The 3rd Report (for those who could give be bothered…)
The first Big Drive.
Given my recent bemusement at having the epitaph “Porsche Wan**r” hurled at me, you might be forgiven for asking what I thought I was doing driving in high-speed convoy with another more recent, dark metallic blue, mid-engine Porsche down to Moe for the PCV hill climb at Haunted Hills?
Well, the answer is “enjoying myself, mostly”.
Such was my confidence in Stuart’s fettling that I barely gave a second thought to setting out at 0800 on a Sunday morning, hot on the heels of my cousin, Jim, erstwhile co-driver/navigator and recent Porsche convert, on an hour-and-a-half blat down to Gippsland. Similarly confident when we (he) found 50+ kms of twisty, bumpy road leading in to Moe to responsibly explore the upper limits of the flat-six rev range and the outer limits of Koni-Equipped adhesion.
Now, I am well versed in Alfa Romeos. Old Alfa Romeos. They rev, so that was not a new experience. And they go around corners pretty well, though it should be said that I’m used to Alfa Romeos that are set up for smooth surfaces and get a little antsy if faced with a mid-corner imperfection.
But … (excuse me) …WTF?? How long has this been going on? These German, mid-engined devices stick to corners like chewing gum to a church pew!
Cerebral reset!!
No shuffling sideways across ripples. No bouncing sideways across potholes. No shriek of tortured, struggling rubber. No looking out the passenger side window to see where you’re going. Just composure. Really? Are they ALL like this? Why didn’t someone tell me sooner?
Anyway, we arrived in, one piece, grinning like rednecks at a Trump rally and wandered around the assorted Stuttgart products feeling decidedly chuffed! And it has to be said, included.
The return trip was less exciting, but very informative, nonetheless. The sky had been darkening long before we departed, so it was with a little trepidation that we set off. The only other convertible I have owned amongst “The 47” was a 1959 Sunbeam Alpine (don’t ask – long story). Suffice to say, even when the hardtop was fitted, a light drizzle would result in rivulets trickling down the A pillar, drops squeezing through the side window seals and puddles appearing in the foot wells!
And so it rained. Big drops smacking the windscreen at high speed. And it was cold, unseasonably cold. But hey, who cares? This is a Porsche product. Snug and warm with the heater whirring away and not the slightest hint of any dampness from within. Really? Yup, really. This car continues to tick boxes!
At the moment time is tight and priorities dictate so we’re still not quite ready to pull on the skid lid (possibly not an appropriate term in a soft-top!) We spectated at Sandown and intend to venture on to the track at Broadford in May. And then…and then…who knows? Carrera Cup? (Haha!)
(I doubt if anyone will lose sleep if I miss reporting for a month, but in April I may refrain. In due course, however, I will balefully outline the numbers of times a Porsche sucks the doors off my (probably diesel) rental car on the autostrada south of Rome!! (Pity you can’t fit suit cases is one of those Cayman-baiting Alfa Romeo 4Cs!!)
By Robbo (Ian Roberts)
