My 1986 Porsche 911 Carrera

The Trials and Tribulations of Owning A Dream

 

  •   Why is my dream/reality car an Old-School Porsche 911?
    • Age 2-3. I am a car nut. I am Toddy Tires. I know the names of all cars, even though I cannot read anything other than the bottom of my HotWheels collection, built up $1 at a time from Target. Daddy drives a bad-ass Nova bodied Chevelle, and ironically, a 2 cylinder Honda mini-car.
    • Age 4, the Netherlands. Exposed to my first 911, a silver police car piloted in rapid fashion by 2 white helmeted officers. My parents have a picture someplace.
    • Age 4-5, boulder Colorado. White 911 Targa parked nearby a playground in the mountains catches my car-on-the-brain eye and leaves me stunned.
    • Age 11, back in Holland. A white and neon-orange police interceptor zips traffic effortlessly and is found parked at a station. Oma and Opa humor me, we stop at the station. Its a targa, in the sun, just literally glowing. I decide I will be growing up to be a Dutch Highway Patrolman.
    • Age 11-16. Porsche poster porn, "Road & Track" statistics and Geeky friends. Ned tells a first hand account of a blue 930 in San Diego spinning the tires every shift through third gear. I favor the Euro machines to Greg's older brothers 69 Camaro thats always crashed or in the shop.
    • Age 19-21. Going to Cornell, really pissed at "kids" driving Porsches around - what is left to aspire to?
    • Age 27. My California boss Phillip is packing a 993 cabrio he parks across 2 spaces at all times. The car is solid and heavy to the touch.
    • Age 28. Buy my first German car, beat up and now infamous "Darth Rabbit", 84 VW Cabriolet for an EV conversion (1998 folks). The dark-side of Euro hot-rodding bites me, ala the even more infamous "Cabzilla". Autocrossing and tuning take over. After owning Hondas and a Saturn (barf), there is no turning back.
    • Age 29-30. Live in Europe, again. Miss the stupid Darth Rabbit, and upon return, put it over the top for what it is.
    • Age 33. Have a kid, ditch the Cabrio for a souped and chipped VW Passat. Fast but souless. I start shopping 911's on Craigslist as a "hobby".
    • Age 34. Work is going well, I am "over" the parenthood shock and 911's are practical, really. Start test driving and looking for the right car.
    • Age 35. Find "the car". A coupe, aircooled, nice color and in good shape. It roars and makes big noises. Fast, but sensual. The owner tears up as he turns over the keys and I give him a check. First challenge is driving the hills of SF and getting home on vapors in the tank. How do I open the tank? ;) The adventure begins.
    • Every time I have driven the car since, I appreciate it more and more. Its just terrific. The engine sound while accelerating through 3rd gear at 60mph is one of best noises I will ever know.
    • Age 37. Gas at $4+, car spends a lot of time sitting. Spiders moving in, ants munching tree-litter on the cover. Ponder selling whenever I am not driving it - when I do its love all over again. Too many projects.
    • Age 39. New tires, new cover, tuning for mileage I remove the Weltmeister ECU to find the result more driveable. Kids still fit, $2k estimate for paint and the chromed wheels need a stripping. Driven Sundays and only in the rain!
    • Age 40. Nissan Leaf, a car too many. Trying to pass on the dream.