The Day a Ferrari F40 Became a Camping Companion
In 2014, Takeshi Kimura—a well-known collector and founder of CarGuy Racing—set out on a solo camping trip deep into the Japanese countryside. His vehicle of choice was not an SUV or camper van, but a Ferrari F40, a machine widely regarded as one of the most revered supercars ever built.
Worth over $3 million and often treated as a museum piece, the F40 is typically associated with climate-controlled garages and concours events. But Kimura had a different philosophy. Instead of preserving the car as an untouchable artifact, he chose to experience it—fully, unapologetically, and far from the polished floors of showrooms.
He drove the F40 into the forest alone. No support crew. No trailer following behind. Just the raw mechanics of a twin-turbocharged legend and the unpredictability of nature. Upon arriving, he parked beneath the trees, unpacked his gear, and pitched a tent beside the car. In that moment, the F40 ceased to be a symbol of wealth or rarity—it became a companion.
The image is almost surreal: one of the most iconic machines in automotive history sitting quietly among trees, its angular body reflecting the soft light of a campsite rather than the flash of cameras. It challenged the conventional idea that rare cars should be protected at all costs.
But Kimura didn’t stop there.
Two years later, in 2016, he took the same F40 into even more extreme territory. Partnering with Red Bull for a film project, he brought the car to the snowy slopes of Ryuoo Ski Park. This wasn’t a gentle winter drive—it was a full-on experiment in pushing boundaries.
The F40 was modified for the conditions with rally lights, snow chains, and even a roof rack—an almost unthinkable sight for purists. Then, against all expectations, Kimura drifted the car across snow-covered terrain.
“Driving the F40 in the snow—that was my dream,” he said. “It’s about enjoying the car, not preserving it.”
The experience wasn’t without consequences. The battery died in the cold. Snow chains scraped and damaged the paint. But for Kimura, these weren’t failures—they were proof that the car had been truly used, not just admired.
His actions highlight a deeper philosophy that resonates beyond car culture. In a world where rare objects are often locked away to maintain value, Kimura represents a counterpoint: the belief that purpose outweighs preservation.
It’s unclear whether he still takes the F40 camping today, but one thing is certain—he continues to drive his cars. Whether navigating mountain roads or experimenting in extreme conditions, Kimura treats his collection not as trophies, but as tools for experience.
In doing so, he’s created something far more valuable than a perfectly preserved supercar: a story.
No trailers. No velvet ropes. Just the open road—or, sometimes, a quiet campsite in the woods. What a great lifestyle!
