Stuttgart, Germany • The only way to stop the racket is to fully depress the surprisingly stiff clutch. Then, and only then, does all the ruckus from the engine compartment — the rattling clutch release bearing, the gears slapping at one another in rhythm to the engine’s power strokes and God knows what else going on back there — subside. Only when that unholy din is subdued does the GT3 RS sound anything like the smooth, sophisticated Porsche 911 we’ve all come to know and love.
But sitting in neutral, ticking away at its sub-1,000-rpm idle with not even a hint of the orchestral exhaust music that awaits, the GT3 has already announced it is a race car. Although the ruckus is admittedly slightly attenuated from that of a track-only IMSA car or purebred Le Mans racer, there’s no mistaking all those mechanical grumblings for anything other than a highly tuned machine scrubbed of all unnecessary amenities (the carpeting is shaved to save weight, for gosh sakes), sound- deadening material and anything else not specifically dedicated to wringing every last ounce of speed out of its 4.0-litre highly tuned boxer six-cylinder. Squint hard enough and the RS’s impatient idle is so authentic the Porsche factory’s parking lot is really Circuit Paul Ricard’s pit lane, the security guard is your pit crew and that uniform he’s wearing is really a Nomex fire-retardant suit.
So, when you snick the stiff gear lever into first, dump the — again, surprisingly stiff — clutch, the aural assault only intensifies. Below 4,000 rpm, the GT3 sounds pretty much like any other Porsche boxer six, albeit one with a particularly effusive exhaust system. As it rather quickly gathers speed past four grand, however, Porsche’s VarioCam variable valve timing starts working its magic and the exhaust note gets decidedly more urgent. The bang from those big 666-cubic-centimetre combustion chambers seems sharper, the urge to internally combust that much more insistent.
If you never exceed 6,500 rpm, you would still be perfectly satisfied with this version of Porsche’s Otto cycle concerto. But there’s a third act, one that involves the twin conical aftermarket air filter kits feeding the larger 53-millimetre intake tubes. As the revs stretch for that last 2,000 rpm to the RS’s 8,500-rpm redline, those great honking intakes start making a sucking sound so convincing you start worrying for the poor birds flying overhead lest they get caught in the vacuum and are barbecued atop some high-compression Mahle pistons.
Naturally, all this assumes you have time to pay attention to this aural delight. All the internal-combustion music is the direct result of one seriously breathed-on boxer motor, one Porsche claims is churning out 493 horsepower. That’s the most ever from a normally aspirated 911 motor and within spitting distance of the immortal, twin-turbocharged Turbo S. Indeed, Porsche says the GT3 accelerates to 100 kilometres an hour in just 3.9 seconds, a time rendered even more impressive when you consider the RS is only available with a retro-tech six-speed manual gearbox that lacks the launch control trickery of the Turbo’s PDK tranny.
But, in truth, neither the symphonic engine note nor the acceleration is the big surprise (the former because Porsche’s engines always sound sporty; the latter because even I can read press kits and 493 hp driving only 1,360 kilograms of car is always a recipe for ungodly acceleration). Rather, it is the amazing tractability of this motor that continued to astound long after I got used to just how quickly it could make the telephone poles fly past, for this engine is tuned within an inch of its life. Porsche didn’t start with its latest high-tech direct-injection boxer six when it created the new GT3 RS but something called the Mezger engine — a derivative of the block that first powered the racing GT1 way back in the mid-1990s. Along the way, it’s gained a long-stroke crankshaft, titanium connecting rods and all manner of other gizmos to wring every last pound-foot of torque from its mere four litres. For instance, the compression ratio is an extremely high 12.6:1, an amazing figure for an engine not directly injected. In massaging it from its previous 3.8L incarnation, Porsche had no choice — because of the limitations posed by the old block design — but to lengthen the stroke rather than bore the cylinders. That means those poor 102.7-mm pistons are travelling an almost Formula One-like 22.8 metres per second when the GT3 spins all the way to 8,500 rpm.
Engines like these are supposed to be highly strung beasts, temperamental in their comportment and ready to grenade at the slightest provocation. Instead, the GT3 is a model of civility (apart from the aural cacophony of meshing gears and booming exhaust, that is). Although the heady part of its powerband is toward the top end of the rev range, the RS can easily be torqued out of hairpins at 3,000 rpm, third gear stretching all the way from piddling out of the turn to a licence-revoking 200 km/h without touching that gearshift knob. That an engine could produce so much power from so little displacement is not altogether astounding; that it could be so civilized is.
This is not to say that driving a GT3 is easy. Street legal it may be, but a daily driver it is not. Besides that stiff clutch, slightly reluctant gearshift lever and all that noise, there’s a suspension as stiff as Mike Huckabee’s speech delivery (the adjustable suspension offers two settings — immovable and intractable), tight-fitting, non-adjustable Recaro sport seats (conventional seats are available as a no-cost option) and brakes more sensitive than a Greek civil servant asked to give up his pension benefits.
That same sensitivity means the combination of Brembo brakes and ceramic discs provide excellent feedback, ideal for when you’re charging through, say, the Black Forest at an alarming pace. Ditto the steering, which feels as if it is hard-wired directly to the synapses in charge of directional computation. That same exactness can feel a little darty when all you want is to cruise along the highway with a minimum of fuss. Said twitchiness can be attributed to two factors — all the synthetic bushings in the suspension system have been replaced by metal and the car is so darned light (the front fenders are formed of carbon fibre and there’s a lithium ion battery on offer to further reduce weight). Indeed, the steering box is unchanged from that of other 911s. And, as expected, traction from the P245/35ZR 19 front and gargantuan P325/30ZR19 rear Michelin Cup performance radials is positively limpet-like.
Although you could, I suppose, drive a GT3 RS every day, it is very much a race car barely tamed for street legality. (You can even delete the radio and air conditioning for further weight savings.) But 16 lucky customers have already bought Canada’s entire allotment — at a not terribly outrageous price of $211,100 — making my advice moot. Know, then, that when you see a GT3 RS, you have seen Porsche’s most single-minded 911 ever. And then wait for the exhaust howl.
Source: National Post
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