914 stories Options

[Robarabian]

First of all, the throttle cable stories are hilarious, I thought I was the only one.

1986, my 2.0 liter with dual carbs. Throttle cable broke while I was 30 miles from home. Like Clay and others, I found a way to cobble up a hand throttle by tying a string to the linkage. I put the top in the trunk and hand throttled it home. Hardest part was steering, throttling and shifting with 2 hands. I think I found a sweet spot on the road I was on a tried to keep it in third gear for most of the trip. I remember my had being raw from the string, because I had real strong throttle springs on the carbs.

Story two, same car. Worked on it more than I drove it. I broke a CV joint, and being a 16 year old, you get distracted easily. So I changed out the CV but forgot to tighten all the lug nuts on the Riverias with a "I'll get to that". After my mom called me inside, I went for a test drive... I made it down a really big hill and then heard a "thump." The car bucked and then I saw the Riveria pass me on the road and hit the curb flying 10 feet into the air before it landed in some soft bushes. It could have really hurt someone or broken something expensive, I was lucky. I digress....The car then realized it was off balance and the disc hit the ground before I sharply turned the wheel to the left making a hard turn whereby I was back up on 3 wheels till I stopped and it gently perched itself back onto the left rear disc. I walked up the road, found 4 lug nuts, didnt have a lug wrench but managed to put the wheel on "hand tight" and at 2 mph limped back home and parked it for the rest of the day. I only suffered a small fender crease, a slightly ground rotor and a blow to my mechanical ego.

Oh I can go on...

[ClayPerrine]

I am going to add a story of bad judgement, alcohol, and black rattle can paint.

The statue of limitations has expired, so I feel safe to tell this one.


When Betty and I were dating, my best friend had a 68 Camaro. But he decided he liked Betty's 914, so he started looking for one. He found a 73 2.0L in a field near what was then Carswell Air Force Base in Fort Worth. It was being robbed of parts for the 71 1.7 that was running. He bought it cheap, and brought it back to his house. The Delphi Green metallic paint had suffered from the Texas sun, so it looked OD Green with mange.

I helped him get the 2.0L engine running, and we went everywhere in it One night we were out drinking in far north Dallas. When the bars finally closed, we jumped in the 914 and headed home. We were both too drunk to be driving, but we were also young and stupid.

We were running about 70 mph on Interstate 635 in North Dallas headed home. I was in the passenger seat, watching the front edge of the paint on the front trunk ripple in the wind.

Suddenly, the air got under the paint, and peeled it back in one big sheet. It stayed attached at the rear edge, covering the windshield. Picture two drunks doing 70 mph, screaming about not being able to see.

The rear edge of the paint finally let go, and the sheet of paint flew through the air, impacting the grill of a Kenworth that was following us, exploding on impact. Being drunk, that was the funniest thing we ever saw. So we both started to laugh hysterically. My friend had to pull over because he was laughing too hard to drive.

We finally got going again,and if you know the DFW airport area, Hwy 635 turns south and comes in the north end of DFW airport. We had to pass through there on the way home. We get north of the airport, and that same Kenworth is sitting on the side of the road with steam pouring out of the radiator. That brought on another fit of laughing from both of us.

We finally get back to his house. He lived in the converted garage at his parent's house, and you went up over a hump at the end of the driveway, then down to where the garage doors used to be. There was a brick post between the old door openings. He drove down the driveway and ran directly into the post between the doors.

We both fall out of the car, and he looks at it and says, in a very loud voice for 3AM, "THIS CAR LOOKS LIKE SHIT!". So he goes inside, and comes out with a box of rattle can paint cans. It was a mixed box of various shades of black. Some flat, some semi-gloss, and some gloss. He starts painting the car in the dark. And I start helping. We painted everything, mirrors, glass, lights, windows.... everything except the wheels. We left empty spray paint cans all over the driveway and lawn.

The next afternoon, we got out with razor blade scrapers and paint thinner, and cleaned off the glass, and lights. He continued to drive that car until it dropped a valve seat. That was beyond his ability to fix. So he sold me the car.

This is how it looked:



If you noticed in the video I made, this is the before picture of my car. So that is the pre-history of the 4.0L monster motor car.

[fixer34]

OK, I'll jump in. Part1.
First several cars were all VW's so I learned about air-cooled engines early on. Always wanted a Porsche, particularly a 911. After college, got a good job in Chicago suburbs and was single, so had some spending money. This was late 70's, went looking for for one around 1970 model (I had spending money, but not enough to buy something newer..). Test drove a few, then saw an ad for something called a 914 from a private seller. It was a -6 model. Went to see it, yea OK, and went back to looking at 911's. Stopped at a Porsche dealer out by the airport to look at a '69 911T. Chatting with the used car salesman, told him I had looked at a 914-6 that was about the same price. He flat out told me to go with the 914, it would hold it's value longer. So I went back and bought it. Probably the most honest salesman I ever came across.

[jhynesrockmtn]

I "tripped over" a 1970 914 last summer on FB. The ad was in the wrong section of marketplace but I recognized the dash in a photo. A friend and I went to see it thinking it was probably going to be a rusty POS. It wasn't. I'm no expert but I've been around 914's for a bit and have two others. A very original 1972 1.7 with 80k original miles but needing a bit of "light" rust repair and paint and then refresh the mechanicals. It's been stored in my shop for a few years. I also have a vintage race GT Tribute I'm getting ready for this season. I didn't need another car but couldn't pass this one up. It was so dry. About 125k original miles. All original books/records. The type of original owner that took notes of each service and dealership visit. It ran but not particularly well, barely stopped and it was impossible to find a gear. Only 3k on a rebuild of the 1.7. FI intact. It had just been sitting forever. I dug into a mechanical sorting with brakes, fuel lines, tank coating, new fuel pump, all new shifter bushings, new tires on some Fuchs I had stored, etc. It now runs well, stops, etc. It's been a fun project. Not sure if I'll keep it long term but it has a certain charm.

I work at a small private school part time. The car was parked in front of the building yesterday. At one point I saw a group looking at it and taking pics. Later that afternoon I get the following email. This from the original owners step daughter. Coincidentally I had written him and we have talked about getting together post covid. He sold the car to the gentleman I bought it from about 10 years ago.

Hello Jerry,

This is Jane Doe, Cataldo parent of Suzy and former student Johnny.

I was the crazy person taking pictures of your car after school today!

I was so surprised to see a 914,
and thought it might be my family’s old car!
Turns out, it is my stepdad’s old car, his name is John Doe.

What a small world, I was so excited to see the car and had no idea who it belonged to! Super cool!
I love that you’re driving it and hope you’ve been enjoying it!

Jane Doe

[Ace Le Count]

Love the stories! Let's get some more!

[Robarabian]

Who's car is faster?

1974 2.0 with dual webers or the 1972 Triumph GT 6 rust bucket that I sold my friend since he didnt have a car.

Porsche: That ugly Monza quad tip exhaust, dual weber 40's and overinflated tires. Targa top left off to save weight, but sadly at 16, I didn't factor the extra drag. An angry Armenian at the wheel.

Triumph: Dual Strombergs; enough rust to lighten it by 40 pounds, overinflated 13 inch tires; a proud German pilot.

The Track: a somewhat measured 1/4 mile drag strip in a somewhat residential area of the San Fernando Valley, LA, CA.

The Stakes: A double whopper, fries and vanilla shake.

My cheating advantage: I knew the Triumph well. It was a dog off the line, the 2.0 liter in it needed to get way up in the RPM range. The 914 was torquey and the webers were actually tuned. If I got the jump, I could hold him off.

The Race: As predicted, he blew the start and I had a good car lead on him. I held it through the quarter mile (ish) and as we passed the trap, he was just passing me. I beatt him by a bumper. That crappy little triumph had some longer high gears and if we tried to go to 100 he would have beat me.

The gloating never ended as I refused his attempts to do a re-match...Oh to be 16 again...

[90quattrocoupe]

My Dad lived in Ridgecrest, CA and I would go up to visit him from Long Beach. Going up hwy 395 there is a deep valley between Johannesburg and Ridgecrest. Down one side and up the other. In those days, it was just 2 lanes.
Going home after the weekend, I reached the bottom of the valley, to find a motorhome with 4 guys on Harleys. behind the motorhome, starting up the other side. When we got to the broken double line for passing, the Harleys pulled out to pass and I followed them.
They are going about 1mph more than the motorhome. I figured they were messing with me. They were separate, with 2 on the left side of the lane and 2 on the right. After about an 1/8 of a mile, they had not even gotten up to along side the motorhome.
I took a look at how far they were spread apart, and said I can make that. I dropped a gear and passed them up by going between them.
These were not the Harleys of today. The bikes were more like the ones in Easy Rider. They came after me, but they had to back off, after we hit 90. They had what we used to call Harley high speed wobble. Never saw those guys again.

[fixer34]

Part 2.
The first few years I owned mine, I used it as my daily driver and also for any long trips. Out to visit family in Eastern NY (16 hrs) and work related training in Dallas (16hrs) and later, Atlanta (13hrs). I would leave late afternoon, drive all night, and arrive the next morning. Sometime during the night, I would just pull into a rest area and catch a couple hour cat-nap sitting in the driver seat. My record was 8hrs straight, non-stop.

[Ace Le Count]

Love it

[KELTY360]

This is a long story, so settle in with a comfortable chair and a warm beverage.

It's early January 1982 and I'm driving my '74 2.0 from SoCal home to Seattle after a couple weeks of partying around the Rose Bowl game. In those days I did this every year, but this one was special because my favorite team, the UW Huskies were playing (they won btw, 28-0!). It's smooth sailing through California til I near the foot of the Siskyous and see a sign saying the road is closed ahead due to a snowstorm. Rather than ignoring the sign and pressing ahead through the snow flurries, I get about 10 miles down the road and stop in Yreka for the night. I was going to get a motel room but they were all booked by Husky fans heading home. So, I sleep in the 914, across the seats, wrapped around the shifter...long, cold, lumpy night. It actually seemed even longer because the foot of snow covering the windows kept all light from penentrating the cabin. I finally push the door open, clear off the windows and head off in search of the chains I'll need to get over the pass. That means backtracking 50 miles to Weed, where I discover that my Pirelli P6s are too close to the fender lip to allow any chains to fit.

Luckily, an old friend lived in Weed and offered a place on his couch til the pass reopened. A week goes by and I'm way overdue at work so I figured I'd give it a try. 80 miles later I'm at the last exit in CA and the Highway Patrol has the road blocked and won't let me proceed without chains. Now I backtrack about 120 miles down I-5, past Weed, to Redding. I decide to head to the Coast, even though I'm told the road is closed in Weaverville. No sweat, I evade the CHP roadblock by slippping and sliding on the side streets of Weavererville til I can make my break for the last snowy pass before the ocean. Porsche may have promoted the 'Ski 914' but the steep, icy climb wasn't nearly as fun as the ads made it seem. Creeping down the other side got progressively easier and the thought that I might get blocked by a rockslide never crossed my mind....but it should have. After an hour or so watching bulldozers and loaders clearing rubble, I was on my way again.

Finally free of obstacles, I blasted through Eureka and Crescent City and then angled back towards I-5 along the Russian River. I finally collapsed on a motel bed in Grant's Pass at about 1:00 am after 17 hours and 350 miles for what should have been about a hundred mile drive. Through it all, the 914 handled adversity right at the edge of potential disaster with grit and tenacity...made me proud.

[FlacaProductions]

Great story except I’m an Iowa fan....

[KELTY360]

Great story except I’m an Iowa fan....

I didn’t even mention the ‘I’ word but I’m grateful you brought it up. Wasn’t as close as the score would indicate. (IMG:style_emoticons/default/poke.gif)

(IMG:style_emoticons/default/biggrin.gif) (IMG:style_emoticons/default/piratenanner.gif)

[fixer34]

Part 3 (last one)
Had the -6 a couple years and started dating this young lady in the spring. Summer came and I asked her if she wanted to go with me to visit my family on one of the afore mentioned trips to Eastern NY. Same plan, leave late afternoon, drive all night stopping only for an hour or so, and arrive next morning. We stayed a week, and during that time also drove over to Boston and up the East coast. Lots of seat time in the 914 and no complaints from her. I was thinking she might be 'the one' and this pretty much sealed the deal. The day we were planning to head back, I proposed. (we had been dating all of 10 weeks...). She said Yes, (maybe wondering how she would get home otherwise..) and we drove all night talking about our future. We got married the following year on the anniversary of our first date.
She knew how to drive a stick and is the only one who has ever driven the car alone since I've owned it.
In a couple months, it will be 40 years ago; I still have both the lady and the car.

[90quattrocoupe]

Part 3 (last one)
Had the -6 a couple years and started dating this young lady in the spring. Summer came and I asked her if she wanted to go with me to visit my family on one of the afore mentioned trips to Eastern NY. Same plan, leave late afternoon, drive all night stopping only for an hour or so, and arrive next morning. We stayed a week, and during that time also drove over to Boston and up the East coast. Lots of seat time in the 914 and no complaints from her. I was thinking she might be 'the one' and this pretty much sealed the deal. The day we were planning to head back, I proposed. (we had been dating all of 10 weeks...). She said Yes, (maybe wondering how she would get home otherwise..) and we drove all night talking about our future. We got married the following year on the anniversary of our first date.
She knew how to drive a stick and is the only one who has ever driven the car alone since I've owned it.
In a couple months, it will be 40 years ago; I still have both the lady and the car.

Nice.

[Jmkorfha]

May 14, 1983. My wife and I got married in Austin, Mn.
After the reception my dad took us to my 1973 orange 914. We had cleverly hidden the car a couple miles from the church in an old ladies garage so no-one would mess with it.
Around 11:00 pm we take off for the Ambassador motel at the corner of 12 and 100 in the twin cities, about 100 miles away.
My wife was in her wedding dress and I was in my white tux. So I put the pedal to the floor, thinking I could talk myself out of a ticket.
We went around the curving onramp from 218 to I-35 at 95 mph.
Reached the hotel in about 1 hour and 20 minutes.
We spent the next couple days with my wife push starting the car everywhere we went (stupid ground strap).
I was 20, my wife 18.
Married for 37 + years and have 15 grandchildren.

[crtupper]

50 years ago this month I bought my first 914 with appearance group. Tangerine with tan interior (VIN 4702913275). I drove it for 10 years and sold it in 1981. It was a "left-over" and built towards the end of the 70 model year. I had worked at the dealership all through high school and was in the Air Force as an E-2. I was home on a long weekend for my birthday and saw the car on the showroom floor on a Sunday. I called the dealership owner at home and said, "I want the tangerine 914 that's on the floor" and Mr Kaye said, "consider it sold". I came home again the following weekend (stationed 6 hrs from home) and picked it up. It had its quirks, but it got me through 4 years of enlisted USAF, 18 months back at the VW-Porsche-Audi dealership, to college and back to the USAF again where it finally became too "brittle" to trust and I got a Jetta Mk1 2 door sedan. I've checked around ... the VIN seems to be "gone" I think the metal moths got it (rust from salt on New Hampshire winter roads).

[Ace Le Count]

These are awesome!

[AZBanks]

Another long one.

In 1986 I bought my first 1971 914 two weeks after I turned 18. I don't know the exact color. Looked like Guards Red to me, 916 front bumper, lowered, 205/60 Fulda tires, VW bus engine( (IMG:style_emoticons/default/barf.gif) )good for 45-50 around this cloverleaf marked for 15. (IMG:style_emoticons/default/driving.gif)
The perfect car for an 18 year old kid with no tools, no mechanical knowledge, no mechanic friends, and almost no money.

A couple months later I start dating this young lady.
One afternoon, her friend drops her off at my house. It was the first time she was there and the first time she met my mom. My mom swears to this day that the young lady was wearing black that day(she wasn't).
We hang out until it starts to get late and I need to take her home. She lives way out in the boonies. I am doing 45-50mph down this two lane road when I see the sign showing a left curve marked 15 MPH. I no sooner see the sign when the road changes from pavement to dirt and the curve is RIGHT THERE!!!! (IMG:style_emoticons/default/yikes.gif)

There is a 2 -3 foot dirt embankment on the outside of the curve and We slide sideways over that and down a 15 foot embankment on the other side. We slide to a stop still right side up and the engine dies. I get out and look around and check out the car as much as I can with no lights on a dark night in the middle of the desert. The young lady tells me that we are about 4 miles from her house. I think we will be walking when she asks, "Will it start". That is a damn fine question and one I hadn't even considered. I get in and it fires right up. We are on flat ground with just some small bushes in front of us so I start driving forward. The road is on my left and it slopes down toward the level we are on and very soon we are level with the road...

Except there is still that 2-3 foot dirt berm which is now the last barrier between me and the road. A little bit of speed and I should be able to get back over it easy-peasy...

right???

WRONG!

I high centered the 914 on the berm like a champ. (IMG:style_emoticons/default/hissyfit.gif)

On the bright side we were now just 3.9ish miles to her house not 4. (IMG:style_emoticons/default/headbang.gif)

The young lady and I take a nice stroll along this dirt road in the middle of the desert with the coyotes howling all around us. We get to her house A LOT later than her father would have liked. After avoiding getting eaten by wild animals and killed by an angry father, he lets us take his truck, her brother, some rope and a shovel to get the car off the berm. It is possible her brother disobeyed orders to strangle me with the rope and bury my body (IMG:style_emoticons/default/hanged.gif) but after a lot of shoveling intermixed with the rope breaking multiple times, we got the car free. She went home with her brother and I got the heck out of the boonies before the banjos could start.

The young lady and I were together for a couple more weeks but every time we did something it turned into a disaster. She was a nice enough girl but it was like she was walking around under a black cloud. I guess my mom was right after all.

The car was a little scraped up along the passenger side door but still ran until an aftermarket pulley in front of the fan decided to part ways with the rest of the engine in spectacular fashion. I decided to pull the engine to fix some things and that is how it sat until I sold it a few years later. I wish I still had it.

[Ace Le Count]

I Love it! Let's get some more stories!

[Ace Le Count]

Does anyone else have a Porsche story to share?