By Tim Harris, Blair Smith & Shinoo Mapleton · May 14, 2026

🎧 You can also stream us on Apple Podcasts!

Tim Harris is still in Puerto Rico. He is still not on the show. The dispatches keep getting better.

Last week he was sourcing chrome wheels and curb feelers for the ZR1X with Bad Bunny. This week he's at the med spa with Ricky Martin, developing a Puerto Rico–Formula 1–Reggaetón line dance — which, as Blair put it on the show, is the latest evidence that Tim is "really living it up."

The note:

Heel-and-toe technique. Right foot needs more twist. After three episodes of this show running deep on manual transmission talk, downshift technique, and the difficulty of actually nailing a heel-toe, Tim is now using the exact same language to describe line dance choreography. We'll let listeners draw their own conclusions.

Meanwhile, back at the show, Blair and Shinoo turned in a packed episode: a small mountain drive with a 964 RS, a Lotus Emira, and a 111 RS Elise; an Everyday Driver video shoot; two pieces of Nürburgring news; major engine news out of a Renault–Geely–Saudi Aramco joint venture; Formula 1 announcing the return of V8s; a thoughtful conversation about when it's time to sell a car you love; and a deeply useful breakdown of what it actually costs to track a C8 Corvette.

Settle in.

Shinoo's week, three:

Blair's week, two:

Blair's Sunday-morning mountain drive was a three-car comparison: his own 111 RS Elise, a friend's new Lotus Emira, and another friend's 964 RS in Ruby Stone (one of the two factory colors, the other being Maritime Blue). The 964 RS in question has been bored out to a 3.8.

Blair's verdict on the 964 RS: top three driving experiences he's ever had.

A few things explain why. The 964 RS uses a stiff seam-welded chassis, and the rawness of that — the way the car feels eager and willing without being polished — reminded him immediately of the 111 RS Elise. These are cars from completely different worlds that share a similar DNA when you actually drive them hard.

What got more interesting was the head-to-head. Bored to 3.8L, the 964 RS actually makes a touch more torque than the 111 RS. Racing side by side, Blair was only able to pull on his friend because the Elise revs to 8,200 RPM and the 964 doesn't. These are fast cars. Genuinely quick, beautiful to look at, and they make the right flat-six noises.

The wrinkle, and it's a good one: once Blair has spent serious time with the steering in the 111 RS — which he describes as having near-perfect response, tactility, and weight thanks to the build Shinoo put together — getting back into the 964, even a 964 RS, made the Porsche steering feel "like a school bus" by comparison.

Blair's broader take: the 964 sits in a fascinating spot in the air-cooled 911 lineage. It's not as raw and old-feeling as a 3.2 Carrera or an SC, and it's not as refined as a 993 or anything that came after. It's the in-between car. For Blair, the 3.2 Carrera is still slightly preferable — he leans older in 911 land — but he could be talked into 964 as the sweet spot of the whole air-cooled lineage by anyone willing to argue it.

Shinoo's counter: Blair's read on the 964 is biased because he drove an actual RS. The real RS never officially came to the US — what we got was the RS America, which Shinoo characterizes as "more of a sticker kit than a real RS." Strip the RS off the conversation and the standard 964 C2 felt, to him, vanilla — which is why when he was cross-shopping a 964 against a 993 in the mid-'90s, he ended up choosing the 993 and daily-drove it in Charlotte.

A lot of the standard 964's current "sheen" — and the prices that come with it — Shinoo attributes to Singer and the broader restomod world quietly hoovering up the used inventory and driving values up across the board.

For context on how he got to that opinion: Shinoo's very first 911 experience was actually a 964 Cup car at a BMW CCA track day at Brainerd International in Minnesota. His instructor, who worked for Porsche's ad agency in Minneapolis at the time, had ended up with one when Porsche's stillborn early-'90s North American spec series didn't get off the ground. Brainerd has a one-mile front straight. Shinoo remembers the sound coming from behind him when the instructor got on the throttle, and he remembers thinking,

(He has since bought several.)

The "this or that" segment built on top of all that. The setup: a standard 964 C2 trades around $130,000 right now. What would each host buy for similar money in the same general era — late '80s to early 2000s, road car not a track car, the kind of thing you'd take on date night?

Shinoo's pick: a Ferrari 308 GT4 — the Bertone-designed wedge variant of the 308 (rather than the more famous Pininfarina-designed 308 GTB), trading roughly in the $70–90K range. Shinoo's logic: if the standard 964 is going to feel like a GT cruiser anyway, why not pick the GT cruiser with the more controversial, more stylish, more cinematically interesting design?

Blair backed the choice from a different angle. He cited automotive journalist Jason Kamisa's well-known love of the 308 GT4 as evidence there's "really something to this," noting that he respects Kamisa even when he disagrees with his takes.

Blair's pick: an NA1 Acura NSX — a recent Bring a Trailer sale of a clean white example traded around $105K, with a mid-generation specification (fixed headlights, six-speed). The shifter feel, the 90s Honda interior, and the experience of driving one all resonate with Blair. The catch: the gearing is famously, comically long. So Blair's recommendation, if he were buying one, is to budget another $15K for the Honda NSX Type R gearset out of Japan/Europe.

Shinoo's counter on the NSX: he cross-shopped one back when he was looking for a 911 and the experience left him cold. The interior felt too Honda Accord — the welcome chime when the key goes in, the switchgear, the general atmosphere. Great car, deep admiration for what Honda pulled off, but not enough soul-per-mile for him to commit.

The blind taste test: between the 308 GT4, the NSX, and the standard 964 C2, which one are they actually buying?

Both agreed they'd take the 308 GT4. The styling alone makes the call. The 964 is probably the more refined and better-built option, but the experience and the romance of the Ferrari wins in the moment.

The wrinkle Blair added: if you locked any of these three in his garage for 10 years with no option to sell, he'd take the 964 — and hot-rod it.

The Czinger — that's C-Z-I-N-G-E-R, not Singer — has been spotted preparing to run the Nürburgring. The 3D-printed hypercar has been setting impressive times at tracks across North America, and a 'Ring time is reportedly imminent.

Two questions hanging over the run, both raised on the show: will the time count in the production class or the prototype class? And is the press car they'd run the same car you can technically buy for somewhere in the $2–3 million range?

Bonus fact, sourced directly: Czinger and Singer are physically housed in the same large industrial building near Long Beach. A wall, different entrances, and different security clearances separate them. Shinoo got a tour of the Czinger facility courtesy of a former employee — Joe — who now works on Czinger's 3D printing side. (Czinger's primary business is 3D printing for aerospace and automotive; the hypercar is the halo, not the main revenue line.) Mid-tour, Joe pointed Shinoo at a suspension upright sitting in the shop and noted that he couldn't say which manufacturer it was for — but the logo on the part would tell Shinoo everything he needed to know. Confirmed: a "very high-end, very well-known, very exclusive, very historic" auto manufacturer is using Czinger to manufacture uprights for an upcoming hypercar.

Shinoo declined to name names. Blair tried. Shinoo held the line.

Forced to choose where he'd work — Czinger or Singer — Shinoo took Singer. The 3D printing world is impressive and important, but his interest sits squarely on the car side of things. And he expects Singer to make some big announcements this summer, when they appear as the featured marque at Goodwood.

Volkswagen, of all manufacturers in the year 2026, decided to care about something. The Golf GTI 50 anniversary edition has just set the front-wheel-drive Nürburgring record, supplanting either the Honda Civic Type R or the Renault Mégane Trophy R — Blair wasn't quite sure which one held it last.

What's interesting isn't the lap time. It's that Volkswagen, a brand that has felt for years like it had checked out of the performance conversation, suddenly cared enough to engineer a halo hot-hatch and take it to the 'Ring.

Blair's read: this is a setup. The GTI EV is being unveiled in the next few months, and a fresh FWD record on the gasoline GTI is the kind of news that gives the upcoming electric version some inherited shine. Speaking of EVs — the Porsche Taycan GT also set the fastest production-EV time on the 'Ring this period, in case anyone missed it.

This one didn't get much US press, and Shinoo is genuinely surprised to be the first one connecting the dots.

The headline: a joint venture called Horse Powertrain — a partnership between Renault (French) and Geely (Chinese), with funding and support from Saudi Aramco — is developing a new performance internal combustion engine. The spec: a 3.0L twin-turbo V6, hybrid-capable architecture, over 500 horsepower, 8,000 RPM, and — critically — a modular design that scales up to a V8.

Horse Powertrain had a booth at the Beijing Auto Show. The engine is real, public, and being shown to OEM partners.

Why this matters: Geely owns Lotus. The rumor mill out of England has been quietly active for a few months suggesting Lotus is preparing a powertrain announcement, with V6 and V8 hybrid options sourced from somewhere new. Shinoo's been pulling threads on this one, and Horse Powertrain looks like the source.

The other engine story of the week, and arguably the bigger one for enthusiasts: Formula 1 has officially announced a return to V8 power units.

The hosts' read: F1 spent the last decade-plus chasing efficiency. They got there — and accidentally dialed out the emotion in the process. Drivers can't push flat-out consistently anymore. The product on race day became too dependent on battery management and energy saving.

Max Verstappen has been the loudest critical voice on this for a while now, and Blair speculates the V8 announcement is at least partly a response to that pressure.

Blair attended the Las Vegas Grand Prix last November. By his account, the most exhilarating part of the experience was just hearing a Formula 1 car go past the finish line — and he paid a lot of money for what amounted to a brief auditory snippet. His take: maybe let the road cars save the planet, and let race cars feel, sound, and act like race cars again. It looks like F1 might be coming around to that view.

This week's thematic segment is one a lot of listeners have asked about. Both hosts have sold cars they genuinely loved. Here's how they think about it.

Shinoo's answer is structural. Most of his sales have been driven by space constraints or by needing the cash for the next build. The most recent example: his 1974 Alfa Romeo GTV — a car he genuinely loved, beautiful to look at, fun to drive, but high-maintenance enough that if he didn't drive it for a week he'd have to open the carbs and prime them with fuel. When Lotus introduced the Evora and Shinoo wanted one, the GTV got sold to fund it. He came out slightly ahead on the sale, which turned out to be lucky — the GTV market took off shortly afterward.

His broader pattern is that cars cycle through his shop and his life constantly: BAC Mono, Ariel Atom 2, Ariel Atom 3, Spec Race Atom, Drakan, Elises, Exiges, Evoras. Most of the time the trade is for the next project. For Shinoo, the decision tends to be resource-driven more than emotional.

Blair's answer is emotional. He buys cars without intending for them to be short-lived — but most of his fun cars cycle out around the 18-month mark. The exception was his 1985 3.2 Carrera, which he held onto for three years and was deeply conflicted about selling.

His framework, for anyone in the same spot: when you start getting the wandering eye — when you're looking at other cars and thinking, "Maybe I should try that" — try to put the thought out of your mind for a week. If it keeps coming back, even when you still love the car you have, that's the signal. You're already emotionally detaching. They're just cars.

His other line, which Shinoo enjoyed: Blair has been accused of loving the hunt more than the kill. He doesn't entirely disagree.

The hedge against regret, for both of them: the experience of driving the car is what stays with you. The memories of specific drives — specific roads, specific mornings — outlast the ownership. Blair started documenting his cars on Instagram (sometimes through his Meta glasses or a head-mounted GoPro) so he can scroll back later and remember the drives — not, in his words, to influence anybody.

If you've ever struggled with whether to sell, that's the most honest framework either of them has offered.

John L. wrote in asking about the real running costs of tracking a C8 Corvette versus other sports cars. Shinoo did some homework — talked to several owners and tracked down some real numbers. The breakdown:

Brakes (C8 Corvette). Stock rotors and pads last about four track days. Switch to aftermarket and you roughly double that — about eight track days. For comparison: the 111 RS Elise on Ultra Discs gets fifty.

Tires (C8 Corvette). About six track days per set. One owner reportedly paid $1,700 just for the rears, running slightly wider rubber than stock. Front-and-rear combined gets expensive fast.

Against a 718 Cayman GT4. Tire life is very similar, with the GT4 being fractionally better. So if you're cross-shopping consumables between a C8 and a GT4, the difference is real but not dramatic.

Against a 911 GT3. Different story. A GT3 weighs roughly 3,200 lb. A C8 with the Z51 package, which is the Corvette spec closest to GT3-level performance, weighs around 3,600 lb. That 400 lb of extra mass shows up in the consumables column. The GT3 stretches the same tires to 6–10 track days versus the C8's 5–7. Carbon-ceramic brakes, when fitted, last dramatically longer than stock steel on either car.

For standard C8 Stingrays specifically: the stock brakes are not going to hold up to serious track use. The owners Shinoo talked to who track Stingrays seriously have all upgraded to AP Racing brake kits, and reportedly haven't looked back.

The summary line, which Shinoo borrowed and Blair endorsed: speed costs money. How fast do you want to go? Blair's add: there's a reason Miatas are so prevalent on track.

🎙 Listen to the full episode here: https://youtu.be/WKt-RxCHSYk?si=qEOa-iTHM1m0zarQ

– Tim, Blair & Shinoo

🏁 The Full Throttle Talk Team
Buckle up. Hit the gas. Let's go full throttle.

Got thoughts on today’s topic? We’d love to hear them. Just hit reply or share your take with fellow gearheads inside our private Facebook group.

📩 Don’t keep Full Throttle Talk a secret—share it with a friend, family member, or colleague. Let’s spread the fun!

💬 Want your question featured on the next show? DM us on Instagram or reply to this newsletter.

🧠 Got an article or market take? Send it in—we’ll feature our favorites in an upcoming issue.