Yahoo Autos Lamborghini Huracán Sterrato Saves the Best for Last
From the July/August issue of Car and Driver.
Usually when you hear about a "jacked-up Lambo," the conversation is centered on a telephone pole or a wet curb just tall enough to high-center a late-model Gallardo. But this Huracán LP610-4 Sterrato, or simply Sterrato, is lifted 1.7 inches to make it as close to an off-road-ready Italian supercar as we have ever seen. And much to our surprise, it is the finest example of the baby Lambo.
Like the many versions of the Huracán that came before it, the Sterrato looks good and goes like stink. But unlike its brethren intended for buttery-smooth roads or racetracks, it's fitted with run-flat Bridgestone Dueler All-Terrain AT002 tires, a suspension lift, and roof rails to attach a rack, should you want to take with you anything more than the four cubic feet of cargo the frunk affords. In addition, the higher center of gravity, revised electronically controlled dampers, and softer springs and anti-roll bars give the Sterrato a compliance heretofore unknown to the Huracán.
Normal Lambo operation in Michigan often requires puckering in preparation for unavoidable craters, along with the occasional "Is that plastic bottle going to hit?" just before you hear it tumble and bounce along the underside. Michigan's paved byways must be modeled after the gravel routes in Italy—sterrato is Italian for dirt road. This Huracán takes a new path, with a supple ride and tires that can soak up breaks, chuckholes, and patching mounds. It's the Marshawn Lynch of supercars: It'll plow right through a lot of crap if it has to, but given some space, it'll be gone in a blink. And while it might not have a Super Bowl ring, its $2600 rally lights sparkle plenty.
Unlike the conceptually similar Porsche 911 Dakar, the Sterrato doesn't have a height- adjustable suspension. But softer legs highlight the chassis's stiffness. Slow-speed suspension action often comes with a clunky report, like there's play in a ball joint attached to the anti-roll bar. Low-grip tires that give up at 0.96 g on the skidpad might seem inappropriate for a Lamborghini, but steering feel and communication are excellent. The best part: Lower grip means you can explore to the limit on a public road without scaring anyone in or outside the car.
Reduced grip—and probably a few other tuning changes—also has a profound effect on the chassis balance. At the limit, the Sterrato lets go in slow motion with neither end breaking away first, but the tail will step out in response to throttle provocation. Easy flips of the steering wheel keep the Sterrato out of trouble and on the road. Not once did we get crossed up. Should a rally school want to teach the Scandi-flick maneuver on gravel, the Sterrato would be better to use than a Subaru WRX. Well, if it were in the budget—our Sterrato was $384,394 as tested.
The rearview mirror is as useless as a rest area without a bathroom, as it reflects only the roof snorkel, which raises the intake tract to keep the V-10 from ingesting dust and debris. We're not fans of video-based rearviews, but in a car this fast, you need a good way to check your six.
Should you want to make the things behind you small, the 602-hp V-10 moves the Sterrato to 60 mph in 2.8 seconds, just 0.3 second off the Huracán Evo. So what if the quarter-mile is three-tenths off too? It's a 10.7-second (at 130 mph) car. Those all-terrain tires do limit the top end, though. For those keeping score, the Sterrato's 161-mph governed top speed is high enough to walk away from the 911 Dakar's 150-mph best on its all-terrain rubber.
In Rally mode, you have to shift yourself, and more than once, we found ourselves banging off the redline at 8500 rpm in a 100-decibel trance. Lamborghini, if you are not going to program automatic upshifts in your racy modes, please consider using the kick-down switch as a signal to the transmission that the driver wants a perfect redline shift. In addition to Rally mode, Strada and Sport are available, though the engine is loudest in Rally, and it's best to let the V-10 sing.
Inside, the Sterrato is pretty much like other Huracáns. Headroom is tight, and you won't find a cupholder. But if you spill coffee, the $1400 floor mats are dishwasher safe, more or less. They're aluminum, covered with grip tape that is otherwise found on the deck of a Powell-Peralta skateboard.
The Sterrato starts at $278,972. If you were really interested in paying that amount, you should have already done so, as all 1499 are sold and likely trading for multiples of the original sticker. Getting a base car up to our as-tested price is pretty easy. Our Sterrato came with $62,100 in paint options alone. Do you like the orange? It's Arancio Xanto, and it costs $14,000. The $23,600 "Sterrato livery" is a series of triangle-shaped accents that are actually painted, unlike the gold-and-red stickers of the Dakar's not-quite-Rothmans livery. The fender flares and rockers have the $17,100 Sterrato Protective, a rugged paint designed to limit damage from airborne stones. Want a number on the hood? That'll be $7400 for the hexagonal "63." Grazie mille, indeed.
Alas, this is probably the last naturally aspirated V-10 we'll ever see in a production car. Even if a 10 returns, it'll have turbos, electrification, or both to lift it out of the efficiency gutter—we averaged 11 mpg. We're mourning the loss but also smiling, pleased that such a memorable engine went out in such an unforgettable and ridiculously good car.
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