It’s still the king of 200-mph GTs
Even though it’s 4 years old, the V12-powered F12 Berlinetta is still the screamingly wildest V12-powered gran turismo ever put on the market.
Our test car came with 10 optional pieces made of carbon fiber to help lighten the whole thing up. Or maybe just because they looked cooler. Exactly how much lighter it is with the optional trim, we can’t say for sure. You could say the chassis and body panels are aluminum but they are actually a mixture of 12 alloys, Ferrari says, making the frame 20 percent stiffer in torsional rigidity than the 599 GTB that the F12 replaces. Ferrari lists curb weight at 3,593 pounds. When you subtract the carbon fiber trim, let’s say it weighs, what, 3,575, prendere o lasciare (give or take)? That is mighty light, especially when you pop the hood and take a gander at that monster V12.
Bellisimo! The 6.3-liter engine is the star of this rolling show. It’s front-mounted like many great V12-powered Ferraris of yore: the 166 Inter, 375 America and the 410 Superamerica, for instance. But it is shoved pretty far back in the chassis here. In fact, it’s so far back that the F12’s balance is actually to the rear, with only 46 percent of the curb weight on the front axle and 54 percent rear. The naturally aspirated engine is also used in the FF but is upgraded here to make 731 hp at 8,250 rpm and 508 lb-ft of torque at 6,000 revs. Consider that with 731 hp and a curb weight of just 3,575 pounds, each hp has just 4.9 pounds of Ferrari to push around. Ferrari lists the figure at 4.6 pounds per hp, but that’s calculated using the dry weight. Regardless, even 4.9 is darn near extraordinary.
Pick any other super GT — go ahead, pick one. Aston Martin V12 Vanquish? 568 hp, 3,834 pounds, 6.75 pounds per hp; the new 2017 AMG SL65 with twin-turbo V12? 621 hp and weighs 4,290 pounds for a weight-to-power ratio of 6.9. You’d have to step out of the F12’s semi-comfortable gran turismo class and into the all-out supercar world to beat it, and even then just barely, and only if you went to the top-of-the-line of the competition: the Lamborghini Aventador LP 750-4 Superveloce has a 6.5-liter V12 that makes 739 hp to move 3,505 pounds of Lambo (with fluids) for a ratio of 4.74 pounds per hp. (The recently released F12 Tour de France is supposed to be 240 pounds lighter than the F12 we drove, giving it a weight-to-power ratio of 4.56, so keep that in mind if you’re GT-shopping.)
No, we didn’t drive it on this race track, but it felt like we had.
The F12’s power goes through a seven-speed dual-clutch transaxle, also evolved from the FF, and thence to the latest-generation electronic differential. Outboard of that, the tires are Michelin Pilot Super Sports, 255/35ZR20s in front and 315/35s rear, which are kept from slipping with Ferrari’s latest-generation F1-Trac Control.
Ferrari lists 0-62 mph in 3.1 seconds, 0-124 mph in 8.5 and top speed at 211 mph. Finally, the F12 laps Fiorano faster than any road-going production Ferrari ever made.
But these are just numbers on a screen. On the road, they play out perfectly. The F12 immediately imparts a feeling of light weight, quick response and remarkably precise steering. You feel all this as soon as you pull away from the curb. In city driving, it feels hollow and stiff, like an all-aluminum Faberge egg, albeit with 731 hp.
The interior of our press car was lined in leather, or cuoio as it’s called on the spec sheet. It is beautiful to behold, like riding inside a really expensive purse. The driver’s seat is manually adjusted except for the recline function, which is power — fine with us, since that saves weight, something that’s always worthwhile. There are no stalks on the steering column since everything has been moved to buttons on the wheel a la F1. That takes some getting used to, but we figured it out soon enough.
Our F12’s interior was all-leather everywhere.
Our test car, having been driven by probably everyone in LA with a keyboard, a website and Internet access, had a fair number of squeaks inside, particularly the parcel shelf just behind the seats. Rear visibility at the corners was limited but not impossible. And the throttle blip on downshifts was a little odd — not always an inspiring sound. But mechanically, the paddle shifters did just fine, banging up through the gears instantly and matching the revs on downshifts in a manner that still allowed some deceleration, which some modern rev-matching, throttle blipping transmissions don’t.
Soon enough, we were out of the big city and up into the hills where a car like this feels at home. The most impressive thing, even more than the amazing power onboard, was the steering. The hardest thing was getting used to that. It was so precise that we had to recalibrate our meager brainpower and forget what we’d previously thought steering felt like. In a normal “car” you turn the wheel and then wait — for dampers in the column to dampen, bushings in the links to bush and for floppy sidewalls in the tires to start flopping. In the F12 those factors seem to be eliminated and the car just turns, right there. Inputs have to be done right or the system’s precision will make your overcorrecting brain force the car to change lines in a corner. You assume there’s going to be some delay or some floppiness somewhere, but then there isn’t. Anyone used to any other car will notice that. It forces you to be a better driver. We’d even go so far as to say this was the most precise steering of any production Ferrari ever.
Then there’s the power; the power is massive — like the steering, you can’t really grasp it all at first. Sure, 300 hp is reasonable, your brain thinks, even 500, but 731 prancin’ ponies? Give us a minute. The power and the torque all peak up at the top end of the tach, of course, so below 4,000 revs, the whole power and torque curves are a little more digestible. But get up toward the F12’s 8700-rpm redline and you’re once again stretching all the definitions of car-ness.
You get used to it, though, and soon enough you’re flooring it out of corners and banging up through the gears on straights. Soon enough you start to feel — if not quite comfortable with this much of everything, at least more willing to exploit it. And you do, oh man, you do.
None of this comes cheap, of course. If it did, everyone would have F12s (what a world that would be!). The base price of an F12 is $ 319,995. But no one gets the base model. As tested, our F12 Berlinetta, loaded up with all those carbon fiber trim pieces and that Rossi Berlinetta paint job, was $ 440,638. Again, you have to recalibrate everything you’d previously accepted as reasonable. The carbon fiber cupholders alone cost $ 3,533. The paint job was $ 26,656. This is a different world, where everything is faster, more expensive and suddenly everyone loves you.
It’s not a bad place to be. Come on in. We’ll drive.
