Memory #458
Maranello, Italia
As we approached the Ferrari's one and only factory, we were greeted with an opening salvo of beauty and passion—a black Ferrari 458 Italia dashed in front of us before bolting out of sight. Giant yellow letters joined together to spell "Ferrari" in its well-recognized font, Ferro Rosso.
Our van skirted along the outside perimeter, passing by the security gate that was letting a factory worker who must have overslept through. The iconic wind tunnel loomed large to our right as we continued by; even the factories and gritty industrial structures have little details and architectural elements that make them more elegant and classy—in this case it was the wind tunnel that was designed by one of Italy's most famous architects, Renzo Piano, in 1997.
As we finished our drive-by tour of Ferrari (nobody is allowed tours inside except owners, sponsors of Scuderia Ferrari, their Formula 1 racing team and esteemed journalists), we pulled up to a shop with a half dozen Ferraris and a Lamborghini parked outside. These were the cars we were about to play a symphony for the Italian countryside in as we tore through Maranello with the V8 of a 458 Italia, the very latest Ferrari.
With an overcast sky I slung myself down almost to the ground as I slid into the hand-stitched black leather and Alcantara seat. I leaned back onto the prancing horse sewn into the headrest as I inserted the key. I placed my hands around the steering wheel and found they rested naturally in a spot that fit like a glove. It was the calm before the storm.
With fear and excitement I placed a finger on the red "start" button on the bottom left of the steering wheel and applied a bit of pressure. A guttural bellow roared through my spine and into my ears. Nothing could stop the grin that instantly told bystanders watching what I thought so far. A quick inspection of the paddles and a flick of the reverse button in the center console marked the start of an extremely cautious start of the journey in a super-car that costs a quarter of a million.
I pulled the right paddle behind the wheel back with a squeeze. Everything in this work of art gives the most pleasing and fine-tuned tactile feedback. The LED gear indicator in the middle of the largest instrument, a centered red tachometer with gold numbers and lines showed "1" in an angular inset screen on the bottom right of the dial that had room for nothing else. Carefully, expecting a lion to jump out and snap my head off, I pulled away.
I had been preparing for a brutal and unforgiving clutch that would bite and jerk the car around but that never came. Gracefully and with the finesse of a ballet dancer the Italia edged forward. Together we pulled out out the street. I pressed the button with a left arrow in the center of the steering wheel to signal my turn away from the direction of the birthplace of the sleek composite machine containing a heart beating with eight cylinders.
The easy, gentle ride begged to go faster so I obliged my eager stallion with some pressure from my right foot. I was instantly pushed back more securely into the comfortable seat and the symphony that erupted floated through the open windows as the wind blowing in picked up. My heart somehow managed to thump faster.
Dark splotches on the road told the cautionary tale of rain from earlier in the morning and I let off the aluminum petal as I approached the back of a car before turning onto the highway. The car rolled to a slow stop as we waited for a break in the traffic to pull onto the highway. Pausing only to switch the dual-clutch gearbox to manual, the 458 kicked me back into the support of the seat as we set off onto the highway; I was pinned to it with the force of hundreds of horses.
The exhaust trumpeted the carefully tuned notes of our getaway song. The song started out with the smooth orchestration of many parts working as one and crescendoed until I pulled the paddle on the right and the LED flicked into a "2" and then a "3" and on up to "5". I still had two gears left. The car that had just flown by us had the favor returned only seconds later. And the grin was now permanently etched onto my face. I wanted this bonding of steed and rider to go on forever. I felt like I could drive for days without stopping. But minutes later I was pointing the nose of the beast back into its Maranello stable.
It's hard to describe the emotions a ride like this can surface but it was pure, unadulterated joy so raw and powerful that you can't help but fight back the welling up of happy tears.
Later (and even now truthfully) I realized I lacked the vocabulary to describe the experience while attempting to discuss it over cappuccinos with the others who had shared the experience with me. We all knew how special today had been even if we were fumbling over hyperbole attempting to try and describe it.
"Today" refers to September 5th 2011. I didn't want to forget the details so I wrote this up on my iPhone that day since I didn't have a computer while I was in Italy, so cut me some slack. All photos were taken with a Nikon D7000 DSLR camera with an AF-S NIKKOR 50mm ƒ/1.4G lens.
I highly recommend watching all of this video if you want to appreciate how awesome the Ferrari 458 Italia is:
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