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.
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