2023 Lamborghini Huracan on 2040-cars

Auto blog

Aussie Ford Falcon GT shows its rear end to Lamborghini Gallardo

When Ford Australia announces, as it did recently, that it wants to celebrate the end of its Ford Performance Vehicle division with a Falcon FPV GT-F that celebrates big-bore origins of the nameplate, it's talking about the kind of car in this video.
At some point the classic Falcon GT - said to be an XY series - was invited to a test of acceleration against a Lamborghini Gallardo. At the very least, the Falcon GT had a 351 cubic-inch motor and 300 horsepower, but whatever this guy's got under the hood of his yellow sedan makes has him so confident that he doesn't even move his elbow from its resting place on the door.
You'll find a reminder of Ford Australia's heyday, a raucous exhaust note and some NSFW language in the short video below.

Jay Leno's Garage gets agrarian with Lamborghini tractor

Stepping away from the trendy and arcane, the next guest in Jay Leno's Garage is a 1968-69 Lamborghini R485 tractor. In case there's anyone who doesn't know, the same Ferruccio Lamborghini ultimately responsible for giving us the Aventador started off making tractors in his native Italy after World War II.
The specs are a long way from anything we'd expect from the company's road-going products. The vineyard and orchard tractor has a 5.0-liter, four-cylinder engine that produces 85 horsepower and 350 foot-pounds of torque, a two-foot clutch and 12 forward gears that get it from 0.3 miles per hour to 14 mph. It's also got a starter motor from a Countach.
There's a whole lot more interesting info on the farm implement, the man who built it and the man who currently owns it in the episode below.

2015 Lamborghini Aventador LP 700-4 Roadster Review

"Lamborghini Murcielago." That's what I would tell anyone who asked what my favorite car was. Yes, there were easier cars to drive than the wailing wraith from Sant'Agata Bolgnese, and that was partly why I liked it so. It was impossible to see out the back – reversing was easiest done with the door open, sitting on the sill. My head banged the door frame when I checked traffic on the left. The seat made my butt hurt. The cabin ergonomics were based on a design language that humans haven't yet translated. It boiled over in stop-and-go traffic. It was big. Yet it drove like nothing else, with the instant zig-zag reflexes of a mako designed in The Matrix. The Murcielago's thrills weren't laid out on the ground, you had to dig for them with your bare hands. And that's what made it outstanding. When I first drove the Aventador at its launch in Rome, I spent the day blasting around the circuit at Vallelunga. It was so easy to drive – "too easy by half," as Jeremy Clarkson would later say of it – viciously quick, unholy fun, and very good. But it was a little too easy to drive. Which is why the Murcielago remained my favorite car, ever. Until two weeks ago. The Aventador came when the rough-diamond Gallardo was Lamborghini's in-house reference for ease-of-use. But now we have the fire-and-forget Huracan. Having driven one after the other, and on the context of LA streets instead of the smooth and open landscape of Vallelunga or Laguna Seca, I now see the Aventador for what it truly is: the representation of the bull that's on the Lamborghini badge – head-down, horns-out anger. Like the Murcielago, the Aventador is big. It's more than ten inches longer than a Chevrolet Corvette, five inches wider than a Dodge Charger SRT Hellcat, and 3.5 inches wider than a Dodge Viper. It is also low, an inch lower than the already ground-floor Huracan. I won't pretend to be rational about it: the Aventador says everything I want a car to say. It's the certain, antidotal statement to brief and befuddled everyday lives. The cabin is a cockpit in every sense: close-fitted, button-filled, lit up. I'm five-foot-eleven, and I wear it like a tailored suit. I gave a ride to a guy who's six-foot-three and perhaps 260 pounds, so it can fit much larger frames but I still don't know how he got in or out through that scissor-door opening. The trunk in the Murcielago was big enough to hold a single dream.