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Chequered Carrera
Owning a classic 911 can cost a fortune, but specialist Paul Stephens has found a way around it. Andrew Frankel reports
As a sports-car icon, the early 1970's 911 makes a pretty good case for itself. By then the 911 had been tamed just enough for most mortals to drive, and with the advent of S versions and more powerful 2.2 and 2.4 litre engines, it really went too.
And of course, there is the 1973 2.7 litre RS Carrera, the greatest of all early 911s and we'd argue, the greatest 911 of all time. Weighing less than a tonne in lightweight form and with a 2.7 litre flat six snarling its race pedigree from the ducktailed boot, it remains the very embodiment of all that was great about the 911 concept.
But first, a few caveats. You can pay well over £60,000 for a decent RS, and while previous generation 911s are exceptionally long lived, these early cars do not have galvanised chasses and can rot.
It was with these issues in mind that 911 specialist Paul Stephens had an idea. Why note take a later 911, which is cheap to by, has a galvanised shell and a bigger engine, and give it the look ad feel of on e of the earlier cars? The result, he figures, would be the best of both worlds: a 911 with the thrills and performance of an old RS, but with everyday durability and sensible maintenance costs. And it costs considerably less than you'd pay for an RS.
‘Is it as thrilling as a RS? Probably not, but there's not much in it and it's undeniably easier to drive fast'
To start with, you supply Stephens with a sound early ‘80's 911 SC, which should set you back around £10,000. A further £30,000 and four months later, he will return to you a PS 240C: the number referring to its approximate power output, the letter to it being from the ‘Classic' range. There is also a ‘Retro' model being developed on the 964 platform for those who want such luxuries as four wheel drive, anti-lock brakes, Tiptronic transmission, power steering and air conditioning.
Note that the word ‘Porsche' does not appear anywhere in the previous paragraph, nor does it anywhere on the car or in Stephen's literature. Porsche, he says, is happy with what he's doing, but prefers him not to leave the shield of Stuttgart on the bonnet.
How It's Done
You can't accuse Stephens of cutting corners. Once he has the donor SC, it's stripped down to its bare metal, repainted in any colour you choose while the gearbox and engine are completely rebuilt; the latter is also balanced and lightened to raise the output from 204bhp to 236bhp. Pre-'73 headers are fitted and feed into stainless exhausts to create a thrilling sound. The brakes are large, cross drilled discs, but while the anti-roll bars are upgraded, original torsion bars and dampers are retained.
Stephens says the care will not simply outperform an RS, but prove much more practical to own, and not just because of its greater rot resistant qualities. It will be cheaper to maintain and tolerate unleaded fuel.
The cheesy ‘70s bumpers are discarded and period furniture, from the front airdam to rear spoiler, is fitted. The SC bonnet is retained, but reskinned in keeping with the wrap around look of earlier cars. The interior is largely stripped – you can choose to retain the rear seats or not the centre console is removed and the instruments modified. New seats and a simple Moto-lita wheel are fitted.
Visually, however, I found the PS disappointing. Stephens is a pains to point out that the car I drove is the first prototype of the new range and is well aware of its poor panel fit and sometimes patchy finish. But even making allowances for this and the odd ride height – which can be fixed, but only to the detriment of handling and ground clearance – the car looks neither fish nor fowl. Stephens is adamant it's not an RS replica, ‘but an idea of what it may have become and Porsche continued down that track. Even so, I fear many will see the uneasy mix of SC wings (unable to be swapped for technical reasons) and cod -Fuchs wheels, with such obvious RS addenda like the ducktail and deep front airdam, and presume it's a less than brilliantly executed RS recreation.
And that's a shame because, looks aside, it's a very pleasing piece of kit. Weighing under 1100kg with 236bhp as its disposal and terrific torque from little more than idle, it feels at least as quick as any standard 2.7 RS I've driven. The brakes feel race-car good, the handling classic 911: slow into a corner, get on the gas as soon as possible and use the traction to cannon you down the road. It also rides with an un-911-like equanimity.
Is it as thrilling as a genuine RS? Probably not, but there's not much in it and it's undeniably easier to drive fast. The SC lump is not as characterful as the howling, mechanically injected 2.7, but in this form it does the job just as well.
I wish this car looked s convincing as it drives. I'd rather Stephens turned it into a proper RS re – in which there is no shame at all – because the idea of being able to use something so beautiful and evocative every day is compelling. But nevertheless, there is much to admire here. It may not look like a 40 grand 911, but it just about drives like one.
Kindly reproduced with permission of Autocar Magazine
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