"Don't burn the clutch," warned the crew chief. "Watch the brakes; they're new and the car stops like crap. Stay out of the boost-whatever you do. Don't make any quick moves on the banking."
I thought, "This is fun?"
"Have fun," he said. The note of warning in his voice closed like a pair of fists around my suddenly dry throat...closing along with the slam of the top-hinged door to my right.
A twist of the on switch and punch of the start button later, the stifling little coffin that passes for a driver's seat became the world's most expensive massage chair. I discovered how certain body parts vibrate alarmingly in a 700-bhp race car; and I felt the exhilaration that comes from every atom in my body dancing to a reciprocating song of pistons (six), turbos (two), camshafts (four), and intake and exhaust valves (24). The basso profundo of the engine's 710Nm (524 lb-ft) of torque rumbled a continuous underscore that caused every sweat gland in my body to shed its contents in a red-tinged rush of chemicals that would be illegal if they weren't cooked up in our own bodies.
Single-filing to the starting grid, I looked out of the domed cockpit and saw myself surrounded by history, realized how fully absorbed with history I was about to become...and stalled the engine. And then found out again how wonderful the 3.0-liter six sounds when it starts, the thumping growl reminding me that it could run over 350 km/h when in Le Mans trim.
The Shell Dunlop 962Cs were the last of their kind to run as Porsche "werke" entries and participated in the World Endurance Championship (WEC) and the German Super Cup Series. The only showing of this car in Shell Dunlop livery was at the 1988 Le Mans 24-hour race. It was driven by the Andretti family and finished in sixth place. The other two werke 962Cs-962-010 and 007-finished second and didn't finish, respectively. And for the first time since 1988, all three were together again.
I began to imagine a Le Mans-type finish as the two other Shell Dunlop-clad 962Cs sat on each side of #008. As we idled near the start/finish line on Daytona's long front straight, the heat and vibration helped the fantasy: Four o'clock sharp, three abreast, the huge crowd shouting, "Vive l'Americain..."
It wasn't la Sarthe, but the big crowd at Rennfest didn't care, and neither did I. They pointed hundreds of cameras and digitized in a fury, enjoying and recording the sight of so many fabled race cars gathered on a fabled racetrack.
Inside the car, I twitched with nervous joy. Imagine a man dying of thirst eyeing a cool stream of water, and you can almost understand how eager I was to experience one of racing's most remarkable cars on one of the most demanding tracks in the world. Except that instead of getting deep draughts of life's most precious elixir, I was to be allowed no more than a paper cone of lukewarm liquid.
Even so, I gloried in every taste. Despite staying out of the boost, braking very early, shifting only when it was absolutely necessary, and going no faster than about 150+ mph, I savored every second of blurred vision and sweaty palms and creeping visions of expensive mayhem. Were an alien to demand to know what all this Porsche noise was about, I'd send it off to get some laps in a 962C. Say no more.
Chassis #008 started life as a Rothmans-sponsored car at Jarama in 1987. It went on to enjoy a lengthy career as a Porsche werke car and then was sold to Vern Schuppan's team, which raced it extensively through the 1989 season. Later, Schuppan's team totally rebuilt and restored it to the 1988 Le Mans Shell Dunlop configuration. It has since been fitted with "sprint" bodywork.
Special thanks go to the owner, Phillip Bennett and the caretaker of the three Shell Dunlop 962C Porsches, Rick Villate, who made it possible for me to enjoy an appropriately wonderful capstone to my career at european car.
Paper TigerThere are two events in 20th-century history I wish I could have witnessed: Charles Lindbergh's take off from Roosevelt Field for his solo flight across the Atlantic; and Picasso's creation and painting of "Guernica."
However, I've been very fortunate to have attended a great many races over the years and witness automotive history being made. This is at the core of why I find vintage- and historic-race events so meaningful. Owning or getting the opportunity to drive one of the cars you witnessed in its prime competitive days is a feeling like no other.
I am no Vic Elford or Jurgen Barth-my driving skills never will compare. But when I'm on a racetrack in one of their historic race cars, I get to experience-albeit only minimally-what it must be like to possess such skills.
The second Rennsport Reunion enabled me to drive my 935, and for the exhibition runs, a chance to pilot two Porsches of huge historic value. On Saturday I drove 962-010. This was one of the werke entries for the 1988 24 Hours of Le Mans that had pole position at la Sarthe. This famous Shell Dunlop-liveried Porsche fought with the might of a Jaguar right up to the end of the race and finished second.
Sunday, I found myself in the office of the werke chassis 962-011, campaigned by Joest Racing. This dual-wing Porsche in the FATURBO graphics was the ultimate development of the 962C, and the last Porsche prototype to win a round of the FIA World Championship. The list of great drivers who sat behind the controls of 962-011 is too long to list, and I certainly am not one of them. But on that Sunday afternoon at Daytona, I think I understood a bit as to how they must have felt.