Dangerous Mistress

Kerry is having an affair. It’s a strange affair this because his wife knows about it; she even encourages it. He’s dancing with his mistress now. You can see the concentration on his face. You can see what he’s doing with his hands and with his feet. You can see him guiding her around and you can see her fighting him just a little, ready to slip a knife between his ribs at the slightest hesitation or miss-step from him.

I know all of this because I’m right beside him. I’m strapped into a hard-shell Kevlar racing seat that I’m too big for, and my helmet is jammed up against his mistress’s roll cage. I can feel every broken rib that I’ve had over the years as he powers around the corners of Pukekohe. His woman is quite prepared to hurt me without compunction it seems. I can hear her howling as she winds up on the back straight, I notice her trying to tear my liver out and snap my neck as Kerry stands her on her nose coming up to the hairpin.

This woman is dangerous. Even from the passenger seat you can feel the weight of her engine hanging way way out over the back axle. You can feel that engine threatening to come around and point forward at any second. The only reason that it’s not doing that right now is that Kerry is balancing the weight of the car on its back wheels with a careful right foot. You know all of this because even in the passenger seat Kerry’s mistress is talking to you. Even from the passenger seat you can tell what the front wheels are doing, and how much grip is left at the rear before the back snaps around. Then you realise that this Porsche 911 Carrera 3 SC is trying to seduce you.

My mind flashes back to my first meeting with Kerry. I remember seeing the fire in his eyes swell when he talks about his Porsche.

“Ah young Skywalker, never must you turn your back to a woman such as this”

‘I understand master’

“mmmMMMmm perhaps young Skywalker perhaps. Never must you ease your right foot back when under power in a corner… mmMMMmmm, death lurks there for you it does young Skywalker.”

‘Yes master’

“Swiftly will the 911 flick and devour you should you show fear before her.”

‘Yes master’

Treat her like a princess must you Skywalker, but a princess who sings a death song for the unwary that stray too close mmMMMmmm… close yes, too close.”

‘Yes master’

“ A sirens song too shall she sing for the unwary. Escape her embrace you may not should you succumb to the darkness of her charms young Skywalker.”

‘I understand master – I am ready’

“Ready you say! Ready Hah!… See we shall young Skywalker, see we shall...

I’m wrenched back to the present by a complete exhaust system that’s lying smoking on the entry to the hairpin, it wasn’t there 1 minute and 14 seconds ago but it sure is there now. Kerry is fighting with his mistress now, there’s no doubt of that. She’s bucking and twitching as he changes line. Remonstrating him for his carelessness at asking her to alter her plans so late into a braking manoeuvre. He’s caressing the throttle pedal and the steering wheel, asking her to come around, coaxing her, fighting her. There are a few moments of grumbling and scrabbling from her before she gives in and launches toward the next corner, squatting hard on her haunches as she catapults us forward, growling savagely as we pass yet another Toyota which gets swept along in her slipstream like just so much flotsam. You sense her contempt for such lesser cars.

The laps are coming fast even with the extra body on board. This 30 year old 911 is capable of putting in a 1:09.4 here at Puke with just the driver on board. Impressive for any car, but this is basically a bog standard production Porsche. It’s only producing in the region of 200 horses at the flywheel. Oh sure the car’s been lightened, but the engine and transmission is the same one that it came with when new all of those years ago. It’s done a lot of miles – a lot, and the engine has only had one major rebuild. Add into this equation that many of those miles have been on racing rubber at full noise and you can start to be impressed if you like. Hell I am.

Essentially it means that this car can lap Puke at 1:09 based on how well it handles. After all it’s only pumping out the power of a VTEC Honda. Add in the fact that it’s so reliable that it can be raced with the engine only getting attention every other year, and you realise just how good this red she-devil is.

This girl has got all of her weight in her bum, which is hanging out over the transaxle where no self-respecting racecar would ever think of having it, and she still rocks like a Tool concert in Columbia during the cocaine-processing season.

Kerry has always liked Porsches; right from the time when he first saw one adorning a poster on his uncle’s wall. The first Porsche that he ever owned is still with him. It’s a 911 slot car sporting the number 19. The number is significant to both Porsche and to Kerry for exactly the same reason. He'll tell you about it if you ask.

It’s almost worth taking a trip to Pukekohe just to hear him talk about the love of his life and how it all came to pass. To see that fire in his eyes well up when he talks of getting all of the inputs right. When he tells of how the car hasn’t got power steering or traction control and how because of that, it’s a battle between the man and the road with the car feeling like an extension of his body rather than a piece of metal and rubber and glass.

It’s hard to argue with him. In fact I can’t argue with him because even strapped in beside him as the g forces are bending those old rib fractures you can hear her talking to you – even though I don’t have hold of the wheel, I know that it’s true. The 911 Carrera is special; it may have been called many things by many people. It might be a triumph of development over design and this one might seem underpowered in this day and age, but despite all of that it’s a truly great car.

I imagine that I’ll remember this day for the rest of my life. When I do remember, my overpowering recollection of Kerry’s mistress will be that of decelerating for the last corner before the back straight at Pukekohe, and feeling the car squat down bucking and twitching at the edge of adhesion as Kerry pours on the power as we head for that straight. Magic.

And now I wish that like Kerry I’d discovered the 911 when I was a young man.

Original article at http://www.fastmetal.co.nz/turkeydetails.php?id=100175