Kremer’s denim-clad GIANT KILLER
After its domination with prototypes such as the 908 and 917, Porsche found itself in need of a new saviour on track in the mid-1970s. Its salvation arrived in the form of the 911 RSR.Andrew Frankel tries one of the finest of the breed
PHOTOGRAPHY: JAYSON FONG
Some are older, many are faster, but if you were to ask me to name the greatest version of the world’s greatest sports car, I would name this car, the 3-litre version of the Porsche 911 RSR.
Why? Because it is the ultimate naturally aspirated 911 based on the original 911 design. It represented the final point on its journey as a racing car before the purity of its design had to be compromised to go any faster. In this case, compromised by a turbocharger.
It is true that forced induction provided the RSR with a whole new lease of life, and also spawned cars that would pass into racing legend – the Le Mans-winning 935 among them – but while these brutal machines were quicker over a lap, were they ever as good to drive? When I asked Britain’s foremost 911 racer Nick Faure to name his favourite Porsche he was quick to reply: “Oh, it’s the RSR, no doubt about that. The most beautiful car to drive, so much easier to balance than the later turbo cars. You could do anything in an RSR.” And he did, including in 1975 helping drive a private RSR from 30th on the grid at Le Mans to sixth at the flag, beaten only by one other RSR and four prototypes.
To give you an idea of how successful the RSRs were in period, they filled the first five
places in the GT category in that Le Mans race. At the Daytona 24 Hours that same year where prototypes were not eligible to race, of the top nine finishers just one was not an RSR, and that came seventh. In the seven rounds of the World Sports Car Championship in which any GT car finished, RSRs won six. The year before they won their class everywhere but at Le Mans. And what’s astonishing is these achievements came against more powerful cars, be it a 4.4- litre Ferrari Daytona whose engine had twice the number of cylinders and camshafts and almost 50 per cent more capacity, or monster 7-litre Corvettes. In the mid 1970s if you wanted to succeed in GT racing, you needed an RSR.