As we all know from the support Bootsy has received, DDK is THE best motoring forum.
The other popular one tends to be a school playground, and is not an early car mecca - but I had recently enjoyed reading some enthusiastic amateur writeups of owners cars in the Porsche forum that one contributor had done.
I also thought that he should have the chance to drive one of the cars we all love. So I broke with all the usual conventions about meeting up with strangers off the internet and at the weekend met Jeremy. Thoroughly decent chap, we had a fun morning with him doing most of the driving. This is his writeup of my car:
http://www.pistonheads.com/gassing/topi ... 28731&nmt= which I have now been able to replicate below using the original text and photo links:
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Here we go again.
I'll ditch the usual preamble. For a background on how this series of posts started see the first two installments below:
Driving IMI A's 3.2 Carrera and 964 C2
Driving SlippyDiff's 996.1 GT3
And I haven't forgotten to credit the owner for the generously provided access to this stupendous car. Discretion was preferred in this instance.
=The car=
1970 UK-supplied 2.2S. Silver on black. Period Recaros. Thoroughly OEM.
Well, except for a few dictionary-definition-of-detail upgrades like a subtle LED headlamps installed behind original lenses. You know, so you can actually see at night.
Condition-wise, inside the expectation at this age is probably either a bit shagged or over restored and thus a bit Disney, if you know what I mean. But no. Somehow it manages to thread the needle and simply present as bloody nicely preserved whatever the reality. Outside it's obviously been restored and it's a heart breaker - as in it's just damned lovely. I believe some people debate the merits of original versus restored. Sod that.
Anyway, riding on 185-section rears, this thing is the ultimate in anti-bling. It's hard to imagine it was ever vulgar, even brand new in 1970. Contrast that with a modern SUV-sized, uber-badged "Porsche 911 Carrera 4 GTS"...
Speaking of size, with each of the cars I've driven so far there have been some stand out themes and what really strikes me about this particular Porker are two P's – packaging and poise.
Everyone knows these things are small. But I don't care if you actually own one, I'm still going to remind you how bloody small it is. Or rather how bloody small it seems.
The subjectives count because from behind the wheel this narrowest of narrow bodies somehow feels even smaller than later cars like IMI A's 3.2 and 964. Cabin-wise that makes no sense since the interior architecture is identical. But it's true and it gets you thinking about the car's overall packaging.
Consider for a moment that the 911S's teensy shell houses a flat-six engine and four seats. In the context of the Imperial Destroyer proportions of a 991, it's hard to get your head around how that's actually possible.
For me, the best bit of the packaging is around the rear axle line viewed side on.
It's a combination of the flow of the rear deck and knowledge of the engine installation and orientation. It's so very right and so very tight. I get a strong sense of the powertrain as a super-compact and self-contained package. Love it.
As a physical object there are a couple of other things that strike you – well, me - about this 911S. On the one hand there's the tech. The magnesium engine casing and magnesium front brake callipers, the 7,000rpm rev range, even the electric windows. Ancient and shonky it ain't.
On the other, there's the overall design, so clean, uncluttered and coherent on the outside. Inside, I particularly dig the way texture is repeated across the doors, Recaro seats and dash. The door cards really rock. Just look at 'em!
The cosmetic revisions of the later air cooled cars seem a little piecemeal in comparison. Actually, that's probably an illusion. Seasoned air-cooled cork sniffers no doubt curl their noses at the 'upgrades' implemented for this 2.2-litre long-wheel base barge versus the original 911. But ya know, whatever.
Then there's the steering wheel. It's like a microcosm of the car as a whole. Dated and spindly at first glance, it's elegant, intricate and timeless industrial design on closer inspection.
Ditto, the car generally. Pointedly period at a glance, the very notion of it being dated falls away with familiarity. Put those elements together - the surprisingly contemporary technology, the visual purity - and you can easily imagine someone banging out 911S's today as design and engineering classics with ageless appeal, a bit like like a Rolex Oyster watch case, an Aga oven, Riva speed boat, whatever. They got it right, so why change it?
Singers? Arriviste compared to a pukka period 2.2S!
Still, if you've been brain washed by the pseudo quality of soft-touch plastics and laser-guided shutlines like I have, there's an extent to which you need to recalibrate to really appreciate this thing as a physical object. It's worth the effort.
=The drive=
This is all about that second 'P', poise. It takes about 15 seconds and a small speed bump to realise this 45-year-old thing has the capacity to make moderns seem silly. It's compliant, you see.
What you don't necessarily anticipate is that there's isn't really a flip side to the compliance. The S isn't baggy or loose or clumsy or disjointed. OK, the body control isn't iron fisted in the modern idiom. But it moves down the road with a very particular flow and composure. In that regard, it simply doesn't feel old.
Things get a little more complicated with the primary controls and that 7k engine. The control weights are in a completely different post code to a 3.2 Carrera on dishy Fuchs. The steering is unassisted. And yet it's finger light at anything beyond walking speed. Quite extraordinary, especially compared to IMI A's uber manly 3.2 which requires some serious muscle at speed. No doubt you can thank a couple of hundred fewer kilos and those pencil-thin boots for that.
That's the easy bit. What's hard to capture is the nuance of the S's rack. High-geared pointy precision in the modern sense isn't on the menu, but equally you couldn't call it vague or crude or spoiled by kick back. Completely transparent and lacking in contrived weighting probably covers it. It's an interesting contrast with the best hydraulic racks I've experienced. No actually better. Not actually worse. Just different and very engaging.
The brake pedal, meanwhile, still requires a proper shove. But like the 3.2 once you get past a little dead travel, the pedal rapidly firms up and the feedback is properly
noice. In that context the level of actual stopping power is borderline irrelevant. With the wrong expectations, it'll give you a heart attack. With proper planning it's plenty for the power and pace of the car, I reckon.
Then there's gearbox. The bloody gearbox. It's a dogleg, which is a first for me as far as I can remember. That's fine. The learning curve isn't that steep and once you're on the move, it's that much easier to swap between the 'fun' gears - 2nd and 3rd - on a good road.
But the throw is pretty epic and it's not the last word in precision and gate definition, even if it's less vague than the (probably shagged) 915 box in the Porsche GB 3.2 I drove a while back. If this was the only way to have a genuinely mechanical and feelsome shift, I'd be fine with it. But IMI A's 964 proves you can have proper man-and-machine shift tactility in a more precise short-throw package.
Maybe long term my perspective would change. Three days with the 3.2 certainly did that. But my suspicion is that it would remain something I'd live with rather than savour. The brakes, the steering, the chassis, the engine? Delicious. The shift? Not so much.
Oh yeah, the engine. I've driven a few small sixes of various flavours – BMW and Pork, primarily – and that had me in mind of a certain sweetness. I was thinking 986 2.7 musicality. The S is much sharper, more aggressive and more mechanical than that. More chainsaw and less violin. Basically, it's an angry little engine in an otherwise conspicuously couth car.
More predicatable is the power delivery, both in the sense that it wants you to rev the snot out of it and you knew or at least hoped for that and also in the sense that the pick up is so clean and the delivery so linear.
The way it picks up above 5,000rpm is absolutely key to the appeal of the car for me. A breathless lump that gave up at 5.5k would make the S feel old and tired. With a proper 7k rev range and a razor-sharp soundtrack, the it feels absolutely alive.
Is it quick? Nope. Does it matter? Not even remotely.
Overall, the 911S is a really intriguing mix. As a thing, it's completely lovely. As something to drive, it's nothing if not intellectual. You have to think yourself past kneejerk reactions to some of the period characteristics that would otherwise have you wondering what the fuss is all about.
The sharpness of the engine note and the associated levels of NVH place it firmly in period. As does the shift quality. At the other end of the spectrum is the gait of the car, its flow down the road, the rev range of the engine, the detail engineering. All remarkable for a car of this vintage. Then there are elements that really transcend time, like the packaging and the industrial design.
In the long run, I suspect all that translates into much greater satisfaction – more effort equals more reward.
As for how these cars are all stacking up, it's almost vulgar to compare them. I also think there would never be one 911 that ticked all my boxes. If there's anything the 911S lacks it's the sheer sense of engineering heft and precision of IMI A's 964, a characteristic I find pretty compelling.
The 3.2 meanwhile had a visceral physicality that makes you feel like a hero when you get on top of it. What the S has that both the 964 and the 3.2 can't match is a lithe purity both aesthetically and dynamically. As for Slippy's GT3, it's just such a different proposition and takes the man-machine mind meld to another level altogether. Pays your money. Takes your choice.
I'll take all of them plus a pot of anti-radar paint, please.
=Getting back into the Croc=
These drives aren't making my life any easier! Getting back into my Cayman the sense of both reassuring shared DNA and disappointing dumbing down is rebooted.
The bottom line is that I've put the Croc up for sale. Fingers crossed I have the gumption to go through with it.
Finally, thanks again to the S's owner for sharing this delightful car and to both IMI A and Slippy for sharing their cars and enabling all of this. It's been a huge privilege to drive such fantastic examples of these bucket-list cars.
As before,enjoy your Pork while you can, everyone!