Tumgik
#Ferrari 330 GTS Targa
Photo
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Ferrari 330 GTS Targa, 1969, by Harrah. A one-off built by Bill Harrah for an American client.
303 notes · View notes
photos-car · 4 months
Link
0 notes
wheelstelling · 3 years
Text
ASA 1000 GT
Tumblr media
     Mio padre Alberto era un grande appassionato di corse e dal ‘73 al ‘77 partecipò come pilota alle edizioni della Targa Florio. Quando nel 1987, l’ACI di Palermo, decise di riproporre la gara come “rievocazione storica” papà pensò che fosse una bella opportunità di rientrare nel modo delle competizioni … ma bisognava trovare una macchina. Un giorno, un suo collega, gli segnalò una strana vettura in vendita con un marchio sconosciuto. Mi chiamò e mi chiese di controllare cosa fosse l’ASA.
Tumblr media
     Sfogliai la mia “Enciclopedia Milleruote” e subito notai una foto che ritraeva Enzo Ferrari poggiato su una ASA 1000 GT. Con stupore dissi a mio padre che era progettata dalla Ferrari!!. Andammo subito a vederla. Nonostante fosse malconcia, papà l’acquistò e iniziò subito l’avventura del restauro che durò circa tre anni. Fu davvero un’avventura perché nell’88 internet non esisteva e trovare i pezzi di ricambio era molto difficile, ma la fortuna era dalla nostra parte. A settembre, sfogliando un giornale specializzato notai un annuncio di un collezionista milanese che si vendeva molti ricambi Asa. Noi eravamo già a Monza per vedere la F1 per cui la deviazione fu minima e tornammo a casa con un “bottino” prezioso.
Tumblr media
     Nel mese di dicembre, la stessa rivista, fece un servizio sull’ASA con foto degli anni 60. C’era tutta la storia dell’ASA, di come e perché era nata. Ci convincemmo ancora di più che la nostra GT era un esemplare molto raro e mio padre decise di non usarla per le competizioni ma di restaurarla per riportarla all’origine. Così fu fatto e dopo 3 anni si ottenne anche la certificazione ASI. La storia dell’ASA era questa:
Tumblr media Tumblr media
     Alla fine degli anni ’50 Enzo Ferrari decise di entrare in concorrenza con Abarth e Giannini realizzando una piccola sportiva. Gli ingegneri Carlo Chiti e Giotto Bizzarrini progettarono un piccolo motore di 854cc e modificarono una Fiat 1200 Coupé Pininfarina per poterne ospitare il motore.  Al Salone dell’Automobile di Torino del ‘61 venne presentata la versione definitiva con la carrozzeria disegnata da un giovane dipendente della Bertone … un certo Giorgetto Giugiaro. Nasceva così la “Ferrarina” chiamata 1000 con un tricolore come stemma.
Tumblr media
     Ma Ferrari ebbe un ripensamento. Si era convinto che la produzione di una Ferrari piccola potesse sminuire il valore delle sue GT lussuose e cercò un imprenditore interessato a comprarsi il progetto “chiavi in mano” e a iniziarne la commercializzazione. Il Sig. Oronzo De Nora e il figlio Nicolò risposero all’appello. Già proprietari di una importante industria chimica erano da tempo in cerca di una possibilità di entrare nel mondo automobilistico. Fondarono la Autocostruzioni Società per Azioni (ASA) con sede a Milano rilevarono il progetto e nel ’63 iniziarono la commercializzazione del coupé (e poi cabrio) con il nome di ASA. Ovviamente rimase la collaborazione con Bertone (sostituito poi dalla Carrozzeria Ellena) e con Ferrari il quale mise a disposizione anche la propria rete di vendita.
Tumblr media
     L’ASA 1000 GT è una 4 cilindri quadro (foto 13), con alesaggio e corsa di 69x69 mm, di 1032 cc, asse a camme in testa, alimentata da due carburatori Weber DCOE da 40. Potenza di circa 91 cv a circa 7.000 giri. Il telaio è tubolare a sezione ellittica con una ponte posteriore identico a quella della GTO. Sospensioni anteriori a ruote indipendenti, bracci triangolari oscillanti, e barra antirollio mentre posteriormente c’è un ponte rigido con molle elicoidali e ammortizzatori idraulici. Freni a disco sulle 4 ruote e cambio 4 marce con overdrive sulla terza e quarta. Velocità massima di circa 190 km/h. Due posti secchi, strumentazione completa di 7 strumenti (pochissime, tra cui la mia, con 8 strumenti). 
Tumblr media
     Negli anni a seguire L’ASA proseguì lo sviluppo del coupé autonomamente, aumentando la cilindrata a 1092cc e creando l’ASA 411 che esteticamente rimaneva invariata. L’ingegner Bizzarrini progettò altre due auto. La 1000 GTC (Competizione), rimasta unico esemplare, con motore centrale anteriore da 994 cc e linee molto simili alla 330 GTO.  Dal volere di Luigi Chinetti, fu progettata la 613 RB Roll Bar, una 6 cilindri di 1.300 cc, considerata l’ASA più bella. Si calcola quindi che l’intera produzione sia stata di circa 120 esemplari di cui solo 75 tutt'oggi circolanti. C’è da ricordare anche un prototipo di F3 con motore Ford che sembra essere adesso in fase di restauro.
Tumblr media
     L’ASA fu presente in poche ma importanti gare. Nel ’63 e nel ’65 partecipò alla Targa Florio. Nel primo tentativo si ritirò, nel secondo gli equipaggi di Babbini/Pedretti e Bassi/Pianta si piazzarono rispettivamente al 22° e 17° posto assoluti. Nel ’66 l’ASA era nuovamente alla Targa Florio con tre vetture, due 411 di Pianta/Moretti e di Pinto/Semilia e una 1000GTC di Dalla Torre/Dini che chiuse al 21° posto. Anche nelle gare di durata l’ASA era presente. A Le mans nel ’66 c’erano due 613RB di Pasquier/Mieusset e Dini/Giunti e l’anno dopo alla 24 ore di Daytona e poi alla 12 ore di Sebring parteciparono sempre le due 613RB ma con gli equipaggi femminili di Donna Mae Mims/Suzy Dietrichche si piazzarono al 24° posto a Daytona e la 25° posto a Sebring.
Tumblr media
     Con un tale palmares era un orgoglio, per noi, far vedere la nostra ASA. Nel ’91 partecipammo alla rievocazione del Giro di Sicilia, al centenario della Targa Florio, al Trofeo del Gattopardo, alla Monte Pellegrino Historic, e tutt’oggi siamo presenti in tanti raduni e concorsi di eleganza nei quali otteniamo sempre riconoscimenti. Circa 20 anni fa, fu fondato il Registro Internazionale ASA e circa 3 anni fa ho creato il gruppo Facebook ASA Autocostruzioni Società per Azioni.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
     Concludendo, il ripensamento di Enzo Ferrari nel produrre e vendere questa piccola GT, fece si che questa vettura avesse vita breve ma negli ultimi tempi è stata riscoperta sia grazie alla divulgazione che stanno realizzando gli appassionati possessori dei pochi modelli ancora presenti ma anche a chi, sempre per passione, vuole conoscere questo progetto che altro non è che la (quasi) Ferrari più piccola mai prodotta in serie.
Tumblr media
  testo: Ernesto Piraino - foto: Ernesto Piraino, web Read the full article
0 notes
jonathanbelloblog · 6 years
Text
Artistic Autos: Our 10 Favorite Cars from Grand Basel
BASEL, SWITZERLAND — If there’s an upside to the proliferation of globetrotting one-percenters, it’s that their vehicular eye candy has more venues than ever in which to be ogled. Crashing the ultraluxe car show circuit this year is Grand Basel, a highfalutin auto expo that borrows a page from Art Basel’s playbook: take the crème de la crème in rolling sculpture, light them like a Rembrandt, and celebrate them in a gallery-like space without the distraction of hard sunlight, cluttered surroundings, or gawking throngs.
About a quarter of the 113 gorgeously illuminated cars shown at the first Grand Basel show were up for sale, though you’d never guess it from the discreetly embedded displays (the distinction was available on Grand Basel’s app if you dig deep enough). Whether commerce or art, what Grand Basel’s debut proved to be above all else is a refreshing and innovative take on the postmodern car show. With conventional industry auto shows waning and appreciation for high dollar classics on the ascent, this latest event joins the likes of Goodwood, Chantilly, and Amelia Island as an emergent force in this rarified space.
Missed the inaugural exhibition? Grand Basel goes to Miami (with primarily U.S.-sourced cars) February 22-24, 2019 and Hong Kong in May, 2019.
Here are ten of our favorites from the Swiss show.
1. Lancia Delta Futurista by Automobili Amos Anyone who grew up with posters of rally monsters like the Lancia Delta Integrale will fully comprehend this high-dollar restomod. Spearheaded by Eugenio Amos, this reimagining of the venerable Integrale deletes two doors, goes wider and lighter with plenty of carbon fiber, and upgrades the engine to 330 horsepower. If the $350,000 asking price seems too dear, consider the early days of Singer and how it helped inject notoriety into the classic Porsche car market.
2. 1974 Lamborghini Countach LP400 Note to Lamborghini Aventador enthusiasts: respect your elders. Specifically, elegant progenitors like this un-flared, elegantly bodied Countach LP400, which paved the way for today’s monstrously styled supersleds. In these simpler times, Lamborghini’s longitudinally mounted V-12 produced only 375 horsepower. But oh what a silhouette it cut. Thanks to its razor sharp crease lines and slotted air intakes, the LP400 resembled nothing else on planet earth. Only 157 of these models exist, making early Countaches all the more covetable.
3. Land Rover Series I Land Rover’s 70th anniversary has celebrated the famously rugged British marque ad nauseam, but this seemingly orthodox Series I specimen offers a clever twist on the off-road icon: discreetly uprated steering and brakes, and a 3.9-liter V-8 tucked under the hood. Built by a Bavarian outfit called Landy Point, this pumped up Rover is among the most understated vintage off-roaders out there.
4. 1968 Giugaro Corvair Testudo We love a good transcontinental mashup just as much as the next guy, and the Giugaro Testudo is one of the more unsuspecting combos in automotive history. First debuting at the 1963 Geneva Motor Show, the Giorgetto Giugiaro-penned Testudo was a visual harbinger of the future, evoking elements of the Lamborghini Miura, Corvette C3, and Porsche 928 which wouldn’t appear for years. This rarely seen one-off was the property of Carrozzeria Bertone for decades until Giugiaro bought it back.
5. Picasso’s 1963 Lincoln Continental Just when you thought you knew everything about Pablo Picasso’s well-documented predilections and preferences, this comes out of the woodwork: the last car ever owned by the Spanish master. Fresh out of restoration, this suicide-door equipped sedan was curated by artist Sylvie Fleury, who has links to Picasso’s family. Designed by Elwood Engel and powered by a 7.0-liter V-8, the all-American sedan adds an interesting footnote to one of the most famous painters of all time.
6. 1953 Fiat 8V Vignale The vast majority midcentury Italian V-8s were of the racy Ferrari variety. Yet Fiat, purveyors of scrappy hatchbacks and workaday people movers, tried its hand at the eight-cylinder genre with their 8V Vignale, which reversed its nomenclature because Ford owned the rights to the “V8” model name. Motivated by a tiny 2.0-liter V-8, this Fiat was a nascent sporting coupe which managed to dominate its Italian GT class, scoring class wins at the Mille Miglia and Targa Florio. Only 114 models were built in all, with roughly half featuring bodies by Ghia, Pininfarina, and Zagato.
7. 1960 Aston Martin DB4 GT Zagato Aston’s recent reissue of this rarity makes the original all the more intriguing. Only 19 of the allotted 25 homologation specials were built and featured a dual Weber-carbureted 3.6-liter six-cylinder producing anywhere between 270 and 314 horsepower. With slick bodywork by Zagato head designer Ercole Spada, this tiny, taut runabout still looks fresh to death, making the 21st century redux all the more comprehensible.
8. 1978 Lancia Sibilo Concept How do you follow up a legend like the Lancia Stratos? Chief Bertone stylist Marcello Gandini—the man responsible for the Lamborghini Miura, Alfa Romeo Montreal, and Bugatti EB110 among others—produced the Sibilo. Built on an extended Stratos chassis, this Ferrari Dino V-6-powered concept took a stab at the future with package that could be equally at home on the set of Tron. The one-of-one wedge featured angular shapes against rounded forms, and originally contrasted its brown hue with yellow wheels.
9. 1970 Monteverdi Hai 450 GTS Switzerland is known for many things—chocolate, banking, and stunning Alpine passes, for starters. But supercars is not one of them. Hailing from Binningen, a suburb just outside of central Basel, Peter Monteverdi was responsible for 1967’s High Speed 375 and this, the successor which debuted at Geneva three years later. Powered by a mid-mounted Chrysler 7.0-liter Hemi V-8 and bodied by Carrozzeria Fissore di Savigliano, Switzerland’s only true automotive upstart offered a promising alternative to the typical Italian fare. But with a 30 percent higher asking price than a Maserati Indy, Monteverdi sadly sealed its own fate.
10. 1996 Bentley Continental P116 While the Lancia Futurista by Eugenio Amos practically stole the show at Basel, his heavily customized 1996 Bentley generated its own quiet buzz at the end of the hall. Originally commissioned by Harley-Davidson importer Carlo Talamo, this NACA-ducted, rollbar-equipped Conti enjoyed a number of factory mods, including a Cosworth-tweaked V-8 with bigger turbos, a polished aluminum hood, and more than 440 pounds of weight shed. Aren’t precious grand tourers all the more endearing when they’re lovingly transformed into fearsome, track-ready streetfighters?
The post Artistic Autos: Our 10 Favorite Cars from Grand Basel appeared first on Automobile Magazine.
from Performance Junk Blogger Feed 4 https://ift.tt/2D66H08 via IFTTT
0 notes
jesusvasser · 6 years
Text
RM Sotheby’s Expects to Set a New World Record Sale with 1962 Ferrari 250 GTO
When 1962 Ferrari 250 GTO #3413GT rolls across the auction block this August in Monterey, California, it could well end up being the most expensive car ever to have sold at public auction. That’s what RM Sotheby’s, the consigning auction house, predicts, anyway, calling the car “the most valuable motor car ever offered for public sale.” The car is reportedly estimated to bring $45 million (and possibly a whole lot more) after all the bids are in.
Ferrari 250 GTO #3413GT is one of the more storied of its breed to come up for sale. We recently took a look at the private sale of #4153GT for $70 million, along with other GTO sales from the last decade to show these cars’ growing value and how important provenance is in the final sales price of any GTO. The car offered by RM Sotheby’s is an early Series 1 GTO, the third one produced of 36 250 GTOs (and just three more 330 GTOs). Originally a test car at Ferrari, it was entered in the 1962 Targa Florio Italian open-road race with American Formula 1 World Champion Phil Hill at the wheel. Subsequently, the car was sold to privateer driver Edoardo Lualdi-Gabardi who would campaign the car in 10 races that same year, winning all but one where he finished second in class. The successes easily won Lualdi-Gabardi the Italian National GT Championship in ’62.
In 1963, no doubt helped by his racing success, Lualdi-Gabardi secured a brand new 250 GTO in 1963, selling #3413 to new owner, Gianni Bulgari of Bulgari jewelry company fame. Bulgari and the next owner took the #3413 to class wins at both the 1963 and ’64 Targa Florio races. In total, the car entered 20 races in its competition hey-day and not only did it finish every race, the car was miraculously never crashed. In 1964, sometime subsequent to its Targa Florio win, the GTO was rebodied with sleeker Series 2 coachwork by the factory at Scaglietti. Today, the car retains that bodywork, along with its original engine, gearbox and rear axle.
Since its racing days, the GTO has been owned by a chain of enthusiasts, and has participated in many of the exclusive GTO reunions held every five years at venues throughout the world. Will this GTO shatter all expectations in Monterey and exceed its $45 million estimate? We’ll be there to tell you.
The RM Sotheby’s Monterey auction will take place August 24 and 25 at the Monterey Conference Center at the Portola Hotel and Spa.
The post RM Sotheby’s Expects to Set a New World Record Sale with 1962 Ferrari 250 GTO appeared first on Automobile Magazine.
from Performance Junk WP Feed 4 https://ift.tt/2K5LoLc via IFTTT
0 notes
robertvasquez763 · 7 years
Text
At Dark among the Prancing Horses: We Wander a Field of 70 Historic Ferraris
At 10 p.m. on a Saturday night, it’s curiously quiet just up the road from the Lodge at Pebble Beach, which in a few hours will become the teeming locus of this year’s Pebble Beach Concours d’Elegance. Crews are undoubtedly scurrying to finish up preparations ahead of the moment the first automobiles will roll onto the lawn, just eight hours from now, but over on the 17th fairway, it’s practically silent. Seventy Ferraris sit, most of them covered, some by plastic sheeting, some under custom-fitted covers. And we’re just wandering around, taking them in, alone, under the high Monterey fog.
We’d been invited down to the grass by Ferrari North America public relations representative and photographer Michael Shaffer, who’d recently taken an interest in light painting and wanted to try it out on some of the historic cars the storied Italian concern had assembled to honor its 70th anniversary. The affable Shaffer, one of the most beloved characters on the international press-junket circuit, is the lens behind plenty of the photos you see credited to “the Manufacturer” in automotive publications. Although he lends his talents to numerous clients, he’s a dyed-in-the-wool member of the tifosi, and he was perhaps even more thrilled than we were to be out among the cars, left alone in darkness to capture their significant forms.
As far as significance goes, the 212 [above right] pales a bit between the first 125 of 1947 and the series of 250-badged cars that defined Ferrari from the late 1950s well into the ’60s. In contrast to the cars that followed but like its predecessors, the 212 carried a stumpy and pugnacious mien. Younger fans of the marque might find it a bit stodgy; it’s admittedly a car this author has grown to love only as he hit middle age.
This particular example, a 1951 212 Inter, was the oldest car on the field, exemplifying Ferrari a mere four years into its existence. Despite its civilized demeanor, courtesy of the Giovanni Michelotti–penned Vignale body, it’s got legit motorsport cred. In 1951, Ferrari entered this car in the deadly and grueling Carrera Panamericana. Driven by Pierro Taruffi and Luigi Chinetti, the latter of whom would wind up as Ferrari’s very influential North American importer, this little Inter (distinguished from the 212 Export by its longer wheelbase) won the whole shebang. A second Inter, piloted by Alberto Ascari and Luigi Villoresi, would place second. In honor of the victory, Ferrari produced the 340 Mexico the following year, powered by Aurelio Lampredi’s short-lived larger take on the Ferrari V-12. The 212 carries a 2.6-liter version of the Gioacchino Colombo–designed engine, which bowed in the 125 and saw duty for more than 40 years.
Mention the number 250 to a Ferrari enthusiast, and the models come fast and furious: SWB Berlinetta, GTO, Tour de France, Testa Rossa, and, of course, California Spider. The Cal Spider was available in both short- and long-wheelbase variants. It’s an SWB car that was so convincingly played by an MG in Ferris Bueller’s Day Off. But to some, its older brother—the long-wheelbase, Scaglietti-bodied variant—is the more Hollywood elegant of the pair.
This 1959 model was originally delivered with metallic blue paint over beige upholstery, its Colombo V-12 making a reported 235 horsepower. It even has a connection to C/D. We tested this very car—still wearing its original paint—in the September 1959 issue of Sports Cars Illustrated, which, as our esteemed deceased readers may remember, was what we called our magazine back then. Not long thereafter, it was traded in for a short-wheelbase GT, and shortly after that, it was repainted red. Since then, it has been restored a number of times, had its color changed to black, and during its most recent restoration in 2011, was sprayed in the attractive Amaranto hue it wears today.
In the latter half of the 1960s, the Colombo V-12 increased rapidly in displacement, growing from the 250’s 3.0 to the 365’s 4.4 liters. The big engine bowed first in the exceptionally rare 365 California Spider and sold most successfully in the 365GT two-plus-two, but it’s best remembered for its four-cam iteration, the mill that powered the 365GTB/4 Daytona. We found one sitting uncovered next to its short-lived sibling, the four-seat 365GTC/4.
The Daytona competed in sports-car racing, looking both buff and exceptionally fetching in competizione guise. A knockoff version of the Spider variant (actually a McBurnie-crafted fiberglass body mated to a third-generation Corvette chassis) appeared as the hero car during the first two seasons of Michael Mann’s revolutionary Miami Vice. But most important to this publication, a Kirk F. White–owned example served as the steed that ferried Dan Gurney and our own Brock Yates across the country in 35 hours and 54 minutes during the 1971 running of the Cannonball Baker Sea-to-Shining-Sea Memorial Trophy Dash. Fifteen years ago, long before his employment at this publication, your author asked Yates whether a more affordable modern car, like a Chevrolet Camaro or a then-new Nissan 350Z, might do the job just as well. His exact words elude recollection, but the Assassin’s eyes went a bit starry as he explained his continued reverence for the old machine, emphatically noting that he’d happily drive the car cross country again.
West Coast Ferrari distributor and casino magnate Bill Harrah reportedly hated the new 365 Berlinetta Boxer Enzo sent him. He loathed the mid-engined, flat-12–powered car so much that he returned it in exchange for a Daytona that had been sitting around Maranello. The burnt-orange car featured hot cams and rear wheels so wide that the factory added vestigial flares to the rear fenders, making the car a standout among standouts. The rumor goes that Harrah was once approached by a helicopter salesman, who sensibly suggested that air travel would make for a quicker trip between Harrah’s Reno and Tahoe casinos than making the schlep by road. Harrah told the poor sod that if the chopper was indeed faster than his Ferrari between the two points, he’d purchase one. There was supposedly a race. Harrah did not buy the helicopter. That car sold over the weekend at Monterey’s RM Sotheby’s auction for $687,500, which, if we’re frank, seems low.
We wandered across the field, trying to pick out the year of Michael Schumacher’s F310B 1997 Formula 1 car without peeking at its accompanying placard, guessing at which cars sat under covers. We were chuffed when we picked out a 330GTS just by its silhouette under a gray sheet. One particular example of the open 330 remains this author’s personal favorite Ferrari, due to a chance encounter nine years ago. It’s a yellow car featuring a black top and a rare three-abreast seat swathed in blood-red leather, which was spotted outside the banquet hall after the Greenwich Concours d’Elegance. For some reason, just sitting there, surrounded by modern, mass-market Phantoms and Flying Spurs, the convertible from 1967 seemed defiant, radiant, and absolutely perfect in the Connecticut summer night.
On the far side of the grass, wearing a similar hue to our beloved 330, sat a 288GTO, a car obsessed over by a certain subset of Ferrari nerds for its extreme take on Pininfarina’s beautiful 308GTB design. As iconic as is the 308 is to a generation who grew up watching Tom Selleck wheel a targa-topped GTS around Hawaii, the Dino 246GT’s successor wasn’t one of Maranello’s most stellar performers. Italian engineers weren’t immune to the plagues of the Malaise Era and were struggling to make power and shed weight in a new age of emissions control and more stringent safety regulations. Egged on by the madness of Group B competition in the 1980s, Ferrari turned the 308’s transverse V-8 90 degrees, lengthened the car to accommodate the new longitudinal drivetrain, and bolted a pair of turbos to the debored engine.
Its bodywork was a hodgepodge of fiberglass, Kevlar, and carbon fiber; only the 308’s steel doors remained. The result, as was the case with many other Group B homologation specials of the era, was utterly nuts, but the Ferrari had no direct rival on the market when it arrived in 1984. What’s more, it never found itself in competition, due to the cancellation of the specification it was built to, and was ultimately overshadowed by its successor, the vaunted F40.
If the 288 was a thorough rework of the 308, the F40 was an absolute perversion of the shape, as far removed from the 308’s sexed-up take on the 1970s wedge as its competitor for the hearts and minds of young boys in the late 1980s—the Porsche 959—was from a dowdy old 911. In short, if you were 11 years old in 1987, the F40 may as well have come from Mars as from Maranello.
As with the 959, the F40’s roofline was about all that was left of its predecessors. And if the steel-tube frame underneath was decidedly retrograde tech, even for the day, one piece of the F40 heralded the future of mainline Ferrari road cars. As a 911 Turbo now carries a standard all-wheel-drive powertrain and liquid cooling, so does the 488GTB feature a longitudinally mounted twin-turbo V-8 under its rear glass. The F40 looked like no Ferrari before it, and no Ferrari since has carried its blend of brute purposefulness and Italian beauty quite so well. Perhaps only the track-special FXX K has come close. And unlike the 288, the F40 did see competition, albeit only in the hands of privateers.
Its 12-cylinder successor, the F50, looks best under a red tarp. Though it’s often hailed as the progenitor of a series of top-line, limited-production Ferraris, the F40 truly marked the end of one era of Ferrari’s history, while the F50 heralded the dawn of another. The latter car is the direct forebear of the super Ferraris that have followed it, the Enzo of 2002 and the recent LaFerrari. In this class, beauty is secondary to purpose, and the purpose is to package everything conceivable that the company has learned from its F1 program into a roadgoing machine capable of going toe to toe with most anything the Volkswagen Group or McLaren can muster.
Remember, however, that the F50 was ginned up during a time when the only real competition for such a machine was McLaren’s F1, which cost roughly twice as much as the Ferrari. Jaguar’s XJ220 had finished production in 1994, the year before the F50 bowed, and besides, Coventry’s high-speed entry in the supercar sweepstakes offered only a lowly V-6. The 959 was done, leaving the occasional-production 911 GT2 at the top of the line until Porsche’s Carrera GT arrived to do battle with the Enzo. The mid-engined 911 GT1 Straßenversion homologation special was so rare, it hardly counts. During instrumented testing, we found that the F40 largely outperformed its successor and that a pedestrian F355 could outbrake it. Nevertheless, the F50 remains a car of import, a herald of stupefying machines yet to come.
Under the cover of darkness, wandering freely without throngs of gawkers to impede our view of the machinery, bench-racing cars we’ve only read about in books, we walked the fairway with Ferrari PR man Jeff Grossbard, discussing machines that our jobs occasionally afford us the opportunity to drive, even if the size of our paychecks precludes even considering their purchase. One can get cynical about the lofty perch the brand occupies, the wealth of many of the owners who care more about the prancing horse on the nose than the machinery underneath or the history that black stallion represents. But earlier in the week, the true import of the marque had made itself clear to us.
Leaving the Inn at Spanish Bay in a blue 488 Spider, we felt a bit plebeian, preceded as we were in immediate departure by a LaFerrari and a Koenigssegg. In that company, the open 488 seemed about as impressive to the assembled gawkers as a Kia Cadenza. But out on Pebble Beach’s 17-Mile Drive, we’d stop among the throngs of tourists who weren’t necessarily in town for the Car Week hullabaloo. At one such pause along the edge of the Pacific, a retiring 13-year-old boy from London, still growing into his newfound height, cautiously approached, snapping pictures as if the Ferrari might be an unpredictable animal, one quick to flee or attack. His father sized us up warily, hoping his son wasn’t in for disappointment at the hand of a unsympathetic adult. We called out, “Hey, you wanna sit in it?” The kid’s face lit up, though he barely said a word. He removed his Adidas sandals before he stepped over the car’s high sill and proceeded to sit silently in the 488’s driver’s seat for probably 15 minutes, taking in the angles of the dash, the purposeful little red-anodized manettino on the steering wheel, the large carbon shift paddles, lost utterly in the dreams that schoolboys dream.
Wyld Stallyns: The 12 Greatest Ferraris of All Time
Our Favorite Cars at the 2017 Pebble Beach Concours d’Elegance
Ferrari: News, Reviews, Photos, and More
The best thing about a Ferrari—and, by extension, the best thing about communing with 70 of the things at night on an empty fairway—is that it taps in to that sense of awe and wonder that so often gets swept away in the mundanity of adulthood. Whether the first car to captivate you was a 250 Lusso, a 308GTS, or, yes, even an F50, the most wonderful thing about a Ferrari is merely that it exists in the world; that for 70 years these cars have fueled the dreams of generations of children as well as the inner children of many an adult. The racing victories are part of it, surely, as are the legends of men like Chinetti and Lauda, Harrah and Colombo. As is the purple ink that flowed from Il Commendatore’s pen. But to hear a 250 Testa Rossa light off, to catch a glimpse of a 308 on the street, to have the chance, as a kid, just to sit in one of the damn things and drink in the feeling, that’s a good 90 percent of the joy of the marque. The last 10 percent is reserved for owners, and we’re awfully glad the owners of these 70 cars chose to share.
from remotecar http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/caranddriver/blog/~3/4HCJjLbONKY/
via WordPress https://robertvasquez123.wordpress.com/2017/08/25/at-dark-among-the-prancing-horses-we-wander-a-field-of-70-historic-ferraris-3/
0 notes
robertkstone · 7 years
Text
At Dark among the Prancing Horses: We Wander a Field of 70 Historic Ferraris
At 10 p.m. on a Saturday night, it’s curiously quiet just up the road from the Lodge at Pebble Beach, which in a few hours will become the teeming locus of this year’s Pebble Beach Concours d’Elegance. Crews are undoubtedly scurrying to finish up preparations ahead of the moment the first automobiles will roll onto the lawn, just eight hours from now, but over on the 17th fairway, it’s practically silent. Seventy Ferraris sit, most of them covered, some by plastic sheeting, some under custom-fitted covers. And we’re just wandering around, taking them in, alone, under the high Monterey fog.
We’d been invited down to the grass by Ferrari North America public relations representative and photographer Michael Shaffer, who’d recently taken an interest in light painting and wanted to try it out on some of the historic cars the storied Italian concern had assembled to honor its 70th anniversary. The affable Shaffer, one of the most beloved characters on the international press-junket circuit, is the lens behind plenty of the photos you see credited to “the Manufacturer” in automotive publications. Although he lends his talents to numerous clients, he’s a dyed-in-the-wool member of the tifosi, and he was perhaps even more thrilled than we were to be out among the cars, left alone in darkness to capture their significant forms.
As far as significance goes, the 212 [above right] pales a bit between the first 125 of 1947 and the series of 250-badged cars that defined Ferrari from the late 1950s well into the ’60s. In contrast to the cars that followed but like its predecessors, the 212 carried a stumpy and pugnacious mien. Younger fans of the marque might find it a bit stodgy; it’s admittedly a car this author has grown to love only as he hit middle age.
This particular example, a 1951 212 Inter, was the oldest car on the field, exemplifying Ferrari a mere four years into its existence. Despite its civilized demeanor, courtesy of the Giovanni Michelotti–penned Vignale body, it’s got legit motorsport cred. In 1951, Ferrari entered this car in the deadly and grueling Carrera Panamericana. Driven by Pierro Taruffi and Luigi Chinetti, the latter of whom would wind up as Ferrari’s very influential North American importer, this little Inter (distinguished from the 212 Export by its longer wheelbase) won the whole shebang. A second Inter, piloted by Alberto Ascari and Luigi Villoresi, would place second. In honor of the victory, Ferrari produced the 340 Mexico the following year, powered by Aurelio Lampredi’s short-lived larger take on the Ferrari V-12. The 212 carries a 2.6-liter version of the Gioacchino Colombo–designed engine, which bowed in the 125 and saw duty for more than 40 years.
Mention the number 250 to a Ferrari enthusiast, and the models come fast and furious: SWB Berlinetta, GTO, Tour de France, Testa Rossa, and, of course, California Spider. The Cal Spider was available in both short- and long-wheelbase variants. It’s an SWB car that was so convincingly played by an MG in Ferris Bueller’s Day Off. But to some, its older brother—the long-wheelbase, Scaglietti-bodied variant—is the more Hollywood elegant of the pair.
This 1959 model was originally delivered with metallic blue paint over beige upholstery, its Colombo V-12 making a reported 235 horsepower. It even has a connection to C/D. We tested this very car—still wearing its original paint—in the September 1959 issue of Sports Cars Illustrated, which, as our esteemed deceased readers may remember, was what we called our magazine back then. Not long thereafter, it was traded in for a short-wheelbase GT, and shortly after that, it was repainted red. Since then, it has been restored a number of times, had its color changed to black, and during its most recent restoration in 2011, was sprayed in the attractive Amaranto hue it wears today.
In the latter half of the 1960s, the Colombo V-12 increased rapidly in displacement, growing from the 250’s 3.0 to the 365’s 4.4 liters. The big engine bowed first in the exceptionally rare 365 California Spider and sold most successfully in the 365GT two-plus-two, but it’s best remembered for its four-cam iteration, the mill that powered the 365GTB/4 Daytona. We found one sitting uncovered next to its short-lived sibling, the four-seat 365GTC/4.
The Daytona competed in sports-car racing, looking both buff and exceptionally fetching in competizione guise. A knockoff version of the Spider variant (actually a McBurnie-crafted fiberglass body mated to a third-generation Corvette chassis) appeared as the hero car during the first two seasons of Michael Mann’s revolutionary Miami Vice. But most important to this publication, a Kirk F. White–owned example served as the steed that ferried Dan Gurney and our own Brock Yates across the country in 35 hours and 54 minutes during the 1971 running of the Cannonball Baker Sea-to-Shining-Sea Memorial Trophy Dash. Fifteen years ago, long before his employment at this publication, your author asked Yates whether a more affordable modern car, like a Chevrolet Camaro or a then-new Nissan 350Z, might do the job just as well. His exact words elude recollection, but the Assassin’s eyes went a bit starry as he explained his continued reverence for the old machine, emphatically noting that he’d happily drive the car cross country again.
West Coast Ferrari distributor and casino magnate Bill Harrah reportedly hated the new 365 Berlinetta Boxer Enzo sent him. He loathed the mid-engined, flat-12–powered car so much that he returned it in exchange for a Daytona that had been sitting around Maranello. The burnt-orange car featured hot cams and rear wheels so wide that the factory added vestigial flares to the rear fenders, making the car a standout among standouts. The rumor goes that Harrah was once approached by a helicopter salesman, who sensibly suggested that air travel would make for a quicker trip between Harrah’s Reno and Tahoe casinos than making the schlep by road. Harrah told the poor sod that if the chopper was indeed faster than his Ferrari between the two points, he’d purchase one. There was supposedly a race. Harrah did not buy the helicopter. That car sold over the weekend at Monterey’s RM Sotheby’s auction for $687,500, which, if we’re frank, seems low.
We wandered across the field, trying to pick out the year of Michael Schumacher’s F310B 1997 Formula 1 car without peeking at its accompanying placard, guessing at which cars sat under covers. We were chuffed when we picked out a 330GTS just by its silhouette under a gray sheet. One particular example of the open 330 remains this author’s personal favorite Ferrari, due to a chance encounter nine years ago. It’s a yellow car featuring a black top and a rare three-abreast seat swathed in blood-red leather, which was spotted outside the banquet hall after the Greenwich Concours d’Elegance. For some reason, just sitting there, surrounded by modern, mass-market Phantoms and Flying Spurs, the convertible from 1967 seemed defiant, radiant, and absolutely perfect in the Connecticut summer night.
On the far side of the grass, wearing a similar hue to our beloved 330, sat a 288GTO, a car obsessed over by a certain subset of Ferrari nerds for its extreme take on Pininfarina’s beautiful 308GTB design. As iconic as is the 308 is to a generation who grew up watching Tom Selleck wheel a targa-topped GTS around Hawaii, the Dino 246GT’s successor wasn’t one of Maranello’s most stellar performers. Italian engineers weren’t immune to the plagues of the Malaise Era and were struggling to make power and shed weight in a new age of emissions control and more stringent safety regulations. Egged on by the madness of Group B competition in the 1980s, Ferrari turned the 308’s transverse V-8 90 degrees, lengthened the car to accommodate the new longitudinal drivetrain, and bolted a pair of turbos to the debored engine.
Its bodywork was a hodgepodge of fiberglass, Kevlar, and carbon fiber; only the 308’s steel doors remained. The result, as was the case with many other Group B homologation specials of the era, was utterly nuts, but the Ferrari had no direct rival on the market when it arrived in 1984. What’s more, it never found itself in competition, due to the cancellation of the specification it was built to, and was ultimately overshadowed by its successor, the vaunted F40.
If the 288 was a thorough rework of the 308, the F40 was an absolute perversion of the shape, as far removed from the 308’s sexed-up take on the 1970s wedge as its competitor for the hearts and minds of young boys in the late 1980s—the Porsche 959—was from a dowdy old 911. In short, if you were 11 years old in 1987, the F40 may as well have come from Mars as from Maranello.
As with the 959, the F40’s roofline was about all that was left of its predecessors. And if the steel-tube frame underneath was decidedly retrograde tech, even for the day, one piece of the F40 heralded the future of mainline Ferrari road cars. As a 911 Turbo now carries a standard all-wheel-drive powertrain and liquid cooling, so does the 488GTB feature a longitudinally mounted twin-turbo V-8 under its rear glass. The F40 looked like no Ferrari before it, and no Ferrari since has carried its blend of brute purposefulness and Italian beauty quite so well. Perhaps only the track-special FXX K has come close. And unlike the 288, the F40 did see competition, albeit only in the hands of privateers.
Its 12-cylinder successor, the F50, looks best under a red tarp. Though it’s often hailed as the progenitor of a series of top-line, limited-production Ferraris, the F40 truly marked the end of one era of Ferrari’s history, while the F50 heralded the dawn of another. The latter car is the direct forebear of the super Ferraris that have followed it, the Enzo of 2002 and the recent LaFerrari. In this class, beauty is secondary to purpose, and the purpose is to package everything conceivable that the company has learned from its F1 program into a roadgoing machine capable of going toe to toe with most anything the Volkswagen Group or McLaren can muster.
Remember, however, that the F50 was ginned up during a time when the only real competition for such a machine was McLaren’s F1, which cost roughly twice as much as the Ferrari. Jaguar’s XJ220 had finished production in 1994, the year before the F50 bowed, and besides, Coventry’s high-speed entry in the supercar sweepstakes offered only a lowly V-6. The 959 was done, leaving the occasional-production 911 GT2 at the top of the line until Porsche’s Carrera GT arrived to do battle with the Enzo. The mid-engined 911 GT1 Straßenversion homologation special was so rare, it hardly counts. During instrumented testing, we found that the F40 largely outperformed its successor and that a pedestrian F355 could outbrake it. Nevertheless, the F50 remains a car of import, a herald of stupefying machines yet to come.
Under the cover of darkness, wandering freely without throngs of gawkers to impede our view of the machinery, bench-racing cars we’ve only read about in books, we walked the fairway with Ferrari PR man Jeff Grossbard, discussing machines that our jobs occasionally afford us the opportunity to drive, even if the size of our paychecks precludes even considering their purchase. One can get cynical about the lofty perch the brand occupies, the wealth of many of the owners who care more about the prancing horse on the nose than the machinery underneath or the history that black stallion represents. But earlier in the week, the true import of the marque had made itself clear to us.
Leaving the Inn at Spanish Bay in a blue 488 Spider, we felt a bit plebeian, preceded as we were in immediate departure by a LaFerrari and a Koenigssegg. In that company, the open 488 seemed about as impressive to the assembled gawkers as a Kia Cadenza. But out on Pebble Beach’s 17-Mile Drive, we’d stop among the throngs of tourists who weren’t necessarily in town for the Car Week hullabaloo. At one such pause along the edge of the Pacific, a retiring 13-year-old boy from London, still growing into his newfound height, cautiously approached, snapping pictures as if the Ferrari might be an unpredictable animal, one quick to flee or attack. His father sized us up warily, hoping his son wasn’t in for disappointment at the hand of a unsympathetic adult. We called out, “Hey, you wanna sit in it?” The kid’s face lit up, though he barely said a word. He removed his Adidas sandals before he stepped over the car’s high sill and proceeded to sit silently in the 488’s driver’s seat for probably 15 minutes, taking in the angles of the dash, the purposeful little red-anodized manettino on the steering wheel, the large carbon shift paddles, lost utterly in the dreams that schoolboys dream.
Wyld Stallyns: The 12 Greatest Ferraris of All Time
Our Favorite Cars at the 2017 Pebble Beach Concours d’Elegance
Ferrari: News, Reviews, Photos, and More
The best thing about a Fer
from PerformanceJunk Feed http://ift.tt/2gbT84n via IFTTT
from PerformanceJunk WP Feed 3 http://ift.tt/2wFFBZI via IFTTT
0 notes
eddiejpoplar · 7 years
Text
At Dark among the Prancing Horses: We Wander a Field of 70 Historic Ferraris
-
At 10 p.m. on a Saturday night, it’s curiously quiet just up the road from the Lodge at Pebble Beach, which in a few hours will become the teeming locus of this year’s Pebble Beach Concours d’Elegance. Crews are undoubtedly scurrying to finish up preparations ahead of the moment the first automobiles will roll onto the lawn, just eight hours from now, but over on the 17th fairway, it’s practically silent. Seventy Ferraris sit, most of them covered, some by plastic sheeting, some under custom-fitted covers. And we’re just wandering around, taking them in, alone, under the high Monterey fog.
-
We’d been invited down to the grass by Ferrari North America public relations representative and photographer Michael Shaffer, who’d recently taken an interest in light painting and wanted to try it out on some of the historic cars the storied Italian concern had assembled to honor its 70th anniversary. The affable Shaffer, one of the most beloved characters on the international press-junket circuit, is the lens behind plenty of the photos you see credited to “the Manufacturer” in automotive publications. Although he lends his talents to numerous clients, he’s a dyed-in-the-wool member of the tifosi, and he was perhaps even more thrilled than we were to be out among the cars, left alone in darkness to capture their significant forms.
-
-
As far as significance goes, the 212 [above right] pales a bit between the first 125 of 1947 and the series of 250-badged cars that defined Ferrari from the late 1950s well into the ’60s. In contrast to the cars that followed but like its predecessors, the 212 carried a stumpy and pugnacious mien. Younger fans of the marque might find it a bit stodgy; it’s admittedly a car this author has grown to love only as he hit middle age.
-
This particular example, a 1951 212 Inter, was the oldest car on the field, exemplifying Ferrari a mere four years into its existence. Despite its civilized demeanor, courtesy of the Giovanni Michelotti–penned Vignale body, it’s got legit motorsport cred. In 1951, Ferrari entered this car in the deadly and grueling Carrera Panamericana. Driven by Pierro Taruffi and Luigi Chinetti, the latter of whom would wind up as Ferrari’s very influential North American importer, this little Inter (distinguished from the 212 Export by its longer wheelbase) won the whole shebang. A second Inter, piloted by Alberto Ascari and Luigi Villoresi, would place second. In honor of the victory, Ferrari produced the 340 Mexico the following year, powered by Aurelio Lampredi’s short-lived larger take on the Ferrari V-12. The 212 carries a 2.6-liter version of the Gioacchino Colombo–designed engine, which bowed in the 125 and saw duty for more than 40 years.
-
-
Mention the number 250 to a Ferrari enthusiast, and the models come fast and furious: SWB Berlinetta, GTO, Tour de France, Testa Rossa, and, of course, California Spider. The Cal Spider was available in both short- and long-wheelbase variants. It’s an SWB car that was so convincingly played by an MG in Ferris Bueller’s Day Off. But to some, its older brother—the long-wheelbase, Scaglietti-bodied variant—is the more Hollywood elegant of the pair.
-
This 1959 model was originally delivered with metallic blue paint over beige upholstery, its Colombo V-12 making a reported 235 horsepower. It even has a connection to C/D. We tested this very car—still wearing its original paint—in the September 1959 issue of Sports Cars Illustrated, which, as our esteemed deceased readers may remember, was what we called our magazine back then. Not long thereafter, it was traded in for a short-wheelbase GT, and shortly after that, it was repainted red. Since then, it has been restored a number of times, had its color changed to black, and during its most recent restoration in 2011, was sprayed in the attractive Amaranto hue it wears today.
-
-
In the latter half of the 1960s, the Colombo V-12 increased rapidly in displacement, growing from the 250’s 3.0 to the 365’s 4.4 liters. The big engine bowed first in the exceptionally rare 365 California Spider and sold most successfully in the 365GT two-plus-two, but it’s best remembered for its four-cam iteration, the mill that powered the 365GTB/4 Daytona. We found one sitting uncovered next to its short-lived sibling, the four-seat 365GTC/4.
-
The Daytona competed in sports-car racing, looking both buff and exceptionally fetching in competizione guise. A knockoff version of the Spider variant (actually a McBurnie-crafted fiberglass body mated to a third-generation Corvette chassis) appeared as the hero car during the first two seasons of Michael Mann’s revolutionary Miami Vice. But most important to this publication, a Kirk F. White–owned example served as the steed that ferried Dan Gurney and our own Brock Yates across the country in 35 hours and 54 minutes during the 1971 running of the Cannonball Baker Sea-to-Shining-Sea Memorial Trophy Dash. Fifteen years ago, long before his employment at this publication, your author asked Yates whether a more affordable modern car, like a Chevrolet Camaro or a then-new Nissan 350Z, might do the job just as well. His exact words elude recollection, but the Assassin’s eyes went a bit starry as he explained his continued reverence for the old machine, emphatically noting that he’d happily drive the car cross country again.
-
West Coast Ferrari distributor and casino magnate Bill Harrah reportedly hated the new 365 Berlinetta Boxer Enzo sent him. He loathed the mid-engined, flat-12–powered car so much that he returned it in exchange for a Daytona that had been sitting around Maranello. The burnt-orange car featured hot cams and rear wheels so wide that the factory added vestigial flares to the rear fenders, making the car a standout among standouts. The rumor goes that Harrah was once approached by a helicopter salesman, who sensibly suggested that air travel would make for a quicker trip between Harrah’s Reno and Tahoe casinos than making the schlep by road. Harrah told the poor sod that if the chopper was indeed faster than his Ferrari between the two points, he’d purchase one. There was supposedly a race. Harrah did not buy the helicopter. That car sold over the weekend at Monterey’s RM Sotheby’s auction for $687,500, which, if we’re frank, seems low.
-
We wandered across the field, trying to pick out the year of Michael Schumacher’s F310B 1997 Formula 1 car without peeking at its accompanying placard, guessing at which cars sat under covers. We were chuffed when we picked out a 330GTS just by its silhouette under a gray sheet. One particular example of the open 330 remains this author’s personal favorite Ferrari, due to a chance encounter nine years ago. It’s a yellow car featuring a black top and a rare three-abreast seat swathed in blood-red leather, which was spotted outside the banquet hall after the Greenwich Concours d’Elegance. For some reason, just sitting there, surrounded by modern, mass-market Phantoms and Flying Spurs, the convertible from 1967 seemed defiant, radiant, and absolutely perfect in the Connecticut summer night.
-
-
On the far side of the grass, wearing a similar hue to our beloved 330, sat a 288GTO, a car obsessed over by a certain subset of Ferrari nerds for its extreme take on Pininfarina’s beautiful 308GTB design. As iconic as is the 308 is to a generation who grew up watching Tom Selleck wheel a targa-topped GTS around Hawaii, the Dino 246GT’s successor wasn’t one of Maranello’s most stellar performers. Italian engineers weren’t immune to the plagues of the Malaise Era and were struggling to make power and shed weight in a new age of emissions control and more stringent safety regulations. Egged on by the madness of Group B competition in the 1980s, Ferrari turned the 308’s transverse V-8 90 degrees, lengthened the car to accommodate the new longitudinal drivetrain, and bolted a pair of turbos to the debored engine.
-
Its bodywork was a hodgepodge of fiberglass, Kevlar, and carbon fiber; only the 308’s steel doors remained. The result, as was the case with many other Group B homologation specials of the era, was utterly nuts, but the Ferrari had no direct rival on the market when it arrived in 1984. What’s more, it never found itself in competition, due to the cancellation of the specification it was built to, and was ultimately overshadowed by its successor, the vaunted F40.
-
-
If the 288 was a thorough rework of the 308, the F40 was an absolute perversion of the shape, as far removed from the 308’s sexed-up take on the 1970s wedge as its competitor for the hearts and minds of young boys in the late 1980s—the Porsche 959—was from a dowdy old 911. In short, if you were 11 years old in 1987, the F40 may as well have come from Mars as from Maranello.
-
As with the 959, the F40’s roofline was about all that was left of its predecessors. And if the steel-tube frame underneath was decidedly retrograde tech, even for the day, one piece of the F40 heralded the future of mainline Ferrari road cars. As a 911 Turbo now carries a standard all-wheel-drive powertrain and liquid cooling, so does the 488GTB feature a longitudinally mounted twin-turbo V-8 under its rear glass. The F40 looked like no Ferrari before it, and no Ferrari since has carried its blend of brute purposefulness and Italian beauty quite so well. Perhaps only the track-special FXX K has come close. And unlike the 288, the F40 did see competition, albeit only in the hands of privateers.
-
-
Its 12-cylinder successor, the F50, looks best under a red tarp. Though it’s often hailed as the progenitor of a series of top-line, limited-production Ferraris, the F40 truly marked the end of one era of Ferrari’s history, while the F50 heralded the dawn of another. The latter car is the direct forebear of the super Ferraris that have followed it, the Enzo of 2002 and the recent LaFerrari. In this class, beauty is secondary to purpose, and the purpose is to package everything conceivable that the company has learned from its F1 program into a roadgoing machine capable of going toe to toe with most anything the Volkswagen Group or McLaren can muster.
-
Remember, however, that the F50 was ginned up during a time when the only real competition for such a machine was McLaren’s F1, which cost roughly twice as much as the Ferrari. Jaguar’s XJ220 had finished production in 1994, the year before the F50 bowed, and besides, Coventry’s high-speed entry in the supercar sweepstakes offered only a lowly V-6. The 959 was done, leaving the occasional-production 911 GT2 at the top of the line until Porsche’s Carrera GT arrived to do battle with the Enzo. The mid-engined 911 GT1 Straßenversion homologation special was so rare, it hardly counts. During instrumented testing, we found that the F40 largely outperformed its successor and that a pedestrian F355 could outbrake it. Nevertheless, the F50 remains a car of import, a herald of stupefying machines yet to come.
-
Under the cover of darkness, wandering freely without throngs of gawkers to impede our view of the machinery, bench-racing cars we’ve only read about in books, we walked the fairway with Ferrari PR man Jeff Grossbard, discussing machines that our jobs occasionally afford us the opportunity to drive, even if the size of our paychecks precludes even considering their purchase. One can get cynical about the lofty perch the brand occupies, the wealth of many of the owners who care more about the prancing horse on the nose than the machinery underneath or the history that black stallion represents. But earlier in the week, the true import of the marque had made itself clear to us.
-
Leaving the Inn at Spanish Bay in a blue 488 Spider, we felt a bit plebeian, preceded as we were in immediate departure by a LaFerrari and a Koenigssegg. In that company, the open 488 seemed about as impressive to the assembled gawkers as a Kia Cadenza. But out on Pebble Beach’s 17-Mile Drive, we’d stop among the throngs of tourists who weren’t necessarily in town for the Car Week hullabaloo. At one such pause along the edge of the Pacific, a retiring 13-year-old boy from London, still growing into his newfound height, cautiously approached, snapping pictures as if the Ferrari might be an unpredictable animal, one quick to flee or attack. His father sized us up warily, hoping his son wasn’t in for disappointment at the hand of a unsympathetic adult. We called out, “Hey, you wanna sit in it?” The kid’s face lit up, though he barely said a word. He removed his Adidas sandals before he stepped over the car’s high sill and proceeded to sit silently in the 488’s driver’s seat for probably 15 minutes, taking in the angles of the dash, the purposeful little red-anodized manettino on the steering wheel, the large carbon shift paddles, lost utterly in the dreams that schoolboys dream.
-
-
-
Wyld Stallyns: The 12 Greatest Ferraris of All Time
-
Our Favorite Cars at the 2017 Pebble Beach Concours d’Elegance
-
Ferrari: News, Reviews, Photos, and More
-
-
-
The best thing about a Fer from Performance Junk Blogger 6 http://ift.tt/2gbT84n via IFTTT
0 notes
jonathanbelloblog · 6 years
Text
RM Sotheby’s Expects to Set a New World Record Sale with 1962 Ferrari 250 GTO
When 1962 Ferrari 250 GTO #3413GT rolls across the auction block this August in Monterey, California, it could well end up being the most expensive car ever to have sold at public auction. That’s what RM Sotheby’s, the consigning auction house, predicts, anyway, calling the car “the most valuable motor car ever offered for public sale.” The car is reportedly estimated to bring $45 million (and possibly a whole lot more) after all the bids are in.
Ferrari 250 GTO #3413GT is one of the more storied of its breed to come up for sale. We recently took a look at the private sale of #4153GT for $70 million, along with other GTO sales from the last decade to show these cars’ growing value and how important provenance is in the final sales price of any GTO. The car offered by RM Sotheby’s is an early Series 1 GTO, the third one produced of 36 250 GTOs (and just three more 330 GTOs). Originally a test car at Ferrari, it was entered in the 1962 Targa Florio Italian open-road race with American Formula 1 World Champion Phil Hill at the wheel. Subsequently, the car was sold to privateer driver Edoardo Lualdi-Gabardi who would campaign the car in 10 races that same year, winning all but one where he finished second in class. The successes easily won Lualdi-Gabardi the Italian National GT Championship in ’62.
In 1963, no doubt helped by his racing success, Lualdi-Gabardi secured a brand new 250 GTO in 1963, selling #3413 to new owner, Gianni Bulgari of Bulgari jewelry company fame. Bulgari and the next owner took the #3413 to class wins at both the 1963 and ’64 Targa Florio races. In total, the car entered 20 races in its competition hey-day and not only did it finish every race, the car was miraculously never crashed. In 1964, sometime subsequent to its Targa Florio win, the GTO was rebodied with sleeker Series 2 coachwork by the factory at Scaglietti. Today, the car retains that bodywork, along with its original engine, gearbox and rear axle.
Since its racing days, the GTO has been owned by a chain of enthusiasts, and has participated in many of the exclusive GTO reunions held every five years at venues throughout the world. Will this GTO shatter all expectations in Monterey and exceed its $45 million estimate? We’ll be there to tell you.
The RM Sotheby’s Monterey auction will take place August 24 and 25 at the Monterey Conference Center at the Portola Hotel and Spa.
The post RM Sotheby’s Expects to Set a New World Record Sale with 1962 Ferrari 250 GTO appeared first on Automobile Magazine.
from Performance Junk Blogger Feed 4 https://ift.tt/2K5LoLc via IFTTT
0 notes
jesusvasser · 7 years
Text
At Dark among the Prancing Horses: We Wander a Field of 70 Historic Ferraris
At 10 p.m. on a Saturday night, it’s curiously quiet just up the road from the Lodge at Pebble Beach, which in a few hours will become the teeming locus of this year’s Pebble Beach Concours d’Elegance. Crews are undoubtedly scurrying to finish up preparations ahead of the moment the first automobiles will roll onto the lawn, just eight hours from now, but over on the 17th fairway, it’s practically silent. Seventy Ferraris sit, most of them covered, some by plastic sheeting, some under custom-fitted covers. And we’re just wandering around, taking them in, alone, under the high Monterey fog.
We’d been invited down to the grass by Ferrari North America public relations representative and photographer Michael Shaffer, who’d recently taken an interest in light painting and wanted to try it out on some of the historic cars the storied Italian concern had assembled to honor its 70th anniversary. The affable Shaffer, one of the most beloved characters on the international press-junket circuit, is the lens behind plenty of the photos you see credited to “the Manufacturer” in automotive publications. Although he lends his talents to numerous clients, he’s a dyed-in-the-wool member of the tifosi, and he was perhaps even more thrilled than we were to be out among the cars, left alone in darkness to capture their significant forms.
As far as significance goes, the 212 [above right] pales a bit between the first 125 of 1947 and the series of 250-badged cars that defined Ferrari from the late 1950s well into the ’60s. In contrast to the cars that followed but like its predecessors, the 212 carried a stumpy and pugnacious mien. Younger fans of the marque might find it a bit stodgy; it’s admittedly a car this author has grown to love only as he hit middle age.
This particular example, a 1951 212 Inter, was the oldest car on the field, exemplifying Ferrari a mere four years into its existence. Despite its civilized demeanor, courtesy of the Giovanni Michelotti–penned Vignale body, it’s got legit motorsport cred. In 1951, Ferrari entered this car in the deadly and grueling Carrera Panamericana. Driven by Pierro Taruffi and Luigi Chinetti, the latter of whom would wind up as Ferrari’s very influential North American importer, this little Inter (distinguished from the 212 Export by its longer wheelbase) won the whole shebang. A second Inter, piloted by Alberto Ascari and Luigi Villoresi, would place second. In honor of the victory, Ferrari produced the 340 Mexico the following year, powered by Aurelio Lampredi’s short-lived larger take on the Ferrari V-12. The 212 carries a 2.6-liter version of the Gioacchino Colombo–designed engine, which bowed in the 125 and saw duty for more than 40 years.
Mention the number 250 to a Ferrari enthusiast, and the models come fast and furious: SWB Berlinetta, GTO, Tour de France, Testa Rossa, and, of course, California Spider. The Cal Spider was available in both short- and long-wheelbase variants. It’s an SWB car that was so convincingly played by an MG in Ferris Bueller’s Day Off. But to some, its older brother—the long-wheelbase, Scaglietti-bodied variant—is the more Hollywood elegant of the pair.
This 1959 model was originally delivered with metallic blue paint over beige upholstery, its Colombo V-12 making a reported 235 horsepower. It even has a connection to C/D. We tested this very car—still wearing its original paint—in the September 1959 issue of Sports Cars Illustrated, which, as our esteemed deceased readers may remember, was what we called our magazine back then. Not long thereafter, it was traded in for a short-wheelbase GT, and shortly after that, it was repainted red. Since then, it has been restored a number of times, had its color changed to black, and during its most recent restoration in 2011, was sprayed in the attractive Amaranto hue it wears today.
In the latter half of the 1960s, the Colombo V-12 increased rapidly in displacement, growing from the 250’s 3.0 to the 365’s 4.4 liters. The big engine bowed first in the exceptionally rare 365 California Spider and sold most successfully in the 365GT two-plus-two, but it’s best remembered for its four-cam iteration, the mill that powered the 365GTB/4 Daytona. We found one sitting uncovered next to its short-lived sibling, the four-seat 365GTC/4.
The Daytona competed in sports-car racing, looking both buff and exceptionally fetching in competizione guise. A knockoff version of the Spider variant (actually a McBurnie-crafted fiberglass body mated to a third-generation Corvette chassis) appeared as the hero car during the first two seasons of Michael Mann’s revolutionary Miami Vice. But most important to this publication, a Kirk F. White–owned example served as the steed that ferried Dan Gurney and our own Brock Yates across the country in 35 hours and 54 minutes during the 1971 running of the Cannonball Baker Sea-to-Shining-Sea Memorial Trophy Dash. Fifteen years ago, long before his employment at this publication, your author asked Yates whether a more affordable modern car, like a Chevrolet Camaro or a then-new Nissan 350Z, might do the job just as well. His exact words elude recollection, but the Assassin’s eyes went a bit starry as he explained his continued reverence for the old machine, emphatically noting that he’d happily drive the car cross country again.
West Coast Ferrari distributor and casino magnate Bill Harrah reportedly hated the new 365 Berlinetta Boxer Enzo sent him. He loathed the mid-engined, flat-12–powered car so much that he returned it in exchange for a Daytona that had been sitting around Maranello. The burnt-orange car featured hot cams and rear wheels so wide that the factory added vestigial flares to the rear fenders, making the car a standout among standouts. The rumor goes that Harrah was once approached by a helicopter salesman, who sensibly suggested that air travel would make for a quicker trip between Harrah’s Reno and Tahoe casinos than making the schlep by road. Harrah told the poor sod that if the chopper was indeed faster than his Ferrari between the two points, he’d purchase one. There was supposedly a race. Harrah did not buy the helicopter. That car sold over the weekend at Monterey’s RM Sotheby’s auction for $687,500, which, if we’re frank, seems low.
We wandered across the field, trying to pick out the year of Michael Schumacher’s F310B 1997 Formula 1 car without peeking at its accompanying placard, guessing at which cars sat under covers. We were chuffed when we picked out a 330GTS just by its silhouette under a gray sheet. One particular example of the open 330 remains this author’s personal favorite Ferrari, due to a chance encounter nine years ago. It’s a yellow car featuring a black top and a rare three-abreast seat swathed in blood-red leather, which was spotted outside the banquet hall after the Greenwich Concours d’Elegance. For some reason, just sitting there, surrounded by modern, mass-market Phantoms and Flying Spurs, the convertible from 1967 seemed defiant, radiant, and absolutely perfect in the Connecticut summer night.
On the far side of the grass, wearing a similar hue to our beloved 330, sat a 288GTO, a car obsessed over by a certain subset of Ferrari nerds for its extreme take on Pininfarina’s beautiful 308GTB design. As iconic as is the 308 is to a generation who grew up watching Tom Selleck wheel a targa-topped GTS around Hawaii, the Dino 246GT’s successor wasn’t one of Maranello’s most stellar performers. Italian engineers weren’t immune to the plagues of the Malaise Era and were struggling to make power and shed weight in a new age of emissions control and more stringent safety regulations. Egged on by the madness of Group B competition in the 1980s, Ferrari turned the 308’s transverse V-8 90 degrees, lengthened the car to accommodate the new longitudinal drivetrain, and bolted a pair of turbos to the debored engine.
Its bodywork was a hodgepodge of fiberglass, Kevlar, and carbon fiber; only the 308’s steel doors remained. The result, as was the case with many other Group B homologation specials of the era, was utterly nuts, but the Ferrari had no direct rival on the market when it arrived in 1984. What’s more, it never found itself in competition, due to the cancellation of the specification it was built to, and was ultimately overshadowed by its successor, the vaunted F40.
If the 288 was a thorough rework of the 308, the F40 was an absolute perversion of the shape, as far removed from the 308’s sexed-up take on the 1970s wedge as its competitor for the hearts and minds of young boys in the late 1980s—the Porsche 959—was from a dowdy old 911. In short, if you were 11 years old in 1987, the F40 may as well have come from Mars as from Maranello.
As with the 959, the F40’s roofline was about all that was left of its predecessors. And if the steel-tube frame underneath was decidedly retrograde tech, even for the day, one piece of the F40 heralded the future of mainline Ferrari road cars. As a 911 Turbo now carries a standard all-wheel-drive powertrain and liquid cooling, so does the 488GTB feature a longitudinally mounted twin-turbo V-8 under its rear glass. The F40 looked like no Ferrari before it, and no Ferrari since has carried its blend of brute purposefulness and Italian beauty quite so well. Perhaps only the track-special FXX K has come close. And unlike the 288, the F40 did see competition, albeit only in the hands of privateers.
Its 12-cylinder successor, the F50, looks best under a red tarp. Though it’s often hailed as the progenitor of a series of top-line, limited-production Ferraris, the F40 truly marked the end of one era of Ferrari’s history, while the F50 heralded the dawn of another. The latter car is the direct forebear of the super Ferraris that have followed it, the Enzo of 2002 and the recent LaFerrari. In this class, beauty is secondary to purpose, and the purpose is to package everything conceivable that the company has learned from its F1 program into a roadgoing machine capable of going toe to toe with most anything the Volkswagen Group or McLaren can muster.
Remember, however, that the F50 was ginned up during a time when the only real competition for such a machine was McLaren’s F1, which cost roughly twice as much as the Ferrari. Jaguar’s XJ220 had finished production in 1994, the year before the F50 bowed, and besides, Coventry’s high-speed entry in the supercar sweepstakes offered only a lowly V-6. The 959 was done, leaving the occasional-production 911 GT2 at the top of the line until Porsche’s Carrera GT arrived to do battle with the Enzo. The mid-engined 911 GT1 Straßenversion homologation special was so rare, it hardly counts. During instrumented testing, we found that the F40 largely outperformed its successor and that a pedestrian F355 could outbrake it. Nevertheless, the F50 remains a car of import, a herald of stupefying machines yet to come.
Under the cover of darkness, wandering freely without throngs of gawkers to impede our view of the machinery, bench-racing cars we’ve only read about in books, we walked the fairway with Ferrari PR man Jeff Grossbard, discussing machines that our jobs occasionally afford us the opportunity to drive, even if the size of our paychecks precludes even considering their purchase. One can get cynical about the lofty perch the brand occupies, the wealth of many of the owners who care more about the prancing horse on the nose than the machinery underneath or the history that black stallion represents. But earlier in the week, the true import of the marque had made itself clear to us.
Leaving the Inn at Spanish Bay in a blue 488 Spider, we felt a bit plebeian, preceded as we were in immediate departure by a LaFerrari and a Koenigssegg. In that company, the open 488 seemed about as impressive to the assembled gawkers as a Kia Cadenza. But out on Pebble Beach’s 17-Mile Drive, we’d stop among the throngs of tourists who weren’t necessarily in town for the Car Week hullabaloo. At one such pause along the edge of the Pacific, a retiring 13-year-old boy from London, still growing into his newfound height, cautiously approached, snapping pictures as if the Ferrari might be an unpredictable animal, one quick to flee or attack. His father sized us up warily, hoping his son wasn’t in for disappointment at the hand of a unsympathetic adult. We called out, “Hey, you wanna sit in it?” The kid’s face lit up, though he barely said a word. He removed his Adidas sandals before he stepped over the car’s high sill and proceeded to sit silently in the 488’s driver’s seat for probably 15 minutes, taking in the angles of the dash, the purposeful little red-anodized manettino on the steering wheel, the large carbon shift paddles, lost utterly in the dreams that schoolboys dream.
Wyld Stallyns: The 12 Greatest Ferraris of All Time
Our Favorite Cars at the 2017 Pebble Beach Concours d’Elegance
Ferrari: News, Reviews, Photos, and More
The best thing about a Fer
from PerformanceJunk Feed http://ift.tt/2gbT84n via IFTTT
from Performance Junk WP Feed 4 http://ift.tt/2wFFBZI via IFTTT
0 notes
jesusvasser · 7 years
Text
At Dark among the Prancing Horses: We Wander a Field of 70 Historic Ferraris
-
At 10 p.m. on a Saturday night, it’s curiously quiet just up the road from the Lodge at Pebble Beach, which in a few hours will become the teeming locus of this year’s Pebble Beach Concours d’Elegance. Crews are undoubtedly scurrying to finish up preparations ahead of the moment the first automobiles will roll onto the lawn, just eight hours from now, but over on the 17th fairway, it’s practically silent. Seventy Ferraris sit, most of them covered, some by plastic sheeting, some under custom-fitted covers. And we’re just wandering around, taking them in, alone, under the high Monterey fog.
-
We’d been invited down to the grass by Ferrari North America public relations representative and photographer Michael Shaffer, who’d recently taken an interest in light painting and wanted to try it out on some of the historic cars the storied Italian concern had assembled to honor its 70th anniversary. The affable Shaffer, one of the most beloved characters on the international press-junket circuit, is the lens behind plenty of the photos you see credited to “the Manufacturer” in automotive publications. Although he lends his talents to numerous clients, he’s a dyed-in-the-wool member of the tifosi, and he was perhaps even more thrilled than we were to be out among the cars, left alone in darkness to capture their significant forms.
-
-
As far as significance goes, the 212 [above right] pales a bit between the first 125 of 1947 and the series of 250-badged cars that defined Ferrari from the late 1950s well into the ’60s. In contrast to the cars that followed but like its predecessors, the 212 carried a stumpy and pugnacious mien. Younger fans of the marque might find it a bit stodgy; it’s admittedly a car this author has grown to love only as he hit middle age.
-
This particular example, a 1951 212 Inter, was the oldest car on the field, exemplifying Ferrari a mere four years into its existence. Despite its civilized demeanor, courtesy of the Giovanni Michelotti–penned Vignale body, it’s got legit motorsport cred. In 1951, Ferrari entered this car in the deadly and grueling Carrera Panamericana. Driven by Pierro Taruffi and Luigi Chinetti, the latter of whom would wind up as Ferrari’s very influential North American importer, this little Inter (distinguished from the 212 Export by its longer wheelbase) won the whole shebang. A second Inter, piloted by Alberto Ascari and Luigi Villoresi, would place second. In honor of the victory, Ferrari produced the 340 Mexico the following year, powered by Aurelio Lampredi’s short-lived larger take on the Ferrari V-12. The 212 carries a 2.6-liter version of the Gioacchino Colombo–designed engine, which bowed in the 125 and saw duty for more than 40 years.
-
-
Mention the number 250 to a Ferrari enthusiast, and the models come fast and furious: SWB Berlinetta, GTO, Tour de France, Testa Rossa, and, of course, California Spider. The Cal Spider was available in both short- and long-wheelbase variants. It’s an SWB car that was so convincingly played by an MG in Ferris Bueller’s Day Off. But to some, its older brother—the long-wheelbase, Scaglietti-bodied variant—is the more Hollywood elegant of the pair.
-
This 1959 model was originally delivered with metallic blue paint over beige upholstery, its Colombo V-12 making a reported 235 horsepower. It even has a connection to C/D. We tested this very car—still wearing its original paint—in the September 1959 issue of Sports Cars Illustrated, which, as our esteemed deceased readers may remember, was what we called our magazine back then. Not long thereafter, it was traded in for a short-wheelbase GT, and shortly after that, it was repainted red. Since then, it has been restored a number of times, had its color changed to black, and during its most recent restoration in 2011, was sprayed in the attractive Amaranto hue it wears today.
-
-
In the latter half of the 1960s, the Colombo V-12 increased rapidly in displacement, growing from the 250’s 3.0 to the 365’s 4.4 liters. The big engine bowed first in the exceptionally rare 365 California Spider and sold most successfully in the 365GT two-plus-two, but it’s best remembered for its four-cam iteration, the mill that powered the 365GTB/4 Daytona. We found one sitting uncovered next to its short-lived sibling, the four-seat 365GTC/4.
-
The Daytona competed in sports-car racing, looking both buff and exceptionally fetching in competizione guise. A knockoff version of the Spider variant (actually a McBurnie-crafted fiberglass body mated to a third-generation Corvette chassis) appeared as the hero car during the first two seasons of Michael Mann’s revolutionary Miami Vice. But most important to this publication, a Kirk F. White–owned example served as the steed that ferried Dan Gurney and our own Brock Yates across the country in 35 hours and 54 minutes during the 1971 running of the Cannonball Baker Sea-to-Shining-Sea Memorial Trophy Dash. Fifteen years ago, long before his employment at this publication, your author asked Yates whether a more affordable modern car, like a Chevrolet Camaro or a then-new Nissan 350Z, might do the job just as well. His exact words elude recollection, but the Assassin’s eyes went a bit starry as he explained his continued reverence for the old machine, emphatically noting that he’d happily drive the car cross country again.
-
West Coast Ferrari distributor and casino magnate Bill Harrah reportedly hated the new 365 Berlinetta Boxer Enzo sent him. He loathed the mid-engined, flat-12–powered car so much that he returned it in exchange for a Daytona that had been sitting around Maranello. The burnt-orange car featured hot cams and rear wheels so wide that the factory added vestigial flares to the rear fenders, making the car a standout among standouts. The rumor goes that Harrah was once approached by a helicopter salesman, who sensibly suggested that air travel would make for a quicker trip between Harrah’s Reno and Tahoe casinos than making the schlep by road. Harrah told the poor sod that if the chopper was indeed faster than his Ferrari between the two points, he’d purchase one. There was supposedly a race. Harrah did not buy the helicopter. That car sold over the weekend at Monterey’s RM Sotheby’s auction for $687,500, which, if we’re frank, seems low.
-
We wandered across the field, trying to pick out the year of Michael Schumacher’s F310B 1997 Formula 1 car without peeking at its accompanying placard, guessing at which cars sat under covers. We were chuffed when we picked out a 330GTS just by its silhouette under a gray sheet. One particular example of the open 330 remains this author’s personal favorite Ferrari, due to a chance encounter nine years ago. It’s a yellow car featuring a black top and a rare three-abreast seat swathed in blood-red leather, which was spotted outside the banquet hall after the Greenwich Concours d’Elegance. For some reason, just sitting there, surrounded by modern, mass-market Phantoms and Flying Spurs, the convertible from 1967 seemed defiant, radiant, and absolutely perfect in the Connecticut summer night.
-
-
On the far side of the grass, wearing a similar hue to our beloved 330, sat a 288GTO, a car obsessed over by a certain subset of Ferrari nerds for its extreme take on Pininfarina’s beautiful 308GTB design. As iconic as is the 308 is to a generation who grew up watching Tom Selleck wheel a targa-topped GTS around Hawaii, the Dino 246GT’s successor wasn’t one of Maranello’s most stellar performers. Italian engineers weren’t immune to the plagues of the Malaise Era and were struggling to make power and shed weight in a new age of emissions control and more stringent safety regulations. Egged on by the madness of Group B competition in the 1980s, Ferrari turned the 308’s transverse V-8 90 degrees, lengthened the car to accommodate the new longitudinal drivetrain, and bolted a pair of turbos to the debored engine.
-
Its bodywork was a hodgepodge of fiberglass, Kevlar, and carbon fiber; only the 308’s steel doors remained. The result, as was the case with many other Group B homologation specials of the era, was utterly nuts, but the Ferrari had no direct rival on the market when it arrived in 1984. What’s more, it never found itself in competition, due to the cancellation of the specification it was built to, and was ultimately overshadowed by its successor, the vaunted F40.
-
-
If the 288 was a thorough rework of the 308, the F40 was an absolute perversion of the shape, as far removed from the 308’s sexed-up take on the 1970s wedge as its competitor for the hearts and minds of young boys in the late 1980s—the Porsche 959—was from a dowdy old 911. In short, if you were 11 years old in 1987, the F40 may as well have come from Mars as from Maranello.
-
As with the 959, the F40’s roofline was about all that was left of its predecessors. And if the steel-tube frame underneath was decidedly retrograde tech, even for the day, one piece of the F40 heralded the future of mainline Ferrari road cars. As a 911 Turbo now carries a standard all-wheel-drive powertrain and liquid cooling, so does the 488GTB feature a longitudinally mounted twin-turbo V-8 under its rear glass. The F40 looked like no Ferrari before it, and no Ferrari since has carried its blend of brute purposefulness and Italian beauty quite so well. Perhaps only the track-special FXX K has come close. And unlike the 288, the F40 did see competition, albeit only in the hands of privateers.
-
-
Its 12-cylinder successor, the F50, looks best under a red tarp. Though it’s often hailed as the progenitor of a series of top-line, limited-production Ferraris, the F40 truly marked the end of one era of Ferrari’s history, while the F50 heralded the dawn of another. The latter car is the direct forebear of the super Ferraris that have followed it, the Enzo of 2002 and the recent LaFerrari. In this class, beauty is secondary to purpose, and the purpose is to package everything conceivable that the company has learned from its F1 program into a roadgoing machine capable of going toe to toe with most anything the Volkswagen Group or McLaren can muster.
-
Remember, however, that the F50 was ginned up during a time when the only real competition for such a machine was McLaren’s F1, which cost roughly twice as much as the Ferrari. Jaguar’s XJ220 had finished production in 1994, the year before the F50 bowed, and besides, Coventry’s high-speed entry in the supercar sweepstakes offered only a lowly V-6. The 959 was done, leaving the occasional-production 911 GT2 at the top of the line until Porsche’s Carrera GT arrived to do battle with the Enzo. The mid-engined 911 GT1 Straßenversion homologation special was so rare, it hardly counts. During instrumented testing, we found that the F40 largely outperformed its successor and that a pedestrian F355 could outbrake it. Nevertheless, the F50 remains a car of import, a herald of stupefying machines yet to come.
-
Under the cover of darkness, wandering freely without throngs of gawkers to impede our view of the machinery, bench-racing cars we’ve only read about in books, we walked the fairway with Ferrari PR man Jeff Grossbard, discussing machines that our jobs occasionally afford us the opportunity to drive, even if the size of our paychecks precludes even considering their purchase. One can get cynical about the lofty perch the brand occupies, the wealth of many of the owners who care more about the prancing horse on the nose than the machinery underneath or the history that black stallion represents. But earlier in the week, the true import of the marque had made itself clear to us.
-
Leaving the Inn at Spanish Bay in a blue 488 Spider, we felt a bit plebeian, preceded as we were in immediate departure by a LaFerrari and a Koenigssegg. In that company, the open 488 seemed about as impressive to the assembled gawkers as a Kia Cadenza. But out on Pebble Beach’s 17-Mile Drive, we’d stop among the throngs of tourists who weren’t necessarily in town for the Car Week hullabaloo. At one such pause along the edge of the Pacific, a retiring 13-year-old boy from London, still growing into his newfound height, cautiously approached, snapping pictures as if the Ferrari might be an unpredictable animal, one quick to flee or attack. His father sized us up warily, hoping his son wasn’t in for disappointment at the hand of a unsympathetic adult. We called out, “Hey, you wanna sit in it?” The kid’s face lit up, though he barely said a word. He removed his Adidas sandals before he stepped over the car’s high sill and proceeded to sit silently in the 488’s driver’s seat for probably 15 minutes, taking in the angles of the dash, the purposeful little red-anodized manettino on the steering wheel, the large carbon shift paddles, lost utterly in the dreams that schoolboys dream.
-
-
-
Wyld Stallyns: The 12 Greatest Ferraris of All Time
-
Our Favorite Cars at the 2017 Pebble Beach Concours d’Elegance
-
Ferrari: News, Reviews, Photos, and More
-
-
-
The best thing about a Fer from Performance Junk WP Feed 4 http://ift.tt/2gbT84n via IFTTT
0 notes