There are moments in my line of labor that feel like pure time travel.
You climb right into a automobile that doesn’t just transport you physically, but mentally – back to an era when engineering decisions were made with instinct, when design was the product of 1 man’s pencil stroke, and when cars didn’t have to scream for attention because they carried an aura all of their very own.
Today, that automobile is the limited-edition Lamborghini Jarama S (also often called the GTS), the facelifted and upgraded evolution of the Jarama GT, and the very automobile that Ferruccio Lamborghini himself described as his personal favourite.
Not the Miura. Not the Countach. But this – the understated, front-engined, V12-powerred, 2+2-seat grand tourer that has, for a long time, lived within the shadows of its more famous siblings, partially because only 150 examples were produced.
I do know this because there are just a few old-school Lamborghini craftsmen who worked on these cars with Ferruccio Lamborghini himself still on call on the factory in Sant’Agata Bolognese, and so they told me so.
And I’m driving it where it belongs: on the Passo della Futa, an epic mountain pass that snakes its way between Bologna and Florence, through the Apennines. A road soaked in racing history, once a part of the legendary Mille Miglia, and a real test of any automobile’s mettle.
It’s tight and technical one moment, fast and flowing the subsequent, with blind crests and sweeping valley views in between, simply to remind you why Italy stays the epicentre of driving passion.
Love at first sight
Produced between 1972 and 1976, the Jarama S isn’t conventionally beautiful in the best way the Miura is, neither is it a show-stopper just like the Countach. But stand back from it within the morning light of Emilia-Romagna, and also you see something special.
Marcello Gandini’s design for Bertone is unapologetically angular, a geometrical statement of the early ’70s. The proportions are fascinating: long bonnet, wide stance, and that sharply cut Kamm tail.
The partially covered headlights – often called the ‘sleepy eyes’ – add barely enough menace to a automobile that otherwise carries itself with quiet sophistication.
It doesn’t scream Lamborghini. It doesn’t have to. It is a automobile that was at all times meant for the discerning buyer, someone who wanted the joys of a V12 and the cachet of the raging bull without the flamboyance. And that makes it, in some ways, even cooler.
There’s nothing to prove here. It’s a Gandini-designed Lamborghini with a 4.0-litre V12 under the bonnet. And it makes a noise more delightful than Pavarotti at his sonorous best.
Fire within the belly
Turn the important thing and the three.9-litre quad-cam V12 churns once, then catches with a metallic bark. You continue to have to pump the throttle (greater than once) to feed the carbies in order to not stall it.
The sound is more raw and more mechanical than you may expect. It’s precisely at this point you realise this proper Lamborghini metal.
There’s no modern polish here, only a dozen cylinders firing in unison through six twin-choke Weber carburettors, the idle hunting barely as if desperate to be let out. It’s just utterly addictive even at idle.
Slip the heavy clutch, slot the chunky dogleg gear lever into first, and also you’re away. The primary few hundred metres let you know all the things it’s good to know: this is just not a automobile that coddles you.
Every input requires intention – throttle, brakes, steering. But once you discover the rhythm, it starts to flow and also you quite naturally begin to push.
As it could occur on the day, there was a random Porsche 911 up ahead, clearly attempting to capture dynamic footage of the Jarama on the pass. Only issue was we were catching it – fast.
That’s the thing with this classic Lambo. It’s very easy to get into the flow despite the physicality required behind the wheel. It’s splendidly confidence-inspiring because of beautifully linear steering and throttle response.
Power, pace and a sound for all eternity
On paper, the Jarama S makes 365 horsepower (272kW). That will not sound earth-shattering today, but within the mid-Seventies this was seriously power.
More importantly, it’s the best way it delivers that power. Torque builds progressively, encouraging you to maintain the revs high. Push beyond 4500rpm and the V12 comes alive, racing toward seven grand with an urgency that belies its age.
Flat-out along a rare straight on the Futa, the Jarama feels every bit as fast as its 260km/h claimed top speed suggests. The acceleration isn’t neck-snapping, nevertheless it’s relentless.
There’s a richness to the best way the engine builds, each gear overlapping perfectly with the subsequent, the five-speed gearbox demanding precision but rewarding it with a way of mechanical connection that modern cars have long since filtered out.
Drop it into third for a climbing hairpin, and also you’re treated to one of the intoxicating sounds in motoring: a carburetted Lamborghini V12 echoing off stone partitions, snarling on the best way up, then barking on the overrun as you ease back for the subsequent corner.
It’s pure theatre, but in a way that feels earned, not contrived.
Chassis and handling for days
The shortened Espada platform underpins the Jarama, and that is smart the moment you tackle the primary sequence of hairpins.
Unlike the Espada, which was a real four-seat GT, the Jarama is compact enough to feel nimble. It’s still a comparatively heavy automobile (for its day), tipping the scales at around 1450kg dry, nevertheless it disguises its bulk well.
There’s real agility here. The independent suspension all round keeps it flat in bends, while the short wheelbase allows you to pivot the automobile into corners with surprising accuracy.
You don’t a lot fling it as place it, and the Jarama responds with balance and poise. Mid-corner steering and throttle adjustments are met with compliance slightly than resistance – a rare trait in GT cars of this era.
The brakes, ventilated discs all round, are adequate slightly than spectacular. Best you give the brake pedal just a few hard applications before you get more serious.
Either way, you quickly learn to drive with foresight, braking earlier and leaning on engine braking to maintain things tidy. It’s a reminder that, while performance figures may endure, technology has moved on.
But none of that detracts from the experience. Quite the alternative. It forces you to drive properly, to think ahead, to turn into a part of the method. And that, ultimately, is what makes driving a automobile like this so utterly rewarding.
Feelsome steering
One of the crucial surprising features of the Jarama S is its ZF power steering, fitted as standard.
In an era when most supercars left you wrestling at parking speeds, this feels positively modern. Around town, it’s a revelation – no have to manhandle the automobile into tight spaces.
But the true test is here, on mountain switchbacks. Would the steering be too light, too numb? The reply is not any. There’s still feedback, still weight once you lean right into a bend, still a way of the front tyres biting into the tarmac.
It’s not Miura-direct, nevertheless it’s communicative enough to encourage confidence. You already know what the automobile is doing, and that’s half the battle once you’re hustling something this rare and invaluable.
Cabin vibes
Inside, the Jarama S reflects Lamborghini’s unique approach to luxury within the Seventies. The dashboard was redesigned compared with the sooner Jarama GT, with clearer instruments and more cohesive ergonomics.
Switchgear is scattered in typically Italian fashion, but all the things you would like is close by.
The driving position is barely offset, as was common on the time, but you adapt quickly. Seats are broad and supportive, trimmed in wealthy leather that also carries the scent of its era.
The rear seats exist, technically, but they’re higher suited to luggage or very small companions. In point of fact, it is a two-seater with extra storage – but that was enough to justify its 2+2 billing.
It’s an area that feels purposeful slightly than indulgent. A spot for driving, not lounging. And that suits the Jarama perfectly.
The spirit of the Jarama
Perhaps the best USP of the Jarama S is its sense of identity.
This isn’t a automobile that tries to be something else. It isn’t chasing Ferrari glamour, nor Maserati polish. It’s unapologetically Lamborghini: unconventional, left-field, somewhat eccentric.
And that’s why Ferruccio himself loved it. He wasn’t excited by constructing cars that looked good on posters for teenagers. He wanted cars that he could drive – properly drive – through the countryside, with luggage within the back and a soundtrack under his right foot. The Jarama S delivered that balance.
It marked the tip of an era, too. After this, Lamborghini wouldn’t construct one other front-engined V12 GT until the outlandish LM002 off-roader a decade later. That makes the Jarama S the last of its kind, the swansong of a philosophy that began with the 350 GT within the mid-Nineteen Sixties.
CarExpert’s Take
The Lamborghini Jarama S won’t ever be essentially the most famous automobile to wear the raging bull badge.
It would never command the values of a Miura or the awe of a Countach. But on a road just like the Passo della Futa, you start to know its understated brilliance.
It’s fast enough to thrill you, refined enough to tour in, and agile enough to tackle roads its size suggests it shouldn’t. It’s handsome in a brutalist way, luxurious without being ostentatious, and rare enough to ensure you’ll probably never see one other one.
Most significantly, it connects you to the very heart of Lamborghini – to Ferruccio’s own vision of what a grand tourer ought to be.
And once you’re sitting behind that V12, with the Italian countryside stretching out before you and the exhaust note bouncing back from mountainside cuttings, you realise this was never about being essentially the most flamboyant Lamborghini.
It was about being essentially the most authentic – and in that, the Jarama S succeeds brilliantly.
This Article First Appeared At www.carexpert.com.au
