Test Drive: 1982 Ferrari 308 GTSi
People believe there is a turning point in every boy’s life where he becomes a man. Some say it’s when you first have to shave, or when you get your first kiss, or when you first register to vote or get drafted. I’d have to politely disagree and say it’s when you get to drive a Ferrari.
When you boil it down, any car you drive is just a lump of steel, glass, rubber, silicon, leather, paint, asbestos, aluminum and a few other things. But just as Shakespeare and Anne Coulthard both write using the same language, Hyundai and Ferrari makes cars using the same materials. The difference comes in the execution. I have always heard from people familiar with Ferraris that when you drive one, it conveys emotions to the driver that a normal car can’t, and doesn’t even try to. When you get behind the wheel of a Ferrari, you feel the passion for driving the engineers had. When you get behind the wheel of a Lexus, you feel the passion for… what?
I had the opportunity recently to drive a Ferrari, and despite it being a rather short drive, it left quite an impression on me. This is just something one can’t really say about a modern car. There are much, much faster modern cars (more on this in a moment) but they don’t leave a grin on your face and a feeling of satisfaction like these cars can.
Let’s get something out of the way first, though: by modern standards, a 308 GTSi isn’t really that fast of a car. 1982 was the first year that Ferrari switched from carbs to electronic fuel injection, and power took a dive. The 3.0L twin-cam 16v V8, when introduced, had quadruple Weber 40 carbs and made 252 horsepower and 209 ft-lbs of torque. When fitted with Bosch K-Jetronic electronic fuel injection and all sorts of awful anti-smog emissions equipment, power dropped to 205 horsepower and 181 ft-lbs. This is only marginally more power and quite a bit less torque than a modern Volkswagen GTI makes, for instance. Torque peak is at a relatively high 5000rpm, so low-end power isn’t this engine’s forte.
It does, however, wind out to 7700rpm and can reach a top speed of 147 miles an hour. 60 miles an hour arrives in the high-6 to low-7 second range, so it’s not slow. But it’s not mind-blowingly, curb-stompingly fast like a modern small Ferrari. (The 308’s latest descendant, the F430, can reach sixty miles an hour in well under 4 seconds on it’s way to a 200+ mile per hour top speed.) But then, this is a 25 year-old-car. By the standards of 1982, this was one of the fastest things on the road. But, enough about speed. That’s missing the point.
They just simply don’t make cars like this any more. Driving a 308 is an experience; a 308 is a car designed to entertain and delight it’s passengers, it is not a transportation appliance. Most modern sports cars have varying degrees of “transportation appliance” about them. The best example of this is the 350Z; though it may be stonkingly fast and capable, you can still tell it was built on a budget using parts from boring sedans, and it shows. A 308 is wonderfully three-dimensional by comparison.
For starters, just getting in the thing is tough. I suppose at 6′2″ I’m taller than the average bear, but it takes some delicate manipulation to get in without whacking one’s head on the roof. Like most low-slung sports cars, though, once you’re in and settled, it’s relatively comfortable - like a pair of gloves. The seats give the typical old-school Italian driving position - knees up in the air, long reach to the steering wheel, butt about 3 inches from the ground. Ergonomically, it’s fascinating. The transmission is a racing-style dogleg pattern, where first gear is back and to the left - where second normally is. Reverse is down through an interlock and where first normally is. This is because first gear isn’t useful for much other than getting going, whereas on most good roads you don’t go below second - makes sense, just takes some getting used to.
Firing it up is relatively uneventful (thankfully!) Push in the clutch, crank it for about 5 seconds and it catches and comes to a high idle for about a minute. Slotting first gear puts the shifter right up against your right thigh. The clutch is surprisingly light - I was expecting it to be somewhat tedious.
Driving this car at parking-lot speeds is somewhat nerve-wracking. The engine has very little low-end power so it requires delicate modulation of the clutch to avoid an (extremely) embarrassing stall-out. The steering is not power-assisted, and even though there’s no engine up front weighing things down, the tires are very wide and require quite a bit of grunt to do tight maneuvers. The brakes are slightly grabby, and the general feeling that everyone is watching you doesn’t make it any easier.
It all starts to make more sense on the road, though. The 308 is geared relatively short so in third gear on the road it’s right in it’s powerband. There is no drive-by-wire BS and throttle response is quite instant. For a 25-year old car, the brakes are simply amazing - they inspire confidence with their power and predictability. This car feels like it’s balanced on the tip of a knife, ready to do whatever you ask it to. While it never scares you to death with power, above 4000rpm or so there is a very satisfying shove as the V8 right behind hurls you down the road just like a Ferrari is supposed to.
The gated shifter is wonderful - there are no missed shifts here, and each gear change is made with a satisfying “clink.” It lends a sense of occasion to the drive that’s absent in most modern cars.
Point the 308 up a highway on-ramp and the non-power steering suddenly makes complete sense. Despite being saddled with ancient Michelin TRX (Metric-sized) tires, the 308 has sharp, accurate turn in and the steering is full of feel, giving the driver feedback that is muted by modern power-steering systems.
On the highway, in fifth gear the 308 cruises just like a normal car - actually pretty serene, not too loud, soaks up irregularities in the road surprisingly well. With the morning sun reflecting off the upkicked front fenders and coming in through the windshield, life is good as the V8 hums it’s song. Sure, it’s got a radio - but would you bother turning it on? No, me neither. Your point of view as you pass other cars is about at their wheel hubs - the connection you feel with the road is exceptionally strong here, unsurprisingly. It’s a joy to drive.
And then, all too soon, the drive is over. What a car. But what do you expect? It IS a Ferrari, after all.
-James