Awesome, awesome read. I'll just post some cliffs but I suggest you take a few minutes to read through it all.
2014 Pagani Huayra Review - Autoblog
2014 Pagani Huayra Review - Autoblog
My default condition as a law-abiding citizen is to typically play it safe to avoid incarceration, yet I think that part of my personality leapt out of my moving car a few miles back. My residual self has been left with an overwhelming urge to mash the Huayra's beautifully sculpted alloy accelerator pedal and hold on as a twin-turbocharged V12 releases its fury. I long to be molded into the seat as 730 horsepower turns the loathed, congested 405 freeway ahead of me into a blur. The urge to launch this carbon-fiber coupe clear into the next county at hyperspeed – regardless of any legal or life-threatening penalties – is terrifyingly overpowering.
Wisely, I've got a passenger belted next to me whose shirt is embroidered with a Pagani logo. The gentleman comes with the car and assumes the role of babysitter, technical expert, therapist and counselor – trained to preserve both the $1.84-million hypercar and my driver's license.
The cabin is flamboyant, for lack of a better word, with lots of bright eye candy and minute contrasting details that tickle your inner geek. You'll want to sit for about five minutes just to take it all in. The flat-bottom, carbon-fiber steering wheel is optimally placed, with meaty leather grips for the hands and thick, raised stitching that you can feel with your fingertips. There are no turn signal stalks, as that pedestrian task is assigned to individual aluminum buttons on the wheel's spokes. It's the same story for the headlights and wipers – both controlled by cone-shaped aluminum knobs on the steering wheel. The horn buttons are embedded in the leather rim of the wheel.
Driving a borrowed car that costs $1.84 million on public roads is absolutely terrifying, as everything within eyesight is an exaggerated threat to its well-being – and my employment. The tractor trailer dropping gravel, the teenage girl texting while driving and the motorcycle rider splitting lanes are each capable of causing hundreds of thousands of dollars in damage in the blink of an eye.
Outward visibility, always a dilemma when piloting a closed-roof supercar, isn't bad at all. There's good visibility to the front and sides, and even the rear. Of course, there's a big blind spot over each shoulder, but those trick exterior mirrors, which hang in space at the end of delicate carbon-fiber wings on each front quarter panel, are exceptionally placed. I want them on my daily driver, but they might just cost as much as my car.
The Huayra's suspension is nothing short of race-spec componentry slightly detuned for street use. Raising the front or rear bodywork exposes double-wishbones and pushrod-actuated Ohlins dampers – most of the parts are anodized gold, making them even more striking. Light, strong and stunning, these miniature works of art are formed out of Avional, an aluminum alloy rich in copper.
But wait, there's more. The Huayra is fitted with an automatic hydropneumatic front suspension jack that continuously raises and lowers the nose to vary the its angle of attack – like a jet fighter. Its aircraft-like maneuverability is further improved with four independent movable ailerons, one at each corner, which come to life at speeds above 50 mph.
The Huayra's ride on the freeway is best described as aggressively firm – not abusive. Most of the commotion is from the absurdly oversized contact patches. To ensure the Pagani stays planted, engineers have fitted sticky Pirelli P-Zero rubber at all four corners (255/35YR19 front and 335/30YR20 rear). The tires are mounted on ultra-lightweight forged alloy wheels, and they beat like drums on the LA pavement.
The twin-turbocharged 6.0-liter V12, sourced from Mercedes-Benz, develops 720 horsepower and 738 pound-feet of torque all-in. That's enough thrust to launch the 2,950-pound Pagani Huayra from a standstill to illegal velocities in under three seconds. A firm foot on the accelerator initiates a guttural sucking noise that originates just aft of each side window at the air intake port, followed by a wallop of forward thrust that feels like a solid rocket booster has been lit. I hold on, admittedly a bit panicked, for a few seconds before easing off.
Add up the aforementioned technical wizardry applied to keeping the chassis level and controlled during cornering, and it's no wonder body roll is virtually nonexistent. There is no pitch under acceleration or dive during deceleration, it's absolutely dead stable. Similarly, the steering offers a perfect amount of resistance, feedback and vibration. It might just be flawless.
I so want to hear the sound of the V12 at full boil, but its wail is strangely inaudible from within the cabin. Instead, the overpowering noise is an angry whoosh provided by the intakes. Their sucking sound is implausibly loud. Deafening, really – as if the smooth pipes are located on the seatbacks themselves. Once you realize you won't be sucked into the AMG-crafted engine, you can start to enjoy it.
The handling, steering and braking are superb, but you'll find yourself making concessions for the gearbox. The seven-speed automated manual gearbox, mounted transversely behind the differential to allow the engine to be placed closer to the rear wheels, is a single-clutch design. It saves a reported 200 pounds over a suitable dual-clutch unit, but its mass savings don't offset the fact that it comes off as slow, clunky, temperamental and restless. To reduce the likelihood of its angry mannerisms damaging your vertebrae, it's best to forgo automatic mode and shift via paddle only after lifting briefly between shifts. Full-throttle gearchanges are quick but shocking, best described as merciless. (My Pagani minder claimed the gearbox in my test car was behaving badly, as it needed servicing).
Seat time in the Huayra is distinctive – unique among other supercars. Ferrari, McLaren, Lamborghini, Bugatti and Porsche all coerce the driver into becoming part of a perfectly polished instrument, surrounding the fortunate operator with a delicious exhaust note that makes them feel part of the vehicle. The Pagani, on the other hand, has an exhilarating sharp edge to it that never allows you to drop your guard. I was constantly nervous, relentlessly cautious and overwhelmingly engaged. The exhaust note is so distant that the driver feels perched at the nose, as if mounted on the tip of a rocket ship with unlimited thrust on tap. It's hard not to be mesmerized by this fascinating, imperfect machine – the driving experience is intoxicating.
Late in the afternoon, after many wondrous hours in its leather saddle, I round a corner to see a straight desert road stretching far in front of me. The scene is surreal, with the warm sun at my back and a desolate, perfectly flat paved surface beaconing. Realizing a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, I do what any warm-blooded automotive enthusiast would do while driving a Pagani Huayra – I bury the throttle.
The V12's vocal intakes take a deep breath, my cheeks stretch back to my earlobes and the world becomes a glorious blur. I may be going crazy, but euphoria is a welcome stop along the way.
