Ferrari’s Corso Pilota program is as racy as it sounds.
The exclusive driving school offers the chance to score seat time at a world-class racetrack behind the wheel of the latest and greatest supercars from Maranello, and receive expert instruction on how to wring every last ounce of performance from these irascible, high-horsepower brutes. Normally, these experiences are strictly limited to Ferrari owners, but last month I scored an invite to drive some of the brand’s most ferocious machines in anger.
This time, however, was a bit different.
The Fiorano Circuit, the private test track near the Ferrari’s factory, has played host to essentially every race car from the Enzo era to current F1 cars. But I crossed the Atlantic to soak up the vintage magic of the Corso Pilota Classiche program, which this time included three classics: a 1963 250 GT Lusso, 1978 308 GTS and 1997 550 Maranello. The tasty trio represents hallmarks from the brand’s seven decades of sports cars, encompassing a dolce vita-style front-engine V12, a Magnum, P.I.-era mid-engine V8 and a pre-millennium V12 grand touring car.
After a presentation that included tips on driving tricks like double-declutching and heel-toeing, I was pumped to sample these very different, but uniquely sensual Ferraris. But before I was fitted for a helmet and briefed on the peculiarities of each steed, I had some burning questions: Why does Ferrari grant access to the classics when there’s a bigger-than-ever lineup of new cars to peddle, particularly the Ferrari Challenge and GT competition cars that so closely links the brand to its racing roots?
“Of course there is an entry fee, but [the classic driving program] is not a very big margin,” explains a Ferrari representative. “What is important is that many of these clients are also collectors, and they’re able to bring their children or people they’ll want to pass their legacy to.” Which is to say that Ferrari’s new car business might be the primary profit center, but maintaining the brand’s history and legacy represents something deeper and more significant than only churning the latest, greatest sheetmetal through showrooms.
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Every year, motoring royalty — and their multi-million-dollar masterpieces — convene on the manicured shores of Lake ComoHe adds that seat time can be a valuable tool to bolster confidence before driving an obscenely expensive steed at speed in a historic driving event, like the Mille Miglia or Le Mans Classic. For my purposes, the 1.9-mile Fiorano Circuit offered the chance to flirt with museum-worthy beauties at a spirited pace without the threat of external forces — traffic, pedestrians, etc. — dampening the fun.
1963 Ferrari 250 GT Lusso: Enzo Style
Enzo Ferrari was notoriously bullish on the front-engine configuration, so much so that his race cars lagged in competition until he eventually gave in and relocated the engine just aft of the driver. The 1963 250 GT Lusso maintains old man Enzo’s preferred engine configuration, while wrapping an airy cockpit in a tastefully elegant body. Beneath a sumptuously curved bonnet is a honey of a three-liter V12 that churns a bodacious power band that starts picking up in the mid-range and only strengthens as it revs to its upper registers.
I’ve heard lots about early Ferraris driving like trucks, but the Lusso simply isn’t so, as it was intended as more of a gentleman’s GT than pavement-bruising performance machine. Sure, there are the usual quirks of the period, among them crude bucket seats that might get disagreeable on long drives and a massive steering wheel that has a way of hitting your upper thighs when heel-toeing (simultaneously pressing all three pedals to keep the engine revved during downshifts). But on track, the Lusso is lightweight and potent enough to entertain, with lots of tire flex and body roll clearly communicating available grip at each corner. From its giant, center-mounted gauges to the beautifully curved glass that offers a panoramic view over its bulged bodywork, the 250 GT Lusso feels special — not only is it a rare and coveted model that saw fewer than 400 produced, but this particular example has spent it its entire life in the exacting care of Ferrari.
1978 Ferrari 308 GTS: Righteous Vibe
The curvy 308 GTS Quattrovalvole made famous by Tom Selleck was unloved by collectors for decades, languishing as a bargain-basement classic until values started skyrocketing following Enzo Ferrari’s death in 1988, then crashing and escalating again around 2014. These days, 308s and 328s often trade hands for six-figure sums. The 308s were never the quickest Ferraris, but their visual appeal is evocative to children of the 1980s, like myself. Though the example I climb into at Fiorano is an earlier 1978 model that lacks Magnum’s punchier four-valve engine, settling into its low perch makes me feel as cool as a certain mustachioed private investigator. It also makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside (maybe because it lacks A/C).
The 308’s sideways-mounted 2.9-liter V8 feels admittedly tame, but I don’t mind; the transparency of the steering, the clink of the metal-gated shifter and the two-seater’s tiny footprint conspire together in a copacetic way that encourages confident driving. Thanks to the generous tire sidewall on the modestly sized wheels, there’s plenty of warning when the rubber is close to its limit. Having the engine amidships makes it easy to rotate the 308, but I won’t be winning any races here on the track — which is perhaps why I am also given the opportunity to explore the handling limits of the 308 on a wet figure-eight course. Crank the wheel and squeeze the throttle, and the 308 wags its tail on water-soaked tarmac with nonchalant slides. Given my modest performance expectations, the 308’s athleticism proves appropriately tame while its legend looms larger than life.
1997 Ferrari 550 Maranello: Next Level
It took over two decades after Ferrari closed production on the early Miami Vice-era Daytona to revisit the front-engine V12 configuration, and the 550 Maranello marked a spiritual return to the layout favored by Enzo. From the driver’s seat, the 550 feels nothing like its airy antecedents. Apart from the familiar gated shifter, everything is different — you sit within a more enclosed cabin which swaps the timeless minimalism of chrome switchgear and elegant gauges for an experience that feels like peak ‘90s: chunky rubber switches, a monolithic dashboard and a big tachometer front and center that redlines at 7,750 rpm, a heady ceiling considering it’s linked to a massive 5.5-liter V12.
There’s an ease to driving the 550, from the copious power to the light steering and the way it changes direction sharply despite its large proportions. Especially in light of the carbureted classics before it, this fuel-injected two-seater feels light years ahead in sophistication and capability. However, as much as the powerplant comes alive in the straightaways, it feels severely hamstrung coming out of corners. I ask — nay, beg — the Ferrari rep in the passenger seat to loosen the reins, and he relents.
“Don’t tell anyone,” he says as he taps the Sport button on the dashboard, which loosens the aggressive traction control system enough for me to feel the tire-spinning punch of the V12 when I power out of corners. The engine is a revelation for its flexibility. While there are deep wells of joy to be had in the small, high-revving powerplants that came before it, the 550’s effortless torque and long-legged power delivery prove that sometimes, as that old chestnut goes, “there’s no replacement for displacement.”
The Intangible Factor
Running classic Ferraris around a track for a day reframes your perception of speed, and the experience you get out of the high-performance driving experience. Unlike modern supercars that go warp speed and require fighter-pilot levels of attentiveness, these old-school machines focus instead on filling every aspect of the sensory experience with data — the stirring sound of the engine, the delicate design that frames the windscreen, the way the chassis becomes playful and communicative even at low speeds while they negotiate corners. What these classics lack in blistering 0 to 60 mph times and top speeds, they make up for with intangibles that harken back to another era.
While Ferrari will continue to build blindingly quick sports and race cars, the classics allow enthusiasts to take a breath and relate to moments in time that would otherwise become lost to history.
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