Is the F40 Ferrari at its red-blooded best?

Why the F40? I like beautiful cars. I like ones with interesting links to motorsport, perhaps inspired by homologation or some other direct bloodline. An Aston Martin DB4 GT Zagato, Porsche 911 2.7 RS or similar race-inspired rarity would hit both requirements. As would the F40’s inspiration and close relation, the 288 GTO.

Although it did eventually compete the F40 wasn’t designed as a racing car. And it’s definitely not conventionally pretty. I’ve never actually driven one but I have sat in them and, let me tell you, I’ve been in better-finished kit cars. From the crudely integrated Fiat interior bits to the felt on the dash and raw carbon composite in the footwells there’s nothing elegant about the way the F40 was put together. 

That’s why I like it. It’s completely unapologetic. It hides nothing, not the minimalism of its construction, not the ferocity of its twin-turbocharged V8 or its purity of purpose. I love the fact that, even with the rear clamshell in place, you can peer through plastic windows and mesh and trace the path of air through intercoolers and turbos, into the engine and then out through the triple exhausts. You don’t need to understand anything about how engines work to get a sense of how wild this car is – even at a standstill it’s self-evident.

Same in the cabin. Fixed racing seats. Harnesses. A small, round steering wheel with a prancing horse at its centre. A long gearstick with a metal gate and three pedals in the footwell. Nothing superfluous. Because it’s not like you’ll be needing any further distractions.

I’ve been lucky enough to drive a 288 GTO that shares the same basic engine and from which the F40 was evolved. For all the reputation as being a four-wheeled deathtrap, I was surprised at how much fun it was. Sure, you respect the old-school whoosh-bang turbocharged power delivery. But, at least in the dry, the GTO felt surprisingly accommodating. 

Admittedly the F40’s 480hp (apparently a conservative figure) is at least 80hp more than the 288 and it weighs 60kg less. Its character is, apparently, more ferocious as a result. But the lack of weight, the non-assisted steering and the total lack of electronic ego massage just adds to the appeal. In my experience cars of this nature are simply as scary as you want to make them. Which could be ‘very’, if you so wish. But you could hardly claim the looks lulled you into a false sense of security.

How much? This one’s up for £1.15m, proving decisively that F40s are now million-plus cars. It’s for sale with Hertfordshire based DK Engineering, known as go-to guys for exotica like this with claims of having handled 160 F40 sales in their time. That’s a significant proportion of the 1,311 built, one of the surprising things being just how many Ferrari actually made. 

Picking that number apart DK’s James Cottingham tells me around 500 are in this car’s more desirable ‘non-cat, non-adjust’ specification, shorthand for the fact later cars were equipped with catalytic converters and electronically adjustable suspension. Total production includes a number of US cars considered less attractive for their federalised spec. This car’s configuration equals at least a 10 per cent premium while the condition and Ferrari Classiche certification will attract collectors like moths to a flame. Frankly, once you break a million who’s counting. 

Suffice to say I’d be adding some numbers to the odometer and not putting it under a cover as an investment. If a few more kilometres equal a few less thousand on the value so what – scary or not the F40 is the kind of life-affirming thrill ride I’d happily sign up for and leave my days browsing the classifieds browsing behind.

Photography courtesy of DK Engineering