TIME FOR T
History might yet be kind to the 991 Carrera T. Is the last narrow-bodied 911 a future gem?
As William Blake once said, hindsight is a wonderful thing. It’s been just over two years since we brought you our first drive of the 991 Carrera T, that being a continental drive from the mountains above Monaco to the bumpy B-roads of Britain (it’s in Issue 162, if you’d like to take a look). After our first drive with the Carrera T, we came away with mixed emotions. We loved the concept, Porsche bringing the ‘less is more’ axiom to its base 911 which, in fairness, has defined the genre of GT models further up the chain.
We liked how engaging the T was to drive, that added focus supplied by a Sports chassis, revised final drive borrowed from the Carrera S, a stubbier, manual shifter, and thinner glass in the rear to let a bit more engine noise in. This was a T absolutely worth the eight grand premium over a base (and comparatively more diluted) Carrera.
However, our bursts of pleasure at the wheel were matched by pangs of disappointment thereafter, not for what the T was, but what it could have been. That seven-speed manual gearbox remained, long a point of contention for the 991 era in these pages, its throw imprecise, the shift a little too clunky through each gate. It was no different in the T.
Several months later, head of the 911 production line, Dr Frank-steffen Walliser, confided that an early prototype version of the T was fitted with the GT3’S six-speed manual, but alas the production car came with the seven-speed instead. The revelation only added to our anguish; the six-speed would have been transformational. So near, yet so far.
Then there’s mass: Porsche claimed this to be a lightweight of sorts at launch, shaving 20 kilograms in mass from the base Carrera for a 1,410kg kerb weight thanks to thinner glass and, mainly, the deletion of PCM and air conditioning. It was a moot point from the get-go: very nearly all T’s had the latter two specced back in, nullifying any weight advantage Porsche claimed the T ever had. Journalists (us included) lamented the meek weight-saving exercise, particularly as it seemed that so much more could have been done. Maybe if the rhetoric from Germany had actually been ‘weighs the same as the Carrera, could be less if you take the PCM and air con out’, it might have gone down better than ‘lighter than a base Carrera… though you have to do without some basic comforts’.
The T was also open to the full rigour of options which in some areas only sought to blunt its potential: heavier, semi-automatic PDK transmission was available for it, as was a panoramic glass roof. Some examples, heaven forbid, were even specced with both!
Transmission dramas and options dilemmas muddied the T’s copybook somewhat, which is why we have no problem believing dealers who have admitted to us that selling the car has consequently proved difficult. Its main problem is that customers don’t really understand the model.
That’s clearly evident in the marketplace, where values of used Carrera Ts are down by quite a margin considering they’re only yet two years old, a sub 20K-miler currently available for around £70,000. Considering most were lavished with options which pushed their price up to nearer six figures from
“It’s only two years old, but such is the rate at which the T is blossoming, I don’t feel at all silly in calling the model a future classic”
new, that’s a negative swing by almost 30% – in just 24 months. For a nearly new Porsche 911 outside of the Turbo line-up, it’s a big fall.
And yet the Carrera T’s legacy might be shaping up quite nicely. The market (and indeed, the production line at Zuffenhausen just prior to that) has been taken over by the presence of 992s, offering new perspectives on this runout 991.
As I write, not a single manual 992 exists on UK shores, these all being derivatives of the Carrera range in either 2, 2S, 4 or 4S spec. All, incidentally, are widebodied, which is particularly significant: this means the T is the last traditional, narrow-bodied 911 Porsche will likely ever make. It’s a real ‘line in the sand’ moment for the 911 as a whole.
There’s new charm to be found in the T’s practical, day-to-day elements too. Thanks to the technological evolution – no, revolution – inside the 992, basic features we previously took for granted in the 991 T are now reminisced over fondly. For example, it has ‘normal’ door handles that don’t try and secondguess when you’d like to enter the cabin. The clocks feature an array of moving parts rather than drab digital screens. There’s an actual key you get to put into a physical ignition and twist to start the flat six, which awakens with a glorious, raspy bark, free of suppression by any gasoline particulate filters. Almost overnight, these once-standard features have become sorely missed. Slipping back into the Carrera T is like seeing an old friend.
Any rose-tinted specs and giddy quips about the good old days are soon put to bed, as we’ve some driving to do. Our destination is six hours north, on the deserted mountain roads of the Hartside Pass, Cumbria. I’d not driven these roads since our 964 v 996 v 991 Anniversary group test back in early 2014, and in truth I’d forgotten just how good they are. A mixture of faster, swooping sections with slower, squiggly bits to keep things interesting, the surface is smooth, the sightlines generous. It’s the ideal playground for the Carrera T.
Before we set off on our road trip, I chance upon an opportunity to weigh this particular Carrera T, albeit on a local weigh bridge. Pin-point accurate it probably isn’t, but the real-world weigh-in can give us some perspective on the T’s mass, this example being one of the lighter T’s you’ll find in the UK market. Its pros on the scales are lightweight PCCBS, rear seat delete, and no sunroof, its cons coming in the form of PCM, rear-axle steering, and air conditioning. The indicated mass of 1,440kg (no person or belongings in the car, fuel gauge hovering ominously just above the ‘red’ reserve light) shows it not to be exactly on the ‘featherlight’ side, but against the backdrop of other 991s (both nat-asp Gen1s and turbocharged Gen2s) it’s pretty favourable for a modern sports car.
We’ll park any further references to weight though, as with every mile I do along the Hartside Pass it’s becoming ever more apparent as to its irrelevance. The Carrera T is reminding me, perhaps more forcefully than at launch, that its charm centres around connection.
The example I’m peddling has just over 20,000 miles on the clock, its mechanicals looser, freer, than the early production car I last drove. It makes a difference too: the shift is much smoother, a large percentage of that notchiness eliminated. It’s still easy to fluff the odd gear change, and even with Sport mode enabled, which brings an auto rev-matching function into play, you can find third instead of fifth when changing down from sixth or even seventh. Those incidents are aggravating, but they are few and far between – generally speaking, the seven-speed ‘box has got better with age, and for the first time I decide I could live with its foibles if this were to be my 911 for life.
Flicking up and down through the T’s ratios is joyous, my left foot worked hard to keep the T on
boost in the mid range as the car darts seamlessly left and then right, following the curvature of the wandering asphalt edge.
The T might be narrower than the 992 across its rump, but its slim presence is most keenly felt at the nose, the T being far easier to place on a tight B-road than its predecessor. It doesn’t turn in as sharply as the 992, but that’s not to say the T’s front end is a comparative sloth – it just means you have to work a bit harder for it, which we quite like. Optional rearaxle steering plays a key part in keeping the Carrera T dextrous, and there’s so much low down torque, the car makes light work of powering out of the corner with only mild application of the right pedal, that reduced sound deadening allowing your ears to pick up on the high-pitched ‘whooooosh’ of the turbos spooling up under pressure.
The very concept of the T pays clear homage to the GT3 Touring and R further up the 911 food chain, but the T isn’t anywhere near as stiff as its two bigger brothers similarly dedicated to the art of driving. As such, the chassis is happy to move around more beneath me, the T feeling more playful at sensible speeds. There’s generally plenty of grip available, but not too much: a combination of the skinniest tyres you can spec on a modern 911 mixed with that Carrera S-spec final drive ratio means the T is more willing to break traction when you ask it to, particularly out of corners.
The T here has optional PCCBS, which in fairness it doesn’t need: the standard steel setup is fine and, if anything, better accommodates for heel and toe, as the sharpness of the PCCBS doesn’t really allow enough pedal travel to get your right foot over onto the accelerator for blip-shifts. That aside, it’s a great setup in here, the finish of the Sport-tex seats a welcome change from the usual leather, the Rs-style door pulls reminding me of the special drive I’ve just had as we pull into where the Hartside Cafe used to be, at the summit of this snaking pass, some 1,900 feet above sea level. I hop out. It’s windy up top, but the metallic ticking of cooling engine parts provides an indication of the fun that’s just been had, as does the whiff of warm tyres. Taking in the T’s extra details, like the Agate grey mirrors and side decals, and the clear rear screen free of a heated element, I realise I’ve just had the most fun at the wheel of a 911 for a long, long time. Did I get it wrong with my initial verdict on the Carrera T?
Forget the lightweight element. The T’s buzzword is ‘connection’, and you don’t have to be attempting warp speed to realise it. On the twisting tarmac of the Hartside Pass, the T is at home as I flick between third, fourth and even its fifth gear, sewing the corners together while maintaining a fast yet sensible speed on my way back down to civilisation.
That reference to speed is a crucial one: we never really get past 60mph, staying the right side of the legal limit as the T pitches and rolls its way through the plethora of corners which come thick and fast, communicating to me admirably without having to push on to a legally insane velocity. That’s a beautiful, rare commodity for a modern-day sports car, and something that’s arguably lost on the 992 generation that’s succeeded it, but also elsewhere in the 991.2
911 line-up. It’s only two years old, but such is the rate at which the T is blossoming, I don’t feel at all silly in calling the model a future classic. And yet the
T has so far cultivated no fanfare in this regard, no widespread nod to its genius in simplicity. In a world where bigger is better, and extra is everything, the T goes against the grain, offering a silent scream for what it doesn’t have, rather than what it does.
I liken the T to a modern-day 3.2 Clubsport: hindered at the time by the fact it was too similar to the base model on paper, its reality was nevertheless a far more immersive, engaging drive. That 3.2 Clubsport is revered today, so why can’t the same fate await this T? Those small tweaks really do add up to something special, and I feel it’ll only be realised by those in the know for some time yet.
The T has all the credentials to become a future gem, but its value now is readily apparent. Compare it to a GT3, for example. Forget about the lure of that GT badge and what that might do for residuals: in terms of pure driving experience, a 991.2 GT3 is not double the car of a Carrera T. And yet on the used market it’s double the price. That makes the Carrera T cracking value for money, and I predict it’s only going to get better as prices continue to fall while, conversely, its stock rises among enthusiasts.
Back to Blake. “Hindsight is a wonderful thing,” he said, “but foresight is better.” Perhaps in this scenario we can credit Porsche with delivering on the latter.
The last narrow-bodied 911, the last 911 with a soundtrack not stifled by gasoline particulate filters and, as evidenced here, possibly the last 911 that’s genuinely exploitable on the public road. A definitive yardstick in the 911’s lineage, the T accepts the mantle and carries it with conviction. I think, therefore, history will look very favourably indeed on the 991 Carrera T.