Driving the Porsche 917K

How often do you get a chance to climb into the cockpit of a Porsche racecar and run a few hot laps? And in a historically significant one no less, a breakthrough design that changed the image of Porsche forever. Mention the Porsche name among today's car enthusiasts and the first thing likely to pop into their heads is the $180,000 911 GT-2 that pumps out 462 screaming horses—and will blow past a Corvette Z06 like it's chained to a tree—or maybe the ferocious 200+ mph 935, 936 and 956 prototypes that dominated endurance racing for over a decade.

Pivotal Porsche
Porsche hasn't always been famous for these muscle-bound masterpieces, though. In the 1950s and 1960s it was principally known for building agile, lightweight, but moderately-powered machinery that dominated small-bore racing but didn't have much of a chance of winning overall at the major events. All that changed in 1970, and the machine that turned Porsche around was the legendary 917. It was a pivotal car in the Porsche dynasty, the first "big" Porsche that was intended to win overall, not just in class. Despite a slow start, a strained German/British/Austrian alliance developed the 917 into the premier endurance-racing car of its era.


Prior to that achievement, in 1968 and 1969 Porsche had built technically sophisticated two- and three-liter prototypes to compete in the endurance races that compromised the FIA Championship of Makes. Despite their best efforts, they were humbled at Le Mans by Englishman John Wyer's private team of obsolete Ford GT40s powered by 5-liter Ford pushrod V-8s. Something had to be done.

Wild Ride
In 1969 Porsche introduced its first big banger, the 917. Powered by an air-cooled 4.5-liter flat-12 that produced 580 hp, it had all the potential in the world. However, the car proved to be as lethal to its own drivers as it was to the opposition, spending the 1969 season breaking down, snaking dangerously at high speed and sliding luridly from corner to corner. The top factory drivers actually preferred the smaller 3-liter 908 since it was both more controllable and reliable. At Le Mans, a privately entered 917 crashed on the first lap, killing its driver. The 917 was off to a rough start.


In 1970 a most unlikely hero rode up to the walls at Porsche and rescued the forlorn 917. It was the same John Wyer who had beaten them so convincingly the past two years, now hired by an astute Ferry Porsche to make some sense of their expensive and unwieldy racing program. Wyer recognized the genius in the 917, and immediately set to controlling its bad habits.