2018 718 Cayman review

As I contort myself to squeeze between the storage shelves lining the outside edge of my garage and the Cayman’s low slung door, I feel a muscle start to pull near my right ribcage. I think of Jim Carrey escaping from the mechanical rhino in Ace Ventura: When Nature Calls. I try to ease my weight down onto the Cayman’s standard seat without letting it all come crashing down on the perforated leather surface, but my awkward footing can’t support a graceful landing.

Now fully inside the primarily black cabin, I notice the welcome animation, a graphic outline of a Cayman, in the right-most instrument cluster dial. I turn the key fob, made to look like a little toy Porsche, clockwise to the second position, pause for a second as the dash lights up, then another quarter-turn to fire it up. The starter churns over in a slightly shrill couple of chuffs, then the boxer engine thrums to life.

I can tell that the subtle mechanical bleating of the flat engine is coming from behind me, but it’s not as overt as I imagined. I always thought there would be this melodious sonnet of mechanical noise constantly reminding me that I was in a mid-engined car. As resting idle falls under 1,000rpm it becomes pretty businesslike in the cabin; the NVH department has done their job well, perhaps too well.

As I putt around the neighborhood warming everything up, I realize I am becoming part of the Cayman. The seating position really makes me feel like I’m nestled deep within the cabin’s confines, whereas in most cars you get the distinct sense you are sitting on top of a heavily upholstered chair that happens to be mounted inside a car. I do not sit in the Cayman, the Cayman receives my human form and cradles it.

Thinking about how weird I am for imagining that I have a symbiotic relationship with a car, I notice the oil temp tick over 190 degrees F. Beginning the ascent of a large hill, I floor it. The transmission quickly executes a few downshifts and the turbo-4 awakens. Or should I say, the vacuum cleaner. Any more than 1/2 throttle and I mostly hear induction noise, rather than the gentle punching of the horizontally-opposed cylinders, and, to me, it sounds like a vacuum cleaner.

Midrange power is probably the strong suit of the base Cayman’s 2.0-liter boxer engine, but it is painfully, undeniably a small displacement, 4-banger. This is when it becomes very clear why people pay $10,000 more for the 2.5-liter, 350hp S model.

I dig into the gas again and get her up to speed so I can test the brakes. I use about 80% pedal pressure. My word. If there is a single attribute of the Cayman that makes it worth the daunting lease payment, it’s the composure under braking. You feel the weight shifting forward under heavy braking, but it’s so controlled, it’s so stable. You never really get that unnerving feeling of a bunch of mass being hurled forward as you do in a front-engined vehicle. I start to see why Porsche is considered to be a step above the other high volume sports car manufacturers. The chassis makes no unwanted movements. Not a single one.

And in some ways the genius of the 718’s chassis in even more apparent at low speeds. The best way I can describe how the Cayman rides over the road surface is that it feels like its being pushed down by the hand of God. And I’m not describing downforce. It’s more like, the weight of God’s hand is allowing the level of communication between the tires and road surface to surpass what is possible based on the laws of physics. Yes, the ones he created.

I’m sure it’s just years and years of R&D put in by Stuttgart’s best. Speaking of which, there is a particular handling trait that Porsche engineers have imbued the 718 with, and I imagine all previous generations of Boxster/Cayman, that I must discuss. It’s the way it handles uneven road surfaces. As soon as you run over some kind of surface irregularity the suspension recovers immediately to a state of balance, which provides confidence to the driver to resume attacking. It always recovers itself into the best possible state to continue pushing.

And I keep pushing because it’s too fun. Precise adjustments in steering angle are always rewarded with corresponding reactions from the Cayman, now equipped with a more direct, quicker ratio steering system derived from the 911 Turbo. All the stressors of daily existence fade away as I temporarily ascend to driving nirvana.

Then I realize that I’m only about halfway to the Cayman’s true cornering limits. I can only imagine what a professional racing driver could do with a base Cayman, even on street tires, on a circuit. I decide I’ll leave the heroic stuff to the pros and I get out of the gas, grabbing the steering wheel-mounted downshift paddle a couple of times as I do. The downshifts are extremely quick to execute, and the two successive throttle blips that accompany them create a proper feeling of pomp inside the cabin.

The idle sounds gruffer after the short joyride, just like an athlete pacing his breath as he begins to get his heart rate up. Oil temp is now at 212 degrees. I make sure to give no more than 1/4 throttle on the way home so the engine isn’t taxed while it inhales that cold, dense, evening air.

I press the Homelink button and put her safely away in the garage for the evening. Performing my human contortion act once again, this time in reverse, I exit the car. I stand in the doorway and listen to the ticking of all the hot metal parts cooling down, admiring the Cayman’s pleasing form. Still engaged by all the metallic pangs, clicks and pops, I stay in the garage a few moments longer, continuing to lovingly glance at the 718.

2018 718 Cayman base
2.0L boxer-4 cylinder
300HP/280LB-FT
PDK 7-speed transmission
Power Steering Plus
20″ Carrera S Wheels