Year
2023
Client
David Piagure
Category
Street Legal - Race
Active Listing Since
05.29.25
The 1979 Porsche 911 SC, part of the G‑series (1978–1983), was introduced as the hard‑working “Super Carrera” — replacing the previous 911 S/Carrera 3.0 and offering a blend of performance, usability, and daily reliability. Built on a fully galvanized steel body, it featured a robust 3.0‑litre naturally aspirated flat‑6 engine with Bosch K‑Jetronic fuel injection, paired to a 5‑speed manual (915) gearbox.
In 1979, US models produced 180 bhp while international variants were rated at 188 bhp, with torque at approximately 175 lb‑ft (238 Nm). The widened Carrera‑style body, power brakes (servo‑assisted), and factory options like whale‑tail spoilers, Bilstein suspension, and 16″ Pirelli‑fitted Alloy wheels enhanced both looks and handling.
"It was parked behind a chain-link fence on the edge of town, half-covered by a tarp that had long given up. Sun-faded, sagging on tired tires, and coated in a thick layer of dust, most people walked past it without a second glance. But not me. I didn’t see a forgotten relic — I saw the shape of a dream buried under time. The body was solid, the VIN checked out, and the title was clean. It didn’t run. Didn’t matter. The shell alone had history. You could feel it when you laid a hand on the hood — this car had stories locked inside, just waiting to be rewritten. So I bought it. Hauled it home with nothing but a vision and a gut feeling. That was the moment everything changed — when potential turned into a plan, and the rebuild began."
Before it ever touched my hands, this 911 already had a reputation. Word was, the guy who owned it ran cross-country blasts with radar jammers, trunk-mounted scanners, and a glovebox full of maps marked in code. He wasn’t driving it — he was flying low, ripping across state lines with a scanner in one ear and the V6 of a state trooper in the other. It had no front plate, blacked-out badges, and just enough stone chips to let you know it didn’t live in a garage. This wasn’t a weekend cruiser — it was a road warrior. And when I finally got my hands on it, I didn’t plan to restore it back to showroom spec. That would’ve been a disservice. No, I leaned into its past — widebody, small block, no apologies. I built it to keep the spirit alive. A car born with outlaw intentions doesn’t ask permission — it just hunts the horizon.
Now, this beast stands ready — a forged machine hungry for its next pilot. It’s no longer just metal and horsepower; it’s a challenge, a legacy, a call to those who dare to own not just a car, but a story in motion. The widebody’s edges catch the light with a warning: this isn’t for the faint-hearted or the casual collector. It demands respect, skill, and passion. Whoever steps up becomes part of the legend, tasked with unleashing its full potential and writing new chapters on asphalt and track alike. The hunt is on. Are you the one?
