Soul Objects: More Than Just a Porsche Garage

For this owner, the garage came first.

Not in theory. Literally.

After moving into the house four years ago, the very first project was transforming the garage into something more than storage. The previous home had a tiny one-car setup that mostly functioned as a motorcycle restoration den. This time, the vision was different.

The goal was to create a garage that felt like an extension of the house itself. A place for projects, hangouts, family time, and late nights around old machines.

That idea started long before the house.

Jon has been into motorcycles since childhood, when his parents bought him a 1977 Honda XL75 that he still owns today. The bike still wears its original Looney Tunes sticker and is waiting for a proper restoration someday.

Vintage cars came later. The garage mindset didn’t.

Today, the space houses a 1977 Porsche 911S Targa, vintage BMW airhead projects, old dirt bikes from time to time, a Harley Heritage, and a Triumph Scrambler. But more importantly, it feels lived in and has character, similar to other Porsche garages designed to balance form and function.

The door between the garage and house is almost always open. The garage was intentionally designed to feel welcoming and fully integrated into family life.

The flooring was one of the very first upgrades specifically so the kids could comfortably play out there alongside the cars and bikes.

Friends gather around old projects. The kids run in and out. Steve McQueen movies play quietly in the background.

This is a garage in the best sense of the word.

One of the first upgrades was the floor.

Instead of expensive epoxy or showroom tile, the owner went with Costco rubberized interlocking flooring after hearing how well it handled oil, leaks, and real garage abuse. It set the tone for the entire space. Functional first.

From there, the garage came together piece by piece.

The LiftMaster Premium Series Jackshaft 98022 silent garage door opener was a deliberate choice. Jon's son sleeps near the garage and wanted to avoid waking him up when the door opens. Problem solved. Maximum workbenches line the walls. A Torrin tool chest anchors the setup. A massive natural gas heater can warm the entire garage within minutes during Canadian winters. A recessed air compressor sits beneath the tinkering bench. Hoses and detailing supplies stay tucked neatly into cabinetry.

The workbenches are all Maximum, paired with a wall-mounted IKEA storage unit modified to fit a child wagon underneath. Benjamin Moore Command acrylic urethane paint hardens into an extremely durable finish across the black walls, helping the garage stand up to real use.

There’s thought behind everything, even the detailing setup. Chemical Guys products fill most of the cabinets alongside a few longtime Meguiar’s favorites. Hoses and nozzles stay recessed inside cabinetry, while the air compressor remains hidden beneath the bench.

Jon laughs when describing himself as a “fake mechanic.”

“If I have the opportunity to not tear down an engine, I won’t.”

That honesty is part of what makes the garage relatable. This isn’t a master fabricator building SEMA cars. It’s someone learning, refining, restoring, and figuring things out one project at a time.

Most of the motorcycles that pass through the space are vintage BMW airheads, old Triumph Bonneville's or dirt bikes, usually bought rough and brought back to his personal spec before being sold to fund the next project.

The formula has stayed surprisingly consistent over the years. Buy something interesting, bring it back to his spec, enjoy it for a while, then move it along to fund the next project, a familiar cycle amongst owners who have built their collections through project turnover.

Over time, those projects stacked up. Three or four car projects. Eight or nine motorcycles. Slowly, one machine led to the next until eventually the garage made room for the 1977 Porsche 911S Targa sitting there today.

The Porsche wasn’t a random purchase. It was earned through years of projects.

Getting there meant letting go of some important ones too, including a 1963 Volkswagen Beetle that Jon’s daughter absolutely loved.

“My daughter likes the Porsche,” he says. “But she loved the Bug.”

That tradeoff still stings a little.

The atmosphere matters just as much as the vehicles. A Sonos soundbar handles the music, chosen specifically to fill the space properly with quality sound.

Bright 6000K lighting handles the working side of the garage, while softer floor lamps completely change the mood once the tools are put away. He intentionally avoided harsh overhead lighting everywhere else, instead relying on floor lamps and softer ambient light to shape the atmosphere.

The result changes the garage completely at night. Part workshop, part hangout space.

“There’s always a Steve McQueen movie on.”

The garage is filled with what he calls “soul objects,” carefully sourced pieces that feel personal rather than mass-produced.

An original 1960s Heuer watch. High-end original Le Mans artwork. Detailed die-cast models. Vintage Snap-On and Mastercraft tools collected over time. His favorite piece is an original Monaco Grand Prix program from 1993, the same year he was born, complete with schedules, race details, and event information from the actual weekend.

Nothing was bought all at once. Most of it came from years of searching, trading, and slowly refining the space over time.

“People always think I spent a lot of money on this garage,” he says. “Reality is grinding, talking to people, and searching long and hard for the right pieces.”

What stands out most about the space is how connected it is to family life.

The garage is heated year-round and intentionally welcoming. The kids play inside it regularly. Friends gather there. New visitors immediately understand what the space means to the Jon.

Some of the favorite memories have nothing to do with horsepower, a sentiment shared with owners of other garage spaces built to support family gathering.

Photos of his daughter bundled up in winter gear beside vintage cars. An evening with neighbors replacing the front end on an old Chevy C20. Bike projects spread across the floor late into the night.

“Some people don’t get it,” he says. 

None of the memories revolve around the objects themselves.

“They all involve community and family. That’s what it’s all about.”

Over time, Jon’s relationship with collecting has changed.

He used to approach guitars the same way he approached projects. More was better. Eventually, that shifted.

Now, the focus is fewer things with more meaning.

One good electric guitar. One acoustic. One bass.

The garage follows the same philosophy. Every object left in the space has a reason to be there. Every project helped lead to the next one.

Nothing feels disposable.

This garage works because it’s true to the owner. 

It isn’t chasing perfection. It isn’t pretending to be a luxury showroom. It’s warm, personal, slightly worn in, and actively used every day.

More importantly, it’s filled with memories. The strongest memory came the day the Porsche arrived.

Jon bought the 1977 Porsche 911S Targa from a mechanic in his eighties. When they backed it into the garage for the first time, his daughter and wife were waiting with a handmade bow they had made for the occasion.

“They knew how badly I wanted it,” he says.

That moment says more about the garage than the cars ever could.