Ferraris Invade The Big Easy

In my younger days, I shamelessly visited New Orleans for the company of scantily-clad women and inebriating concoctions. After all, nothing beats watching an eighteen year-old Ronda Rousey look-a-like wrestle middle-aged men for money at 3 a.m. on Bourbon Street. More recently, trips to New Orleans have been considerably tamer, and included taking my wife and daughter to the Audubon Aquarium or to see 1 Direction at the Superdome.

 

However, this time I wasn’t in the Crescent City for any of the above mentioned items. Unbelievably, post-Katrina Louisiana actually beat out every other U.S. city for the honor of hosting Ferrari’s Corse Clienti XX Programmes. That’s right, Cajun Country implausibly joins the list of other such exotic locations as Shanghai and Budapest that the teams have visited. To put that in perspective, it’s like organizing a meeting of esteemed world leaders and then inviting Larry the Cable Guy.

 

Despite that, the main attraction in Louisiana's economic rebirth is NOLA Motorsports Park, a 750-acre, $60 million race track built in Avondale. Amazingly, the project was entirely self-funded by Laney Chouest and his brother Gary. Laney is a retired doctor and Gary had recently been a minority shareholder in the New Orleans Pelicans basketball team. Together, they own a lucrative offshore supply company and originally imagined the track as a destination for the city’s affluent automotive enthusiasts. Conversely, a unique challenge early on in the development arose when they realized the track would be constructed on gooey marshland. The site, a former cypress swamp, had to be considerably strengthened if they didn’t want it to crumble like than California in San Andreas. The unlikely answer came in the form of Fly ash, a residue from coal burning factories. It was discovered that when mixed with the surrounding clay, it formed a cement-like foundation that was ideal for supporting a race track. I suppose we should all be grateful that Tom Benson had no involvement or else it might have been called “Mercedes-Benz Motorsports Park”. 

 

Alan Wilson, whose other projects include Barber Motorsports Park (which I visited last year) was commissioned to design the track. Presently, the North section of the track is open and is comprised of 2.75 miles and 16 turns. On the drawing board is a separate South section of track which will be 2.69 Miles with 11 turns. When linked together they will form a five-mile course, making it the longest race track in North America. Throughout the weekend, we saw bulldozers and dump trucks steadily working on the new addition.

 

To begin seeing a return on his investment, Chouest initially pushed a membership model that was $9,000 annually or lifetime for $50,000. Burt Benrud, the Vice President of Café du Monde, was reportedly one of the first in line to buy a lifetime membership. So far, he and roughly forty other well-heeled families have signed up. However, the “Pay As You Play” program has proven to be a lot more attractive to the majority of customers. For $20, drivers can enjoy a 10-minute session on the karting track or move up to open track days. During those, it’s $225 for a motorcycle or $325 for a car, and that includes six 20-minute sessions.   

 

AVONDALE

Avondale is geographically only twelve miles south of New Orleans, but it’s a world away in terms of the environment. Sandwiched between the Mississippi River above and Lake Cataouatche below, Avondale is largely deserted since Northrup Grumman closed their shipbuilding division there in 2013 eliminating 5,000 local jobs. Unlike its privileged neighbor to the north, there is no Macy’s, James Beard Award-winning cuisine, or fancy French architecture. Nearly 20% of the 4,900 people living in Avondale are below poverty level and 15% of the populace is designated as a female householder with no husband present. It’s a sobering juxtaposition to the phalanx of Ferrari owners flying in on private jets with their $3 million dollar cars in tow.

 

As expected, there are only two hotels in Avondale: a Candlewood Suites and a Suburban Extended Stay. It was a toss-up, like deciding between West Nile Virus or Lyme Disease, both of which I thought I might potentially contract from staying there. Eventually, my daughter decided for me by picking the Suburban Extended Stay. Using her ten year-old logic, she admitted it wasn’t as nice as the Candlewood Suites, but it did possess an outdoor pool. That notwithstanding, my fondest hope was that we wouldn’t find a dead raccoon floating in it. Still, I didn’t feel too sorry for either hotel as both had apparently gotten wind of the Ferrari event and had doubled their rates for that weekend from $75 per night to $150.

 

The hotel stay was not only worse than I could have possibly imagined, it was also educational. It introduced a new item to my vocabulary called a “Scrusher” and no, that’s not a slang term for the unsavory occupants. Mounted liberally at each entrance, these looked like big shoe polishing devices but in essence were there to remove excessive dirt and mud from guests’ boots. They were accompanied by a water hose that encouraged patrons to “rinse off” before entering. Clearly, if your clientele is that filthy, there’s a bigger issue present. This “experience” extended well into the wee hours of the morning when I was awakened by the most foul chemical smell I can ever recall. It seemed to be emanating from the noisy room next door and I was convinced I’d become an unwilling participant in a real-life episode of “Breaking Bad”. Whether they were actually cooking meth or not was never proven, and honestly I was too tired to do anything about it and fell back asleep. The next morning, Amanda and I agreed that this was the worst hotel we had ever stayed in, eclipsing even that awful one in Houston that was built beside a railroad track.  

 

The urban scenery also left a lot to be desired. Our hotel was bookended between the C&D Landfill and a Baskin-Robbins, not necessarily an appetizing combination. Behind us, stood the patriotically named Henry Ford Middle School. A nod to Avondale’s blue-collar roots, its tan and orange veneer looked unchanged since the 1980s and was an immediate time-warp back to my grade school days. The only positive to come out of staying in Avondale was the close proximity to the track. Otherwise, with traffic, we found it’s about a twenty minute drive to reach New Orleans. That notwithstanding, I vowed never to remain overnight in Avondale again.     

 

LAFERRARI

Introduced at the 2013 Geneva Auto Show, the Ferrari LaFerrari is not only the most ridiculously named Ferrari ever, but also their first hybrid supercar. In development, it went by the internal designation F150, but Ford reportedly balked at Ferrari using that name since they claimed it interfered with their eponymous truck line. I highly doubt anyone would ever confuse the two, but that’s Ford logic for you. Regardless, the LaFerrari utilizes a 789 hp V-12 mated with a 161 hp electric motor for a combined output of 950 hp. Tested by Car and Driver magazine, it was the quickest production car they have ever measured, bolting to 60 mph in just 2.5 seconds and blitzing the quarter-mile in 9.8 seconds at 150 mph. It costs a cool $1.5 million and only 499 are being made.

 

So what do you buy when that’s not fast enough or exclusive enough for you? I’m glad you asked, because that’s what I went to New Orleans to find out.

 

XX PROGRAMME

Ferrari’s XX Programme was started in 2006, when the Italian automaker shrewdly realized that its richest customers would pay exorbitant amounts to drive what are basically development test beds. The XX nomenclature reflected a unique model outside the regular line of production. The first vehicle designed under these auspices was the FXX, the racing version of the Ferrari Enzo. Whereas the “regular” Enzo had 660 hp, the FXX was tuned to produce 800 hp. It was followed two years later by the FXX Evoluzione, an improved version with even more horsepower--- 860 to be exact. In 2009, Ferrari announced the 599XX. Continuing the established formula, it was lighter and faster that its street-legal counterpart, the 599 GTB. In 2012, it was succeeded by the 599XX Evoluzione. The newest XX model to join the stable is the Ferrari FXXK. Only 39 exist worldwide and with a $3 million price tag they’re all sold out. After clamping their eyes on one, some have opined that the name is a perfect censored expression of the shock and awe experienced when seeing it. Whether that’s true or not, is open to debate. Instead, the “K” more realistically denotes the inclusion of KERS, the Kinetic Energy Recovery System employed by the hybrid powertrain. The LaFerrari’s 6.3-liter V-12, already the most powerful production twelve-cylinder in the world, has been modified to squeeze an additional 71 horsepower from it. Helping to achieve such a stratospheric output are new camshafts, higher-flowing intake, and a switch to mechanical rather than hydraulic tappets. The electric motor has been overclocked too, spitting out 190 hybrid horses. This creates a grand total of 1050 horsepower and is roughly the same power output as seven Toyota Priuses. Ferrari also generously throws in a 3,000-mile warranty (or what they estimate amounts to two seasons of racing).           

 

CORSE CLIENTI

Greece is bankrupt, China is in political upheaval and there is a war in Syria, but there’s no shortage of Ferrari’s Corse Clienti (loosely interpreted as “Racing Clients”). They’re an international group of ultra-wealthy owners who drive these XX models throughout the year at eight different  tracks all over the world. Amazingly, the $3 million dollar purchase price only includes the car and there is no money or trophy for the races. The race weekends are all a la carte and cost $50,000 apiece. Incredibly, Ferrari also stores and maintains the cars in Italy during the off-season so the only time the owners get to play with their pricey possessions is when they’re rolled out for the races. One British journalist succinctly observed, “A day of petting your pony, sir? That’ll be $50,000.” Admittedly, on paper it sounds ludicrous: Charge a customer $3 million for a car that can only be driven on a race track. Let them have access to it for just eight races over the course of the year. Finally, bill them $50,000 for the privilege of using their car at each race. Despite how fundamentally (and financially) flawed it sounds, there’s a waiting list of insanely rich and powerful men willing to do just that. The House of Ferrari may have just surpassed P.T. Barnum when discussing customer gullibility.    

 

The 599XX Evoluzione is particularly special as a one-off version of it was produced in 2014 to benefit the Emilia earthquake victims. The 6.1 magnitude quake was the worst to strike the Northern Italy region in centuries and Ferrari quickly organized the charity auction of the car. Surprisingly, the winning bid of $1.6 million came not from Europe or Japan, but from San Francisco Google executive Ben Sloss. Sloss, who goes by “Treynor” on the Ferrari forums, was thereafter invited to buy a LaFerrari and accepted. Alongside the LaFerrari, he also purchased a $1.3 million McLaren P1. The P1 is a hybrid like the LaFerrari, making 903hp from a twin-turbo V-8 and an electric motor. But unlike some collectors, Sloss isn’t afraid to drive his cars and he’s proved it by letting both Motor Trend and Cycle World test his McLaren P1. Recently, he added his latest Italian acquisition, a FXXK. And like many racers, Sloss has a preference for a particular color and it’s yellow. His LaFerrari is Giallo Tristrato (Triple-Layer Yellow) and his 599XX and FXXK are both Modena Yellow, the color of Ferrari’s birthplace. With those five cars, he now has a car payment bigger than the Gross National Product of Nicaragua.      

 

The other high-profile Ferrari owner in New Orleans is Peter Mann. His forum nickname is “ChalStrad” a shortened version of Challenge Stradale which was a Ferrari model and is generally translated as “Lightweight Racing”. Mann is an American expatriate living in Switzerland and is rightfully proud of being the Ferrari Club of France President. Like Sloss, he’s one of the most friendly and enthusiastic owners you’ll ever come across. Appropriately enough, the color for his LaFerrari and FXXK is Tour de France Blue. I inquire if he has any regrets about his $3 million purchase. With a wry smile, he responds that he fears when he dies his wife will sell it for what he told her he paid for it, not what it actually cost. Also, don’t ask him what he thinks of convicted-cheater Lance Armstrong or he might swat you over the head with a crusty loaf of french bread.    

 

NOLA MOTORSPORTS PARK

Back in July, I first stumbled upon details of the NOLA raced buried deep in a 53-page FXXK thread on the Ferrari forums. It was an off-handed remark about a “Corse Clienti event in New Orleans after Spa and before the Finali Mondiali”. Unable to believe that the Ferrari roadshow would be so close, I furiously looked up the Corse Clienti calendar and confirmed it. However, it wasn’t even listed on the NOLA Raceway website, so I reached out to Scott Foremaster at Track Operations. He confirmed that the event would be held there, but stated that Ferrari had released no information regarding it and asked how I knew about it. Although it wasn’t intentional, this lack of information persisted until fully a week before the actual race. In fact, it was a mere three days until the Friday kickoff before a finalized schedule was available.

 

Although Scott had assured me that General Admission was free and open to the public, I opted for Ferrari’s $350 Hospitality Pass. It provided access to the on-track private Ferrari Suite, entry and a guided tour of the Challenge Paddock, catered lunch with an open bar, Ferrari memorabilia items and, as it turned out, a very special test drive. Additionally, there was a VIP Cocktail Party Saturday night at Oak Alley Plantation between Baton Rouge and New Orleans. Regrettably, I had to decline it as I’d already made dinner reservations at Commander’s Palace.   

 

The weather forecast for the first weekend in October was absolutely perfect, with a high of 80 and sunny, so we packed shorts and t-shirts. Predictably, what we got was a high of 60 and cloudy. Had it not been for the pre-admission email which stipulated “All guests wishing to participate in the Pit Tours, and hot-laps must wear closed toed shoes and pants” I wouldn’t have had any jeans to wear. Even at that, everyone was cold: My daughter had a thin Old Navy hoodie and the female Ferrari models shivered in their leather mini-skirts. Possibly the only ones not freezing were the actual drivers like Sloss and Mann. They were clad from head-to-toe like astronauts in their thick, flame-retardant jumpsuits. Before getting into their respective FXXKs, I watched them pull the balaclavas over the head so that only their face was exposed and then drop the helmet on over that. Once that was done, an assistant would attach the HANS device to help protect their head and neck, and then they would clumsily clamber into the cockpit. The final step required after the driver was situated was to have another assistant connect the microphone line to their helmets so they could communicate back and forth. I can’t imagine they had much more room or freedom of movement than if they were in an Apollo II lunar module. During sweltering summer events like Shanghai, it must have been a carbon-fiber pressure cooker in there. I also couldn’t help but be amused that of these $3 million machines, many where using cheap strips of generic mattress foam to pad the deep racing seats. Apparently, the FXXK is long on speed but terribly short on comfort.

 

Unfortunately, the turn out for the event was rather poor, with just four FXXKs in attendance and two 599XXs. Similarly in short supply were any Ferraris bathed in Rosso Corsa, the company’s famed crimson color. Usually far and away the most popular hue, it had been upstaged by blue and yellow paint selections. And despite being free to the general populace, the majority seemed largely mystified by the Italian exotics and avoided it like a Ben Carson rally. But, spicing things up Robert “Bud” Moeller brought Reubens Barrichello’s Ferrari Formula One car which had won at both Silverstone, England and Suzuka, Japan in 2003. On Saturday, former F1 driver Marc Gene took the car out to see if he could set a new lap record. He succeeded by recording a 1:15.9 and shattering Tony Kanaan’s existing record by 2.9 seconds. This means the 12 year-old Ferrari was faster than the new Indy cars that had raced there in April.

 

Alas, after visiting tracks like Laguna Seca, Road Atlanta, and Barber Motorsports Park, NOLA Raceway was a bit of a disappointment. Not only are the grounds bleak with no trees or vegetation, but the flat layout is also uninspiring. Peter Mann criticized the circuit as having a “dangerously bumpy” front straight and stated the track felt “devoid of emotions”. That notwithstanding, he said he was hitting 175 mph before having to brake early for the first turn. However, If something happened at that speed, I’m not sure a HANS device would make much difference. 

 

Meanwhile, my wife and daughter were amusing themselves with the various activities and owners present. Victoria made countless laps of a mini race course in a tiny Ferrari you have to peddle, and Amanda struck up an unlikely conversation with one of the wealthy wives. The woman was holding a small Viennese breed of dog and Amanda asked how she liked it. Without any pretense, the woman explained how their petite dog was great for young children such as our daughter, but a handful on their yacht in Florida. She explained that they had to have a Lilliputian life-preserver made for it since it had a tendency to dive overboard and couldn’t swim. She followed this proclamation by putting the dog down and feeding it Evian water from a sterling silver bowl. Although I joke about our pets eating better than us, this was a real life case of it. Apart from that, Amanda raved about how friendly and down-to-earth all the Ferrari owners were. I concurred that they were remarkably just like us, albeit with a lot more zeros in their bank account.         

 

The buffet lunch was served on the second-floor of the Ferrari VIP suite and it overlooked the track. There were all kinds of luxurious selections, but I settled on baked grouper and roasted potatoes, among other things. As I ate, I reminded myself how fortunate I was to dine to the serenade of 1000 horsepower Ferraris racing below. There were definitely worse ways to spend a weekend.  

 

FERRARI CALIFORNIA T 

Unbelievably, the last official Ferrari event I attended was in October 1995 at Roebling Road Raceway in Savannah, Georgia. Sure, I’ve seen Ferraris at other occasions, but I primarily gave them up for nobler aspirations like getting married, settling down, and starting a family. With my Mom’s passing in January, I realized that life is too short and that I needed to do more things that bring me joy. Now, this wasn’t any sort of existential mid-life crisis or anything, but merely a conscious effort to realistically pursue what I’m passionate about.

 

So when I was offered a test drive of the new 2015 California I certainly didn’t turn it down. After all, this is not only the first brand new Ferrari I’ve ever driven, but also the most powerful and expensive.

 

Put bluntly, the California is Ferrari’s “budget” model, if that’s an appropriate term for a car that costs a quarter of a million dollars. However, after a brief (but fast) test drive, I still found their least-exciting model to be wilder than Fat Tuesday in the French Quarter.

 

Allow me to explain.

 

The original California was targeted solely at prosperous West Coast residents who could enjoy a convertible year round thanks to the temperate climate. It was based on the highly-successful 250 GTO race car and a total of 50 were built between 1958-1960. Next to Magnum P.I.’s 308 and Miami Vice’s Testarossa, the 250 GT California is the most famous Hollywood Ferrari thanks to its inclusion in Ferris Bueller’s Day Off. Had you bought one when the movie premiered in 1986, it would have cost roughly what the new one goes for today. However, it would have been a real blue-chip investment as one sold last year at auction for $8.8 million. That sum would not only allow you to join the Corse Clienti with an FXXK purchase, but would also leave enough left over to buy every current Ferrari available. 

 

I first saw the California in 2013 at Caffeine and Octane in Atlanta and I’ll admit to being underwhelmed. Typically, it’s not what most people (myself included) envision a Ferrari to be and persistent rumors are that it was originally intended for Maserati until cost overruns forced it to wear a Prancing Horse badge instead. Indeed, it seemed like a combination of features that a Fiat focus group couldn’t agree on. It was the first Ferrari to have a front-engine V8, but it had four seats. It was blessed with a sophisticated multi-link rear suspension, but cursed with a folding metal roof. Surely, if a Ferrari ever had an identity crisis, this was it.

    

Regardless, the California was a money-maker for Maranello with it selling 10,000 units since going on sale in 2010. Granted, 10,000 cars is not a lot when Toyota sells that many Camry’s in a week, but consider that Ferrari only builds 7,500 cars a year and it’s quite significant.

 

So with such strong sales, Ferrari decided to re-invest in the California by giving it a complete sheet-metal makeover and turbo power. It now more closely resembles its larger F12 brethren and has more muscle to match. The byproduct of over 100 hours of wind-tunnel development, it is also the most aerodynamic model next to the F12.

 

Pop the hood, and you’re greeted by the first turbocharged Ferrari since the legendary 1987 F40. The engine bay looks like a Sci-Fi Channel cross between a mutant snake and shark. Huge plastic gills vent heat while menacing black tubes the length and width of anacondas feed cool air to the turbos. Four years in development, the all-new twin-turbo 3.9 liter V-8 replaces the older naturally-aspirated 4.3 liter V-8 and despite the drop in size, gains 101 hp and 199 lb-ft of torque.

 

My chaperone for the test drive was Scott, an associate of Ferrari North America who eerily resembled my friend Joe Driver. He volunteered that he usually works out of the headquarters in New Jersey, but an event of this magnitude requires all resources. Agreed, from the pit lane mechanics who only spoke Italian, to the Asian fellow from Santa Monica who scheduled my test drive, Ferrari is clearly a global brand and employer. 

 

Twenty years ago, I test drove a 1995 F355 GTS at Roebling Road. It was Ferrari’s entry-level model and possessed a 3.5-liter V8 that made 380 hp. At that time, the Italian automaker had also just unveiled their newest flagship car, the F50. It was a convertible that cost $560,000 and had a 513 hp V-12.

 

Fast-forward to 2015 and the California T convertible I’m about to drive makes 560 hp and an equal amount of torque.    

 

That’s right, Ferrari’s cheapest and slowest new car now makes more power and is faster than their F50 supercar!

 

Is technology great or what?!?

 

“So have you ever driven anything like this before?” Scott inquired, perhaps wanting to ensure he’d get back to the Garden State in one piece. I assuaged his apprehension by stating that I had indeed driven a lot of high performance cars. But on the inside, I was more hyper than a kid on Christmas morning. A Ferrari test drive is a lot like a first date with a supermodel. There is only one rule and that is to be cool. Doing backflips in the parking lot with excitement is frowned upon, and can lead to you being judged unworthy, if you appear too eager. So with my best poker face, I pretended it hadn’t been two decades since I’d driven one. And with that revelation behind us, Scott handed me the red-fobbed key and I proceeded to open the driver door.

 

Once inside, the cabin is snug but not claustrophobic, and the prevailing theme is more black leather than you’d find on a dominatrix. Certainly, the onyx cow-hides were nice, but I made a mental note that it certainly wasn’t $220,000 better than the interior appointments in my wife’s 2015 Santa Fe Turbo. Truthfully, I was shocked that there wasn’t any carbon-fiber. The first item Scott brought up was the MagneRide suspension (a $5500 option) which was created by Delphi and originally used on the Cadillac Seville STS. These Magnetorheological shocks are able to infinitely adjust to changing road conditions giving maximum grip and damping. Scott said there are several settings offered, but he prefers the one called “Bumpy Road”. He enables it with a button on the steering wheel and a small icon of a shock absorber briefly glows on the dash. He elaborates that it’s the best compromise between a smooth ride and flat cornering.

 

Next, he points out that thanks to the paddle shifters everything is controlled from the steering wheel. Ferrari wisely realized that stalk-mounted turn signals or windshield wipers might interfere with upshifts and downshifts. Still, it feels quite alien to press a square button on the steering wheel to activate the turn signal.

 

Nestled below the windshield wiper button on the scarlet-stitched steering wheel is perhaps the most important switch of them all. The Manettino (Italian for little lever) is a small red knob that lets the driver toggle between driving assists. The mildest variable is denoted by green and is called “Comfort”. Ferrari reckons this is the setting used most and helps ensure that Beverly Hills housewives have a drama-free trip to the Country Club. Next up is “Sport” which is indicated with white. It’s the program I use and allows maximum power delivery and acceleration while still maintaining traction. The final setting is cautiously marked in red and is labeled “ESC OFF”. This turns off the Electronic Stability Control, and all safety features, and is usually the sole explanation as to how some rich idiot landed his California T in a swimming pool.

 

Scott than enthusiastically turns on the “Infotainment System” which covers the front dash. He brags that the California is the first Ferrari to be equipped with “Apple Play” but all I can think is that it cements the Cupertino company’s plans for world domination. Not interested, I remark that I remember when Ferraris didn’t even come with radios and distract him by asking “Is that the Boost Gauge?” Stacked on the top of the anodized silver dash and flanked by two air vents is a circular LED that looks remarkably similar to the Aeroforce Interceptor in my Red Line. It has three modes and scrolling through them reveals “Turbo Efficiency”, “Turbo Response” and simply “Turbo” with a meter reading from 0-20 PSI. Apparently, the first two statistics are pretty academic, so Scott divulges that he likes to keep it on the boost readout. I’ll later learn that it will only serve as informative to him, since once the twin-turbos starting blowing like Hurricane Katrina, I won’t have a spare millisecond to monitor them.

 

Situated between the two seats is a small bifurcated button with a graphic of a convertible roof on the top and “OPEN” on the bottom. I pull the button back and both windows automatically roll down. Then the aluminum shell above our heads takes on a life of its own as the metal bars begin moving and the roof starts mechanically collapsing. It’s like witnessing a real-life Transformer as the hardtop miraculously folds down and disappears into the trunk. The whole process takes just 14 seconds and then the side windows spring back up.

 

I get ready to thumb the big red “ENGINE START” button on the steering wheel and then Scott intervenes, telling me that I actually have to insert the Smart Key and turn it on before I can start it. This is rather puzzling since my wife’s humble Hyundai doesn’t require a key, but he confesses they’re rectifying that for the 2016 model. However, once it does start I’m pleasantly surprised at the sonorous exhaust note, which sounds more like a deep, domestic V-8 than a high-revving Italian job.

 

In front of me, the large yellow tachometer commands my attention and is punctuated by a 7500 rpm redline. To the right is the speedometer, and to the left are the other vital gauges such as water temperature and oil pressure. I briefly spot the odometer and see this example has covered just 4500 kilometers. Doing the math, it’s barely broken-in at 2800 miles.

 

I put my foot on the shiny cross-drilled brake pedal and pull the thin, right paddle shifter back toward me. On the instrument cluster readout, the transmission gear shifts from a “P” to a “1” and I tentatively press the accelerator, not knowing how the California will react. Thankfully, the throttle requires some heft, so it’s easy to modulate. Initially, I leave it in auto mode so I can concentrate on the power and feedback.

 

The gate guards snap to attention when they see the Ferrari approaching and immediately wave us through like foreign dignitaries.

 

One of my primary gripes about new cars is the ever-escalating weight and the California T is no different, tipping the scales at nearly 4100 lbs. (although it’s 59 lbs. lighter than the previous model). Despite that, I was never aware of the extra mass and the Ferrari felt supremely stable and sure-footed. A lot of the credit for that goes to a nearly perfect 50/50 weight distribution, particularly impressive given the front-engine layout. In fact, what was so extraordinary about it was that it felt so civilized. That is, I was able to stroll along at 60 mph with the top down and carry on a polite conversation as if I was in a Nissan, not a 560 hp exotic. In years past, concessions had to be made if you wanted to drive a Ferrari. They were loud, they were hot, and most of all they were cramped.

 

We turn onto a four-lane highway and Scott urges me to open it up, so I oblige. From a 20 mph roll, I floor the accelerator and the California explodes forward in a frenzied burst of speed. This definitely was not like the Ferraris of yore I’d experienced such as the F355 which required wringing-out to 8000 rpm or the F40 that had so much turbo-lag it could be measured with a sun-dial. No, this thing took off instantly like the Millennium Falcon streaking to hyperspace. The turbos muffle the customary Ferrari shriek, and it’s replaced by the faint whistle of the waste gates as I lift off the gas.

 

In their May issue, Car and Driver timed the California T’s 0-60 sprint in just 3.3 seconds and I believe it. It does other things a convertible has no business doing either such as braking from 70 mph to zero in a scant 162 feet or circling a skid pad at 0.95 g. And since this is the Ferrari most likely to see daily driver duty, it was equipped with All-Season Pirelli P Zeros measuring 245/30-20 on the front and 285/30-20 on the back. Had it been equipped with more aggressive rubber like Pirelli’s Trofeo R, it would have improved on those numbers even more.

 

I slow for an upcoming red light and the carbon-ceramic brakes grip like an F-16 arrestor hook. Naturally, the California is the first car I’ve driven with Formula One-derived stopping power, and it takes some getting used to. Scott notices the shock on my face and proudly proclaims that the alloy discs are good for the life of the car. Here is the perfect ammunition for persuading reluctant wives to see the value in the California: “Honey, I know it’s $250,000 but think how much money we’ll save never having to buy new brakes!”

 

We turn around and head back towards the track and he insists I try the paddle shifters. I agree and he pushes a circular button designated “AUTO” that reverts back to manual transmission control. I see that I’m presently in fourth gear out of the seven available, so I tap the thin left paddle and feel the engine drop to third gear. I surmise this is a good rpm for a quick acceleration run and flat-foot the throttle. Suddenly, it’s as if I’ve angered the God of Horsepower. I’m riding an exponentially increasing wave of power as the California surges to its 7500 rpm redline and I quickly blip the paddle for fourth gear. With the twin-turbos on full-boil, the California T yields a veritable tsunami of torque that I feel might metaphorically sweep me away. I’ve driven a lot of quick cars, but this Ferrari is clearly the fastest. As an illustration, it accelerates from the 60 mph I’m travelling to 100 mph in just 3.8 seconds. That’s barely enough time to process the rapidly blurring surroundings and grab the next gear! If you have the room, the California T will trip the quarter-mile lights in 11.3 seconds at 128 mph and run on up to 170 mph in just 22 seconds. Flat out, Ferrari claims it will do 196 mph, which is plenty fast in a vehicle without a roof.

 

Unfortunately, fear of the Louisiana highway patrol makes me abort the orgasmic flood of speed at 120 mph, a tragic case of accelerationus interruptus. I lament to Scott that I’d enjoy the opportunity to operate the California T on a racetrack whereby I could fully exploit its power and speed without worrying about going to jail. It is so choice. If you have the means, I highly recommend picking one up.

 

As we tootle back into NOLA Raceway, a new set of gate guards are on duty and they apparently take their minimum-wage job very seriously. The off-duty mall cops stop us and ask about our parking pass though it should be obvious that in a Ferrari, at a Ferrari event, we don’t need one. Scott and I try to reason with them, with me even pointing to the fact that we have a New Jersey “Manufacturer” plate on the car. Eventually, it registers and they motion us through, but not before I spot a familiar light blue Honda Accord pulling in behind us. I had seen it earlier at the traffic light before we turned and I ran the Ferrari up to triple-digit velocity. Cognizant of cops, I watched it in my rear view mirror weaving in and out of traffic and passing other cars, but didn’t think anything about it since it was so far back. Now, it strikes me as hilarious that the husband (no doubt doing his best Michael Schumacher impression) was inspired to feebly attempt to keep up with the Ferrari as the wife screamed at him to slow down and the kids cried in the backseat.

 

I park the California between two new 488 GTBs (a yellow one and a black one) and Scott starts the sales pitch, promoting Ferrari’s new seven-year free maintenance schedule. He then segues into an explanation of their Ferrari Financial Services (FFS) division which offers a myriad range of purchasing options from traditional payments to leasing. Believe it or not, they even have a line of credit based on the value of a single Ferrari or collection of Ferraris, with equity amounts starting at $500,000. Although I have no intention of buying one, it’s a sign that Ferrari is evolving with the times and is open to other streams of revenue.

 

All in all, it was a fantastic weekend with great Ferraris, food, and fun. And this time I’m not going to wait another 20 years before doing it again.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Seoul Mate

My wife has been driving for over twenty years and has never owned an import. Unfortunately, the last nine years with a Ford has changed all that. If you read my 100,000-mile report of our Freestyle in January 2014, than you’ll know what a roller-coaster ride it has been. In 2011, Ford stuck us with a $4000 CVT repair bill when it broke down at just 58,000 miles. Given that we bought it new, and had every recommended service performed at the dealership, I felt that Ford should have covered the repair for us, but they didn’t. And last summer, the new Motorcraft battery we bought died suddenly leaving her and my daughter stranded in the sweltering August heat. Add to that other problems such as a faulty fuel pump sending unit, a leaking valve cover gasket, broken engine mount, and quickly deteriorating air conditioner and it made no sense to fix them and prolong the agony. After all, the cost would exceed the value of the Freestyle thanks to the worst vehicle depreciation I’ve ever seen: That’s right, our 2006 Freestyle’s value has dropped  more than 90% from the new MSRP of $27,000 to now around $2500. So, last fall I made a deal with her to keep the Freestyle through the cooler winter months and then we’d trade it in before the weather got hot in the Spring.

After months of research and the best standard warranty available (60 months/60,000 miles bumper-to-bumper and 120 months/100,000 miles powertrain) we decided on a Hyundai. Based in Seoul, South Korea, Hyundai entered the U.S. Market in 1986 with one model, the Excel. And in that time they’ve turned a big corner in much the same way Honda and Toyota have. Last year, Hyundai placed fourth overall in the 2014 U.S. Initial Quality Study from J.D. Power, and was the highest-ranked non-premium nameplate, up six spots from 2013. And as a testament to improved reliability and striking designs, they’ve seen sales rise 75 percent since 2008. 

Because we had decided on Hyundai, we took a closer look at their Santa Fe crossover which we’ve admired since it debuted in 2001. Initially, we were elated with the Freestyle’s seven-seat capacity. That is, until my wife’s two sisters and their kids began panhandling for rides everywhere. Hauling around a bunch of freeloaders quickly became tiresome and left us wishing we didn’t have a third row. For that reason, we decided on the Santa Fe Sport, which is the five-seat version and eschews the third-row for more cargo space. Equally important was the 2.4-liter four-cylinder, which at 190 hp, was within 10 horsepower of the Freestyle’s 3.0-liter V6, but much less thirsty. We also liked that the Santa Fe was manufactured locally in West Point, Georgia, which is even closer than the Springhill facility my Saturn came from in Tennessee.

In early January, we stopped by Palmer’s Hyundai in Mobile to check out their inventory and take a test drive so Amanda could make sure it was what she wanted. However, it turned out that every Hyundai on the lot had a dealer-applied markup shown as “AMV” which varied anywhere from $1500-$2000. This “Adjusted Market Value” was nothing more than a surreptitious rip-off disguised as a legitimate charge. We left as soon as I saw that, although in hindsight I suppose I should thank them for being upfront about their dishonesty-- it certainly saved me a lot of time.  And much to my surprise, a cursory glance on the Hyundai Forums turned up that the “AMV” gouge is actually quite common among unscrupulous dealers.

Unfortunately, these deceptive tactics made the prospect of visiting new Hyundai showrooms even more undesirable.  So with an aversion usually reserved for trips to the dentist, we avoided any more car shopping until we couldn’t put it off any longer.

On February 3rd, we had to make a trip to Gulfport so I confidently told her that between Gautier and Hattiesburg there were three Hyundai dealers we could choose from. Since it was closest, we happened to end up at Allen Hyundai in Gulfport. Amanda was dead-set on getting a white vehicle, so we test drove the only white Santa Fe 2.4 that they had on the lot.  Regrettably, it was a dealership loaner that customers frequently used when their cars were being serviced. Our salesman downplayed the 7,000 miles on the odometer by advocating how much cheaper we would be able to purchase it for instead of a brand new one. Despite that, the “extensively-used” interior (i.e. carpet stains, evidence of kids punching and/or kicking the back of the seats, etc.) convinced us that we didn’t want it no matter how appealing the discount.

As fate would have it, there was also a white Turbo model on the lot, although I wasn’t too thrilled with the price on it. Whereas the 2.4 model was pretty attractive at $24,950, the Turbo model was $32,995.     

If their sales tactic was selling us an upscale model by first showing us how undesirable the demo model was, it certainly worked. The Turbo was brand new, with plastic still on the floor mats, and showed just 4 delivery miles on the odometer. The entire cabin was steeped in the fragrance of the leather upholstery and it mingled with the new car scent to create a woozy, intoxicating aroma. Perhaps the science of selling luxury items via aromatic scents is not so far-fetched after all? I didn’t have much time to ponder that as we pulled onto the highway and our salesman stabbed the gas to demonstrate the difference a twin-scroll turbocharger makes.

After we turned down a residential side street, it was easier to focus on the upscale appointments present in the Turbo model. For starters, my wife remarked immediately about how much better the leather-wrapped steering wheel felt compared to the regular plastic one. And the Turbo’s massive 235/60-18 wheels notwithstanding, it soaked up bumps as favorably as the smaller 17-inch tires on the 2.4 model. We also noticed that a lot of the optional features we wanted on the 2.4 were standard on the Turbo. My daughter’s primary complaints about the Freestyle centered on floor-mounted vents she couldn’t feel and the sun shining in her face. These problems were instantly solved with the second-row vents near the headrests and retractable rear-window sunshades.

Back at the dealership, I did the math and discovered that to outfit an entry-level 2.4 with all the standard amenities we wanted from the Turbo model (Leather upholstery, 4.3-inch Color touchscreen, Rearview Camera, etc.) would raise the price to $29,600. Now, arithmetic has never been my strong suit, but it seemed crazy to pay almost $30K for a loaded 2.4 model when I could spend a little extra and move up to the Turbo with it’s more-powerful engine and bigger wheels.

Amanda and I decided we wanted the white Turbo model we had driven, but with a weekend in Hattiesburg coming up, we didn’t know when we would get back to Gulfport to buy it. Up until then, our car shopping experience at Allen Hyundai had been much more pleasant than I’d expected. So I thanked our salesman for his time and promised him we’d be back to buy it (which I’m sure he’d heard thousands of times). It was at this point that I anticipated some resistance from him or the sales manager. But they were all as cheerful as could be, and Amanda and I left a little stunned that there was no pressure exerted on us to buy it immediately.

As we drove down the highway, we agreed that the Turbo was perfect, and we didn’t want to let it slip through our fingers. So we turned around and headed back to the dealership. Once there, I asked them to appraise our Freestyle so I could get an idea of what they were willing to pay for it. Granted, the Freestyle was dirty and hadn’t been washed in a while because we had no intention of actually trading it in that day. As such, they offered us $2,200 which fell under the “Rough Trade-In” NADA allowance. Truthfully, it was probably pretty accurate given the condition (122,000 miles, a crack in the windshield, stains on the seats, worn tires, etc.) but I was aiming for the “Average Trade-In” value of $3,000 since I was expecting them to negotiate down from the Santa Fe’s MSRP. Yet to my surprise, they presented me with a quote for the Santa Fe at just $300 over invoice. Secretly, I was delighted with their proposal, but with my best poker face I told them I needed $3,000 for the Freestyle. They agreed to meet me halfway at $2,500 and I accepted since I was already happy with the initial price, and the extra $300 was just icing on the cake. Truthfully, I could have probably haggled my way to $3000, but because the whole experience had been so stress-free, I was satisfied.

I was also pleased that there were no bogus charges like “Undercoating” tacked onto the sticker price. Their only concession to profit was a $99 charge for “Nitrogen-Filled” tires. Naturally, this is not something I would ordinarily purchase, but it does give me the opportunity to finally evaluate this popular trend on my own. Given that the $100,000 Nissan GT-R comes standard with Nitrogen-filled tires tells me there’s some value to it, but whether it will make a difference in our Santa Fe remains to be seen. The primary benefit of filling tires with Nitrogen is the principal that it’s much less susceptible to temperature and pressure fluctuations than conventional oxygen. As the water vapor expands or contracts due to heat and cold, it can make it necessary to regulate the amount of air in the tires on a weekly basis. Now, with the Santa Fe’s sophisticated Tire Pressure Monitoring System (TPMS) I can easily keep an eye on the individual pressures without having to use an old-fashioned tire gauge.

Our Turbo was also liberally outfitted with handsome, black carpeted floor mats and a black cargo mat. With Santa Fe stitched in silver on them, they retail for $160 and $130 respectively. I didn’t protest this accessory because I was going to buy them regardless. Sure, I could have saved a few dollars by purchasing them on Ebay, but then I would have had to wait a week or more on the shipping. The plush cargo mat is also so nice that it’s a shame to actually have to use it. I thought about buying a plastic cargo mat for it, but it seemed redundant to have a cover for the cover.  

The other dealer-installed addition that was already on the Turbo when we bought it was a heavy-duty trailer hitch. Unlike the garish ones with the shiny silver ball you see on pickup trucks, this was an all-black Class 2 Hitch with a two-inch receiver specifically designed for the Santa Fe. When not in use, a rectangular cover with the Hyundai logo keeps it camouflaged. Like the Nitrogen-inflated tires, this is not something I would have purposely specified, but it’s nice to have. Our Freestyle had a meager 1000 lbs. towing capacity, and that coupled with the troublesome transmission meant we would have never dreamed of even pulling a balloon behind it. But the Santa Fe can tow a whopping 3,500 lbs. which means I can even pull my Saturn if the need arises.

We had to transfer a significant amount of possessions from the Freestyle to the Santa Fe and this highlighted one of my wife’s favorite new features of the 2015 model-- The Hands-Free Smart Liftgate. It’s exceedingly convenient to not have to fumble with opening the rear liftgate when your hands are full. It also closes automatically which squelches one of my biggest gripes with the manual liftgate on the Freestyle and that was dusty handprints from numerous opening and closings. However, when the Santa Fe’s liftgate does close there’s enough alarms and flashing lights to make you wonder if a NASA Space Shuttle launch is imminent. Ostensibly, I believe this is so any appendages and small children are clear of the area. Otherwise, those items might be hastily converted into pâté.

As I mentioned before, the CVT in the Freestyle was great when it worked properly, and I was worried we had gotten spoiled on its seamless upshifts and downshifts over the past nine years. However, I was excited by just how smooth the Santa Fe’s six-speed automatic is. In fact, Hyundai utilizes their patented “Shiftronic” technology to allow drivers to manually select the gears if they so desire. This dynamic demeanor is further emphasized by a new 32-bit microprocessor that manages the electric power steering. For 2015, Hyundai's Driver Selectable Steering Mode (DSSM) has been enhanced with a retuned “Sport” setting that offers a firmer feel and more responsive feedback. Complementing this are new tire bushings, increased stiffness in the wheel bearings, lower control arms, and revised suspension geometry. The net result of all this engineering voodoo is an SUV that feels as solid as a Sherman tank, and tracks just as straight.

Of course, the Santa Fe would be as useless as a screen door on a submarine if it couldn’t get out of it’s own way. To combat this, Hyundai installed its Theta II turbocharged 2.0 four-cylinder. This engine is shared with the Mitsubishi Lancer Evolution and was jointly developed under the Global Engine Manufacturing Alliance. It’s also remarkably similar to the supercharged 2.0 four-cylinder in my Saturn. But thanks to ultramodern electronic sorcery lacking on my Red Line such as Variable Valve Timing (VVT) and Gasoline Direct Injection (GDI), the Santa Fe makes 265 hp on 87 octane (or 280 hp on 93 octane). Enthusiasts will recall that the legendary Syclone truck also made 280 hp, but required a turbocharged 4.3 V-6 to accomplish it. Car and Driver recently tested the 2015 Santa Fe Turbo Limited model with all-wheel drive, and noted that in spite of the excessive curb weight of 4,021 lbs., it still managed a sports car-like 6.6-second sprint to 60 mph. Furthermore, with our two-wheel drive model weighing some 450 lbs. less, it slices nearly a half-second from those figures. That would put our Turbo door-to-door with my Red Line’s stock quarter-mile of 14.7 @ 97 mph. Even more astounding, it grinds to a halt from 70 mph in 168 ft., just six-feet longer than my 2,800 lb. Saturn.  And although horsepower is bumped nearly 50% from the 2.4’s 190, it’s the inflated torque that makes the Santa Fe Turbo so responsive. Whereas the naturally-aspirated 2.4 doesn’t reach it’s maximum torque of 181 lb.-ft. until a lofty 4250 rpm, the Turbo achieves it’s 270 lb.-ft. at a much more usable 1750 rpm. Generating this twist is a Mitsubishi TD04 model that offers an overboost of 16-18psi with a sustained surge of 14psi. And ensuring 100,000 miles of trouble-free operation, the 1998cc block is reinforced with a ladder frame and forged connecting rods. Also, the engine is built at the Hyundai plant in Montgomery, Alabama, before being shipped over to Georgia for final assembly. Moreover, because the Santa Fe’s engine bay is sized to accommodate the larger 3.3-liter V6 of the 7-seat GLS model, there’s a surplus of space for the four-cylinder. In fact, this is the most space I’ve had in an engine compartment since my 1990 Mustang GT. And for someone accustomed to doing his own oil changes and other maintenance, it’s quite refreshing.

Hyundai has worked more magic than David Copperfield when designing the Santa Fe. Outwardly, it appears small and compact, but it’s no illusion how much interior room it has. In fact, it’s the exact same width as the Freestyle, yet 5 inches taller and a foot shorter. The extra height translates into the amphitheater-like openness of the cabin but the shorter length does sacrifice roughly 10 cubic feet of cargo space. Going in, this was a concession we knew we’d have to accept. What I wasn’t expecting was having a smaller gas tank. We’d gotten accustomed to the Freestyle’s 19 gallon tank, so to downsize to a 17.4 one in the Santa Fe came as a bit of a shock. Anyway, I rationalized that with the Hyundai’s superior fuel economy (we’ve seen as high as 34.8 mpg), we could still go considerably further than the Freestyle even with a tinier tank.

As we proceeded to leave the dealership, I pressed the illuminated “ENGINE START/STOP” button and the Santa Fe hummed to life. With the futuristic blue glow of the Electroluminescent Gauge Cluster, I felt like I was on the bridge of the U.S.S. Enterprise. Everywhere around me there were screens processing and displaying information. In the center console, a picture of the Santa Fe came up with “System Scan” flashing above it. A light bounced back and forth like it was being X-rayed, but thankfully it was just a routine check and not an impending TSA airport strip search. I counted no less than 17 buttons just on the steering wheel, for managing everything from the Bluetooth and USB devices to the satellite radio. Even the mirror had 7 buttons! Meanwhile, Amanda was busy adjusting the temperature of her heated leather seat. Travelling down the highway, a vehicle pulled alongside on my left and the Blind Spot Detection (BSD) lit up an amber silhouette of a car in my driver’s side mirror, warning me that it was there. This is a great feature since my wife is notoriously bad about changing lanes without looking. Even better, the Lane Change Assist can issue a Rear Cross-Traffic Alert (RCTA) that audibly cautions the driver if they try to move into a space occupied by another motorist. This, coupled with an alphabet-soup of safety features such as Electronic Stability Control (ESC), Traction Control System (TCS) and Vehicle Stability Management (VSM) system means even Stevie Wonder would be hard pressed to crash it. But, if such an unfortunate incident does occur, the Santa Fe is prepared with a whopping seven airbags covering everything from our head to our knees and earning it a five-star safety rating.

The next morning, I drove my 1996 del Sol to work and it felt like I had awakened twenty years in the past. The rudimentary controls and analog items (like the odometer and cassette player) were quite a shock after I had spent the previous night acclimating myself to the Santa Fe’s digital domain.  

So what are the Santa Fe’s shortcomings? Thankfully nothing major, but I’ve found a few nitpicks here and there. For starters, at the post $30K price-point I’d expect Xenon headlights and LED taillights but they’re only available in a $4,400 “Ultimate” package that includes such frivolous items as “Premium Door Sill Plates” and “Ultimate Badging on Liftgate”, the latter of which can be purchased on Ebay for $19.99. I’d be remiss if I didn’t point out that even econoboxes like a new $16,000 Toyota Corolla now come with standard Xenon headlights or a Nissan Sentra with LED tailights. Also, the steering wheel is so cluttered with buttons that there’s no room for an opening at the bottom of the steering wheel to rest my hand on long trips. At best, I can squeeze two fingers through, but this makes for an awkward grip like I’m attempting to throw a Major League knuckleball. And that would not be recommended on a ten-hour drive to Disney World unless I wanted prematurely arthritic hands. Again, this is our first car ever without that convenience, along with slippery, leather-covered door ledges that are too narrow to prop my arm on. Secondly, the maintenance schedule calls for new spark plugs at 45,000 miles which seems awfully early. The plugs on my Red Line are not due for a change until 100,000 miles although I did move to a colder plug when I dropped pulley sizes. Additionally, there’s so much power on tap that my wife is having to learn to recalibrate her right foot. Even with traction control enabled, she recently spun the tires merging into traffic which prompted my startled daughter to scream from the backseat, “ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL US?!?” Obviously, Victoria’s come to expect rapid acceleration from my car, but the Mom-mobile is another story. I’m also not particularly enamored with the Kumho Crugen tires which sound like something you’d order at Benihana. Truthfully, I had similar misgivings about the Continental Contisports on our Freestyle, but they ended up lasting 65,000 miles so I guess I really can’t complain.   

Considering we paid $27,000 for our no-frills Freestyle when we bought it new in March 2006, the Santa Fe Turbo represents a tremendous bargain at $30,000 out the door. It’s more luxurious, more powerful, and more fuel-efficient. We had cross-shopped other models such as the Mercedes-Benz GLK350 which Amanda really liked, but it had worse fuel-economy, a shorter warranty, and a nearly $10,000 premium. Having happily driven Saturns for twenty years, I’ve never been compelled to buy a car because of it’s fancy hood ornament, although those status-seeking individuals in Hurley who do are easy to spot. No, I think we’ll be just fine with our SUV that was built in Georgia and not Germany, thank you very much.

However, I do hope that our Santa Fe’s reliability is better than Hyundai’s customer relations. On the way back from my daughter’s dance competition in Birmingham, we stopped off to take a picture of our new Santa Fe in front of the manufacturing facility. Since it was a Sunday, I knew there would be no guided tours, so we simply pulled off on the side of the road to snap a shot with the sprawling facility in the background. And judging by the ruts and lack of grass on the shoulder, it looked like we weren’t the first to do that. I stepped outside while Amanda and Victoria remained inside the vehicle. I was having difficulty lining up our Santa Fe with the large Hyundai sign when I saw a Chevy Suburban rapidly approaching with the headlights flashing and the horn blaring. It pulled alongside and I saw a young black woman was the sole occupant. She had the passenger window down and started yelling at me that I couldn’t take pictures and that they were about to get my tag number and call the police. I almost burst out laughing at the absurdity of the situation. Clearly, I was not some spy committing international espionage. Even after I calmly pointed out that I had bought a new Hyundai and simply wanted to take a picture in front of the sign, she was less friendly than the Japanese during World War II. So when I saw that her hostile attitude wasn’t going to change, I ceased trying to reason with her and we left. Conversely, I mentioned to my wife that despite the woman’s bluster and idle threats, there was nothing legally they could do since I was on a public highway. But the experience did leave me with one nagging conundrum that will possibly never be answered: Hyundai’s security patrol drives Chevy Suburbans!?!  

Over Spring Break, we took our longest trip yet to Panama City and Destin. With enough insects and bugs splattered on our windshield to make an entomologist envious, and white sand covering every square inch inside and out, I do believe our Santa Fe has lost it’s luster of newness. But the big thrill for me was observing the real-time fuel economy of 28.4 mpg at an air-conditioned 85 mph on the interstate. In comparison, the Freestyle only managed 22 mpg on a similar Florida trip last year, and that’s not even counting the Hyundai’s extra horsepower. And despite the worst tourist traffic we’ve ever encountered on the Emerald Coast, the Santa Fe handled it and the soaring spring temperatures with aplomb. My only complaint was some initial stiction in the accelerator pedal which made it hard to smoothly apply the throttle. Other than that, it was much lighter and more nimble than the longer and heavier Freestyle.   

Finally, my daughter has christened our new Frost White Santa Fe “Elsa” after the polar queen from Disney’s Frozen. And because everything was so rushed with us buying it spontaneously, I needed some assurance that we chose the ideal one to serve us for the next 10 years. It was a couple days after we got it home that I noticed the build date of January 6th 2015, which coincidentally was the same day as my Mother’s passing. So, was it just a cosmic coincidence that of all the Santa Fe’s we ended up with this one? For me, that’s a clear enough sign that she approves, and that we picked the right one.