The Possibility of Porsche Driving
Why to Book Seat Time at the Porsche Driving Experience Center
The whir of the engine revs tickled my toes and in response I squeezed the steering wheel. I felt my pulse pick up in response. The voice of the instructor — a trained professional — made my anticipation subside. I took a deep breath and relaxed my shoulders. I tapped the accelerator and the Porsche 718 Cayman GT4 RS immediately perked up.
A Porsche on a racetrack at the Porsche Driving Experience Center in Atlanta is in its natural environment. Porsches in this setting are pure pizazz. Porsche products stay potent and pretty. The iconic German make is having a moment among enthusiasts of all ages as vintage models keep their luster over the decades. Porsches are the Picassos of car collecting – it’s often the first brand burgeoning newly minted enthusiasts covet. The 911’s decades old shape is proportionate, pleasing, and timeless, which makes old Porsches as exciting to spot as new ones. Porsches can quickly get confusing to outsiders – so many subtle differences around the variants that on the surface can seem almost the same. Enthusiasts delight in these subtle tweaks and variations, which lends to a high-level of customization. The upside to driving the newer models – like the performance-perfected Cayman I drove — is that they are packed with motorsport technology. Slowly, Porsche is also making more of its new cars electric and efficient. Eventually, the Cayman will follow suit. New Porsches are also much easier to maneuver, while still true to the classic form.
Turn by turn, I worked my way through the course, concentrating on the instructor’s cues to find my way to a clean, fluid line. Bit by bit, I was getting faster and more gracious. It helped that the elegant sports car stayed in sync with me. Brake blip, shift head, turn wheel, pick up the pace. Carry speed wide and go! Soon, I found my way to full throttle on the straightaway and I was off and running and free. Looking up, and always, looking ahead. The driver reminded me of the most important lessons applicable to all parts of lif.
When I first starting writing about cars two decades ago, performance driving was a way to prove to myself that I was tough, the whole do-something-scary-everyday mantra. I had gone through a rough time in my personal life and I was rebuilding my self esteem at the time I started reporting on cars. I soon discovered performance driving programs — instructional one or even two-day courses held at racetracks — and became enamored. Lap after lap, I went faster and felt stronger. I attended a dozen schools and wrote about the product and the sport of racing. Fast cars had once intimidated me, but these opportunities taught me that I could find a place for myself in this very narrow exclusive culture where my gender made me daring and different. What these programs did — in addition to making me a better driver — was to give my confidence a boost. Driving on the track also spoke to my humility. I wasn’t afraid to fail. In real world situations the driving practice enabled me to stay clear headed and avoid disaster, like the time I had a split second to react on an icy overpass when a semi veered into my lane on a dark winter morning. I came out of it safe, serene, and grateful.
I am not sure I would still be writing about cars without the seat time that shaped my experience, because I’m not sure I would even care about cars. Cars have caused a lot of destruction to society, from our air quality to our infrastructure, but like everything that’s complex there’s a bit of redeeming wonderment there, too. The tiny glimpse I had into the majesty of speed on the track helped me understand why people go wild for their cars. My father, a Detroit man, dedicated a big chunk of his career to sports car engineering and marketing. As a teenager, I thought this work was wasteful and stupid, and in retrospect, I’m sure my disdain was a bit cruel. When I discovered the joy that this field gave people, I learned to consider another perspective and found a way to participate, too.
In my early days of car writing, I embraced this unexpected interest. I told people I liked cars, but unlike my most people who write about cars and work in the industry, I don’t love them. What I do love about the work I do is experiencing the aspects of life that put us in touch with ourselves. That’s what I love about driving. I love to learn how people see themselves in what they drive. I get to drive a lot of cars, a perk and a privilege of being asked to evaluate them. I love that part of my job, too. I love that driving gives me time to dream and to challenge myself.
I don’t spend much time on tracks these days. It doesn’t have to do much with my editorial mission — to help people make better, more empowering choices about the cars they drive as we move toward more sustainable forms of mobility. Daily driving is not romantic – no one loves to sit in a standstill commute so track time isn’t the real world experience. Every now and then, I wonder if I’ve lost my edge, if I’ve become too timid over time to push the edge behind the wheel. I wonder if I’m still capable of finding joy in pushing my limits. When the opportunity arose last week to visit the Porsche Drive Experience Center, and spend a few minutes on the track, I had nothing to prove to anybody except myself. The added bonus was remembering what made all of this so fun in the first place.
After my seat time was over, the pro took me for a spin in his version of performance driving. It was a good reminder of how much more the car could do and that I still have room to grow from where I am these days. I’m not on a time table or pursuing a motorsports certification. It’s simply fun to go fast sometimes. After a tiny tune up at the Porsche Driving Experience Center in Atlanta, Georgia, I’m all good behind the wheel again, and ready for more.