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Four Decades of Driving Icons: The Most Memorable Porsche 911s It’s hard to believe four decades have passed since I first slid behind the wheel of a Porsche 911. My inaugural drive was in a white 3.0-liter Carrera—a raw, pure machine with black Fuchs alloys, no rear wing, no power steering, and a five-speed manual transmission. It felt fast, but flawed. At the time, in Australia, the 911 Carrera cost nearly the same as a 944 Turbo. The 944 had more power, more torque, and was faster with far less effort. Yet, even then, the 911 tugged at my heartstrings. As I wrote in my initial assessment, “After two days and 600 miles, I’m certain. I know the 944 Turbo is the better car. But I also know that if it came to the crunch, if I were agonizing over how to spend my money, I’d take the 911 Carrera home.” It wasn’t an easy decision. The 944 Turbo was so competent it could make a mediocre driver look good, its soaring performance perfectly counterbalanced by an astounding chassis. But the 911 possessed a soul that defied logic. “The gloriously imperfect 911 Carrera is a sports car of a different age and reflects different values,” I observed. “It’s not tailored to meet the needs of most drivers. It demands understanding and respect. That’s why I’d take it home.” Since that first encounter, I’ve driven dozens of 911s. With every iteration—with the notable exception of the 964, a model that in the early 1990s suggested the 911 concept might be losing relevance—I’ve marveled at how Porsche has honed this icon, keeping it fresh, thrilling, and engaging. Four decades later, the 911 remains one of the few new cars I would still spend my own hard-earned money on. Looking back over the past 40 years, here are the five Porsche 911 models that have left the deepest impression. The Original 911 Turbo: Demanding Perfection Back in the era of the first 3.0-liter Carreras, veteran automotive journalists spoke of the original Porsche 911 Turbo in hushed, almost reverent tones. They described it as a car that demanded absolute respect when driven with intent—a machine whose binary boost delivery transformed the traditional 911 tightrope walk between corner-entry understeer and corner-exit oversteer into a high-stakes challenge requiring quick hands and nerves of steel. The original 911 Turbo, they warned, tolerated no sloppiness and forgave no mistakes. It was, for many, a true “widowmaker.” It took me 35 years to finally get behind the wheel of one and discover the truth for myself. The car I drove was one of the first 30 production Turbos ever built, now part of Porsche’s prestigious classic fleet. Aware of its fearsome reputation, I approached with caution, easing into the throttle, feeling the turbocharger spool up, and watching the tachometer to build a mental map of the power curve. Surprisingly, the engine was remarkably tractable. It hummed along happily at 2,000 rpm in top gear, allowing the 911 Turbo to cruise effortlessly at 45 mph. However, once the engine reached 3,500 rpm, a noticeable surge of acceleration kicked in as the turbocharger forced 0.8 bar of boost into the induction system. But the violent, sledgehammer blow I’d been warned about never materialized. I discovered the secret to smooth and swift progress in the original 911 Turbo was to keep the 3.0-liter flat-six spinning at 4,000 rpm or higher to keep the turbocharger energized. Yes, there is noticeable turbo lag—very noticeable by modern standards—but it is manageable. Despite being over 50 years old, this 911 remains impressively fast on the road. First gear reaches 50 mph, second hits 90 mph, and third climbs to nearly 130 mph, meaning this car can devour winding two-lane roads using only second and third gear. And while it may only have 256 horsepower, its weight of just 2,513 pounds allows it to corner with impressive agility. Half a century ago, its performance was nothing short of otherworldly. The 993 Generation: A Farewell to Air-Cooling For Porsche purists, the 993 represents the last of the line—the final iteration of the “true” 911. It is the car you drive with your knuckles brushing the dashboard, the snarling metallic clatter of an air-cooled flat-six engine echoing behind you. But back in 1994, when I first experienced it, the 993 was the 911 of the future, the first model in the lineage to challenge the established laws of physics. While it retained the “pat-pat-patter” front end that required precise loading on corner entry to hit the apex, and the rear end still “rhumbaed” through rougher turns, there was significantly more synergy between the front and rear. The 993 still behaved like a 911, but within a much better safety margin. The key to this transformation was a revolutionary rear suspension system. It replaced the archaic semi-trailing arms with a new multilink setup that allowed for very slight initial toe-out on corner entry, which then transitioned to progressive toe-in as lateral loads increased. All this was achieved while significantly reducing camber change—the Achilles’ heel of 911s since 1963. This engineering marvel was paired with steering that was 16 percent quicker, clocking in at just 2.5 turns lock-to-lock, giving the front end a far more decisive feel. Furthermore, a new six-speed manual transmission allowed the driver to fully exploit the 3.6-liter flat-six, which produced 268 horsepower at 6,100 rpm thanks to lighter internal components, Bosch Motronic 2.0 engine management, and a new dual-exhaust system. Compared to the 964 model it replaced, the 993 was a revelation. It wasn’t just the engineering upgrades, developed under the leadership of Ulrich Bez (who would later head Aston Martin). The exterior redesign, led by design chief Harm Lagaay, corrected visual issues he perceived in the 964, which he believed was too tall at the front and visually weighed down at the rear. The interior was cleaner, too, with fewer buttons scattered randomly. The 993 was a 911 that was faster and more forgiving than ever before. And, most importantly, it was far more desirable. The 996 Generation: Saving Porsche At the time of its release, the decision to install a water-cooled flat-six in the tail of the 996-series 911 was considered heresy by aficionados. It was the automotive equivalent of Bob Dylan trading his acoustic guitar for a Fender Stratocaster at the 1965 Newport Folk Festival. However, the 996, the first clean-sheet redesign of Porsche’s indefatigable sports car in 34 years, was a hero car in my eyes. The 996 was the 911 that saved Porsche. Engineered and developed under the direction of Porsche R&D chief Horst Marchart, the 996 was a clever design, not least because it shared 38 percent of its components with a new, more affordable mid-engine roadster that the world would come to know as the Boxster. Porsche’s visionary boss, Wendelin Wiedeking, understood that the Boxster was essential for dealerships to have something else to sell once the aging 928 and 968 models were discontinued. “We did two cars for the price of one-and-a-half,” design chief Lagaay said with a smile after the company unveiled the 996. But while the media’s attention focused on its relationship with the Boxster and the water-cooled engine, the 996’s real significance ran far deeper. In 1994, building a 993-series 911 took 130 hours; the 996 took just 60 hours to assemble. The modern 911 had arrived: more spacious, equipped with all the features expected of a late 20th-century sports car, yet still unmistakably Porsche’s icon. Crucially, it still drove like a 911. Only better. While there was a new veneer of sophistication to its operation, the 996 retained the exquisite tactility and urgent response that had made the 911 a sports car like no other. Alongside the original Boxster, it pulled Porsche back from the brink of extinction. The 991.2 Generation Carrera: An Inspired Choice Of all the 911s I’ve driven, it was a base-model 991.2 Carrera that truly captured my heart. Judging by the feedback from colleagues who drove it at the time, it stole everyone else’s heart, too. Most automotive press fleets tend to be