I thought I would put a few words down about the story of the '77 911 I bought last year; I think it's a pretty good story, and I don't want to forget the details.
In April of 2019, I decided I wanted a different car. I'd had my 2011 Ford Mustang for 9 years and it had been a great car, but it's just not very engaging to drive fast. Besides, I live in California and it seemed like it would be fun to have an open-top sports car.
So, I started to think about what to do: on the one hand, I could sell my Mustang and buy a late-ish model convertible sports car; or I could buy a classic convertible sports car to fix up on the weekends and keep the Mustang as a daily driver.
I considered the options: in the late-ish model category, I liked the idea of a first-gen Boxster, a used 911, a newer Miata, or a Wrangler (not a sports car, but open top and I like camping so it seemed like it might be worth a try). In the classic car category, a 911 Targa seemed like the only viable option: a unique driving experience, quality construction, and the roll bar/Targa configuration were all appealing. I thought about a T-top Corvette, but heard from a good friend that the T-tops leaked even when new. And comparable Italian sports cars, while appealing, just seemed too unreliable to tempt fate with.
I googled around and found an appealing 911 for sale at Beverly Hills Car Club. They had an '86 911 SC Targa in metallic blue in stock, $32,500 and in excellent shape. So, I emailed the sales department and set an appointment to test drive the car. I arrived at the right time, but the salesperson was busy so I strolled around. They had about 15 911s for sale, as well as a whole row of E-Types, a DB7 convertible, about 20 pre-war limousines, a bunch of Corvettes and Mustangs and Camaros, and a myriad of other eclectic old cars. It was a fun way to spend a Saturday, browsing all those old cars. I met a British kid about my age, mid-20s: he was scouting cars to buy and take back to England, seemed as if he had a lot of money to spend.
Finally, the salesperson was ready to show me the car. One of the tires had gone flat, so they put air in it and we went for a test drive. I absolutely loved the little car: strong motor, easy to drive in traffic, quiet even with the top down at highway speeds. I was ready to buy, but it turned out that the car wouldn't pass California emissions because it didn't have a catalytic converter. No other 911 Targas were available that could pass smog except a 1973.5 car with the first CIS system and a 2.4L motor. It was listed for $50k, though, way out of my budget, so I politely declined a test drive in it and asked the salesman to let me know if something fitting my needs came in.
Next, I drove to a Mazda dealer with a 2018 Miata on the lot. It had the Brembo brake package and a 6-speed manual. A young kid took me out for the test drive, and we had a fun conversation but the car just wasn't as fizzy or tight as the 911. Reliable and safer, but boring.
Next, I test drove a new Wrangler. What an absolute TRUCK! Probably great off-road, but loud tires, top-heavy, and not all that much car for $35k new. That didn't even include leather seats! Just couldn't stack up against that 911.
The following weekend, I test drove a 996 Targa, a first-gen Boxster, and a 996 Cabriolet. The Targa was a great deal at $15k, but once I looked in the rear view mirror with the top down I knew I couldn't live with the car. There was absolutely no rear view mirror visibility with the glass roof in the open position: the glass roof slides backwards over the fixed rear window, and the combined tempering/polarization makes it so dark that you can't see anything behind you. That and the lackluster interior quality turned me off. The Boxster was much more fun, spritely, but not as fizzy/ compelling as the old 911. Just not as special of a driving experience, it felt mushier. Did those cars have power steering? The 911 Cabriolet felt like it was about to fall apart, and the top down highway noise was louder than the Targa.
Months passed. In spare moments at work, I searched Hemmings for 911 Targas and learned more about what each generation had to offer. Quickly figured out I couldn't afford a "long-hood" car or an 87-89 car with the G50 transmission. Also figured a sunroof wouldn't scratch my open-top itch.
Then, one Friday afternoon, I found a 1977 911S Targa for sale in Long Beach. Black, with a black interior. Some cracked lenses, a few scratches & dings, 205k miles. But there was a video of the engine running very well, and it was priced well within my budget. So, I emailed and set up an appointment to see the car the next morning. A man called me to confirm the appointment, and explained he was selling the car on behalf of the owner. He was the one who posted the ad, made the video, and took all the photos. He was a professional car inspector. We set up a time, and I went to bed excited to see the car the next morning. (Original ad:
https://imcinspection.com/1977-porsche-911s-2-7-l-targa-top/)
I drove down to Long Beach, and the car was sitting in the driveway of a very nice high-rise building right on the coast. Behind the car was a large Harley Davidson, which I figured was the inspector's. He and I met, I parked my car in the parking garage, and we went back up to the car. I don't remember looking at it very much, but I do remember the test drive. I asked the inspector to drive the car out of the parking lot and around the block so I could listen for odd noises, leaking seals around the windows, or other things like that. He drove the car beautifully, ran it through the gears fast and smooth, and I was wowed. It just felt so fast, and exciting. I was hesitant to really punch it the way he had when I got behind the wheel, but I did after a few stop lights when we got to the coastal road and it was just nirvana. I distinctly remember saying out loud, "I'm going to have a hard time not buying this car."
Hearing that, the inspector said he would introduce me to the owner and explained that although there were several offers from Germany for it, the owner wanted the car to stay in the states and go to someone who would drive it. The owner was 97, was in a wheel chair, and came to greet me smoking a cigar. Talk about smoke 'em while you've got 'em. I explained I wanted to buy the car, and he asked me what I wanted to do with it. I said I wanted to drive it, have fun, and fix a few odds and ends. He agreed to sell it to me. I had the car inspected by a local mechanic: compression test came back OK, only mechanical fault was loose front wheel bearings, so I decided I could handle the cosmetics and any required repairs that might come up down the road. A while later after the financials and DMV details were taken care of I came back to pick up the car.
The inspector and I filled out all the paperwork, the previous owner signed, and we went over how certain parts of the car worked. He showed me the tool kit, all the old receipts, where the hood release was, and so on. The previous owner stipulated, as we had agreed earlier, that I return his custom veteran "AF B24" license plates once mine came in from the DMV. I thanked both the inspector and the previous owner, and I drove off with the car to have the front wheel bearings replaced by the shop that inspected the car.
The road out of the garage was steep, about a 15% grade. I was nervous about a hill start on such a steep road with the manual transmission, so I tried to creep up to level ground before turning into traffic. Before I could, a skateboarder came out from behind a corner and dove into the crosswalk. So I had to stop right before the top of the hill. Just then, a minivan had pulled up behind me, leaving little room. So, I clenched my jaw, revved the motor to about 3k rpm, and let the clutch out with as much finesse as I could muster. I heard the tires chirp, but I didn't roll back. Still, made me nervous as hell. I knew how to drive a manual, but I wasn't proficient at that point by any stretch. I ground the gears a few times that first drive, but I've gotten much better acquainted with the car since.