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The only car that inspired awe and annoyance in equal measure, the 512TR refuses to be pinned down by conventional critical criteria. I don't mind admitting the big Ferrari is a hero of mine. I can remember very mile I've travelled in Testarossas with almost tangible intensity: broadside on the Mugello circuit in Italy, spearing over the South Downs in Sussex and, here, on the magnificent moors. Its 5-litre flat-twelve is incomparably big-hearted (and aurally more charismatic even than the 456 GT's V 12), its brakes titanically powerful, its steering a babbling core of communication, its sheer beauty and presence an enduring high. For me, these beacons of brilliance more than blot out the car's intimidating size and chassis shortcomings highlighted by the bumpy but gloriously swoopy B1225 between Horncastle and Caistor.
Hales finds it harder to forgive the handling and ride, especially in view of the mammoth power it has to cope with. 'It feels like a real 400 plus,' he enthuses briefly before launching into the problems. 'Trouble is, this can't find its way to anything but the smoothest of tarmac without uncomfortable surges of wheel spin as too-stiff suspension picks first one wheel then another from the road. The overall ride is impossibly jiggly and combined with a most uncomfortable driving position, is very tiring on back and legs.'
Barker is equally dismissive of the TR's cornering prowess over Yorkshire's finest. 'It's a point 'n' squirt car,' he comments. 'Its chassis feels slightly ill-at-ease when hustled. The unassisted steering has good weighting, providing you don't need opposite lock because you'd need all the road to gather up a big slide. Entertainment in the Ferrari is mainly aural (the motor) and tactile (the meaty scrape-clack open-gate gearshift), though the power is addictive, too.'
Fountain counts himself an addict: 'It's so low, so wide, so handsome that you cannot ignore it, even if you want to. Inside it's extremely neat and unfussy, but arguably offers too little in the way of refinement, comfort and detail for a £131k supercar.' Walton is less sure: 'The Ferrari seems to deconstruct the act of controlling a vehicle.
Throttle, gearchange and steering all become separated, where in the others they're welded together with a common purpose. It's very intimidating and demands a respect, which sharpens the senses. The magic of the Ferrari is not just in its blood-reddened traditions but in the mechanical precision and strength it exudes. Its speed, its presence, its noise are all matched in size by its girth. For small road it ain't.' On that point, at least, we all see eye to eye.
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