
Open Arms
It's a hell of an idea, but can any car live up to
the F50's expectations? Joanne and Roberto find
out at Fiorano.
A piercing shriek shreds the air as the
blood-red Ferrari ducks behind the columns of gray smoke that
pour from its wheelwells. Then it hooks up and
bang, it's gone: Tendrils of that same acrid smoke are instantly jostled
into vortices by the wake of the now-absent F50, bearing
witness to the stunning speed of Ferrari's latest flagship.
This, ladies and gentlemen, is the Ferrari F50 in
full assault mode. Dario Benuzzi - Ferrari's chief test
driver and all-around living legend - is showing me how to
thrash the living daylights out of this very expensive, very sophisticated and very red piece of kit, and part of
the lesson includes a demonstration of the V12's brutal power. It also proves the effectiveness of the
rev-limiter, as Dario casually winds the engine out to redline and changes its screaming banshee wail to
a staccato stuttering of barks.
This car is much more than a successor to the late, lamented F40. Like that earlier machine,
the F50 is supposed to commemorate a major anniversary of Ferrari's entrance into manufacturing and
represent the pinnacle of its achievements in turning racing cars into road cars. But while the F40 lived in
the aftermath of Formula One's turbo age - and therefore used a small-displacement V8 packing two
intercooled turbochargers to develop a huge 478 bhp - the even-more sophisticated F50 honors its normally
aspirated, V12-powered forebears of the post-turbo era.
As Ferrari President Luca de Montezemolo is never reticent to underline (in fact he speaks of
little else), the F50 was conceived from the get-go as an F1 car for the road. The wheels don't poke out on
wisp-like suspension arms and there's commodious seating for two inside, but the rest of the car's
specifications are remarkably similar to those of the firm's early-'90s Grand Prix designs - which means it's also
startlingly similar to the current 333SP WSC sports-racer, whose development has closely paralleled
the F50's.
Apart from a couple of refinements made for road use - like more forgiving diagonal
suspension pushrods and a displacement bump from 3.5 to 4.7 liters - it's easy to see the family resemblance. The
F50 is built around an immensely rigid carbon fiber monocoque and uses the engine as a stressed member
of the chassis. The main tub weighs just 224 pounds and mounts its mechanicals off light-alloy
inserts bonded directly into the structure. The rear suspension wishbones attach to the bellhousing between
the engine and gearbox, and the front wishbones mate right to the chassis. Most telling of all, there are
no namby-pamby rubber bushings to be seen anywhere in the assembly - ultimately, just a massive set
of track-worthy rose joints separates the tires from the driver.
The entire suspension system is closely patterned on that used in Ferrari's '83-'84 F1 car, but
the front components feature an additional civilizing touch in the form of a pump to increase the ride
height by a couple of inches and thus hoist the vulnerable front spoiler over offending ramps and bumps.
Once road speed passes 40 mph it all settles back down to normal, however, and that means a road-scraping
ride and rebound control that stiffens to formula-car standards. To reduce unsprung mass the wheel hubs
are titanium, and the rears have been made particularly compact to allow longer driveshafts - reducing
the shaft's angle of attack limits power loss when transmitting torque through the rear tires.
Front and rear suspension travel is extremely limited; total excursion is just 53mm (about
two inches), but Ferrari's latest development of electronic damping, already seen on the 456GT, means
the ride isn't the knobbly washboard you'd expect. Up to about 25 mph the F50 is pliant and supple, but
over that speed the central CPU cranks up the variable-rate shock absorbers' stiffness based on a map
comparing road speed, lateral and longitudinal acceleration, and steering-wheel angle. But it all stays
creamy smooth, guaranteeing clam-tight body control and unflustered comfort.
All this race-ready hardware results in steering and high-speed
handling so precise and burly that many drivers not used to serious racing machinery
will at first be put off. Depending on conditions, one encounters friendly initial
understeer (tight low-speed corners) or blinding quickness and willing turn-in
(everywhere else). Chassis development engineer Carlo Della Casa merely
states that all the F1 concepts are present and accounted for, albeit modified and
ameliorated to ensure driveability; what happens after that is up to the skill,
daring and mood of the F50 owner.
Of course the real heart of the matter, as ever with Ferrari, lies in the engine bay. Probably
the F50's one greatest appeal for posterity is the idea of sitting in close company with the direct descendent of a Formula One engine. Ferrari's 3.5-liter racing engine was brought out to 4.7 mostly by lengthening
the stroke, and the materials used in its construction are virtually identical to those of the racing mill.
The crankshaft runs on seven main bearings in a nodular cast-iron block with integral Nickasil-coated
liners, forged aluminum pistons and titanium rods. The gasketless heads are tuned for an extremely high
compression ratio of 11.3:1, and Ferrari's variable-geometry intake and exhaust tracts optimize torque at
low revs and reduce backpressure toward redline. A 65-degree V12 with five valves per cylinder, the engine
is largely a derivation of the 333SP's 4-liter mill, which in turn mirrors Ferrari's early-'94 F1
powerplant. The maximum power of 520 bhp arrives at 8500 rpm, while a torque peak of 347 lbs.-ft. comes in at 6500.
Keeping all of that power in check are four massive discs developed specifically for the F50
by Brembo, 14-inchers in front and 13.2s in back. All boast crossdrilling, venting and 4-pot
aluminum calipers, though surprisingly there's neither a brake servo nor ABS included. (The faint of heart need
not apply.) The tires, meanwhile, are a special brew from Goodyear developed by the same engineering
team responsible for Ferrari's F1 footwear. Normal racing rubber features a stiff 4-ply carcass: These
"Fiorano GSs" boast a 5-ply 335/30ZR18 at the rear and a 6-ply 245/35 up front. Mind you, Goodyear didn't get
it right first time: The first batch they made stuck to wet pavement about as well as a dead mackerel.
But now the F50 generates a staggering
1.14g on the constant-radius skidpad and up to
1.3g in transient maneuvers. Even compared to an F1 car's
2.3g that's not bad. The old F40 could manage about .98.
This combination of handling finesse, power and traction produce some outstanding results on
the track. In outright performance terms this car doesn't make that big a leap beyond the stomping F40 -
top speed goes up just three mph (to 202) and the 0-60 run shaves only a couple of tenths off to earn a
3.7. What really counts is lap times, however, and here a circuit of Fiorano finds the F50 over three
seconds faster than the catalyzed F40.
Fundamental to the car's balance and performance are its aerodynamics. At first you'd think
Ferrari could have bettered a Cd of .37, especially as the F50 sports a full undertray and a claimed 3000 hours
of windtunnel testing. This figure reflects a new racecar-like design policy which puts downforce and
balance ahead of top-speed slipperiness, however. At 186 mph the bodywork generates 242 pounds of
downforce up front and 440 pounds at the rear. Chief Engineer Amadeo Felisa points out that the F50 will lap
Nardo flat-out with the driver's hands off the wheel.
In addition to a 333SP-style undertray and diffuser tunnels, the F50 also features Ferrari's
first convertible hardtop in ages. The conversion from closed berlinetta to open roadster is a fairly simple
half-hour job primarily requiring the exchange of the rear central bodywork. This task is not recommended
for DIYers, however; making sure the safety rollbars are properly installed calls for expert
attention.
So much for the old technical in and out: How's this poetry in motion? Does all of
Ferrari's engineering-speak translate into the romance, fury and passion that should ride with the marque's
definitive road car?
Well, let's see. Visually, all of the F50's dynamic punch is
concentrated in its aggressive, nostril-laden nose. This feature creates a
demonically pronounced scowl that sends left-lane dawdlers ahead
of you diving for the bushes in abject terror. The longitudinal
Twelve forces an extremely cab-forward design, however, and this tends
to emphasize the rather empty flanks and overlong rear bodywork.
Even with their rounded and sculpted F40 overtones, this car's
compact lines have true emotional impact only when seen from the high
3/4 angles.
If not in its body, however, the F50's true beauty lies in its soul. As if to underline the promise
of Ferrari's road-ready F1 car, there's next to nothing in the cockpit: The
modus operandi here was that if it weighs anything, junk it.
Thus, knobbly plastic will do just fine for the floorboards, thank you, and the dash will make
do with a bare minimum of switchgear. Just two benign-looking buttons can be found to the right of
the steering wheel, and these are used to control a horde of computer infobytes displayed on the main LCDs.
Besides making a decent cuppa, the F50's on-board computer can record tons of
information throughout its lifespan - everything from owners' names and service records to statistical data
regarding how the car has been used. For better or worse, maximum revs, speeds reached, how often each gear
has been selected, and so on can be downloaded from this central electronic brain. The F50's think tank
can also plug into the telemetry systems of major tracks the whole world over, though the software required
to do so is far too sophisticated for most owners to tackle.
The push-button starter below the ignition key is enough to give any car nut a thrill, but then so
is the carbon fiber-topped gearlever, the tiny, 6-speed chrome gate and the pukka floor-hinged pedals.
On firing this beast up you expect all manner of mechanical incivility, particularly having
heard the car bark and scream around Fiorano. You also know you'll be bolted directly to twelve cylinders
once you've strapped on the F50; just a modicum of metal and plastic, a few sheets of foam padding and a
layer of Connolly leather isolate your nether regions from 520 horses of race-bred Italian brio.
The powerplant chatters and resonates noticeably at idle, but the volume is fairly discreet and
the vibration proves more a comfortable presence than a buzzy intrusion. That's the first surprise. The
second is that the F50's engine runs remarkably smoothly overall - the total lack of rubberized engine
mounts only becomes evident at low revs, when the chassis echoes to the gravelly rumble of the
chain-driven cams and timing gear. Velvety
may never be a word that springs to mind in this car, but at any speed
over 2500 rpm the zinging V12 is remarkably free from harshness. There's also no unruly kickback from
the suspension, underscoring Ferrari's success in taming the usually unacceptable hardmounts of a racecar
for street use.
Even so, Luca de Montezemolo sees the F50 buyer as "A special kind of
Ferrarista - a tougher type who wants to feel he's at the wheel of a Formula One car." This explains away the rawness of
the rigidly mounted power package and the razor-sharpness of the steering, but in truth Ferrari has
also decided that much of this car's appeal must lay in its ease of road use - something the hairier (and
some would say purer) F40 couldn't offer.
To find out the results of designing to such crossed purposes takes just half a lap of Fiorano.
While Ferrari's other current cars offer major improvements in feel and feedback over their predecessors, the
F50 takes this progression to an entirely new level. Weighting at the major controls is nothing short of
superbthe clutch particularly, as it imparts an almost tangible sensation of polished metal acting
upon metal. The binders come off a little mushy to begin with, meanwhile, but out on the track they
prove delectably succinct and accurate. The brake pedal also makes a marvelously firm pivot point for
smiting the neighboring throttle during heel-and-toe shifting. There's no panic-invoking nosedive as the
calipers clamp the discs, just outstanding retardation that has you pining for the optional 4-point harnesses.
At 125 mph, my doubts about shunning ABS evaporate as I overcook it coming into the kink at
the end of the main straight. This major driver error transforms itself into a benignly controlled runoff as
the brakes quickly haul the car down on both pavement and grass - unimpeachable evidence of the
F50's superb chassis balance. The gearbox, too, is fantastic; swift, light strokes belie the length of the
linkage rods and the number of kinks they must perform to reach the Ferrari's lengthy rump.
The steering and front suspension also impress for their feel, although Fiorano tends to
highlight the F50's user-friendly understeer and rather low gearing. Feedback through the wheel is excellent,
and this proves critical to defining the zealous turn-in through fast corners. You can sense the exact position
of the tires at every point through the bend, and the steering is communicative all the way out - a unique
trait in a road car.
The flow of power from the 520-horse V12 is as seamless as it is enthusiastic. Just where
the torque peak really lives proves difficult to determine: The plateau is vastly broad, and the LCD
readout can't be read in direct sunlight! In surprising opposition to the manic, race-bred shriek the F50 emits
on the outside, however, the sound behind the wheel is a lot like what you hear during on-board images
from
F1. The dominant engine note is a gritty bass rumble, while the scream and buzz of valvegear and
cams stridently overcome all when the needle closes in on the 8000-rpm yellowline.
It's a monster of a sound, and one that leaves no doubt whatsoever as to the source of the heat
that is soon caressing your bonk. At speed the powertrain funnels energy in from the rear while even hotter
air spills out from the radiators and flows in around the A-pillars. Even so, you certainly can't buy a
more comfortable or usable machine with such pure-bred responses.
McLaren's valiant effort is a slightly softer package, albeit one conceptually just as
adventurous. Thus, for the time being at least, the competition is once again forced to better Ferrari's best.
SPECIFICATIONS
1996 Ferrari F50
General
Vehicle type: mid-engine, rear-wheel-drive convertible coupe
Structure: composite monocoque with stressed powertrain and composite body panels
Market as tested: Italy
MSRP: $475,000+
Airbag: none
Engine
Type: longitudinal V12, iron block and aluminum heads
Displacement (cc): 4700
Compression ratio: 11.3:1
Power (bhp): 520 @ 8500 rpm
Torque (lbs. ft.): 347 @ 6500 rpm
Intake system: SEFI
Valvetrain: three intake and two exhaust valves per cylinder, two cams per bank
Transmission type: 6-speed
Dimensions
Dry weight (lbs.): 2712
Track, f/r (in.): 63.8/63.1
Length (in.): 176.4
Width (in.): 78.2
Suspension, brakes, steering
Suspension, front: Double wishbones with pushrod-actuated coil springs, active shock absorbers
and antiroll bar
Suspension, rear: Double wishbones with pushrod-actuated coil springs, active shock absorbers
and antiroll bar
Steering type: rack and pinion
Wheels, f&r (in.): 18x8.5 & 18x13 (Speedline)
Tires, f&r: 245/35ZR18 & 335/30ZR18 (Goodyear GS Fiorano)
Brakes, f&r: 14-inch vented disc. 13.2-inch vented disc
ABS: none
Performance
0-60 (sec.): 3.7
Top speed (mph): 202
Contact
Ferrari North America Inc.
250 Sylvan Avenue
Englewood Cliffs NJ 07632
fax (201) 816-2626