A long weekend with a Porsche 911 SC

[PreacherCain]

Well, gentlemen, it finally occurs to me (late, I know, but better that than never, right?) that I have something to contribute to this forum. Back in November I had the use of a 1982-ish Porsche 911, a birthday present from the Bird. And I wrote a review of it. So here it is. It's a bit long. But it is Friday.

Poster Car Weekend – 4 days with a Porsche

Everyone has a “poster car”. Every bloke, anyway. The concept’s a simple one; at some stage in the development of most male minds, an interest in vehicles of some kind emerges. It might be planes, ships, or monster trucks, but it’s often cars. By the age of eight or nine, a clear favourite will have emerged, and images of this favourite will dominate the boy’s bedroom decoration for years. Until the bikinis take over, of course.

My poster car was Porsche’s iconic 911. I loved the low sleek shape, with its graceful front wings leading the eye easily from the headlights to that huge, macho spoiler. I liked the short, almost-vertical windscreen and the silver-and-black alloy wheels. And when a friend of the family took me for a spin in his 911, I decided I loved the noise, too. Along with the suspicion that if we went any faster, we’d go back in time…

Time passed. I grew up, learned to drive, and have spent a blameless decade happily shuffling about in a series of sensible, safe, normal family hatchbacks, each in a differing state of decrepitude. Lurking beneath my Everyman driving exterior, though, was the little boy who loved the 911; so, when my girlfriend arranged a long weekend’s rental of my poster car (written in the annals of history as Best Birthday Present Ever, incidentally) I was over the moon. Doubt, however, was not far behind. 911s are dangerous. Every bar-room grand-prix expert knows this. The engine’s in the wrong place, the handling’s unpredictable, and if you drive it at all in the wet – even in a straight line – it will try to kill you at the first opportunity. Usually successfully. Naturally, it was with some trepidation (which approached sheer, naked fear) that I picked up the keys to the 911 that would be mine for the weekend… The key weighed far heavier in my hand than I’d have thought possible. The vehicle in question, for the technically-inclined, was a late 911 SC. Please, follow me out to this tidy, well-kept grey-blue car. I’d like to show you around.

I shall get my only criticism out of the way. Compared with the civilised, modern Audi I drive day-to-day, the 911 dashboard is an ergonomic nightmare. Instead of two large, clear, well-lit main dials with the ancillary gauges nestling between them, the dashboard is dominated by a large rev-counter, flanked on each side by two similarly-sized dials displaying information deemed to be less interesting to the driver; speed, oil pressure, time and fuel level. It’s hard to know where to look if (say) you want to know how fast you’re going, and the fact that the steering wheel permanently obscures part of the speedo doesn’t help. This layout makes checking gauges a bit of a chore, and given today’s camera-infested roads I rapidly developed a sore neck from craning to see round the steering-wheel. The other somewhat quirky feature of the 911 dashboard is the location of the minor switches. I’m sure there are all sorts of good reasons for it, but nonetheless it looks like someone took the roof off, dipped these (thankfully non-vital) controls in glue, threw them into the car from a distance and then just wired them in where they fell. Take windscreen wipers, for instance. Operation of the front wipers is via a conventionally-located stalk on the steering column. The back wiper however is controlled by a tiny and well-disguised rocker switch hidden between the speedo and the clock. Ludicrous.

OK. So I’m in the exceedingly comfortable, low-set driver’s seat, staring at this comically laid-out cockpit. Where the hell does the ignition key go? Ah – right. One click, lights illuminate and I can hear the fuel pump priming. Twist it further and the starter whines, followed by the characteristic sewing-machine chatter of one of the best engines ever made by Man. Who cares if at idle, it sounds like a militant Beetle? This is Serious Engineering, as my experience this weekend will prove. The power delivery is wonderfully smooth and linear – the more revs you have, the more power.

A word about the weather – well, two words: wet, and horrible. Some parts of Britain got twice the monthly rain average for November, over Saturday and Sunday. I didn’t know this, when I picked up the car on a drizzly Friday – but in retrospect I’m not sure I’d have cared. What the weather did mean, though, was the car’s heating system got a thorough work-out, and I had to stuff tissue paper into some of the more irritating leaks around the removable Targa roof panel. So – with the interior of the car de-misting at a snail’s pace while the engine warmed up, I set off.

My first impression is crystal clear: “Christ, this thing’s a bugger to drive!”

A heavy, unassisted clutch, almost servoless brakes, and unassisted steering do not make for a great town car. Getting out of London became a major challenge, especially with misted-up windows and unfamiliar controls. The gearbox, a notoriously balky and difficult beast, was especially truculent when cold, and the lack of much clear definition between first gear and reverse had me fooled a couple of times, early on. What I did appreciate straight away, though, was how direct and feelsome the steering was. You almost don’t need to turn the wheel, you just sort of telepath your way down the road… I also enjoyed the engine, which at low speeds was torquey and responsive enough to handle stop/start motoring without excessive gear-stick stirring.

By the time the car has warmed up and the windows are finally clear. I realise that visibility is excellent, despite the enormous, six-inch deep B-pillar (which doubles as a rollover bar). The whole of the cabin aft of the B-pillar is made from a single piece of glass, so there’s not much in the way of a rear-view blind spot. Heading up the motorway, I was struck by how solid the car felt, even at 80 or 90 mph. It feels entirely connected to the road, and you can feel the steering weight up as you go faster, and the airflow pushes the sloping nose down onto the road, making the car much more stable and less jittery than I’d expected. I also began to discover the hidden joy of that wonderful engine – leave it in third, and run the revs right up to the redline, and your reward (aside from a sudden realisation that you’re really going quite fast, and ohmygod was that a Police car you just passed?) is an engine note that rises from a deep bubbly rumble to become a big-lunged bellow that makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Ye Gods! It’s impressive enough on a motorway with the roof on, but echoing off the trees around a country B-road, without the roof, the sound is just awesome. It suits the car perfectly – it’s a metal-edged howl of pure mechanical potency. My Audi’s turbo four sounds asthmatic and dull next to this.

OK. So I’ve reached Bracknell. Twinned with Leverkusen. Also, and less famously perhaps, European City of Roundabouts for 2003. There are thousands of them, and on wet roads in a notoriously tail-happy car, each one held a sphincter-straining prospect for the unfortunate 911 novice… Or did they? I found myself pleasantly surprised. After pottering round the first one in careful, granny-in-tesco-car-park style, I began to get an inkling of the car’s capability. I realised that the steering is so informative, and the road feel of the whole car so positive, that you can sense the loads on each tyre and feel very clearly when things are about go sideways. This may just mean that I wasn’t driving it right, but with one exception, and in some of the heaviest rain of this year, I had no whoops-nasty moments and crucially no surprises.

The exception? Well, I’m glad to say it was deliberate… While leaving Bracknell I found myself alone on a large, flat, greasy roundabout. OK. Second gear. Put the power down – let’s find out just how snappy it can be. Not all that snappy, really. I fed power in steadily, and when the back end broke away it did so quite smoothly, and more slowly than I’d expected. Tidying things up was quite intuitive and I was on my way again. And jolly good fun it was, too.

On damp country roads, the 911 was an absolute joy. The flexibility of the engine, combined with informative steering and tremendous levels of grip, makes this a car that begs to be driven quickly. I can see that extracting the last five or ten percent from it would be very hard indeed, but even as a total novice to the car, I found it astonishingly fast, especially round corners. There were a couple of moments where I could feel things starting to get unstuck, but it never bit me, so I’m not sure where the 911’s vicious reputation comes from. As long as you approach it with respect, and take the time to learn to understand what the car’s telling you, it will warn you when you’re overcooking things, and leave you time to sort it out. On the other hand, if you get into this car and try to drive it at ten-tenths straight away, I suspect it will indeed try to kill you. Fairly quickly.

The weekend continued with more of the same, in varying levels of heavy, blattering rain. But Monday was different. Monday was cold, clear, sunny, and most importantly, dry. And coming back to London, on B-roads most of the way, was as near as I’ve ever been to driving paradise. Every corner became a joy – the sharp, informative steering telling you that the front wheels are loading up as you brake; the increased effort as you turn the wheel; and the extraordinary grip and traction as you put your toe down before the apex, the rear wheels dig in and that fantastic engine flicks you down the next straight… In the wet they’re to be approached cautiously, but in the dry every roundabout becomes an ideal venue for second-gear fun. The 911 has a phenomenal ability to generate huge cornering forces without losing grip. Corners that I would normally slow right down for, the 911 could almost take flat. And it was wonderful.

All things move towards their end. That afternoon, after 500-odd miles of surreally fast corners and spine-tingling soundtrack, the 911 went back to the rental company. It felt odd, sitting in the Audi again. I’ve done 20,000 miles in that car, and enjoyed most of them. But I’d just been shown, in particularly graphic style, just how insulating a modern car is. How fuzzy and imprecise the steering and brakes, how anodyne and polite the noise… I found it very hard to change gear smoothly, having learned to cope with a “slow and sure” gearbox, and a clutch that requires your whole leg to operate it. But that heavy clutch tells you exactly where the biting point is, and the firm brake pedal makes abundantly clear what’s actually going on between pad and disc. The unassisted steering, which makes parking a 911 feel like arm-wrestling a gorilla, delivers pitch-perfect feedback at any speed over a walking pace. The modern replacements for these systems are easy to operate, gutless and mute. But that’s another rant, for another day.

Overall, then, four days with that 911 is the best driving experience I’ve ever had. It’s exposed my Audi as efficient, fast, and safe but also comparatively fuzzy, insulating and dull to drive. That weekend proved the pub experts (who decry the 911’s handling as “twitchy” and “tail-happy”) to be, in the main, uninformed windbags. And more than anything else perhaps, it’s taught me that you can have an enormous amount of fun at legal-ish speeds in the UK; you just need the right car for the job.

Now. Anybody want to lend me some cash? I’ve just seen a cracking 911 in black for just ten grand…

[Snail]

Very nice review Preacher!!!

You really should write for a magazine or something, you have a much better command of the english language that i could possibly hope for!!!

[Sven]

Excellent writeup Preacher, and spot on! Funny you mention the 'telepathic' steering, exactly the words I chose to describe it on my 911.

I did like the central RPM though, as that's the most important one (if you forget about the police for a while). And the coupé didn't have the moist issues, but other than that...

The '86 Carrera 3.2 had a different clutch and gearbox, (1st to the back) but it still required quite some pressure. No town car at all (the 944 was much more forgiving and easy going at that). Mine also had adaptive power steering, which was just as it should be, you couldn't tell it was there, but it made parking etc. a lot easier. The 993 is again much easier to drive, the heavy clutch has gone, and the 6 speed gearbox is a treat. Though I must say the '86 3.2 was nicer soundwise, and IMO a tad more communicative.

But you're right again on the 'tail happy - engine in the wrong place' BS (Clarkson is a star at those moronic comments). It is a load of horse If you listen (feel) what the car is telling you, you won't have a problem at all. The 911 is a fabulous car...

[PreacherCain]

Snail, Sven, you're too kind!

Calling Porsche steering "telepathic" is The Daddy of all motor writing cliches, I know, but there really is no other way to describe it. It's as natural as turning your head, and it really does go where you point it.

I'm deeply jealous, Sven - I want a post-G50 'box 3.2 Carrera more than just about anything except a 993 C2. The 964 has a really good reputation as a driver's car, but I also understand that it suffered from great complexity and some engineering niggles. The 3.2 was the first Motronic 911, the G50 substantially less agricultural than the old 915 'box, and yes, they sound WONDERFUL.

Ah... Off to browse autotrader.co.uk again...

[WoodenDummy]

The engine IS in the wrong place on a 911, but they make it work with pure engineering genius, but its still in the wrong place.

The Porsche purists would never let them move it to a proper mid mount, think about the fuss they make when they changed to watercooled and when the newer engines were moved forward a little.

The engine is in the wrong place yet it still handles like nothing else, which just about sums up the genus of the 911.

[WoodenDummy]

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dipped these (thankfully non-vital) controls in glue, threw them into the car from a distance and then just wired them in where they fell

[/ QUOTE ]

Oh and that really made me chuckle, you should write for a living!

[PreacherCain]

[ QUOTE ]

you should write for a living!

[/ QUOTE ]

I'd love to. You know anyone looking for a beer-swilling roving reporter?

Glad you enjoyed the write-up, and yeah, the 911 is a fantastic piece of engineering. I shudder to think what the rear suspension geometry must be like, to keep the wheels that firmly planted in corners, but what the Hell. It works, like nothing else!

[WoodenDummy]

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I'd love to. You know anyone looking for a beer-swilling roving reporter?

[/ QUOTE ]

You know i've always wondered if I could make a go of a on-line magazine.

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but what the Hell. It works, like nothing else!

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After all thats all that counts, God knows how Lotus managed to make a gear box that even Renault didn't want work in a super car.

[Ari]

Just read this, what a great review!

Driven a couple of 911's but only briefly, I think you're dead right, you need time to learn the car and how to drive it, I only had the time to barely scratch the surface, having one for a weekend must be fabulous!

[944Tom]

Preacher

I agree - great write up. I currently drive a 944, a decent 911 is just out of my price range at the moment, and I would only get a decent one, i.e. servicing etc.

I have driven two different 911s - both belong to friends of mine - although not for a whole weekend though. Even during a short drive you can notice how positive the SC steering is, a 911 is the car I want. one day it will be mine..........

Tom

[npodmore]

hello Preacher

Nice review mate. I am the girlfriend of another lucky young man such as yourself, I am hunting around for a porsche day out as a surprise birthday pressie. Can you share with me where your very clever other half got your day out from? There are lots out there and I don't want to disappoint.

Ta

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