Ferrari Group Test

360 Challenge Stradale
430 Scuderia
458 Speciale

OK, maybe one more lap. It would be rude not to. The landscape unspools in a blur as you cycle through a series of conclusions and emotions, thoughts turning to how, precisely, you’re going to fund the purchase of a Ferrari 360 Challenge Stradale. It’s just so, well, animated; so eager to please. End of lap. That was quick. One more go? If you absolutely insist. Honestly, moths show greater resistance to flame. And you haven’t even tried it in ‘Race’ mode yet.

Make no mistake, this is a car born with track action in mind, Ferrari having followed the Porsche business model of transforming a production model into a competition tool ahead of launching a one-make series. Wait a little while, throw in a few concessions to Highway Code-adherence et voila, you have a limited-edition road car. The concept, in principle, is to strip something to its essence, and charge a thumping premium for the privilege.

Except that it isn’t strictly true. The Challenge Stradale, like the other two track-focussed Ferraris seen here, are more than just pared-back junior supercars. They’re a sub-species of Ferrari; ones that in modern day road tester parlance are ‘focussed’. And how. They were tweaked and tailored for circuit action but they also handily double-up as among the most compelling road cars ever made. And, just as night follows day, they were launched amid a blizzard of hype. The thing is, for the most part they more than lived up to the billing, and still do.

It’s easy to forget the rapturous reception that greeted the 360 Modena when it was launched in 1999. With a rigid aluminium body/chassis, efficient aerodynamics and downforce-producing underbody design, to say nothing of its 395bhp, 3.6-litre 40-valve V8 with a flat-plane crank, it was already halfway towards being a racer. It was the jumping off point for the Challenge Stradale, the most obvious physical changes over the regular car being the subtly-reshaped nose, side sills that guided air around the rear wheels, new rear spoiler, further underbody tweaks and rear air extractor. Oh, and 19in alloys with painted-on Pirellis, not forgetting the carbon-ceramic brakes borrowed from the Enzo. The suspension, meanwhile, was stiffened up, power was boosted by 30bhp while wanton luxury made way for lashings of carbon-fibre. All told, the Challenge Stradale emerged some 109kg (242lb) lighter than the Modena, the result being a car capable of 0-60mph in 4.1sec and a top speed of 186mph.

The F430, which followed in the 360’s wake, was another giant leap forward in marque lore. Despite sharing the same aluminium chassis, roofline, doors and glass as its predecessor, it looked significantly different, not least the redesigned tail section, with its high-sited exhausts and grilles in the rear wheelarches. The new 4.3-litre V8 from the Ferrari-Maserati F136 series of engines, provided a thumping 483bhp, but it was merely the opening salvo. A Challenge version followed, which in turn was usurped by the Scuderia. Unveiled at the 2007 Frankfurt Motor Show (Michael Schumacher was on hand to lift the sheets), it was around 100kg (220lb) lighter than the regular model and packed a useful 503bhp. If the PR blurb was to be believed, and there was no reason not to, it could sprint from 0-60mph in 3.6sec on to a top speed of 198mph.

Then there was the 458 Italia which was launched in 2009. Its 32-valve, 4499cc 90deg V8 may have lacked for cylinders by comparison with its arch-rival, the Lamborghini Gallardo, but it produced an identical 562bhp at a dizzying 9000rpm. Ferrari claimed a 0-60mph time of 3.4sec and top speed of 202mph. Stylistically, it represented another leap forward but that wasn’t the clever bit. The Italia’s alleged drag coefficient figure of 0.33cd wasn’t that remarkable, but it’s what it did with the air that was really impressive: deformable winglets at the front bent at speed to direct air beneath the car – downforce at its maximum velocity was said to be equivalent to 340kg (749lb), almost a third of the car’s weight. Oh, and the engine and transmission coolers engaged the airflow to increase efficiency through the matrices before jetting it out the back to improve overall aerodynamics.

The 2013-15 Speciale, by contrast, was more extreme still, obvious visual deviations being the vented bonnet, strakes in the side sills, loftier tail spoiler, forged wheels and bumpers which featured with movable flaps which reduced drag at speed. The engine, meanwhile, received a power hike to 597bhp. This new strain weighed 90kg (198lb) less than the car that bore it, and was reputedly good for 0-125mph in 9.1sec.

Which brings us to today, our triumvirate being resplendent in black – or rather nero - with the obligatory racing stripes (painted rather than appliqué). Up close, the 360 looks squad and pugnacious, those flared ‘nostrils’ evoking the 1961 156 ‘Sharknose’ Grand Prix challenger. Inside, just about everything is clad in glossy carbon-fibre: the door cards, centre tunnel, seat shells and myriad smaller items. The drilled aluminium pedals look similar to those found in the Enzo, as does the steering wheel with its slightly flattened-off top, behind which rest the F1-style shift paddles. The yellow-face revcounter dominates the instrument cluster. It’s nothing if not noticeable.

This being a ‘modern’ Ferrari, the starting procedure is theatrical, if time-consuming: with your foot on the brake, turn the key, pull both paddles back for neutral, thumb the starter button, move the right paddle for ‘I’, take your foot off the brake and you’re away. There is no ‘Drive’ button, but there is ‘L.C.’ That said, launch control is the sort of function you use only once if you don’t want to fry the clutch. In Sport, acceleration is savage; ballistic even. It will change gear in just 150 milliseconds, even if it isn’t the smoothest-acting arrangement. While it may change up or down faster than you could ever manage with a regular gear-lever, you still need to time your shifts accurately. Otherwise, there’s distinct shunting, although you soon acclimatise. And the noise! You cannot believe it left the factory like this, but the blare as you approach the top end is beyond loud.

The steering is super-direct, too. Almost disarmingly so, but what comes as a surprise is how well the Challenge Stradale rides the bumps. It doesn’t exactly absorb imperfections in the asphalt, but nor does it upset the car’s equilibrium unlike some of its period rivals. Or at least it doesn’t in the dry. Prior experience of the model in the wet informs you that the rear Pirelli P Zero Corsas will break traction, forcing the tail sideways before the ASR kicks in and order is restored. The brakes are amazing, stopping you from silly speeds – from yourself – without threatening to fade, but modulating pedal pressure takes a little getting used to.

This is a car that you cannot help but fall for. Yes, it’s hardly the most practical of road cars, but it will happily potter when needs must. By which, we mean if you absolutely must. This car thrives on being caned. It’s like a regular 360 Modena that has its genes spliced with an F40; a Frankensteinian mash-up that gets better the faster you drive. In Race, it’s a whole new world of sainted lunacy, one which sadly there wasn’t time to explore.

Then there’s the 430 (the ‘F’ bit of the nomenclature was dropped for the Scuderia edition…). It’s arguably a more handsome car, the rear end in particular being reminiscent of the Enzo, not least the tail light treatment. Inside, it’s stark and purposeful but there’s still space for electric windows and a surprisingly effective climate control set-up. Bare ally - bare welds, a Lexan rear window and exposed carbon-fibre lend sufficient racer reference points, the ultra-thin, body-hugging seats proving comfortable without pinching.

And then there’s the driving position. With the Scuderia, Ferrari got it absolutely right. You’re not obliged to contort yourself to a neck-cricking angle to see out of it, and everything is in-line rather than offset. Then comes the really good bit. At idle, the Scuderia emits a deeper, more metallic timbre over the regular F430 thanks to the freer-breathing exhaust arrangement. That and the redesigned (and groovy-looking) airbox and air-induction system. There’s 510bhp here – 20bhp up from its sibling –and it sounds a mite angry. Then you notice the five-stage manettino on the steering wheel starts at Sport.

Staying on the nursery slopes, the Scuderia is buttock-clenchingly quick and vocal with it. Some 80 per cent of the 347lb ft of torque is available from 3000rpm. There’s no fluffing, no hesitation, just immediate and inexorable acceleration. Artificially amplified it might be, but the 4.3-litre flat-crank bent-eight is commotion itself. The change-up lights housed in the top of the steering wheel serve only to goad you on, flashing red from left-to-right with each step in the rev range: you want to nail all of them before shifting up. Only the close proximity of trees stops you.

And the gear change… There’s no juddering or baulkiness. The F1-Superfast 2 sequential set-up works incredibly well at speed. As does the traction control which feels intuitive rather nannying. Ferrari claimed that the Scuderia could generate corning forces of around 1.6g which seems feasible. In ‘CT’ with no traction control, it still has more grip than it knows what to do with. Into ‘CST Off’, where the stability systems are completely disabled but the E-diff - where it actively alters the rear wheels’ relative speeds – and ABS is still functioning, it’s positively amazing.

All of which leads you to wonder how the 458 could possibly be any better. It is, though. On stepping aboard, you’re immediately struck by how contemporary it still looks. The seats are figure-hugging, while the dashboard is simply styled, but striking with it. The minor controls are reasonably intuitive at a glance but then most of them are attached to the steering wheel. The view across the Dino-like sweeping contours is sublime.

As with the other cars here, it sounds more flatulent than choral at low revs but press the throttle pedal that bit harder and… Oh. Dear. God. The immediacy of accelerative force here is, if anything, even more brain-scrambling. The 458 just hurls itself forward, howling as it does so. With the wheel-sited doohickey in Sport, there is never a lull in forward momentum. The paddle-shift system works incredibly well. You can pretty much leave your right foot buried and it will change up without protest.

What strikes you more than anything is just how planted it feels. The Speciale never deviates from its given course and, even at high three-figure speeds, it does nothing unruly; there is no writhing through the wheel. The front end doesn’t lift or if it does it isn’t discernible from the driver’s seat. The steering is super-direct and in the corners you can fully appreciate the electronics. Arrive at a twisty switchback going that bit too quickly, and the electronic gubbins throttle back the engine and brake opposite wheels. It just sticks, proffering cartoon-like cornering forces. The ride quality is even halfway decent, with reasonable bump absorption and no creaks through the structure.

What is patently clear is that the Speciale is a much better car than you are a driver. You sense that when you reach its limits, you will long since have exceeded your own. Driving one quickly becomes a case of mental programming: you know it will go around a corner at Looney Tunes speeds but your right foot wavers as your mind tells you it won’t. The Brembo anchors are brutally efficient when called upon, too. We didn’t try it in ‘Race’, mind. We didn’t dare. A damp track and a paucity of pluck ended play early.

As for the vexed question of which car is best, it rather depends on what you’re after. In just about every quantifiable way imaginable, the 458 is the most accomplished machine here. It’s toweringly capable, but the Scuderia isn’t far behind. If anything, the Scuderia is more fun to drive someway south of ten-tenths. It’s the most benign, that’s for sure. However, if push came to shove, the 360 Challenge Stradale is the car you would want to play with for a day, if not until the end of time. It’s utterly joyous to drive hard, and you would never tire of that induction howl. It might render you deaf, but it would be a small price to pay.

This article originally appeared in Classic & Sports Car magazine.

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