40 Years of Excellence: My 5 Most Memorable Porsche 911 Models
It’s hard to believe it’s been four decades since I first put a Porsche 911 through its paces. My initial encounter was with a white 3.0-liter Carrera, featuring black Fuchs alloys. With its narrow body, no rear wing, and five-speed manual transmission, it was about as pure a 911 as Porsche has ever produced. At the time, though, I remember thinking it was fast but flawed—perhaps because I was testing it alongside a 944 Turbo, which, in my home country of Australia, cost virtually the same. The 944 Turbo was quicker and torquier, capable of handling any road with significantly less effort. Yet, despite the 944 Turbo’s superior performance, I couldn’t help falling in love with the 911.
“After two days and 600 miles,” I wrote in my review, “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.” It wasn’t an easy conclusion to reach. “The 944 Turbo is so competent, it can make a bad driver look good,” I said. “Its soaring, searing performance is superbly counterbalanced by a chassis of astounding ability.” Yet, the 911 resonated with my emotions. “The gloriously imperfect 911 Carrera is a sports car of a different age and reflects different values. 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 drive, I’ve tested dozens of 911s. With every iteration—save for the 964, which in the early 1990s seemed to suggest the 911 concept was past its prime—I’ve marveled at how Porsche has polished its icon, keeping it relevant, exciting, and engaging. Four decades after my first experience behind the wheel of a 911, it remains one of the few new cars that would still command my hard-earned dollars. Out of all the 911 models I’ve driven over the past 40 years, here are the five that remain the most unforgettable.
The Original 911 Turbo: A legend forged in fire
Back when I drove that 3.0-liter Carrera, veteran road testers spoke of the original Porsche 911 Turbo (the 930) in awe-filled tones. They described it as a car that demanded the utmost respect when driven with intent, a machine whose binary boost characteristics made navigating the traditional 911 tightrope between corner-entry understeer and corner-exit oversteer a task requiring quick hands and nerves of steel. They warned that the 911 Turbo didn’t forgive mistakes or tolerate sloppiness; it was, they said, a widowmaker. It wasn’t until 35 years later that I finally got behind the wheel of an original 911 Turbo and discovered the truth for myself.
The car I drove was one of the first 30 production Turbos ever built, now part of Porsche’s spectacular classic collection. Aware of its fearsome reputation, I drove very cautiously at first, experimenting with the throttle, feeling the boost kick in, and watching the tachometer to build a mental map of the power and torque curves. The engine proved remarkably tractable, happy to hum along at 2,000 rpm in top gear as the 911 Turbo cruised at 45 mph. Once the engine reached 3,500 rpm, however, there was a noticeable surge in acceleration as the turbocharger forced 0.8 bar of pressure into the induction system. But the sledgehammer blow I’d expected between the shoulder blades didn’t materialize.
I quickly learned that the trick to smooth and rapid 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’s turbo lag—very noticeable turbo lag by modern standards—but it’s manageable. Even after more than 50 years, this 911 remains an impressively fast car on the road. First gear reaches 50 mph, second reaches 90 mph, and third reaches almost 130 mph, meaning it can devour most winding two-lane roads using only second and third gears. And although it has a modest 256 hp, it weighs only 2,513 pounds, allowing it to glide into and out of corners effortlessly. Half a century ago, its performance would have seemed otherworldly.
The 993-Generation Porsche 911: The last of the air-cooled purists
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 brushing the dash and the snarling, metallic clatter of an air-cooled flat-six behind you. But back in 1994, when I first drove it, the 993 was the 911 of the future, the first to challenge Isaac Newton’s laws of physics. Of course, the 993 still had the nervous front end that demanded to be loaded on corner entry to ensure you hit the apex, and the rear end still danced through rough turns, but there was a much greater sense of connection between them. The 993 still performed 911 magic, but within a much more manageable framework.
Key to this improvement was a new rear suspension that replaced the semi-trailing arms of the past with a sophisticated multilink setup. This provided very slight initial toe-out on corner entry and progressive toe-in as lateral loads increased, all while reducing the camber change that had been the Achilles’ heel of 911s since 1963. This was combined with steering that, at 2.5 turns lock-to-lock, was 16 percent quicker, making the front end feel much more responsive. Additionally, it featured a new six-speed manual transmission that made the most of the 3.6-liter flat-six, which revved harder to its 268-hp peak at 6,100 rpm thanks to lighter internals, 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, performed under the leadership of Ulrich Bez (who would later head Aston Martin): The exterior redesign, orchestrated under design chief Harm Lagaay, corrected visual flaws in the 964, which he believed was too tall at the front and too low at the rear. The interior was cleaner as well, with fewer buttons in random locations. The 993 was a 911 that was faster and more forgiving than ever. And, most importantly, it was even more desirable.
The 996-Generation Porsche 911: The liquid-cooled icon that saved the brand
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 aficionados, the automotive equivalent of Bob Dylan trading his six-string acoustic for a Fender Strat at the 1965 Newport Folk Festival. However, the 996, the first clean-sheet redesign of Porsche’s tireless sports car in 34 years, was a hero car in my eyes. It was the 911 that saved Porsche.
Engineered and developed under the leadership of Porsche R&D chief Horst Marchart, the 996 was a clever 911. It shared 38 percent of its components with an all-new, less expensive mid-engine roadster that the world would come to know as the Boxster. Visionary Porsche boss Wendelin Weideking recognized the necessity of the Boxster to provide dealers with something new to sell once the aging 928 and 968 models were discontinued. “We built two cars for the price of one-and-a-half,” design chief Lagaay recalled with a smile after the company unveiled the 996.
But while the media spotlight focused on its relationship with the Boxster and the water-cooled engine, the 996’s true significance ran much deeper. In 1994, it took Porsche 130 hours to build a 993-series 911; the 996 took just 60 hours to construct. The modern 911 had arrived: roomier and equipped with all the features expected of a late 20th-century sports car, yet still unmistakably Porsche’s icon. Most importantly, it still drove like a 911—only better. While there was a new veneer of sophistication to its performance, the 996 retained the delightful tactility and urgent response that had made the 911 a sports car like no other. Along with the original Boxster, it saved Porsche from extinction.
The 991.2-Generation Porsche 911 Carrera: The base model that stole hearts