Porsche 917K: thunder and lightening

By Mick Walsh

| 29 Aug 2025

Classic & Sports Car – Porsche 917K: thunder and lightening

Few racing cars have such a high phwoar-factor.

The Porsche 917 commands instant respect just sitting silently in the paddock.

Fifteen wins, including the Le Mans double and back-to-back world titles, are part of that instant reverence, but German stylists have a knack of packaging power, too.

When a machine’s purpose is raw competition, that national design trait of rational style gets thrown out the window.

The Elford and Larrousse pairing was a masterstroke; the duo took this Porsche 917K to victory at Sebring

Menacing forms, be it Focke-Wulf 190 fighter, Tiger tank or Mercedes-Benz W125 Grand Prix titan, look proudly dominant before the engines fire up.

Likewise the 917, even camouflaged in sponsorship, has a breathtaking sense of authority.

From its wicked, sleek nose across the rakish, wraparound ’screen to its long, swept tail, every inch of this taut, sexy racer means business.

Lurking in the shade of the pit garages at Willow Springs raceway, this Martini & Rossi-liveried racer looks alarmingly original.

At the end of the 1971 season this chassis, 917.020, was snapped up by millionaire US importer Vasek Polak for DM8000, a fraction of its original price, and, together with Le Mans winner 917.023, it was stashed away in the LA workshops of the Porsche-loving Polish émigré.

As the 20th car of the original 25 homologated 917s completed in 1969, 020 had taken just six starts in its short competition life, including a key win at Sebring in 1971.

After Polak’s death in 1997, 020 was rebuilt by former factory mechanic Gustav Nietsche without spoiling its precious patina; inside the cramped, claustrophobic cockpit, that timewarp originality is hauntingly preserved.

After the glamour of the lightweight bodywork, the workplace looks crude, unfinished and intimidating.

The tubular framework dressed with rough glassfibre matting has an eerie poignancy of old battles, starting with Richard Attwood and Hans Herrmann’s gritty run to third in appallingly wet conditions during the 1970 Brands Hatch 1000km.

The Porsche 917K’s dashboard displays only essential information

Fuseboxes, transistors and relays are exposed for easy access in the footwell, while oil piping snakes from the front-mounted cooler to the powerhouse behind.

An elephant’s trunk-style duct curls back to feed welcome cool air into this hothouse cabin and crude, faded black felt covers the deep dash-top.

Straight behind the chunky, leather-rimmed Monza steering wheel is a compact binnacle housing a bold VDO rev counter surrounded by warning lights for low fuel, worn brake pads, low electrical charge and failing oil pressure.

Instrument distractions – only oil pressure and oil temperature – are minimal from the driving seat of this 240mph Ferrari-slayer: there’s no water gauge because there’s no water.

To the left, switches for wipers, fuel pumps and lights are marked in German on Dymo tape.

Climbing into the tight and steeply raked bucket seat is a tricky challenge, but getting comfortable is more unnerving.

Once over the wide sill and dropped into the buttock-pinching base, you’re then forced into a strange lay-down position.

The pedals are a long stretch deep down ahead of the front-axle line, but well spaced and superbly weighted once found.

Compared with the earlier 908, the long, air-cooled boxer ‘12’ forced the driver forward.

Getting relaxed is a challenge: just supposing your legs and feet survived an impact with only plastic and narrow aluminium tubes for protection, the chances of getting out in a hurry don’t bear thinking about.

Only an escapologist would stand a chance when the door is clipped down.

‘At Spa, Bell shattered the lap record with a 160mph average. During Le Mans testing he reached 246mph down the Mulsanne Straight’

This forces your helmet sideways just to emphasise the already strong sense of claustrophobia.

Immediately you know how Yuri Gagarin must have felt.

Before the 580bhp flat-12 chunters into life my back is already glued to damp Nomex, and the respect for superheroes such as Brian Redman, Jo Siffert and Pedro Rodríguez immediately doubles.

On the plus side, the view ahead is panoramic with no distortion in the dramatic wraparound ’screen.

All that’s visible of the ultra-lightweight body – just 47kg of thin, carbon-reinforced glassfibre – are the silver wing-tops looming up like dolphins’ backs.

Although the roof is low, there’s plenty of elbow room should you feel heroic.

Thankfully, Willow Springs is deserted for my test, because rear vision is non-existent.

The explanation for the lack of mirrors is typically Teutonic: Porsche drivers don’t need to look behind because they must lead races.

By the time this ’71 Sebring winner burbles out on to the isolated, evocative desert circuit, the sun is high and blinding.

At low revs the engine is lumpy and recalcitrant, but the light, progressive clutch makes take-off easier.

First is tall and good for 70mph so plenty of revs are essential for a clean getaway, but once above 4000rpm the engine’s delivery smooths out.

The Porsche 917K’s fan is nylon, while glassfibre is used extensively for ducting of the air-cooled flat-12, unpainted to save weight

From here the punch builds magnificently, with no cammy step in the mid-range, which is a real bonus in wet weather.

Higher in the rev range the cockpit fills with a growling, strident beat underscored by gear thrash and frantic fan whoosh.

With a power-to-weight ratio of 700bhp-plus per ton, acceleration is pretty eyeball-scrunching and nothing prepares you for the estimated 0-100mph in 5.5 secs.

Such dramatic punch is accentuated by the close ratios of the lower gears, but step off the gas before taking top and the charge will flag due to a high ‘Mulsanne’ fifth gear.

As confidence increases, the 917’s hard, unyielding pace gobbles up any straight, and quickly Willow Springs becomes a constantly changing curve.

Frustratingly, the tricky gearchange initially detracts from such awesome performance.

The change pattern of the slender, ball-topped lever mounted to the right and sandwiched between the sill and the seat has first inside and back.

Unlike the positive gate of rival Ferraris, the selector feels crude with a wide, imprecise action.

Even at high speeds the synchros are obstructive, and slotting forward for the dog-leg fifth when really gunning along is a nerve-racking move.

Engine blow-ups were more often down to a mistaken gear, and the cost of shattering one of the flat-12’s top ends doesn’t bear contemplation.

Flat-out at Willow Springs in Stuttgart’s sports-racing sensation

The steering is surprisingly physical, too.

As speeds build, its weighty, direct action takes muscle: even through Willow’s smooth turns it fights your grip, but pounding down the straights it’s super-stable.

Despite the loading up, turn-in is sensational, allowing the 917 to show its impressive balance.

Although the chassis lacks the pin-sharp bite of a modern formula racer, you continually feel what’s happening with clear, early feedback.

For the final laps I push as hard as I dare in this multi-million-dollar ride and never once does it break composure.

As the engine finds deeper strength, the mighty brakes shred speed, always hard and unyielding.

Pre-test nerves and cockpit discomfort are cancelled out by seamless power, unyielding grip and superb balance.

Through Willow’s long, sweeping answer to Parabolica, this legendary car’s poise is spectacular.

Once the 917’s darker side was dialled out early on, it lived for high-speed turns such as this.

Any racing car with such a record had to be on the driver’s side, particularly through a long day and night.

Although a veteran of just six races, chassis 020 was present at many of the 917’s greatest moments and played a key championship role.

In its original blue-and-white scalloped colours, Attwood and Herrmann probably weren’t aware of Rodríguez’s dazzling wet drive after a very public reprimand from John Wyer for dangerous driving under a yellow.

The Porsche 917K has very little in the way of crash protection

A blown engine at Monza and a sixth at Spa ended the 1970 season. The following year 020 was wearing Martini colours in the semi-works Hans-Dieter Dechant team.

Fitted with a 5-litre engine (rather than the original 4.5-litre version), revised wider wheels and a four-speed gearbox, it played a static support role at the Daytona season-opener, but not before Vic Elford had clocked a 133mph practice lap, which would have put him on the front row alongside the Penske Ferrari 512.

Two months later its moment of glory came at Sebring, where Elford was teamed with Gérard Larrousse, but in the first hour it all looked over for 020 when the British ace was nudged off by Hugh Kleinpeter’s Lola T120.

Being a lap down on the leading car fired up the Anglo/French pair and they surged back to fourth.

When leaders Rodríguez and Donohue collided in a controversial incident, 020 moved up to second, but the five-lap gap behind the leading Ferrari 312 of Ickx and Andretti looked impossible.

Enzo’s luck was out when a broken gearbox left Ickx stranded, and, although a surprised Alfa Romeo team was in front while the Martini Porsche pitted, the Autodelta outfit didn’t stand a chance when Elford sensed victory.

Tricky handling due to the earlier accident and an anticipated brake-pad change caused the pit crew race-long concern, but 020 stormed home three laps clear of the Alfa.

Two more races, both without finishes, at Brands Hatch and Monza sealed its six-race life.

It bowed out with Elford’s pole-winning lap, but in the race the Martini team was no match for John Wyer’s rival Gulf Oil-sponsored equipe fitted with extended tails.

Winners Rodríguez and Jackie Oliver appeared to be coasting home, although a fastest tour of 153mph put them in the record books for an all-time best sports-car lap average speed – but only for 13 days until Spa.

‘Even through Willow Springs raceway’s smooth turns it fights your grip, but pounding down the straights it feels super-stable and turn-in shows its impressive balance’

Redman played guinea pig for the 917’s development during 1969, first in practice at Spa and later testing at Le Mans: “The car had very little downforce and at 240mph it was weaving from side to side.

“You just prayed that when the Kink came up you were on the left-hand side of the road. But once we’d sorted the rear bodywork with the short tail – Kurzheck – the car was terrific.

“Tracks such as the Nürburgring, Spa and Le Mans were very fast and incredibly dangerous. I always felt nervous, particularly knowing four cars had broken in half during accidents.

“It was always a great relief to get out of a 917 after a race.”

Derek Bell was lucky to drive them after others had sorted its white-knuckle high-speed instability, alarming chassis flex and nervous handling.

At 29 he tested for the John Wyer team at Goodwood and was smitten by the Porsche rocketship: “I was too immature to worry about its reputation.

“Besides, Brian Redman had gone through all the pains of getting it right. A year earlier would have been a bit terrifying, but things had changed by 1970 and everybody wanted to drive a 917K.

“With 100bhp more than any F1 car I’d ever driven, I remember its staggering power.

“Although my head was always on its side and my knees were up in the dashboard, it was really fantastic to drive.

“Compared with the Ferrari 512S, you had sensitivity all the time. The Ferrari had a very flat feel, almost passive, with little feedback, but with the 917K I immediately felt more confident.

“The instant you turned the wheel, you just knew it was going to get round. Also, its reliability was amazing. Turn the key and that flat-12 would just tick over with no fuss.”

The Porsche 917K’s dashboard is a reminder that this is a handbuilt racer

In practice for the 1970 Spa 1000km Derek shattered the lap record with a 160mph average around the challenging Ardennes circuit, the final occasion the long circuit was used for international competition.

“I think it was the first time anyone really realised that I had any reasonable talent,” he recalls.

Later, co-driver Jo Siffert, frustrated at team orders, ousted Derek from the book of Guinness World Records when he set a remarkable 162mph scorcher in the race.

But during Le Mans testing that year Derek further proved he had ample ‘right stuff’ when Porsche’s racing development chief Helmut Flegl calculated that he had reached 246mph down the Mulsanne Straight.

Little wonder the FIA outlawed these legendary big sports-racers for the following season, but in just two years it had laid its marker as one of the greatest racing cars of all time.

Images: Tony Baker

This was first in our May 2002 magazine; all information was correct at the date of original publication

Factfile

Porsche 917K

Sold/number built 1969-’71/37 (all)
Construction aluminium spaceframe, glass- and foam-reinforced polyester panels
Engine all-alloy, dohc-per-bank 4998cc flat-12, twin-plug electronic ignition and Bosch mechanical fuel injection
Max power 630bhp @ 8300rpm
Max torque 434lb ft @ 6400rpm
Transmission five-speed manual, RWD
Suspension unequal-length wishbones, coil springs, Bilstein gas/oil dampers f/r
Steering rack and pinion
Brakes 12in (305mm) vented discs
Length 13ft 6¼in (4120mm)
Width 6ft 10in (2080mm)
Height 3ft 1in (940mm)
Wheelbase 7ft 6½in (2300mm)
Weight 1762lb (800kg)
Top speed 220mph
Price new DM140,000 (£14,000)