Joie de Vivre: Mazda MX-5
Before anything else, I’ll come clean: I’m an avowed Miata fan. No, I don’t own one (although I wish I had), and no, I’m not a member of a Miata club. But my relationship with Mazda’s drop-top icon goes as far back as high school (or was it college? I’m too old now to remember...). Back when the Miata was introduced, it was a throwback to the simplistic, everyman sports cars of the 50s and 60s, a British Triumph (or a Lotus 7) without the leaky top. At a time when sports cars had reached their technological zenith, brimming with turbos like the Nissan 300ZX and the Toyota Supra, and even with all-wheel drive like the Mitsubishi 3000GT – along with the accompanying price (not to mention weight) increases to make them out of reach for the average buyer – the Miata was a reminder of why we fell in love with sports cars in the first place. The simple delight of open-air motoring, the cheerful burble of a decent engine, a lightweight chassis that was a willing dance partner in the mountains, all at a price tag that wouldn’t break the bank... these were what defined the Miata. And it was a hit.
When Mazda, through Columbian Autocar Corporation at the time, imported a few Miatas in this country, enthusiasts snapped them up. At the time, the wealthy father of a friend of mine had a Miata among his burgeoning collection of luxury cars. For a few Sundays after ROTC, we’d come over to his house for the simple pleasure of driving the cars in their subdivision. It’s not often you’re handed the keys to a Porsche 911, a Jaguar XJ-S, and a Mazda Miata all in one day, but it was the Miata I enjoyed the most. The compact dimensions, lively handling, and unintimidating nature made it irresistible. Every driving nut has his first love. For me, that Miata was the car that got away.
Eleven years later, I walk into a Mazda dealership, fresh from the airport, to retrieve the test unit “MX-5”. With a typhoon pouring sheets of rain, the prospects look dim for enjoying the MX-5’s drop-top nature. Why is it called “MX-5” now, anyway? I know it’s always been called thus, but “Miata” has been dropped from the official Mazda nomenclature. Yes, “MX-5” is in keeping with Mazda’s penchant for giving its products (except for the Mazda3 and Mazda6) alphanumerical names like “CX-9” and “RX-8”, but it loses its charm. “Miata” has so much substance and history in it, while “MX-5” just sounds robotic. It’s like Apple’s strategy of giving real names to its products. Everybody can visualize what an iPhone is, can anybody really draw up an N85 from scratch?
Anyway, the security guard cheerfully opens the gate, and inside the service bay is Mazda’s gleaming red sports car. Only the sight of Keira Knightley clad in lingerie on my bed would have taken more of my breath away... and even then I’d have wondered where the heck was my even lovelier wife in such a scenario. (she reads my articles). The pert dimensions, rear fenders so tight they make me want to pinch them, a roofline that just flows over the body like quicksilver... it’s sports car simplicity turned into an art form.
I plop myself into the bucket seat, strap in, and start the engine. It fires up with a bassy rumble through those beautiful twin tailpipes, and I ease out into the street, gingerly threading my way through traffic. The unit has a stick shift just as God intended. It is a short-throw, close-ratio gearbox blessed with a clutch that’s firm enough to be taken seriously, but not so abrupt that you’ll stall and embarrass yourself. The shifter might as well be a joystick. Lever throws beat anything in the market today, even the Impreza’s, with the sort of rifle bolt precision that makes you remember why manually shifting is so much more fun in the first place. The pedals are closely spaced together so that anyone who still remembers the art of heel-and-toe downshifting can reawaken the senses. Even without the benefit of proper driving shoes, I was modulating the brake and blipping the throttle with ease after a few minutes’ practice.
The MX-5 initially came to market with a pokey 116-horsepower, 1.6-liter inline-four. Or was it 110? You see, it was that forgettable. Subsequent upsizing and other engine improvements have culminated in the current generation’s 2-liter unit. Now it gives you 170 horsepower and 18.9 kg-m of torque to play with. For the power-obsessed, and probably every Miata owner who’s taken matters into his own hands by supercharging his steed, the current stock output still isn’t an explosion of power, but for me, through the seat of the pants, it’s more than enough to make me feel alive.
Acceleration is brisk (Car & Driver quotes its 0-60mph at 6.5 seconds), and there’s ample torque to pull ahead of other cars even at 2,000 rpm. Of course, because the engine sounds so good, a bassy rumble with a slight 4-cylinder rasp as you zing towards redline, you will probably still downshift when you overtake just for the hell of it. I know I did.
More than the drivetrain, much of the MX-5’s character comes from the chassis. Maybe I’m just middle class and can’t fathom the idea of ever seriously thrashing a Porsche, but only the Mazda gives that confident feeling of “strapping a car to your back”. The car is just oozing with feedback; you feel the rumble of the road through the seats, there’s lots of tire, road, and wind noise, the suspension is firm but not harsh, and the steering might as well be directly wired to your brain.
Every driver input – steering, throttle, brakes – is immediately translated into motion by the car, It’s almost like a go-kart, only a lot more comfortable. It makes you want to drive far to relish every moment. Ironically, the MX-5 with its abundant power isn’t at its most comfortable on flat-out, high speed runs. The short wheelbase and quick steering give it a darty nature. Combined with the volume of noise from the engine, the road, and the tires, it’s a bit of a white knuckle affair trying to stay centered in your lane while trying to see if the car can break 200kph. It can, but you’ll be muttering a “Hail Mary” while at it. It’s at its best on a winding road where you can put that joystick shifter, that fly-by-wire-like steering, that immaculately balanced chassis to good use. It’s a sports car that fully involves the driver, and one that will only bite back if you make a horrible mistake.
Make that a sports car you could drive every day. To work, to the grocery, everywhere there’s decent tarmac. There’s a model with a traditional canvas top, but Mazda
With the top down, it guarantees pogi points to an embarassing degree. To drop the roof, you only need to release a latch in the headliner, then keep a button pressed down on the dash for 13 seconds. That’s how long it takes the roof to detach itself from the windshield frame, the rear cowling to lift and get out of the way, and then to return flush with the body after the roof has folded itself behind the seats. It’s a beautiful sequence guaranteed to wow onlookers every time you do this in public as the car does its Transformers impression. It’s a bit of a technological leap forward compared to the previous generation’s manual drop-top, but I’m not complaining. I remember trying to toss the old Miata’s top to the back before with one arm and nearly pulling a shoulder muscle. Besides, the hard top just looks neater, and the people that hate you for your car won’t have a fabric roof to slash. There’s also a windblocker between the headrests to keep out the draft, and at speed with the windows up, it won’t mess up your hair too much. It helps if you don’t have a lot of it anyway, like me.
Sadly, the weather during the test drive wouldn’t oblige me with enough daylight to fully preen in public with the top down. It was probably for the better, if only to make returning the keys a little less painful. Besides, what better way to test the practicality of the retractable hardtop than to drive around in the rain, your only concern being to not hit a pothole and crunch the expensive low-profile tires, and to not run into a flood.
After four days of city driving punctuated with a spirited drive up to Tagaytay, I found little to complain about with the car, even with the dreadful weather. Yes, the trunk is only big enough for a duffle bag or two. You can forget about carrying your golf clubs, unless you’re okay with putting them in the passenger seat. The ride is expectedly stiff, but not unbearable. Headroom is just enough for most Asians, but taller folks will be rubbing against the roof.
Oh yes, the price. I’m still trying to figure out how many people will cough up nearly two million for a Miata (the exact SRP is P1.999M). Yes, it’s a very nice sports car that’s at least twice as good as the first generation Miata that made it to our shores, but even after all the taxes and duties I wonder if Mazda hasn’t priced it beyond the threshold of most sporty car buyers, especially if you still remember that the first generation Miata was around P600k back then. Of course, I could be wrong, and maybe Mazda is confident they can sell as many MX-5s as they wish to import. Still, with the top down on a fine Sunday morning, making your way up to a hilltop cafe with that precisely tuned, four-cylinder soundtrack blaring through the tailpipes, it’s a great way to feel alive in this sports car.
THE GOOD
• Lovely styling.
• Lively chassis.
• Surprisingly comfortable yet athletic suspension.
• A powertrain that loves to play.
• Retractable hardtop looks good, works quickly, and still leaves some trunk space.
THE BAD
• Not at its best on flat-out, high speed runs.
• Can get tiring on long drives.
• Expensive.
• Robotic name.
THE VERDICT
• A traditional sports car you can enjoy every day of the year.
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