Teutonic titan
We have ways to make you stay on the road, say the engineers behind the fiendishly fast Porsche 911 Turbo
IHAVE a lot of time for Germany. For despite being driven into the ground by a fascist madman and then spatchcocked by some equally depraved communists, this nation has become the fourth-strongest economy in the world today. Think about it. Seventy-odd years ago Fritz and the rest of his shellshocked buddies were crawling through smouldering rubble being shot at by lots of vengeful Russians. Now their sharp-suited descendants are busy bailing out half of Europe. Incredible.
Economics aside, they also happen to be right on the cusp of technical innovation. According to an article on the website of The Wall Street Journal, acronyms like MP3 and LCD exist due to German inventiveness. Although in my mind both these creations take a backseat to one of the most astounding pieces of Teutonic engineering I’ve sampled in ages. The new Porsche 911 Turbo.
But before I get down to brass tacks, some context — 40 years ago Porsche unveiled its very first 911 Turbo at the Frankfurt Motor Show. And straight out of the blocks it was something of an animal: a schizophrenic pit bull that harboured no qualms about savaging the limbs of its millionaire owners. Do the wrong thing on the wrong road and the 930 would suddenly pendulum into the nearest wall. And normally backwards too, for a little added effect.
This earned it a fearsome reputation among automotive enthusiasts. In fact in many circles these early turbocharged cars were known simply as “The Widowmaker”. Spooky. But those brave mortals who worked out how to tame its feral ways soon discovered that this was an exceptionally capable sports car. Porsche acknowledged this fact and decided to keep the Turbo rolling off the production line. And little by little, bit by bit, it became safer and friendlier (not to mention faster) with each ensuing generation. Which brings me back to the crux of this story.
Pretty much a sheet-metal metaphor for modern-day Germany, the new Porsche 911 Turbo cuts a low-key but powerful presence. Visually speaking there are more exciting cars. A Ferrari or a Maserati will incite more pedestrian whiplash. But those who prefer looking quietly assertive will appreciate what Porsche has done to differentiate the Turbo from its less-endowed siblings. Besides scoring the broadest shoulders of any new 911 (28mm wider than the Carrera 4S I drove earlier this year), it also gains great big air-sucking side scoops and no fewer than four exhaust tailpipes. But what really sends your inner 10-year-old into a wild-eyed frenzy is the rear wing that rises automatically at high speeds to keep those planet-sized 20-inch Pirelli tyres stuck to blacktop. It’s a bit like something you’d find on a fighter jet. As is the fiendishly clever chin spoiler hidden beneath the front apron. On most supercars this feature is permanently fixed. Which means that it gets ripped off whenever you roll across a speed bump or an underground parking ramp. Not so with the 911 Turbo. Around town, when you don’t need downforce, it stays retracted. But drive the car as it was meant to be driven and it quickly extends into one of two preset positions. Clever.
The real Germanic genius lies in the way the Turbo drives. And because their car comes armed with so much brute power, Porsche decided that the best place for us
journalists to experience it without dying or being arrested was at the new Bilster Berg Drive Resort in central Germany. Built atop an old Nato munitions depot, this is basically a Disneyland for well-moneyed petrolheads: a super speedway where you can get intimate with your automotive flame of the moment.
I’ve been around many different tracks in many different Porsches. But none is as speech-robbingly rapid as the Turbo S I’m strapped into here. With slightly more muscle than the standard car (plus a few more driver aids and stronger ceramic brakes), it whooshes down straightaways like a possessed dragster. The scenery blurs by at such a rate that it feels like I’m being sucked through a wormhole into the future.
This is speed at its most visceral: an experience that drains the blood from my arms and face with every kick of the accelerator. The last time my inner juices sloshed about under so much duress was when I flew in an aerobatics plane. The G-force loads are brutal. As are the never-ending barrage of crackles and thumps that ricochet through the exhaust system.
Now you would expect such a machine to be hugely intimidating through corners. Especially when you consider the gene pool from whence it originates. Yet strangely enough this new 911 Turbo is something of a pussycat. And more Burmese than enraged Bengal Tiger at that. Simply because, and unlike its 40-year-old predecessor, it comes loaded with all manner of Nasa-rivalling technology to keep you plastered to the asphalt no matter how hairy the road conditions may get.
I will not burden you with anorak explanations or lots of unfathomable acronyms. But know that a new variable all-wheel-drive system, adaptive rear-wheel steering, and active anti-roll bars (optional on the Turbo, standard on the Turbo S) are the headline acts on a lengthy features list designed to give this Porsche idiot-proof handling when pushing the performance envelope.
Does this make the king of the current 911 range come across as a bit too safe and sterile? Perhaps. But this time around it was designed to flatter the average driver: to make him or her feel like a driving demigod even if he or she is not. Indeed, never before has such a life-alteringly fast and powerful Porsche been this effortless to pilot across such a broad spread of applications.
Which proves that the 911 Turbo, like the country that invented it, has come an enviably long way.