Nine years ago, British coachbuilder Thornley Kelham caused a stir when it arrived at Pebble Beach with a roof-chopped hot rod. The Lancia Aurelia B20GT in question had won its class at Le Mans in 1951 and finished second in the Mille Miglia that same year. Then, midway through its competition career, an angle grinder was taken to the windshield pillars— presumably with aerodynamics in mind—inadvertently creating one of the coolest race cars of the period.
After the freshly restored Lancia’s star turn in Monterey, a stateside collector approached Thornley Kelham about building a replica. The eventual result was the Aurelia “Outlaw,” a series of nine roof-chopped restomods priced at $500,000 each. Thornley Kelham is now applying this outside-the-box thinking to other classic cars, creating what it calls the European Collection.
The first completed project is the European RS, based on the air-cooled Porsche 911. Reworked versions of the Porsche 356 (European SL) and Jaguar XK120 (European GT) are also already deep into development.
Arriving at Thornley Kelham’s headquarters near Cirencester, England, I’m greeted by company cofounder Simon Thornley, who walks me through the bustling workshop. Exotics in various states of undress include a Lamborghini Miura, an Aston Martin DB4 and a one-off vintage Bugatti. “A concours restoration can be fascinating, but also very constraining,” Thornley says. “Our aim with the European Collection is to apply those same standards to modifying classic cars, making them more relevant to 21st century drivers.”
No more than 25 examples of the RS will be made, and the build slots are already being snapped up. “We thought our main demographic would be bored supercar and hypercar drivers—and some of our customers do fit that description,” Thornley says. “But there are also plenty of classic-car enthusiasts who simply want something more comfortable and reliable, which they can drive on a regular basis.”
Like the Aurelia Outlaw, the European RS evolved from a specific customer request. Retired architect Hal Walter had always dreamed of designing his own Porsche 911, and so, when the Covid lockdown put his life on hold, he did just that. The 36-page specification he emailed to Thornley Kelham delved into every detail, from the window winders to the exhaust tips. Some 6,000 hours and 23 versions of that document later, “car zero”—the European RS prototype and Walter’s perfect Porsche—is ready at last.
In essence, what Walter wanted was a “greatest hits” of the Porsche 911 as he saw it: the nuance and feedback of a 1973 Carrera 2.7 RS and visceral thrill of the related 2.8 RSR racer, combined with the poise and performance of a 2010 911 GT3 RS 4.0. It was a brief that even Andreas Preuninger—”godfather of the GT3”—might balk at. So, has Thornley Kelham delivered?
Unlike the majority of reimagined Porsches, including cars from Singer Vehicle Design and Theon Design, the European RS starts life as a classic 911 (i.e. any long-wheelbase model from 1968 to 1989), rather than its 964 successor (built between 1989 and 1994). It comes down to weight, explains Thornley: “The platform can be up to 660 pounds lighter than a 964-based alternative. It weighs just 2,359 pounds with a full tank of fuel.”
This specific car was a 1972 911T bought by Thornley Kelham after it suffered an engine fire. Mercifully, its roof remains unchopped, but with carbon-fiber bumpers, huge rolled-steel fender flares, and a custom ducktail spoiler (designed by Walter with help from an aerodynamicist), it still has the aura of a skunkworks special. Hunkered down on JRZ Motorsport adjustable coilovers and 18-inch Fikse FFR split-rims, it bristles with latent aggression.
The road-racer vibe continues inside, with a sparse yet beautifully finished cabin devoid of air conditioning, electric windows, rear seats, or an audio system. “The infotainment is the engine,” quips Wayne Kelham, the company’s other cofounder, as he drops into the hard-shell Recaro seat beside mine. I twist the dainty key and the air-cooled engine blusters into life, then settles to a throbbing, impatient idle. Trying not to think about the many hours Hal Walter has invested into this labor of love, I slot first gear and edge tentatively out of the workshop.
Three engine options are offered by Thornley Kelham when it comes to the European RS. Walter’s car has the stock setup: a 3.8-liter flat-six based on an enlarged 993 block, then modified with billet aluminum cylinder heads, custom camshafts, forged Mahle pistons, and individual throttle bodies. Driving the rear wheels via a six-speed manual transmission and a Wavetrac limited-slip differential, it develops 385 hp at 7,700 rpm—just short of the 8,000 rpm limiter—along with 290 ft lbs of torque at 6,000 rpm.
Thornley Kelham expects most American customers to choose the brawnier 4.0-liter motor, which should deliver 450 hp and around 330 ft lbs of torque when dyno tested. Alternatively, if you’d prefer what Thornley terms an “old-fashioned screamer,” there’s a 3.6-liter option that serves up 380 hp, 300 ft lbs of torque, and a 10,000 rpm redline. Clearly, there are no wrong choices here.
Modulating the 911’s snappy clutch is tricky, and I almost stall it a couple of times. The cabin is also stiflingly hot in August—an electric air-con system weighing just 31 pounds is optional—and the stiff suspension transmits the road surface in abrupt and unapologetic detail. “We’re working on an adaptive shock-absorber setup from Intrax,” notes Kelham.
From the moment its wheels begin to turn, though, the 911 feels joyously alert and alive. Strapped in tight with a four-point harness, I feel hard-wired into the car, sensing its lightness and delicacy in every action and reaction. The lovely Momo Prototipo steering wheel tingles with feedback, the floor-hinged AP Racing pedals are perfectly placed, and the elongated shift lever, with its Lotus-like exposed linkage, has a notchy, well-oiled action. Demanding your undivided attention, the European RS makes even a modern Porsche 911 seem aloof.
Walter’s car wears track-focused Michelin Pilot Sport Cup 2 tires, so I don’t come close to unsticking it on narrow, hedge-lined lanes. Nonetheless, you can feel the 911’s tenacity and inherent, throttle-adjustable balance even well within its limits. “Hal brought along his 997 GT3 RS 4.0 when we tested the European RS on track,” says Kelham. “They were pretty evenly matched in terms of lap times. Neither one of us could catch the other.”
As for the 3.8-liter engine, it might be the “standard” spec, but not once did I yearn for more performance or mechanical melodrama. It pulls confidently from around 2,000 rpm, then piles on speed with furious glee, the stentorian roar of the throttle bodies wrapping you in a blanket of noise. “That induction sound is completely addictive,” yells Kelham as the revs soar. “It’s like a Tasmanian devil for the road.”
Hal Walter wanted a raw RSR experience and Thornley Kelham has certainly delivered. This isn’t a 911 you’d want to use as a daily driver, but for a track day, a climb into the canyons, or even a quick blast to Cars & Coffee, little can get your endorphins going like a well-honed, air-cooled 911. According to Thornley Kelham’s research, more than half of all the restomods currently available are based on the 911, and driving one makes it clear why these cars maintain such cult status.
A great thing about restomods, of course, is that they can be tailored to your taste. So if you want a softer setup, perhaps with adaptive suspension, steel brakes (rather than carbon-ceramics) air-con, and smartphone-compatible infotainment, Thornley Kelham can oblige. Make no mistake, though, like the official, straight-outta-Stuttgart cars that carry the same suffix, this RS prioritizes speed and excitement above all else.
After a long drive, I stepped out of the European RS feeling hot, thirsty, and slightly overawed. Yet within minutes, I was itching to get behind the wheel and do it all over. For a driver’s car, there can surely be no greater compliment.
Click below for more photos of Thornley Kelham’s European RS Porsche 911 restomod.