Amphicar!

Perhaps the biggest change we witnessed at Disney since our previous visit in 2012 was the reimaging of Downtown Disney into the more imaginatively-named Disney Springs. It’s true that aside from the facelift, it’s still largely recognizable as Downtown Disney in much the same way Caitlin Jenner is still recognizable as Bruce Jenner. And many people (whether out of ignorance or just plain stubbornness) continued to call it Downtown Disney. This was an obvious sore spot with park employees who took exception to the faux pas and frequently corrected visitors on it.

 

Victoria was scheduled to dance there on Sunday (hence our trip) and while she was getting her hair and makeup done, I had a couple hours to kill in the new Disney Springs. Never let it be said that the House of Mouse has not perfected the art of separating money from guest’s wallets, and Disney Springs is no exception. It was cannily crafted to appeal to all ages, and the appearance of Starbucks coffee shops is but the latest weapon in their finances-draining arsenal. I was immune to the offerings from the Java Giant, but everyone else in our dance company purchased at least one overpriced beverage.

 

I bypassed almost all of the 70 shopping, dining and entertainment traps with impunity. But, it wasn’t until I began strolling over the recently built Village Causeway that I spotted my Kryptonite: A new restaurant called  “The Boat House” and out in front of it was a 1960s-era Amphicar. Like some rare jewel, it was slowly revolving on a giant turntable. Initially, I thought it was just a static display as many of the attractions are in Disney. It wasn’t until I got closer that I realized you could actually ride in it!

 

The Amphicar began it’s doomed existence in 1961 Berlin, Germany ironically built by the same company that made Luger pistols for the Nazis during World War II. Harold Quandt, the owner of BMW, supposedly sunk $5 Million into the project.  Originally, production was slated for 30,000 units but records indicate only a little over ten percent (3,878) actually made it off the assembly line. Off those, roughly 3700 came to the U.S. and were sold through a company called “Amphicar Corporation of America”. The MSRP was $3,300 which placed it in a precarious position: It competed in the same price segment as V-8 muscle cars like the $3,225 Pontiac GTO, but was powered by a lackluster Triumph four-cylinder. Meanwhile, small cars like the MG and Austin Healey with a similar four-cylinder were selling for just $2,600. To value-conscious American buyers, the Amphicar came off as overpriced and underpowered. Even worse, it was speculated that Quandt lost $700 on each one that sold for $3,300. And unfortunately, those were few and far between. By 1964, in a desperate bid to keep the Amphicar afloat, the price was continually discounted to a rock-bottom $2,800. But the death of Quandt that same year, and increasingly stringent EPA regulations are the two items said to be the final nails in the coffin. Today, only 500 “swimming” ones are still in service with about 7 in the U.K. and 80 in Europe.

 

However, the Amphicar is not unlike the DeLorean, another car which was initially plagued with poor sales and public stigma only to experience a cultural resurgence decades later. Putting a fleet of them in action at Disney was the brainchild of Steven Schussler of Minnesota-based Schussler Creative. His other familiar Disney-branded works are Rainforest Cafe, T-Rex Cafe and Yak& Yeti. Schussler stated the nautical-themed restaurant is an idea he pitched to Disney six years ago. He said executives weren’t receptive to the notion of waterfront dining until the big push came from Disney Springs, which is built on the oxymoronic Bay Lake (Is it a Bay? Or is it a Lake?). He adds that The Boat House was one of the most challenging projects he’s ever tackled, citing the necessary use of stainless steel and other materials that are typically foreign to a wooden structure. The goal during development was to build something capable of withstanding Florida’s hurricanes and still last 100 years.  Schussler proudly volunteers that they put down 175 steel beams in the water to support it all. Owing to the name, there’s also 28 “dreamboats” docked there, magnificent examples from the the '30s, '40s and '50s. Finally, he claims that the concept was so successful since opening last April that a second “Boat House” will be unveiled at the new Disney theme park in Shanghai this year.

 

I squeeze past the gawking crowds assembled outside and make my way into The Boat House’s gift shop. There I encounter a pleasant young lady behind the cash register with whom I inquire about purchasing a ride in one of the Amphicars for myself, my wife and my daughter. She politely explains that it costs $135 for a 20-minute tour of the lake. Perhaps expecting me to quickly bolt towards the nearest exit like a spooked feline, she seems astonished when I stick around and ask if reservations are required? It turns out they are not, because apparently so few people actually pay for the Amphicar experience that there’s immediate seating. Herewith, a true modern phenomenon, the first documented case of an attraction at Disney that entails no wait at all. Everyone may laugh at that, but we even witnessed 15-minute standbys for the thirty year-old Captain EO movie at Epcot!

 

It’s about three hours later before Victoria’s dance routine is completed, and we have a celebratory lunch at Earl of Sandwich until we make it back to The Boat House. The ogling crowds have swelled since the morning (as has general park attendance) and after paying, we’re instructed to sign release waivers. Apparently, these are so Disney cannot be held responsible if something catastrophic happens such as our Amphicar unexpectedly becomes a submarine, or we get attacked by a Great White shark like in Jaws 3-D. Even more troubling, Victoria is the only one who gets a life preserver, leading me to wonder what happens to her if Amanda and I both perish? That notwithstanding, I reassure my wife that hitting an iceberg should be the least of our concerns.

 

As we’re waiting for an Amphicar to return, I’m hedging my bets as to which one will be ours. All four are currently transporting passengers around the lake, and I’m ardently hoping we’ll get the Regatta Red one. All have white convertible tops, but the other colors circling around are Lagoon Blue, Beach Sand White and Fjord Green. While those were the standard colors, a few Emerald Green ones where constructed for the Berlin Police, as well as a black one. Additionally, fifty custom ivory Amphicars with red tops and side trim were designed for promotional use at Cypress Gardens and the 1964 World’s Fair.

 

Suddenly, a middle-aged woman reeking of liquor rudely shoves her way past Amanda, Victoria and myself. As she’s right in front of me, I can’t help but overhear her conversation with the attendant. Apparently, she believes we are all lined up for a free ride in an Amphicar and wants the details on it. Even the employee finds this amusing and hastily informs her of the cost. Feigning shock at the price, she asks if there’s a discount available? Without missing a beat, he exclaims “Sure, it’s 50% off at twice the price.” It takes her alcohol-addled brain a few seconds to process this and then she angrily storms off.

 

Finally, we see our Amphicar approaching and unfortunately it’s our least desirable pick-- the Fjord Green one. I know manufacturers typically take poetic license with their products to make them seem more attractive and desirable by using exotic names, but I honestly believe “Fjord Green” is the single worst description for an automotive color I’ve ever heard.  It ranks up there with all the pizzazz of “Burnt Sienna”, which sounds like a Toyota minivan owned by an arsonist. Also, fanciful hues should be universal enough that you don’t have to Google them to learn what they are. In case you were wondering (as I was), a fjord is a “long, narrow, deep inlet of the sea between high cliffs, as in Norway and Iceland, typically formed by submergence of a glaciated valley.” However, I keep this information more secret than Hillary Clinton’s Benghazi e-mails since I don’t want Victoria remembering the term was used in the Disney brainwashing-blockbuster Frozen. Like the Zika virus, all it takes is one to start singing “Let it Go” and it organically spreads to every child in earshot.    

 

Fortunately, I didn’t have too long to dwell on this as our Amphicar begins pulling into the boat slip. It’s shooting a “water flag” stream behind it, like you see on jet-skis, and Victoria is concerned it has sprung a major leak. As it pulls up beside us, water splashes out of the sides and fender wells, and seaweed is hanging from the undercarriage. It looks remarkably like a submerged vehicle that had just been pulled to safety, only there’s not a swarm of news media and personal-injury lawyers present. 

 

Pictures don’t really do it justice, as the Amphicar is much bigger in person. It clocks in at just over 14 feet long with the highest rear fins of any production car, standing roughly 1 inch higher than those on a 1959 Cadillac. The tall tires kind of give it an off-road 4x4 stance, and it’s not an optical illusion. With 10-inches of ground clearance and a completely flat bottom for optimum hydrodynamics, it maneuvers in snow better than most trucks. And despite a light weight of just 2000 lbs, there’s no fiberglass in the Amphicar as you’d find in a watercraft. The entire construction is reinforced steel with lead fillings to make it completely waterproof. As such, I think there might be more lead in Bay Lake than Flint, Michigan.

 

A huge crowd has assembled and is enviously watching us get in. A small boy standing nearby asks our Amphicar captain if he really plans to drive it into the water? Our captain replies that you can drive any car into the lake, but the real magic is having a car that can drive back out! Indeed, I’m sure Ted Kennedy wished he had one at Chappaquiddick. The same goes for Andy House who famously drove his $1 million Bugatti Veyron into the Texas marsh. He could have saved a fortune and avoided going to prison if he’d only bought an Amphicar!

 

Dark clouds gather on the horizon and I’m hoping we don’t get rained out. I inquire about a rain-check policy, but our captain assures me that they carry ponchos and umbrellas for just such occasions.

At last, we are buckled up and ready to go, only this is distinctly unlike any ride we’ve taken in a car before. Approximately fifty feet in front of us, our driveway suddenly disappears into Bay Lake's brackish waters.

Then we’re off and approaching the watery depths at roughly 25 mph. I suppose it’s a natural reaction when confronted with such a sight to instinctively attempt to brake or swerve, but I’m eerily calm.

Granted, I’ve had my fair share of car wrecks but thankfully they’ve all been on land. And at least this time I can’t be held responsible for a vehicle ending up in a lake. The splashdown is surprisingly gentle, and we don’t get a single drop of water on us, nor does it require using the windshield wipers. My immediate sensation is to expect water to start gushing in and filling the foot wells, but miraculously we don’t sink! If anything the Amphicar forges ahead through the water as easily as it did on pavement. Maybe they should consider changing the name to “Forge Green” which is certainly less confusing. Heck, it looks turquoise to me anyway!

Naturally, my first question is how fast does it go in the water? Our captain explains that all the Amphicars were known as “Model 770” which stands for 7 knots (about 8 mph) in the water and 70 miles per hour on land. He elaborates that it’s powered by a 1.1-liter four-cylinder that makes 43 hp. This power is channeled through a special Porsche 356-derived transmission that runs both the rear-wheels as well as the propellers. The fuel system is also borrowed from the 356, while much of the braking system and suspension is Mercedes.

“All this and 35 mpg on the highway!” our captain brags, stating that it uses just 1-2 gallons of regular unleaded per hour in the water. Upon seeing some tourists gazing off the pier at us, he yells “Is this the way to I-75?” They laugh and raise their drinks in a salute.

Suddenly, we begin to feel a few sprinkles and the rain I had hoped would abstain has decided to dampen our spirits. However, our captain doesn’t seem fazed in the least by it, even when it begins coming down harder and harder. He volunteers that it doesn’t bother him and that he actually prefers it. “It was 110 degrees this summer” he recalls shaking his head, then adding “at least I got a nice tan!” He continues philosophically, “That’s what’s nice about the weather in Florida. If you don’t like it, just wait until the next day and it’s completely different.” Our captain is certainly correct. Thanks to the Sunshine State’s schizophrenic climate, the mercury swings from a sweltering high of 90 during the day to a shivering low of 50 at night. This also explains why in some pictures we look like we’re dressed for an arctic exploration and in others a day at the beach.

Despite their appearance, I learn that these Amphicars are much tougher than they seem. In 1968, two Amphicars traveled 350 miles down the rough waters of the Yukon in Alaska. Another pair successfully crossed the English Channel during gale-force winds and twenty-foot seas. With the top up and windows raised, it’s a shockingly seaworthy vessel. It’s also had a list of celebrity customers nearly as eclectic as it is: Country singer Alan Jackson, actor Dan Ackroyd, director George Lucas, performer Madonna and ex-Presidents Lyndon Johnson and Jimmy Carter. Johnson was perhaps the most notorious owner with his penchant for playing pranks on unsuspecting visitors. He would reportedly give people a tour of his ranch in it before abruptly steering into his pond at full speed screaming “The brakes are out!”

Understandably, it was also a great investment if you’d have had the foresight to buy one. Over the past decade, 54 have changed hands at various auctions all over the world. With a high price of $123,000 in 2011 at Barrett-Jackson in Scottsdale and a 2009 low price of $27,500 in Ft. Lauderdale at Auctions America. Maintenance parts can be pricey, but are thankfully plentiful. Several user groups have also sprung up around the country which afford owners, and potential owners, the ability to socialize as well as sell and buy parts. 

Seemingly too soon, our pleasure cruise is over and we pull back into The Boat House. We are soaked, not from the water but from the rain, and Amanda declares it the “Best Worst Time We’ve Ever Had!” Although I wouldn’t want to own an Amphicar, I’m certainly glad I had the opportunity to ride in one. It’s a unique experience I’d recommend to every auto enthusiast at least once in their life.

Test Track!

In the past six years, we’ve visited Disney World three times and now I can finally scratch Test Track off my bucket list. Although it originally opened in 1999 (replacing World of Motion) it was fully another decade before I took my daughter. In 2009, she was four years old and beaming with anticipation as we walked up to the gate. However, we were denied entry when they measured her height and found she was just shy of the mandatory 40 inches. In fact, it was so close that her hair bow was actually above the required stature but the two attendants steadfastly refused admittance. I quipped that I thought it was supposed to be the “Happiest Place on Earth” but they obviously didn’t care. They suggested I ride it alone, but as a sign of solidarity I refused. It didn’t seem fair for me to ride it without her.

 

Three years later we returned and I was looking forward to experiencing Test Track since my daughter was now more than tall enough. Those arrogant employees could shove their trading pins where the sun doesn’t shine! But as fate would have it, Test Track was being retooled and was closed for nearly the entire calendar year. To make matters worse, we missed the re-opening on December 6, 2012 by less than a week.

So when we planned to return in 2015, I made sure there would be nothing stopping us from finally riding it. To that end, my wife even reserved Fast Passes for it.

 As it happened, that was probably the smartest decision we’ve ever made on vacation. That’s because despite continuing price increases, attendance was at record levels. On Thanksgiving day, Magic Kingdom was at capacity and people were being turned away. This meant that transportation (bus, boat and monorail) between the parks took the better part of an hour and wait times for most attractions was two hours. And judging by what I saw, I believe Disney is the only place a grown man can wear mouse ears without ridicule.

Just last year, Disney retrofitted all its properties with Radio Frequency (RF)-controlled wrist bands at a cost of $1 billion. These “Magic Bands” contain all the information needed to access everything from your meals, hotel rooms and park tickets. As someone who makes his living in Information Technology, I can only imagine what a logistical nightmare it must have been. However, it worked flawlessly for us the entire seven days we were there. And despite the draconian overtones and privacy fears, they seemed to be universally embraced.

I mention the Magic Bands because they’re an integral part of the Test Track experience. You start by swiping your wrist in front of the admission turn stall and a green glowing Disney symbol lets you proceed. If it turns blue, as it did with some patrons, there’s a problem.

With our Fast Passes, we strolled on in past the seemingly endless line of poor, unfortunate souls who were having to wait in the “Standby” area. Their envious glares were quite satisfying and it seemed that the combined effects of exhaustion, eternal waiting, and claustrophobic environments was the perfect mix for more than a few of the meltdowns we witnessed throughout the holiday week. I mentioned to my wife that I certainly couldn’t work at Disney and remain cheerful during events like the “Magic Hours” where the parks don’t close until 2 a.m. Among the reasons speculated for the employees’ ability to maintain such a jolly disposition was either Prozac, Mind-Control or both.

 The first place you enter in Test Track is a lobby of sorts where there’s a Chevrolet concept car on display. Called the “TRU” this small Chevrolet is purportedly a platform for future vehicles although it looks remarkably like the 2016 Cruze. According to the placard on the display stand, the TRU “combines sedan-sized functionality in performance coupe form”. It also states that creating prototypes like this lets designers “explore exciting new styling ideas and groundbreaking technologies.” Semantics aside, the TRU is clearly aimed at achieving low emissions instead of high horsepower. This point is underscored again further into the Test Track experience when I’m penalized for favoring power at the expense of efficiency.

  

The next area has a couple engines on display although there are no descriptions to compliment them. One is clearly a V-6 and the other is a turbocharged four-cylinder. Regrettably, the line moves too quickly for me to accurately scrutinize them for identifiable characteristics. Here too, Chevrolet has chosen to showcase smaller, more environmentally-friendly engines as opposed to the larger eight-cylinder variants that are so popular in their line of trucks and sports cars.

Shortly thereafter, we’re shuffled into a large room with rows of computer terminals. Here, we’re persuaded to believe that we’re Chevrolet engineers and encouraged to design our own car. A basic template is presented and we’re given 4 minutes to go from a blank sheet to a fully functional production car. I think a similar process might have explain what went wrong with the Chevrolet Spark.

Using a touch-screen, I drag my finger across the car creating the most rakish, aerodynamic shape I can muster. After that, I’m presented with a basic blueprint of the car from which I can choose the following attributes: Capability, Efficiency, Power and Responsiveness.  As expected, Efficiency is inversely proportional to Power, with it dropping the more I dial-up Power. Regardless, I choose the biggest motor available, one described as a “muscular gas engine” with “plasma micro-turbines” to “provide maximum power”.  Unfortunately, here’s where reality falls off a cliff. Up until now, and throughout the rest of the Test Track presentation, there’s a certain believability throughout the whole design process. But “plasma micro-turbines”? That sound like some Sci-Fi prose dreamed up by Ray Bradbury. Chevrolet could have simply substituted “electric micro-turbines” and it would have been both futuristic as well as believable.

 

 On a scale of 0-100, the most power I’m able to program is 82 with efficiency have fallen to a middling 26 (or what your average cement truck gets). It’s at this point I nervously look over my shoulder to make sure neither Ralph Nader or Al Gore is standing behind me. It should also be noted that Test Track seems to borrow heavily from the Fast & Furious fundamentals which preach that the more scoops, vents, and wings the vehicle is festooned with, the faster it becomes. As such, my final product looks like a car fused with an Airbus A320.

 

 

It’s finally time to board the Test Track vehicle which is a small, six-passenger slot-car. It’s painted royal blue with a gold Chevrolet emblem on the front and is supposed to be a simulation of the ride you designed. All jokes aside, the Test Track platforms are actually pretty state-of-the-art. Each “SimCar” possess not one, but three onboard computers which continually monitor and adjust hundreds of different settings. According to Disney, that’s more processing power than even the Space Shuttle. They’re also completely made from composite materials, like kevlar and carbon fiber, to keep the tinsel strength up but the weight down. Official horsepower is quoted at 250 which was set when the ride debuted in 1999. At that time, the Pontiac Grand Prix GTP had 240 hp and General Motors though that was an adequate amount to be exciting, yet still safe. With that horsepower, and the SimCar’s lightweight, it can accelerate from 0-65 mph in just 8 seconds even carrying six full-size adults. That makes it the fastest Disney Attraction, beating out both Rock ‘N’ Roller Coaster and Expedition Everest.

 

 

However, the Imagineers also placed a priority on stopping ability so all SimCars are equipped with six individual brakes. Even more amazing, each car is designed to last 1,000,000 miles and routinely clocks 50,000 miles annually. That lets the fleet of 25 cars service 1,200 guests per hour.

 As the ride begins, a series of tests simulating the four qualities chosen at the beginning (Capability, Efficiency, Responsiveness and Power) is undertaken. The first is a 15-degree hill, which admittedly doesn’t sound like much, but is actually a three-story incline. This is followed by a gratuitous plug for OnStar as the vehicle supposedly connects with it and relays information. We’re then whisked through a virtual rain/snow storm and our car skids to a halt. After it begins going again, an LED lightning bolt strikes near our car. These artificial weather hazards are funny because real instances shut the ride down. Given the electric nature of Test Track, the ride is stopped if lightning is identified within a five mile-radius or it is raining. And since nearly half of the ride is outdoors and Florida is prone to hurricanes, it was designed to survive winds of up to 200 mph.

The next segment has us breezing past a futuristic city and the results are displayed from the “Capability” test. Truthfully, the input from the riders is not used and is academic at best, but it continues as part of the flimsy narrative. In the following “Efficiency” portion, the cars are laser-scanned for maximum fuel conservation and not surprisingly, mine flunks right out, coming in dead last. To my chagrin, the lavender van my daughter designed (which I criticized as a four-wheeled Purple People Eater) places first.

The third test, “Responsiveness” sees our car zipping through several hairpin turns as we hold on for dear life. As we swing into a dark tunnel, a laser-projected 18-wheeler semi appears directly in front of us, causing a whiplash stop. The scene is so vivid and realistic that my wife’s sister refused to ride it again. On the plus side, my car does much better here, taking second overall.

Finally, we’re to my favorite part of the ride which is the “Power” test and, most importantly, the one my car finished first at. Our Sim-Car comes to an abrupt halt, preparing us for the violent velocity ahead. Then, it suddenly lunges ahead as the full 250 horsepower is activated. And that’s what makes electric vehicles so thrilling is that maximum output is available immediately, unlike combustion-based engines which have to gradually spin-up before generating peak energy. The electric aspect is nice also in that it doesn’t create the toxic, eye-watering emissions generated by the gasoline-powered go-carts at Tomorrowland Speedway.

We shoot down a corridor with flashing purple arrows like a rocket launching from a silo. Suddenly, we burst through and are on the outside portion of the track, diving deep into a right turn. The track then flips back to the left at a wide, fifty-degree radius. At this steep angle, the loading g-forces make the 65 mph speed feel like 90 mph. There’s an old automotive trope used to describe a car’s stellar cornering as “handling like it’s on rails”. In this case, such an overused cliché is truly appropriate since it really is on rails. And it also underscores the hyperbole employed by journalists to convey a point, since no production car could realistically approach those limits. Incidentally, Disney lore has it that Test Track was originally designed to accommodate speeds of 95 mph on the outside section of the track. However, officials vetoed it given safety concerns and Florida’s maximum speed limit of 65 mph. Alas, one can only imagine how breathtaking Test Track would be at 95 mph.

As we approach the end of the back straight, there’s a huge digital sign showing our speed. When we pass it, a camera flashes a bright light, taking our picture. But unlike Florida’s infamous Red Light Cameras, this is one Photo Radar device we won’t get a ticket from.  Sadly, it also signals the end of the 5 1/2-minute thrill ride. We glide back into the Test Track pavilion greeted by throngs of anxious patrons eager to take our place.

 

We unbuckle and walk out into the adjoining Chevrolet showroom which is filled with all manner of bowtie offerings. There’s a Silverado in one corner and a Malibu in another. A 2016 Sonic RS Turbo catches my eye and I walk over for a closer look. I wince as I see several toddlers climbing on it like a Jungle Gym. Their parents are nowhere to be seen and one is using the backseat as a trampoline while the other is furiously opening and slamming the doors. Not to be outdone, yet another is busy cramming gummy bears into every possible receptacle. Unfortunately, the Sonic RS Turbo is the sole Sport Compact offering from Chevrolet and is an anemic replacement for the 260 hp Cobalt SS which departed in 2010. The Sonic’s standard engine is a 1.8-liter four-cylinder generating 138 horsepower or you can opt for the “Sporty” 1.4 turbocharged four-cylinder with the same 138 hp. Unbelievably, GM is even hawking an official Stage Kit (p/n: 23233811) for $999 that adds 10 hp and 15 tq. Twenty years ago, 150 hp made for brisk acceleration in a sports coupe, but now you’ll be run over by a grandma in a V-6 Camry.

Drawing most of the attention is a 2015 Camaro SS. I give props to Chevy for advertising the gas-guzzling model which flies in the face of their eco-friendly ethos. However, I’m disappointed that it’s not the more-desirable 2016 model with the lightweight Alpha platform and 455hp Corvette V-8. In fact, given that the new Camaro’s combined fuel economy is up 20% over the 2015 model, you’d think they would be keen to advertise it.

 

We walk into the next room, and see the crown jewel of Chevrolet’s presentation: A 2016 Corvette Stingray. Illuminated from underneath in an eerie green glow, it looks like a ghostly apparition from the Haunted Mansion attraction. But what’s truly scary is the price tag—a base price of $60,400 plus another $18,425 in options. That’s right, the cost of the options alone is nearly enough to buy a 2016 Sonic RS Turbo! So how in the name of Zora Arkus-Duntov do you manage to rack up the price of a small car in just accessories? Most of it is for pretty, albeit expensive, Carbon Fiber. There’s $2,995 for a “Carbon Fiber Dual Roof Package”, $1,995 for a “Visible Carbon Fiber Hood” and $995 for a “Carbon Fiber Interior Package”. I’ll confess that while I’m offended by those prices, I’m also a little ashamed that the $250,000 Ferrari California Turbo I drove recently didn’t have any carbon fiber accouterments. But Chevy knows the extras are where the real profit is so how about $595 for red brake calipers? It’ll save you two hours in your driveway and an $8 can of caliper paint. Or what about $795 for Two-Tone Seats with “Sueded Microfiber Inserts”? Don’t forget $495 for “Black Painted Aluminum Wheels” even though it requires a $590 “Color Combination Override”. In keeping with the Carbon Fiber theme, there’s also a $100 “Carbon Fiber Badge Package” apparently telling you that the Carbon Fiber is, well, Carbon Fiber. Finally, toss in another $100 for “Carbon Flash Painted Mirrors” which coordinates the motif. 

 

 

Hoping to capitalize on the experience, the final area is a room predictably crammed with Chevrolet memorabilia for sale. Disney makes no secret that it is a “For Profit” organization and Walt’s original ideology of creating a special “Magic Kingdom” for kids has been replaced by an indoctrination of corporate greed. I declared to my wife that no longer are Disney movies produced to merely bring joy and happiness to children, but are shrewdly designed vessels for marketing as many products as possible, from clothing to toothpastes and everything in-between. Not to sound cynical, but it’s a little disheartening when three mugs of LeFou’s Brew (Basically frozen apple juice and mango foam) costs $30. But I’ve resigned myself to the fact that that the large crowds and high prices are the nature of the mouse. Still, it’d be nice to go to Disney just once when it wasn’t completely mobbed and they didn’t try to rob us blind. But if you do go, be sure to check out Test Track. It’s definitely worth the wait! 

 

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.