Enemy at the gate: We play judge in a grudge match that's been simmering for 39 years, and drive both these cars side by side in the hills south of Maranello.
It's a grudge match that's been simmering for 39 years. On June 19, 1966, a trio of Ford GT40 MkII race cars crossed the finish line at the 24 hours of Le Mans in first, second, and third place, ending Scuderia Ferrari's six-year winning streak. Some say that not since that famous upset has Ford produced a road car worthy of breathing the same sacred, exotic air as a Ferrari, much less take the wind out of one. Like all grudges that require patience and more potent ammunition to reach a definitive climax, we had to wait for just the right combination of cars and firepower to put them in the same arena, and let the tire clag fly.
Billed as "the pace car for an entire company," the 550-horsepower Ford GT has already rejuvenated an automaker asleep at the wheel. But to be elevated to the next level -- to true supercar status -- it must work in the real world and the "old world" where the Ferrari was born. That's why we arranged to have Ford U.K. deliver a GT around the corner from one of the most famous gates in the world. There's St. James's gate at the Guinness factory in Dublin, Ireland; Cristo's evanescent gates in Central Park; and then there's "The Historical Gate" located at Via Abetone Inferiore N 4 in Maranello, Italy. To the tifosi, that address is sacrosanct.
To the rest of us, it's the very gate through which Enzo Ferrari himself would go to work every morning, and out of which have been issued some of the most revered automobiles the world has known. Granted, our friends at Ferrari had full knowledge of our intentions and had a fresh 2005 F430 F1warmed and awaiting our arrival. The cooperation on both sides of this comparison was unprecedented in the history of semi-clandestine magazine craft. It almost took the fun out of it when Ferrari communications invited our supporting Ford engineer out to dinner with us the night before instrumented testing was to occur. Beyond genuine Italian hospitality, this gracious act showed a measured confidence that all would go well for Ferrari.
Our first day was set aside for photography and switchback dog fights in the hills south of Maranello--the same roads on which Ferrari sometimes tests its own cars. It's no wonder then that the 483-horsepower F430 felt at home. In the Ferrari, there's so much tactile information streaming through the steering wheel to the driver's hands that a blind man could determine the surface texture beneath the car, the available grip, and the instantaneous headings of front and rear axles. The amazing part is that it's all useful information, not bothersome road noise or suspension clatter -- like in the 360 Challenge Stradale. The crispness of the 360 CS is there, the harshness isn't. Sight lines are exceptionally good in the light and airy cabin with thin pillars and there's a gorgeous view in the rear-view mirror of a screaming V-8 behind the driver's head.
Also with his fingertips, the Ferrari's driver can trigger consistently miraculous matched-rev downshifts like unloading a semi-automatic weapon. Under full-ABS braking, the F430's now state-of-the-art F1-style (electronically controlled, hydro-mechanically actuated) manual transaxle becomes a tool in the dispatch of corners. Hard on the carbon-ceramic binders from triple digits, a driver can easily click down two gears with both hands still on the wheel while turning in, then roll on the gas as he unwinds the steering. It's mechanico-magic, and it does it to perfection every time. Even in "auto" mode, the newest F1 system is sensitive and intelligent enough to know the difference between a lazy traffic upshift and 0.21-second race-pace shift we'd later measure. When asked how many generations ahead the F430's shift-logic software is beyond the 2005 Maserati Quattroporte, Ferrari answered, "Two, perhaps three." It shows how good the system can be and reveals a corporate pecking order. Ferrari is still Alpha.