GT3 Diaries

December 2019: first service

This is the update I’ve been looking forward to doing. In December, the 911 was due for its first (for me) annual service, and I was eager to see how the process is with Porsche, especially the most interesting (to you) part: cost. After having owned two cars from mainstream brands previously, it’s time to see what premium brands like Porsche has to offer, and how much more expensive it is comparatively.

Being in San Francisco, there are plenty of Porsche dealerships in the area to choose from, though there was ever only one possible in my mind: Porsche Fremont. Indeed it’s the same dealership I bought the car from, and the place where the previous owner also took the car to for maintenance, so the people there ought to know my GT3 quite well. Even though it’s a bit of a schlep to drive to Fremont, it’s alright because service is a once-a-year thing. Besides, Fletcher Jones – the automotive group who owns Porsche Fremont – has a sterling reputation.

That fact was evident throughout the whole process.

Scheduling a time to bring the GT3 in could not be easier, needing only a few clicks on the dealer website (I’m not the biggest fan of calling). The scheduler offered exactly the type of service the car needed after inputting the VIN and mileage. I opted for a loaner vehicle right there on the form, too, which is a new thing for me because the mainstream brands I dealt with in the pass aren’t keen to provide courtesy cars unless you’re getting extensive warranty work done. With premium brands you come to expect a loaner car no matter how small the service is.

Of course, you certainly pay for that privilege.

Lucky for me, the financial outlay this year for servicing the 911 is relatively small, as the maintenance schedule called for just an oil change. The following years won’t be so charitable as both the ‘intermediate’ and ‘major’ services are well into the four-figure of sums. I’m wholly prepared for this, obviously: owning the type of car in the league of a 911 GT3, you really ought to have a couple of thousand dollars in reserve every year going towards maintenance. Failing that, I hate to say it: you can’t afford the car. Please don’t be the type of car enthusiast who stretches himself thin for an expensive vehicle but then don’t have money left over for servicing.

An oil change may be simple in a typical car, but not quite for a GT3. Never mind the fact the engine is situated at the rear of the car: further compounding the complexity is the 9A1 motor has dry-sump oiling, with an external reservoir and two drain holes on the underside. The car is particularly finicky about oil levels, too, and it will warn you on the dash endlessly if the level is either too far over or down from optimal. All this is to say I lack the skill and the tools to tackle this job myself, even if I have the space, which I definitely do not.

The privilege of having a clean and modern Porsche dealership to perform the oil change is 450 dollars, which needless to say is a significant jump from the $75 to $100 I was used to. That said, there’s considerable comfort in knowing the work will be done correctly, and that price does include an intensive multi-point inspection, part of the annual checkup procedure to make sure the car is fit for another calendar year of motoring.

In addition to the oil service, I opted for a four-wheel alignment as well, as lately I’ve been getting the sensation the GT3 is not tracking as true as possible. The two past owners of the car took it to the track extensively, so who knows what sort of wild alignment settings they used to extract the maximum pace. Furthermore, Porsche Fremont did not perform an alignment as a part of the sales certification, therefore I have no idea if my GT3 is even within factory specs. It’s long overdue to find out, and it costs me 250 dollars to do so, though from what I gather, it’s roughly the same price at specialty alignment shops.

I made the one-hour drive to Fremont on a Thursday, purposely selecting a noon appointment time so I wouldn’t have to compete with the notorious Bay Area traffic. To my surprise, rather than the typical service counter setup, Porsche Fremont equipped the service advisors with the same table and chairs configuration that the salespeople use. Those waiting were in a separate room entirely. The setup allows customers to sit down and have a detailed conversation with the advisor on the specifics of the car, both during drop-off and pick-up. Coming from past experiences at other dealerships of being sped through the process like cattle, this high attention to each individual customer is very nice indeed.

My appointment was ready and present on the service advisor’s computer with my requests intact (a simple thing some dealerships can’t even manage; true story), and we then started going over the finer aspects of what is to be done to the GT3. It’s immediately apparent my advisor is quite knowledgeable and familiar with the ownership quirks of Porsche sports cars: he knew to look up specifics based on months, rather than mileage. Like most owners of 911 GT cars, I don’t accrue the typical amount of miles, and therefore service is due based on the date, rather than mileage count.

I can remember with the Subaru WRX STI I had to convince the manager myself that the car needed maintenance because of the date, not the odometer display. It’s so refreshing to not have to do this anymore.

The advisor referenced past service history and found the GT3 is due for a drive belt change. It was supposed to be done during the major service performed last December, but for whatever reason, the belt was skipped (should I have made a fuss about this? Probably). To get the car back aligned with the prescribed maintenance schedule, the drive belt had to be replaced. It costs a substantial 600 dollars, about 400 of which is labor because the entire rear bumper structure needed to be removed. The rest is the price of the belt itself, which is the only part of this whole service that I felt was a bit of a rip-off. Fremont Porsche sells the belt – a stamped Porsche Genuine part – for $120; meanwhile, the same exact belt made by the same exact supplier – Continental – can be bought online for around $20.

That my friends is the infamous Porsche tax.

With the belt service added to the alignment and oil change, the preliminary bill quickly swelled to $1,300. Remember when I said you should have a few thousand dollars saved up annually for maintenance? I was completely prepared for this, though I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a bit disappointed in having to pay this much for what is supposed to be the year of a simple oil change.

Nevertheless, that’s the financial commitment I made when I purchase the 911 initially; there’s nothing to cry about. At least the money is going towards excellent service, which I’m definitely receiving from Porsche Fremont. Instead of me needing to caution the advisor to not wash the car during service, he instead asked me on what I’d like to have done from the detailing department (a quick vacuum of the interior). The advisor even inquired if I wanted to use different tire pressures and alignment specs from the factory standard, which is the sort of attention to detail I greatly value – and gladly pay for.

I told him the factory spec is fine, and after few signatures I was on my way out with the keys to a 2018 Porsche Macan. Due to my lack of proximity to the dealership and my peculiar work schedule, I asked if it would be okay for me pick up the GT3 – barring unforeseen setbacks – two days later on Saturday. To my relief, that arrangement was fine, and the advisor said it’s a rather common request: they know and try to accommodate owners’ busy schedules as much as possible.

Quick sidebar review on the base Porsche Macan: competent, exploitable chassis (for an SUV) with a characterless engine, though it’s got enough punch for quick passing maneuvers on freeways. It feels like a solid, well-built machine, a good choice if I were in the market for this type of vehicle.

Four hours after I left the dealership, the service advisor texts me with bad news: during the inspection, the tech found the rear tires were worn down to the cords on the inside edge. Needless to say, immediate replacement was practically required, especially considering we are right in the middle of the rainy season. Honestly, I thought the tires had more life in them yet (the fronts are fine), but I guess it’s not mileage that killed those Cup 2 tires. Judging from how it’s the inside that’s worn down, it must be caused by a faulty camber alignment.

Somewhat fortuitous, then, that I had requested an alignment service. What’s definitely fortuitous is the price for a new pair of 305-section Michelin Pilot Sport Cup 2 tires that I now have to fork over: $1,200 installed. Granted, this isn’t a matter of Porsche Fremont overcharging: those Michelin tires really do cost that much. The Michelin tax, if you will.

I’d expected to get new tires sometime next year, though it never entered my mind I’d need replacements right now. After the initial sticker shock wore off, I thought let’s take the opportunity to replace all four tires with a set Michelin Pilot Sport 4S tires, a far less extreme summer tire compared to the Cup 2s, with better wet traction and longer life. It’s a tire that I’ve been wanting to switch over to anyways, and this seemed the perfect timing to do so. Sadly, my advisor replied to that with more bad news: the dealership is forbidden to put on tires that isn’t prescribed by Porsche from the factory. For the GT3, there’s but two options: the aforementioned Cup 2s, and a set of Dunlop tires that’s even more aggressive and fickle. It doesn’t matter the Pilot Sport 4S tires comes in ‘N0’ versions that’s approved for use in Porsche cars: Porsche Fremont’s hands are tied.

Resigned, I elected to replace the rears with new Cup 2 tires. Looks like I’ll be replacing tires in pairs for the foreseeable future.

The bad news parade didn’t end there, however: post inspection, the tech recommended replacing the front rotors because there’s hair-line cracks on a few of the cross-drilled holes. Porsche officially dictates that if any crack is longer than 7mm, new rotors are required. With a shallow understanding of how enormously expensive brake discs are for the GT3 – and any brake-related service for that matter, I quickly declined the replacement, and went online to research further.

It turns out, cracking at the holes is innate to cross-drilled rotors, and something unavoidable if your car is outfitted with that type of discs. Most of the guys who track their GT3s heavily have replaced the stock units with slotted discs to avoid the problem reoccurring. They do advise that a few cracks here and there is not detrimental, and it’s absolutely fine for continued track use. For a person like me who doesn’t take to the track at all, there should be nothing to worry about. It’s when the cracks connect two drilled holes, or extend out to an edge, then a replacement rotor necessary.

Good thing I declined the recommendation and took the time to check, because a set of front GT3 rotors from Porsche is around $1,800, and surely at least few hundred dollars more on top for installation. Staring at a combined $2,600 service bill already, I was relieved that it’s not something I have to deal with right now. Further down the road I will emulate the track guys and switch to slotted discs made by AP Racing. I might even do the job myself, which seems easy enough to do if this video is to reference by.

I do appreciate how thorough and comprehensive the Porsche techs are with the car during service, and in that regard, you truly do get what you pay for. More than the courtesy vehicle and the fancy coffee machine in the waiting room (free cans of La Croix, too), it’s making sure the GT3 is mechanically sound and prepped for another year on the road that’s worth the cost of servicing at a dealership. For such a high-strung sports car, it’s in the best interest to not half-ass or cheap out on maintenance.

This experience reminds me of what I saw back in July during my travel to Japan, particularly when we visited the NISMO Omori Factory in Yokohama. Staring into the many service bays and seeing how utterly meticulous the mechanics are with the cars, it was the level of service I wanted for the 911 back here in the States. From what I’ve seen thus far at Fremont Porsche, I think I’ve found a convincing facsimile of the NISMO factory. Expensive as it may be to service the GT3 at a proper dealership, I have no regrets in paying for the competence and the task well done.

Besides, I don’t think independent Porsche shops are that much cheaper when it comes to the class of cars like a 911 GT3. The complex oil change service isn’t suddenly going to cost in the $100s with those shops.

Right on schedule, I returned the loaner Macan and picked up the 911 on a late Saturday morning. The service advisor sat down to go over the work details one last time, and I paid the final $2,600 invoice – no additional surprises, thankfully, after the worn tire and tiny crack on the rotor. That’s the price to keep me and the car safely on the road for 2020, and when I amortized it out like that, that number doesn’t seem quite that excessive. That said, I need to start replenishing the coffers for the next service in a year’s time. Who knows what costly items the appreciatively obsessive Porsche tech will find then?

The GT3 will be in semi hibernation next month, as the cold weather means the Cup 2 tires are effectively non-functional. I will be gone for travel during the first half of January, so that’s just as well. There will be periodic drives to get the internals warmed up, but that’s probably it. Late January marks the full one year anniversary of owning the 911, so next month’s update will largely center around that perspective. Until next time.

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Date acquired: January 2019
Total mileage: 29,024
Mileage this month: 343
Costs this month: $3,021.65
MPG this month: 17.35 mpg

November 2019: engine enjoyment

Let’s talk every Porsche-head’s favorite subject: car values.

It was a topic near and dear to my heart during my search for an appropriate used GT3 to buy. Back in January, the market was quite robust for 911 GT cars, with the 2018 gen-two cars still selling for MSRP and above, while the gen-one cars that I was searching for were trading for only 15% off of the original sticker for decently low-mileage samples. Porsche sports car are notoriously keen to keep value, and that little amount of depreciation for a nearly four-year old car is a tremendous hold. Indeed, that is ultimately the kind of price I paid for my Sapphire Blue Metallic 2015 GT3, with a “savings” of 15% off MSRP.

These days, I don’t care how much the GT3 is worth: I bought the car to drive and enjoy, and how much it’ll fetch me some ways down the road when I sell it – which I have no plans to – is of zero concern to me. Not to say I wouldn’t be at least slightly disconcerted if the trade value of these 991-era GT cars suddenly drops off a cliff, but that would still only be an exercise in the hypothetical. A vehicle loses money in actuality on the day you sell; much like how stocks only truly appreciate in value it on the day you sell it for cash.

Otherwise it’s just paper games, though it seems many owners out there are intent to play it. During my research for the GT3, there were many threads on the Porsche forums discussing values of these cars, like what are the best specifications to buy, and how to treat the car afterwards in order to minimize the value loss. This phenomenon is difficult for me to understand, because why on earth would I buy a car whilst keeping in mind what the next owner would prefer? Isn’t the whole point to select what I want? So what if not picking a car with the Sport Chrono Package (I detest that tacked-on clock on the center dash) makes it that bit less desirable to potential buyers later on? I couldn’t care less.

Perhaps it’s innate to the price segment of Porsche GT cars – a shade above six-figures – that’s got people stressing over retaining resale value. At this price category, car enthusiasts earning a middle-class income can afford these cars with a bit of savings streak (like yours truly), and unlike the ultra-rich who can drop money on multi six-figure cars with no issues, these particular enthusiasts can’t afford to have their money disappear into thin air and not feel some disturbance. High-dollar sports cars may be toys, but for the middle-income owner, those cars also have to act as something of a solid place to park money, funds to be extracted out of in case of emergency or a change of plans (like buying a house).

These people can’t stand to lose a chunk of money on a car later on, and therefore would never entertain buying cars with steep depreciation potential. It explains why Porsche 911s – especially the GT models – are so popular, because their value-retention is near legendary. It’s somewhat ironic, then: why the numerous discussion threads of 911 values if these cars are already notorious for having the least amounts of depreciation?

It also explains why we would never buy a big-body German sedan brand new, because we understand that four years later that BMW 7-Series will be worth half its original six-figure sticker price. Youtuber Doug DeMuro bought his used E63 wagon after it has already suffered through steepest part of the depreciation curve; he also acquired his dream car the Ford GT (early 2000s version) partly because he knows it will lose little of its value, if at all. Car enthusiasts are a savvy bunch, especially so when dealing with cars in the six-figure sums. I think the tendency for us to switch out of cars often is also a big reason why depreciation is such a calculative factor in the purchasing decision: ideally you’d want a decent trade-in value in return so the new acquisition wouldn’t be as much of a burden financially (though it’s sale tax that really hurts in California).

As I’ve said, I don’t care how much my GT3 is currently worth: it gets driven often and utilize for its purpose. There’s no self-imposed mileage limit, nor is there a climate-controlled garage for me to keep it in. The plan is to keep the car practically forever, so hopefully until the end, what the GT3 will fetch in trade won’t matter at all.

While I am decidedly insensitive to depreciation, for academic purposes I’ve been keeping a regular eye on the trade values of 991-era GT cars. Bring a Trailer’s daily newsletter on cars closing auction on its platform makes it super easy to keep track of prices, and lately it’s not looking good for these specialized 911s. Since January this year when I bought the GT3, the 991 GT cars – gen-one or gen-two - have lost from around $15,000 to $20,000 in depreciation; even perfect low-mileage samples and the vaunted GT2 RS aren’t immune to the market softening. To go from trading above MSRP to now almost $20,000 below in a matter of 10 months is quite a thing to see.

Porsche had a lot to do with it: due to demand – and wanting to combat dealers from charging exorbitant markups - they increased production for the gen-two 991 GT cars massively. From listening to Matt Farah’s podcast, word on the street is that in 2018, 40-percent of all 911s made had a GT badge. This dramatic increase in supply did the job to depress prices, with a glut of .2 GT cars available to buyers. It forced the values of used 991 GT cars finally followed a normal depreciation, though comparatively it still got one of the shallowest curves, and a floor that’s likely higher than anything lacking a Ferrari badge.

Yes, it means my gen-one 991 GT3 have lost nearly $20,000 in depreciation since I’ve bought it at the beginning of the year. That’s the risk I took and accepted when I decided to spend over six-figures on a singular car. You only live once, as the kids say these days.

However, the price of the car does sort of effect how you treat it, at least initially. Very cognizant of the fact that I’m driving around in a car that’s worth a healthy down payment on a home, the first few months of ownership came with great apprehension. I got afraid at every extraneous noise and knock, as if it’s a signal the car will soon fall apart entirely. I didn’t dare to push the car, fearing a lack of mechanical sympathy will spell doom for such a highly-strung machine.

I was super precious with the GT3, and that was a mistake. Belie its six-figure cost, the GT3 remains just a car like any other on the road, one that is to be used and driven. If it breaks, I’ll simply get it fixed.

It’s important to remember that the 911 is made by Porsche, a company renowned for making some of the best most solidly built cars, with great reliability. Therefore, I needn’t treat the GT3 with kid gloves: it’s designed for heavy track use, so my weekend jaunts on the mountain passes is barely touching its prescribed operating window. Some errant debris on the road isn’t going to turn the GT3 into a worthless machine, and the usual potholes on public roads won’t do a thing to the forged wheels that are engineered to be bashed into track curbing continuously.

I mustn’t be precious with it. There’s no need.

Indeed, the 911 has German built quality in spades. Even with frequent track use by the previous owners, there’s not a single squeak or rattle to be heard inside the car, aside from the jingle of my house keys hanging off the ignition during fast cornering. The fit and finish of panels is expectedly excellent. It’s a marked contrast compared to my previous cars: the WRX STI was full of interior rattles infamous to that era of Subaru, while the MX-5 Miata had an annoying clatter from the convertible top when the temperature got low (which for San Francisco means always). It is true what people say: the quality of German cars will spoil you, and you can’t ever go back to brands from other countries.

Of course, the reliability of German cars is a whole separate story. Porsche may have the best track record amongst the German marques, but there’s a reason I sought a GT3 with a certified preowned warranty: you hedge your bets whenever you can.

The seasonal rain has managed to hold off for much of November, and as a result there was plenty of cold and dry weather, utterly perfect conditions for the 9A1 motor in the GT3, though getting heat into the tires was a challenge. The sounds emanating from the engine behind my ears are just that extra bit crispier this time of the year, with a distinct clarity that’s absent when the temperatures are hot. The growl as it sings to a 9,000 RPM crescendo is the GT3’s party piece, and it’s best experienced during the autumnal chill.

Hearing the wailing engine note reverberate and bounce off the mountain cliffs as I blast along the road is where the magic and sublime of the car lie.

I only wish the wind noise isn’t so great when the windows are down. At speeds above 50 miles an hour, the buffeting is loud enough to rival the engine, which sort of defeats the purpose of putting the down the windows. A company called AWE Tuning makes a simple wind deflector to be installed on the triangular piece right above the side mirrors that claims to eliminate the wind buffeting, and I’m seriously considering buying it. The GT3’s sweet atmospheric motor deserves to be heard with the windows rolled down.

Up next in December is very few miles if the seasonal rain is due to appear normally; as they get worn down, the Cup 2 tires becomes ever more useless in cold and wet conditions, so I won’t be hitting the mountains roads when it rains. The big item for the month will be taking the GT3 in for its annual service. I’m going to ask the dealer to take a look at a slightly misaligned bumper piece right beneath the driver side DRL strip, an issue that’s been there since I bought the car. Armed with a proper CPO warranty, I’m hoping it won’t cost me a dime for what looks like an easy fix once the front bumper is taken off. We shall see.

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Date acquired: January 2019
Total mileage: 28,681
Mileage this month: 510
Costs this month: $380.72
MPG this month: 17.11 mpg

October 2019: boo-urns

In recent months, I constantly see a Honda Civic Type R parked on my block. They guy who drives it – not that I’ve ever seen the person driving it, but let’s be honest it’s 100% a dude who owns the car – must be in the area for work, because that Type R is nowhere to be seen come the night hours. What a privilege to have arguably the finest hot-hatch on sale as your daily-driver; it almost makes me miss driving my ND MX-5 Miata to and from work. These days – since I’ve sold the Mazda – I commute by bus.

Can I daily-drive the GT3? Tricky logistics aside (think parking), I haven’t got the money for those hefty fuel-bills.

Back to that Type R. In seeing that car almost every day, I have a front-row seat to its progression in modification. On the exterior alone – the only portion I can see, really - the list of changes is quite intensive. Seemingly not satisfied with the factory color options, the owner wrapped the entire car in a searing shade of yellow, though he oddly left uncovered the aftermarket carbon-fiber fenders, which is a rather ugly combination if you ask me. There’s the prerequisite change of wheels, and finally, a slew of aerodynamic appendages attached to bottom portion on all four sides.

I think I’ve reached that age where instead of admiring the creativity of vehicle personalization, I merely shake my head at dumping money towards making a car look and perform differently (note that I’m deliberately not using the word ‘better’.) In this particular example, the Civic Type R is one of the fastest front-wheel drive production cars on the planet, and it costs nearly $40,000. Where’s the need to modify it? It’s interesting: the sheer insatiability of an enthusiast’s desire to improve a car and stand-out amongst a crowd, even when the car in question is already tops of its kind, and relatively rare within the sea of common sports-utility vehicles.

Honestly, I’m merely projecting my jealously here: I’d dearly love to modify my GT3, to have it personify a bit of my owl style. I’m in a similar scenario to the person with the Civic Type R: the GT3 is tops within the 911 range (please ignore the RS models that I can’t imagine to afford), the best sporting expression of the Porsche sports car; so why would I possibly think to add to or modify it? I am human, after all, and it’s an innate characteristic that our species never achieve lasting satisfaction with the status quo. It largely explains why I’m on my third car in the span of six years, a bit of a waste from a personal finance point-of-view.

So I understand the rationalizations of the guy performing modifications to his Civic Type R, and I only wish I have the financial capabilities to do the same to the GT3. Indeed, money is the key reason that I am not putting on new wheels or changing out the exhaust on the 911: the car itself costed a lot of money, and aftermarkets parts for a Porsche is enormously expensive. The reality is, my hands are effectively tied.

I do take my own advice seriously, though. My philosophy towards car modification is if I want to go faster, I’d simply buy a faster car, instead of dumping money needlessly towards making whatever vehicle I currently own go quicker. As much fun as it is to make a car perform better than what’s prescribed from the factory, there’s a definite barrier of diminishing returns, in terms of possibility (an economy sedan can only go so quick) and reliability. In the past I could’ve tuned my WRX STI to have around 500 horsepower, but the consequent increase in maintenance and potential for headaches makes it not worth the exercise.

Instead, I bought a car - the 911 - with (nearly) 500 horsepower, though the cost was exponentially bigger than anything that could’ve been done to the Subaru.

Perhaps that’s the antidote to wasting additional money on modifications: blow your entire budget on the car itself! The GT3 costs the equivalent of a down-payment on a house (elsewhere far away from San Francisco, obviously), and even with me fronting half the price, the monthly payments are still relatively substantial when compared to the average motor vehicle. Therefore, I simply don’t have the cash to buy another set of wheels, or wrap the car a different color. Besides, running expenses for the GT3 is high enough as-is, so whatever spare change I can muster goes towards that, and not KW suspension parts - which would be irresponsible.

A set of KW Clubsports for the 911 GT3 is well over $6,000 dollars; the infamous Porsche-tax on aftermarket parts serves as a secondary hurdle towards me modifying the GT3. Other examples: a proper set of replacement wheels – thanks to the unique and frustrating centerlock hubs – costs nearly 10 thousand; a simple titanium exhaust is five thousand. Want better brakes? That’ll be over $11,000 dollars for all four corners. None of it is cheap (no Chinese knockoffs here.)

I grew up on a class of cars – Japanese sports compact - where a set of wheels can be bought for around
a thousand, and suspension kits aren’t much dearer than that. Now with the GT3, it appears I’ve graduated to a stratosphere where the costs for aftermarket parts can cumulatively reach a level comparable to a brand-new car. The absurdity rings loud and clear when you put it in such a perspective, and for my monetary position, I’d rather buy the whole other car.

Good thing I don’t have money for any of that anyways!

And that is why I will never alter or modify the GT3. Not that I need to – it’s a superbly brilliant car - but I do miss the type of fun the owner of that Civic Type R gets to enjoy: the wrenching and tinkering. Modifications do keep things fresh and exciting as you accumulate parts month by month, keeping to the cadence of your paychecks (the struggle, as they say, is real.) Then again, it’s equally exciting when taking the GT3’s tach-needle towards the number 9 on the rev-counter; that effervescence, is perpetual.

As predicted, mileage in October is depressed compared to the Spring and Summer months. I did the bare minimum each weekend to get the car warm and recharge the battery (no such luxury as a battery-tender at the parking structure.) I didn’t once fill up for gas this month, owing to the optional 23.8-gallon extended range fuel-tank that I had fully brimmed at the end of September. It allows the GT3 to go quite a ways longer on one tank than the less than 300 I was used to in my previous cars, even with the piss-poor gas mileage. I’ve yet to test this out, but there’s no doubt I can get down to Los Angeles from San Francisco on one fill, with plenty to spare.

That is, not taking the scenic coastal route.

Surely one can make an argument against the extended range tank on the rationale of additional weight at the expense of speed and handling. For me, the extra cushion provided by the option and the decrease in stress is worth the tradeoff. At the places I tend to drive on, it can be troublesome to locate a gas station in a hurry. I hardly frequent racetracks, and don’t possess enough driving skill to explain the difference felt in the extra weight of 7.8 gallons of fuel. Unless you’re an intense track-rat, I highly recommend potential buyers of future GT3s to tick the box for extended-range fuel tank.

The latter part of December is when an oil-change service is due, so a week ago I made an appointment with Porsche Fremont. In additional to the fluid change, I also opted for an alignment, as lately I’ve been noticing the steering wheel is canted to the left a few degrees. It could very well be just me being overly sensitive about the wheel acquiescing to road-crown, but nevertheless I’d like to have some concrete alignment numbers to confirm it either way.

It’ll be my first time getting scheduled maintenance done at a Porsche dealer, so let’s see exactly how the reputably good service is, and how eye-wateringly expensive simple maintenance can cost. For sure there’s a myriad of Porsche specialists in my area that can do the job cheaper (relatively, anyways), but I’m keeping care to maintain the validity of the certified preowned warranty for the next two years. Getting service done at an official dealership should limit the amount of friction to a minimum if problems arise with the GT3. I shall wait until the warranty expires to seek out specialists to perform the car’s annual service.

Besides, because I bought the GT3 there, Porsche Fremont offers 10% of labor. I look at that as saving on sales tax, and as with anything Porsche-related, every bit of savings help.

In November I think there’ll be increased miles on the car than October, thanks to the two holidays of Veterans Day and Thanksgiving - perfect opportunity to go driving. Gas prices have also gone down a bit, though here in California we are unfortunately in the season of winter blend gas. Let’s see how the high-strung 9A1 engine handles the slightly less energy-dense petrol.

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Date acquired: January 2019
Total mileage: 28,171
Mileage this month: 180
Costs this month: $234.55
MPG this month: 17.2 mpg

September 2019: it's fitting like a glove

There’s no big overarching theme to talk about this month; just some updates on how I feel about the car and the car itself.

After nearly nine months of ownership, I’m finally getting the sense the GT3 is shrinking around me in the driver seat. It’s a sought-after sensation that denotes a bonding with a car, that the driver is enabled to exploit the limits daringly, and to carry the confidence that any surprises can be handled with ease. A car’s fun-to-drive factor receives a boost as well, and within the past month, I’ve really gotten a liking to how awesome the GT3 is to drive, and precisely why the motoring press raves about it.

Obviously, you’d expect a 911 from the Porsche GT department to be nothing less than fantastic, though I guess for a wholly unskilled driver like myself, it takes a bit of time to personally validate the claims made by that lofty reputation. Because the GT3 is not my daily driver but rather a weekend machine for the mountain roads, the lack of continuity and relative seat-time hampered how quickly I got acquainted it. My previous cars took less than a month each to achieve the same “wrapped around me” feel because those cars were used for commuting as well.

Honestly, there’s a factor of fear. The 911’s peculiar drivetrain layout – with the engine sat behind the rear-axle – is ever present on my mind; I’ve read too many stories of 911 owners experiencing the sudden unwelcome advance of the car’s rear-end, leading to many spins and accidents. Even with all the traction and stability mechanisms left on, I’m always keenly aware of the GT3’s potent potential to swap ends, at best making me look like an utter idiot, or worst, pirouette right onto another car. The 911 is definitely way more car than what I’m ever used to, so I approached my GT3 with reverence and huge trepidation; a book to be read very slowly.

Something incredibly simple also slowed down the time to acclimatization: I was in the wrong seating position. I understand the superb irony it was only some months back I wrote on these updates how awesome the GT3’s driving position is, and how important it is for a sports car provide the proper ergonomics. Through no fault of the car, I recently realized I was sat too far away from the steering wheel: I had erroneously acquiesced too much for thigh support, hoping to avoid the dreaded butt pain on long stints. Because my particular GT3 has the base seats with only the three basic adjustments (front-back, up-down, and incline), that meant moving the seat rearwards until my thighs hit the front cushion.

I can’t believe I drove around like that for over half the year. It was on a drive earlier in the month that for whatever reason I felt frustrated I wasn’t getting the necessary sensation in return from the GT3, and that something was missing. Knowing to check the fundamentals first, I stopped the car to readjust the seating position, and it turns out I was slightly too far back from the ideal setup in relationship to the steering wheel. Therefore, sacrificing some thigh support had to be done.

The effect was immediate, as if a switch has been flicked on. The GT3 came alive in my hands, and for the first time I can directly feel through my body the twist and motions of the car as I maneuvered through corners. Because I can fully feel exactly what’s going on, I now have the confidence to muscle the car into a turn, and actually use the brakes to manipulate the chassis. The GT3 truly dances, the more winding the road, the more it rewards the senses. The change of direction is immense, and the car settles down from any sudden imperfections or inputs with rapid ease. It reaffirms how truly capable the GT3 is, and that me the driver is the lone weak link on the chain.

Few months back I had written how I wish the GT3’s steering rack was just a tad quicker, and that it’s not as darty as the one I was used to on the Mazda MX-5. After the seating adjustment, I’ve come to realize the slightly slow ratio on the 911 is engineering as such for a purpose: it’s perfectly matched to the brilliant chassis. On a twisty mountain road when everything is in harmony, the steering is precise and turns exactly where I want the car to go; a faster rack would only upset that sweet balance. Besides, should a corner require more angle than predicted, mid-corner adjustments don’t disturb the 911 into understeer.

I think the genesis of my complaint about the slightly slow steering ratio is because I was still framed from the perspective of my old Miata; even with the rear-axle steering system shortening the turning radius considerably, I guess a 911 simply can’t defeat the base physics of a diminutive MX-5.

And rear-axle steering isn’t only for making U-turns in less space than an Audi A3: on a winding road, the system is effectively magic. For me, rear-axle steering has gone from a necessary gimmick (one cannot spec a GT3 without it) to a total revelation in the ability to nip the GT3 through tight turns. You can’t really feel in on corner-entry during the braking phase; rear-axle steering comes into the play on throttle, and you can sense the backend come into play in almost uncanny fashion. It doesn’t rotate the car per se; rather it’s as if the rear-end speed up faster than the front for a split-second, giving a sudden burst of energy to punch the car out on corner exit. I can see why almost all the expensive new sports cars on the market has a rear-wheel steer feature.

The GT3 is, again, needless to say, a fantastic car; any perceived shortcomings are probably on the fault of me not yet calibrated to its capabilities.

After achieving clear communication with the chassis and melting those sensations into muscle memory, the GT3’s party piece - the atmospheric flat-six that revs to 9,000 RPM - reveals itself that much more. The engine lives most happily above 5,000 RPM – just as most cars are beginning to run out of breath - and it absolutely sings to 9,000. I used to be afraid of staying in high revs in my cars for some inexplicable reason, but now, I gladly keep the 911 in low gears and let the tach needle live and dance within the upper reaches of the circle. The high-pitched wail on that last 1,000 RPM towards 9K is what makes the high cost of entry for the GT3 well worth it.

Some days I’d get into normal cars and wonder where the rest of my 3,000 revs has gone.

Even with the newfound synergy with the car, I’m remain far too much of a wimp to test the GT3’s adhesion limits, especially so after an incident coming out of a car wash. A cold evening as per usual here in San Francisco, I’d forgotten how little grip the Michelin Pilot Sport Cup 2 tires have in low temperature and soaking wet from the car wash dousing. On a normal right-hander onto a thoroughfare, I accidentally pushed too much throttle, and the rear-end quickly spun around, easily defeating the hapless traction control. I was lucky to not hit anything, thanks to the wide road with no other cars nearby; the only bruise was to the proverbial ego, and my overall comfort level with the GT3.

Ever since then, I’ve been extra careful with the gas pedal, too scared of a repeat, particularly on narrow mountain roads where the cost of a mistake is exponentially greater. To remedy this apprehensiveness, I think a trip down to the Porsche Experience Center in Los Angeles is in order: they offer driving courses, one of which involves the ins and outs of car-controlling a 911 GT3. The problem of course is money, as it costs upwards of a thousand, and the fact that I live 300 miles away means there’s ancillary costs as well.

Perhaps a local autocross event would be better and far less costly. Stay tuned on that.

The Pilot Sport Cup 2 tires may be super tricky when cold and downright worthless for grip in the rain, but when those tires work, the amount of grip is incredibly addictive. Every time I’ve determined to switch to Pilot Sport 4S tires on the next tire service, I’d change my mind after driving the GT3 on a hot day, where the Cup 2 tires can get to their operating sweet-spot. It allows the car to do things that’s difficult for the mind to comprehend, and I worry that by stepping down a grade to the 4S tires, I’d lose this immense, unstoppable feeling.

There’s still quite a few thousand miles of life left on the Cup 2 tires – god willing any undue punctures – so decision time can wait. It’s too bad laws of physics can’t allow a tire with Cup 2 grip combined with 4S wet traction; even Formula One cars have dedicated rain tires, after all.

A fun and quirky part of 911 ownership is giving the wave or thumbs up to fellow Porsche owners I encounter during a drive, though we tend to restrict it to the 911, Cayman, and Boxster (any vintage). There’s way too many Macans and Cayennes on the road, and the typical owners of those sports-utility vehicles aren’t what we would call enthusiasts - it’s Porsche sports cars only. Nevertheless, it’s a gracious feeling to give recognition to other Porsche drivers, and the joy of machine we share together.

It seems I’ve always owned cars with such ownership camaraderie: I’ve performed the friendly thumbs up to other drivers on the road back when I owned the Subaru WRX STI and the Mazda Miata. Both of those cars have a cultist and enthusiastic following much like the 911, so it’s only natural the habit continued on to this day. I wouldn’t want it any other way, because the day I don’t get to do this is the probably the day I’m no longer driving a fun and interesting car.

I promised that I would break 500 miles this month, and as you can see in the stats below, I came close enough that I’m willing to smugly claim a victory. As we head into the colder months on the calendar, the mileage per month will for sure drop: as mentioned earlier, the Cup 2 tires really don’t like inclement weather. Most weeks I’ll probably take the car out long enough to get the mechanicals up to temperature and the battery charged up.

The odometer is close to ticking pass 28,000 total miles as well, which means I’m about 2,000 miles away from the GT3 losing its entire value! Half joking aside, it’s widely accepted in this category of sports cars that once 30,000 miles is reached, it denotes a sort of fiscal cliff, whereby a car is seen as thoroughly used, no matter the actual present condition. For example, the price of an extended warranty goes up dramatically when a car is over 30,000 miles, compared to even just 29,000. That’s simply how things work.

Of course, I couldn’t care less about trivial things as depreciation, and I’ll never agree with or understand people who do (and that’s on me, not them). I’m tremendously proud of every nick and flaw I’ve gathered over these past 4,000 miles, and I’m only sad I don’t have more. Patina is a wonderful thing; none of this lasts forever, so might as well enjoy and use it.

Sometimes people ask me if I ever get nervous about parking the GT3 relatively far away from home; what if someone messes with the car, or an inattentive driver dings the door (or worse). Indeed, the 25-year-old me would’ve been bothered and stressed to bits at such an arrangement, but the present me don’t worry about things I can’t control (try not to, anyways.) I’m glad and somewhat surprised that during the past nine months, nothing negative has happened to the car while parked (knock on wood), though even if that weren’t the case, that’s what insurance is for.

I certainly pay handsomely for it!

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Date acquired: January 2019
Total mileage: 27,991
Mileage this month: 479
Costs this month: $392
MPG this month: 15.55 mpg

August 2019: truly the dog days

Is the GT3 a practical car?

Relative question, of course.

The obvious and immediate answer should be “No”, and “Why would you ask such a question anyways?” The GT3 is the track-focused variant of the Porsche 911, the quintessential sports car; practicality shouldn’t even be a consideration of when it comes to these sorts of cars. You want something quick and fun to drive and also be able to serve double duty as a hauler of things? Go buy a fast wagon, rather than a super dedicated sports car.

But then you’d lose out on the joy of driving a 911, wouldn’t you?

Nevertheless, real life sometimes intervenes, and that entails going on grocery runs and running errands. Indeed, my GT3 is a weekend-only toy for the mountain roads, but being that it is my only car, there are moments where I have to take it to do the mundane duties of everyday life. That’s where the question of practicality enters into the discussion.

Unlike typical sports cars (my old Mazda MX-5 Miata, for example), where an utter lack of storage is the tradeoff you happily barter away for those sweet handling abilities and that smile on your face, the 911 is well-known for being somewhat practical. Though it is definitely not the nadir of its kind: the consensus most practical sports car is either the Porsche Cayman, or the Chevrolet Corvette. Like its 911 big brother, the Cayman has a trunk up front, but adds to that a useable rear trunk as well, space made available due to its mid-engine layout. Meanwhile, the Corvette’s rear parcel shelf is legendary for its ability to hold a set of golf clubs.

Good thing I don’t golf, and I really wanted the joy of driving a 911.

The key ingredient to the 911’s utility is the rear seats. Supremely small for anything larger than a tiny child, the 911’s rear seats shine for carrying non-human cargo. Once the seats are folded down, the rear passenger compartment acts as the de-facto rear trunk for the 911, able to swallow a surprisingly large number of things, like the set of golf clubs that fits in the aforementioned Corvette. Maybe I should take up golfing after all.

In GT3 trim, the rear passenger compartment is larger still than standard 911s, because there aren’t any seats at all. The lack of extra cushions and backrests means it’s even more practical and accessible, provided you don’t do the tacky thing and put a roll-cage back there (it does look awesome, I must say). It’s behind that seats where I usually store things, especially items that I’d want to keep cool.

Because the front trunk (frunk) can be best described as a hot mess. Cavernous and deep – an adult of smaller stature can actually fit inside and close the lid, the frunk of a 911 does the hard carry for the car’s overall utility quotient. But, there’s a problem: it gets stupendously hot. Nestled just in front of the compartment are the car’s radiators, and because of its high-performance roots, those heat-exchangers generate quite a bit of temperature, and it all gets permeated into the frunk. After a particularly spirited drive, the metal latch of the lid can actually get too scalding to touch.

It means only the sturdiest of items, ones that aren’t sensitive to heat, can and should be placed in the frunk. This immediately eliminates groceries of any kind (that ice cream you just bought will become milkshake by the time you get home), and electronics as well. I definitely don’t store my camera equipment in the frunk. Those go behind the seats inside the car, where it’s constantly air-conditioned to 70 degrees Fahrenheit. Porsche really should have climate-controlled the frunk, though I guess that would go against the lightweight racing ethos of the GT3. I think the regular 911s with a grand-touring bent should have an air-conditioned frunk as an option.

It’d certainly make the food run much easier.

Right; highly non-perishable items in the frunk, and everything else goes in the rear compartment; I reckon the GT3 has got enough space for a weekend’s camping trip, if so desired (I don’t.) And, if you’re like me and a bit of an introvert, the empty passenger seat can serve up some additional carrying capacity. The standard glovebox (the MX-5 didn’t even have one) is a decent size, and the door pockets (MX-5 didn’t those, either) can hold about four smartphones on each side, or about 200 speeding tickets.

So the answer to the question is, for me at least: the 911 GT3 is a very practical (sports) car.

I’d written in the July update that August isn’t looking too good for lots of miles, and as you can see in the stats below, my prediction was correct. It was a busy month for me outside of any car-related stuff, so I only did the bare minimum and drove the GT3 only once a week, to get all the mechanical bits up to temperature (these cars really don’t like to sit for very long) and keep the battery in topped up. I knew there would be months were driving opportunities are few, but I’d never thought I would have two consecutive months of under 300 miles driven.

The GT3 is too good and too expensive of a car to allow that to continue. I aim to at least break 500 miles for the month of September.

During August I did get a chance to properly wash the car, after having not done so for more than eight weeks. I’ve really gotten lazy about upkeep ever since I found out from the GT3’s first owner that the entire exterior – including the wheels – has been ceramic coated. Dirt and grime hardly ever stick to the car, so most of the time I simply hose it off and be done with it. Alas, after a certain extended period, I still have to break out the wash bucket and microfiber towels.

I have to say it’s still somewhat awkward and weird taking the GT3 to the local coin-op carwash to spray it down. I’ve got to be one of the very few Porsche 911 owners who does this; the more typical profile is someone rich enough to pay a professional detailer, or at the very least, have their own garage space to do it themselves. Meanwhile, I’m not even rich enough to be able to park the car anywhere near where I live.

To those car enthusiasts in similar situation, who are buying cars that are considered out of your income range but you’re making it work because of the love and passion, I salute you.

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Date acquired: January 2019
Total mileage: 27,512
Mileage this month: 265
Costs this month: $309.89
MPG this month: 17.2 mpg

July 2019: hard parked

Let’s talk about the GT3’s interior.

In a dedicated sports car, the points that truly matter inside the car boils down to three critical components: the steering wheel, the seat, and the gear knob. If a car gets those three things correct, everything else about the interior almost doesn’t matter. Because when the focus is the driving experience, the interaction between physical body and the parts of the car that touches it is all that matters. Get it wrong, and you probably shouldn’t buy the car.

Good thing Porsche is known for getting it very right.

First, there’s the seat. Having bought the GT3 used, I didn’t get to spec the car to my liking; given the hypothetical opportunity, I probably would have gone for the middle option: the 18-way adjustable sports seats. I didn’t want the racing buckets because I am decidedly not a track rat, and for my driving purposes – mountain roads and long cruises, something less hardcore and restrictive is more ideal. Not to mention that as an option, the 918-style bucket seats are far from cheap.

My particular GT3 does not have the buckets, but nor does it have the 18-way seats. Instead, I am stuck with the relatively poverty-spec option: the base 4-way adjustable seats. Wanting to get the search process over with as quickly as possible, it was something I was willing to overlook. From what I’ve read beforehand, the standard sport seats are, at the very least, super conformable; the question of whether it can hold my body decently in the corners was something I was willing to gamble with.

To my great surprise, the 4-way sports seats do the job quite sublimely. Despite its lack of adjustability on paper, after half a year of ownership I can say I’m not wanting in anything more. You wouldn’t think that by looking at them, though: the sport seats look absolutely ordinary, one that’s more fitting for a plain Carrera than the dedicated track model. The seats in modern hot hatches like the Civic Type R look more aggressive and racier. It’s amazing then how Porsche have managed to engineer such a plain looking seat to be so good.

As with any car enthusiast, I prefer to sit as low as possible inside; I’ve read many times how Porsche does well to provide a low seating position, and the GT3 does not disappoint. The seat adjusts really low to the ground, giving a feel of sitting in the car, rather than on it. In the appropriate position, I’ve got about a fist worth of headroom, which is downright cavernous compared my previous car the MX-5 Miata, where the top of my head was mere millimeters away from the fabric roof. Theoretically I can sit lower still using an aftermarket seat, but as is I’m already dangerously close to not being able to see the front fenders; going further down would be counterproductive.

After adjusting the seat-back rake, I’ve already exhausted the number of adjustments the base sports seat offer. There are no toggles for lumbar or the height of the thigh cushion, and honestly, I initially thought I’d miss those crucial settings. However, be it psychological bias (you tend to overlook certain things when it’s your car, don’t you?), or just the fact Porsche knows how to engineer a good seat, the standard lumbar and thigh cushion fits me perfectly well. Porsche raked the cushion at an aggressive angle, so my thighs are properly supported, and having done multiple hour stints in the GT3, the absence of lower back pain confirms so.

Right, onto the steering wheel; with the seats at an appropriately low and comfortable position, it’s critical the wheel is able to telescope outwards far enough to meet the driver, so the arms can form a 90-degree angle without the need to scoot the seat too far forward, compromising the legs. To that end, the GT3’s tiller is expectedly good, offering a vast range of motion both in/out and up/down. I am able to position the wheel out far enough to allow me to sit at just the right distance from the pedals.

Contrast to the MX-5 Miata that didn’t offer a telescoping steering wheel: I couldn’t move the seat further front because my head would hit the roof (extremely small convertible two-seater, remember), so the only solution was to live with the fact the steering wheel is slightly farther away than optimal.

I wasn’t about to repeat that in a car that costs six-figures.

Anyways, the steering wheel itself is a joy to hold, and the size a pleasing diameter when doing cornering maneuvers. As standard, the GT3 comes with an Alcantara-wrapped wheel rim, but the first owner of my car spec the leather option instead. I was somewhat disappointed at first because Alcantara is a such a fabulous material to grip, and of course, because racecar, but having owned the car for a bit of months, I’m now grateful for the leather wrap because it’s significantly easier to maintain. A simple wipe-down with warm water is all it needs, rather than the brushes and dedicated rejuvenators that Alcantara requires.

You know you’re in a dedicated, track-focused sports car when there are no extraneous controls on the steering wheel. It can be quite a jarring experience when most other cars on the road – and all the cars in our family other than the GT3 – the driver can adjust volume right on the wheel. That said, needing to move my right hand to turn the actual knob isn’t that much of a hassle because the 911 is a relatively small car; it falls right into hand once muscle memory unlearns the motion of thumbing the wheel spoke.

Also falling right to the hand is the PDK gear lever, the third important component to a sports car’s interior space. Back when the 991-generation 911 was introduced, some lamented the new interior copies the elevated sloping center console from the Porsche Panamera. Indeed, I too thought it was a bit gimmicky, in vain service of preserving family resemblance throughout the range (hello, 992 rear light bar). However, I’ve realized there is a utilitarian function: in raising the center console, the PDK lever – or the gear stick in manual transmission cars – also gets elevated, to a position that’s just about perfect for executing shifts rapidly. The distance the right hand has to travel to change gears is delightfully short, allowing it to quickly return to the wheel rim where it does its most critical work.

Obviously, quicker still is simply using the paddles to shift gears, but sometimes I want to pretend the GT3 has a racing sequential ‘box, and I’m madly tugging at the center stick to change gears.

Like the steering wheel, the standard PDK knob is wrapped in Alcantara, but because the first owner spec the wheel in leather, the gear stick also gets switched to the cow hide. Here I really have no preference given that I don’t touch the PDK stick nearly as much as the equivalent manual gearbox knob.

All three factors put together, the seat, the steering wheel, and the PDK lever, provides an experience that’s unprecedented in the previous cars I’ve owned; the GT3 Is simply outstanding. Indeed, the car is engineered for long stints at race tracks, so no surprise the driving position is precise and cocooning, but crucially, not fatiguing. Outside of full bladder situations, not once have I felt the need to stop the car after a long drive due to aching body parts.

The comfort doesn’t come in sacrifice of ability: while the seat bolsters may look ordinary, the standard sports seats hold me in supremely well (at least for my 5’11” frame). In regular mountain road driving, there is absolutely no need to additionally brace myself with legs, which again for seats that everyone on the Porsche forums call “sofas” and regard as subpar, they are amazing and a very pleasant surprise. No need for aftermarket Recaros in my future.

Armed with the perfect driving position, the rest of the GT3’s interior can be poor in quality and I’d be completely okay. Indeed, my last two cars – the MX-5 Miata and a Subaru WRX STI – are well known for low-rent interiors, with hard plastics draped everywhere. Nobody who bought those cars cared, of course, because those sort of entirely about driving. So long as the interior trim doesn’t literally fall apart, the cheapness in feel and touch is of zero consequence.

So, the fact the GT3’s interior appointments are appropriately German – which is to say, extremely nice – is simply icing on the cake.

Porsche customers are able to spec interior trim and pieces with an almost infinite amount of options, provided they’ve got the money (you want yellow-colored seat belts? That would be $600). Some of these optioned-up interiors can get quite wild: during the search for the GT3, I came across one particular sample that had all the interior trim – including the gauge cluster – color-matched to the exterior in Guards Red. I love Guards Red, my wish my GT3 was painted in Guards Red, but interior accents in that color is a step way too far.

Thankfully, the first owner of my particular GT3 did not go crazy with the options catalog; he didn’t even spec the gaudy Sport Chrono clock, which is something I really appreciate. All the owner spec on top of standard is the aforementioned leather wrap on the steering wheel and PDK knob, extra leather on the door cards and dash, and lastly, seat belts in GT Silver (I’d had skipped that). Tasteful and utilitarian; precisely how I prefer it.

With so much dead cow skin inside, the GT3 always smell wonderful, which saves me from having to buy the usual air freshener. What isn’t covered in leather is either covered in Alcantara, trimmed in real aluminum, or is the carpet floor itself; there’s very little visible plastic – even the sun visor is wrapped in leather. Fit and finish is superb to typical German standards, and not a rattle can be heard on the road, only the infrequent jingle of the keys hanging off the ignition.

While I do appreciate all the luxurious accoutrements – it’s indeed quite lovely to touch and stroke, I worry that come the time to truly deep clean the interior, it’s going to be much more laborious than simply wiping down plastic pieces. I’m shuddering now just thinking about cleaning and conditioning the acres of leather. Perhaps it’s my sensibilities from having owned Japanese cars: as long as the driving position is correct and comfortable, I really don’t need the extra fancy stuff.

Though Apply CarPlay would have been nice. I realize it’s a 2015 car, but it’s near unfathomable that a car costing this much didn’t even offer CarPlay as an option. It wasn’t until the 991.2-generation that Porsche decided to allow customers to pay for the privilege of Apple CarPlay.

The one thing I do love about the inside of the GT3, aside from the driving position, is the instrument cluster. As modern cars pivot to using digital displays in place of almost every interaction inside - from instruments, to navigation, and even HVAC controls - I’m really glad my “forever car” still features exquisitely mechanical instrument dials. None grander and more glorious than the center tachometer: the physical needle dancing to the engine’s heartbeat, and the demarcation indicating the 9K redline; it’s a real work of art.

It’s no surprise Porsche kept the tach – and only the tach – as a mechanical piece in the 992.

As you can see in the stats below, there weren’t whole lot of miles in the month of July. For the latter half I was traveling in Japan for nearly two weeks, and the weeks before that I had lots of non-car obligations to attend to. The handful of miles I did do were only in service of exercise the car, not allowing it to sit for too long. My parking situation doesn’t allow for a battery tender, so I actively avoid letting the GT3 sit for more than two weeks. A brief hour-long loop usual does the trick, which also explains the unusually high fuel mileage this month.

One small piece of news to report: the six-month renewal on the car’s insurance came up, and the cost went down by nearly $400 dollars over the next half of the year. It’s a very welcomed reprieve on the high insurance costs; I guess GEICO, having extracted enough money from me, now trusts me a little more to lower my risk profile. Slightly.

The month of August looks to be busy again with non-car stuff, so looks like the GT3 will sit more often than I’d like. A shame, because gas prices have gone down…

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Date acquired: January 2019
Total mileage: 27,247
Mileage this month: 211
Costs this month: $299.58
MPG this month: 17.2 mpg

June 2019: getting familiar

What are the logistics of owning a junior supercar like in a dense city like San Francisco?

Not terribly good, I have to say.

Mind you, this is from the perspective of someone who does not own a home in the city, and therefore no garage space to house the GT3. I’m sure the experience of a wealthy person with a house in Pacific Heights – the typical 911 owner, honestly – would be vastly different from what I have to deal with in order to enjoy the bliss of Porsche ownership.

Lacking a garage, the first order of business was to find a place to park the GT3 somewhat permanently. Our townhouse apartment has a secured lot, but parking a six-figure car in there, when most residents are working-class, is not the wisest. Unlike Asian countries where visible wealth is celebrated, here in America it’s antagonized, especially in the Bay Area where the haves – the tech bros – and have nots – the blue-collars – have been at loggerheads since this latest tech-boom began. In a city where private transport buses get attacked as a symbol for wealth-inequality, I reckon it’d be best to not park a Porsche at our apartment complex.

Obviously, street parking then is out of the question as well. I don’t live in a particularly good part of the city, and property crime as a whole in San Francisco have been on the rise. Leaving a GT3 parked on the street for an extended period of time (remember, I commute by bus) is not a good idea. I’d be inundated with stress, of someone backing into it (parking by braille), or worst, vandalizing it because how dare this person own such an expensive car. Also worth mentioning is the utter lack of street parking in my neighborhood, and the weekly street cleaning San Francisco is so well known for. To park the GT3 out there I’d literally have to play music-chairs with other cars, a super annoying task that anyone who lives in the city understands innately.

So where does the 911 get parked? At work. I’m lucky enough that where I work features a secured structure, and parking there costs only 20 dollars a month. Lacking this, I may not have bought the GT3 to begin with because to rent a parking space in the city is on average 300 dollars a month – about the same as a typical car payment, which is insane. As expensive as the Porsche is to buy and own, the additional cost to rent a spot just to store it would have made the entire proposition untenable – I’d have no money left for maintenance and unexpected costs (it’s a German car, after all).

Thanks my place of employment, I am able to tuck the GT3 neatly at the corner of the parking structure, undisturbed from the public, and also from the elements as well – it’s a covered lot. The car definitely keeps cleaner than it would have been had it been parked outside, and it saves me from buying a sunshade or getting the windows tinted.

While it’s great I don’t have to worry about the car during the weekdays, the arrangement of parking the GT3 at work is not without its challenges. It takes about a 20 minute drive or 45 minute bus ride (on a good schedule) to get there from the house, so on weekends when I want to take the car out for a spin, I have to factor in that extra time onto the equation. Car enthusiasts love to wake up super early and take their vehicles out on the local mountain roads just as the sun is rising; a hard thing for me to do because the additional time to get to the GT3 means I have to wake up even earlier. It’s really nothing to complain about, but those are indeed the circumstances. A typical two-hour drive on the weekends usually ends up taking the better part of three.

Perhaps someday I’ll have the means to have the GT3 at exactly where I’m living; until then, accessing the car is a bit of a pain.

Equally painful are the typical road conditions of San Francisco. I’m sure other cities and regions may have it worse, but that doesn’t alter the fact our pothole-ridden streets are not kind to track-focused super cars with wide, low-profile tires. Yes, I am that idiot weaving left and right to avoid road imperfections, while you in your cushy sports-utility vehicle can simply drive over them with nary a sensation felt inside. We’ve had quite a significant amount of rain this first quarter of the year, so the roads were even worse than usual. Indeed, there were a few times I questioned the wisdom of owning a car like the GT3 in such unfriendly environment, that it’d be better to park the car until conditions are fixed/improved for the Summer months.

But that’s not how I roll: cars are mean to driven, after all. In any and all situations.

Maybe I should have bought the wheel and tire warranty when I purchased the GT3 back in January; honestly the extra $2,600 outlay on top of the already hefty six-figure check I was writing to the dealership scared me the heck off of opting for the extra insurance. The car features forged alloy wheels, so I figured they would be far stronger than the typical cast aluminum sets in most other vehicles. For a motorsport-inspired product, it would be kind of sad if a stray pothole – and there are many in the San Francisco area – can so easily damage an alloy.

Tires are a different matter, and remembering that I caught a puncture within the first month of ownership, the warranty would have been ace had I paid for it. Luckily I was able to safely (?) patched the hole, though it was a more laborious affair than typical because again I don’t have a personal garage, so I had to perform the emergency surgery right in the work parking lot. I bet it looked quite peculiar for the few people who drove by, seeing me lying underneath a Porsche, tugging on the nail to force it out of the tire (damn you, centerlock wheels).

Indeed, simple maintenance items like plugging a tire or washing the car has to be done inside the parking structure. “Detailing? Where’d you get the hose and water?” Well, there obviously isn’t any of those things in the lot: in order to hose the GT3 down I have to drive it to a coin-op car wash facility in South San Francisco. I go to this particular establishment because it features a foam cannon, which is great for getting cleansing soap into spots otherwise unreachable.

I don’t then use the brush to scrub the body though, because we all know that’s terrible for the paint. It’s only a quick foam and rinse; I then drive the car back to the lot at work, where I then essentially wipe down the car with microfiber towels using Optimum No Rinse solution and the Garry Dean method. It’s highly effective, if a bit cumbersome in execution.

Wouldn’t it be nice: to be able to do all of this right there at the place I live in. Hashtag goals, as the kids say.

Since purchase, I’ve put about 3,000 miles on the GT3, signaling the halfway point in terms of mileage before the next oil change service. It’ll be a race to see if I hit the mileage marker or the date (December) first. I really hope it’s the former.

For service I will have to take the car to the dealership of course, because again, no garage, and therefore, no tools of any kind. It’s a complicated procedure anyways, one where I’m happy to pay the few hundred (yup, for an oil change) and let the dealer techs deal with it. The GT3 has dry-sump oiling with a separate reservoir and two drain plugs, so it’s far different from the standard road car. The 9A1 flat-six is highly sensitive to oil levels, therefore incredibly important to replace the fluid precisely. Since the car is still under the CPO warranty, it’s also better to have maintenance documentation from a dealership.

Too bad it’s all the way over across the bay in Fremont, some 50 miles from San Francisco. I could patronize dealerships more local, but because I bought the car from Fremont Porsche, I get a 10% discount on service, which when dealing with numbers in the hundreds and thousands, is not an insignificant sum.

During the month of June I went on a drive with a few car enthusiast friends up over at the mountains in Livermore. As one does in these morning gatherings, we hit the local Starbucks for a splash of caffeine fuel before heading off to the driving festivities. Being that I had to trek all the way there from San Francisco, I was quite a bit later than the rest to arrive, and I was unable to finish my coffee before setting off. No problem, I figured: that’s what cup holders are for.

My assumption was massively incorrect.

The GT3 does have cupholders, but in typical German fashion, it appears they’ve been designed as an afterthought, only to please those pesky Americans who adore their enormous, sugar-filled drinks. The mechanism in the 911 is intricate enough: the two lone cupholders in the entire car swings outwards just above the glovebox via a push on the panel, and the cradles simply hang in the air. From a beauty standpoint I think it looks rather good, but from a utility perspective, as a I found out, it’s utterly useless for any container that isn’t closed.

This is due to the fact the GT3 is a decidedly stiff car, and road imperfections filter into the cabin in a satisfactory, motorsport-inspired fashion. Great for the seat-of-the-pants feel, not so good for my cup of coffee sitting on the cupholder cradle. The incline out of the Starbucks parking lot alone was enough of a jolt to cause the liquid to splash out of the mouthpiece and right onto the center console. I immediately grab the cup off the cradle and rapidly drank more of the coffee to a level adequate to prevent any further spillage, no matter how intense it’s rocked.

Sadly it was a decent amount of coffee, and as someone who likes to sip slowly, it was not a pleasant to have to essentially chug it down. Damn you Germans and your eternal disdain for vehicular conveniences in sports cars.

It wasn’t all bad: on the same cruise on the Livermore mountains, I by chance was able to meet the very first owner (of which I’m the third) of the GT3. He had the car for a year, and traded it in for a McLaren 570S (as one does). These days he’s rolling around in a lime green 991.2 GT3 RS, which of course I was instantly admiring and jealous of. Nevertheless, I wouldn’t have imagined I’d be able to meet the previous owners of my car, much less the very person who put in the actual order and specified it to his liking.

So it was an interesting fact-finding chat; the guy explaining to me how he came to choose the color (the typical white or silver is too common to be special), and showing me pictures of the car receiving its paint-protection film. The key thing I found out about the GT3 is that it has had ceramic coating done to the entire exterior – including the wheels. I’d been marveling at how the prodigious brake dust from the Brembos doesn’t seem to be sticking at all to the wheels, and now I know why. This revelation means I don’t have to apply wax for the foreseeable future, and I can do periodic rinses in between detailing jobs to prolong the interval.

Personally, I wouldn’t have paid for ceramic coating (it’s nearly a thousand dollars for a competent job), so I’m glad the first owner chose to do so.

He also told me he took the car often to the track, and from circumstantial evidence (in one of the dealership pictures the car still had a tow-hook inserted up front) it seems the second owner did as well. This gives me reassurance, rather than the fraught that some second-hand buyers of these cars feel when they find out a particular GT3 has been used as intended. I’m buying a car to drive, not to sit pristine and pretty inside a heated garage, so a well-used sample doesn’t bother me at all. As it’s often the case, cars like the GT3 are worse off when its oily bits doesn’t get to operating temperate regularly. Designed for intense track-use, the first two owners actually did me a favor in ensuring my 911 is properly exercised

If anything, I actually came away from talking to the first owner with more confidence and adoration for the my GT3.

The seasonal rain finally ended in June, and we actually had a few days of unseasonably warm weather. It was perfect opportunity then to fully explore what the Michelin Pilot Sport Cup 2 tires can do. In a word: grip. A tremendous amount of grip. Restricted by the confines of mountain roads and my admittedly poor driving ability, I was unable to get the Cup 2s to invoke even a hint of protest squeal, much less going over its edge for various slip angles. The grip on offer is simply astounding, and crucially it can be felt over the steering wheel, giving me confidence and egging me on to push that much faster.

As maligned for the transition to electric assist as it was back when it first launched, I have to say the GT3’s steering is sublime, and up to the expectations from having read about the famed Porsche steering. Yes, it doesn’t wriggle and dance like a good hydraulic rack, but it’s as communicative as I’d ever need it to be. I can instinctively feel how much turn-in the front-axle can offer - whether or not those Cup 2s are up to proper temperature - through my hands on the wheel.

As sticky as those Michelins are, I think I’m still going to switch to a set of Pilot Sport 4S tires when the Cup 2s are worn out. Living here in San Francisco there just aren’t enough hot weather days to fully lit them up; the less aggressive PS4S rubber offers a larger operating window to access maximum grip, not to mention it fares better in the wet as well. A soft goal is to wear the Cup 2s out during this Summer; let’s see if that will be achieved.

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Date acquired: January 2019
Total mileage: 27,036
Mileage this month: 587
Costs this month: $449.47
MPG this month: 15.53 mpg