Road Test
"Using your vehicle respecting the environment will be your contribution towards environmental protection," reads page seven of the Ferrari 599GTB Fiorano's 198-page owner's handbook. The manual diligently advises drivers to "avoid sharp and frequent accelerations" and to upshift at "only 2/3rds of the speed permitted for each gear" or, say, a modest 114 mph in fifth.
Even Ferrari's PR man had to stifle a snigger. Not because of the wounded English, but because most drivers who are worried about their carbon footprint aren't trying to plug themselves into an Italian two-seater whose 611-hp V-12 has a 10-mpg fuel fetish. That the 599's production rate of about 800 cars per year is unlikely to affect ocean levels one way or another is not important. Ferrari didn't get where it is by skimping on details.
Where exactly is Ferrari? At the top of its game, the ultra-A-list car brand with the ultra-A-list lineup emerging from its doors. The House of Enzo built 5658 cars in 2006, up five percent over 2005, and still the celebrities and the admirals of industry—mere captains can't afford them—willingly bend a knee and submit to two-year queues for a dose. If any Ferrari were worth the white-hot hype, we'd know it after living for a few days with the "cinque-nove-nove," as Ferrari's youngest child is called in its native language.
The two things the peasants ask when you roll up in a new Ferrari are how much and how fast. Ferrari lists the 599GTB's base price at $273,845, plus $4500 for the U.S. gas-guzzler tax and $1950 for delivery and dealer prep. The Silverstone (a.k.a. metallic gray) example pictured here has a whole Lexus worth of options—$41,661 of them, on which we'll elaborate as we go along.
For testing, Ferrari supplied a different 599 than this one, although equipped the same. Minded by a couple of Puma-shod technicians, it reached 60 mph in 3.3 seconds and turned the quarter-mile in 11.2 seconds at 131 mph with the dry-mouthed, clammy-palmed author gripping the wheel. We were unable to record a top speed, owing to a short runway. The skidpad yielded a gripping 0.97-g performance, and the $18,550 optional carbon-ceramic brakes screeched to a halt from 70 mph in 148 feet, nine fewer than an Audi R8.
The 599's mighty acceleration numbers are almost identical to the Enzo's [C/D, July 2003]. At 3953 pounds, the Fiorano is 691 pounds heavier than the mid-engine, carbon-fiber Enzo and, by the factory's accounting, has 39 fewer horsepower. Ferrari conservatively claims 3.7 seconds for the 599's 62-mph mark. So, the 599 shouldn't be this fast, but it certifiably was. Ferrari explains that the Enzo uses five-year-old technology and that the company has trimmed shift times of its F1 transmission (now called F1-SuperFast) down to 100 milliseconds and improved the electronic differential and subsequent traction. Indeed, the 599 doesn't launch with any wheelspin, just a head-snapping slingshot that after four runs produced blistering numbers but furrowed the technicians' brows with concern for the clutch. After that, it was parked.
It's hard to be subtle in a Ferrari, but this slate-gray 599 comes close. The 599's basic shape, a forward-sloping wedge with big hips packing big rubber and a low, fast-moving slip of a roofline, is a sort of Corvette-meets-Supra profile that is both audacious and fairly familiar. Pininfarina's body design makes heat waves of testosterone, but rendered in a dark hue, some of the visual radiance, the grilles and slots and ducts—11 in all—gel to background, even with the $1743 "SF" (Scuderia Ferrari) fender badges standing proud.
Stick a single index finger under the triangular latch to open the door. The 599 immediately whizzes and whirs with the sound of solenoids and electric motors and digital brains warming up. The car never stops making electrical noises, and it sings at you from a full jingle sheet of beeps and chimes. Don't forget the key— ding! Don't get out with the paddle-shift six-speed transmission in neutral— beep! beep beep! Don't move off without checking your General Dynamics stock— DONG!
Cranberry-red leather with licorice-red French stitching covers most of the interior, including the rear parcel shelf ($2418 extra to have it leather upholstered) and the ceiling ($439 extra). There is even a red-leather bootie on the $573 fire extinguisher with chrome clasps that can bite viciously into the passenger's ankle during spirited maneuvering. What isn't swathed in red is wrapped in black hide, and carbon-fiber panels are fitted as a $5621 trim option. The center air vents bulge like the two afterburners of an F-18, and the twin leather straps of the parcel shelf look strong enough to secure an engine block in a hairpin. The over-the-shoulder view is pinched by the rising beltline, but size double-D mirrors supply a broad view. Were this any other car but a Ferrari, we would mention the absence of cup holders.
Warm or cold, the Ferrari starts with a 2000-rpm bark. The cockpit is thoroughly insulated—perhaps too much so for a Ferrari—so drop the windows for the full stereophonic exhaust-note performance. The 5999cc 65-degree F140C V-12 is hot-blooded. Within minutes the giant cooling fans are whining as only an Airbus A380 double-decker aspires to. On the freeway, tire roar is the biggest decibel generator, followed by the distant engine burr and some wind noise. The electromagnetic shocks constantly self-adjust to furnish a cruising ride that is unyielding but surprisingly lurch- and crash-free.
