Ferruccio Lamborghini was an atypical automaker in the world of supercars. The son of grape farmers in the Emilia-Romagna region of Italy, he began his industrial career with tractors. He later manufactured oil heaters and air conditioning equipment. It was not until 1963 that he formed Automobili Ferruccio Lamborghini SpA to build high-end sports cars. He had owned several Ferraris but felt that he could build a better high-performance car. Though building cars of power, comfort, and refinement, his business suffered uneven fortunes under a number of owners. Only since purchase by Audi AG in 1998 has it seen stability and increased sales.

The world met Lamborghini’s Countach at the 1971 Geneva Motor Show. Styled by Marcello Gandini of Carrozzeria G. Bertone, who had created the earlier Miura, it struck out in new dimensions. Constructed almost entirely of trapezoidal aluminum panels over a space frame, it was but 42 inches high and 163 inches long. The most outrageous feature was what are now called “Lambo doors,” hinged at the front with horizontal hinges, so that they swing upward in scissor fashion. Not simply for art, the doors are useful, in that they allow opening them in tight spaces.

Power comes from a mid-mounted V-12, four liters in the early versions, 5,167 cubic centimeters in the Quattrovalvole model offered here. Six Weber carburetors were used on European models, but when the Countach was certified for U.S. sale in 1985, Bosch K-Jetronic fuel injection was used instead. Bumpers were also conformed to U.S. safety standards.

This car is a European-specification model with metric instrumentation and the monumental optional rear spoiler. Equipped with air conditioning and power steering and brakes, it is white, with a matching leather interior accented in black. The odometer shows but 6,209 kilometers. An Alpine tri-band stereo audio system is the main cockpit amenity.

Car and Driver summed up the Countach quickly: “This is a bad boy’s car, and everybody knows it . . . . Just being seen at the wheel of such a thing is prima facie evidence that you’re a regular traveler beyond the borders of good judgment, good sense, and good taste . . . . You flash your Countach and everybody gets the message. You’ve got the speed of a telegram at a zillion times the price.” And we haven’t even mentioned performance . . . .