THE first time I sat in a Porsche was the spring of 1980.

By Andrew Mcéredie

Community Editor andrew@nsnews.com

My best friend David Rothenbury
and I were kicking the tires of a steel
grey 1967 911 in a used car lot at
the foot of London Road in Sarnia,
Oniario.

The late spring sun was a half-
hour from setting over Sarnia Bay,
and the casting light shimmered
from the 9} 1’s metal skin like a life
force.

A moustached salesman eyed us
as we sauntered onto the gravel-
stoned corner lot. As we wove our
way through a slop of Pintos, Vegas
and beat-up MGs, the salesman
sauntered from his small office out
into the evening light, making a
determined effort to look like he too
was just out kicking tires.

Dave and I stooped and steamed
each side window of the Porsche
with 16-year-old excitement,
entranced by the soft red leather
interior and the stark, utilitarian
instrument panel. The salesman
made his way through the slop,
stroking the Pintos and Vegas like
they were sleek Italian sports cars.

“Hello, boys,” he said in a way
that was more like asking than greet-
ing. “Like Porsches, do ya?”

In unison we unstuck our hands
and noses from the glass, and again
in unison said, “How much is this
car?”

“Four thousand dollars,” he said
after sizing up the pair of teenagers
in jean cutoffs, Rush t-shirts and
black canvas Converse hi-cuts.

As Dave and myself did quick
mental math - “Okay, $4,000 divid-
ed by $3.05” (our current wage as
dishwashers at the Keg) - my first
encounter with a Porsche driver’s

seat began.

Claaaaaangge, Clanaaaanaga.

The outside nnger for the lot’s
phone pierced the still, damp air.

“Scuse me, boys, I gotta get
thar.”

The salesman half-walked, haif-
ran through the cars, neck-tic flung
over one shoulder.

I sprang into action.

Grabbing the meaty chrome door
handle, I popped the door and
jumped inte the middle of the dri-
ver’s seat. Thud. I was in.

Dave followed my every move on
the passenger side. Thud. Dave was
in.

We had about five minutes sitting,
in that car as the golden light reflect-
ed off the water and glanced off the
windshield. We were no longer two
bored 1.6-year-olds killing time in a
sleeping southwestern Cntario town;
as we sat in the car silently, we tran-
scended to a twisty German road,
followed by a full out dash along the
Autobahn. Our imaginations ran
wild.

A stern rap on the back wind-
shield snapped us from our high-
speed daydream. The salesman had
returned. Reluctantly, we popped the
doors and reiioved ourselves from
the red leather cockpit.

We nodded at the salesman, and
backed away from the 911, never
taking our cyes from the car until we
stumbled off the curb into the strect.

And so began my passion for
Porsche sports cars.

Sixteen years after that fateful
encounter, I bought a 1971 9LIT,
my first of what will most likely be
many purchases of four-wheeled

ar

be ose
NORTH SHORE

products fom Scuttgart.

Dave is now an engineer with
Texas Instruments in Dallas, and we
spoke by phone just after [ bought
the car. Funny, he could hardly
remember that early evening ren-
dezvous with that grey 91L back in
Sarnia. Dave drives a, ahem, Jeep
Cherokee.

Much has changed since 1980,
for both me and Porsche.

I no longer wear Rush t-shirts.
The fabled German automaker no
longer makes 911s.

Oh, sure they call chem 911s, but
next year’s version of the 911 strays
markedly from the classic 911 design.

On Jan. 3 of this year, in Los
Angeles, Porsche unveiled the
Boxster, it’s first all-new sports car
since 1978, (And considering that
year ushered in the rather forgettable
front-engined 924-928-944 designs,
one could argue the Boyster is the
first true Porsche sports car {read:
rear-engine] since the debut of the
911 at the 1963 Frankfurt Auto
Show).

Wednesday, May 7, 1997 — North Shore News — 21

NEWS photos Brad Ledwidge

THE Porsche Boxster (above) is the beginning of the end for the classic 911 design. A comparison between the a 1971 911 (below,
teft) and the 1997 Boxster — parked under the Lions Gate Bridge — reflects the design changes in store for the 1998 911. For com-
munity editor Andrew McCredie, the changing face of the German automaker’s 911 marks the end of a 17-year love affair.

The Boxster, which traces it’s
bloodlines back to the Porsche 356
prototype of the late 1940s and the
subsequent 550) Spyder, is without
question an engineering and design
marvel. It boasts a mid-cngine setup
and an open, two seat layout (from
which the name Boxster is derived:
melding the engine’s ‘boxer’ design’
with the ‘roadster’ driving experi-
ence).

Priced at around $60,000, the
Boxster represents the entry-level
Porsche from the Stuttgart stable
(Next closest is the 911 Carrera
Coupe ringing in at a wallet-popping
$93,300).

The Boxster will compete with
the new crop of convertible roadsters
put our by other legendary marques
(c.g. Jaguar, Mercedes-Benz, BMW,
Audi, Lotus). And carly indications
are that the Boxster will leave these
weighty contenders in it’s dust.

Despite the fact the Boxster is a
great car, a true Porsche, I can’t help
but mourn the loss of the classic 911
design.

led

Next year, the German automak-
er will unveil the ‘new’ 911, and if
the automotive magazines are to be
believed, the 911] for the next mil-
jennium looks like a Boxster and cur-
rent 911 were both sawed in half
and joined together, with the
Boxster front-end and the 911 rear-
end making up the new design.

Since 1963 — that’s almost 35
years — much, if not everything, has
changed in the world. But not the
basic design of the 911 (What's that
old saw about improving cn perfec-
tion?), The round back end and dis-
tinctive front headlights represent a
look that has held up over three
decades in the often fickle automo-
tive world (Consider the many faces
of the Ford Mustang and Chevrolet
Corvette). Unlike any other sports
car in the world, the 91) said two
things when it roared by — Porsche
and catch me if you can.

Until now.

When the new 911 makes it’s
West Coast appearance next year, it
will still tease drivers with it’s catch-
me-if-you-can pose, but few will be
able to identify it as a Porsche. J
recenuy had a Boxster for a week,
and the inquiring minds in
Dundarave, Ambleside and other
areas where four-wheeled exotics
play loved the look of the car, but
were surprised to hear it was a
Porsche. “I thought it was a
Japanese car,” was a typical com-
ment.

T can’t help but think back to the
sunny evening I sat in that steel grey
911 16 years ago, transported from a
small town existence to the exotic
world of engineering excellence.

Sitting in the Boxster is nice, but...

( News automotive columnist Greg
Wilson will report on the technical
merits of the new Boxster in a May 30
Test Drive column.)