Ruf CTR to Rt12R: Porsche 911 turned up to 11

Before re-engineering 911s, this tiny, family-run business doesn’t so much strip them to the bone as to the marrow.

It’s a marque in its own right, one that is rooted in Alois Ruf and others’ creation, his father having established the company in the small Bavarian town of Pfaffenhausen in 1939.

What began as a general garage had by the 1950s taken on a BMW concession, but it was the arrival of a Porsche 356 in the workshop in 1963 that fired the second-generation Ruf’s imagination.

Scroll forward to 1981, and Ruf made the leap from tuner and restorer to constructor, with the German Federal Vehicle Office certificating his firm’s status as a car manufacturer even though its models conspicuously shared DNA with a somewhat better-known brand.

The Ruf CTR’s twin-turbocharged, 3.3-litre engine is good for 469bhp

In April 1987, Ruf Automobile entered supercar lore after Road & Track set about establishing what was the fastest production car in the world.

The Ruf CTR beat all-comers in the test at Ehra-Lessien, with drivers Phil Hill and Paul Frère repeatedly breaching the 200mph barrier.

The canary yellow demonstrator earned the nickname Yellow Bird and it stuck: CTRs have been referred to in aviary terms ever since.

The car clocked a best overall top speed of 210.6mph, only for Auto Motor und Sport to up it to 212.5mph at Nardo a year later.

It bested the likes of the Ferrari F40 and Porsche 959 along the way, also managing a 0-100mph time of just 7.6 secs.

The Ruf CTR’s window-hugging, Porsche 935-style door mirror

Production cars were based on the 911 Carrera 3.2 rather than the regular turbo variant, due in part to it being marginally lighter and more aerodynamic.

The Group C Turbo Ruf (CTR) boasted aluminium doors, bonnet and engine cover, which saved about 200kg over the donor car.

Physical differences amounted to chunkier glassfibre bumpers front and rear, a pair of intake ducts above the slightly wider rear wheelarches to aid airflow to the intercoolers, shaved rain gutters and groovy 935-style door mirrors.

Engine displacement was teased out to 3366cc (from 3164), while twin turbochargers were added along with a DME fuel-injection set-up similar to that found in the Porsche 962 sports-prototype.

A bespoke five-speed gearbox completed the mechanical makeover.

The Ruf CTR has an Alcantara-clad steering wheel, plus massive side bolsters on the close-fitting Ruf sports seats

Just 29 CTRs were purportedly made by 1990, the practice being halted by the combination of a dwindling supply of bodyshells and tougher emissions regulations.

About 20-30 cars were later supplied by customers for what became an aftermarket conversion.

Which brings us to today and Bruntinghthorpe Proving Ground on a monochrome morning.

Fortunately, ‘our’ 1988 example is finished in the sort of eye-watering hue more redolent of the previous decade.

As such, ‘Kermit’ endears itself in an instant, the Tupperware add-ons complementing the familiar outline rather than detracting from it.

The CTR’s Ruf-badged VDO dials, with a sticker on the speedo warning the driver not to exceed 300kph (186mph)

Inside, it’s much as you remember any 911 from the era, the spindly A-pillars and dashboard layout being unmistakable, even if the figure-hugging seats and VDO-made instruments are pure Ruf.

What’s more, it’s hard not to fall for any car that has a sticker warning you not to exceed 300kph.

Fire it up and the flat-six sounds grumpy, requiring a few blips in order to stop it from stalling. 

It eventually settles to what might euphemistically be described as a thrum. It sounds more competition tool than road car.

The single-turbo Ruf 3.8 BTR isn’t quite as brutal as the CTR

As you cruise around off-boost while waiting for the temperature-gauge needle to rise, there are no histrionics.

The gearchange is perhaps a little unyielding, but you soon acclimatise.

And then you wake the turbos from their slumber and a rather different picture emerges.

There are faster cars than the CTR – some of them are grouped together here – but few batter the senses in quite the same way.

It’s hard to discern which revs in which gear equate to what speed because you’re too busy trying to keep it in a straight line; watching the rev counter and boost gauge becomes somewhat secondary.

The Ruf 3.8 BTR is basically a Porsche 911 (964) turbo in profile, but with bigger spoilers

While it notionally packs 469bhp at 5950rpm, you would swear that it was more. Power is delivered with a kick. And then a head-butt.

Acceleration builds with brutal menace, the pop-off valves chirping for all their worth. It’s utterly surreal and equally addictive.

Fortunately, the 300mm ventilated Brembo brake discs work effectively, but it is an understeerer.

This isn’t a car in which you should slacken your commitment, but it’s hard not to back off a little.

Do so and the nose tucks in, but ease off too quickly and it will rotate in an instant, as an experienced racer in our party discovers later.

The Ruf 3.8 BTR’s tuned flat-six makes 370bhp

Spectacular oversteer is available on boost when exiting a bend.

It isn’t to be recommended, though – the sort of thing you try only the once unless you have poor impulse control.

Then you step aboard the ’94 3.8 BTR, which is something else entirely.

Powered by a 3.8-litre, single-turbo flat-six allied to a six-speed manual ’box, it’s packing 370bhp at 5500rpm, which might lend the impression that it’s a bit on the tame side.

It isn’t. As with the CTR, it is lighter-skinned than the car that bore it, although its aluminium content also includes the wings.

There are revised springs and dampers and 18in lightweight alloy wheels, as well as cross-drilled and vented disc brakes front and rear.

The Ruf 3.8 BTR’s pared-down cabin features lighter seats with slimmer backs than the CTR’s, but they’re just as supportive

Inside, it’s more of the same, with leather-clad Recaros and a speedo that reads to 360kph (that’s 225mph).

It’s comfortable, even if black-on-black is a bit funereal.

Like the CTR, the BTR is utterly docile off-boost, the difference here being that it’s forgiving when pressed hard – all things being relative.

The rev-counter needle snaps around the dial in an instant, the front end rising ever so slightly under load.

The transmission, with its short shift action, has a tiny amount of shunt at low revs but is beautifully precise at speed.

The BTR is a joy to drive and not in the least bit intimidating so long as you concentrate.

The lightweight Ruf 3.8 BTR’s basic door pull helps keep weight down to 1260kg

Yes, it feels a little soft in comparison with its forerunner, but it is hardly alone in that.

The BTR is still blisteringly quick. If the factory bumf is to be believed, it can sprint to 125mph in 12.9 secs and on to a top speed of 198mph.

It’s still pulling hard at 150mph but, tellingly, it doesn’t wander.

It hasn’t been stiffened to the point that there’s no suspension travel, either.

The chassis isn’t overwhelmed, nor does it feel twitchy in the slightest.

Corners of all flavours can be negotiated extremely quickly as long as you don’t lift your right foot suddenly.

The Ruf RCT Evo 2 packs even more power than the 3.8 BTR

The uprated brakes also work well without any hint of fade – regardless of how many times you call upon them to save you at silly speeds.

Such was the popularity of the 964-based car that it has never really gone away.

Ruf will still make you one, as illustrated by the RCT Evo 2 pictured here.

The difference these days, however, is that the base conversion is also available for a variety of bodystyles rather than just the coupé, with convertible and even Speedster models being offered in narrow- and wide-bodied configurations.

‘Our’ car is mechanically much the same as the BTR, the difference being that it packs 425bhp at 5800rpm – and those extra 55 horses certainly make their presence known.

Subtle Ruf badging on the RCT Evo 2’s dials

It feels faster but otherwise it remains benign, even when driving somewhere near your own – if not the car’s – limits.

There’s little in the way of a safety net here – no get-out-of-jail-free electronic doodads to bail you out should you get into trouble – but you would have to do something stupid to get there in the first place.

Just when you think you have Ruf sussed, you get into the CTR-2, which represents another evolutionary leap forward.

Previous models had been relatively unadorned, having little in the way of styling trinkets relative to the donor cars.

By the mid-1990s, however, it was clear that Ruf customers wanted greater differentiation between a stock Porsche and something that cost considerably more.

The Ruf CTR-2 packs the CTR’s thrills into a more approachable car

When this car was built in 1997, it was priced at DM446,200 (c£172,000) against DM278,875 for a ‘cooking’ 183mph 911 GT2.

This Ruf, today, is three times as much as a nice GT2.

Nevertheless, the CTR-2 followed the mantra that form should follow function, despite appearances to the contrary.

For example, the air vents sunk into the sides of the rear valance have a small raised leading edge.

At high speed this creates a partial vacuum, extracting air drawn through the intercoolers.

Then there are the small details such as door mirrors that have the same glass area as standard 993-series items but whose cowlings are noticeably smaller and thus create less drag.

Clever aerodynamic aids help the Porsche 911 (993)-based Ruf CTR-2 to increase airflow through the intercoolers and grip the road better

Perhaps the most obvious change is the substantially larger engine cover, which in effect spans the entire width of the car.

Then there’s the engine, which was based on the twin-plug 3.6-litre 993 unit, but boasting an extra 200cc and running an 8:1 compression ratio, twin KKK turbochargers, TAGtronic engine management and a lot more besides.

Factory figures from the period claimed 520bhp at 5500rpm and 505lb ft at a relatively modest 4800rpm.

The result is a car whose performance is incendiary, as in 0-60mph in 3.6 secs, traction permitting, and capable of an 11-second quarter-mile.

As for the top speed, ‘over 340kph’ was quoted in the promotional literature.

The Ruf CTR-2’s green-leather cabin, with slimmed-down seats and an integral rollcage to stiffen the bodyshell

Once inside, it’s much like any other 993 of the era, although the 400kph speedo is no idle boast. At pottering speeds, it’s not threatening.

The six-speed transmission is a delight, the Ruf-calibrated spring and damper set-up soaks up the worse of the airfield’s many bumps and it will pull from as low as 1000rpm in top at 30mph, with only the slightest caress of the throttle.

When you do dig deep, suddenly you’re much further down the road than you were a second ago – the four-wheel-drive set-up ensures that it just hooks up and bolts.

It’s like the CTR, only without the sense of impending doom.

The Ruf CTR-2’s TAGtronic system helps to push the twin-turbo 3.6-litre motor to 520bhp

Sadly, limited seat time ensures that handling impressions are slender.

It turns in well and corners flat, for the most part, and the brakes – 360mm carbonfibre discs front and rear – are seriously powerful for their vintage.

It’s a car that you would love to spend time with, exploring its capabilities.

Clearly it has many, but it shrinks into the background compared with the Rt12R.

While in essence this is a 997, that is merely a Rizla-thin veneer.

The Ruf Rt12R bolts to 125mph in less than 10 secs

From the deep gaping maw that passes for a front spoiler intake, to the carbonfibre rear aerofoil, this is a bespoke device.

Beneath the skin, Ruf did away with the active damping of the Carrera S and replaced it with its own ‘passive’ arrangement.

It retains MacPherson struts up front and a multi-link rear set-up, but it’s fully adjustable for stiffness – plus the ride height can be raised or lowered by up to 50mm.

This is just a thumbnail sketch of the vast number of modifications involved here, relative to the donor vehicle.

Then there’s the engine, a handbuilt 3824cc flat-six that is only loosely rooted in the Carrera S unit.

The Ruf Rt12R’s huge rear spoiler and large front air dam echo a Porsche Cup racing car

The two KKK turbos are similar to those found on a standard 911 turbo of the period, but boost pressures and revolution speeds are Ruf-specific.

To date, 13 cars have been made, and this is one of only two that aren’t all-wheel drive. 

Given that the base model packs 560bhp, and ours has almost 300 more, that’s a lot to ask of what appear to be spray-painted-on rear tyres.

In theory, this ‘R’ edition is capable of 219mph, but if rumour is anything to go by , it’s a wee bit faster than that.

Once inside, the basic architecture is pure Porsche, as is to be expected, but with the obligatory Ruf logos just about everywhere, stylish green-on-black instruments and alloy pedals.

The Ruf Rt12R’s cabin is largely Porsche, but the seats are more comfortable

Such familiarity does lend a false sense of security. This is nothing like any other 911 we have ever experienced.

Not that we can tell you what it’s like to drive under normal circumstances because we didn’t really try.

The six-speeder shifts with clarity and precision and the low-speed ride is impressively controlled, but this isn’t really the place to drive slowly.

Acceleration in any gear is ballistic. There is a seemingly never-ending wave of turbocharged thrust.

The soundtrack builds with the engine speed, too, a sort of mix tape of induction roar, exhaust howl and road noise.

The Ruf Rt12R’s performance is off the scale against its not-exactly-weedy ancestors, with an alleged 850bhp

It is truly epic. Scroll back to 2012 and a less-powerful variant managed 0-125mph in 9.8 secs. This is faster, and how.

The real issue for those experienced with such cars, but still some way off from being driving gods, is how to extract the best from the Rt12R.

You can’t. It’s better than you. As such, tyre-shredding Earl of Oversteer antics are out.

Limited time spent on what passes for an infield circuit reveals that grip levels are virtually unbreakable under normal conditions.

Even after you think you have pushed the envelope when it comes to front-end adhesion, the Rt12R nails the apex, and then it uses its molten rear-end traction to devastating effect on departing a corner.

The Ruf Rt12R’s five-spoke wheels, with huge disc brakes behind them

Then there are the brakes: 350mm cross-drilled and inner-ventilated discs with four-piston aluminium calipers.

They’re powerful enough to turn your ribs to dust, but with all the feel and progression of steel rotors.

But if push came to shove, it isn’t the car that you would take away. No, that would be the CTR.

It isn’t the best car here. It isn’t even the third-best car here, but it is by far the most exhilarating; the sort of weapon that makes you swear and laugh simultaneously, and exit talking 10 to the dozen.

You ache for its continued company, even if the CTR does scare the bejesus out of you. Maybe even because it does.

That’s all you can ever ask of a supercar, and it is super both relatively and absolutely.

Images: Tony Baker

Thanks to: Jeremy Cottingham

This was first in our June 2017 magazine; all information was correct at the date of original publication

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