Friendly Ferrari drives back to the future

By Jeremy Sinek

FERRARI went forward to the past for its latest ultra- performance two-seater.

Although the 550 Maranello succeeds a long line of mid-engined machines, it has far more in common with the glorious Daytona of the late 1960s than with the F512M.

Nobody could ever call the 550 plain but it is not flashy either.

Understatement was actually written into Pininfarina's design brief.

There are no wings and strakes and howling machinery to announce that you have just spent more on a car than most people spend on a house.

Absent, too, are the prima donna personality and the brazen impracticality of traditional hero cars.

The delicate slim-pillared roof structure recalls the Daytona.

And like Daytona, the 550 is propelled by a front-mounted V12. The 5.5-liter quad-cam, 48-valve motor delivers 360kW and 567Nm of torque to a six-speed manual gearbox that is mounted in the tail with the final drive.

The manual transmission harbors the 550's only vestige of hero car ordinariness.

Guided by a Ferrari-trademark slotted metal gate, the gearshift is balky and slow unless handled with authority. A shame, because the clutch is a pussycat.

Fortunately, you do not have to exercise the gearshift a great deal, as the engine is tractable all the way down to tick over.

At no point in the rev band does it ever feel as if it has fallen off the power band.

Nonetheless, there is one. Keep the pedal planted and a fluent surge begins at 4,000 rpm, building to a crescendo in a final kick at about 6,500 that hurls the tacho needle at the rev- limiter faster than you can think "change up".

Like many normally balky shifts, the 550's is fast and accurate under the rigors of full-bore acceleration testing.

What does limit its ultimate sprinting ability is traction, or the lack thereof.

Switched on, the traction control system allows no launch wheel spin and drag-strip times suffer accordingly.

Cancel the traction control, and no matter how gently you dump the clutch, the rear tires break loose in a fury of wheel spin that forces you to back off the throttle to avoid over-revving.

Snatch second and there is another flare of wheel spin before traction finally catches up with torque and the all 485 horses can be fully deployed to the tarmac.

At which point, the 550 is now gaining speed at a rate that makes even other supercars seem leaden. The magic metric ton, 100km/h, comes up in 4.7 seconds. The 400-meter post flashes by in 12.8 seconds, 190km/h on the speedo and still accelerating dementedly.

Yet something is missing from the experience.

Where is the high-winding exhaust and intake wail of a Ferrari V12 in full song? Strict European noise-emission laws have muted one of autodom's finest sounds to a characterless mechanical grinding sound.

Even on perfectly dry pavement, 500-odd horsepower deployed through two lightly laden rear wheels can be a recipe for disaster in the hands of the unskilled or the unwary.

Full credit to Ferrari for including traction control.

More credit for also letting you switch it off, the better to savor the joys of classic front-engine, rear-drive handling.

Power steering that is unusually direct, as well as accurate and naturally weighted, makes for easy urban maneuverability plus reliable feedback when driving aggressively.

Power slides are always there for the asking, but the formula is easy to understand: some power equals some oversteer; more power equals more oversteer; too much power equals a spin.

If you do not trust yourself, leave the traction control on and the 550 simply goes where you point it -- no lurch, no tire squeal, more grip than you know what to do with.

The suspension admits some harshness and tire patter over broken pavement at low speeds, but larger, more rounded bumps inflict minimal trauma. And the faster you go, the better it gets.

Brake pedal modulation could be better -- in gentle braking it is hard to apply and release the binders smoothly -- but in simulated crisis stops the 550 stops as short as anything.

So much for the 550's street smarts.

Take a look around the 550's cabin and there is little Italian idiosyncrasy. You can get comfortable in it. You can see out of it.

From the driver's seat it feels small and easy to place on the road.

Tilt-and-telescopic steering plus a wide range of every-which- way electric seat adjustment should ensure at-the-wheel comfort for almost anybody, except perhaps the very lanky who might lack headroom.

Lights and wipers are switched by a pair of column stalks just like in a Toyota Corolla and the unobtrusively efficient climate control is regulated by slick rotary knobs. Ergonomic glitches are few, and minor in nature.

In a perverse sort of way, the 550 is almost too good for its own good.

Somehow we have come to expect the worst from the cars that cost the most, yet for all its pulverizing performance this Ferrari is so user-friendly that it almost seems ordinary.

The only way to shake that delusion is to put your foot down hard, and often.