Viva Italia Concours, 2010
For a few years now, the amicable streets of Baltimore's waterfront have been opened each September to an arrangement of Italian exotica. We here at MuseoStradale appreciate the classics much more so than the latest and greatest toys of frivolity. Nevertheless, this particular show intersperses a few very interesting special interest cars. Because the scenery was so nice—and because we can't stuff every car into the museum collection—we have a glimpse of four interesting cars depicted in normal, untouched photographs. This may be a small sampling, but there are a few gems beside that we're saving for the main index; these include a gorgeous Bizzarrini 5300 GT Strada and the second of three Bizzarrini 5300 GT Stile Italia Spyders. That should be nice.
Lamborghini Countach 25th Anniversary Edition, 1989:
An intriguing car in most any context—from the design, the mechanicals, and even to the
name—the Countach is one greatly misunderstood automobile. The anniversary edition is, perhaps, the last Lamborghini car of historical note. Most people
wouldn't know, or would have forgotten, that the car was already in full flesh in the early 1970s as a direct descendant of the Miura. A ploy of radical
upsmanship, the design is Bertone's seminal achievement. There may be better, but none so well recognised. The wedge shape is purposeful, producing a low, fighter-pilot
aggression. However, the design is actually less aerodynamically efficient that the Miura it replaced, (although that wasn't the point, eh?) Beneath the wedge is the
firm's trusty four-valve V-12, a unit that dates all the way back to the founding of the company. This, too, is a point most people miss. For the faux futuristic
appearance of the car, not many people would guess that the motor hadn't been developed too far beyond its mid sixties roots. Moreover, the Countach was
decidedly conventional relative to the Miura, whose lateral motor configuration with a transaxle gearbox enclosed inside the same casing spelled doomsday
type problems for the first series of cars. The Countach didn't bother with that, going with longitudinal mounting henceforth. Of note, two weeks after this show,
a friend of mine sent me a photo he snapped from his phone while driving to work depicting a white Countach passing by on the highway. Turns out, the local Lambo
club was having an outing. When he got to work, there were about a dozen in the parking lot. He considered that a good day at the office.
De Tomaso Pantera, 1971:
Significant front end lift at 140 m.p.h., but otherwise the shape of the Pantera is a perfect expression of the 1970s sports car. These days, the tuner set has
taken far too many of these cars, and the number of tastefully modified examples is pretty thin. This aftermarket enthusiasm is a good thing in the sense that
the Pantera received a healthy dose of adoration at a time when Italian car snobs pushed it aside. Contrarily, today we're left with very few nice, clean examples. What
we have here is a very late pre-L car; in fact, it's as late as a pre-L Pantera can get. A month later, the wheelbase will be lengthened by 15mm, tire and wheel
specifications will change, the tail pipes will straighten out and, most notably, large black bumpers will appear in compliance with new U.S. safety regulations.
Of this beautiful example, our owner has everything worked out to near-stock preparation—a few new parts keep the motor bay clean without stepping beyond
the original specification—making this early Pantera a rare treat. I've always been a fan of De Tomaso cars, beginning with the Mangusta, of course. They present
a very satisfying concoction of provocative design and V-8 grumble, easily as fetching as a Ferrari, and in many respects an aesthetic equal to the wonderful
308 and 328 models. The formula for go is a bit different, but the feel of the interior, the linear theme of the lines, and period traits like the early alloy
wheels and the black vinyl trim make the Pantera a 308's close cousin. One could suggest that the Pantera was a strong influence on that great Fiat era Ferrari.
The total package—when original—is certainly good enough.
Fiat 850 Sport Spyder, 1973: Differences in export versions center on the motor, of course, carrying a capacity of 817 cc instead of the 49 horsepower 843 cc unit. At the very least, compression in the smaller U.S. spec motor was raised to compensate for the lack of oomf, which in turn required high octane fuel to run cleanly. In its native trim, the Spyder variant of Fiat's 850 series platform could manage about 90 miles per hour, making it a reliably spirited addition to the line. The U.S. version is good for only about 70 miles per hour, but owners report that fuel economy can be better than 30 miles per gallon. While I'm not certain of this, indications are that the Italian spec, larger capacity unit might have been more efficient than the smaller, high-compression motor made to comply with U.S. standards. The straight 4-cylinder is rear mounted and linked to a 4-speed synchromesh gearbox, and the motor itself is notable for running counter-clockwise. Of all things, the Bertone design stands out on this car, and without a proper hood the proportions work out quite well to make a lively shape, almost like a fashionable Amphicar. You don't see too many around—even in my travels this must be a first—so it was a fine treat.
Fiat 500-L, 1971: A popular Italian micra-classiche, the 500 is a development of the Topolino—Italy's VW Beetle, if you will—and served as a multi-purpose platform for many decades. This small series defined personal transport in post-War Italy, but like the Beetle takes its roots in pre-War design. The L model indicates a lusso treatment, adding a compliment of niceties not seen in previous iterations. In other words, this is among the most comfortable of the Fiat 500 range, and makes for wonderful counterpoint in a parade of superfast exotica.

