By Tim Harris, Blair Smith & Shinoo Mapleton · July 10, 2026

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Last week Tim was heading to Italy for his interview at Ferrari for the newly-vacated Chief Luce Officer position. This week Tim reports back.

Blair's read on the record: definitely not the carpaccio. And Tim is not alone in the response — nobody around this podcast has warmed up to the Luce yet, so if the interviewers were watching for a reaction, they got one. The investigation remains ongoing.

This week is different from most. We recorded the first-ever in-person episode of Full Throttle Talk — Blair flew down to Southern California for a family vacation, snuck away to pick up his 111 RS from Shinoo's shop, and we set up one mic in Shinoo's den. That plus the Drakan Spider seat time turned into one of the most enthusiastic episodes we've done.

Also this week: Shinoo showed the 996 RR at PCA Orange County, we ran the auction watch on two big BMWs (a $28K M5 and a $75K E46 M3), and we settled in for the long-planned debate — the top three 911s of all time. Let's get into it. 🏁

The Hector listener Q from two weeks back — "what's one car every enthusiast should drive at least once?" — had a clear answer from Shinoo: a lightweight open-wheel single-seater (Ariel Atom, BAC Mono, Caterham, Drakan). Blair had never driven anything in that category. This week he did.

The Drakan Spider is roughly 2,000 pounds with a 430-horsepower LS-based V8 — imagine a Corvette drivetrain bolted to a tubular chassis in an open-wheel body. Blair's first impressions after a lap around the block:

At 6'2", Blair fit — the pedal box was already all the way forward and can move another six inches from stock, which Shinoo will do for the tall guy customer. Steering is heavy. The pedals are floor-hinged (familiar territory if you have old 911 seat time, which Blair does). Blair's summary:

Shinoo's expansion on this got at something bigger. Why don't more collectors buy cars like this? The average enthusiast garage stacks 911s on 911s or Ferraris on McLarens. Cars like the Drakan, the BAC Mono, the Ariel Atom, the Caterham — they're just as valid as garage pieces, and they deliver an experience the mainstream sports car categorically can't. His theory on why they're rarer:

You can buy the same Ferrari in Tokyo, Paris, New York, or LA. You can't buy a Drakan that way. That's part of the point.

The PCA Orange County Concours — 54th annual — happened last Saturday, and Shinoo brought the 996 RR. That car is now Shinoo's daily test-bed for the "controversial build" question: bed-liner front fascia, gold accents, graphic livery, and mismatched wheel widths intentional to the setup. The reactions ran the full spectrum.

The people who got it were the ones who actually push their cars in the canyons. When Shinoo explained the smaller wheels were spec'd for more sidewall compliance on rough pavement, they understood immediately. When he explained the bed-liner front is a hedge against California canyon rocks — the ones that chip up any car following a buddy on sticky tires — they understood that too. The bed-liner is more durable than PPF, roughly comparable in cost, and won't peel like the "swamp creature" Elise (that Florida-imported Lotus with catastrophically-failed PPF that Shinoo showed on Instagram a few months back — still in the shop, now waiting on a new engine).

The people who didn't get it walked past with raised eyebrows and kept going.

Also — four listeners came up to say hi at the show, which was the highlight of the day. Peter, a Lotus guy for twenty years now converted to Porsche, got a shoutout on air.

After the show, Shinoo hauled the 996 RR up Ortega Highway — and discovered mid-run that the road was actually closed. GPS had refused to route through it. Shinoo, being Shinoo, ignored the GPS. What followed was an accidental private circuit that ended abruptly at a cop turning everyone around at the far end. The best part: a Harley cruiser — some kind of bagger, likely modified — was pulling away from him through the corners. Shinoo can normally close on most sport bikes. This cruiser was fractionally faster than the 996 RR could carry through the same canyon.

Which is a line that will come back at the end of this issue.

The next Mazda Miata will most likely be the last with an engine. Mazda Australia's head, in an interview this week, said the NE-generation Miata — arriving roughly 2028 with Mazda's new Skyactiv-Z engine family (2027 CX-5 first) — is "most likely" the last combustion Miata. That framing has been walked back before by Mazda, and legislation keeps shifting under everyone's feet, so we'd take "most likely" as literal. The more interesting story is how long-in-the-tooth the current ND already is — this car has been in production for 11 years at this point and Mazda is milking the tooling investment for good reason. It's still a fundamentally good car. Iterating from ND1 to ND2 to ND3 has been quiet, effective, and inexpensive.

The bigger point: Mazda has stuck to the Miata formula better than any other manufacturer has stuck to any other enthusiast car. Compare a 964 to a 992, same time span, and the size and weight delta is dramatic. Compare an NA Miata to an ND and it's — recognizably the same car. That's not luck. It's a chief engineer in Japan refusing to let U.S. product planning water the car down every time the focus groups ask for "bigger, more luxury, more BS." Weight target on the NE: still under 2,400 lbs. Long may Mazda hold the line.

The Lamborghini Urus hybrid can do 40 miles on EV alone, at up to 87 mph. The Urus is now a 5,500-pound plug-in hybrid — a monstrosity that at least offers a genuine 40-mile EV range without kicking the ICE motor on the moment you touch the throttle (which most PHEVs do). If you live in a city center flirting with ICE-bans, this is a smart way to keep an Urus in the garage.

The new Corvette Stingray with the LS6 engine can hit 200 mph — for $74,000 base. Chevrolet chose National Corvette Day (June 30) — the anniversary of the first Corvette rolling off the line in 1953 — to announce that the new Stingray variant with the LS6 engine (~535 hp, ~520 lb-ft, 6.7 liters) is a legitimate 200-mph car. Base trim only — the Z51 package adds too much downforce and pulls top speed down. For context: a 911 Turbo is a 200+ mph car and it starts at $250,000. The Stingray does it for $74,000 base. This is a smiles-per-dollar figure the rest of the segment cannot match. Corvette continues to make it very hard to dismiss.

Slate has converted about 10,000 of its 180,000 tentative deposits into real pre-orders. The 205-mile range (with the extended-range option cancelled) may be a factor. Shinoo, who was in the aftermarket accessories focus group for Slate, is a bit disappointed but says it's early — worth another month before drawing conclusions.

A Texas startup called Reo has claimed it will build a $21,000 ICE truck. Possibly vaporware. Possibly a real signal that the American new-vehicle affordability gap is finally being noticed. Watch that space.

Two auction results this week put the "old versus new" debate — that's been running through this show for a month — in exactly the terms Blair keeps circling.

The 2013 F10 M5. The last manual M5. ~550 horsepower. Sold with no reserve for $28,000 on Bring a Trailer — roughly $30K with the fee. A new M5 starts at $140,000–$150,000. You are looking at a $110–120K delta.

Shinoo's addendum, unprompted: this is "arguably my favorite M5 of the last 30 years." The styling is fantastic. The powertrain is a wonderful thing. The six-speed manual makes it into a proper enthusiast sedan. As a car, it's amazing. As a daily driver, plan on $5,000–$10,000 a year in maintenance if you're driving it as one. Brakes will cook if you hustle it. Tires will wear. Electronics will fail. Have a mechanic. Have a maintenance reserve.

Blair's math, out loud: a new M5 driven 15,000 miles a year for five years will depreciate roughly $80,000 (from $150K to about $70K). This F10, driven the same way, might depreciate $10K (from $30K to $20K) — leaving you $70,000 to cover maintenance and still come out ahead. That math is real. Whether you should do it depends on whether you like the older car better, which is the only question that actually matters.

A 2006 E46 M3 in Imola Red — the last year of the E46 — with 29,000 miles and a "slicktop" (delete-option factory roof, no sunroof). Sold on Bring a Trailer for $75,000 — call it $80K with the buyer fee. That's real money for a 20-year-old BMW. Sticker on that car new was probably around $55K.

The slicktop matters for two reasons: less weight up high (lower center of gravity), and fewer things to break. BMW enthusiasts pay for both. Combine that with the last-year E46 M3 in Imola Red and 29K miles — this is the perfect-storm example, not the average example. Your average clean E46 M3 is more like $35,000–$40,000. Still real money.

The interesting question this raises: why is the E46 M3 pricing above the equivalent 996 911?

Shinoo's read: three reasons. First, the 996 was the first water-cooled 911 — which was necessary for endurance racing but wounded the car's collector cachet with the traditional Porsche base. Second, the headlights — Porsche changed the most iconic design feature of the car for a generation, and buyers never forgave them. Third, the interior materials dropped a step from the 993 — nicer style, worse plastics.

The E46 by contrast had none of those problems. The step from E36 to E46 got bigger, heavier, and more luxurious, but the interior stayed nice and the engineering stayed pure. And BMW subsequently moved to turbocharged sixes, which means if you want the naturally aspirated inline-six in an M3, the E46 is the endpoint. There isn't a next one.

Blair's counter: comparing a base 996 to an M3 isn't apples-to-apples. The right comparison would be a 996 GT3 to an M3 — and the GT3 has held its value very well. Both true. The base 996 remains what Shinoo calls "the best value in the market" if you want a real 911 experience for real 911 money. And it's still a car that will put a smile on your face through a canyon. Which brings us to the main event.

Top Gear published a Jethro Bovingdon video this week in which he tried to pick the best 911 ever, walking through a collection that included the 1973 RS, 964 RS, 993 RS, 997 GT3 RS 4.0, 991.2 GT2 RS, and the current 911 S/T. It's a beautifully produced piece. Go watch it.

It also prompted the exercise we've been threatening for months. We each picked three. We didn't agree on much. Neither of us claims to have driven every car on our list — some picks are speculative, and we say so. Take these as our current preferences on the day we recorded, subject to revision the moment either of us drives something new.

A modern GT car with a naturally aspirated flat-six dropped into what is essentially a high-end touring shell. Shinoo puts it third precisely because it's modern and computer-controlled — the car is exceptional but the analog charm gets diluted by the electronics. Third place, appreciatively.

The one Blair got to rip through a canyon road on someone else's dime. PDK-only (the one PDK car on his list, which Blair concedes is out of character). One of his favorite automotive sounds ever: a 991.2 GT3 RS PDK firing off upshifts on the way to 9,000 rpm. He didn't get to 9,000 until the very end of the drive, and only after making sure to zing it out once on a good straight. That was enough.

The RS is a purpose-built track weapon that Blair says needs to be driven the way it was designed to be driven. Not a cruiser. Not a canyon toy in the casual sense. When it's in its element, few things touch it. Blair's honorable mention adjacent to this pick: standing at the barrier on the long straight at Utah Motorsports Campus on outer-loop days, listening to naturally aspirated GT3s on PDK fly past and dump downshifts at the braking zone. That sound alone earned the RS the third spot.

Blair owned a 3.2 Carrera once. If and when he buys another 911, he's going back. Jerry Seinfeld has said, on record, that the 80s 911s have a vibe nothing else replicates, and Blair endorses that view without reservation. The Carrera Club Sport is on the wish list if a big check ever comes into play. These cars aren't track weapons. They aren't trying to be. They're pure, honest, mechanical objects — good to look at, fun to drive quickly, endlessly satisfying without demanding trophy-hunter commitment.

Blair's reframe on this whole category: once he had the 111 RS as his purpose-built canyon/track car, he stopped needing a 911 to also be that. The 911 in his life could just be a 911 again. Which is what an 80s 3.2 Carrera is, more purely than anything Porsche has built since.

Shinoo went obscure for #2. The 964 Turbo is his favorite Turbo generation broadly — the styling has aggression, meat, and function that the modern Turbos have engineered away in the pursuit of aerodynamics. Peak Turbo.

But the specific pick is the Flachbau slant nose in the 3.6 S-spec from 1994. That car uses pop-up 928 headlights — unlike earlier slant noses, which used fixed lights. Porsche reportedly had roughly 30 leftover Turbos and did the slant-nose conversion as a factory special edition. Roughly 30 cars. Shinoo has always loved the 928 headlight signature (blame Risky Business, he says) and the slant-nose treatment gives this car a race-car provenance echoing the 935.

Blair, for the record, does not love the slant-nose visual. Deleting the pop-up headlights is deleting a signature 911 element for him — the same reason he understands why 996 buyers rebelled. Reasonable people disagree. That's what makes the exercise work.

A picture of a 1973 Carrera RS has been on Shinoo's office wall since the mid-90s. He brought it back from a trip to Japan, framed it, and it has traveled with him ever since. The reasons are the reasons: styling, purity, history, the fact that Porsche kept adding to the duck-bill spoiler until they hit the exact downforce target they wanted (documented in the Jethro video). Also — Seinfeld's Marble Rye episode. The RS parked on a New York City street for an Easter-egg cameo. Values on these cars are now $2–4 million and rising. The market agrees.

Blair's honest reaction to Shinoo's #1: he'd always assumed the '73 RS was his own personal halo car too — until he actually sat in a long-hood 911 and realized the ergonomics don't fit him. The big steering wheel, the long dash, the seating position — none of it works for a 6'2" driver. Which is Blair being unusually candid about how much physical fit can override every aesthetic preference. The '73 RS remains his platonic 911. He just can't drive one comfortably. That's real, and worth admitting.

Blair's #1 is a specific car. A friend's 997.1 GT3 with the 3.6 M97 motor — which is famously the version with the spooky engine reputation. The engine failed at 29,000 miles, on an on-ramp acceleration run, without a money-shift. When the friend faced a $70K rebuild or a $90K upgrade, he chose the upgrade: bored to 4.0 liters with components lifted from the GT3 RS 4.0 — lightweight flywheel, clutch, various drivetrain bits. Then added a Sharkwerks race exhaust that was too loud (Blair tried to roll the windows up ten minutes in; it did not help).

Blair drove that car. He had first right of refusal on it. He didn't take it, which he says may haunt him — but he ended up with the 111 RS instead, which he now says he uses more and drives faster than he'd have driven the 997 GT3 on canyon roads. Different tool. Both correct decisions.

The reason the 997 GT3 wins:

Blair's summary of what he's landed on: the 997 GT3 is the sweet spot — old enough to still feel like a proper mechanical 911, new enough to have modern precision, and blessed with what most enthusiasts still consider the best modern Porsche flat-six. Shinoo, without hesitation: "That is probably one of the sweetest 911s of our time. You chose a good car."

We should do this again for cars we've actually driven. Speculative rankings are fun. Cars-we-know rankings would be more useful. Note that for a future episode.

Jeremy left a comment on the GT4 gearing episodes that turned into this week's listener Q: "Some people cannot take any criticism about their car. I don't mind — I know people will talk badly about Lamborghinis and McLarens." So Blair's reframing question: are we all too sensitive? Too defensive?

Shinoo's answer opens with the obvious: cars are extensions of us. Criticism of the car reads as criticism of the owner. The move Shinoo argues we all need to make is separating those two things. A car is a thing. It has real strengths and real flaws. Reveling in the strengths of the car you actually have is the endpoint. Everything else is noise.

He then gave the perfect example — from the day before. Hustling the 996 RR through a canyon he was quietly wishing it was a Lotus — sharper turn-in, quicker rotation, more immediate response. Then he hit a series of bumps and remembered: "If I did that in a Lotus, the car would feel like it just fell apart. This 996 is so solid." That's the point. Different cars are different tools. The 996 is not a Lotus. The Lotus is not a 996. Both are correct for what they do.

Blair's addendum, delivered with characteristic bluntness: a lot of buying decisions are made to avoid criticism. A lot of 911 buyers buy 911s because they are the safest, most-respected choice in the segment — nobody will ever bag on you for it. Blair told the story of a friend who owned an ND Miata that he genuinely loved, until his brother-in-law with a 911 Turbo teased him at a family gathering. Miata sold shortly after. Later that year, brother-in-law's 911 Turbo also sold — turns out he couldn't afford it in the first place. Blair's take: given the choice, cost-and-appearances aside, he'd take the Miata. Miatas exist. Miatas are still the answer.

The uncomfortable truth we landed on: once you've driven a lot of different cars, you understand there's no perfect car. Every car has flaws. Every car has strengths. The mature enthusiast enjoys the strengths and stops apologizing for the flaws. The immature one starts drinking the club Kool-Aid until they're pilling on other people for owning the "wrong" round vs. square headlight configuration on the specific 2002 tii year they don't own. That's a real conversation. It's the one Shinoo wrote about in the newsletter this week.

The takeaway: buy the car you love. Drive it. Ignore the noise.

Also — as with the Harley cruiser out-driving the 996 RR through Ortega Highway — there's always going to be somebody in something lesser who's faster than you. Learn to laugh at that. It's part of the hobby.

Monterey Car Week is in August. We're locking in venue and headcount for the Full Throttle Talk community meetup — drinks, dinner, cars, and probably a boutique manufacturer or two showing hardware alongside us. Details firm up shortly. If you'll be in Monterey, hit us up:

Shinoo at @inokinetic_group and Blair at @shifterfeel

Come make Blair feel bad about becoming a boutique-car guy, or come let Shinoo talk you into your first Drakan. Either way.

🎙 Listen to the full episode here: https://youtu.be/KryoiVx1fNs?si=Kx0KTpwjIWA35DsQ

– Tim, Blair & Shinoo

🏁 The Full Throttle Talk Team

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