What a perfect little blast... - Page 1 - Porsche General - PistonHeads UK

Der, I can absolutely empathise. I was quad biking in mid-Wales a week ago and as i left the farm on a Saturday afternoon heading south towards Swansea i had a good 30 or 40 mile blast across some truly spectacular roads. There's nothing like Welsh mountain two lane blacktop to stir the senses. The smell of Mobil 1, the noise of the six cylinder air pump in the ample arse of my 4 wheeled wonder... damn that was fun. And i'm doing it all again on April 12th. If you were a woman i'd be Fedexing a fat diamond ring. VS (don't look in the classifieds)

Oh derestricted one...indeed I can empathise with your joyful hoonery. I too recently enjoyed the most fantastic day of fuel injected mayhem. Mine was at Brands Hatch in a Caterham Superlight. Two hours of track time culminating in a final session in which I was able to fully appreciate the finer aspects of the user-friendly handling of the car. With the car squirming on every corner and the throttle determining the exit point I was in Petrol Heaven...even though I can hardly claim to be a genuinely quick driver I can certainly enjoy myself - and enjoy myself I did! Fantastic. Got to do it again..SOON..I'm addicted.

Well done gentlemen. You know, this is precisely why the NSL is such arse. We saw those ridiculous urban guerillas in their hot Novas last night, during the anti-car 'Car Junkies' Trojan horse prog but as we all know so very well, spirited driving in open road conditions is/should be one of the quintessential joys of allegedly free society, without upsetting anyone. VS - those roads you speak of - sshhh! Don - quite agree - and in fact, whilst not pushing that hard, of course, on the public roads, the 'feel' of a performance car and the synchronicity of all the operations, flowing, is an utter joy in itself. Elise or F40, it probably wouldn't change my appreciation of the basic tactility involved. In short, I think it's possible to drive hard without being a git.

Love it, D, so true, so true. And now you'll have to have your smile surgically removed........ Melv

Just had such a moment this morning, very short and sweet but a little 2 mile stretch past the Racecourse at Aldershot. Never been down there before (just coming back from a look at the T350C in Racing Green)(nice!), no traffic, very twisty (could see the marks where a couple of people have not had such good fun), probably caused a bit of a stir with people travelling in the opposite direction but I was on my own side of the road and most importantly having fun. Sweet!

A perfect little entry for the 'Derestrictor Anthology of Superlative Motoring Escapades', to be published by me when I get a moment or two Keep up the good work Simon! D

DeR, delighted to hear the beetle is being aloowed to fully exercise itself. I too had some fun yesterday afternoon on a private test facility near my home town which Verysideways is familiar with. I taught a Honda Fireblade rider that not all cars are for numpties. DAZ

After working anything up to 36 hours in a HOT air conditioned building one can feel a little, well, 'tacky' and occasionally a little tired and tense. As long as it is dry and not below freezing I normally take the roof down for the drive home. Tonight - 12 hours on, pretty busy all day, and tired. Car zymoled over weekend and the black paint looking like wet gloss is glinting under the orange lights of the car park, flat six burbles into life, roof glides down, cool air wafts around my head and neck whilst warm air drifts up from the footwell, an endless expanse of blackness stretches out up above with the occasional star shining through the cloud, roads pretty well deserted, blipping the throttle on the down changes, holding the revs on the up changes, gliding through bends, and a short stretch of NSL just before home where the moors and fields rush past to the sound of a flat six howl. Now i'm ready for another day!

I came back from Spain yesterday ( went to watch the World Superbikes in Valencia ) and I flew into Manchester at around midnight to be greeted by the mouthwatering task of driving my 944S2 over Snake Pass and back into Sheffield. Didn't see a single car and did one of the fastest runs ever back from the airport, I was still trembling from all the adrenelin when I got out of the car. Weekends don't get any better than that Andy >> Edited by AndyS2 on Tuesday 4th March 21:55

does anyone know the run from Rye to Ashford? I did it about 2 weeks ago, a lot of traffic going my way, but not much from the opposite direction. I must have screamed past 40 cars in all - what glorious fun

My S2 has been in the garage all week having the handbrake fixed and new rear discs so I'm having to drive my Peugeot diesel everywhere Getting it back on saturday though...

Picked my car up today Had some fun on the way back with a pesky MG TF (new MGF) - he was managing to keep up fairly well, though I wasn't trying too hard... Then near Stanton Harcourt met a lovely classic red 911 which looked like it was in a racing livery (roundels on the doors etc) Got a good look as we were passing a horse at the time, exchanging a nod of recognition of our chosen marque as we passed

Aaah, perfectly connected to the road, the rush of the turbo, the g's pulling at your body, god I miss summer, dang snow

Do you ever go for a quickie and get back, thinking 'wow, that was just the perfect run?' For the first Sunday this year, presumably thanks to Man Utd & Liverpool FCs' ability to remove huge swathes of numptista from the region's roads and the prospect of perfectly bright, dry conditions in the environs, I fired up the zymoled one, dropped the windows, opened the roof and proceeded to savagely question the limits, not so much of Newton's promulgations, rather, the resolution of my own nerve. I needn't have bothered because everything gelled; the feel, the sound, the braking, the down changes - even a marvellously immature, crassly exuberant impromptu Alain Prost traffic lights grand prix scream away. The paucity of traffic and thankfully cooperative nature of other motorists allowed massive indulgences - one chap in an S-Type even gave me a thumbs up on a 6-5th down-blipskreig, which although it sounds banal, really set the seal on the hoonery. Indeed, bereft of the uber electro-aids of the latest series 911s, I nevertheless cast a modicum of caution to the winds during a roundabout inside lane hoofer, so light was the other traffic and dry the macadam, that a quick 2nd gear blitzer fired me round; I was momentarily lost in the descriptive syrup of some ancient, hairy-arsed super car review, as I followed the Diablo owner's blind faith in gumball suction, hopefully sufficient chassis set-up and my own take on the Peter Wheeler traction control device, my right foot! And what a joyous feeling, firing out the other side, probably well within the actual tolerances but enough to have me jibbering with glee. And there it was; less than an hour later, the car still sparkling clean, the engine pinging and me, happy as any car nuuter could possibly be, just replaying the action back through my readrenalised brain. This happens SO infrequently but when it does, it absolutely reminds me why I'm a PHer. Sad but I hope one or two of you chaps can empathise. Thank God for speed.