A funny thing happened on the way to drive the Porsche Speedster. That thing is a 1953 Porsche 356 America Roadster, the 17th of 17 ever constructed. We are going to get to the Lilliputian Porker at a minute, but first I should put my cards on the table regarding the newest chopped-windshield speed machine from the folks at Zuffenhausen. What is the ideal car available now? If you ask me, it’s the 991.2 Porsche GT3 using a manual transmission. Hurry if you want one since they’re just about all gone. The Speedster, then, is the same world-beating driver’s car with the roofing lopped off and the other 20 horsepower out of a reworked engine. Still a guide, too. Therefore, because I’ll be able to listen to the glorious, naturally aspirated, 4.0-liter flat-six with its joy-inducing 9,000 rpm redline even better, all the while still shifting my equipment, the Speedster is, should be my new favorite vehicle. Yes, sure, Porsche trucked out a lot of memorial automobiles (917, 918, 959! ) ) For people to horse around with, but surely a 70-hp anachronism out of Nixon’s first term as vice president would be nothing more than an amuse-bouche ahead of the entrée; a brief movie to get through before the movie starts. An undercard before the main… you see where it’s going, yes?
What a thing! I’ve driven stripped-down sports cars before, but never one like the America Roadster. The story is that after World War II, people were hungry to go racing. This was especially true in the United States, where the market was flourishing. Early Porsches were readily modifiable and light and small, and folks took them racing. Much better, though, (for Porsche) to create a car in the mill that customers can then race, no? That is what mythical importer Max Hoffman told/sold Porsche. Who better to push this kind of vehicle than John”Johnny” Von Neumann. As both were Hoffman knew Von Neumann. Most men and women understand Von Neumann from the heap of cash he left as a Ferrari and Porsche importer, but he had a pretty good racing career before heading on to encourage such legends like Phil Hill, Ken Miles, also Jack McAfee. He was one of the members of the married and this CIA a Ziegfeld Follies dancer. More important for our purposes is that Von Neumann founded the California Sports Car Club after moving to–you guessed it–California. As such, he and those like him wanted cars.
Enter the America Roadster. A total of 17 were built, of which comprised lightweight aluminum bodies 16. The total weight of this particular case (number 17 of 17) with gasoline in the tank is under 1,350 pounds. That’s about 100 pounds heavier than a Lotus 7, a car so mild it might be a bike (not really). The air-cooled, 1.5-liter flat-four produces 70 horsepower, which may not seem like much until you realize that in 1953 the regular 356 kicked out just 40 ponies. Not to be confused with all the 356 Speedster–that came later and price two-thirds the price–America Roadsters were not a commercial success. But boy oh boy didn’t have the formula right.
You’re familiar with discontented Porsches? The America Roadster is where that notion began. The white car I drove headlights along with also a switch on the dash said –and that is it! The only other control is a button and a keyhole. Initially, this particular Von Neumann automobile was spec’d without turn signs. That is nuts. The Porsche Museum went ahead and installed indicator bulbs under the headlights (small red lights) so that the automobile could legally be driven on public streets –but again, nuts. Additionally, there are no door handles, no wipers, no roof of almost any sort –nothing. OK, at some point someone installed lap belts, but I did not find them until after my driveway when I looked under the chair for my mobile phone. Side note: This specific car may be the very first 356 to sport twin grilles on the engine lid. Yours truly may (or may not) have made that discovery.
Did I mention it was driven by me? What a hoot! “Pure,” I guess, is the world I am searching for, but I always cringe at that one. Exhilarating is a better descriptor. As are raw, uninhibited, as well as fantastic. The skinny Avon race tires offered more traction than I’d assumed potential, and the more I kept forcing the America Roadster, the enchanting and enjoyable it obtained. Do you understand how automobile scribe forms are constantly complaining about thick A-pillars you can’t see about? Well, not only does this 356 have little more than quarter-height, vestigial A-pillars, I could put my head over the windshield to check around corners! Wonderful, wonderful, wonderful! I fell in love with. I got convinced, too. From the end of my day on a personal, one-lane wine-country street I flung and zinging the tiny thing around with a certain amount of recklessness. Hey–that the little car made me do it. When they informed me that automobile 17 is valued at $ 4 million, that’s. Talk about a big gulp.
As I thought more and more about the America Roadster following my too-brief stint staring at it (the thing is gorgeous) and my time behind the wheel, I understood something. This vehicle is the reason Porsche matters. This car is what it is all about. That is what little Porsche back in 1953–attracted to the table. That is what the brand is capable of. It’s possible. These supercars from Weissach, those GT2 RSS trading hands for $150K over sticker, 30,000 people paying $65 a ticket for Luftgekühlt to look at parked Porsches–all of that comes back to these 17 initial factory hot rods.
I would also argue that it could all come back to the particular car, number 17, the one ordered with no turn signals, door handles, a mirror, or even a trunk handle. This happening that us gearheads are enamored with, this runaway German success story–I, for one, am a little closer to knowing where it all started. Automobile 17 is a museum piece, and maybe another 100 people will be fortunate enough to push the thing before I am dead. I believed I was going to work but I’ve unwittingly become an ambassador for one. Built-in human history, with assists from two guys, chased out of their home by the Nazis–I don’t understand the car gives me hope for humankind. Maybe I’m getting carried away, but I loved driving the thing.
Oh, and the Speedster was driven by me, too. Yeah vehicle, pretty much what I thought and stated in the opening paragraph. A 991.2 GT3 sans roof. Do you have $? You need to buy one. Our tech guru Frank Markus composed a solid Initial Drive review of a single –see it. The Speedster is fantastic, got it. But that America Roadster, man, that car is something else. Something ago, something truly, honest magical that is analog. Something assembled with a singularity of function and something has gone.
