This spotless IROC RSR replica blends old-school style with modern technology to give a truly unique ride. John Glynn reports.

The secret of success is a question that has tested the greatest minds for centuries, and most agree that the recipe relies on two critical ingredients: hard work and vision. The historic backdrop to today’s photo shoot is a perfect example of hard work and vision, combined in perfect proportions to yield spellbinding results.

Taking a year to buy, a year to plan and two years to execute, this recently restored medieval manor house is unspeakably impressive, and is testament to the tenacity of its owners, Graham and Babs Stanton. The strength of their vision, and desire to create something truly special, meant that the budget for the rebuild bore scant relationship to market value. “I probably spent more than it’s worth to other people” muses Graham, “but nothing like what it’s worth to me”. The owner of our stunning feature car can sympathise completely.

Matteo Amoroso and I came to 911 ownership at the same time. In April 2004, while I was picking up my SC Cabriolet in the south of France, Matteo was flying to Baton Rouge from his then home in Charlotte, North Carolina; wrapping up a six-month Porsche hunt with the purchase of a Guards Red 1988 3.2 Coupe.

Having tracked Caterhams, Elises, Subarus and single-seaters in the UK before a new business venture lead to a Stateside move in 2002, Teo was no stranger to quick cars, and it wasn’t long before the US-spec 3.2 needed more power. Having weighed up the pros and cons of 3.4 build versus 3.6 transplant, Matteo eventually sourced a low-mile 3.6 engine, Euro ECU, handmade exhaust, RS clutch and full conversion kit from Steve Timmins at www.instant-g.com.

Eurowerks in Charlotte installed the new motor, along with wide arches front and rear, 9.5 and 11 x 17 inch Lindsey wheels on sticky BF Goodrich rubber, adjustable suspension and so on. Much fun was had with the Carrera until, in October 2005, a careless van driver ran the red 911 off the road and into oblivion. Driver and passenger emerged unscathed, but the car was a write off. There was only one way forward: buy the salvage and start again.

The original intention with the damaged ‘88 was that the chassis would be jigged, bodywork repaired and the car would go back on the road. But the Carrera had other ideas. The Celette bench could not fully straighten some of the points essential for good geometry, so the decision was taken to scrap the shell, and use the parts from the crumpled coupe to build something a little more exciting.

Choosing the look was a no-brainer. Teo’s love of the wide body impact-bumper look was already well established, especially when emblazoned with vivid early ‘70s paint. An article in one of the American magazines, about a wonderfully OTT ‘74 RSR replica, resplendent in silver with purple and blue graphics, sealed the deal on the car they were building: IROC racer all the way. When it came to colour, one shade stood out above all others: Mexico Blue.

Since fitting the 3.6 in the Carrera, Teo’s friends at Eurowerks had split their company into two parts, the original Eurowerks for servicing and Zuffenhaus for bespoke fabrication and race car preparation. The newly formed Zuffenhaus was no ordinary Porsche shop. As former art students, Keith Walters and Aaron Winans are devoted aesthetes, and R-Gruppe membership marks them out as dyed-in-the-wool hot rodders. In January 2006, Zuffenhaus found Teo a rust-free, non-sunroof ‘74 tub, which had already been widened as an intended race chassis. The rebuild ball was rolling.

The basic brief was fairly straightforward: the engine had to thrive on revs but be relaxed enough for everyday road use, the suspension had to be easily adjustable for street or track, and the cabin had to retain space in the back for the kids. With such a simple mission statement, Team Teo felt they could have the car ready for Easter that year. How we laugh now when we think back to those innocent days.

Steve Timmins was again charged with making the motor, and what a motor he would make, as Matteo opted for an immense specification. The heads were machined to use 52mm inlet and 43mm exhaust valves with enlarged 45mm ports. Valve guides were replaced and the case was modified, before being topped with a set of 3.9 pistons and cylinders from CMW, worked by beautiful Carrillo rods. Dougherty Racing supplied a pair of DC62 cams, to be teamed with CMW’s titanium valve train hardware. Jenvey throttle bodies manage the intake, with sequential injection controlled by a MoTeC M600 ECU.

With the engine build in progress, 400 miles away at Zuffenhaus, work on the chassis began. The first job was to prepare the ‘74 for the ultimate in suspension systems, about to arrive from Smart Racing and Cary Eisenlohr at ERP. A jig was made and the front towers were cut away to weld in Smart Racing camber boxes. The rear towers were braced and reinforced to permit the use of coilovers. Then the front and rear floorpans were modified to allow for fitting of the infinitely adjustable and highly authentic 935 suspension setup from ERP. The widened rear arches were removed and replaced with the early-style flares from the Carrera. Rot was discovered in the front tank support, so that was replaced with a brand new panel.

Teo had fallen in love with the G50 gearbox fitted to his ‘88 3.2, and wanted to retain the same transmission type for the RSR. The build was being blogged on the Pelican Parts 911 Technical Forum, and a chance exchange with board moderator Bill Verburg led to the purchase of a G50/31 transmission direct from Porsche in Germany.

The G50/31 is the six-speed transmission used in the 993RS, and features some very trick engineering, including steel syncros, Porsche Motorsport 40/65 LSD, upgraded mounts and RS short-shift rods. The ‘74 shell had obviously not been built with the G50 in mind, so rather than modify the existing tub to fit, Zuffenhaus replaced the tunnel and rear section with the same section from a 964 shell.  

Fitting this part of the project into one paragraph makes it sound like a piece of cake, but the reality was quite a different story, as Keith Walters explains. “A modification to the existing floor/tunnel and custom mounting arrangement for the six-speed would perhaps have been easier, but far more common, and not nearly as clean. From a driver’s perspective, the 993RS ‘box defines this car - it may well be the heart of the project altogether. We ended up retaining the raw, light feel of an original 911 chassis with the chosen construction method”.   

Too much painstakingly precise metalwork went into the shell of this unique automobile to list it all here. Everywhere you look, there are tasty tweaks and subtle alterations. The oil tank for example, is a relocated 964 example, slid along the chassis to a position in front of the rear axle. That alone is slick enough, but Zuffenhaus have also recessed the oil lines into the inner wing, to give plenty of clearance for the wide 315/35 R17 rubber stretched over Mike Lindsey’s beautiful 11-inch rims. This is amazing attention to detail, and it doesn’t stop there.

The IROC initially ran Brembo GTP brakes, but these were removed in favour of 930 calipers, with a custom-made RSR-style handbrake mechanism. The switch will ultimately allow Matteo to run 917-style brakes under bespoke centrelock wheels, currently being created especially for the car. A Fabcar twin master cylinder pedal box with adjustable bias controls the one-off stoppers.

With the Turbo brakes came Turbo trailing arms, modified before being fitted to the 964 floorpan alongside the 935-style spring plates and Smart Racing coilovers - another complex operation. The springs: 425 lbs front and 550 lbs rear, are controlled by Fox dampers all round, matched with Smart Racing adjustable anti-roll bars; the rear ARB clamped securely in the vice-like grip of upgraded Wevo mounts.

Engine temperature is moderated by a 72-row Mocal oil cooler in the nose, exhaling via reproduction RSR ducting, with custom exits in the front wheel wells. The impeccably finished front compartment is an Aladdin’s cave for Porsche anoraks like myself, with the camber towers, bolt-in cross brace, fuel cell, fire suppression system, damper reservoirs and immaculately-finished wiring loom all vying for eyeball time. Killer details just keep on coming.

We move towards the interior, pausing to admire the Zuffenhaus single wiper conversion, the flush-fitting 993 front and rear screens and the TRE Motorsports mirrors. The lightened door opens to reveal yet more nerd-defying detail. The interior and exterior colours match perfectly, but though the Mexico exterior is finished in paint, the cabin, trunk, engine compartment and rear wheel wells have all been powder coated to give a wonderfully smooth finish.   

The gauge panel has been filled and welded flush, and custom LED-lit clocks contrast coolly against the brilliant blue metalwork. With a rotated 10k rpm tachometer, a 320 km/h speedo and a hand-built voltmeter and transmission temperature gauge replacing the timepiece, the bespoke North Hollywood dials are slicker than a snake soaked in Vaseline.

The big-vent dashtop from the defunct 3.2 Carrera perfectly complements the leather-trimmed Pole Position seats, which now sit on lowered rails atop carpet made especially to fit the modified tunnel. Looking up sees a hand-stitched Alcantara headliner, and though Teo suggests that the seat centres and steering wheel would benefit from being trimmed to match, I think it all looks great as it is. Three-point rear seat belts and a bespoke removable roll bar mean that Matteo’s little girls have not been forgotten, and rides in Papi’s Blue Porsche definitely feature in their future (Papi meaning Daddy in Italian).

With three confirmed Porsche fanatics exercising free rein over the finer details, unfettered by the confines of a carefully controlled budget, the crusade to build one man’s ultimate classic 911 was always going to produce a unique machine, and the Mexico Blue beauty is most certainly special. But when we first meet, it is not quite in peak mechanical condition.

At the time of our pictures, the RSR had only been in the UK a few weeks and had struggled since its arrival. En route to the shoot, it was drinking fuel faster than a fighter jet and detonating badly. It had also begun to cut out randomly, due to some suspect ignition and injector wiring. To cap it all, the exhaust, though beautifully manufactured, was louder than a Spinal Tap guitar stack, totally ruling out daily driver duties and trackdays with a noise limit of under 115dB, and leaving Matteo a very unhappy bunny indeed.

Our shoot location on the Oxfordshire/Northamptonshire borders is near a number of Porsche specialists, so once snapper Howell has cleared off with his camera full of pictures, I suggest a visit to Bob Watson Engineering. Bob is a friend and an official MoTeC dealer, and with a lot of valuable experience with road and race Porsches running MoTeC systems, he is the obvious man to ask for advice.

At Bob’s, Matteo outlines his concerns and Bob outlines possible explanations. He also shows us one of Roy Lane’s repackable Tech Craft exhaust systems, which he recommends for track day cars, and which Roy himself uses on his uber-lightweight 911 3.8 hillclimbing special. After watching a 280bhp 3-litre Tuthill rally car being tuned on the in-house dyno, Matteo decides this is the place, and we leave the car for Bob to look at.

A week later, the news is in and it’s all good. A new exhaust has been fabricated and fitted, reading a mere 102dB and making the car much more user friendly. The ECU and injectors have been rewired, and the race spark plugs have been swapped out for softer items, more suited to regular road use. Bob has also remapped the RSR on his dyno, and the whole package is working as intended. Time to drive it.

Spring has definitely sprung when I arrive back at Middle Aston. The sun is out, the roads are dry and the land exudes the energetic aroma of growth. The car is rolled out from between a 935 and a 964 RSR and, as the silky smooth motor warms up in the dappled sunlight, a new life in the UK seems a much more positive prospect. Coffee finished and Porsche world put to rights, the blue meanie is all mine for a while.

Rolling onto the back road that links Bob’s workshop with the rest of the world, the remapped RSR displays impeccable poise at the lesser throttle positions. The new exhaust is the epitome of civility: not too loud and not too quiet, with a throaty burble that rises to a purposeful thrum as the six throttles open ever wider. The driving position is set up for Matteo, who’s a good three inches taller than me, but it is comfortable and confidence inspiring. Sliding the seat slightly forwards on the runners, the gearlever falls readily to hand, while the Rennline pedals are perfectly positioned. The throttle action is light and positive, and the car pulls away with no complaints.

The bigger Lindsey Fuchs and wide tyres track the road surface noticeably, but not uncomfortably so. This wandering over potholes is an exaggeration of a 911’s natural tendencies, thanks to wide rubber and pronounced negative camber all around, but the car follows a generally straight line, and at no time do I feel as if it requires reining in. Tramlining on uneven surfaces will reduce when the smaller diameter centrelock wheels on slightly narrower rubber are fitted, and some of the negative camber is dialled out for the road.

As the well-worn country lane opens into a wider main road with a better surface, the skittish steering motion mellows into a settled feel through the Momo wheel, which encourages a bit more gas. A friend following in his 217bhp SC Coupe seems to be keeping up with no apparent effort, which is a little disappointing. I remember the car’s 7,600rpm rev limit and remonstrate myself internally: must try harder.

Our route heads off the main drag and on to a deserted link road with lovely new Tarmac, whereupon I seize the moment and throw open the throttles wide in third, to see what the motor is really capable of. With no pause for thought, the RSR rockets forward at a prodigious rate, emptying the rear view mirror in a matter of milliseconds. This is much more like it.

The road writhes sinuously through the Oxfordshire countryside, and increasing familiarity with the IROC encourages more daring behaviour. Full throttle over slightly broken surfaces is a breeze, the expensive suspension proving its worth: a low-riding torsion bar 911 driven spiritedly over this surface would require a much firmer hand. The 1,050 kilo RSR takes it all in its stride, the car’s performance envelope clearly far wider than your average 911 hot rod.

Building this spectacular car from only the best components available is borne out as a great move by Matteo, as it displays stunning levels of power and grace in anything I try throwing at it. But what really sets this car on another level compared to anything else I have ever driven is the gearbox; it is superb on an epic scale.

Many modern six-speed transmissions are badly reworked fives; ill-conceived concoctions designed almost solely to get new cars past stringent emissions testing. Not this one. I don’t generally support the theory that the G50 gearbox used in the later 3.2 Carreras is a revolution when compared to a good-condition 915 as fitted to the earlier cars, but the G50/31 transmission used here transforms what some might see as a beefed-up 3.6 transplant into a true thoroughbred.

At first glance, the stubby little shift lever would not be my personal choice in a pukka 1974-shelled RSR recreation: I would prefer something a little more period. Put it in the palm of your hand however, and that point of view evaporates in the quick flick from second to third, through fourth and into fifth. The clutch action is beautifully balanced between feel and flow, there is no noise transfer from the gearbox into the chassis and the RS shift rods exert absolute control over the perfectly-spaced ratios at all times. As Zuffenhaus correctly assured me before I ever drove the blue bullet, the transmission defines this car.

A few days later, I return the RSR to Matteo through Monday morning rush hour traffic, and the package is a pleasure to use, both on and off my busy motorway drive. The supportive seats, big mirrors, responsive brakes and delicate shift all contribute honourably to a stress-free drive. The remapped motor returns excellent mpg at sensible road speeds, while the punchy throttle response allows me to slip seamlessly from slow lanes into faster ones.

The exhaust is aurally delicious, its mellifluous notes neither boomy nor brash, making cruising at 75 mph/3,000 rpm in sixth a real delight. In the two hours it takes to reach my destination, the car demonstrates ample ability as an accomplished all-rounder, and handing the keys back to a genuinely overjoyed owner is the perfect conclusion to my time with this incredible vehicle.    

Some might look upon those lucky enough to afford the build of their ultimate 911 as simply glorified cheque signers, but to regard this car and owner in that way would do both a real disservice. Matteo is a proper Porsche enthusiast, and his modern-day interpretation of an iconic 911 is an absolute cracker. Should all of Teo’s dreams end in such rewarding reality, he’ll be the luckiest man on earth, and deservedly so in my opinion.

Thanks to: Graham and Babs Stanton for the stunning location.