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Driving a Ferrari 250 SWB means touching size


Driving a Ferrari 250 SWB means touching size

Only 11 examples of the Ferrari 250 GT SWB were built as right-hand drive vehicles with a steel body.

Barry Hayden

It was the Ferrari F355 that I gave the most prominent spot on my bedroom wall. Among them, a 1:18 scale Ferrari F50 in silver is the model I remember most clearly, with the GTO and Testa Rossa members of the 250 family close in second and third place. Up in the attic, hidden years earlier after moving and banished to a cardboard box with “Scalextric” scrawled in black felt-tip pen, sat a Ferrari 250 GT Short Wheelbase.

In retrospect, I didn’t give the SWB the attention it deserved. Probably bought by my father one weekend at a toy fair in a local sports hall and paired with a similar vintage Aston Martin DB4, I had little more than an overview of the increased value of the 1:32 scale Ferrari. A vague appreciation for the fact that the 250 and Aston – and many others, one must say – were decades old, delicate and should be treated with care.

That was fine with me. I preferred to drive my contemporary red Ferrari F50, orange McLaren F1 LM, and Ford GT40 with Gulf livery, whose magnets were ripped out with a screwdriver so their rear-wheel drive chassis could slide around any corner.

This car, valued at around £ 5 million, was sold to Colonel Ronnie Hoare of Maranello … [+] Concessionaires 1960

Barry Hayden

Two decades later, I have very different feelings about the neglected 250 SWB. If only I had recognized the importance of the short wheelbase as a young boy, knew more about Enzo Ferrari, understood the magic of the Colombo V12 under the hood, and appreciated the car’s many successes through Graham Hill and Stirling Moss.

I pondered my lack of appreciation for this car while driving west from London one October morning in 2020 to go to GTO Engineering. This was my second visit to the British Ferrari specialist in as many months, having recently driven his sensational 250 SWB Revival, a newly built, so-called “toolroom copy”. Identical to an original SWB (apart from the price and the fact that this was built in England rather than Italy), on a sweltering hot afternoon, the bright red Revival, complete with Modena license plates, was one of the biggest rides of my life made .

Today’s drive would not be that long, that fast or that technically impressive, but it would be many times more significant.

I had been invited to drive a freshly restored Ferrari 250 Lusso – an honor in itself – but the day before I was asked, since there happened to be a 250 SWB in the workshop, if I would like to drive it instead?

I didn’t need to worry too much because upon arrival I saw both cars warming up on the driveway by GTO Engineering. No other journalist would drive this today. That was all for me, a pair of classic 250s worth a combined £ 7million.

First of all, there was a journalistic assignment and I sat down for an interview with Mark Lyon, the founder and managing director of GTO Engineering. Lyon told me the history of each car, how it was restored and what it was like to discover classic “barn find” ferries in the 1980s and 1990s, like digging up lost treasure. I thought back to my similarly unloved Scalextric SWB, gathering dust in an attic somewhere, the young Guardian who was ignorant of its worth.

The 250 SWB was driven at events by the likes of Graham Hill and Stirling Moss … [+] From Goodwood to Le Mans

Barry Hayden

The interview is complete and details of the upcoming Squalo from GTO Engineering have been shared. It was time for a ride. I chose the Lusso first because it’s easier to drive – Lusso means luxury in Italian. I’ve written more about this car here, but to be quick to guess, it was an exquisite thing. Steers as tight as a drum, V12 engine turns wonderfully, reasonable power and easy to drive. Photoshoot completed – including some noisy three-point turns in someone’s driveway, sorry for that – it was time to get back to base and light the SWB.

License plate FX 9, chassis number 2221GT and originally painted blue, this car is one of only 11 right-hand drive, steel-bodied examples sold in the UK. It was bought new by Colonel Ronnie Hoare of Maranello Concessionaires in Surrey, the first UK importer of Ferraris, and used as his personal car. FX 9 was first registered on October 5, 1969 and exhibited at the London Earls Court Motor Show until the end of that month.

Six months and a repaint in red, the car was sold to Ron Fry, who competed in numerous sprint races and hill climbs in Great Britain between 1961 and 1963, achieving 31 podiums and 21 wins from 38 entries.

The chassis 2221GT later changed to a new owner in Italy, who drove it extensively in the 1970s, converted it to left-hand drive and replaced the steel body with a light metal body.

Fast forward to 2011 and British classic car specialist DK Engineering is bringing the 2221GT and its removed steel body to the UK. The car looked a bit worn, was bought by a new owner and taken to GTO Engineering for a two-year restoration that included reinstalling the original steel body and moving the steering wheel back to the right.

The driving position has a steering wheel offset to the right and pedals offset to the left.

Barry Hayden

Now, 60 years and a day after Colonel Hoare’s 2111GT was brought home from Earls Court, it’s my turn to push the dainty key and bring the mighty V12 to life.

I instinctively pull the seat forward (a habit that anyone 5’6 will be familiar with), but quickly realizes that a push chair cannot improve the SWB’s riding position. In true Ferrari fashion of the sixties, the small pedals and the massive steering wheel are completely incompatible, the former on the right, the latter on the left. The driving position that remains for the SWB driver is almost comparable to that of the side saddle. Strange but with the V12 now warm and ready to go, something I decide I can probably tolerate.

I push the snookerball-sized gear knob in first, reach into the footwell to release the fly-off handbrake (another ergonomic misstep), and try to ignore the gray clouds that are gathering over me. I follow the photo car down the driveway of the GTO, the V12 growls awkwardly, obviously unimpressed by the slowness.

We turn right onto the main street and the engine wakes up with the slightest throttle and turns eagerly through first gear. I’m surprised at how quickly a car that appears to roll its eyes when the driver hesitates can suddenly jump into life and dash forward like a shark smelling a drop of blood from a quarter of a mile away.

FX9 has since been sold and repainted in the dark blue color it wore 61 years ago.

Barry Hayden

The 2221GT chassis left the factory in a semi-competition spec 60 years ago, much like it is today, and while it’s a pretty close relative of the meek Lusso, the SWB is furious. As tired as the cliché it may be, this is a racing car for the road and clearly happiest when the accelerator is wide open, the V12 hungrily sucking on an intoxicating cocktail of gasoline and oxygen.

Duty to do so and the experience is almost overwhelming. Not because of the wild acceleration – with around 280 hp, the SWB is fast, but by today’s standards not scary – but the soundtrack. Just like GTO’s revival, this original short wheelbase is a whole orchestra of a car.

No wonder Old Man always said Ferrari was selling engines and the rest of the car was given away for free. The 250 SWB experience is all about the V12 masterpiece at the front.

I have to admit now, dear reader, this wasn’t the kind of testosterone-fueled, diabolical driving style that would be appropriate for a 1970s issue of Car Magazine. I’m not even sure I made it into fourth gear, and much of the 20-minute drive I spent rolling somewhere between first and second, following a chase car with a photographer in the trunk.

But it does not matter. I had already driven the newly built GTO Engineering Revival in anger and knew exactly what a spirited ride in a 250 SWB felt like. Today was a treat in the form of a photo opportunity and an insight into how Mark Lyons and GTO Engineering work. Driving the Lusso meant understanding what a properly restored car feels like while sampling the SWB touched on the size itself. A size with rough edges, an uncomfortable driving position and an overwhelming rating, but still size.

It amazes the mind to imagine how driving such a machine must have felt on a summer afternoon at Goodwood or on a rainy Saturday night at Le Mans sixty years ago. Today is a moment to be enjoyed in all its glory. Not the best car I’ve ever driven, if such an award can ever really be presented, but the biggest and most important. A mile.

The Ferrari 250 SWB was replaced by the 250 GTO in 1962, which is currently considered the most valuable car … [+] any times.

Barry Hayden

I lost touch with the Scalextric 250 model from my childhood after several moves and a 200 mile move for university, which forced me to relive my childhood through an impromptu eBay purchase in my late 20s. The adopted replacement sits on a shelf above my desk, a constant reminder of both childhood and that rainy October morning in 2020.

The FX9 itself was sold by DK Engineering in the summer of 2021 and has since put its paint back on the Blu Sera, which it wore when new.

Just as I hope FX 9 will be used and enjoyed by its new owner, I hope my own 250 SWB is now a valued member of someone else’s Scalextric collection. Or maybe it’s on a cloth-covered table in a meetinghouse, patiently waiting to be picked up, bought, and valued by another little boy and his father.

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