Postcard from Rennsport 7

So far as the cars gathered here were concerned, there was not a single important Porsche in the history of the company that was not represented. Some of the most important actual cars too: the very first 356 and the first to enter Le Mans were both in action. I’d never seen the Whittington brothers 935 that won Le Mans in 1979 nor the car driven by Paul Newman that came second. I have now.

I went to see the boys who run the museum cars and was amazed to find them not rushed off their feet, as they perpetually are at Goodwood. When I asked why, it turns out they’re only running two cars here – that original 356 and a 2017-specification 919 Hybrid Le Mans car. Everything else was already here. You could literally name a number: 904, 906, 907, 908, 910, 917, 934, 935, 936, 956, 962 and so on and on and on, and you’d find them here. Examples of the 962 in particular, which was designed to run in IMSA in the US long before it started winning Le Mans, were here literally by the dozen. I could have spent most of my time just checking out the different liveries and still felt the trip well worth it.

Nor do I think I’ve been anywhere and seen more passion for a single brand from the ticket buying public. The merchandise shop was big and always fully staffed but I was told the queue to get in was rarely less than two hours long. And when the old heroes sat behind desks to sign autographs, that queue was longer still.

The atmosphere was completely different to a Goodwood event. On the downside there’s clearly the fact that if you don’t like Porsche, there’s not much point coming. Also the racing, while close, lacks the white knuckle edge you get at the Revival or Members’ Meeting. It is more respectful and, of course, somewhat less exciting as a result. Then again, watching two 935s and a 934 battle for the lead on an increasingly moist track while on slicks is not something I’ll be forgetting in a hurry. Nor watching a pair of Gulf 917s being driven as fast as they could go. Where else I wonder, might you see that?

There are no champagne tents here, no dressing up and very few areas you’re not entitled to visit without the right badge. It’s not better or worse, just another approach. It feels like a single marque club meeting grown to outsize proportions. What is the same is the access the public have to the cars and the respect that is shown. Machines as close to priceless as exist are just parked up under awnings where you can get as close as you like, owners encouraging people to ask questions, keen to share their knowledge of their car’s history. It is quite something to see.

But I think what I enjoyed most was seeing the old Porsche racing community reunited. When you see all those famous faces you forget that it may have been many years since they saw each other, so every time you walk into the hospitality area, you see small clumps of them in closed session, chatting, laughing, catching up like long lost cousins.

How many? Every time I saw one I added their name to a list. So, and in the order in which I encountered them, there was: Jochen Mass, Derek Bell, Mark Webber, Gijs van Lennep, John Fitzpatrick, David Hobbs, Jackie Oliver, Rudi Lins, Hurley Haywood, Vern Schuppan, Norbert Singer, Jacky Ickx, Brian Redman, Joerg Bergmeister, Marc Lieb, Stefan Johansson, George Follmer, Thierry Boutsen, Timo Bernhard, Nick Tandy, Danny Sullivan and Patrick Dempsey. And I’m fairly certain I’ve missed some out. If you’re into Porsches, it must stand as the greatest gathering of your heroes there’s ever been.

And the one thing upon which they were all agreed was that Porsche was the only company with the depth and diversity of road, race and rally machinery to make an event like this possible. Mercedes-Benz is probably closest, but it would still be very different.

As I was leaving someone from Porsche asked me whom I’d been most nervous about talking to. I’d spoken to most of those on the list above and before the event I’d have said Follmer all day long. But actually, it was Norbert Singer, the father of the Porsche 956 and 962 among many, many other achievements including work on the 917 in both sports car and Can-Am form, creating the RSR and 935 and being the architect of the GT1-98 and Dauer Le Mans projects.

I’d met him before, 10 years ago at Weissach when Chris Harris and I spent the day wearing smooth a new set of cut slicks bolted onto the 1987 Le Mans-winning 962C, so I knew him to be a kindly, patient and gently humorous person. But could I bring myself to break into his conversations with others far more deserving of his time than I? I could not. I was utterly star struck in a way I don’t think I’ve been with a driver in 30 years.

Finally I spotted him alone for the first time, so I awkwardly went over and said, ‘Herr Singer, I wonder if you remember me? You were once kind enough to give up a day of your time when I came to Weissach to drive the 962C?’ It was the only card I had to play. He paused, thought a bit, looked embarrassed and said, ‘No I am sorry, I have no memory of that at all. I hope I was of use to you…’

He then talked me through the gestation of the 956 from initial concept to locking out the podium at the 1982 Le Mans just nine months later as if he were telling the story for the very first and not the umpteen hundredth time. A very great man among some very great men at an event whose charm, character and camaraderie I shall remember until the next Rennsport Reunion. Whenever that may be.