It was early morning in Hainich, and the light was soft. The dew hadn’t burned off the meadows yet, and the winding forest roads that wrap around Germany’s smallest national park were damp and glistening. I had a full tank, an open roof, and the keys to the Ferrari 12, Cylinder Spider, yes, that car. V12, naturally aspirated, no turbo, no hybrid nonsense, no filters between you and the sound of combustion glory. As the birdsong competed with the rumble of a twelve, cylinder symphony reverberating through the forest, I knew this day wasn’t about testing a car. It was about experiencing a piece of mechanical art before it disappears.
There is nothing efficient or sensible about the Ferrari 12Cilindri Spider. It drinks premium fuel like a bear drinks spring water, costs more than some apartment buildings, and exists for no reason other than to make your pulse race and your ears sing. And it does. Every damn time.
But I didn’t come to Hainich to philosophize. I came to drive.
Design That Stops Time
I had seen the photos, of course I had. But standing in front of the Spider in person at the edge of Thiemsburg felt like confronting sculpture. The nose is long, impossibly long, like an arrow carved from molten aluminum. The rear is chopped, taut, modern but somehow retro, referencing Daytona lines with confidence. Under the rising sun, the dual rear aero wings looked like they were breathing. The A, pillars, along with the roof and cabin surround, are finished in black, giving the illusion of a floating cockpit. The horizontal crease that slices through the side profile catches the morning light just right. It isn’t just styling, it’s personality, and it dares you to keep your eyes off it.
Climbing in, the cockpit feels low, hunkered down, and cockpit, focused in a way that immediately separates this car from anything remotely mainstream. You sit with legs stretched, eyes level with the horizon, hands clutching a steering wheel littered with haptic buttons and Ferrari logic. Even the start button is now a sensor. It could have been annoying. But somehow, the anticipation of touching it made my pulse tick up.
Specs That Scream Old School Brilliance
Ferrari’s official site is our real-time source for all technical details to ensure complete reliability.
| Specification | Detail |
| Engine | 6.5, liter V12, naturally aspirated |
| Power | 830 hp @ 9250 rpm |
| Torque | 678 Nm @ 7250 rpm |
| 0, 100 km/h | 2.95 seconds |
| 0, 200 km/h | 8.2 seconds |
| Top Speed | 340 km/h |
| Transmission | 8, speed dual, clutch, rear, wheel drive |
| Dimensions (L/W/H) | 4733 / 2176 / 1292 mm |
| Weight | 1620 kg |
| Roof Operation | 14 seconds open/close, up to 45 km/h |
| Fuel Consumption | 15.9 l/100 km (Super Plus) |
| Price | From €435,000 |
Let that sink in. No forced induction. No hybrid assistance. No fake enhancement. Just combustion, cams, and valves. A drivetrain that belongs in an Italian cathedral more than a garage.
The Hainich Experience: Wind, Trees, and Pure Noise
From the first few kilometers rolling out of Bad Langensalza toward Bolleroda, the Spider felt alive beneath me. Even in Race mode with all the systems on, it was twitchy, urgent, on edge. The ride, softened by adaptive dampers, was surprisingly civil for something so potent. In fact, on smoother stretches of Bundesstraße 247, it felt grand, touring relaxed.
But once we broke free into the twisting B84 and climbed into the wooded heart of Hainich, I downshifted to second and gave it the beans.
The intake howled. The tach surged. Past 6000 rpm, the V12 found a new octave, above 8000, it was primal. My scalp tingled. Third gear came and went too quickly. Fourth felt like a chase plane catching a jet. And the roof? It was folded somewhere behind me, letting in all the noise, wind, scent of wild garlic from the forest floor. I caught a glimpse of a fox darting into the brush.
It wasn’t just driving anymore. It was flying, low and loud.
Driving Feel: Old, School Soul, New, School Precision
At first glance, you’d think a front, engined, rear, drive GT convertible with 830 horsepower would be intimidating. But the Ferrari makes you a better driver, or at least it convinces you of that. The rear, axle steering tightens turn, in like a much shorter car. It reacts to inputs before your brain finishes processing them. And while 830 horsepower is enough to melt rubber in four gears, the grip levels are startling. The new Goodyear rubber clung to the asphalt like it was bonded.
There is precision here, not just raw violence.
Through the curves of Kammerforst and on toward Weberstedt, the car danced. Not heavy. Not lumbering. The 1620 kg felt irrelevant. The Manettino in Race mode let the tail wiggle, but never lose composure. Not once did it feel scary. Just perfectly poised.
And the brakes, carbon ceramics measuring 398 mm up front, grabbed with Porsche, like precision. Down from 200 to 100 in under 90 meters, pedal feel firm and linear, without fade. On these narrow forest roads, I needed that confidence. Especially since some blind crests came at 180 km/h.
Cabin: Future, Facing and Emotional
Ferrari’s dual, cockpit layout splits the driver and passenger into their own command centers. The layout is nearly identical to the Purosangue’s, complete with passenger display that shows speed, RPM, gear, everything. The seats are thin and bolstered, not plush, but more comfortable than the 812 GTS.
The steering wheel is peak Ferrari: touch, sensitive for most functions, haptic feedback for some, with the sole exception being the Manettino and signal buttons. At first, the interface feels alien, even annoying. But give it an hour, and it’s second nature. There’s no central screen. No distractions. Just revs, gear, speed, and horizon.
That’s all you need.
The Final Stretch: Hammering It Toward Mihla
I saved the best for last. As the roads opened west of Craula and I approached Mihla, the Ferrari had fully warmed. The tires, the fluids, even the seats felt melded to me. I pushed past 9000 rpm in third and hit 245 km/h. The forest blurred. The car was screaming, the V12 a banshee, and I could feel the rear aero blades doing their thing, 50 kg of extra downforce helping me stay planted.
There is something both deeply nostalgic and strikingly futuristic about the way this car performs. It makes no apologies. It offers no compromise. And it rewards you with a kind of driving pleasure that I’m afraid is already extinct in most brands.
Conclusion: More Than a Car, a Statement
Ferrari didn’t build the 12Cilindri Spider for numbers or records or efficiency targets. They built it for passion. For sound. For drama. And for those of us who still crave a physical, visceral connection to a machine. I’ve driven fast EVs, smarter hybrids, even other Ferraris. But nothing, and I mean nothing, compares to this.
Driving through Hainich with the roof down, the leaves fluttering overhead and the V12 roaring behind me, I didn’t feel like I was in a machine.
I felt like I was in a dream.
Is the Ferrari 12Cilindri Spider worth over €400,000?
If you’re asking for value per euro in conventional terms, probably not. But if you measure in goosebumps, soundtracks, and raw emotion, then yes, it’s a bargain.
How does Ferrari 12Cilindri Spider compare to the 812 GTS?
Sharper, more advanced, with better tech and more power. The 12Cilindri Spider feels more alive, more dialed, in.
Is Ferrari 12Cilindri Spider really the last of its kind?
It might be. With regulations closing in and hybridization looming, a naturally aspirated V12 without electrification is likely the end of an era. And what a beautiful end it is.
