What it’s like to drive Ferrari supercars (in the wet!)

Four Prancing Horses. 2000bhp. One very wet track

For your average car nut, driving any Ferrari would be a dream experience. Driving four of the greatest Ferraris of all time on a wet track? That would be plain silliness. But it’s what we did. 

288GTO. F40. F50. Enzo. All together, all at the same time. On a very rainy day. On a very damp circuit. 

Cue clenched buttocks, some very hairy moments and constant efforts not to consider the combined value of these fabled machines – which sits somewhere in the region of £5m.

After plenty of sideways action – and a good deal of screaming to go with it – which came out on top? And which did we most want to take home? Read on for all the answers.

Ferrari 288GTO

Venturing out on to the notoriously bumpy Bruntingthorpe Aerodrome, our first steed is the magnificent 288GTO – and, with the rain falling hard, just one thought crosses the mind: “So what if it wants to kill you? Just look at it!”

Built in the days before Ferrari gave its supercars outrageous outlines, this Pininfarina-penned machine was the automotive pin-up of all right-thinking car fans in the mid ’80s.

Ferrari 288GTO (cont.)

Of our multi-million-pound outfit, it remains far and away the prettiest – which is perhaps ironic, given that the GTO’s aesthetics were secondary to its primary purpose: motorsport.

Created to compete for Group B racing honours, some 200 roadgoing machines needed to be sold before 20 ‘evolutionary’ models could hit the track.

Alas, the category tanked and the GTO never raced. But that doesn’t really matter, because it was, by all accounts, an incredibly capable road car.

Ferrari 288GTO (cont.)

If the factory figures are to be believed, the 288 could reach 60mph from standing in 4.9 seconds and continue all the way to 189mph. When it launched in 1984, it was the quickest production car in the world. But those are just numbers.

Whatever the stats say, they do not – and cannot – adequately convey the groundswell of power that comes from the GTO as the revs rise.

Ferrari 288GTO (cont.)

Slip into the hip-hugging seat and it feels like any other mid-engined Ferrari of the era. 

Hit the throttle, though, and things get very urgent, very quickly: as both turbos spool up and the tyres scrabble desperately for grip, 400bhp of V8 power catapults the featherweight machine forwards with an intensity that will feel foreign to those familiar with modern supercars and their raft of driver aids.

Ferrari 288GTO (cont.)

In the dry, it’s a delight – thanks largely to unassisted steering and pliant suspension that isn’t thrown by every dimple in the road. It has poise and balance, too. Apply too much power too early out of a corner and the nose will push wide, shortly before the tail sidesteps as the turbos wake up.

In the wet? It’s still possible to harry the GTO quickly – but there’s an inescapable sense that, should your mind wander, you might be meeting those nearby trees.

Ferrari F40

In reality, the 288GTO was merely a dummy run for the fabled F40: launched just three years after the 288, Ferrari’s 40th anniversary legend was as angular as its predecessor was curvaceous. No remotely pretty, the voracious coupé was nothing if not compelling.

Where the GTO was built to race, the F40 was designed to be a road car – only for it to find track success several years later. It was still giving the mighty McLaren F1 a run for its money in 1996.

Ferrari F40 (cont.)

Not that there was anything advanced about the fearsome machine. No, the pared-back beast simply allied a twin-turbo 2.9-litre V8 with an aerodynamic shell and stacks of downforce.

Even today, it looks like a refined competition tool – a perception that also pervades the cabin, what with its proper racing bucket seats, in-line driving position and cable door-pulls. Unlike your average racer, though, it’s genuinely comfortable.

Ferrari F40 (cont.)

For all the air ducts and racing elements, though, the F40’s track character is easily subdued: despite the heavy clutch, it’s remarkably easy to drive in town.

Equally, take it to a circuit and the ’90s supercar proves less of a handful than the GTO before it. Yes, 478bhp makes life interesting in the wet, but the steering is simply outstanding – the best of the bunch by a long way – and the brakes are brilliant to boot.

Ferrari F40 (cont.)

In fact, whatever its looks might tell you, the F40 isn’t a monster. Sure, it’ll spin like a top if you don’t treat it right but, in general, it’s so precise and alert that you’d have to do something pretty stupid to come undone. 

Ferrari F40 (cont.)

All too often, familiarity breeds indifference but, no matter how many times you drive an F40, you always exit grinning like a loon. It’s utterly beguiling.

Ferrari F50

Following on from the F40, Ferrari’s next effort was its polar opposite: built around the Italian marque’s first composite monocoque, the F50 eschewed turbocharged V8 power in favour of a naturally aspirated, F1-derived 4.7-litre V12.

At launch, it wasn’t popular – a fact that probably wasn’t helped by its unconventional looks – yet today it’s less peculiar. And it certainly has presence.

Ferrari F50 (cont.)

Inside, the simple cabin is awash with carbonfibre. Even the gearknob is made of the stuff, while the dash offers all the right reference points for a racer.

Everything else – from the switchgear to the heater controls – appears to be an afterthought. But it’s a place that makes you feel at home, sitting behind the perfectly positioned Momo wheel.

Ferrari F50 (cont.)

Trumpeted by its maker as capable of delivering ‘the emotion of Formula 1’ for the road, the F50’s V12 dominates proceedings: the quad-cam jewel delivers iron-fist levels of horsepower.

Acceleration is brutal, but driving an F50 is such an immersive experience that the speed element isn’t the big draw. Even in the rain, without ABS or traction control, what’s addictive about this mid-’90s machine is just how nimble it is.

Ferrari F50 (cont.)

Disarmingly accessible for a car of its size and power – with super-quick steering – the F50 flatters those who don’t possess the reflexes of a race driver. It simply isn’t scary.

If you can drive a Lotus Elise quickly, you can handle an F50.

Ferrari F50 (cont.)

Sure, it’s epically fast – 0-60mph in 3.7 seconds, on to 202mph – but it’s not a fizz-bang, all-or-nothing, scare-you-out-of-your-skin rocketship. It’s engaging, reliable and powerful – and it’s the biggest surprise of the bunch.

Ferrari Enzo

The Enzo, in contrast, isn’t remotely surprising: this legendary machine with its legendary moniker more than lives up to the hype. 

When the iconic car broke cover in 2002, the reaction to its looks was one of horror – but, up close, its brutish aesthetic is undeniably striking. And the edgy silhouette isn’t designed to please the eye. It’s designed to be effective at speeds north of 200mph.

Ferrari Enzo (cont.)

Unlike the F50, the Enzo doesn’t have a huge rear spoiler to keep it planted – just a small flip-up lip. 

What’s really clever about the youngest of our troupe is its airflow management, the partially sculpted underbelly and venturi tunnels keeping it grounded at the highest of racing speeds.

Ferrari Enzo (cont.)

Pull down the dihedral door, snuggle into the Sparco seat – with side glazing at ear level – and the effect is of surreal detachment: despite the wheel in front of you, there’s a definite fighter-jet vibe.

From the white-on-red 10,000rpm rev counter to the wraparound windscreen and supplementary switchgear on the ceiling, the Enzo’s cabin makes for a strange office – but one that makes you feel like a hero just sitting stationary. All very Top Gun.

Ferrari Enzo (cont.)

On the hoof, it’s not that much quicker than its predecessors – 0-60mph in 3.5 seconds, 0-125mph in 9.5 – but there’s a feeling of uncharted territory here: its 6-litre V12 produces a blitzkrieg of sonic spasms as it hurls itself forwards, each flip of the paddle-shift delivering yet more commotion.

In an instant you’re travelling at twice the legal limit and still picking up pace, to the point where a two-mile straight suddenly doesn’t seem quite so long. Fortunately, the carbon-ceramic Brembo brakes offer rib-crushing levels of retardation.

Ferrari Enzo (cont.)

More so than any of the other machines here, the Enzo redefines your perception of speed. It’s not exactly effortless, but once you’ve adjusted to the colossal pace, unnerving sense of detachment and come to terms with the super-sensitive steering, you feel at one with the car. 

In fact, you’re almost disappointed that it doesn’t make you work harder: its limits are almost unreal, even in monsoon conditions. That’s progress for you. 

Which is the winner?

Ultimately, there’s no winner or loser here. Piloting a 288GTO with any degree of conviction is like going to a Michelin Star restaurant, only to find every dish is laced with chilis.

The F40 is sublime if slightly scary, leaving you clinging to the memories while desperately craving more – while the F50 is that rarest of things: an underrated Ferrari.

Then there’s the Enzo. Looking like the product of an art-therapy programme, there’s little that can match it for pure mad performance.

F40 all the way

If push comes to shove, though, it's the F40 that steals the show: standing on damp asphalt against grim, grey skies, it still has the ability to astound.

Most supercars fade over time, but the F40’s magnetism grows with every passing year. Sometimes the simplest things are the greatest.