I just finished a trip during which I put 1,600 miles on the 911 in five days. My conclusion is that this sports car is indeed superior all-around transportation. It held two people, their luggage, a small tool box, photo gear and a third friend (5 ft 8 in. plus 5 ft 3 in. equals half the 911's 2+2) comfortably for a day. I bettered whatever my previous personal record between Valencia and Sacramento was by a good margin, at one point tucked in behind a minivan and looking down to see three digits. No, really, I was surprised. I played in the Lost Zone with it (go find it yourself; I'm not talking). The last day was seven hours, including a half-hour lunch stop, and I arrived back at the office ready to do some work with the remains of the day. I can think of no better tool for getting "there" from "here," which for me is what separates a Porsche from any other vehicle burdened with glamour's halo.
And it's a superb toy. Anyone who thinks they need to upgrade this car for more performance is probably not driving it hard enough. We do preach, from time to time, about improving the driver first. There are cars, however, so pathetic in stock form that they have little to teach a driver. Conversely, the 911 will take you as far as you want to go. Unless you would feel like you had a chance on a track against Johannes van Overbeek and others of his level, the Carrera is ready to make you a better driver. The harder I cornered, the more the Porsche impressed, the better it felt. It whispered to me that however far I let the ghosts carry me, it would be there. Just one of hundreds of suicidal squirrels died under the Porsche's tires; the thought of finding a cow instead kept me in check, wishing for a racetrack to explore my limits. It could take me years to find the car's.
The only quality that dulls the Porsche driving experience is inevitable when luxury and performance are combined. With a full gas tank, our car weighs 3,250 lb, 120 more than Porsche's literature admits to and exactly 1,000 lb more than sister magazine Sport Compact Car's long-term MR2 Spyder. The Porsche is of course a far more useful automobile, but the weight is obvious in the two cars' responses. The Porsche is a wonderfully balanced and sharp axe, but an axe nonetheless. Occasionally a more delicate instrument is wanted.
There are few better recipes than a brilliant chassis coupled with the trouble-free reliability of a stock engine. The car that taught me that was underpowered-this is anything but. Compared to a Honda on a displacement basis, the Porsche's peak output of 320 bhp at 6800 rpm is unremarkable, but its 273 lb-ft of torque between 3500 and 4500 rpm underline the fact the Porsche is a grown-up's toy. New for 2002, the engine's stroke has been lengthened to 82.8mm (3.26 in.), giving 3596cc. That's well above the 450 to 500cc per cylinder required for an engine to sound meaty, and it's backed up with 11.3:1 compression. California's 91-octane premium is the minimum it will drink; I'd like to dyno it with that and with 100-octane unleaded.
The stock exhaust can't keep the Porsche from sounding like a street-fightin' man from the moment it starts. It growls, snarls and howls exactly the way it should, living up to its predecessors' racing pedigree. If you care, it makes beautiful girls squeal. And it's fast. It doesn't feel astoundingly so on a straight, wide road, but the next turn on a good road always comes up sooner and a lot faster than I'm used to.