LANDAU BALLET
Performance exhaust specialist, Cargraphic, has created a new system for the 964. We pirouette plangently in the Pfalz vineyards…
We pirouette plangently with 964s in Pfalz.
You want loud? We can do a lofty number of decibels, no problem. In fact, if you fancy a flat-six soundtrack in place of that delivered by a flat-four, Cargraphic can probably accommodate you. Without doubt, the company’s engineers can make a diesel-driven Cayenne sound like it’s packing a petrol V8. The Landau-based firm’s latest venture is a complete exhaust system for the 964 and, to find out what all the fuss is about, we tested this powerful Porsche pipework on a couple of cars — one of each, normallyaspirated and turbocharged — belonging to Cargraphic proprietor, Thomas Schnarr, on his neighbourhood’s vineyard backroads.
As we discover, the exhaust systems aren’t today’s only attractions: the 964 free of forced induction turns out to be a Us-spec 964 America Roadster, and that’s quite something. In fact, it’s not a model that has ever strayed onto my radar previously, let alone been driven. Essentially, it’s a
Turbo-look 964 Cabriolet. How do you like your white meat, madam? Rare?
That’s good, because this is one scarce porker, with just 326 cars built in 1992, and only forty-seven examples finished in this creamy hue, which means that, as white goods go, it’s pretty novel. It’s an interesting Porsche in its own right, though not one to confuse with the 964 Speedster (936 units built out of an intended 3,000), which is based on the narrow-body Carrera 2 with a low, slanted windscreen and plastic humps over the hood storage niche.
It’s not that I have an axe to grind, but I do feel the Roadster moniker has been rather traduced by Porsche, which could have gone with a more austere spec car altogether, though there’s fair argument other such segment identities have also gone astray. For example, a classic Mini 1275 GT is some way removed from the concept of grand touring, despite what its makers would have you believe. The definition of a roadster is, traditionally, at least, an open-top sports car, of
which the hood frame and canopy are completely removable and can be left at home or stashed in the car’s boot. Very much the essence of a basic sports car, like an early MG MGB, Triumph TR4 or Lotus Elan, perhaps? Looking back inhouse, the 550 Spyder or 356 Speedster also fulfil the roadster stereotype, but when you want to sell cars and win market share, all bets are off.
In 1992, Porsche took the Roadster nameplate and played fast and loose with the raw concept, applying seventeen-inch Cup wheels and crossdrilled Turbo brakes on the Turbo-bodied 964 Cabriolet, raising it several stages higher than a traditional roadster in terms of sophistication, as demonstrated by an electrically operated cabriolet top and zip-out soft-window rear canopy section. It’s a rare bird, then, and, fortuitously, it’s what this Cargraphic modified drop-top is based on — a seldom seen 964 Werks Turbo Look (WTL) America Roadster.
This is also Thomas Schnarr’s personal plaything, considered virtually one of the family. So, although we’re here to check out the new Cargraphic 964 exhaust, this special Porsche takes precedence as feature car in its own right. Here’s the spec: painted Grand Prix White, endowed with Cargraphic’s white front indicator set, Cargraphic’s Rsr-style front chin-spoiler and Rs-style brake cooling ducts. The sills, wheel arches and both valances (front and rear) are from the late 1992 Turbo 3.6 — with Rs-look air channels next to the sidelight clusters — while the engine lid harbours the electrically operated rear wing of the normally aspirated 964, deploying at 75mph and retracting at 35mph.
The cockpit is equipped with 964 RS seats, upholstered in a combination of black leather and Houndstooth check (some call it Pepita) centre sections, with backs colour-coded Grand Prix White. It features RS lightweight door panels and decorative carbon inserts on the centre console. The controls include a 365mm thick-grip Alcantara-trimmed sports steering-wheel, gear knob top and handbrake lever inset with the Roadster logo, an alloy pedal set with rubber inserts, a fold-away windshield (there’s your roadster tweak) and a Becker Indianapolis radio.
WICKED WEAVE
In the engine bay, the heater pipe, air filter inlet pipe and alternator cover are manufactured from carbon-fibre. Power comes from the 3.6-litre flat-six, which has recently been reconditioned and fitted with Cargraphic’s RSC36 Tuning power kit. This comprises a mass airflow
meter with air inlet temperature sensor, DME chip and free flowing air filter and, most significantly, given the company’s stock-in-trade expertise, its 100cpsi, 130mm-diameter, high-flow Metal MS catalytic converter, plus dual-outlet silencer with two 2.5-inch (63.5mm) exhaust valves and black enamelled tailpipes. The new 964 Cargraphic exhaust system, in fact. The five-speed Getrag gearbox is likewise refurbished, with RS gearbox switch-rod and rosejointed lever bearing. Output is rated at 300bhp at 6,200rpm and 270lb-ft torque at 4,870rpm, topping out at 167mph.
The Roadster runs on twenty-spoke, eighteen-inch, three-piece Cargraphic Racing wheels, which have satin-matte black centres and dummy centre-lock fasteners with white securing pins. Fronts measure 8.5x18 ET46, shod with 235/40R18 Michelin Pilot Sport Cup 2, while the rears are 10.5x18 ET59, wearing 295/30R18 rubber. Suspension majors on Bilstein B16 PSS10 dampers, with polybushed suspension and steering, allied with a Cargraphic alloycarbon strut brace. Shrewdly, it also harbours Cargraphic’s Airlift Evolution kit (activated by a control switch on the dashboard) to elevate the nose when confronted by ‘sleeping policemen’. The entire braking system is sourced from the 964 Turbo 3.6.
There’s a 964 up on a hoist in the Landau workshop. Its new Cargraphic exhaust system is wonderfully ornate and marvellous in both its logic and complexity. As we peer upwards, Thomas describes the finer points of the system. “The newly designed exhaust valves are pressure-less closed, which means that, at start-up, the car is quiet, with all gases being directed quietly through the final silencer via the bypass valves, whereas with valves open, most of the gas stream flows freely through a second exit within the tailpipes. The sound it creates is reminiscent of the legendary RSRS, and as you will hear, it’s simply awesome!” A flick of the switch between the fuel gauge and the oil pressure gauge allows the driver to control the system to open and close the vacuum valves manually. “It’s a daily driver, if you want to use it like that,” Thomas avers. As someone who uses a rag-roof 986
Boxster as everyday wheels, I can easily appreciate how the 964 Roadster can be that too, though the zip-up rear window can be a fiddly two-person job, as we will discover later in the day.
COME FLY WITH ME
No such hassles with our second feature car — it’s a coupé! Thomas is also lending us his other pet Porsche, a 1991 964 Turbo 3.3 painted Ferrari Fly Yellow. Its distinctive external features include the ostentatious Cargraphic side stripes, a white indicator set and a rear window with wiper delete. In the cabin of the Turbo, the decoration is much subtler than the Roadster’s. There’s a full black leather interior, including 993 dashboard with 360kph speedo and mechanical boost gauge, trimmed with a carbon backing to the instrument binnacle, plus there’s carbon on the door handles, the internal door locks, the ignition key slot surround and the sill kickplates. The Turbo logo is embroidered in red on the fold-down back-rests of the rear seats. The car sports a 365mm diameter Cargraphic Sport steering wheel with thick-grip rim, while red seat belts contrast gaily with the bright yellow exterior. Controls also include a Cargraphic alloy pedal set, while musical entertainment is provided by a Becker Cascade Pro radio with Alpine boosters front and rear.
Its 3.3-litre flat-six twin-turbo Mezger unit develops 345bhp at 5,750rpm and 331lb-ft torque at 4,500rpm, scuttling up to 177mph maximum speed. This is achieved with the benefit of the desirable X50 Power Kit, plus Sport air filter and a huge Längerer & Reich intercooler (datestamped 17th January 1991), a 100cpsi high-flow Metal MS catalytic converter and a Cargraphic twin-pipe silencer with two oval tailpipes, transmitted via the five-speed G50 gearbox. Like the Roadster, suspension componentry includes Bilstein B16 PSS10 sport suspension, augmented by a Cargraphic alloy strut-brace, Cargraphic polybushed suspension and steering joints and uniball-jointed rear wishbones. The brakes are those of a 993 Turbo, employing Big Red calipers, while the wheels are those smart, three-piece eighteen-inch Cargraphic Racing rims, measuring the same as those on the Roadster, but with gloss black centres and Conti Sport Contact 2 black circles.
It’s time to break the silence and give both cars a go. The weather forecast isn’t great for later in the day, leading us to opt for motoring first and to take care of the details later. It’s only a few miles out of majestic Landau before we reach the hilly vineyards. Western Germany’s Pfalz region produces delicious wines — Dornfelder and Bacchus, for instance — and is the second largest German wine-making region after Rheinhessen to the north. The ranks of vines are distinctly autumnal in hue now, postharvest, and the roads that bisect them slightly more worse for wear than I remember from when we were last here, two or three years ago.
I start off in the yellow Turbo, following the Roadster. Its bulging Super Sport Turbo wheel arches draw the eye to the curvature of its rotund rump. The lack of a rear wing bestows ambiguity, like a 911 from the early 1970s in pre-aero days. And then, of course, as we gather speed, out slides the electrical wing and the illusion fades. We soon arrive at our photoshoot location and swap cars. I’m now driving the Roadster.
It’s wonderful to be in a very tight 964, with all the controls spot-on. The shift is quite notchy, which is to say that it feels slightly more positive than the regular G50 shift, though I’m taking care not to hurry it through the gate. To all intents and purposes, it feels like a brand-new 964, though the odometer says it has covered 35k kilometres, which goes some way toward explaining why everything is so, well, hunky dory. Certainly, the houndstooth seats and the Kevlar trims around the door handles set things off rather nicely. The Alcantararimmed wheel is cosy to the touch, all very neatly stitched. Acceleration is typical 964, though not what I’d expect of an RS on the open road, given the tweaks it’s had during its rebuild, but is
perfectly adequate for Roadster motoring — entirely capable when swishing up and down the vintners’ backroads. Being a normally aspirated car, there’s none of the frantic, wide-eyed speed that comes in Turbo territory.
The benefits of the Cargraphic tune-up become clearer the more I drive this car, manifest in the alacrity of progress and tautness of handling. Being wide-bodied, the Roadster is running broader boots, and I’m aware of the fatter tyres when cornering at modest speeds. Certainly, when turning around, they feel weighty, though there’s no sense of untoward friction when on the move. The Roadster is a smooth drive. It’s a real pleasure to have the top down on an autumn day (the car’s efficient heater helps in this regard). The Roadster’s Rs-style door thongs are shorter than I’d have expected, but I can get my finger in the loop, rather than pulling the whole thing, and that’s a more tactile, less clumsy means of opening the door.
AURAL FIXATION
Bearing in mind our exhaustive (if not exhausting) quest, I flick the switch to open the exhaust valves and change the tone and volume of the engine note, which segues into something more like what you’d hear from a race car. Whether you want to listen this all the time is another matter — with the top down, the exhaust is plenty loud enough in normal mode, but for the emotional thrill, bringing extra noise certainly has the box ticked. Boy racers never grow old.
It’s time to swap. I’m back in the 964 Turbo, and now, driving it a bit more earnestly, I notice a certain amount of lag until the turbo starts to come in at 3,000rpm in third gear, and then at 4,000rpm, boost suddenly rushes in and I get the full thrust of forced induction. Again, this car is beautifully set up and smooth to drive, especially around corners in the vineyards. The engine loves to rev right round to 6,000rpm, by which time it’s producing a really guttural roar, and it certainly means business between 4,000rpm and 6,000rpm, dispensing the scream of the afterburner siren wail. When the turbo kicks in, the car blasts forward rapidly, yet it’s eminently controllable and not the hooligan it could be. Then again, it’s the 3.3-litre Turbo, not the 3.6.
Both of Thomas’s cars are beautifully balanced 964s. They feel nicely weighted, and the whole relationship of the controls to one another matches perfectly. The
steering, handling behaviour, turn-in, throttle response and gearshift are spot on in each Porsche. Acoustically, these cars are simply magnificent.
We finish our shoot in the nick of time: it starts to rain, and I pounce on the Roadster and power the top closed. Here’s the paradox: the main canopy operates electrically and totally efficiently, but the soft rear window is a different matter, and we scramble to get the zip pulled across the width of the car, two of us working from both inside and outside, whilst striving not to let the plastic kink itself. After a damp drive back to base, an amused Thomas describes the benefits of the new 964 exhaust in more detail. “We’re producing a new GT exhaust system for 964s, with catalytic converters and heating system. It will also make use of pressure-less closed vacuum valves. In other words, the valves are default closed, meaning it doesn’t need a vacuum to actually close it. The advantage of this valve is that the car starts quietly, unlike the PSE or the factory cars, which start up with a ‘scream’, and once the actuator supplies this vacuum from the inlet manifold, it closes the flap — after two or three seconds the exhaust system is quiet.” Obviously, the Cargraphic setup is rather more sophisticated than stock. It starts off without much noise — to the delight of your neighbours — and, when you feel like it, you flick the volume switch and the noise opens up. “As a matter of interest, we’re also developing a 964 exhaust system in GT3 look with a Singer-replica centre outlet,” Thomas smiles.
We check out the Roadster’s noselift kit, another benefit in an urban environment. The original compressor is hooked up to the air-lift control unit, which is housed within the rim of the space-saver spare wheel to ensure it doesn’t command any additional boot space. It raises the front of the car by 55mm at the wheels and about 75mm at the spoiler — a supplementary sophistication for when you have to do something like clear a speed bump or drive onto a ferry. “This was something we offered to prevent the front splitter and airdam from being ruined when going over bumps in the road and drainage gullies. It’s been a successful seller, especially in America.”
We’ve arrived at a time where a normal 911 is less interesting than something that’s been moderately tweaked. That’s what we’ve got with these two Cargraphic 964s. We’ve loved this company’s output for as long as we can remember. Indeed, I run one of its silencers on my Boxster and I remember watching a pair of silencers being made for my old 996 in the firm’s Devon foundry. Yes, you read that correctly: Cargraphic may be a German company, but its exhaust systems are made in England. The sad part is that only you and your mechanic are ever going to appreciate the beauty of the serpentine artwork bolted to the underside of your Porsche. Sonically, it’s another matter — everyone can hear it! And few sounds are as stimulating to the aural senses as finely crafted exhaust notes. My 996 dispensed it, and these two 964s certainly do. Sounds of silence? Not likely!