My mom texted me last week about a memory that popped up on her Facebook feed. Pretty standard mom behaviour. But unlike every other time my mom texts me, I didn’t end up audibly groaning before grasping the bridge of my nose in expected stress and mumbling, “I can’t deal with this today …”
That’s because she sent a memory of the day I brought home my 2004 Mazda RX-8, and I couldn’t help but feel the sharp pain of nostalgia for my little oddball Mazda. And, of course, in true gearhead fashion, I immediately began searching for one on AutoTrader, wondering how much it might cost to reclaim my first-ever true sports car.
While there are plenty of examples for sale right now on AutoTrader, one particular 2007 example for sale in Parkland County, Alta., caught my eye, as it looks almost identical to the car I parted ways with over a decade ago.
It has the same silver paint, optional wing, black leather interior, six-speed manual transmission, and the same kick-ass Bose audio system. And, of course, the same 1.3-litre (or 2.6 if you multiply by rotors) rotary engine.
Well, not exactly the same. Mazda made some updates in 2006 to solve several annoyances that customers experienced in the 2004/2005 models.
And let me tell you, with the notable exception of burning out an apex seal (a dreaded thought that always loomed in the back of my mind during my entire course of ownership), I experienced each and every single frustration and bug that the quirky RX-8 had to offer.
These bugs started on day one of ownership, which is perhaps why I remember the day so vividly.
I finally got to take my “new to me” sports car out for a drive. It was my first stick shift car, so in addition to just feeling great about having a real-deal rear-wheel-drive tuner car, I felt a huge sense of pride that I was now “one of those” people who drove stick. The previously alien experience was no longer something to be avoided but embraced. I felt proud, and I was having fun.
Then I pulled back into my parents’ driveway only to notice a steady trail of oil as far back as I could see behind me. My car wasn’t just leaking oil, it was gushing it. The culprit was a bad oil cooler line that decided that today, of all days, was the day it had finally had enough.
The oil leaks didn’t stop there. Every single time I took the car in for an oil change, it would leak from the oil breather due to over-filling.
I always knew that you couldn’t shut the rotary engine off for at least 10 minutes on a cold start because if you did, the engine would flood. I was able to avoid the issue until one extremely snowy day while moving the car around to shovel the driveway, I shut it off too early.
It also kept blowing holes in its own exhaust, which sounded great but was very costly (though better than experiencing the rumoured alternative of the exhaust melting the engine mounts).
Let’s see, what else could go wrong?
The transmission tunnel got so hot you could fry an egg on it. And filling up with premix and topping off the oil every three or four gas stops didn’t seem like a big deal until it happened on a date or before a job interview.
When my poor RX-8 finally started developing rust issues known to occur on 2004 model year examples, I knew it was time to put it out to pasture. I traded my dad for his 2007 Cadillac STS, and he traded the RX-8 for an SRT Charger.
As if the RX-8 hadn’t yet extracted enough blood and treasure, it broke a clutch cable on the way to the Dodge dealer. And then it flooded again.
However — and I really mean this — I honestly have nothing but good memories of my RX-8. To this day, it is one of the most joyful and rewarding cars I’ve ever driven.
Unlike the previous RX-7, the RX-8 was largely based on the architecture of the MX-5 roadster, and that came across in its driving profile. “Chuckable” doesn’t begin to describe how badly you could abuse the RX-8 on a twisty backroad just to have it bounce right back and scythe you through a turn like a hot knife through butter.
The clutch was light, the action on the shifter glorious, and the gearing was beyond livable and forgiving. This is the kind of car that will make you fall in love with driving a stick.
The RX-8 was so well-balanced and forgiving — with just the right amount of power to achieve speed but effortlessly mastered — that it taught a lot about car control. It showed you not just how to operate a machine but manipulate it to perform the task at hand. It felt like a great sparring partner as opposed to something to wrestle into submission.
Screaming the rotary engine to a 9,000-rpm redline never got old, which was a good thing because Mazda literally recommended that you do it every day.
And other than the epic oil and fuel consumption and general sensitive nature of the rotary engine, it wasn’t even difficult to live with.
The suicide door rear seats were helpful for a college student lugging around textbooks and carting around the occasional rear passenger. Toss a set of snow tires on in the winter, and you couldn’t slide the car unless you wanted to.
And speaking of winter, the heater core was fantastic (mostly because it was sourced from Ford, which had a controlling stake in Mazda at the time). Not that I ever used it because I had heated seats and the heat from the transmission tunnel was enough to keep the whole cabin cozy and keep my coffee warm on morning commutes.
My RX-8 was the perfect introduction to an enthusiast sports car. It had quirks and some headaches to deal with, but it wasn’t hopelessly impractical and was exceptionally rewarding to drive. Yes, it demanded maintenance and attention, but it paid me back.
The headaches I encountered were addressed with an update in 2006. The ECU firmware was updated in an effort to prevent flooding on a cold start, a revised oil-filler prevented overfill, and Mazda majorly improved its rust-proofing, leading to many clean examples still on the road today. So you can feel much better about purchasing a clean 2007 example like this one.
But here’s the real kicker: for $9,500, you’d be paying less in 2024 than I did in 2011. To get what is, in all likelihood, a better car despite looking virtually identical. And it’s just one of many examples for sale right now.
Sure, the RX-8 is not the RX-7. Not by a long shot. It probably won’t ever be considered as desirable, and that’s a good thing.
Because in a marketplace where sports and enthusiast cars often demand an unreasonable premium, it’s nice to think back to a time when you could be a college student with a part-time job but still have a super fun sports car.
