Ah anonymous connections, what a wonderful thing.

You don’t need the details about who or why. Just that an old roommate was involved, and I flew from Germany to the UK to eventually be surprised by these two! This is going to be one of those days, even without being able to drive.

The Miura and Countach account for 23 years of mid engine, wall poster, Lamborghini halo car history. The former being one of the first mid engines road cars and the car that slapped Ferrari across the face (despite failing clamshell hinges, fuel that likes to escape and ignite, and a tendency to become unbalanced as it loses gas). Meanwhile, the latter defined what it means to be a “wedge”, and alongside the Testarossa, fight for late 70’s and 80’s wall poster supremacy. And cocaine parties.

Both the Miura and Countach have 3.9L na v12’s mounted behind the driver. Both are paired to five speed dog leg gated manuals, sending their carbureted power to the rear wheels accompanied by some of the best noise this side of a Lexus LFA.

But enough background. Look if you’re on MSIMAss.com, you probably know the minutia down to what day that SV was made due to the imperfections in its seat leather. So wtf are they like, even as a passenger?

The Miura is a low car. About an inch taller than a gt40, its body lines are as timeless as they are… curvaceous. You open the doors, and two main things strike you:

1. The transversely mounted v12 is literally on the back of your head.

2. It’s actually a pretty well thought out for a bunch of 20-something year old engineers working for fun after hours.

Getting in isn’t a big challenge, and once you’re in, you realize the visibility out of the car is wonderful. The wide windows and thin sills give you an excellent 180° view out the car (but don’t brother looking back. You have no side mirrors and the central just shows you engine). Thick black leather adorns the surfaces that aren’t bare metal. Touch everything, this may be your only chance to. Let your eyes move from the side grab handle to the wall of gauges (temps, pressures, etc) in the center, before moving on to the barebones but purposeful gauge cluster. You’re sat low in small but comfortable seats with the best panoramic view available. The passenger gets a small bar with a grippy surface as a footrest, as well as the aforementioned grab handle, and that’s it.

The car takes a sec, but comes to life. It’s a little angry, wailing, and wanting to get going, however the character of a Miura is about as smooth as it’s body lines, for this is a GT car at heart. And that’s Back before that solely meant a 4500 lb Bentley or 8 Series.

Into first, and we’re off onto some British B-roads!

The suspension in the Miura is stiffer that you’d expect. Over some bumps your back takes a bit of a jolt (however the countach is worse, and actually feels like it’s riding on coilovers over any imperfection). But the stiffness over low frequency stuff aside, the ride is overall comfortable and the car didn’t give off much instability (but how much can the passenger feel really?).

Getting onto the road with that v12 that has been so patiently nagging to be freed is finally able to breath, and now it begins.

The noise hits you as a visceral wail, building and building as its revs out. It’s not overly loud or aggressive. The Miura likes to sings over shout. The onset of acceleration doesn’t hit you very hard. Almost any sporty car from the past decade will probably punch you harder. However, as it builds your body senses the progressive change in speed. From the center of your chest, you get a feeling that grows with speed. Then, a moment of quiet for a gear change, before it all builds back up again.

I’ve never felt a car where the sensation of acceleration gradually and noticeably builds as the drives. The rest of the drive followed a similar experience, interrupted only by mild traffic along the route.

Eventually we got back to swap cars. And while the Miura felt like an oddly refined and exquisite experience, the Countach is more similar to what you’d expect out of an old Lamborghini.

Seeing one of the early Periscopio cars is interesting. The car lacks the wide body and questionable aerodynamics the later examples got, which usually comes to mind when you imagine a car that reeks of 80’s crack fueled excess. But alas, this is a 70’s car. It’s a sleek, wild wedge, with a massive expanse of a windscreen which does nothing to hide its width. The massive naca ducts also hide the door latchs, and those big, almost industrial inlets which are visible from the side mirrors. Oh yeah, the car has those now, the waltz of progress is truly never ending.

You lift up a heavy but assisted door by the top of the NACA duct, put one foot over the wide leather wrapped sill, then use it to slide down into your seat. Entering is a fairly graceful affair (exiting however…). Once in, the two cars couldn’t be more different. The Countach does away with the center array of gauges, preferring to display everything to the driver through the wide gauge cluster, which isn’t very clear and gets obscured by the sun. Visibility is worse, and unlike the Miura which has minimal rearward visibility…. Don’t bother with this car (but at least you get mirrors!). The low roofline also means you won’t naturally fit correct in the car without either crouching lower or letting your head touch the roof (I’m 5’8”, so I don’t know how anyone actually tall fits in one).

Setting off, the car rides like it’s being suspended by concrete. While the Miura hurt you on some potholes, the Countach takes the sadistic approach of beating your spine into submission whenever it pleases, just so you can eat those words about wanting to be “one with the car”. It’s genuinely a little painful. What isn’t however, is what this car does on the open road. The stiffness translates to a car that seems scarily agile. The owner even compared it to a go kart. However no go kart I’ve ever driven sounds quite like this. Countach’s exhaust note is angrier and dirtier than the Miura (despite being essentially the same motor with some tweaks and now longitudinally mounted). The car moves with a bit more urgency and shouts a very different tone from its predecessor. This ain’t a mid-engined GT car, this wedge wants to kill something (which will probably be your wallet or your spine).

We stopped for gas to fill up the right side fuel tank. The Countach has two, and you’re better off filling both then waiting for them to level. The purple ‘ghini (shoot me) garnered even more attention now parked at a petrol station… aaaaand then it refused start.

A few tries and some patience eventually breathed life back into the machine, but that ride was cut short by good ol fashion Italian reliability (or whoever designed the alternator). Quickly we returned from once we came, and that concluded one of the most memorable two rides for a while.

I liked the Miura more of you were wondering.

Peace out peasants.