Tag Archives: Porsche

The Taycan Turbo GT Is Losing Value Like a Regular Taycan—and That’s the Shock

Porsche’s GT badge usually acts like financial armor. Stick those two letters on a car, and history suggests depreciation becomes someone else’s problem—usually the second owner’s. The 911 GT3 RS, for example, barely has time to cool off before its resale value climbs north of MSRP. Motorsport pedigree, limited production, and Stuttgart credibility tend to do that.

So when Porsche unveiled the Taycan Turbo GT, the expectation was simple: electric or not, this was a GT car, and the market would treat it accordingly.

It hasn’t.

Instead of defying gravity, the Taycan Turbo GT appears to be falling at roughly the same rate as the rest of the Taycan lineup—a lineup that has already taken a notable beating on the used market. EVs depreciate faster than internal-combustion cars as a rule, but the Taycan’s drop has been particularly steep, mirroring the experience of its corporate cousin, the Audi e-tron GT.

This week delivered the clearest evidence yet. A near-new Taycan Turbo GT surfaced on Bring a Trailer and sold—or nearly sold—for a jaw-dropping $82,000 less than its original sticker price.

The car was listed by Gaudin Classic, a Porsche dealer in Nevada, and it was about as close to factory-fresh as a used car gets. It had never been privately owned and showed just 141 miles on the odometer. It also wore the full Weissach package, which deletes the rear seats, adds a fixed rear wing, and swaps in additional carbon fiber in the name of lap times and weight savings.

Translation: this was the Taycan Turbo GT in its most extreme, most Porsche-approved form.

The window sticker told the rest of the story. MSRP landed at $238,300, with nearly $10,000 in options piled on top. Highlights included $2,950 Shade Green Metallic paint, $1,380 satin black wheels, and $1,760 Race-Tex–trimmed inner door sills. It was, by any reasonable measure, fully loaded.

And yet, bidding stopped at $167,000.

According to the seller, the auction came close to meeting the reserve, and negotiations with the top bidder may still produce a deal. Whether it sells or not almost doesn’t matter. The message is already loud and clear: that’s a brutal level of depreciation for a car that hasn’t even completed its first meaningful charge cycle.

The irony is that the Taycan Turbo GT is objectively extraordinary. Dual electric motors produce 1,019 horsepower with launch control, briefly spiking to 1,092 hp in two-second bursts. Earlier this year, MotorTrend recorded a 0–60 mph run of 1.89 seconds with one-foot rollout—making it the quickest car the publication has ever tested in its 76-year history. Without rollout, the time stretches to 2.1 seconds, still quicker than a Tesla Model S Plaid, Ferrari SF90 Stradale Assetto Fiorano, and Lucid Air Sapphire.

Those are supercar numbers, full stop.

But numbers don’t always translate to demand. The Taycan Turbo GT’s track-focused mission—and especially the Weissach package—limits its appeal. It seats just two people, fewer than some 911s, and most owners will never take it anywhere near a circuit. For buyers shopping at this price point, emotional connection and long-term value matter just as much as acceleration figures.

And this is where the GT playbook breaks down. Electric or not, the Taycan Turbo GT doesn’t yet enjoy the collector confidence that surrounds Porsche’s combustion GT cars. Battery tech evolves quickly, resale values lag behind expectations, and the market hasn’t decided how to treat ultra-high-performance EVs once the novelty wears off.

For now, the Taycan Turbo GT isn’t appreciating, stabilizing, or even resisting the trend. It’s depreciating—hard—right alongside its lesser siblings.

For first owners, that’s painful. For second owners, though, this might be the most interesting Porsche performance bargain in years.

Source: Bring a Trailer

Driving the Porsche Macan Turbo Electric Along Saxony’s Silberstraße

There are roads that exist to get you somewhere, and roads that make you forget where you’re going. Saxony’s Silberstraße—the historic Silver Route threading through Germany’s Ore Mountains—belongs firmly in the second category. In winter light, with frost still clinging to the forest floor, the tarmac takes on a muted gleam, as if polished by centuries of use. It’s not actually silver, of course. But reflected in the Ice Grey Metallic paint of the Porsche Macan Turbo Electric, it’s close enough to feel intentional.

We’re in the Erzgebirge, a modest mountain range by European standards, straddling the German–Czech border. No towering peaks here, no Alpine drama. Instead, the appeal is quieter: dense spruce forests, medieval towns tucked into valleys, and a sense of history that doesn’t need signposts. More than 800 years ago, silver was discovered here, transforming the region into Europe’s most important mining center by the 16th century. Cities rose, wealth flowed, and Saxony’s cultural DNA was permanently altered. The Silberstraße—now a 140-kilometer scenic route—is the physical trace of that legacy.

The Macan moves through it all with near-total silence. On these narrow, undulating roads, that quiet feels almost reverent. You pass old mine entrances converted into museums and imagine the clang of picks and the creak of ore carts—sounds now replaced by the faint whir of electric motors and the soft crunch of winter grit under Michelin rubber. It’s progress without spectacle, which feels appropriate here.

Starting in Zwickau, an industrial town whose brick factories hint at a manufacturing past, the route quickly dives into forest. Sunlight cuts through bare branches in sharp blades, flashing across the Macan’s flanks. The Turbo Electric’s power delivery is immediate but never abrupt, a reminder that performance doesn’t need noise to announce itself. It just needs grip, balance, and a well-calibrated right pedal.

Schwarzenberg rises out of the trees like a postcard—castle on a hill, steep streets curling below. But this isn’t just a medieval detour. It’s also home to Porsche Werkzeugbau, the brand’s in-house toolmaking operation. For over a century, precision tools have been produced here, including forming equipment for Ferdinand Porsche’s original Volkswagen Beetle. Today, this facility quietly shapes the future of Porsche manufacturing, designing the dies and tools that give modern cars their exacting tolerances. It’s an easy detail to miss, but one that ties the region’s craft tradition directly to Porsche’s obsession with precision.

From there, a short detour takes us to Seiffen, the so-called Toy Village. If there’s an unofficial capital of Christmas, this is it. Wooden nutcrackers stand guard in shop windows, nativity scenes glow under warm lights, and hand-carved figurines crowd every shelf. The town’s woodcraft tradition exists because mining eventually didn’t—when silver ran out, miners turned to timber, transforming survival skills into artistry.

Inside Erzgebirgische Volkskunst Richard Glässer, the air smells of fresh-cut wood. Lathes hum, artisans assemble tiny figures by hand, and centuries-old techniques feel very much alive. Traditional Christmas pyramids—tiered wooden carousels once powered by candle heat—now spin via small electric motors. Outside, the Macan waits, its battery charged, its torque instant. Old craftsmanship, new propulsion. Same idea, different century.

The Silberstraße eventually leads to Freiberg and onward to Dresden, where Baroque architecture—funded by the silver once hauled along this route—frames one of the world’s oldest Christmas markets. The Striezelmarkt is a sensory overload of lights, music, and the unmistakable smell of glühwein and roasted chestnuts. In the center stands a massive wooden pyramid, slowly rotating above the crowd. If there’s a better visual metaphor for tradition in motion, it’s hard to think of one.

The next morning, we point the Macan north toward Leipzig, home to Porsche’s factory and Experience Center. The building’s sharp, geometric architecture feels almost extraterrestrial after days of timber towns and cobblestones. Delivering a hand-carved Christmas gift here feels symbolic—Saxony’s oldest craft meeting its newest expressions of mobility.

Long-distance EV travel, once a planning exercise, fades into the background thanks to Porsche Charging Lounges along the route. At Himmelkron and Estenfeld, 400-kW chargers, clean lounges, and fast turnaround times make recharging feel like a coffee stop, not a compromise. With the Macan capable of jumping from 10 to 80 percent in about 21 minutes, it’s barely enough time to finish an espresso.

As dusk settles over the Erzgebirge, it becomes clear that the Silberstraße isn’t just a themed drive. It’s a living timeline—mining to manufacturing, candles to kilowatts, tradition to technology. In winter, wrapped in lights and history, it feels like driving straight into the cultural heart of Christmas. And doing it in near silence somehow makes it better.

Source: Porsche

Two Cars, One Number: Porsche 911 S/T and the Human Side of Perfection

Porsche doesn’t miss details. It obsesses over them. So when a company that can tell you the weight difference between two paint finishes accidentally duplicates a limited-edition number on one of the most collectible 911s ever made, it’s less a scandal than a reminder: even perfection is assembled by humans.

To celebrate the 60th anniversary of the 911, Porsche built the 911 S/T—arguably the purest modern 911 this side of a motorsports paddock. Production was capped at 1,963 units, a nod to the year the original 911 debuted. Each car carries its individual build number on a badge mounted on the passenger-side dash. Or at least, it’s supposed to.

Somewhere between Zuffenhausen and the far corners of the globe, number 1724 was born twice.

One 911 S/T with that number went to Pedro Solís Klussmann, president of Porsche Club Guatemala. The other landed with Suzan Taher, who pilots her S/T on the opposite side of the planet. Same car. Same badge. Same number. Not exactly the sort of rarity Porsche intended.

The mistake stemmed from the most old-school part of the Sonderwunsch process: manual ordering. According to Karl-Heinz Volz, Director of Porsche Sonderwunsch, that human involvement is both the program’s greatest strength—and its occasional vulnerability. “Mistakes can happen,” Volz said, “The important thing is how you deal with them.” Credit Porsche for not hiding behind bureaucracy.

The irony? Klussmann had chosen 1724 with care. The 17th ties together birthdays shared by his mother, grandmother, and himself; the 24 marks his father’s birthday. Taher’s car, meanwhile, was meant to wear 1742, a number with no emotional backstory at all. Fate, it seems, had a sense of humor.

Porsche’s solution was peak Stuttgart. The company flew both owners to Zuffenhausen for a private, ceremonial mea culpa. There, they received corrected plaques, a framed photograph of their two cars together, and presentation boxes containing samples of their respective interior and exterior materials. The incorrect badge—the physical proof of the mix-up—was formally handed over to the Porsche archive, catalogued as part of company history while the owners looked on. Somewhere, a future brand historian is already smiling.

Beyond their brief numerical overlap, the two 911 S/Ts couldn’t be more different—and that’s the point.

Klussmann’s car wears the Heritage Design package, finished in Shore Blue Metallic, a color that feels lifted from Porsche’s greatest hits album. Inside, Classic Cognac fabric seat centers with black pinstripes deliver a tasteful wink to Porsche’s past, while a carbon-fiber roll cage reminds you this is no museum piece—it’s meant to be driven.

Taher’s S/T goes in the opposite direction, drenched in Paint to Sample Plus Rose Red. If the color feels familiar, it should. Known as “Fraise” in the 1970s, it adorned legends like the Carrera RS 2.7 and the IROC-spec 911 Carrera RSR 3.0. The shade was so compelling in this modern execution that Porsche will officially add it to the Paint to Sample catalog for the 2026 model year. Inside, Guards Red leather covers much of the cabin, turning the S/T into something that’s equal parts time capsule and contemporary statement.

And underneath all that personalization is the real reason the 911 S/T exists.

Developed in Weissach with a singular mission, the S/T is a love letter to lightness and involvement. Power comes from a naturally aspirated 4.0-liter flat-six producing 525 horsepower, paired exclusively with a close-ratio manual transmission. No turbos. No PDK. No distractions. Weight savings are obsessive, the chassis tuned for agility rather than lap-time bragging rights.

The name itself reaches back to Porsche history. In 1969, the 911 S spawned a competition-focused variant internally known as the 911 ST. The modern S/T carries that same philosophy forward: less mass, more feel, and a direct connection between driver and machine that’s increasingly rare in today’s performance-car landscape.

In the end, the duplicated number didn’t cheapen the 911 S/T. If anything, it added another layer to its story. These cars aren’t just collections of carbon fiber and carefully calibrated steering feel—they’re artifacts of a company that still does things by hand, still invites customers into its history, and still believes that owning a Porsche should feel personal.

Even when the numbers don’t quite add up the first time.

Source: Porsche