The first time I drove a Porsche Cayman was almost 17 years ago, shortly after its debut. It was the S model, powered by a 3.4-litre boxer six that put out 295 horsepower. It could sprint to 100 kilometres an hour in 5.2 seconds on its way to a top speed of 275 km/h. At the time I thought it a sports car “closer to the idea that spawned the 911 more than 40 years ago.” But despite declaring it my favourite ride for 2005, it was obvious Porsche had no intention for the junior model to usurp the icon that was the 911.
The last time I drove a Cayman was a month before the pandemic completely shut things down for the better part of two years. It was a 718 Cayman GTS 4.0. Deciding that the “GTS” name, which carries huge historical significance for Porsche, was deserving of more than a four-cylinder, the engineers borrowed the naturally aspirated 4.0L flat six-cylinder from the Cayman GT4, and slightly detuned it to put out 394 hp.
So equipped, the Cayman GTS 4.0 could motor its way to 100 km/h in 4.5 seconds and top out at 293 km/h. “As the majority of the 20 or so variations of the iconic 911 mature into a more comfortable, heavier sports car,” I opined, “the Cayman will inherit the mantle of Porsche’s sporting ‘purity.’” Still, the company was holding back.
No longer. The new flagship 718 Cayman GT4 RS, says Porsche, is the king of its “compact mid-engine range,” further throwing out words such as “uncompromising,” “agile,” and “incredible.” It is such a step up from the already impressive GT4 that it begs a rather existential question: Is the RS a track car that can be driven on the streets, or a street machine that will have you giggling when exercising its rather prodigious limits on the track?
I’m leaning toward the former. For the not-insignificant sum of $175,200 (to start) the rear-wheel-drive RS is imbued with all manner of 911 GT3 goodies, notably the powerplant, which because of the Cayman’s mid-engine layout that required some reworking of the exhaust plumbing, drops nine horsepower from 502 to a mere 493! Considering the sports car weighs just 1,415 kilograms thanks to the use of carbon-fibre-reinforced plastic for components such as the hood and front fenders, plus lightweight carpets, less insulation, and a rear window made of lightweight glass, the cumulative diet produces a very impressive power-to-weight ratio. Porsche didn’t stop there, either. Lightweight door panels with textile opening loops and nets on the storage compartments helped eliminate “every superfluous gram.”
And looking inside, while the RS’ cabin is decidedly minimalist, it isn’t completely spartan. There are a few niceties such as air conditioning, cruise control, an audio system with eight speakers, navigation and power windows, that sort of thing. Plus, the tester was spec’d out with more than $20,000 worth of what Porsche likes to describe as “individual equipment.” The functional stuff included ceramic composite brakes ($9,130) — a worthwhile upgrade if track hooning is part of the game plan — and the $3,470 front-axle lift system, a necessity if there’s a more than a moderate lip to your driveway. The seat belts in complementary Racing Yellow ($410) with matching door loops ($230), or the $680 sun visors, maybe not so much.
The 4.0-litre naturally aspirated flat-six is a screamer, pinning you back in the deep-bucket sport seats as it spins the tach needle to a 9,000-rpm red line. Get into it with the Launch Control and the GT4 RS will rocket to 100 kilometres an hour in 3.4 seconds, according to Porsche, obviously downplaying the car’s ability as U.S. buff magazines Car and Driver and Motor Trend have both recorded sub-three-second times. (Yes, I know Porsche’s own Taycan Turbo S EV sedan is quicker to 100, but you don’t have to plug in the RS or suffer range anxiety, just endure the ache of paying for 93 or 94 octane at the pumps come fill-up time.)
Just how much extra zoom do you get from the GT4 RS in comparison with the 414-hp GT4? Porsche notes the RS, which has a top speed of 315 km/h, conquered the 20.6-km-long Nürburgring Nordschleife race circuit in 7:04.511 minutes — 23.6 seconds faster than the former top-dog Cayman. Determine for yourself whether that’s worth an extra $53,200.
The sound of the RS at full song is one of pure malevolence, a mix of pain and pleasure — remember the aforementioned lack of insulation and the fact the flat-six is sitting right behind your head. It’s like a hive of pissed-off hornets have taken up residence in your ears. This is just one the compromises of owning such a track-focused sports car (more on this later).
Typical of current RS models, the GT4 RS is fitted with Porsche’s seven-speed PDK dual-clutch transmission. Yes, I hear the howls of outrage from the “save the manuals” purists — I’m a dues-paying member — but I get it, the RS is track-focused and the PDK knocks off shifts at the speed of thought, guaranteeing maximum performance. And not only are there the ubiquitous paddle shifters there that allow drivers to keep their hands on the steering wheel when changing gears manually, there’s the gear lever on the centre console, properly configured for pull-upshift, push-downshift operation. If you simply must pair 500 hp with a stick, bump up to the 911 GT3.
It’s a hard choice, though, deciding which car will do a better job catching the attention of local law enforcement. Certainly, the RS tester’s Racing Yellow paint job works in its favour, especially in conjunction with the massively aggressive fixed rear wing. Fortunately, the young police officer in the unmarked cruiser who pulled up next to me at a stoplight was clearly a fan — he jokingly asked if I wanted to swap rides.
The functional wing and eye-searing paint are not the RS’ only distinctive elements, only the most overt. There are vents on the front wheel arches, aerodynamic underbody panels with flow-around side blades. Oh, and a 30-millimetre-lower ride height compared with the Cayman. In Performance mode, which Porsche cautions is reserved for use on tracks, the GT4 RS generates almost 25 per cent more downforce than the GT4.
Even when not in Performance mode, the car’s grip is phenomenal. The Michelin Pilot Sport Cup 2 rubber (P245/35ZR20 up front, P295/30ZR20 at the back) sticks like flypaper to the tarmac; the adjustable chassis with its RS-specific shock-absorber setup a fine accompaniment. With keenly communicative steering, the car can be flung into corners with abandon. What’s the downside? The car jostles and jumps over anything other than billiard-table-smooth pavement like it’s a carnival ride. If you ran over an ant, you could count the number of legs being squished.
Thus the reality of owning the GT4 RS. You would want it as a companion vehicle, not a daily driver. In addition to the deafening scream of the engine and the uncompromised ride, the wing makes rearward visibility a joke and the lovely deep bucket seats, which hug you like a lover when strafing apexes, are also a literal pain when trying to extricate yourself from the cabin — more so if you have long legs, or are, well, old. Forget a Joe Cool exit, there is literally no dignity to the procedure unless you are a five-foot-tall circus contortionist.
But it is the ultimate Cayman — for now. Consider this: By 2030, Porsche says the proportion of all its new vehicles featuring all-electric drive should be more than 80 per cent. And those catching the 2022 Goodwood Festival of Speed highlights on YouTube will have seen a Cayman GT4 ePerformance “test vehicle,” sporting a 1,000-hp electric motor and all-wheel-drive, rocket up the hill during the event’s Timed Shootout. If the ePerformance showcases the future of Cayman, then the RS might be the last of a dying breed of pure ICE-powered sports cars. Or not. Porsche’s history of continuous improvement is unassailable.
There’s a quote by FW Bradley, printed in the British magazine Autocar, that is particularly appropriate to the RS: “One soon becomes satisfied with the knowledge that the car is one of the fastest on the road, and the greatest pleasure is obtained not in attempting to obtain the maximum from it (that is all but impossible except on a track), but in its wonderful acceleration, its high degree of flexibility, and its remarkable steadiness at all speeds, and particularly when one is negotiating winding hills.”
Here’s the point: Bradley wrote that statement more than 90 years ago as a compliment to the Bugatti Type 43. When it comes to what makes a sports car ionic, some things appear to be timeless.
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