ed: I’m not one to name my cars, but would you call your 911 Tweety? Tell us in the comments!



911

Driving a classic car is the equivalent of walking a Labrador puppy in the park. The mere sight of it radiates joy. Whether it be someone wanting to stop and ask questions about the car or just a silent observer smiling and waving, the reception is always overwhelmingly positive. Unless of course the car drops a little oil puddle on the driveway…

Okay enough of the puppy metaphor.

It’s difficult to think of a car that exudes as much charm as a little yellow ‘72 911. Signal yellow to be exact, a truly gorgeous shade that appears more orange in certain lights. This particular car is lovingly nicknamed “Tweety” and is a 911T. In 1972 that meant a 2.4l flat six and a 5-speed manual gearbox.

It makes this 911T very rare

This also means it’s one of the “oelklapper” cars – a name given to a short run of 911s with two external filler caps. One for petrol and one for oil. The need for an external oil filler cap arose because Porsche moved the oil tank forward of the rear axle to improve weight distribution. A laudable objective in the notoriously tail-happy 911. However, refuelling “accidents” and total confusion at the petrol pump meant that Porsche reverted back to a more fool-proof solution from the next model year. It makes this car and model rare.

The 911 is surprisingly easy to drive for a 50-year-old machine. The clutch is on your side – it’s rather forgiving when setting off in traffic. The visibility is terrific. You are basically sitting in a rear-engined goldfish bowl. Even the brakes work. They need more pressure than the heavily assisted modern stuff, but it’s so easy to feel everything through the pedal.


you can feel the front tyres bobbing around on the road surface

That “feeling” is the overwhelming takeaway from the car. Everything is so gloriously mechanical. The throttle response is instant, and a heel-and-toe blip is oh so satisfying once you’ve worked out the pedal placement. Steering the car through corners is a sensation every petrolhead needs to experience. Even at pedestrian speeds you can feel the front tyres bobbing around on the road surface through your fingertips. You can quite literally feel the differences in the tar as the front tyres load up and the tread starts flexing. It almost ruins all new vehicles for you.

Compared to the T, modern cars’ inputs feel like they are wrapped in a thick layer of sponge or foam. The gearbox is perhaps the only aspect of the car that really shows its half century of age. The throw is long and wand-like. You need to concentrate that bit extra when slotting in each ratio. Bar this, you can drive the 911 like a Polo.

911

Of course, the way a classic drives is only part of the story. They bring so much more to the table than a simple mode of transport, and that’s why we love them. You as a car enthusiast will know that certain cars can conjure feelings, memories and emotions that separate these machines from other physical objects. To us, some cars are like living entities, and this 911 embodies those characteristics on a very personal level.

the 911 was my very first ticket into the car community

I’ve been 911 obsessed since pre-school. When I was 6 my dad bought a 997 Carrera S. That car started a lifelong passion for the automotive world.  It was my very first ticket into the car community, and because of that, I owe that car (and my dad of course) a huge amount of thanks.

For the 911 range, this is genesis. After nearly 60 years, this generation is still possibly the most special. Not only has it aged into a piece of rolling artwork, but the history and stories add to the aura of this car. From rallying to Le Mans, the 911 has done it all. Even now, watching videos of these cars battling it out at Goodwood in a near continuous rear-engine aided slide is mesmerising.

When admiring Tweety I can’t help but remember the opening scene of Steve McQueen’s Le Mans. He drives a black 911S for 2 minutes of pure bliss and coolness. Another reminder that driving Tweety isn’t simply driving a car. It’s spending the day with my celebrity hero.

Photography by: Connor Edwards