Tag: porsche

  • Ruf Rash

    (e.d.: I wish I had an uncle like Kurt Nelson’s. The "Yellobird" is just the most famous roadgoing Porsche Turbo of all time. Big article in Sports Car International this month–the only one you should read. Here are Kurt’s fond memories of the RUF experience, rashes included:)

    The day I drove a RUF CTR stays with me like a good rash —
    something a little annoying, but the burning sensation went away with boost, oh
    so lovely boost.

    There is Porsche, and then there are the RUF variants,
    taking what is already a potent automobile and transforming them into
    unbelievable driving machines. Alois Ruf
    Jr., the man behind the engines, takes his place as one of the worlds foremost
    tuners, and I was fortunate enough to have driven one of his iconic cars. I
    actually got to flog it a bit, spin the tires and move the speedo a little, all
    the while remaining very smug

    About 15 years ago my
    uncle brought me into his garage to show me the latest acquisition to his
    stable; a RUF Porsche CTR, or commonly known as the “Yellowbird”. This is a car he picked up new and shipped to
    Germany for Alois Ruf Jr. to do his magic.
    That magic included taking a normally aspirated 3.6l engine and thru
    some “tweaks” turning it into a 475 hp beast with a manual boost control
    allowing for up to 32 lbs of turbo mayhem coupled with quad pot Brembo brakes
    all around; if you are going to propel
    to outrageous speeds, you had better be able to come to a screeching halt if needed.

    I was giddy when the engine turned over: the rumble was like a heartbeat, a low
    thumping which belied the power under the hood. This was long before the rice
    burners and the fart cans sticking out the back, so having a little noise from
    the exhaust actually meant something. It
    was the roar when he kicked the throttle down that made my inner child stand up
    and say holy farcking-schmidt.

    He drove first, allowing me to feel what it’s like to be
    pinned to the seat, in 3 gears, engine roaring, tires smoking, and passing cars like they were in
    reverse. To be fair, mid way into 3rd
    gear and we were over 120 mph, but who was keeping track, not me I was too busy
    trying to wipe the full shit eating grin off my face.

    After some begging, groveling really, and promising that I
    would not fuck up the car, we changed seats and I got to drive this piece of
    automotive wonder. Buckles fastened,
    smile firmly attached to face, and my license in a easily reachable place just
    in case, I let er rip, smoking the tires and shifting as fast as I could into
    second, not just to preserve the motor, but also to stop the wheel spin, and
    really feel the acceleration when those sticky tires hooked up. I knew that the acceleration would be mind
    blowing, but what I really wanted was to get into the twistys, ya know, let it
    all out on some curves, testing to see if those tires were worth their value at
    $300 each. On my first freeway cloverleaf,
    I experienced the drivability issue common to Porsche; over steer. Coming in at 90, I hit the brakes hard, and
    got the car a bit sideways, with the backend coming around more than was
    comfortable, and really it was not a problem, but my passenger suddenly had a
    less than comfortable look on his face. Hey,
    if you don’t push it a bit every now and then, how do you know what the limits
    are or how do find out if those tires perform as predicted. A bonus is being able to steer with the right
    foot, using the throttle to point shoot at will. Pulling a rollercoaster like g force, the car
    just tracked around the cloverleaf and rocketed into the merge lane at 75, just
    out of 2nd gear. That was fun
    so I sought out another set of cloverleaf exchanges, and to varying degrees I
    had the car either under control or out of control, depending on the
    driver or passenger perspective.

    This was all we could muster, due to traffic and the
    presence of the police, who were eying the car, just waiting for me to do
    something stupid. I did bring it up to
    about 140 when we were out of traffic, and judging by how hard is was pulling,
    the claim by RUF of a top end over 200mph seemed plausible.

    He has since sold the RUF, and other cars have come into the fold including a Ferrari 512M
    which is a kick to drive as well , but that Porsche lingers in my memory and always brings a smile
    and a regret that I did not go to law school and become a criminal defense
    attorney.

    http://galeria.forocoches.com/data/4054/16205YB-1024×780.jpg

  • How Clinton Wrecked His Ferrari

    When you have enough money, you call your son Clinton or Caufield or something stilted enough to create an affect. You also (or so the guys at the Porsche dealership tell me) buy your kid a car he or she should never try to pilot. Of course, this results in great websites.

    The pictured vehicle is not a Ferrari. It is the new Audi exotic. Some stupid kid drove and wrecked the thing all the same. I cannot vouch for his name, but I am virtually certain it was not Bill, Barrack, or pray tell something as plain as "John."

    The sugar daddy was likely a big contributor to Bill or Hillary’s campaign and decided to give his first born by his fifth wife the naming rights. The new wife being of firmness other than mind decided to score still more points, perhaps, with the original political lothario.

    It seems recently, however, when the little Clinton screamed for his first car dumb Mommy went out and purchased an Audi instead of a beast from Maranello.

    This could be payback.

    And yet, it may not last for long. Read "Why Rich Kids Don’t Stay Rich."