I recently fell in love with a 2005 Porsche 911 Carrera S. The car was flawed in many ways, but it was much, much, much more right than wrong, and I haven’t been able to get it out of my head since. More than anything else, I’ve been yearning to learn how the 911 changed after its 2009 refresh (997.2). Did it sweeten its siren-song engine with more get-up and go? Was the sultry whispering of steering and chassis mated to better control of the 911’s curvaceous body? These are questions I felt like I must answer.
Then an opportunity arose to test drive a 2011 Porsche 911 Carrera. This was not the first rendezvous with the 997.2 I’d imagined—the 997.2 Carrera is down by 10 hp from the 355 hp 997.1 Carrera S that made me a believer—but I could not resist a chance to slip into the driver’s seat.
Immediately, the car is familiar. The seating position is flawless, and the seat is comfortable and cozy. I did not mind that the interior is lacking full-leather trim. The tightly-wrapped, driver-focused design and the great outward visibility are more than enough to please me, never mind the all-black plastic dash.
For weeks, contrary to evidence, I’ve been convincing myself that I could do the daycare run in a 997 911. I’ve watched the 911 School Bus commercial, peered in the back of every 911 I’ve passed, scoured Rennlist for positive reinforcement, and even purchased a car seat that reportedly fits in the minuscule rear seats. I finally met a real live owner who did install a car seat…and he said he stopped driving his daughter around in the 911 because she was damaging the front seat with her kicking.
Looking in the back of today’s 911, my hopeful optimism turns to quiet dismay. There is next to no room between the miniature rear bucket and the front passenger’s seat. The chance of mom, dad and baby leaving the house together in the 911 is nil. Additionally deflating is the fact that the front seat only half-heartedly folds forward; no standing room on the rear floor is opened. The strategy I used to get my daughter in the recent Camaro SS—kid climbs into rear footwell, father hoists kid into seat, and buckles her up—is defeated by the tight ingress. (My back might end up defeated too.) The 911 looks like too much of a hassle for daily daycare runs.
Oh well. There’s still driving to enjoy and enjoy it I do. The 997.2 has 95% of the lovely steering and seat feel of the 997.1 S. The 3.6L engine sounds great if a little quieter than the 997.1 S. I’ll chalk up the volume difference to the absence of a dual-mode sports exhaust. On the highway, the new car benefits from less hum and drum from tires and wind.
Whereas the 997.1 S had an adjustable suspension, with a soft mode that was a little sloppy in the corners, the 997.2 has a fixed suspension. No matter that it lacks adjustment, the 997.2 strikes the right balance of tightness and comfort. (I didn’t do any limit cornering, so I can’t say if the body and the rear engine weight are better controlled in the new car.)
As with other Porsches, the 997.2 masks its speed, necessitating additional speedometer checks during highway cruising. Blasts away from stoplights and down freeway on-ramps feel just as rapid in the 345 hp 997.2 as they did in the 355 hp 997.1 S. The newer 911 is quick but never frantically powerful. I do like a little fear with my acceleration, so I’d hold out for a 997.2 S (385 hp) to get more punch.
The automatic gearbox could be the biggest differentiator between my prior test drive and today’s. The 997.2 received the critically acclaimed Porsche dual-clutch gearbox. PDK performs seamless shifts, getting its job done in the background without manufacturing drama of its own. Even though I panned the 997.1 S’s manual for some looseness and lack of feel, moving to PDK does diminish my enjoyment of the car since I no longer have to time my dance steps to the drivetrain’s beat.
Mostly though, the 2011 911 Carrera drives and steers like I remember and love. Versus the 997.1, the 997.2 (and the options list of this car) trades a smidge of excitement for a scoop of refinement. It seems like a fair exchange for making the world’s best driving machine that much friendlier to drive every day.
Mike's Steering Column 