Mention carbon fibre to most Porsche fans, and their thoughts turn to prototype racers like the RS Spyder. But Rainer Armitt’s outwardly standard SC hides an enviable selection of secrets up its significantly lightened sleeves. John Glynn reports.

Once upon a time in Leverkusen, Germany (1997 to be precise), an early 911 SC Coupe was bought by one Michael Roock, of Porsche tuners Roock Sportsystem fame. The car was quite superb, with fewer than 50k careful miles covered in 19 years. The initial intention was a simple valet, to bring the car back to showroom condition. But within a few days, the urge to improve had triumphed, and the spotless SC had been stripped for an almost complete rebuild.

Though manufactured in 1978 (the year the SC won the Monte Carlo rally), this 911 is a 1979 model year car, an excellent choice of base vehicle. Firstly, it had a fully galvanised shell, so the bodywork was in great shape. Secondly, it had been delivered without a sunroof, not an easy thing to find post-’78, and a perfect starting point for a lightweight special. Finally, buyers’ guides of the time had short-sightedly labelled the early SCs as ones to avoid, so they were relatively cheap, even in immaculate condition. Anything the Roock brothers did was likely to be regarded as an improvement.

The earliest SCs were down on power compared to later models (180bhp as opposed to 204bhp from the 1981 model year), but the rated output of the first SCs was more political than mechanical. The management of the time had decided to phase out the anachronistic 911 in favour of the 928, and the run-out model could not be seen to be faster than the more expensive V8-engined flagship.

The early SC shares most of its motor with the preceding Carrera 3.0, which produced an easy 200 bhp. The SC engine uses a slightly bigger 9-bolt 3.3 Turbo crankshaft, but almost everything else is the same. Revised cam timing meant power was down against the Carrera, but this somewhat devious device gave the new arrivals better torque lower down the rev range, making them irresistible driving machines. (more…)

 A 911 Turbo specially ordered from the factory by a Le Mans Porsche racer could be expected to be a little bit special. It is. John Glynn reports.

“Is this the one with the green seats?” asks a fellow 911 owner, as I emerge from the sublime 930 in the paddock at Donington Park circuit, following a spirited drive through the Derbyshire countryside. The ‘love it or hate it‘ leather interior is perhaps the principal reason for this car’s growing notoriety, but there is more to the story than quirky custom trim. JWR 195Y was originally built for a racer who drove his way to the Le Mans podium, in one of the greatest 911s of all time: the Kremer 935. This Turbo has provenance with a capital ‘P’.

When Francois Trisconi signed with the late Erwin Kremer for the 1979 24 Heures du Mans, he had already enjoyed some success at the greatest race in the world. 1976 saw a respectable debut in Georges Morand’s Lola Ford, with fellow Swiss drivers Morand and Andre Chevalley. Following 279 racing laps, the car finished fifteenth, taking a class win. In 1977, an engine failure forced Team Chevalley to retire their BMW-powered Cheetah after nine hours. Twelve months later, the boys were back in town, this time in a Cosworth DFV-powered Inaltera built by Jean Rondeau. The Swiss team again finished the race, reaching a worthy P13.

In 1979, Trisconi jumped ship to Porsche Kremer Racing, settling into a 935/77A, car number 40, alongside Laurent Ferrier and Francois Servanin. Ferrier and Servanin had been partnered at Le Mans twice previously, once in a 934, and Servanin had also completed the previous year’s event in a 911 RSR, taking a GT class win, one place ahead of Trisconi and one behind Ferrier’s Chevron. Here were three evenly matched drivers then, all capable of a class win over a race distance.

Fifty-five cars took the start on Saturday, with Trisconi doing his first stint after two hours. Early on Sunday morning, the heavens opened and a wet race ensued, minimising the performance advantage of the prototypes. Almost 3,000 miles later, the ballistic Kremer 935 K3 was first past the post, driven by Klaus Ludwig and the enigmatic Whittington Brothers. Second was the Barbour Racing 935, Paul Newman sharing driving duties with Dick Barbour and Rolf Stommelen. The final podium place went to Trisconi and friends in a third 935, which had almost been an afterthought for the Kremer team, running as it was in an outdated Vaillant livery from the previous season. This was the first year a 911-based racer had won at Le Mans. (more…)

The impact bumper 911 series generated more landmark cars than any Porsche model range before or since. We recently gathered ten excellent examples together for a back-to-back test, to profile their progression from self-conscious stand-in to puff-chested powerhouse. John Glynn reports.

The story of the impact bumper 911s is often told in derisory tones. Faced with unavoidable new safety and emissions legislation in the critical American market, Porsche apparently ruined its rear-engine rebel by fitting chunky bumpers and clunky fuel injection, exorcising the soul of the machine in the process. Nothing could be further from the truth.

Rather than emasculating the much-revered original, the impact bumper (IB) cars built on the appeal established by their illustrious predecessors, and went on to achieve great things in their 16-year lifespan: spreading the Porsche gospel to a much wider audience, and pulling the 911 back from the brink of extinction. Our journey begins in March 1974, when the immaculate Orange 911S seen here was delivered to its first owner.

From 1974, the standard production line-up went from entry-level 911, to 911S and Carrera, rather than the T, E and S of previous years. All engines on offer for the 1974 model year displaced 2.7 litres, and the increased capacity meant more power. The 150bhp base 911 had 20 more horses than the 911T, the mid-range 911S had 175bhp against the 2.4E’s 165, and the 2.7 Carrera used the same 210bhp 911/83 engine as the classic ‘73 Carrera RS.

Retaining mechanical fuel injection on the 2.7 Carrera meant that, due to stringent new exhaust gas legislation, the car could not be sold in America. Instead, the company were forced to fit pollution-complaint detuned S engines to Carreras sold in the USA, until the model was eventually phased out in 1975.

The new 911 and 911S engines used much cleaner Bosch K-Jetronic fuel injection, but they were not the first 911s to do so. The Continuous Injection System had also been fitted to the last US 911Ts, the so-called 1973.5 cars. K-Jet was a great leap forward, giving better economy and lower emissions and, with the 1973 fuel crisis still fresh in peoples’ minds, K-Jet ensured that the ‘74 cars remained an attractive ownership proposition.

Attractive is a word not always used to describe the impact bumper cars, but the clean profile created by the curved aluminium bumpers agrees with me entirely. While most other manufacturers struggled to integrate the new American legislation on minimum bumper heights, Porsche pulled off a design coup that still looks crisp, well over thirty years later. (more…)

Early 911s have enjoyed tremendous success in historic rallying, but the next generation of rear-engined racers is about to be unleashed on the classic rally stages of Europe. Total 911 was recently given exclusive access to a real contender before it turned a wheel in anger. John Glynn reports.

As a car-obsessed kid growing up in the west of Ireland, motor sport meant only one thing: rallying. Supermen like Alen, Vatanen and Mikkola driving cars that looked like ours, down roads that looked like ours, but at utterly unfathomable speeds.

Modern-day world championship rallying is a pale imitation of what we grew up with. Today’s events are sanitised: media-friendly special stages in Cardiff’s Millennium Stadium are a far cry from flat-out fisticuffs through the Welsh forests. The current crop of WRC weapons is undeniably quick, but uninspiring compared to the rally cars of my youth. Thankfully, there are modern alternatives, and this 911 is a perfect example.

SWH 627T began life as a 1979 911 SC, which first came to England on holiday from France. While touring the UK, the little blue 911’s engine suffered a terminal failure, and the car was relayed to Francis Tuthill’s famous Wardington workshops. Faced with repatriation expenses and repair costs they could not afford, the owners decided to sell the car and cut their losses. 

Scant attention is paid to the SC’s rallying past, but the cars were widely campaigned. SCs were used in events as varied as the Safari Rally and the Manx International (where then-World Champion Röhrl was super-impressive on his island debut), before the SC RS burst onto the scene in 1984. But victory in the 1978 Monte Carlo Rally was the SC’s proudest moment; Jean-Pierre Nicolas taking the win, in a car built by local heroes the Alméras brothers.

Almost thirty years later, updated regulations were released for the MSA British Historic Rally Championship, opening the points-scoring positions to cars built up to 1981. Sitting in his office overlooking the forlorn French SC, Richard Tuthill recognised that the emergence of a whole new class in British historic rallying was too good an opportunity to miss, and a rally car was born. For their first SC rally build, Team Tuthill would pay tribute to the most famous SC ever: the Monte winner. (more…)