 488 or 458 Italia (“We had one,” Scott tells me, shaking his head. “It spent more time in the shop than it did on the track.”), here are a pair of 430 Scuderias, the track-weapon variant of the late F430 that’s only become more prized since being succeeded by the 458 in 2010. Likewise, house Lamborghinis are Superleggera and Balboni editions of the familiar Gallardo, cars set up from the factory for track duty. A Porsche 911 Carrera S and Nissan GT-R Black Edition round out the range of options.

A quick classroom briefing is followed by a couple crew-cab pickup laps around the 1.4-mile infield course, an instructor helpfully pointing out the cones denoting braking points and apexes along the way. “Most places just show you a video of the track,” Scott points out. I was kind of hoping we might get to walk it, Jackie Stewart-style — you know, to really assess the fine grain of the track conditions — but yeah, warm-up laps are good, too. 

Fittipaldi Exotic Driving Photo by Peter Hughes

With startling little ceremony, my turn is up. Plopping down behind the wheel of the midnight-blue Scuderia, I exchange pleasantries with Andy, my all-business right-seat guide. As a guy whose job is talking fools through their first encounters with 500-hp supercars, his gruff demeanor makes sense. I quickly resolve to shut off my brain and do as I’m told.

Pulling a paddle to engage first — my first dual-clutch experience will be in automatic mode, alas, but given how much else is going on here, that’s going to be just fine — I dip a toe in the water and, at Andy’s urging, accelerate smartly down the front straight. No doubt the Ferrari’s flat-plane crankshaft V8 is making an unholy howl at this point, but I couldn’t actually tell you as all I have time to focus on is a rapidly approaching series of cones and the voice in my helmet telling me to brake for the first corner. Rolling of the throttle, adding in steering, aim for the cone — thanks, Andy. I’m starting to get the hang of this now, of listening, anyway. Timidly track through the back esses. A decreasing-radius right deposits us on a short straight before a quick sweeper past the start-finish line. “Go, go, go!” Andy shouts, and I gratefully comply.

You’ll notice there hasn’t been much said about the car to this point. The car that — were I a paying customer — would presumably be the whole point of the exercise. That’s because 100 percent of my attention is focused on following instructions and getting the line right. Are those experience junkies as concerned with not screwing up as I am? No way of knowing. About halfway through my second lap, though, I find myself leaning into the car as I learn to trust Andy more fully, and putting together a series of turns that feels moderately fluid. We blow past a slower car heading onto the front straight, and this time I’m briefly able to enjoy the rush of a Ferrari at full tilt on a racetrack. Are those LEDs lighting up on the steering wheel? They are! I’ll be damned.

Fittipaldi Exotic Driving Photo by Peter Hughes

Coming out of turn one, I feel the suspension load up and savor the sensation of the Pirelli Corsas using some fraction of their considerable grip. Of course, the reason I’m feeling this is that I’ve held the steering angle constant and completely failed to follow the line out of the turn, which leaves me set up all wrong for the coming esses, a fact Andy notes evenly. There’s a sort of uncertainty principle at work here, it seems: I can focus on the car or I can focus on the track, but I’m a long way from being able to pay attention to both. I finish my laps without incident and cruise back into the staging line, wishing I could stay out for about four more hours.

Verdict: cool, worthwhile, but slightly anti-climatic and not exactly perception-altering. It’s what comes next that succeeds in resetting my reality, as I climb into FED’s other car, a gutted and fully caged Porsche Cayman bored out to 3.9 liters and running on slicks. Behind the wheel is Christian Fittipaldi, defending United SportsCar Championship champ for two years running, two-time winner of the 24 Hours of Daytona, a guy who’s competed in everything from Formula One to NASCAR and was once named Indianapolis 500 Rookie of the Year. “So, they told you about how you’re supposed to slow down when you get to the cones, right?” I ask him. He shoots me a quizzical look.

Seconds later, Fittipaldi isn’t so much sailing past those cones as full-throttle accelerating through them before standing the car on its nose and diving towards the apex. The amount of speed he carries through the corners that follow is just unreal, and unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. I cackle like a madman the entire time. Pulling back in after a couple laps I attempt to collect myself. “Horsepower?” Fittipaldi shrugs. “About 400,” he says, adding, “This is basically an entry-level race car.” OK, fine. It is clearly not being driven by an entry-level driver.

Fittipaldi Exotic Driving Photo by Peter Hughes

It’s worth noting that Fittipaldi hasn’t just lent his name to the business; he’s both co-owner with Scott and an active participant, even if he won’t always be on hand to provide IMSA-caliber thrill-rides. “It’s so easy to stay in your cocoon,” he tells me later, and one gets the sense the cocoon in question is a metaphorical one, and not that of a Daytona prototype. “For me, this is a way to make new connections, create new opportunities, to really do something cool,” he says, with a guilelessness that’s genuinely disarming. A professional race car driver who wants to get out and meet people? What’s next?

Unlike similar outfits that travel the country hitting a given location maybe twice a year, FED is restricting its territory to Texas for the time being, enabling them to make monthly stops at TMS in Dallas, Driveway Austin, and their home base at MSR Houston.

Is it worth it? Sure. Tell your thrill-seeking friends looking to impress their Instagram feeds to head to Texas Motor Speedway: they won’t find a more professionally run program or a better experience. If you’re an enthusiast curious to drink from the forbidden chalice of modern automotive exotica, though, skip TMS for Austin or Houston (what they lack in Temple of Motorsport grandeur they make up for with longer and more challenging tracks), and maybe look into getting some track instruction in lesser (and less expensive) machinery beforehand, so that when you do get out there in your dream ride, you might be able to more fully appreciate it.

Finally, if offered a ride with Christian Fittipaldi? Say yes. 

What’s it like to drive?

As we mentioned, the Huracan Spyder nails the 0-62 mph sprint in 3.4 seconds. It tops out at 201 mph.

Also, its convertible top can deploy or retract in a stated 17 seconds at speeds of up to 31 mph.

You can probably guess which set of figures we got acquainted with during the launch, which was conducted in a rain-drenched, high-traffic greater Miami metropolitan area (actually, we timed the top-dropping at 15 seconds, which is handy when you’re dodging foul weather).

Since Lamborghini considers the Spyder the “lifestyle” addition to the Huracan lineup, the choice of local was logical, if perhaps a little obvious. It was refreshing to be able to drive our “Kill Bill”-inspired, Guy Fieri-approved yellow-on-yellow-and-black Huracan Spyder without stopping traffic, the kind of thing only possible in someplace as car-jaded Miami. But the sequence of city streets, expressways and long, straight two-lanes out in the everglades, while perhaps an accurate representation of how the average supercar is used, is a poor match for the Huracan’s capabilities.

This thing was not meant to spend its life cruising South Beach, soggy or otherwise. Tolerant though it may be of low-speed crawling, it wants you to rev its free-breathing V10 to the sky and experience the perception-warping thrill of Vmax.

Maybe that’s the curse of owning a daily-drivable supercar, or super-sports car, or whatever something low and wide with 600-plus hp and all-wheel drive is considered these days: Unless you’re behind the wheel purely to bask in the adoration of exotic car-hungry plebs, you’re reduced to living for the occasional track day, or a few miles on your favorite quiet backroad, or a blessed break in the traffic on an unpatrolled stretch of I-95.

When you do get to wind it up and stretch it out a little, you’ll find the Huracan Spyder’s transition from mild-mannered tourer to track-ready aggressor nothing but fluid. There’s not a hint of turbo lag, because there are no turbos. The cowl doesn’t shake and shudder with the top down, and the car doesn’t flop down the road or around corners, because (believe it or not) convertible technology has advanced since the 1970s.

If anything, it’s so composed that you have to push it further than you ought to to revel in the sensation of speed. All of this is yet more evidence that the members of the Huracan family are, at long last, the Thoroughly Modern Lambos we’ve all been waiting for.

And yet, not too modern. So many high-performance cars assault drivers with adjustability and configurability; with throttle, steering and suspension modes to play with, you feel like you have to program the damned things before you drive them. You can trick your Huracan out with magnetorheological suspension (advisable) and the ratio-adjusting Lamborghini Dynamic Steering system (we’d pass on this option), but all told, there are few parameters to dial in here; you just slither in and go at whatever pace you wish.

It’s not that Lamborghini has turned its back on the sort of electronics that make 600 hp perfectly manageable in the wet. It’s that the company has made the implementation of all of this space-age wizardry feel fairly organic. Rather than the suite of buttons and toggles you’ll find on, say, a BMW M-car, the Huracan gets one big red steering wheel-mounted switch with three selectable drive modes — strada for street, sport for…sporty driving, corsa for the track.

And surprise! You can wring incredible performance out of the car, no matter the mode, with appropriate application of the throttle.

Our yellow tester had a yellow and black leather interior. Great for Guy Fieri, but we’d probably go another route. Photo by Lamborghini

Do I want it?

You don’t buy one of these if you’re looking to fly under the radar; that’s something that has been more true of Lamborghinis, historically, than some other cars in this corner of the market.

In case you haven’t noticed, things have changed since the age of the Countach. If you’ve written off Lamborghinis as style-over-substance blank canvasses for questionable aftermarket rims and offensive vinyl wraps, you’ve been missing out.

The company still makes a hairy, scissor-doored, V12-powered beast — that’s the Aventador — but the Huracan Spyder is the sort of exotic you could, if you were so inclined, live with every day. It’s comfortable enough to drive cross-country, too, so long as you steer clear of the optional carbon fiber bucket seats and hire a chase vehicle to tote your luggage.

But why are we trying to sell you on the practicality of a $267,545 convertible? Buy the Huracan Spyder because it has character, and because it makes a statement no matter which color your order it in. Buy it because it rocks one of a shrinking number of naturally aspirated powerplants, stuffed into a rock-solid chassis and mated to an all-wheel-drive system modern enough to tame it. Buy it because, unless you take yourself far too seriously, it’s fun to be in — even if you’re not going particularly fast.

If you’re about to drop north of a quarter of a million bucks on a car, it goes without saying that you have options. This is one you owe it to yourself to try — even if you don’t consider yourself a Lamborghini person — before you make any rash decisions. Just make sure you line up some clear skies and empty roads, preferably with a curve or two, before you grab the keys.

We love the sky blue paint — even if we barely saw the sun during our drive. Photo by Lamborghini

Graham Kozak – Graham Kozak drove a 1951 Packard 200 sedan in high school because he wanted something that would be easy to find in a parking lot. He thinks all the things they’re doing with fuel injection and seatbelts these days are pretty nifty too.
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Our Preconceived Notions of the Aston Martin DB9 GT

Undercoffler: Power, beauty, age. That’s what Aston’s entire lineup stands for right now. This basic design language and the DB9’s architecture has been around for more than a decade, and in supercar years that’s an eternity. This means handling abilities will have a tough time keeping up with the other two in this showdown. And the DB9 is a front-engine GT! But pull up to the valet in a DB9 of even the oldest vintage and no one would know — or care — how old the car is. Elle MacPherson hasn’t aged this well. 

Stewart: The Aston is a very pretty but also a very old design. And so are those underpinnings. But there’s that V12, so it should sound amazing right? Generally, I thought that this would be a fine grand touring machine but not one that would be particularly fun to drive hard. In fact, I thought it would feel downright sloppy compared to the other two on a good road. Wrong again.

Vaughn: I’ve driven a lot of Astons Martin and have pretty much loved them all. The most appealing thing about them is the looks. Such style, such elegance, such a total outrage that Ford gave the Fusion an Aston Martin grille! On our mountain road of choice would it handle like a sports car, or remain in the category of gran touring elite? I suspected the latter.

The Huracan represents 50 years of Lamborghini evolution. Photo by Tim Sutton

Preconceived Notions of the Lamboghini Huracan

Undercoffler: Lambo is Italy, Italy is Lambo. Loud, boorish, flamboyant, ready for a good time at a moment’s notice, a pain in the culo to deal with for a long period of time. This is what the Gallardo was and the Aventador is. So what does that mean for the Huracan? Can uber-German VW group finally beat some civility into the car?

Stewart: To me, the Lamborghini is a stunner. The design has no odd angles or awkward creases. It’s just tough. Look at those exhaust pipes … does any passenger vehicle besides a dually diesel pickup truck have bigger ones? It’s over the top without being cartoonish. But I thought driving the Lamborghini was going to be a somewhat shallow experience — fun and loud for about 10 minutes and then frustratingly compromised for longer drives.

Vaughn: I always loved the looks of Lamborghinis, and in my youth just assumed anything with that cool-looking an exterior on the poster would also be engineered to go as fast as its exterior promised. I still recall the Countach’s top speed claim of 202 mph with weak knees, whether it was ever true or not. Subsequent actual Lamborghini drives, from a Countach to a Diablo and on up to the Aventador and Gallardo confirmed that these cars did, in fact, look terrific.

The McLaren 650S makes you wonder how wonderful a world it would have been if McLaren had been building road cars all along? Photo by Tim Sutton

Preconceived Notions of the McLaren 650S Spider

Undercoffler: McLaren is a royal family in the supercar and motorsport worlds. This car comes with a list of ingredients that includes a carbon fiber tub, doors that open “like this” (go watch “Silicon Valley”), a semi-active suspension system and a 3.8-liter, twin-turbo V8. Anyone could put those ingredients together and make a supercar. My only pessimism stems from the 650S’ predecessor, the 12C, which was an amazing car in its own right but neutered of raw emotion.

Stewart: I thought that a supercar manufactured by a small (yet legendary) company in England would have compromises. Lots of compromises. I thought the build quality and ride comfort would be terrible. And the small turbocharged V8, although ridiculously powerful, would probably suffer from lag and simultaneously lack of character. In short, I didn’t think I’d really enjoy this car. I was very, very wrong.

Vaughn: There would have to be flaws, right? Some kind of flaws?

So off we drove, with preconceived notions intact, up one of our favorite local twisting mountain roads, perfectly empty in the middle of the week. The road was dry, the sky was blue and we had three full tanks of gas. There weren’t even any police! What could possibly go wrong? 

It was like Supercar Sunday except that it was Wednesday. Photo by Tim Sutton

What Were They Like To Drive? Aston Martin DB9 GT

Undercoffler: This is a car that begs for sweeping mountain passes or lazy high-speed getaways. There’s power everywhere from the Aston Martin’s massive 6.0-liter V12. The pickup is hearty, though there are a few holes in the torque band. For all the engine’s alacrity, it’s surprisingly quiet. Think of Adele singing into a box of tissues. An aftermarket exhaust system would do wonders for this car’s virility. The steering is direct and on-point, the brakes are superb. The automatic transmission is slow and a near antique in a time when basic Fiats offer dual-clutch gearboxes. And there’s an unfortunate amount of body roll when you push this car to keep up with the others.

Stewart: The coolest part about the DB9 to me isn’t that it’s a little more plush and easy to live with daily than these other two. Or even that it cost about $100,000 less than the others. What makes this car interesting to me is that it drives like a big British muscle car. And one that handles well. This Aston wasn’t nearly as sharp or as quick as the other two. The suspension is relatively soft. But it was really fun to drive hard because there’s something about it that lets you really bond (hah, pun!) with it on a good road. I got into a sweet rhythm driving this car hard and didn’t care that the other two supercars were miles ahead. Of course, one big letdown is that the interior doesn’t feel as finely crafted as most cars costing this much. But more importantly, the major problem for me was that this engine just didn’t have the big V12 wail I was hoping for. It was way too quiet and reserved. That’s probably what Aston buyers want.

Vaughn: This is, indeed, a proper gentleman’s gran touring automobile that proved itself more than adept at cornering and equally impressive at launching itself quickly and with alacrity from a standstill right into somewhere in the middle of next week. It’s not a sports car, when pushed hard on tight corners it doesn’t feel as quick to respond as smaller, lighter cars. But when you want to have fun and still be able to drive to Vegas and back in luxury and at speed, even if you take a route that has some curves, this is the car. The 6.0-liter V12 is immensely powerful and sounds like Beelzebub gargling bowling balls in the basement when the hammer is sent down, which it often is in this conveyance. Cynics — jealous, bitter cynics — would say the design is old, the vertical-horizontal architecture is aging and … they’d probably come up with a third point to make that we can’t fathom. But cynics, you haven’t driven this car! 

Even the steering wheel of the McLaren is perfect. Photo by Tim Sutton

What Were They Like To Drive? Lamborghini Huracan AWD

Undercoffler: Oh my, this is a lot of fun. It’s still a loud, raucous machine, one that’s never afraid to blare the glory of a naturally aspirated V-10 engine out of four engorged tailpipes. But there’s an added dash of refinement, of maturity, to this car that the more basic Gallardo never had: this is a Lambo with fewer buttons undone on its shirt. The real transformation in this car versus its predecessor is the new gearbox, a seven-speed dual-clutch unit that always delivers quick, crisp shifts in either manual or automatic modes. The Huracan’s handling has a heft and a subtle, neutral feel that makes turning easy at speed but at the expense of the natural feeling a RWD car provides. Blame the all-wheel-drive system for this, though it’s more intelligent than before. With the engine where the universe wants it (mid-mounted), the weight transfer is predictable and linear. 

Stewart: The Huracan is all about theater. The interior has crazy video game graphics on a gauge package that looks like it belongs in a flight simulator. The row of toggle switches is also very cool and seems purposeful. And yes, there’s the big red starter button under the flap. To me, it’s all fun and designed to make you feel like this this a special experience. It is. The engine is a nasty brute that revs like a maniac and sounds furious. I love it. There’s a reason you see (and hear) people downshifting these cars all over Los Angeles — the shriek from the engine at redline is so good, it makes you want to hear it all the time. The view out the front is somewhat compromised by the car’s design. It’s not exactly a “gun slit,” but you can see more of the world around you from the driver’s seat of the other two cars here. Of the three modes, “corsa” was too stiff on just about every road. So I left it in “sport” for our mountain drive. The steering is very, very precise but a little lifeless compared to the McLaren. In fact, just about everything in the Lamborghini feels a bit artificial and “managed.” Like there’s a digital overlord controlling every aspect of the drive. Still, that overlord knows what he’s doing because this is one astonishingly quick car on any road. Put the system back into “strada” and the Lambo’s hard edges are softened and I reckon this could be a car you could drive daily. Maybe.

Vaughn: The Huracan cancels out everything you’ve heard about how Lamborghinis drive. Suddenly they can turn and stop as well as launch into oblivion in a straight line. Finally, the engineering matches the exterior. Victory for the Italians!

The 650S, oh baby, or whatever they say in the UK. Photo by Tim Sutton

What’s It Like to Drive? McLaren 650S

Undercoffler: Surprise! It’s amazing. What makes this McLaren (and all others I’ve driven) is that bedrock of any good relationship, communication. The driver has an innate sense of everything this car is doing at every moment. There are no surprises. Combine this with extraordinary capabilities and the result is a machine that takes you right up to your limits as a pilot. There is nothing more pure than a mid-engine, rear-wheel-drive sports car of any size or power. The engine is alive in a way it wasn’t in the 12C, the sport exhaust is sporty, the steering is so good the U.K. should designate a national holiday in its honor. The 650S artfully toes the line between civility and slavish hedonism. The gearbox is good but if we’re nitpicking they were crisper in the Lambo. And the feel of the McLaren’s brakes take a little getting used to. 

Stewart: I can’t imagine a car that offers a more pure driving experience in this class. I’ve not driven a 488 GTB but I’d imagine these two would be very close in terms of capability and overall feel. The elegant and talented McLaren made the Lamborghini seem a little loud and obnoxious. I’d get one in the most understated color and drive it every day. Los Angeles is a place where Lamborghini and Ferrari sightings are not rare. Since McLaren is such a small volume company, you likely won’t see many others. So the McLaren has the exclusivity to match the driving experience.  

Vaughn: Short of the mighty and all-powerful (and now discontinued) million-dollar P1, this may be the best pure road-feel car ever built. Grab the steering wheel — even the wheel is perfectly formed for human hands — and give it a twist on even a slight curve and you immediately feel a connection to the pavement formerly reserved only for street sweeper bristles and patches of sticky bubble gum. The balance is perfect, perfect! And while you might get better looks from a Ferrari 488, you’d have a heck of a time buying one. To paraphrase Jay Leno’s potato chip ad: Buy all the McLarens you want, they’ll make more.

Those tire marks were there when we got there… Photo by Tim Sutton

Our Final Analysis Aston Martin DB9 GT

Undercoffler: Make no mistake about it: this is an old-school GT machine. With a V12 the size of the La-Z-Boy I’m sitting in mounted up front, comparing it to the others is almost unfair. It’s not built to lap tracks like the McLaren or lap the Nobu parking lot like the Lamborghini. It’s built to cruise at constable-meeting speeds. And while it devours the miles comfortably, it looks better than anything else it’s sharing the road with. You forgive (and forget) this car’s age the moment you see it. Which is why Aston’s been able to keep the DB9 around for so long: no one can say no to this car, even if pure performance is better left to other brands. Its beauty has kept it competitive.

Stewart: The Aston is out of its league in terms of a supercar that’s really racetrack capable. The DB9 is a tasteful, understated and gorgeous long-distance touring machine. This would be the one to take up HWY 1 from LA to Pebble Beach. In that regard, it might compete more with a Mercedes-Benz S65 AMG S-Class Coupe. Still, in world where supercars costing multiple six figures are fitted with all-new chassis and powertrains regularly, this Aston seems outdated. Even the aforementioned Mercedes-Benz is a brand new machine.

Vaughn: As close as it comes to a usable daily driver, you can’t make the DB9 be the really practical Swiss-army-knife problem-solver that some kind of only-car would be. Actual children we interviewed, who should theoretically have fit into the rear seats, made it clear they hated them, especially when an arch-rival sibling got the front seat. This opinion held true even for short trips. In fact, going to the grocery store I preferred a small subcompact to this. I actually had that choice and made it. But if you want a performance coupe that is far more livable than a sports- or supercar, then this is it.

Buyers in the $200,000 to $300,000 range are well-taken-care-of. Photo by Tim Sutton

Our Final Analysis Lamborghini Huracan AWD

Undercoffler: Lambo made a lot of improvements on this car and in the process created perhaps the first daily driver in its history. This car’s selling point is its naturally aspirated engine. With Ferrari’s 488 and everything in McLaren’s lineup using turbos, the lack of forced induction is becoming a bigger asset. There are holes in its delivery of torque, but they’re minor; just put the Huracan’s excellent new transmission to use. The styling is clean and masculine but still hangs on to that Italian flair that gets you noticed. This is for the buyer who wants more noise than the McLaren, literally and figuratively. 

Stewart: The Lambo is built to attract attention and thrill its passengers like almost nothing else in the class. Few cars are louder in terms of engine or personality. This is not the understated choice in the $300,000 price class. But it’s also a lot of fun. The McLaren is a better driver’s car, with more delicate and nuanced controls — how I imagine a Ferrari 488 would be. So I think on a racetrack, the Lamborghini might be a step behind those cars.

Vaughn: It is so much better than any Lamborghini ever made. All Lambos past were basically beautiful mounting points for very large engines. Turn a corner in a previous Raging Bull and you could feel the massive V12 (or V10) lean over and drag along next to the car like a designated driver’s woozy passenger. They were terrific in straight lines, so much horsepower and so much torque, and they were always beautiful to look at, but they couldn’t turn worth a 10-lira banknote. Now, Lamborghini has made a car that can turn corners and even brake at stops. It’s a proper sports car that is no doubt giving those poseurs in Maranello nightmares. If there was an award for most improved, Huracan would get it. It turns, it steers, it stops. 

McLaren 650S drives as well as it looks, better even. Photo by Tim Sutton

Our Final Analysis McLaren 650S

Undercoffler: Driving the 650S begs the question: why didn’t McLaren start making more road cars sooner, 1990’s F1 notwithstanding? With an enviable motorsports pedigree, daily-drivability and more exoticism (it’s a word) than a Ferrari of its stature, the mere existence of the 650S should make any car nerd smile. Plus, anyone can walk into a McLaren dealership with a pillowcase full of cash and drive out in one of these cars, rather than deal with the multi-car/multi-year screening process Ferrari puts up. This is the one-and-done supercar: if you have to choose one once, not the billionaire’s quiver of machinery, there are no regrets associated with parking a 650S in your driveway. Ever. 

Stewart: The Lambo is built to attract attention and thrill its passengers like almost nothing else in the class. Few cars are louder in terms of engine or personality. This is not the understated choice in the $300,000 price class. But it’s also a lot of fun. The McLaren is a better driver’s car, with more delicate and nuanced controls — how I imagine a Ferrari 488 would be. So I think on a racetrack, the Lamborghini might be a step behind those cars.

Vaughn: Oh man, oh man, oh man. It may not have the styling of the Ferrari, but it also lacks the Italian’s pretense. And the precision with which it slices and dices curves is just about unmatched in my experience. If you are looking for a sports car not to impress others but to impress (and entertain) yourself, this is easily the one. Oh baby.

Photo by Tim Sutton

Our Final Answer

For style and grace, buy the Aston Martin. For straight line speed, marvelous street presence and now even some turning, get the Lamborghini. For superb sports-car handling perfection — oh man — get the McLaren.