Weather-Worn and Waterlogged

We met at Lewis and Clark State Park, at exit 18 off Interstate 84. It was a drizzly, overcast day, with the temperature in the 40s. This was a weekly tour put on by the local region of the Porsche Club of America, ORPCA. There were 13 cars in all: three Macans, two Boxsters, three Caymans, one Taycan and four 911s.

Our 1975 911 S was one of only two air-cooled Porsches, and the oldest car on the tour. In other words, we were the only car without fat tires and a stack of computers to help us go fast and be safe.

Our 106-mile route on the east side of Mt. Hood covered many familiar roads. I have been driving on them for decades, on Alfa Club events and as a part of our SCM 1000 tours. On a bright and sunny day, behind the wheel of our 1965 Alfa Romeo Giulia Spider Veloce or 2006 Lotus Elise, they would offer a challenging and tasty mix of ups and downs with sharp turns in between.

Slip slidin’ away

This day was different. The rain continually increased, leading to a combination of wet pavement covered with recently fallen maple leaves. It was slick. Under heavy braking, we could feel the rear end of the 911 wanting to swap places with the front.

I reminded my co-driver Lou that “we had better get all of our braking done early” — easier said than done with skinny tires and no antilock brakes. While enthusiasts have for decades complained about electronic “nannies,” I found myself wishing for a spoonful of sugar, anything to help us coming down the many hills that ended with decreasing-radius, off-camber turns.

In short, the car was more than a handful. Worse, we were not having fun.

Thankfully, Lou was a quick learner, and the deep finger imprints I left in his right upper arm soon disappeared.

The route ended at the Harvester Taproom in rural St. Paul, OR, about 30 miles from Portland. We had a delicious pizza and a glass of some good Oregon pinot noir.

Noah’s Porsche

By the time we set out for home, however, it was pitch dark. Here above the 45th parallel, the sun goes down not long after 4 p.m. during the winter months. And our 911 still had its original one-candlepower headlights.

As we merged into the 80-mph freeway traffic, another downpour started, this one of biblical proportions. The spray thrown up by the passing cars and trucks was considerable. I checked later, and the weather service recorded one-half inch of rain falling in that half hour.

I was trying to settle in for the short trip home when the passenger’s side wiper suddenly ceased its rhythmic sweeps and began colliding with the driver’s side arm, making clashing metallic noises.

I had been merely frightened. Now I was terrified. We were hydroplaning, in a deluge, with wipers that were fighting a pitched battle with one another. All this while being passed by giant SUVs that threw waves of water onto the hood of the diminutive Porsche.

I thought about asking Lou to pull over, but it seemed like crossing through the traffic to get off at the next exit was even more dangerous than just staying our course and hoping the ongoing war of the wipers didn’t become mutual assured destruction.

Did I mention we couldn’t get the heater to work? So, like a submarine sinking to the bottom of the sea, the car was getting colder and colder inside. Luckily, we figured out how to get the defroster to produce a waft of warm air at the base of the windshield.

Fair-weather friends

As you have probably guessed, we eventually arrived safely home. We were alive and the car did its job without further incident. We were not even particularly wet.

But as Lou and I talked about it, we decided that taking the 911 on tours on rainy days and driving at night is just a bad idea. The next time the weather is uncooperative, we’ll be sitting it out.

We did get the Porsche fixed. A quick trip to A&P Specialties had owner Al Blanchard tightening the nuts at the base of the wiper arms as well as adjusting the flaps that control the heat and airflow. Removing the car from preservation-class trophy potential, we also said goodbye to the original puffy, saggy sun visors. They had been on the car since 1975, when it was delivered new at Al Holbert Porsche in Warrington, PA, one of the first Porsche dealerships in the U.S. With a pair of new, modern H4 headlights installed, we should see more clearly the next time we get caught out after dark.

Driving a 50-year-old car is a tricky balance between the pleasures of being transported to a different point in time, with all the smells and sounds of a vintage experience, while also remaining acutely aware of the limitations and dangers that come with any trip into the past. ♦