The Two Best Days of Owning a Porsche
It was a Sunday. I called home to do my weekly check in with my parents. After covering the usual topics of work, sports, and family, my father asked for an update on my car. He already knew it was in the shop and I was wading through a series of issues. But this was the first time I had to say aloud what I had known for a couple of days; that I was getting rid of my Porsche 944. In an effort to offer some silver lining on what was obviously a cloudy period in my life he offered this pearl of wisdom:
They say that the two best days of owning a boat are the day you buy it and the day you sell it. Between, there is a lot of heartbreak, and bills, and problems. I image there are a lot of similarities in buying an old sports car.
My father believes the path to upgrading a car includes finer trim and a larger, quieter cabin. My obsession with all things Porsche never made sense to him. His assessment of this era in my life made me reflect on the experience. What were the two best days of owning a Porsche?
Technically, the last day of my ownership was the next Saturday. I sat at my desk staring blanking of into the distance for what seemed like an eternity before finally signing and faxing the paperwork. The demise of my membership in the Porsche Club of America sprawled out over several weeks. About half way through my autocross session, I had a couple of the more mechanically inclined guys at the track help me understand why my emergency light was on. Noting that one of the mounts for keeping my pulley system in place had broken, it was recommended that I have the car towed to the nearest shop. From, there, the Pandora’s Box of mechanical fails under my hood was unraveled. I tend to think of my last day as a Friday when I was informed of the third major issue that needed to be resolved before returning my baby to the road. I knew it was over.
My first day of ownership was horrifying. Having never driven stick before, I spent the better half of my day lapping a corporate campus with a friend. I think the sounds of my car stalling and grinding through the gears may have made Dr. Porsche roll over in his grave. Feeling just confident enough in my skills to take the show on the road, I made the trek from Redmond to Seattle without my coach. All told, I stalled 4 times en route. There were quite a few prayers for traffic to not stop when I saw too many brake lights on SR-520. I had a hard time sleeping that night knowing I’d have to get up and do it all over again.
One of the more pleasant days came on a winter Saturday. Expecting the usual gloom and light drizzle the Northwest is known for, I had planned to head to work to knock off a few tasks. But as I emerged from my garage, I realized that it was one of those rare periods where we would be blessed with several days of clear skies, moderate temperatures and plenty of sunshine. I pulled over immediately to remove my sunroof and roll the windows down. Now truly comfortable driving stick in traffic and for my day-to-day needs, I was excited to have a chance to test my skills. I zipped across the 520 to the east side. With no plan, goal, or sense of time, I zigzagged through the suburbs, drove spiritedly around the curves of the back roads, and enjoyed every moment of the minor traffic snags. Heading back into the city via I-90, I took the scenic route and did a lap around Mercer Island. There is something nice about driving a small, light, open car in good weather. You feel very in touch with your surroundings. I didn’t close my windows or sunroof for a week!
My third autocross session was by far the most exciting day. I started off with Tim Kornacki Co-piloting to get the feel of the track. My 2nd run was slow, but respectable. But on the third run, something wonderful happened. I hit that Zen moment when the sea of intimidating orange cones became a series of directions; directions that each could be interpreted at least one ahead of when reached. For a brief period, I had the fastest time in class. I actually made the class champion, Wolfe Macleod, earn his number one spot for the day.
So what were the Two Best Days? That’s a tough one. Owning a Porsche had been a life long goal. So achieving it, even in one of the least expensive ways, was huge for me. There were a lot of great times. Most were small moments. Like when my sister called my trifling for buying ‘the cheapest one you could find and joining the club’. Or attending my first Porsche Club event: The Cayman-S launch party at Robert Larson's in Tacoma. The first member I met was Carl Swan, a great ambassador for the club who welcomed me immediately. Then there was my first Autocross lap. With Tim riding shotgun I made it though without hitting a single cone. It’s still funny to think of how cool and encouraging Tim was when I realized how far I was from a time even remotely competitive. Or any time I left work after a tough day and walked to my Porsche. Somehow, it seemed like everything had balanced out by the time I started the car. The best two days were everyday of the experience. I’m saving my money now. Hopefully by early 2008 or 2009 I’ll be back on the track with something a lot more solid. Until then, I’ll enjoy the memories.
posted by Mr. Sharps at 12:32 AM
