Real Deal
Building a 911 S-T Replica - the clever and resourceful way
Story and photos by Randy Wells
Your search for the car and rare parts slowly becomes an addiction," says Chris Nielsen, a 34-year-old dentist from Seattle. "If you're reading this, you know what I mean and are probably already an addict. Do you get side-tracked by looking at your car when you take the garbage out to the garage? Does your computer always seem to find its way to eBay, Pelican Parts, or Early S Registry when you sit down to check your e-mail? Yep, you too have a problem."
Nielsen speaks from experience, having built this trick, steely blue 911 after countless hours of surfing the World Wide Web and many, many more spent out in his garage. Like many 911 enthusiasts, Nielsen's interest in Porsche's icon was ignited when he was a teenager and saw a 911 for the first time. Back then, in the 1980s, the world seemed to be focused on flamboyant, fiberglass-bodied 911s courtesy of Gemballa and DP. Nielsen's interests didn't fit the mold, however.
Instead, he developed an appreciation for the classic lines of pre-1974 911s long before they took center stage in 911 appreciation. So smitten was Nielsen that it was only a few years before he purchased his first Porsche, an RS-look 1970 911E. The Ecoupe served as his daily driver throughout college and dental school. After Nielsen finished his education, the Ebecame a platform for learning and refining his automotive skills and morphed into a mean-looking 1973 2.8 RSR replica along the way.
Today, Nielsen is a usual suspect on the Pelican Parts and Early 911S Registry websites. He's a card-carrying member of that misunderstood clan of early 911 hot rodders known as the RGruppe, too - an organization he says "is like AA for early 911 owners." In 2003, with his first 911 fully sorted, Nielsen decided he wanted to build up another early 911 hot rod. He started out with visions of a lightweight 911R recreation and began to hunt for a nice, narrow 911 to start with as well as 15x6-inch "Deep Six" Fuchs alloy wheels, a bigger fuel tank, and other hard-to-find early 911 parts. Then he got the call.
A friend in Arizona had found a "rust-free" 1970 911T - a "deal" at only $3,000. Nielsen was soon looking at photos of a car that would form the basis of his conversion. Recalls Nielsen: "It was a pathetic looking car - to say the least. The Light Ivory paint had the texture of a chalkboard. The seats were aftermarket, with stuffing erupting from almost every seam. The dash had severely cracked in the Tucson sun, and it looked as if someone had painted the Fuchs wheels with a brush. The Sportomatic transmission was just icing on the cake."
Keeping in mind the car was a "deal," and - most importantly "rust-free" -Nielsen purchased it, then had it shipped to Seattle. One test drive with the semi-automatic Sportomatic gearbox in place was enough for Nielsen to justify taking a knife to the T. His father, John, pitched in on the deconstruction phase, which went quickly. By the end of the first day, they had a bare shell ready to be stripped of its tired, chalky white paint.
Nielsen was faced with his first critical decision: how to take his Porsche down to bare metal to prepare it for new paint. He feels media blasting and chemical stripping are both viable methods, but notes that both have downsides, too. Chem-stripping is popular, but it can leave liquid or something like it hiding in crevices, waiting to react with new primer and paint. Media blasting- done properly - etches the metal for the primer coat when done properly. Nielsen chose to go with media blasting, but would discover its disadvantage the hard way: "I'll be vacuuming that stuff out for years to come!" Fortunately, he did not have to pay for that privilege, trading the seats that came with the car along with other interior bits for the services.
Despite the trail of left-over media, Nielsen feels the process was essential: "One good thing about blasting is that it exposes all of the little areas you wouldn't be able to get to otherwise. Even on this Arizona native, there were minor areas of rust. Both the lower corners of the windshield and rear-seat buckets needed repairs to restore their structural integrity."
The blasting process wouldn't be the only area of the project where bartering would play a role in Nielsen's ability to build a trick 911 on a budget. The engine and wheels were sold to cover the car's initial purchase price. The rest of the parts Nielsen and his father removed - including the Sportomatic transmission - were sold over several months in order to purchase items required for the project. With a little creative swapping and some elbow grease, the total financial investment at this stage was an impressive zero dollars.
Then Nielsen hit the jackpot. Big time.
"At this stage of the restoration, I stumbled upon another potential deal on eBay," recalls Nielsen. "The last thing I needed was another run-down car, but the one pictured in the eBay ad was interesting." There, on his computer screen, sat a rusty, neglected 1970 911E Targa. The pale yellow Porsche didn't run and had been sitting for two years. It was up for sale with an odd story, says Nielsen: "The car had been donated to a church by the owner for a tax deduction, and the church thought it would have to be parted out or given to a trade school. Fortunately for me, it ended up on eBay instead."
Fortunate, because while ol' yeller was of no particular interest to Nielsen as a car, it had some beguiling parts. Explains Nielsen: "It had really wide fenders, which I would have assumed were fiberglass - but the flares had visible surface rust. The rust ended up being the key selling point for me. The fender flares did not appear to be as wide as Turbo flares, so I started looking at pictures of factory cars with enlarged fenders and found that the 1970 911 S-T came with similarly shaped front and rear flares and bumpers!" But the Targa had even more trick parts.