“I’m pregnant with Deacon’s child,” Taylor said with a triumphant smile The Bold and The Beautiful

Angus MacKenzie: The 5 Most Memorable Porsche 911s I’ve Ever Driven After four decades of pushing Porsche 911s to their limits on tracks and roads, I’ve driven dozens of iterations of this icon. From the raw, untamed thrill of the earliest models to the hyper-aerodynamic precision of the latest, the 911 has always been a car that demands respect, rewards precision, and never loses its unique character. I remember my first drive vividly. A white 3.0-liter Carrera with black Fuchs wheels, no rear wing, and no power steering. It was pure 911, stripped down to its essence. It was fast, certainly, but in the company of a 944 Turbo, it felt raw and unrefined. The 944 was smoother, easier, and objectively the faster car on a twisting road. But still, the 911 had a magnetic pull. As I wrote at the time, “I’m certain. I know the 944 Turbo is the better car. But I also know that if it came to the crunch, that if it were me agonizing over how to spend my money, I’d take the 911 Carrera home.” The 944 was undeniably competent, its exhilarating performance superbly balanced by an astounding chassis. But the 911 tugged at the emotions. It was a sports car of a different age, demanding understanding and respect. It was a car I’d take home. Four decades later, the 911 remains one of the few new cars I’d spend my own hard-earned dollars on. It has evolved, adapted, and somehow stayed true to its roots. Every iteration—apart from the 964, which suggested the idea was past its expiration date—has been a marvel of engineering, keeping the 911 relevant, exciting, and engaging. Of all the 911s I’ve driven over the past 40 years, here are five that have left an indelible mark on me. The 1975 Porsche 930 Turbo: The Widowmaker Back when I was testing that original 3.0-liter Carrera, veteran journalists spoke of the original Porsche 930 Turbo in hushed, awestruck tones. They warned that it demanded the utmost respect when driven with intent. The 911 Turbo’s legendary binary boost made the traditional 911 tightrope walk—between corner-entry understeer and corner-exit oversteer—an even more perilous endeavor, requiring quick hands and big cojones. The 911 Turbo did not forgive mistakes, and it did not tolerate sloppiness. They called it a widowmaker. It took me 35 years to get behind the wheel of an original 930 Turbo 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 mouthwatering classic fleet. Aware of its fearsome reputation, I took it very easy at first, playing with the throttle, feeling the boost come in, and watching the tach. I was trying to build a mental map of the power and torque curves. To my surprise, the engine was remarkably tractable. It was happy to murmur at 2,000 rpm in top gear, the 930 trickling along at 45 mph with ease. Once the engine hit 3,500 rpm, though, there was a noticeable acceleration surge as the turbocharger huffed 0.8 bar into the induction system. But the sledgehammer blow between the shoulder blades I expected wasn’t there. I learned the trick to smooth and quick progress in the original 930 Turbo was to keep the 3.0-liter flat-six spinning at 4,000 rpm or more to keep the turbocharger energized. Yes, there’s turbo lag—very noticeable turbo lag by modern standards—but it’s manageable. Even today, this 911 is an impressively fast car on the road. First gear runs to 50 mph, second to 90 mph, and third to almost 130 mph. This means you can devour most winding roads using only second and third. And while it might have a mere 256 hp, it weighs just 2,513 pounds, which means it readily gets into and out of corners. Half a century ago, its performance would have seemed otherworldly. The 1996 Porsche 911 (993): The Last of the Air-Cooled Era For Porsche purists, this is the last of the line. The last of the real 911s. It’s the Porsche you drive with your knuckles grazing the dash and the snarling metallic clatter of an air-cooled flat-six directly behind you. But back in 1994, when I first drove it, the 993 was the 911 of the future. It was the first of the line to argue with Isaac Newton about the laws of physics. Oh, sure, the 993 still had the pat-pat-pattery front end that demanded to be loaded on corner entry to ensure you hit the apex, and the rear end still rhumbaed through the rougher turns. But there was much more simpatico between them. The 993 still did 911 things, but within a much better margin for error. The key to it all was a new rear suspension that replaced the semi-trailing arms of old with a new multilink setup. This allowed for very slight initial toe-out on corner entry, which then transitioned to progressive toe-in as lateral loads increased. All the while, it reduced the camber change that had been the Achilles’ heel of 911s since 1963. This was combined with steering that was 16 percent quicker, with just 2.5 turns lock-to-lock, making the front end feel much more decisive. Plus, a new six-speed manual transmission allowed the driver to make the most of the 3.6-liter flat-six that zinged harder to its 268-hp power peak at 6,100 rpm thanks to lighter internals, a Bosch Motronic 2.0 engine management system, and a new dual exhaust system. Compared with the 964 model it replaced, the 993 was a revelation. It wasn’t just the engineering upgrades, executed under the leadership of Ulrich Bez (later the head of Aston Martin). The exterior redesign, led by design chief Harm Lagaay, corrected visual problems with the 964, a car he thought was too tall at the front and too pulled down at the rear. The interior was cleaner, too, with fewer buttons scattered in random locations. The 993 was a 911 that was faster and more forgiving than ever. And most importantly, it was more desirable, too. The 993 is a milestone in 911 history and a must-drive for anyone who appreciates air-cooled performance. The 1996 Porsche 911 (996): The 911 That Saved Porsche At the time, it was heresy. Porsche’s decision to install a water-cooled flat-six in the tail of the 996-series 911 was, to the aficionados, the automotive equivalent of Bob Dylan ditching his six-string acoustic and picking up a Fender Strat at the 1965 Newport Folk Festival. But the 996, the first clean-sheet redesign of Porsche’s indefatigable sports car in 34 years, was a hero car to me. It was the 911 that saved Porsche. Engineered and developed under the direction of Porsche R&D chief Horst Marchart, the 996 was a clever 911. It shared 38 percent of its parts with an all-new, less expensive mid-engine roadster the world would come to know as the Boxster. Iconoclastic Porsche boss Wendelin Weideking knew the Boxster was needed to give dealers something else to sell when the aging 928 and 968 models went out of production. “We did two cars for the price of one-and-a-half,” design boss Lagaay said with a smile after the company unveiled the 996. But while media attention focused on its relationship with the Boxster and the water-cooled engine, the 996’s real story ran much deeper. In 1994, it had taken Porsche 130 hours to build a 993-series 911. The 996 took just 60 hours to build. The modern 911 had arrived: roomier and equipped with all the features expected of a late 20th-century sports car, but still recognizably Porsche’s icon. Most importantly, it still drove like a 911. Only better. Yes, there was a new veneer of sophistication to the way it went about its business, but the 996 retained the delicious tactility and urgent response that had made the 911 a sports car like no other. And along with that original Boxster, it saved Porsche from extinction. While some purists balked at the water-cooled engine, the 996 remains a testament to Porsche’s ability to evolve while staying true to its core