Even snow cannot hobble brilliant, sublime 458 Italia

Dan Neil

LOS ANGELES TIMES

Maranello, Italy–Snow is a beautiful thing.

Snow wraps a pretty white scarf around the sordid and everyday. It's the stuff of Cascade watersheds, the frosting on Kilimanjaro, the secret ingredient in Telluride daiquiris.

Yet it's not snowflakes that I see drifting into Ferrari's brick courtyard on the Via Abetone, the Temple Mount in this, the Jerusalem of Red Cars. Instead, I imagine I see tiny, confetti-like news clippings from Corriere della Sera, each one telling of an American journalist who managed to plunge a Ferrari 458 Italia into a snowy mountain suckhole.

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Alas, the timing is what it is. I have a chance to drive Ferrari's newest mid-engine V8 Berlinetta, a car that's quicker than the legendary Enzo (less than 3.4 seconds to 96 km/h), with 72 hp more than the mind-frying F430, with a top speed in excess of 325 km/h. A car with a wicked, scything aerodynamic shape, a bloody knife like never haunted Lady Macbeth.

And so the table is set: pounding snow, icy roads and a 562 hp, mid-engine reptile on stone-cold tires.

And yet, surprise, the 458 Italia rocks winter. Here's why.

Sheer aesthetics: The sight of this slinky scarlet sports car against a white background is stunning, eidetic, heart-clutching and unforgettable. These are the colours of Richard the Lionheart and footprints at Valley Forge. Epic is not too strong a word.

The technology governing the car's driving dynamics is astounding. With the 458 Italia, Ferrari has further integrated the control logic of its electronic differential, the E-Diff, with the world's smartest and most supple traction control, which Ferrari calls F1-Trac.

I won't saddle you with the specifics here, but it allows drivers to put down the power harder and earlier coming out of a corner. According to Ferrari, out-of-corner acceleration is up 32 per cent over previous models.

And yet, for me, the tears-of-joy moment comes on a snowy country lane, when I nip into a slick hairpin. The stability system chatters a bit, the world pivots. As I unwind the wheel and open the throttle, the car scavenges every single thousandths of a per cent of available grip.

My God, the sure-footedness, the road-holding, the easy progressive rotation of the car near the limit, the articulation of torque. On 20-inch, 35-series tires in the snow? Okay, that's just eerie.

I'm starting to fall in love.

Steering: With a ratio that's two turns lock-to-lock, the 458's steering – beautifully weighted, light and direct and glass-transparent – is also freaky quick. When the car steps out, as it does when I punch the throttle in third gear on an autostrada at about 195 km/h, it's the merest flick of the wheel to correct.

Also, with the 458 Italia, Ferrari has relocated the turn indicator switches, the wiper and headlamp controls to the steering wheel. These controls are, in a word, brilliant, completely intuitive and ergonomic and so much better than conventional stalks on the column I'm surprised no one thought of it sooner.

Brakes: 15-inch carbon-ceramic front binders are standard on the 458 Italia, abetted by Ferrari's prefill braking system (the millisecond the driver lifts off the throttle, the brake system is hydraulically precharged to improve brake response). The 458 decelerates from 100 km/h to a dead stop in a little over 30 metres. These brakes would stop a charging mastodon.

Aerodynamics: The unholy look of the Ferrari – the broad and low, angry shape, a straining singularity trapped in a red silk stocking – is actually a very precisely engineered mechanism for moving air.

In front, the two grille openings provide cooling for engine radiators; but at higher speeds, the radiators don't need as much airflow and so Ferrari (and styling house Pininfarina) created aero-elastic winglets that bend at speed to create more downforce.

Also, at the leading edges of the front fenders are thin evacuators that, as they vent air from the lower intakes, disrupt laminar airflow on the car's nose, again reducing lift.The falling snow acts like smoke in a wind tunnel, allowing me to see the aero in action. As I pound the gears and peg the rev limiter on the autostrada (240, 260, 275 km/h . . .), I look ahead to see a kind of snowy diverging shock wave. In the rearview mirror I see a swirling vortex tumbling behind, an aching hole in the air where a Ferrari used to be.

The sound: There are many fascinating things about this engine, a 4.5-litre, flat-crank, dry-sump V8 outputting a delirious 562 hp and soaring to 9,000 rpm. It boasts the highest specific horsepower and torque of any naturally aspirated production engine (125 hp and 113 lb.-ft. per litre). It's running at a 12:5:1 compression ratio. It appears to be made by the same people who made God's wristwatch.

But it's the sound – comprehensive, overwhelming, soul-shattering – that I cannot believe. The 458's sound pitch is not a shriek, but a lycanthropic howl, a baying, hungry on the moors. It's a sound that would make the supernatural Twilight teenagers soil themselves.

Perfect? Committed sensualists will miss some degree of adventure, if not lurking danger, the car is so benign and effortless. Gone are the adrenaline chinchillas running up and down your spine. The 458 Italia is spooky fast without the haunting of mortality. Insurance adjusters will feel differently.

Me? I've almost never been as happy as when I returned the perfectly unwrinkled 458 Italia to Ferrari.

I say, let it snow.

Dan Neil is the Pulitzer-Prize winning auto critic for the Los Angeles Times.wheels@thestar.ca

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