Gary Emory (the man behind the annual campout) is synonymous with “Outlaw” Porsches. An (entertaining) excerpt from a bio found on his website:
If there are two poles that define the continuum of Porsche pursuit, one would be labeled Concours and the other Consume.
On the one hand, you have the concours police, vigorously patrolling the Porsche kingdom in Targa cruisers marked “To Preserve and Polish.” This force, invested with sacred edicts from the factory, determines transgressions against originality and metes out appropriate punishment in the form of Black Forest demerits. To these purist custodians, simply driving a Porsche is an unpardonable sin.
At the other extreme, you can find an equally demented group of Porsche perverts who actually believe their cars were built to be driven daily on real roads. This clan remains steadfastly insensitive to the mandates of the concours polizei, instead concerning themselves with pressing issues like tire inflation and shock valving. The driving brigade rates itself on a sliding scale based on nanoseconds of tardiness. Always pressed for time this sect issues Space Saver demerits to the lap-time impaired.
Gary Emory’s friends call him “the Outlaw.” Guess which end of the spectrum you can find him on.