spot_img
Home Blog Page 51

Test Drive: 1997 (NA) Mazda MX-5 (Miata)

Dialing up our “way back machine” we could have easily queued up old episodes of MotorWeek and TopGear, or re-read articles from MotorTrend and Car&Driver, to provide you with amazing facts and pre-production propaganda about our featured 1997 Mazda Mx-5 (Miata); instead we’ve revisited this 20 year old, nearly stock, specimen to give you more of a “How has it held up over time?” review.

I had the task of spending the better part of a few days, and nearly 250 miles behind the wheel of this 211,000 mile 1.8 Liter NA (1st generation) Miata which belongs to GTM Member: Matt Y.

Tune in everywhere you stream, download or listen!

Listen on Apple
Listen on YouTube
Listen on Spotify

All jokes aside…

The Miata is one of those cars that definitely has a … reputation. I won’t highlight them all here, but if you’ve been in the motoring community long enough you’ve probably heard the jokes. 

Before imageAfter image


For this adventure, I needed to dress the part. I abandoned my traditional aviators, tee-shirts and 5 o’clock shadow … and donned what we call at GTM, “the Bowser.” (below)


Let’s cover the Good, the Bad and the Extremely Cramped.

I’ve been practicing this odd concept called “positivism” so let’s start with the Miata’s high points…

Despite the mid-90s utilitarian interior, the Japanese designers at Mazda managed to create something so simple and rather elegant with the interior styling. The interior layout and components still work even in today’s technology enabled motoring world.

Every control and dial is exactly where you think it should be, no searching about for “Where did they hide the headlight switch?” – all of the items are clearly marked and easy to use. In comparison, take a look inside of an early ’90s toyota, even a BMW or VW, the interiors look dated, almost trying to be futuristic but usually chunky and clunky. The shifter is a delight, accurate, weighted and you have a sense of it’s directness to the gearbox – heel/toe shifting comes natural. Throttle response feels like you are revving up a Cessna not a car, much like roadsters than inspired the Miata, it spins up like a Fiat or MG. You feel as though it’s going to rev to 10,000 rpm.

The Miata has that British sports car feel – it doesn’t have an overwhelming amount of power; but the car is light, clocking in at 2300 lbs in full trim. The power is “just right” — but don’t ever look at the speedo or you’ll be completely disappointed; just tune into the hum of the motor and enjoy the scenery going by. On it’s best day, this Miata *could* make a whopping 100 whp; bone stock, around 133 bhp. Despite the age of this Miata, we won’t address “loss of bhp over time.” Even on a worn out suspension the car handles amazingly well, even more amazing on the 14” tires, dated from over 10 years ago. Turn in is immediate and the steering is very accurate. Simply put: The car is light, agile and competent.

“Smallness” means zipping through traffic is like navigating an autocross course and parking is awesome – be mindful to pull up to the *back* of a parking spot so that Nancy-the-Soccer-Mom’s SUV doesn’t plow into the back of your Miata when you run into the Hair Cuttery. Parallel parking is a breeze, a definite PASS for folks taking their driving test. Moreover, the turning circle is so tight you feel like you could make a U-turn in your parking spot. 3-point turn – CHECK!

Admittedly, it’s not the best highway cruiser, but once you get off the highways and onto the B-roads the Miata really comes to life, it’s an absolute bomb-stormer to drive on a country road, there will be few cars that can keep up with your pace. The brake system that clamps down on the *massive* 9-inch rotors could be made from petrified dog poop and sawdust and the Miata would still stop on a dime and give you back quarters. You actually have to be careful that someone doesn’t run into the back of you when stopping quickly in traffic.


If you’re not familiar with the Miata’s “greatness” here’s the basic info you need to know:

Engine

1.8L, 16-valve, Inline 4 cylinder, Longitudinal Mount, Gas

Power

133 bhp @ 6500 rpm
114 ft.lbs of torque @ 5500 rpm

Curb Weight

2300 lbs.

Drivetrain

5-speed manual, RWD

Dimensions

Length – 155.4 inches (13 feet)

Height – 48.2 inches (4 feet)

Wheelbase – 89.2 inches (7.4 feet)

Turning Circle – 30 feet

MPG

EPA estimated 20/26 mpg. 87-octane is OK!

**In total, we spent $12.75 on fuel to fill the tank!

Specifications: Sourced from Edmunds.com


And now for the  “glass half empty” portion:

With the Miata clocking in at 4 feet tall (on stock suspension) it sits below the belt line of most vehicles made in the last 5-7 years; most people can’t see the car and you have a hard time seeing over them. Visibility is poor at best (unless you’re parking). You can, however, get a very good view of the aforementioned Nancy’s 20” SUV rims. The side mirrors are too close to the driver, but we fear the only alternative would have been to mount them on the front fenders like a Late 60s Nissan 240-Z or GT-R.

The Miata (especially with a Hard Top) is very difficult for someone above 5’10” to drive comfortably for long periods of time. The cabin is extremely small and without seat modifications is just utterly cramped. Road noise by today’s standards is unacceptable, even with Bluetooth and some ambient noise suppression you best plan on being on/off mute constantly and quickly if you’re trying to entertain a webex while on your way to work. Most Miata owners would probably agree, never bring a beverage into the car unless it has a screw-on top (and it better seal really well); because the Miata doesn’t have any room for cup holders. Our road tested car had an optional add-on holder which squeezed between the tunnel and the passenger seat. This is good for a single commuter, but needs to be removed if you want to bring a passenger, or your Jack-Russel-Mix, Trixie along. Your starbucks Latte will have to be enjoyed *before* returning to your Miata. The front passenger footwell + seat are more useful for hauling groceries than the trunk – which is catastrophically small.

Even with the windows open (and the Hard Top in place) there is very little airflow in the cabin. Removing the top opens you up to the world, but there are downsides to that too. The Soft Top is quietly tucked away, but where do you store the Hard Top if you didn’t plan ahead? You can remove the Hard Top on your own, but it’s rather awkward. Getting help from a friend makes the process a lot easier. The center tunnel gets extremely warm during long stints on the highway, causing the hairs on your right leg to eventually singe from the heat. Turning on the A/C robs the engine of a noticeable amount of horsepower. If you choose to run the A/C instead of dropping the top, switch it off and downshift to pass, especially going up-hill. Gear ratios are extremely short, 4000 rpm at 70 mph – which makes the car feel “peppy” but kills your overall MPG. The only upgrade to the car we tested was an aftermarket (Borla) exhaust system. This modification lead to a numbing resonance in the cabin due to the high revving at highway speeds.

The NA (1st generation) Miata is one of those cars that by most critics opinions doesn’t hold a candle to today’s standards in sports cars or innovation. Most driving today is spent slogging through the hellacious stop-n-go traffic wars, with technology and gizmos to soothe you to and from the office. But cars from the same era as the Miata (ie: GTIs, Sciroccos, MR2s, E30s, etc) remind you WHY we do this, why we like cars. They bring you back to when “driving freedom” existed, much like that feeling you got when you first started driving without parental supervision.


The Answer is Always Miata…

Leave the Hard Top at home, pack your flip flops, a bathing suit, dog treats for Trixie and hit the beach with just enough snacks from 7-eleven to keep you satiated. You’ll have to take the good with the bad, but in my opinion, the Miata is that right blend of everything that makes driving FUN!

Tune in everywhere you stream, download or listen!

Listen on Apple
Listen on YouTube
Listen on Spotify

#merrymotoring

Test Drive: Audi A3 in Italy

My itinerary for my Imola trip began with some frustrating travel issues, issues which piled up on top of each other. The plan was that I arrive in Milan, and then drive over the Alps to see my sister, in Villars-sur-Ollon at the eastern end of Lake Geneva. Automotively, this would not be a dead loss – there is a biennial hill climb from the valley floor up through Villars on the narrow switchback road up from the valley floor into the mountains, and I would be able to drive the route of the event. However, the plane had an issue on the tarmac in California; it needed a new windscreen wiper fitting. This meant we were late into Schiphol airport in Amsterdam. Where it was “King’s Day” and the place was rammed with people. People who made sure I missed my connection. People who made sure that the next flight to Milan which had room for me wouldn’t leave until 8.30 that evening, 11 hours hence. Thus I barely got to the car rental counter in Milan before it closed up for the night. Having been scarred before by horrid rental cars ( Toyota Corolla Versa, Chevy Aveo, I am thinking of you ) , I had paid extra when booking to guarantee that I got an Alfa Giulietta. Thus I was surprised and unhappy to be offered the choice of one of those hideous new Fiat people carriers or an Audi A3. I’d even confirmed that I would be getting the Alfa in my idle hours in Schiphol. With the Audi fob in my pocket, I set out to find the car in the car park. Three car parks and 45 minutes later, I was still looking, my patience now thoroughly tested. It now being midnight, everything was closed, there was no-one to ask for help. Ah, the glamour and joy of international travel.

When finally out on the road leaving the airport, I impatiently moved into the left lane to pass the only other vehicle on the road, a bus, and thereby skillfully missed the turn onto the autostrada. In trying to turn around, I got tangled up in a particularly seedy Milan suburb, my first u-turn nearly scooping up a scantily clad young woman on the hood of the car. Pulling over to consult a map, again, I nearly hit a very long legged/short skirted girl who seemed to almost throw herself at the car. Distracted by this, only then did I realize what was going on – or more specifically, what profession these ladies were involved in.

When I found the autostrada, I had expected to be able to relax. Just four hours on the Autostrada now, Europop and Autogrill espressos, right ? Well, not quite. The main autostrada linking Venice with Milan and Turin was closed. It now being well past midnight, one can understand roadworks, but to close the whole road ? There was a diversion signed, but it wasn’t clear, especially not at night in the rain….let me explain the scope of the challenge by saying that there were at least six whores who nearly met their maker on the nose of that Audi rental car.

Finally clear of Milan, I hoped the rain would stop. Instead, it intensified. Even at only 80mph ish, the A3 would aquaplane, there was so much standing water. Driving in the right lane, in the grooves worn by trucks, was an altogether dangerous proposition. Off the autostrada and climbing up into the Alps, I still wasn’t able to get clear of the weather. There was very little other traffic. The roads became narrower, many sections were switchbacks. Would the Great St Bernard pass even be open ? I had assumed it would be, when I was planning back in California, but climbing up through silent towns, seeing no other traffic on the road, I really wasn’t sure. With the comforting thought that the worst that could happen was that I would have to sleep in the car for a few hours till morning, I decided to press on until I was stopped.

Arriving at the mouth of the Great St Bernard tunnel, the man in the booth was asleep on his desk, raising his head and looking at me bleary eyed as he sold me the tunnel ticket. It says 3 am exactly. In the tunnel, the tarmac was perfectly smooth, perfectly lit and perfectly dry. I was elated by the tunnel being open, elated I had found it, elated I had a bone straight dry road, elated I had it all to myself. So, I did the only reasonable thing, and wrung everything I could out of the car. I had a long downhill; it felt like I squeezed about 120mph out of it before exploding out of the tunnel into a complete white out, I couldn’t even see kerbs or buildings, let alone road markings. The car was immediately a 100mph+ toboggan, and even with ABS it was all I could do not to spin it and to somehow get it slowed to a faintly controllable speed without hitting something.

Beginning the descent as my adrenaline subsided, even 25 mph provoked understeer in turns and an abnormal response to steering inputs. Not only was there a couple of inches of coverage, but great thick flakes were falling out of the sky. The road was switchbacks, so even though I couldn’t see the landscape it was safe to assume that an off road excursion would be very bad indeed. With the benefit of hindsight it was lucky I had the cojones not to stop, because I think I would have got snowed in at the top – as it was, I just kept on slip-sliding down, judging the grip afresh on each corner, and soon the snow was rain, and the roads no longer hairpin turns/sheer drop offs.

4 am, and I was banging on my sister’s front door, musing that on balance, perhaps I had not been so unlucky after all.

More on the A3 here.


This content was originally featured on JonSummers.net, reposted with permission.