Air Cooled Odyssey

For the past year and a half I have been on an air cooled odyssey.  I like to think it is over, but I thought it was over four months ago when I bought my 1974 911 Targa.  I was wrong then.  I am probably wrong now.  A few weeks ago I parted company with my 1969 912 Targa and my 1974 Targa.  In their place I acquired a gorgeous 1989 911 Targa.  Why? Why not.  It was just another step on my air cooled odyssey.

I didn’t intend to find myself here when I purchased my original air cooled Porsche, the infamous, and now deceased, 1977 911S Targa, that literally came out of a barn in New York but was supposed to run well.  My goal was simple.  Get a car that needed some work and over time fix it up.  In theory, that was a good idea.  Too bad I did not have it long enough to test the theory.  I did have it long enough for it to catch on fire in my garage after I parked it there, as I have written about before.

I was pretty emotional about losing the 1977 911.  So emotional that I bought the 1969 912 a few months later.  At the time, I convinced myself that I had to replace the 77, and that the 912 was a great car and that I would enjoy driving it.  My judgement with respect to the second part may have been a bit off.  While there is no doubt that the 912 was, and most likely will always be, the rarest car and most likely the most quintessential Porsche I will ever own, I just never felt comfortable driving it.  It was just too damn slow.  Sure it was lighter than a 911.  Sure it sounded good.  Sure it could cruise at freeway speeds.  The problem was that I needed about a mile to increase my speed by about 10 miles per hour when on the freeway.  Every Prius was always whizzing by it.  Hell, every beater Chevy that was running poorly was always whizzing by it.  It didn’t take much.  I consoled myself by focusing on how rare the car I was driving was, but that wasn’t enough.  It just wasn’t fun to drive.  It also needed work.  I was supposed to be fixing it up.  I was going to do some things, and I was going to let the professionals do others.  I did change the coil myself, but that was all I did.  I just kept deferring the other improvements, as my heart just was not in it.  Of course, every time I looked at it I felt guilty

In early March, the 1974 911 came into my life.  I justified it by knowing how much fun it would be to drive and by thinking I had an appreciating, if not appreciated, asset in the 1969 912 sitting in the newly completed garage.  The 1974 911 was a great car.  It ran well.  It needed very little work.  I liked driving it, most of the time.  It had one frustrating issue that took some time to sort out.  It seems that a prior owner had put a pop off valve in the air box backwards.  If the car backfired, the lid of the valve would lift up, as it was supposed to do, but on the way down it would get caught on the air filter, which it was not supposed to do.  The result was that the car would not start.  Initially, I had no idea what was causing the issue and I thought I had to take the air filter off and manipulate the air restrictor plate to get it to start again.  That process worked, but it was really not necessary.  As I learned later all I had to do was lift the air filter a wee bit and the pop off valve lid would fall back into place.  I could also have cut a divot out of the air filter, but I never did that.  Eventually, I learned how to start it without causing it to backfire, but I still had to tell everyone who worked on the car how to get it started in case it wouldn’t.

I drove the 1974 911 a lot.  I drove it to work.  I drove it to PCA events.  I drove it in the canyons.  It was a great car.  The only time I didn’t drive it was when the temperature got over 78 degrees, a frequent event in Southern California, because it was not air conditioned.  I got tired of checking the weather reports everyday to see if I could drive the 911 without schvitzing.  For a brief period I considered adding air conditioning to the car.  Then two mechanics I trust told me very strongly to not do it.  So I made peace, sort of, with the limitation.

I had fun with the 911.  I liked the way it steered.  I liked the way it accelerated, as it was light and was able to quickly change speeds.  I felt like I was driving a Porsche.  I was fortunate to get it into the Lüftgekuhlt 4 air cooled Porsche show in May, an event that will live in my memory for quite some time.  In short, I was pretty sure it was a keeper.

Then my friend Mark came back into the picture.  Yes, the same Mark with whom I had found or purchased my previous cars.  Mark loves to buy, and occasionally sell, cars, and he had just acquired a new one and wanted to sell his 89 Carrera Targa to me.  Mark is a persuasive guy.  He is also usually right.  He pointed out to me that I had been on a journey, getting a learn by doing education about what I wanted, what I liked, and what I needed.  He said he had been down the same road, but that I had had to go down it myself to understand it.  He said my mechanical desires were too grandious, given my skill and interest level.  He said that I needed more creature comforts, like air conditioning, and he said I really liked driving the cars more than collecting them.  He said the 89 was the car I should have bought at the outset of my odyssey had I known then what I know now.  He was right on all counts.

I told him the only way I could think about buying  the 89 Targa was if I sold both the 69 912 and the 74 911.  I had no qualms about selling the 912.  I really didn’t like driving it, and for the most part it just sat in the garage.  I did have some fun times in it with Kim, teaching her to drive a stick shift in it, but those moments were few and far between.  Additionally, the 912 value was going down.  My asset was depreciating, not appreciating, because the 911 market had softened and the 912 market had softened along with it.  I had a little heartburn with taking the loss, but not enough to keep the car.  My more significant concern was really missing the 74 911.

Mark said he would help me sell my cars, and as I am better at buying than I have ever been at selling, I really appreciated that.  He also insisted that I drive the 89 a significant amount before I bought it.  My first experience in it was after a breakfast with my Porsche buddies at the Spitfire.  At breakfast, I talked to several of them about the car, the Porsche market, and knowing when to move on.  Then I drove the 89.  It drove well.  It has a G50 transmission which is no doubt a huge step up from the 915 transmission in the 74 911.  It has a nice sound system, and even has a Bluetooth connection for my phone.  It is just about all stock.  And it is beautiful.  Oh my god it is beautiful.  It also has air conditioning.  Oh my oh my oh my.  That drive was great.  But Mark said it wasn’t enough.  So the next day I drove it about 40 miles over an assortment of city streets, canyon roads and freeways.  It was amazing.  I was hooked.  Beyond that I was smitten.  I wanted the 89, knowing full well I would miss the 74.

So I bought the 89 Targa and sold the 69 912 and the 74 911.  I have had the 89 for about three and a half weeks.  I have put over 400 miles on it.  I feel compelled to drive it all the time.  I enjoy being Kim’s Uber driver when I am in it.  I look for reasons to run errands in it.  Sometimes I think I forget things on purpose so I have a reason to go back out and drive it.  It feels like an extension of me.  Mark was right.  It is the car I should have bought a year and a half ago.  My odyssey is over.  I have two great cars, the 89 Targa and the 15 Cayman GTS.  Both are fantastic.  Both are very different.  Both are keepers.  At least for now.