Mazda’s MX-5 Miata made for drivers who want to be in charge
All it takes is one latch.
Unhook it, fold the roof behind the only two seats and with one fell swoop you’ve formed a nearly unbreakable bond with the universe.
Short of a motorcycle, the only way for humans to savour these moments is without steel, glass and fabric above our heads.
Pass the sunscreen: This is Mazda Miata season.
Since Mazda pulled the cover off this plucky little convertible back in 1989, it has made one million of them. Sure, Toyota sold that many Corollas over the past three years alone. But when you consider the Miata (technically the MX-5) appeals to most of the crossover-buying masses as much as a broccoliand-asparagus salad would appeal to a five-year-old, the little car is basically the Ron Burgundy of twoseat droptops. Having outlived the Honda Del Sol, Pontiac Solstice and Saturn Sky near-twins, and the exceptional Honda S2000, the Miata is kind of a big deal.
The newest Miata, known as the ND among the Mazda-obsessed, represents a full circle. It’s lighter, smaller and more playful than the one that came before it. It’s also probably the prettiest of the previous three generations. Heck, it even won the 2016 World Car Design of the Year award.
The new one is still smiley, but it also looks like it’s scheming and up to no good. Like when a six-monthold beagle is conspicuously quiet, you know it’s causing trouble.
This explains why the ND Miata is — to exactly no one’s surprise — an absolute joy to drive. The 2.0-litre four-cylinder engine delivers 155 horsepower and 148 pound-feet of torque. That’s nothing to sneeze at, but the Miata has always been more than the sum of it’s parts. It’s how everything comes together, from the rev-happy engine to the exceptionally tight steering; from the slick transmission to the remarkably small footprint.
In a world where autonomous cruise control is quickly becoming the norm, the Miata still values you as a driver. It rewards you with playfulness on tight roads. With a delightful bark after each perfect downshift. With tanned, nectarine-coloured arms because you can’t not drive it with the top down. It’s truly remarkable how cute the Miata can be on first glance, yet it easily transforms into a rambunctious little plaything.
The one drawback is the membership fee to join the club. The new Miata starts at $31,900, but tick all the option boxes and you’re looking at just under $40,000. That’s a significant amount of pocket change, especially for something with essentially three-season appeal here in Canada. It’s a good car for sure, but is it $40,000 good? Maybe. Maybe not. The ND Miata faithfully lives up to the spirit of its predecessors, but that is both a blessing and a curse.
For most intents and purposes, used-Miata ownership is a relatively trouble-free proposition. Feed it oil and gasoline, wash it regularly, avoid road salt like the plague and it will be very kind to you. Heck, it’d probably still keep ticking after an asteroid hits the Earth. Not even a fiery demise can dampen a Miata’s spirits.
Want the purest driving experience? Go for the first-gen NA. Want a better interior and some more kick without losing any of the personality? The second-generation NB has your name on it. What’s that? You can’t even fit in the NA and NB? Might I direct you to the NC; it’s porkier but deep down, it’s a sprightly little thing. Some people call it a good car, but a bad Miata. That’s like calling the NC the tallest Oompa Loompa who works for Willy Wonka. Without a doubt, there’s something for everyone.
I can attest to this. My personal car is a 2003 Miata, a black-on-tan NB. Until the ND appeared, this was probably the peak of the Miata lineage. It’s not as basic as the NA, but definitely not as bloated as the NC. It drives remarkably similar to an NA, despite being a few pounds heavier. It is still agile, communicative and quick enough, thanks to the 1.8-L engine, but that last point is relative. Unless you’re in a Mazdaspeed Miata, you will not win a stoplight drag race with a V6powered Toyota Camry.
But the NB is a momentum car above all else; build up enough speed, don’t be afraid of the redline and you’ll lose that Camry on twisty tarmac without breaking a sweat. Of course, my NB is more than “just a car.” It’s far from perfect, but who cares? It has imperfect paint, a bit of rust and a rattly interior, but a midnight blast on a humid summer night with the roof stowed, the stars winking and full moon smirking just doesn’t have the same effect when you’re in a mobile appliance.
The catch? Well, there isn’t one. Used Miatas are as affordable as they are delightfully fun. If you can’t swing a new ND, all three generations offer 9/10ths of the fun at 5/10ths of the price; $15,000 takes you very far in the Miata world, but that doesn’t mean the new ND doesn’t have a purpose. It’s the sharpest. The newest. The quickest.
Want a Miata right now? Answer A, B or C. Patient? Wait another five years and buy a used ND.
Just don’t forget the sunscreen.