It's not often I get as giddy as a schoolgirl -- about an automobile, anyway. Indeed, one of the few downsides of this magnificent job -- if it is possible to claim that living one's lifelong dream can actually have a downside -- is that one does become a little jaded. Ferraris make a little less of a ripple in your karmic car world when you've just got out of an Audi R8 and will soon trade it in for a Corvette Z06.
Nonetheless, when Marek Reichman, Aston Martin's director of design, pulled the silk sheet off his latest creation, the nothing-short-of-orgasmic One-77 -- I couldn't stop from uttering an involuntary "wow." Normally, such a show of enthusiasm--especially involuntary -- would be mondo embarrassing in the company of an august gaggle of harrumphing autojournalists, each determined to remain sanguine about what was surely just another supercar from just another exotic auto-maker promising more otherworldly performance. Such juvenile expostulations are just not done, dear boy.
This time, however, I was not the only one. Everyone from aged Motor Trend major-domos to the exasperatingly fresh-faced editor from the outrageously manic 0-60 magazine reacted with the same weak-kneed gushing normally reserved for, say, Megan Fox, Hollywood's latest polysexual starlet, training her sultry megawatt smile on us less-than-worthy scribes. Of course, the lovely Natalie Neff, covering the event for AutoWeek, probably opted for a slightly different metaphor, but the thought remains the same -- there was candy in the room and the children hadn't eaten in weeks.
Pictures being worth a thousand words, I won't bore you with my description of what you can plainly see -- that the One-77 will almost assuredly be a classic one day, mentioned in the same breath as Ferrari GTOs and the Maserati Tipo 61 "Birdcage." What you can't grasp from pictures, and where my prose might actually come in handy, is the unrelenting attention to detail that will go into every custom-built One-77. The exhaust system, not just the headers, but everything from the engine block all the way to the chromed tips, is ceramic-coated for longevity and heat retention (more power from the engine, less heat to the body). Similarly, seemingly half the engine bay is coated in gold leaf -- yes, real gold -- ostensibly because the precious metal is an excellent heat reflector, but really because of Reichman's contention that there should not be a single "B-surface" (designer-speak for things you can't see from the outside) on the whole car. And there is so much more -- from the Cosworthblueprinted, 7.3-litre edition of Aston's iconic V12, slyly rated at "more than" 700 horsepower to the absolutely exquisite, Bugatti-like coolant overflow tank, that words simply won't suffice.
But the truly amazing thing about the One-77 is the construction of that achingly beautiful body. Though the One-77's chassis is a formed carbon fibre tub, the bodywork is actually completely hand-made aluminum panels glued to its tub. Aluminum was chosen instead of even more carbon fibre, says Reichman, so small fender benders can more easily be repaired.
But that's not the most impressive part. Gaze more intently upon the One-77 and you'll see that it is comprised of only three body panels (aside from moving parts such as the doors, trunk lid and hood). The roof and lower door sill, for instance, form part of the chassis' carbon fibre tub, while each of those incredibly complex front fenders is just one big piece of hand-pounded "aluminium." (Don't you just love how the Brits make aluminum sound exotic?) Meanwhile, the rear end is even more complex. What is normally two separate quarter panels and a rear fascia is one giant piece of aluminum welded, beaten and wheel-turned into a complex metal sculpture. And, yes, it will be extremely expensive to repair should a One-77 ever get rear-ended.
But the detail that truly captured everyone's attention were the side-view door mirrors. Look closely and it appears they have been extruded, like Mr. Fantastic of the Fantastic Four comics fame, from the door itself. Of course, that's not possible, but when Reichman wanted the mirror stalk to appear to be sucked out the door, Aston Martin's engineers had to come up with the quite ingenious idea of cutting an oval hole in the door, poking the mirror through from the inside, welding it up with the most delicate TIG bead from the outside and then hand-sanding it until the joint is completely indistinguishable. Totally unnecessary, but then one doesn't spend £1,050,000 (yes, nearly $2-million) on the merely pragmatic.
dbooth@nationalpost.com
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