Here’s What It’s Like to Drive a 2001 Lamborghini Diablo in Italy
There are some things in life that aren’t to be turned down. Such as when Lamborghini sends an invitation to visit its factory and home in Sant’Agata Bolognese, as well as drive the last Diablo to roll off the production line. This 2001 Diablo VT 6.0 SE, powered by a 6.0-liter V-12, is one of the more striking cars in Lamborghini’s own haloed collection, and not just because of its eye-catching Oro Helios color scheme. It’s a time capsule returning one to the eve of technology transforming cars that were, up to that point, defined by displacement and cylinders.
The model, introduced in 1990, was designed by Marcello Gandini, who had penned the Countach and Miura before it. Yet the Diablo’s dramatic wedge shape, sharp lines, and flared rear looked like almost nothing else. It would have been unique were it not for the Cizeta-Moroder V16T. The story goes that when Chrysler took over Lamborghini in 1987, it wasn’t happy with Gandini’s initial design for the Diablo, choosing instead to entrust Detroit with rounding off the edges of its new flagship. When those designs didn’t work out, Chrysler returned to Gandini but, by that time, he had sold his original design to Cizeta, which released its V-16-engined supercar in 1991.
A new design for the Diablo was dreamt up by Gandini, who incorporated some of his original elements while slightly softening the rear and simplifying some of the lines. The result was spectacular. It wasn’t as groundbreaking as the Countach, but it had all the theatricality and presence expected of a Lamborghini, and it was everything a supercar should be.
The original Diablo had a revised version of the Countach’s V-12 engine, with an increased displacement from 5.2 liters to 5.7 liters, as well as an increase in output to 485 hp. The model also introduced a more prolific use of carbon-fiber-composite bodywork, a material showcased extensively in subsequent Lamborghini models, including its latest Revuelto.
By the time the VT 6.0 SE came out, the Diablo had been enhanced extensively. The engine had been bored out to a 6.0-liter displacement, while a new magnesium intake manifold helped boost muscle to about 542 hp. Being a VT (the moniker denoting the marque’s Viscous Traction configuration), the car features four-wheel drive, while extensive use of carbon fiber for the body helps keep weight modest at just shy of 3,700 pounds. This final-edition example also has carbon-fiber extras in the interior, as well as having the seats and dashboard both swathed in dark-brown leather. The adjustable suspension (numbered from 1 through 4 on the center console), offers a firmer or softer ride on demand. This version of the Diablo was among the fastest cars of its day, covering zero to 60 mph in 3.95 seconds and hitting a top speed of 205 mph.
Climbing into it on the grounds of Lamborghini’s Sant’Agata factory is an intimidating experience. The signature scissor doors are heavier than expected, and once you’re inside, the age of the car becomes apparent. There are buttons all over the carbon-fiber center console, and in place of a screen is a simple CD player. A grand total of seven dials are spread out across the dash, which sits strangely far away from the steering wheel. The wheel is gloriously simple, and is also doused in carbon fiber.
The seating position is a quirk of the car, similar to the Countach. The wheel is off-center to the right, as are the pedals, while the driver’s head is positioned right next to the window. We found visibility to be more than generous out of the front, and non-existent out of the back. A look in the side mirrors is a reminder of the infamous width of the car’s back end.
On the move, we found the Diablo to be surprisingly easy going. The pedals are heavy, but the clutch is easy to read and operate around town. At slower speeds, the steering feels cumbersome, requiring effort to wrench it around tight bends. In true Lambo fashion, the gearing is long, and you can hit 70 mph in first. But once up to speed, punching through them is part of what makes the Diablo so great. It’s the combination of that glorious V-12 and the notchy, agricultural gearbox that will linger in the minds of anyone who has driven one. It’s a dogleg first gear, meaning the transition from second to third is a swift and violent pull backwards. Like the steering, shifting requires a bit of muscle. When executed correctly, though, it results in a satisfying click-clack of the metal slotting into place.
The V-12 sings with a powerfully raw induction growl, which engulfs the entire cockpit. It’s as intoxicating as driving gets. When up to speed, we found any intimidation fade away, and once you get used to the steering, the Diablo inspires confidence. It does benefit from traction control, and it is four-wheel drive, so there is plenty of grip, but still, it’s not a car you push to the limit. Instead, we enjoyed it most by indulging in its drama, the satisfaction that comes from every gear change, and flooring it out of empty roundabouts.
The Miura was the original supercar, and the Countach an icon of design. But the Diablo, with its perfectly formed, cohesive looks, triumphant engine, and surprising usability, might be the greatest bygone Raging Bull of them all.
Click here for more photos of this 2001 Lamborghini Diablo VT 6.0 SE.