So the contrast to the other racing 911, the 2010 GT3R Hybrid could not have been more stark. This similarly unique car’s claim to fame is that it ran with a flywheel spinning in a vacuum in a sealed carbon box on the floor of the passenger compartment, directing harvested electricity to the front wheels to create what remains the only hybrid 911 ever made. Today the box is still there, but all the hybrid gubbins has been removed, leaving a nice, simple, rear drive GT3R for me to drive.
And given the choice, I’d still be driving it now. The clutch is sharp but once you’re rolling you don’t need it again, so you just listen to the bellow of an unsilenced racing flat-six as you chuck gear after gear at it via column mounted paddles. The noise alone would have made the trip to West Sussex worth it. But actually the real fun came in the corners, which it attacked with maniacal zeal but none of the jeopardy that came with the 961. On the contrary, it flicked into the apex with total authority, its steering providing a constant appraisal of conditions under foot. By the time I got to the flint wall and some heat in the tyres I was having the time of my life. Two more corners. I flung it at both because it’s what it seemed to want and in an instant was over the line. It felt as at home here as the 961 had felt at sea. The older car was undoubtedly far more valuable and special in its engineering, but given the choice of one more run and I’d walk straight past it to have one more crack at that gorgeous GT3R.
Photography by Joe Harding and Porsche.