3 Examples Of Why You Shouldn’t Leave Your Porsche With Me – Part 3

If the previous two articles didn’t prove my point, this one surely will. Just a couple years after the 944 Incident, I found myself smack in the middle of the 3rd and final part of my “Why You Shouldn’t Leave Your Porsche With Me” series. The same buddy (you’d think he’d learn) that owned the 944 was now driving a sexy red 1979 911 SC, with the tail. This car was really fast, and fun to ride in, even though I’m not much of a high speed kind of guy. 911s are really my favorite Porsche because I think so many of the years continue to carry on a timeless look, and this 1979 model looked like a late model car to me. I say the car was fun to ride in because I never really drove it….well, not until my buddy went on vacation, and asked me to drive it from the office to his mechanic — a short 2-3 mile drive.

On many of the times I was shotgun in this car, I experienced the car getting a little sideways, particularly from a standing position at a stop sign or corner. Just the right amount of accelerator would break ’em loose, and we’d slide out a bit, straighten up, and then be flying down the road. It was just one of those things that’d make you smile, or even bring up a bit of giggling like a couple of school girls checking out the cute guy across the hallway. At any rate, the 911 truly seemed made to slip and slide a bit, at least as far as I could tell.

On the day I took the car to the mechanic, I was literally a stone’s throw away from the office parking lot when I almost went to meet my maker. I was still in first gear as I approached a 90 degree corner, and probably up to about 20 miles an hour as I banked into the right hand turn. At that moment, the thought crossed my mind, “I bet I could get this thing a little sideways if I stomp on it a bit.” So, I stomped on it a bit…and all hell broke loose.

Before I knew what was happening, I looked over to my left and saw the whale tail smiling at me. In that moment I was pretty sure that the tail *should* be behind me, not next to me, but the force of the acceleration had toss my body one way, and the car the other. Now I was aimed towards the right hand side of the road, engine revved up high, and about ready to launch myself into a field. I instinctively oversteered towards the other side, and threw my body the exact opposite way it had just been, and now was ready for Launch # 2 towards the opposite field. At this time I began counting all the blessings I had received in my short life, thanking those who were important to me, and trying to figure out how I could write an apology note from the grave for totaling the 911. As I contemplated all this, I went for oversteer # 3.

Now, all this has only taken a couple of seconds to happen, yet I’ve lived a lifetime of memories in those short moments. This however, was the worst oversteer as I was not firmly heading towards an abandoned old chevy wagon left on the side of the road. I somehow narrowly slid right past it and started to steer hard left one more time when somehow I remembered a lesson from my younger days that my father had shared with me. He was the kind of guy who’d hold a broomstick to the block of an engine, and the other end to his ear to diagnose a problem, but I digress. I let go of the wheel momentarily and the car straightened up. Then I grabbed the wheel again, let off the gas, and I’m not sure, but I might have started to cry just a little bit. (Ok, I didn’t really cry, but I sure could have.)

After prying my hands from the wheel, ala John Candy in Planes Trains and Automobiles style, I drove the rest of the way to the mechanic never really crossing the 10 mph mark. A good little layer of perspiration across my forehead, I said a few thank you’s as I putted along. I was thankful that someone else was coming to pick me up after dropping off the car, and that I wouldn’t have to commandeer another motorized death trap on wheels.

I would later get many a laugh from the owner of the car each time I retold the story. That day however, would be the last time I ever piloted a Porsche. For more than a decade, I’ve kept myself to slow moving trucks and SUVs, to keep the world a safer place for everyone.

Rule # 3 about leaving your Porsche with me – with great power comes great responsibility, and I apparently don’t have any.

So if you’re thinking at all about asking me to babysit your pride and joy, let it be known that you’ve been warned….

Comments

  1. good stuff!! Do you remember our “top speed test” on our way to Madras? It was a long and straight road going downhill. It was the only time I remember topping out the SC…and I don’t remember the top speed…but I’m pretty sure we would have gone to jail.

  2. It’s fuzzy, but really anything over 75, if I wasn’t in the drivers seat, I have blocked away somewhere deep in my mind…or I start to cry.

  3. haha…it’s funny how in control you can feel in the drivers seat and how freaked out you get riding somewhere else in the car. If you were scared, I don’t remember.

  4. Andrew says:

    Maybe it’s best just not to leave any car with you. 🙂

  5. Ken – I put on a good smile….

    Andrew – I think you may have the key there.

  6. guess peoplewho knew me ,knew better.

  7. mitchell says:

    a friend of mine used to wash some porsches (among other cars) for his dad’s friends to make money – pretty good gig for a high schooler considering he got to go pick them up and drive them home. but he got mad if anyone of us would drop by because he knew we just wanted to go for a spin, or just sit inside of it. but he was quite responsible and never let anyone (at least me) in or near them.

  8. Phil Schneider says:

    nice car. would be tempting to get the rear end out

  9. Casey W says:

    Thats an awsome story. I let my roommate try to drive my 944 once with me in the passenger seat. I warned him several times it isnt like his honda, we didnt get out of the parking lot before he pulled up the e-break and vowed never to do that again.

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