Hurray for the
sensitivity of the naturally aspirated engine! Here in Estoril, where
the engine can warm up at ideal temperatures and the air is already
spring-fresh, the six-cylinder boxer breathes particularly deeply. That
vibration at idle, the barely perceptible pendulum movements of the red
needle at 850 rpm, the restrained evil sound that calls for caution and
yet doesn’t reveal what it’s still capable of when revved up. Then, when
only helicopter music pounds, this insane overlapping of frequencies
and interference, the sound dissolves into pain. Into one of a kind that
you want to hold on to until the fuel runs out or the track closes.
Just in time, the Porsche crew was twenty-three seconds faster on the
Nürburgring’s Nordschleife than its predecessor. Easy going.
The combined best components seem made for each other. The result was
a Porsche like Dr. Ferdinand would have appreciated, light and compact,
balanced in center of gravity depth thanks to its mid-engine position,
as reliable as a Porsche, and as close to a racer as is still
roadworthy. “Digital detox,” says Markus Atz. Hardware rules. Of course,
this is under the control of the formidable Porsche PDK, the
transmission control system once approved by Walter Röhrl, which only
throws in the lasso when you thought you’d lost the race. Because yes:
Where you can still straighten your tie when drifting in the
rear-defined 911 pendulum, the GT4 is limbo around the middle. Precision
and feeling are required when braking and accelerating out. Or you can
just throw it into the fire and wait for it to blaze out on the other
side.