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40 Years with the Porsche 911: A Journey Through 5 Icons Forty years. It’s been four decades since I first drove a Porsche 911. It was a white 3.0-liter Carrera with those signature black Fuchs alloys—a no-frills machine with a five-speed manual and no power steering. I remember it being fast, certainly, but also… flawed. I drove it alongside a 944 Turbo, which, in Australia at the time, cost roughly the same as the 911 Carrera. The 944 was undeniably faster and more effortless on the twisties. Yet, despite the 944’s superior performance metrics, I fell head over heels for the 911. “After two days and 600 miles,” I wrote back then, “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 a decision I made lightly. “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.” But the 911 tugged at the heartstrings. “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 piloted dozens of 911s. With every iteration—save for the 964, which in the early ’90s suggested the 911 concept might be past its prime—I’ve been amazed at how Porsche has refined its icon, keeping it thrilling, relevant, and engaging. Four decades on, the 911 remains one of the few new cars I’d happily spend my own money on. Out of all the 911 models I’ve driven over the years, here are the five that have left the deepest impression. The 1975 Porsche 930 Turbo: The Original Monster When I was driving that original Carrera, the veteran road-test journalists spoke of the first Porsche 911 Turbo in hushed, awestruck tones. It was, they said, a car that demanded total respect when driven hard. Its binary boost delivery required a level of driver focus that made navigating the traditional 911 tightrope—balancing corner-entry understeer with corner-exit oversteer—a nerve-wracking task for even seasoned drivers. The original 911 Turbo offered no forgiveness for mistakes; it punished sloppiness. In the lexicon of the era, it was dubbed a “widowmaker.” It took me 35 years to get behind the wheel of one of those legendary machines and discover the truth for myself. The car I drove was one of the first 30 production Turbos ever built, now part of the coveted Porsche classic fleet. Out on the road, keenly aware of its fearsome reputation, I drove with extreme caution initially. I played with the throttle, feeling the turbo spool up, watching the tachometer, and trying to build a mental map of the power delivery. The engine was surprisingly docile at low revs, happy to pull along at 2,000 rpm in top gear at 45 mph. However, once the engine hit 3,500 rpm, there was a distinct shove in the back as the turbocharger pushed 0.8 bar into the induction system. Yet, the sledgehammer blow I expected never materialized. I soon learned the secret to smooth, rapid progress in the original 930 Turbo: keep the 3.0-liter flat-six spinning above 4,000 rpm to keep the turbocharger spooled. Yes, there’s noticeable turbo lag by today’s standards, but it’s manageable. Even more than 50 years old, this 911 remains a remarkably potent machine on the road. First gear reaches 50 mph, second extends to 90 mph, and third climbs to nearly 130 mph. This means you can tear through most twisting backroads using only second and third gears. And while it only produces 256 horsepower, it weighs just 2,513 pounds, allowing it to dart into and out of corners with ease. Half a century ago, its performance would have seemed otherworldly. The 1994 Porsche 911 993 Carrera: The Last Air-Cooled Masterpiece For the purists, this generation represents the end of an era—the last of the true 911s. It’s the Porsche that connects you directly to the engine, with your knuckles grazing the dashboard and the snarling, metallic clatter of an air-cooled flat-six echoing behind you. But back in 1994, when I first drove the 993, it felt like the 911 of the future, the first model to truly challenge the laws of physics. Of course, the 993 retained the classic 911 handling traits—the pat-pat-pattery nose that needed to be loaded into corners, and the rear end that danced through rough turns. Yet, the harmony between the front and rear axles was significantly improved. The 993 still did 911 things, but with a much wider margin for error. The key innovation was a redesigned rear suspension. Porsche replaced the aged semi-trailing arms with a new multi-link setup. This engineering marvel allowed for minute initial toe-out upon corner entry, which then progressively increased toe-in as lateral forces rose. All this was achieved while reducing the camber change that had been the Achilles’ heel of the 911 since 1963. This revolutionary suspension was paired with a quick-ratio steering rack—just 2.5 turns lock-to-lock—making the front end feel incredibly responsive. It also featured a new six-speed manual transmission that capitalized on the 3.6-liter flat-six. With lighter internals, Bosch Motronic 2.0 engine management, and a dual exhaust, the engine revved higher to its 268-hp peak at 6,100 rpm. Compared to its predecessor, the 964, the 993 was a revelation. It wasn’t just the advanced engineering, spearheaded by Ulrich Bez (who would later lead Aston Martin). The exterior redesign, directed by design chief Harm Lagaay, corrected the visual issues he perceived in the 964—a car he felt was too tall at the front and too slab-sided at the rear. The interior was cleaner too, with fewer buttons in random locations. The 993 was a 911 that was both faster and more forgiving than ever before. Most importantly, it was far more desirable. The 1996 Porsche 911 996: The Water-Cooled Revolution At the time, it was heresy. Porsche’s decision to mount a water-cooled flat-six in the tail of the 996-series 911 was, to its aficionados, the automotive equivalent of Bob Dylan hanging up his acoustic guitar and plugging in a Fender Stratocaster at the 1965 Newport Folk Festival. But the 996—the first clean-sheet redesign of Porsche’s indomitable sports car in 34 years—was, for me, a hero car. It was the 911 that saved Porsche. Engineered and developed under the leadership of Porsche R&D chief Horst Marchart, the 996 was a remarkably clever design. A significant portion of its engineering was shared with the new mid-engine roadster that would soon become the world-famous Boxster. Iconoclastic Porsche CEO Wendelin Weideking recognized the necessity of the Boxster to give dealers something to sell when the aging 928 and 968 models were discontinued. “We did two cars for the price of one-and-a-half,” design chief Harm Lagaay noted with a wry smile after the company unveiled the 996. While much of the media attention focused on its relationship with the Boxster and the radical switch to water cooling, the 996’s true significance ran far deeper. In 1994, it took Porsche approximately 130 hours to build a 993-series 911. By 1996, the 996 required only 60 hours to manufacture. The modern 911 had arrived. It was roomier, equipped with the premium features expected of a late 20th-century sports car, yet still undeniably a Porsche icon. Most importantly, it still drove like a 911. In fact, it drove better. Yes, there was a new level of sophistication to its operation, but the 996 retained that delicious tactility and urgent response that defined the 911 experience. Alongside the original Boxster, it pulled Porsche back from the brink of financial ruin. The 2017 Porsche 911.2 Carrera: The Everyman’s Sports Car Out of all the 911s I’