It’s 7:30 am when I hear the passing drone of a sports car outside my kitchen window. I glance at the street, excited, and see my neighbor Eddie slinking by in his midnight blue 1997 Porsche 911 (993) Turbo. Normally, spotting a car this rare would be the peak of my morning’s excitement, but not today! I’ve got a date to drive this 993 Turbo, and it’s here for me!
Well, sort of.
Eddie recently expressed interest in trying a Porsche 356, which is the exact model of Swabian metal my dad has owned for +45 years. So we set up a drive swap: Eddie will try the 1963 356, Porsche’s original air-cooled model, and my dad and I will try the 1997 993 Turbo, the final luftgekühlt 911. I think we are getting the better end of the deal!
So my dad and I are out of the house like a shot, bringing the 356 to the distant sounds of the idling 993 Turbo.
When we arrive, Eddie is ready to help me into the driver’s seat, but I ask Dad to drive first. Our Porsche swap is possible because of him, and he’s come a long way to make it happen. Plus, Eddie is my neighbor, so I hope to see this car again.
Dad takes a minute to settle in and learn the 993 Turbo’s controls. Like all 911s and the 356, too, the key goes to the left of the steering column. The 993 Turbo’s gearbox is a six-speed manual, with reverse being up and to the left. Eddie points out the buttons for the lights and defogger; we’ll want both on this cold and foggy morning.
Dad pops out of the driver’s seat to show Eddie the 356’s controls. I’m left in the purring 993 Turbo, scrunched up tight in the passenger’s seat. Could the seat slide aft another inch? There are electronic controls on the seat’s edge, but I can’t get it to move back.
This is my second time in a 993, and aside from the silver leather and factory airbag wheel, the cabin feels familiar from that first go. Everything is compact, well laid out, and offers excellent outward visibility. The cockpit feels cozy/snug, even though the 993 Turbo’s hips displace a fair patch of road.
Soon, Dad is back, belted, and slipping the clutch to put the 993 Turbo into motion. With a little jerk, the wheels begin to roll, and we’re on our way.
As we work our way down the hill and towards the highway, I try to soak up as much information as I can from the passenger’s seat about the 993 Turbo’s rolling dynamics.
It’s clear from the right seat that the 993 Turbo has a planted poise. My neighborhood’s boulevards are newly repaved, but the crew didn’t level the long-standing lumps and undulations. The 993 Turbo rides firmly over the bumps and dips, and the car’s body is busy, constantly tipping its shoulders and squatting its hips. I had expected the 993 Turbo to glide over undulations, but the suspension is old-school firm and doesn’t perform modern mag-ride miracles.
Next, we have a few blocks of stop signs. Dad is gradually getting used to the clutch’s high biting point, and his starts are getting smoother. We are driving at the low end of the rev range, below the twin turbos’ boost threshold, yet the 993 Turbo still has good torque and throttle response. I can tell that when Dad dips his foot on the accelerator, the 3.6L flat-six responds with caffeinated alacrity; we get a prompt push forward, even though the LCD boost gauge says the twins are still sleeping.
Entering the commercial district, the road becomes a series of multi-block straightaways punctuated by traffic lights. Dad finally holds the throttle long enough to wake up the turbos, and I hear a faint whooshing as they spin and gulp air. The forced-induction torque comes in smoothly, whisking us forward in an urgent rush that feels properly powerful. The engine’s song is the classic air-cooled croon, but somehow softened and quieted by the turbos. Eddie’s car still has its stock Euro exhaust—with the factory piping, the 993 Turbo speaks at civilized volumes.
Several part-throttle sprints are the warm-up for Dad’s grand finale, a full-bore rip onto the highway. As a passenger, the 993 Turbo’s 450 hp feels properly punchy as we blast onto the freeway. (For added oomph, this car was optioned with the WLS2 upgrade, Europe’s name for the X50 Power Pack.) The turbo thrust arrives seamlessly—there’s no wait, then wallop—and is sustained into the upper reaches of the rev range. The rate at which the mph is piling on is thoroughly modern, rivaling that of my 503 hp Mercedes-AMG GT S.
I want a turn at the wheel, so I have Dad hop off the highway and switch seats. The 993 Turbo’s driver’s seat is a compromise for my lanky frame. After adjusting the seat to reach the pedals, my right thigh is rubbing against the steering wheel. (Does the steering wheel tilt and telescope?)
I flex the car’s floor-hinged pedals and shake its six-speed stick to get a sense for the controls. The manual shifter has compact throws and a springy recentering force. I’m surprised by how much engine vibration comes through the stick; I can feel the motor spinning ten times clearer in my hand than I can in the seat or floor.
Once I have the car moving again, my first obstacle is a traffic circle. I gratuitously orbit the roundabout an extra time to get a sense of the steering and body control. My low-speed lap doesn’t tell me anything about the 993 Turbo’s dynamic capabilities—the car is bored with my timid pace—but it does reinforce my impression that the firm sports suspension fights body roll. I also note that the large-diameter wheel (at least by modern standards) quickly builds steering resistance when cranked to the left or right.
I exit the roundabout, pointing us up the highway onramp, and romp on the gas. In an instant, we are flying through second gear on our way to 70 mph. The 993 Turbo’s throttle response is instantaneous, and the boost builds and sustains, with slingshot-like smoothness and vigor. The engine’s character remains constant throughout the rev range, hearty and awake, but isn’t two-faced like some naturally-aspirated screamers I’ve met.
While the 993 is seen by many as the last classic 911, there is nothing classic about the 3.6L’s power delivery or turbo response. Lag-free and potent, the engine is as tight and right now as today’s best turbocharged motors.
Neither is there any hint of the 911 chassis’ wicked past. There is no tire squeal at all as the 993 Turbo puts down its power and bolts straight onto the highway. The car’s AWD system grips and goes, cleanly distributing power front and rear, so the rear tires are never overwhelmed by the ~400 lb-ft of torque.
Like Dad, I get just a few seconds on the highway before I have to exit again. My grand finale, though, is a few blocks of downtown Berkeley before our glorious arrival at Cars and Coffee.
Driving the 993 Turbo through still sleeping Berkeley is calmer than the car’s wild exterior suggests. I quickly acclimatize to the clutch and shifter, which are fluid and reasonably weighted. (I wouldn’t worry about driving the 993 Turbo in traffic.) The driver’s seat is nicely sculpted and padded—and springy enough to help absorb the bumps—so I’m comfortable at the controls. The brake pedal is tight and firm, and the pads bite progressively, giving me confidence that the car stops as well as it goes. The steering is easygoing, not tiresomely heavy or incessantly chatty; it communicates the cracks in the pavement, but is free of bump kickback. Essentially, the only intimidating things about the 993 Turbo in the city are its punched-out hips (will I rash a wheel?) and the car’s lofty replacement value.
My minute in paradise ticks close when I park at the Cars and Coffee. This morning was a meet-my-hero moment: the 993 Turbo was my favorite car from the Need For Speed Porsche Unleashed video game, as it was the prettiest of the bunch and the rare model that could notch 200 mph on the virtual autobahn.
In real life, the 993 Turbo meets all my expectations as curvaceous eye candy—I can’t think of a 911 shape that I adore more!
Today has also shown me that the 993 Turbo isn’t a feral rocket that requires steely resolve to drive. While the 993 Turbo is righteously rapid, it is hooked up for high-speed stability. Furthermore, it is thoroughly modern: this legend can quiet down and make mincemeat out of urban driving when needed.
Driving home from Cars and Coffee in the 356, I realize I’ve just experienced the first and last chapters in Porsche’s air-cooled odyssey in one morning. The slow and charming 356 was chapter one, and the effortlessly rapid 993 Turbo closed the book.
And those chapters in between? I can’t wait to read them!
(Please reach out if have an air-cooled 911 I can review.)
Mike's Steering Column 