A tale of two Porsches

Hey there, time traveller!
This article was published 04/07/2003 (8316 days ago), so information in it may no longer be current.

I think I have greater empathy for what Sylvester the cat must have felt as he tip-toed through a yard full of sleeping dogs in pursuit of his next meal, the ever-elusive Tweety Bird.

The sleeping dogs just a few feet behind me are the full fury of 450 horsepower waiting to be released from Porsche’s twin-turbocharged, 3.6-litre, horizontally opposed six-cylinder. My version of the alarm clock Tweety uses on Sylvester is the gas pedal. In Sylvester’s case, once those bells ring, he’s going to have two-dozen hounds chewing on his butt. My case is less clear — I don’t know what I am going to awaken when my right foot grinds the throttle.

Any trepidation I anticipated with the 911 Turbo existed on several levels. The first was cost; the base Turbo wears a price tag of $170,200; opting for something called the X50 engine enhancement performance package ups the turbochargers’ boost to produce 450 hp (from a paltry 415 hp) and ups the sticker by $26,300. (The package includes modifications to the turbocharger, air intake cooler, electronic control unit, exhaust system, as well as a strengthened transmission.) So, for the price of a pretty nice house in many parts of Canada, you can have an exotic sports car — one of the fastest production automobiles money can buy. The thing is, unlike certain vehicles (such as the Hummer H2) where other motorists give you a wide berth, get behind the wheel of a 911 and you become fair game for every driver with a bad attitude or who thinks he has something to prove. Jealousy is not pretty.

The second thing was not if, but when I would give into temptation. Porsche claims the 1,540-kilogram Turbo can accelerate from zero to 100 kilometres an hour in just 4.2 seconds.

It will do the ton in only 9.2 seconds and achieve a top speed of 305 km-h. How badly did I want to see how much of that is true?

Finally, the Sylvester question: Just how hairy a beast was the Porsche and would I find teeth marks on my ass?

Answering the last question first, the 911 Turbo is surprisingly docile in day-to-day commuter situations. Considering it has to deal with more than 450 pounds-feet of engine torque, the clutch is not all that heavy — certainly no StairMaster workout. The shift throws are a little longer than I thought they would be, but the six-speed’s gates are well defined. The overabundance of torque allows the Turbo to be short-shifted. It will happily putter through traffic at a tick over 2,000 rpm without a hiccup in power delivery. Once out on the open road, the Porsche will noodle along at 115 km-h, turning over at a lazy 2,500 rpm in sixth, but needing only a quick downshift and a little gas to reach supra-legal velocities.

Of course, the technology in the latest Turbo is a millennium ahead of what was found in the first 911 Turbo when it was introduced to these shores in 1976. The 2003 Turbo employs the four-wheel vented, cross-drilled disc brakes derived from the Porsche GT1 race car. Four-piston calipers reduce unsprung weight and improve heat dissipation. The front and rear discs are 330 millimetres in diameter. Pirelli rubber measures 225/40 ZR18s at the front, massive 295/30 ZR18s at the rear.

The standard Porsche Stability Management system (PSM) detects a loss of grip at the front or rear and reduce instability by applying braking to individual wheels and, if necessary, altering engine power. Plus, the Turbo’s lightweight all-wheel drive system directs torque to the front wheels at a rate of 5 per cent to 40 per cent, depending on available traction and power applied. The viscous unit compensates for a difference in wheel speeds during cornering.

Does all this mean the Turbo is some sort of high-performance wuss, with none of the nasty oversteering characteristics that were the calling card of older 911s? Owners of these Porsches might snort in derision, but the real answer is hardly. The Turbo still has a wild streak, especially if you explore any of the sports car’s over-abundant potential.

Like any exotic car wearing foot-wide rubber, the Turbo likes a smooth road. Any crowns, dips or other similar irregularities have the tires seeking the best available traction. Combined with an ultra-stiff chassis and a suspension with minimal deflection and you had better have a firm grip on the steering wheel or the reflexes of a Schumacher. And, despite all-wheel drive, grip is not always a given. While demonstrating to my brother what real acceleration was like (he owns a supercharged, 5.0-litre Mustang), I spun the wheels while in third gear at about 4,000 rpm. Yes, the road was damp at the time, but I doubt if I was even at two-thirds throttle. A quick lift off the gas and traction was restored.

The Turbo’s handling dynamics exist on a higher plane than any car I have tested in a long time — a level far greater than my meagre abilities and one that should really only be explored on a race track. Cornering grip is phenomenal, aided by near-perfect steering weight and response. Crank the wheel and hold on, the car scribes a perfect line without a hint of wiggle and next to know body motion. Those huge brakes feel as though they could pull the freckles off your face. And the shove into the seat back as the turbo boost builds is intoxicating — a little too much so. I just know that if I held on to the Turbo for even a little while longer, my licence would be in serious jeopardy.

While Porsche is kind enough to throw in a few amenities for your $200K, there is no way the 911 matches even a $60,000 luxury car in terms of interior appointments and elegance. It is as if Porsche is saying, “We give you the finest sports car German engineers can build, a ride most would kill for. You want opulence, too?” Actually, it’s not that the 911 is somehow lacking for the absence of wood and brushed aluminum, it’s more the ergonomic mystery. Any button or control that doesn’t operate a primary function is strewn all over the dash and other parts of the cabin in seemingly haphazard fashion.

For the record, there are a a decent variety of standard luxury and security features including anti-theft system with engine immobilizer and alarm, automatic climate control with dust/pollen and activated charcoal odour filters, xenon headlights, sunroof, power-adjustable leather seats with driver’s seat memory and Bose digital audio system with six-channel amplifier and 12 speakers. Other than tuning in for the traffic report, I had the stereo off, preferring the soothing mechanical tones emanating from the engine. As for the driver’s seat, I could never quite find that perfect compromise where it was low enough that my thighs didn’t rub up against the steering wheel, yet I could still see the front of the car.

From BMW’s Z4 to the Nissan 350Z, a steady supply of increasingly sophisticated sports cars at far more affordable prices than the 911 have come on market, offering levels of driving enjoyment unheard of a decade ago. So, the cynic in me has to ask: How much of that near-$200K price tag is worthwhile performance and how much is for the Porsche name?

It takes the enthusiast in me to respond: All of it, and how much should a legend cost?

Type of vehicle: All-wheel-drive sports car

Engine: Twin-turbo, 3.6L DOHC boxer six

Power: 450 hp @ 5,700 rpm, 457 lb-ft of torque @ 3,500 rpm

Transmission: Six-speed manual

Brakes: Four-wheel disc with ABS

Tires: P225/40ZR18 front, P295/30ZR18 rear

Base price/as tested: $170,200/$196,000

Delivery charge: $1,045

Fuel economy, L/100 km: 15.5 city, 9.9 hwy.