FlySlot Kremer Porsche CK5 Prototype
Caution: Wet No Paint
By Kurt “El Secundo” Moser
In the early eighties, Porsche’s iron-clad grip in endurance racing would be challenged.
With Group 6 rules going away in favor of the new Group C rules package, effectively shelving
their dominant 936 as a result, new threats from upstarts like French builder Jean Rondeau
stood to put more chinks in the Porsche armor that had been nearly impenetrable in the
previous decade. Porsche’s new 956 design arrived just in time for 1982, but privateers like the
Kremer brothers would have to wait until 1983 to get their greedy little mitts on the new
chassis. In the meantime, for the 1982 season, those clever Kremer brothers bodged together a
stop-gap race car from off-the-shelf parts. A few chunks from the 935, a couple of bits and
bobs from the 917, a chassis based on the 936, and the Kremer Porsche CK5 was born. So if you
were wondering why the CK5 looks a bit like a 936 with a roof on it, that’s only because the CK5
is basically a 936 with a roof on it. We’ll get a closer look at Manfred and Erwin Kremer’s
creation in 1:32 scale.
It seems as if FlySlot wants to keep things simple, and in keeping it simple, they can
build it for less. And what can be more simple than a car that isn’t painted… It’s a new
technique called “make it out of black plastic, and call it carbon fiber or something similar”.
You know it’s black plastic, and I know it’s black plastic, but don’t tell FlySlot – they still think it’s
Kevlar. Since there is no threat of being distracted by a paint job, we can see the modeling
quite clearly, and FlySlot has done a wonderful job modeling the car. They’ve really captured
this era of bulbous-canopied slab-sided doorstops quite well. Not the prettiest cars ever made,
but still very well done. FlySlot also deserves some points for choosing a car that no one has
done previously. How many times have slot car enthusiasts complained about the “me too”
repetitiveness of the manufacturers?
And when you do a car that no one has done before, naturally you put your best foot
forward. Naturally you give it your best paint, well, err, nope. Naturally you give it a well
detailed driver….err….wait, there is no driver, either. So no paint, no driver, maybe we should
check to make sure there’s a motor. Ah, there it is – crisis averted. At least the wheels do look
sharp, even if the rest of the car seems to be missing a little something. Considering that the
original Fly set the new standard in detail, it’s unfortunate to see them moving backwards in
the detail department. If it’s any consolation, other FlySlot CK5s look excellent with their full
paint jobs. But this black one? FlySlot can do much, much better than plain, black plastic.
Resisting the desire to write this car off, let’s push on and see if we can find something
of redeeming value. Could be too much to hope for, but maybe somebody left some spare
change in the glove box. Flipping the CK5 on its roof, and it’s all pretty standard fare
underneath. Three chassis screws (two up front, one in back), FlySlot’s black can motor in an
inline setup, a flat, one-piece chassis, and two little surprises. First, the chassis floats freely,
with just a tiny gap between the chassis and body. Good news for drivers and tuners. Also, the
chassis has two magnet pockets, but the bar magnet isn’t installed behind the motor. Instead,
it’s located half an inch aft of the guide, so apparently Flyslot has taken a step away from the
magnet missiles. Disappointing for some, a breath of fresh air for others.
Inside the car, it’s all plain vanilla – no real innovation, but very little that can go wrong,
either. Nothing exotic, no crazy materials, no fur-lined interiors made from the pelts of baby
harbor seals – just back-to-basics here, which may be a good move for FlySlot. And it will be a
good move, if the car runs properly. So does the ‘tale of the track’ tell a happy or sad story?
With tires as wide as a boxer’s fist, lots of rubber meets the road. On the Carrera track
with only a front-mounted magnet, this car will need all the mechanical grip it can deliver, and
the tires seem to be up to the task. Out of corners, the car launches with plenty of pop. Into
the corners, the tail will let go in a quick and controllable slide, which is easy to gather up in
time for a quick corner exit. The gear mesh isn’t perfect, so there is a bit of a racket with the
CK5 at full song. But from a driver’s perspective, the CK5 delivers a fun driving experience more
like a quick and well-behaved no-mag car. On wood tracks, the handling is tight, with plenty of
grip. On plastic, the magnet placement suddenly makes sense, and the driver in me starts to
win over my inner detail freak.
But the inner detail freak fights back! The inner detail freak notices the poor fit of the
headlight lenses, giving the lenses a bright outline that’s out of place. The effect won’t punch
you in the face on the other fully-painted models, but on the plain black car, it stands out a little
too much for comfort. Fortunately, whenever you feel less cool than the other kids because of
your geeky/uncool lenses, you can take a gander at those deep-dish rear wheels and feel better
about yourself. Visually, it’s a bit of a love-hate relationship, but the fully painted models do
make a much better impression than the prototype model.
At the end of the day, this is a fun-to-drive car that has been let down by its visual
execution, which is both literally and figuratively lackluster. In all fairness to FlySlot, the
conclusion could have been significantly different – all FlySlot had to do was deliver the detail
that made them famous, the detail they’ve put into just about every car they’ve made in the
last ten years. The tepid review is due mostly to the choice of livery, but could have been much
different with an actual race livery. FlySlot has delivered a stealthy diamond in the rough, and
where the rough bits may be too rough for some tastes, the good parts are worth a second
look.