Taking on the mountain passes in a rare 993-gen 911 RSR – yes, on the road!
As the purest, rawest 993 of all, the near-mythical Porsche 911RSR is a paid-up member of the air-cooled aristocracy. South African winelands, Your Highness?
Sunrise is still 40 minutes away. From my seat in a chase car – that perhaps being a grossly ambitious term – I watch the widebodied rear end of the 993 RSR squat down as the arrowstraight 800-metre dual-carriageway signals the start of Helshoogte Mountain Pass, and owner André Bezuidenhout mashes its throttle to the floor. Immediately the inside of the RSR’S exhaust pipes glow orange. The next moment the glow is gone as he changes gear. A fraction of a second later the inside of the exhausts burn orange again – what a sight! This spectacle is an explosive cacophony of pent-up anticipation, relief and euphoria for professional law advocate and experienced amateur racer André. He was briefly this rarity’s second owner in the late Nineties before he sold it on. André bought it back earlier this year. And from my receding viewpoint, it looks like he’s enjoying the reconciliation.
Even some diehard Porsche enthusiasts will admit they weren’t aware that the 993 RSR existed. Only 30 of these race cars were manufactured in 1997 – of which this is one – and a further 15 in 1998. Keep in mind that this is the pinnacle of what Porsche’s racing department achieved with its air-cooled, naturally aspirated flat-six engine at the time. For most, the apex of the 993 range is understandably the turbocharged GT2, but a few in the know argue that the RSR is a step above even that. We pull over, a chance for me to explore what makes the RSR so special.
The 993 Cup is a better-known racing highlight in the 993 range, but the RSR was developed further still. The front and rear track is identical to that of the GT2 – 1475 mm/1550 mm – but the bodywork is different: the wheelarches are marginally narrower and hug the wheels closer than the GT2. Developed for Porsche customers to compete at international endurance events, the RSR was a no-compromise race car that happens to be allowed on a public road. The cabin is fitted with a Matter roll cage, a lighter alloy bonnet, and underneath it a front strut brace. The fully balljointed suspension, adjustable rear wing and screwed-on wheel arches leave you in no doubt about the carmaker’s intentions.
The RSR looks hunkered down and ready for a start flag. The fact that it resembles the highly collectable GT2 from a distance – albeit with a naturally aspirated, air-cooled engine nestled between those wide rear tyres – makes it all the more appealing.
Open the lightened door and the racing car addenda continues. All the fixtures are in place for the six-point Schroth racing harness, although that’s not in the car right now. There’s a battery kill switch and fire extinguisher system and, appropriately, a Recaro racing seat. A passenger seat has also been fitted – perfect for sharing with, or the scaring of, an unsuspecting passenger. Below the pedals a wooden floorboard is fitted, providing a stable pivot point for your heels while piloting this thoroughbred.
While it is very similar to the unit found in the 993 Carrera RS road car and 993 Cup car, the 3.8-litre flat-six engine, codenamed M64/75, was further developed for the RSR. The updates included stronger and lighter valve gear, rockers, and high-lift camshafts.
Breathing was also improved by redesigning the inlet plenum and exhaust manifolds, while the six individual throttle bodies improved flow. A single-mass flywheel allows for a freer-revving engine and is coupled to a six-speed manual gearbox, codenamed G50/34, with a very short shift action and steel synchromesh rings.
I climb over the cross-welded rollcage bars and as I drop down into the racing seat, the contour of the Porsche-crested Recaro bucket ushers me into place, embracing me all the way from the bases of my thighs right up to my shoulders. I move it slightly forward to have a commanding view over the dashboard. In front is a simple, gently dished three-spoke racing wheel clad in Alcantara, with a neat Porsche boss in the middle and the five dials set into the signature lozenge-shaped binnacle behind it.
As you settle behind the wheel, all other lightweight supercars for the road, no matter the era, dissolve from your mind. Here you have a true lightweight, a car made for endurance racing but road registered – is there anything more exciting than that?
The dials and ventilation controls are all typical 993. That’s it, though – the rest is a bare, stripped-out pale yellow cabin. In the passenger footwell is the fire extinguisher, compulsory for racing and wise for road use. I pull the door shut, the muted clang briefly echoing throughout the cabin. No sound deadening in sight.
As soon as the engine catches, the cabin is filled with a weird combination of classic air-cooled flat-six combined with a harsh metallic clunking noise. The combination of the racing clutch and single-mass flywheel translate into loud mechanical pulses that sound like the engine is about to self-destruct at any moment. Press in the clutch while in neutral and it immediately quietens down.
With the sun just starting to rise, the roads are enticingly empty, the Franschhoek Pass snaking up the mountain guarding this beautiful town, right in the centre of the Cape Winelands.
Accelerating away, the steering wheel immediately hums with feedback – even at sedate speeds in a straight line you know precisely what the front tyres are up to. In the past I’ve been tempted by the aural vixens that are the 993GT2 and RS, but the RSR seduces with an even deeper rumble, the raw intensity of this engine and exhaust combination focusing your thoughts on the challenge – and enjoyment – at hand. The clutch bites stronger and quicker than any 993 road car I’ve driven, but that’s to be expected. The gearbox shifts cleanly, with only minor blipping of the throttle required to rev match as you change to a lower gear.
The moment you squeeze the throttle with any level of conviction, the car lunges forward, accompanied by an urgent rasp from the exhaust. While it doesn’t have four-wheel drive, the light weight and lack of inertia in the engine makes the car feel extremely urgent and agile off the line.
The turn-in is sharp while the brakes provide great feedback and never leave you in any doubt about scrubbing off speed with utter confidence. I sense no pitching of the car’s body when pressure is applied to the brakes even when resetting speed for a corner at maximum attack. Everything tracks true. Grip levels are good, but I quickly realise that with only a little time behind the wheel, a decent pilot will be able to power through the adhesive limits of the tyres, especially in slower corners.
The engine surges as it swings past 5000rpm; by then the sound is already borderline ear-splitting. From here on the needle simply swings faster and I smoothly slot the next gear home at around 6800rpm. The flat-six note is intense, raw, grinding; there’s no doubt that it was designed and built to be driven at high revolutions all of the time. The gearshifts come in quick succession, with closely spaced ratios adding to the briskness of performance and keeping me busy behind the wheel, especially on this mountain pass.
With no pressure from fellow racers, timing equipment or marshals, I allow my senses to absorb every little nuance. I sense the RSR’S frustration at being deployed in a straight line; it eagerly dives into a corner the moment I move the steering wheel
fractions of a degree off-centre thanks to the aggressive camber settings on the front wheels. Interestingly, it’s currently running at its minimum setting of 3.4 degrees; depending on the track and your intentions, it can be set to a maximum 4.5 degrees.
At no time does the car feel intimidating or scary. Information from the road is constantly telegraphed to your senses, the confidence it instils urging you to push harder and harder. However, at the same time I can imagine what racers must experience. The intensity, both physically and mentally, of piloting such a car lap after lap must be both draining and exhilarating.
The compact dimensions of the 993 are obvious through every corner, you can feel where the front wheels are and can place them precisely where you want to. At the same time, you feel through the seat how the rear end is behaving. With road tyres, you don’t have to worry too much about heating them up or about the tarmac condition. Racing slicks would be a different challenge.
The suspension is, as expected, stiff and meant for the racetrack. On this smooth mountain pass the car feels totally at home. While minor bumps are dealt with decisively as the suspension brings the bounce and rebound under control, I never feel uncomfortable or that the suspension is approaching its limits of travel. That’s quite impressive considering the type of car this is. And driving closely behind the RSR gave a different perspective on how the suspension minimises body movement.
This car was imported new to South Africa and sold to André shortly after. He kept it briefly before selling it in 1999 to a fellow amateur racer, collector, and friend, who kept it for 20 years before selling it back to André mere weeks prior to our drive. That previous owner used it enthusiastically but sparingly, explaining the 8700km reading on the odometer.
That includes a six-hour endurance race at Phakisa Freeway in the Free State province, where that owner and André achieved a respectable third place against sports cars and had the only GT car on the podium. Meticulous care for it over the years has kept it in perfect condition but still the outer body was treated to fresh paint where needed by the Porsche South Africa. It still has its original trim and matching engine and gearbox.
Having spent the morning behind the wheel of air-cooled royalty, the highlight of the day comes as I buckle up in the passenger seat. Ahead of us stretches the entire Franschhoek Mountain Pass. My heart throbs with excitement at being driven by André – a seasoned amateur racer with several victories to his name; he also holds three hill climb titles, all in single seaters. With the wheels spinning he pulls away and over the next few minutes I’m treated to the raw intensity of the RSR at its limit. André is clearly enjoying this as much as I am, ‘Sometimes you part with something that you know will come back to you. That has always been my feeling about this car. I regretted selling it and I’m delighted to have it back.
‘I think this car is the perfect balance. It has the most wonderful appearance, but its beauty is not only skin deep. The engine works, the gearbox works and the brakes work. There is almost nothing to criticise about this car.’
For pure thrills, occasional track excursions and investment value, the RSR is the ultimate 993. For that distilled 911 experience, the RSR is a compelling proposition. That additional ‘R’ puts the car in a different league. And thankfully for André, it no longer stands for ‘regret’.