The Dream

The latest generation of the 911 is here, and someone from the latest generation of 911 enthusiasts gets his hands on one

- Aatish Mishra

GROWING UP, I HAD A LOT OF CAR POSTERS — but one poster car. The one I lusted after more than any of the others around it. That got me hot in the pants before I knew what getting hot in the pants was. I can still picture it in my head: an orange 997 GT3 RS, pinned to my bulletin board with matching orange thumb-pins. Sure, there was a silver Lamborghini Murcielago sitting pretty on one side and a Ferrari Enzo on the other, not to mention the SL65 AMG Black Series, a Gallardo and a bunch of other slippery metal. But it was that GT3 RS that had my fancy. I don’t know what drew me to that car. Maybe it was the orange paint, maybe it was the big wing. Maybe it was how important those letters scrawled on the side of the car sounded to my 12-year-old brain — ‘G-T-3-R-S’. I’m still not quite sure, but at a time when dudes my age wouldn’t shut up about scissor doors, I was floored by the bug-eyed 911.

The fascination may have had its genesis in something juvenile, but the more time I spent reading about the 911, the more this fascination evolved into a deep appreciation. It had everything to do with the fact that this is a car that should have been an engineering nightmare — engine in the rear and all that — and yet, it blows every road-tester’s mind with its dynamics. It is constantly pushing the boundaries of what we think is possible with a sportscar, and yet, stays true to its roots. I had never driven one though, and this appreciation I had developed was from things I had seen, read and heard. Not anymore.

Four years into this job, I finally got my hands on a 911. To myself. For an entire day. Bear with me. I know I am a journalist and I need to be giving you an unbiased, unfiltered review of the this car. It’s just… that starry-eyed twelve-year-old with the GT3 RS poster in his bedroom keeps wresting the keyboard away from me.