The 5 Porsche 911s That Defined My Career: A Look Back at a 40-Year Obsession
It’s hard to believe four decades have passed since I first sat behind the wheel of a Porsche 911. The memory is sharp: a white 3.0-liter Carrera, minimalist black Fuchs wheels, a narrow body, no rear wing, and a five-speed manual transmission. It felt as pure a 911 as you could get in those days. It was fast, certainly, but I questioned the hype. Why? Because I’d just driven a 944 Turbo, a car that cost roughly the same as the Carrera back home in Australia but offered superior power and torque. Outperforming that 911 on tight, winding roads was disconcertingly easy.
Yet, despite the logic, I fell hard for the 911.
“After two days and 600 miles,” I wrote back then, “I’m certain. The 944 Turbo is the better car. But if I were being honest with myself and forced to choose, I’d take the 911 Carrera home.” It wasn’t an easy choice. I acknowledged the 944’s competence, how it “can make a bad driver look good” with its “soaring, searing performance” and “astounding ability.” But the 911 resonated on a different level. It was a sports car for a different era, “not tailored to meet the needs of most drivers.” It “demands understanding and respect.” That’s why it won my heart.
Since then, I’ve driven dozens of 911s. With one exception—the 964, which suggested the 911 concept was nearing its end in the early 1990s—I’ve been constantly amazed at how Porsche has refined its icon, keeping it both relevant and exhilarating. More than 40 years on, it remains one of the few new cars I’d actually buy with my own money. Of all the 911 models I’ve had the privilege of testing over the years, these five stand out as the most unforgettable.
The Original 911 Turbo: A Widowmaker’s Warning
When I first drove that 3.0-liter Carrera, the veteran road-test journalists spoke of the original 911 Turbo in almost reverent whispers. They said it demanded the utmost respect, a car that punished mistakes with ruthless efficiency. The traditional 911 tightrope—navigating the treacherous line between corner-entry understeer and corner-exit oversteer—became a white-knuckle task requiring lightning reflexes. They called it a widowmaker.
It took me 35 years to finally get behind the wheel of an original 911 Turbo and discover the truth for myself.
The car I tested was one of the very first 30 production Turbos ever built, now preserved in Porsche’s exquisite classic fleet. Knowing its fearsome reputation, I drove cautiously at first. I played with the throttle, feeling the turbo build boost and watching the tachometer, slowly mapping out the power delivery. It was surprisingly manageable at low revs; the 3.0-liter flat-six was happy to chug along at 2,000 rpm in top gear, cruising at 45 mph.
But the moment the engine hit 3,500 rpm, the turbocharger kicked in, forcing 0.8 bar of pressure into the intake. The sledgehammer blow I’d been warned about? It wasn’t there.
I learned the trick to smooth, rapid progress in the original 911 Turbo was keeping the 3.0-liter flat-six spinning above 4,000 rpm. This kept the turbo spooled up. Yes, there is turbo lag—very noticeable by modern standards—but it’s manageable. Even half a century later, this 911 remains staggeringly fast. First gear reaches 50 mph, second hits 90 mph, and third nearly touches 130 mph. This means you can destroy most winding back roads using only second and third gears. And while its 256 hp might seem modest, the car weighs only 2,513 pounds, allowing it to carve through corners effortlessly. Back in the day, its performance would have seemed other-worldly.
The 993-Generation: The Last Air-Cooled Masterpiece
For Porsche purists, the 993 represents the end of an era—the last of the “real” 911s. It’s the car you drive with your knuckles grazing the dash, hearing the snarling, metallic clatter of an air-cooled flat-six echoing behind you. But back in 1994, when I first drove it, the 993 was the Porsche of the future, the first in the line to truly challenge Isaac Newton’s laws of physics.
Oh sure, the 993 still possessed that distinctive, slightly choppy front end that demanded aggressive loading on corner entry to nail the apex. The rear end still had a characteristic “rhumba” through rougher turns. But the connection between the front and rear ends was far more symbiotic than in previous generations. The 993 did “911 things,” but within a much wider margin of error.
The key to this transformation was a revolutionary rear suspension. Porsche replaced the old semi-trailing arms with a new multi-link setup. This allowed very slight initial toe-out on corner entry, which then progressed to a stable toe-in as lateral loads increased. Crucially, it reduced the dramatic camber changes that had plagued 911s since 1963.
This engineering breakthrough was complemented by a new steering system. At just 2.5 turns lock-to-lock, it was 16 percent quicker and made the front end feel far more responsive. A new six-speed manual transmission allowed drivers to fully exploit the 3.6-liter flat-six, which delivered its 268 hp at 6,100 rpm with more enthusiasm than ever, thanks to lighter internal components, Bosch Motronic 2.0 engine management, and a revised dual exhaust system.
Compared to the 964 model it replaced, the 993 was a revelation. It wasn’t just the engineering upgrades, led by Ulrich Bez (who later headed Aston Martin). The exterior redesign, under design chief Harm Lagaay, corrected the visual flaws of the 964, which he felt was too tall at the front and had a drag-inducing rear. The interior was cleaner too, with buttons relocated to more logical positions. The 993 was a faster, more forgiving, and ultimately, a more desirable 911.
The 996-Generation: The Hero That Saved Porsche
At the time, the automotive world saw it as heresy. Porsche’s decision to fit a water-cooled flat-six into the tail of the 996-series 911 was, to the purists, the equivalent of Bob Dylan trading his acoustic six-string for a Fender Strat at the 1965 Newport Folk Festival. But for me, the 996—the first clean-sheet redesign of Porsche’s indefatigable sports car in 34 years—was a hero. 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 piece of engineering. Its brilliance lay in its shared architecture with an all-new, more affordable mid-engine roadster known as the Boxster. Porsche boss Wendelin Weideking understood the Boxster was essential to provide something new for dealers to sell once the aging 928 and 968 models were discontinued. “We did two cars for the price of one-and-a-half,” design boss Harm Lagaay remarked with a smile after the 996’s unveiling.
But while the media focused on its relationship with the Boxster and the water-cooled engine, the 996’s true significance ran much deeper. In 1994, a 993-series 911 took 130 hours to build. The 996, however, took just 60 hours. The modern 911 had arrived. It was roomier, equipped with all the features expected of a late 20th-century sports car, and still undeniably a 911.
Most importantly, it still drove like a 911. Only better. While it possessed a new veneer of sophistication, the 996 retained the delicious tactility and urgent response that made the 911 a sports car like no other. Together with the original Boxster, it rescued Porsche from the brink of extinction.
The 991.2 Carrera: Simple Perfection in Guards Red
Of all the 911s I’ve driven, it was a base model 991.2 Carrera that truly captured my heart. It captivated everyone else too, judging by the feedback from colleagues who drove it at the time. Most press fleets are usually loaded with high-spec cars featuring every option imaginable, presumably because automotive PR departments think we’re impressed by expensive trinkets. So Porsche Cars North America’s decision to include a base 911 Carrera in the lineup for our