Maybe it's an occupational hazard: After a while, evaluating new cars seems like, well, a job. But once in a while a model rekindles that kid-in-a-candy-store feeling. The Porsche 911 Carrera is such a car. Get behind the wheel and, because the car is so smooth and powerful and connected to the road, it feels as if it drives itself.
Step on the accelerator and the car leaps gracefully, with a satisfying roar. Take a sharp curve and it obstinately holds the road -- without a bit of sway.
When Porsche invited this personal-finance magazine to join the car-enthusiast mags for the first test drive of the redesigned 2005 911 Carrera, I jumped at the chance. Did I mention that the test drive would be on Porsche's home turf, in Germany? From Hameln (the village Hamelin of Pied Piper fame), we'd drive on twisting, narrow roads through the north German countryside -- past hilly farmland, dense woods, picturesque villages and castles. And, of course, on the no-speed-limit autobahn.
It was a brilliant stroke of PR. Placing the new 911 against the backdrop of the slightly surreal landscape of Grimm and Goethe put the car in its best light. In a nation of auto aficionados -- where Mercedes sedans are used as taxicabs -- the Porsche and its iconic profile are revered. Wherever I drove, heads turned.
Playing catch-up
Because of an airline glitch, I am a day late to the Porsche party and miss a press briefing and half a day's driving. I catch up with the rest of the journalists in time for lunch, served in a 400-year-old castle, complete with ancient suits of armor, swords and coats of arms. I meet Andreas, my German photographer and driving companion. Over sausages, Wiener schnitzel and red cabbage (this isn't Atkins, it's cultural), Porsche muckety-mucks get me up to speed with a private briefing on the redesign.
For 40 years, the 911 has been the flagship for Porsche, and the previous design, rolled out in 1997, sold a respectable 160,000 models, 60,000 of them in the U.S. But more than ever, competition for buyers in the category is fierce. Still, each redesign, and its concomitant changes, is a little risky because the Porsche driver appreciates the classic, unpretentious style of the 911 and regards its understatement -- and consistency -- as an asset.
That explains why Porsche made only subtle design changes to the 911's exterior, keeping the iconic profile and even returning to the distinctive oval headlights of earlier 911 generations. Inside, though, the designers were bolder. Responding to criticism of its ho-hum interior, Porsche added more leather to the seats and trim, and more aluminum to the dash and dials.
Unlike, say, a Miata roadster you might buy on an age-defying whim, a Porsche is not a midlife-crisis car. Its owners are among the most passionate and loyal drivers in the world. Most appreciate Porsche's precise engineering and craftsmanship, says Peter Schwarzenbauer, chief executive officer of Porsche Cars North America. The company has identified -- and labeled -- three main types of buyers: "confident connoisseurs," who buy Porsches because, along with fine art and cuisine, they also appreciate fine cars; "top guns," or thrill-seekers, who have the mindset of fighter pilots; and "enthusiastic purists," who race cars, frequent car shows and are sought out by others for advice on cars.
Celebrity Porsche fanatics are legion, including Jerry Seinfeld, who was commissioned by Automobile magazine to cover last year's introduction of the Carrera GT (604 horsepower; price, $440,000). "Cool is what sells sports cars," he writes, trying to explain the Porsche mystique. "Why is this company so cool? Can you name another company in the history of companies that could get a positive PR spin off killing one of the biggest movie stars of the 20th century in one of its products?" (James Dean died when his Porsche collided with another car in 1955.)
Behind the wheel
Wolfgang Dürheimer, Porsche's executive vice-president of research and development, asks if I'm ready to see the car. Sensing my frayed nerves and noticing my slightly glazed eyes, he gives me some cautionary advice. "Do not drive," he says, "until you are in the right state of mind to appreciate this car. Relax, and let the stress go. It is what we tell our test engineers."
Deep breath. I close my eyes and try to banish the detritus from my head. Another sip of espresso, and I am ready. The jet lag melts away as I am led through the worn stone courtyard to the car, and adrenaline takes over.
Porsche used its first redesign in seven years to introduce not one but two new 911s -- the standard and the S. The basic Carrera ($70,095) has the old version's 3.6-liter engine, but with 325 hp, and the Carrera S ($79,895) has a brand-new, 3.8-liter, 355-hp engine. The redesign includes such innovations as automatic suspension damping (to adjust the ride to road conditions as well as to your style of driving). You can also choose sport mode for a tighter suspension when you're at the track, or think you are. A new stability-control system allows for more extreme driving before it kicks in to prevent out-of-control skids. Extra safety features, such as a reinforced front end and six airbags, are part of the package.
On the outside, the new 911 has an edgier, more muscular design. "It is like someone who has been working out at the gym," explains Dürheimer. The rear fenders flare, like back muscles after a year on Nautilus. The waist is trim. Aggressive, 19-inch wheels come standard on the S. On the dash, the gauges look buff and sleek. Even with the new safety and high-tech equipment, the weight is only slightly heavier than before (3,075 versus 2,959 pounds), thanks to strategically placed aluminum, carbon fiber and other design modifications. That helps the car go even faster than before: zero to 100 kilometers per hour (that's 62 mph) in 4.8 seconds in the S.
Among its many thoughtful features, the 911 offers "adaptive" seats, which allow you to adjust the seat bottom and back for width (a nod perhaps to the aging baby-boomer frame). The back seat is still ridiculously small, as 6-foot, 190-pound Andreas discovered when he tried to snap pictures from there. You wouldn't take your in-laws out to dinner in this car.
On the autobahn
By coincidence, or perhaps not, Andreas is a Porsche fanatic -- he's on his third Boxster, an S cabriolet. (His assistant drives it while Andreas rides shotgun in the 911.) Because he's familiar with the area, we throw away the map with the highlighted route and hit the back roads. The weather is changeable, sunshine interrupted by showers that arrive with no warning. For now the rain has stopped and the sun promises to shine, giving Andreas hope that the photos will be good.
The road from the castle is steep and winding. At first I keep my speed down because, first of all, I can't see oncoming traffic around the curves and, second, I haven't a clue about German traffic rules. Andreas gives me a quick lesson: At intersections, there's a complex, hierarchical system that determines who goes when; motorists on "priority" roads (marked with a yellow diamond) have the right of way. Speed limits are standard throughout the country: 50 kph in cities and towns, 100 outside of cities and towns and, where there's no explicit limit, a "recommended" speed of 130 kph (81 mph) on expressways and the autobahn.
I gain confidence, and speed, as Andreas scouts locations for photos: first a field of windmills, then a one-lane road that seems to lead to the ruins of a castle atop a steep hill but dead-ends at a rutted cow lane. Andreas sets up the shot with the cattle and castle in the background, and the Carrera and me in front. We mount up again and drive in search of a cafe. On the edge of a small village, two teenage boys stare at the car, and we make a U-turn to chat and show off the goods. Their English isn't very good, so Andreas translates as I brief them on the car's features. When I tell them that the top speed is 293 kph (182 mph), one of them asks if this car is exempt from the agreement among German automakers that limits speeds to 250 kph. (Answer: Yes. That agreement applies to high-volume models, and Porsche, as a maker of high-end sports cars, was never a part of it.)
We find a cafe, and the rain starts again. Sitting under a canopy, we wait for it to stop. Andreas points out that we've parked next to an old Trabant, the tiny, tinny East German national car noted for poor performance and subpar materials that has been out of production since shortly after the Berlin Wall came down. Side by side, the two cars are a fitting symbol of the economic inequality -- haves versus have-nots, East versus West -- that still scars Germany.
When the rain stops, we head for a stretch of the autobahn that has no speed limit. Unlimited speed would be a nightmare in most of the U.S., where slow drivers often hog the left lane and speedsters pass on the right. But German law requires drivers to commandeer the left lane only when passing.
Traffic is a bit heavy because it's rush hour on a Monday, and although portions of the road are wet, I accelerate to 205 kph (just under 130 mph). I'm passing most of the cars on the road, and as we close in on other cars in the left lane, they dutifully move over. Andreas points out that they're conditioned to get out of the way even quicker when they see the 911 silhouette in their rearview mirror. Then it's my turn to move over because, in my mirrors, I see a car hurtling toward us. As it zooms by, we see it's a Passat diesel wagon. I decide to follow. For two minutes we're at 240 kph (about 150 mph) -- still 53 kph shy of the 911's top speed. My hands have a death grip on the wheel; my eyes are glued to the road. At that speed, the 911 has absolute confidence. Mine wavers.
Andreas asks if I want him to take the wheel. Why not? He drives aggressively, riding the tail of left-lane drivers who don't move over quickly enough. "Don't shift so soon," he tutors me. The Carrera S develops maximum torque at 4,600 rpm, so if you rev it up to nearly 5,000 rpm before you shift, you'll get more oomph when you accelerate. He demonstrates. From the passenger seat, the speeds seem even more insane.
Value driven?
The new Porsche went on sale August 28. More models, including a cabriolet, are scheduled for next year. The $70,095 price for the standard Carrera is only about $700 more than the price of the 2004 model, and you get more standard equipment. But Porsche is notorious for its long list of a la carte options, and the new generation will be no exception. If you're in the market, be prepared to pay substantially more than the base price. Options can easily add $15,000 to the cost.
On the other hand, you can make a case that you're buying value. The 2004 911 is expected to retain an estimated 59% of its sticker price after two years, and 43% after four. Also, Porsche claims that ownership costs have been reduced 25% because "inspection" intervals are now recommended every 18,000 miles instead of every 12,000 miles. Oh, and as crazy as Porsche drivers seem to be, they evidently know how to drive without getting into scrapes. According to insurance-company data, the frequency of injuries in accidents involving the 911 Carrera is lower than for any other sports car.
--Research: Jessica Anderson
Got a question? Ask Mark by e-mail, or write to him at 1729 H Street, N.W., Washington, DC 20006.
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