Practical, Accessible Perforance, with surprising handling ability – wrapped opinion-splitting styling.
 3.6/5

The 5th Generation Type-R; the FK8 has been obliterating Nurburgring lap times left right and centre. With a $50k Price-tag though, it’s out of reach for people not looking for a brand new vehicle. So what better time to look to the last of the Naturally Aspirated rev-nuts to bare the coveted red H. We pop down to our pals at Auto Exotica, to take one for a test.

  The fourth Gen FN2 as it was known in Europe, came only as a three-door hatchback. The rear suspension came in a simplistic torsion beam setup, and a drivetrain which was largely similar to that of the outgoing model at the time. That is, 148kw (201 bhp). The screaming 4-pot i-vtec motor wails to an 8,300 redline and the uninitiated often jump to comments akin to ‘no torque’, ‘sluggish’ etc. But the truth is, there is a certain je ne sais quois that comes with the territory that takes some adjustment to your approach to appreciate. there’s a certain learning curve involved here.

Whilst that might sound cliche, it’s shrouded by truth. It often seems that only those familiar with the ‘Type-R’ moniker, truly understand the somewhat cult appeal. You see, the reality is, the ‘CTR’ is one of those cars where you have to wring it’s next to truly enjoy it.

On the outside, it’s modern, spaceship-esque looks divide many. Some see the split rear window which to me harks of the CRX’s which I lusted over after as a kid without a licence. One of the original pocket rockets. Nostalgic, yes – but greatly rear-view inhibiting.  Others see a car that looks like it wouldn’t be out of place on a set of Star Trek. Personally? I think it’s aged well. It doesn’t have the wild arches, false vents and monster wings of the latest offering – but I definitely feel that three-door setup suits the hot hatch model much better than a five. The outside does a great job of making the car look like it’s redlining without moving, without being too OTT. Inside, the sporting, futuristic intent is clear.

The dash wraps around the driver, displaying all of the vitals and offering all of the controls with the smallest of eye movements or figure tweaks needed to interact with them. A lower display houses fuel economy, revs and other warning lamps whilst an upper display shows your speed. The gear lever is positioned so that your hand finds it as soon as you neutrally drop it from the wheel – and whilst we’re talking about it, it is very slick. Each year clunks into place with rifle-bolt precision. The Recaros up front may prove too tight a fit for the larger enthusiasts out there, but for most they hold you in all the right places. For me, they fit like a glove. Some complain that the driving position is a tad high but that is one of those oh so personal features of a car that not all will ever agree on. The steering wheel is small and sporty, and perforated aluminium trims the pedals. A ’type R’ placard above the gear lever and red Honda badge which adorns the wheel are nice touches. Another surprise is the cooled glovebox which is piped in to the air-conditioning – a benefit of the GT pack which includes electric folding mirrors, fog lights, cruise control (a must in my humble opinion if you want to avoid the trap of speeding tickets that toeing the vtec line may well bring) and dual-zone climate control with individual controls on the passenger’s door card.

The push-start button, whilst a nice touch is a bit of a novelty in that not only do you have to insert the key to start the car, but you also have to turn the key to turn ff the engine. We have to remember that the FN2 predates more modern keyless entry systems by as much as a decade though. Such gimmicks do add to the sense of occasion though and if you know anything about me, it’s probably that I like a little drama to accompany a drive.

Spurring to life, the peppy 2.0 motor is quite muted if we’re honest, but a somewhat satisfying blip doesn’t extinguish all excitement. Navigating out of the carpark I notice the typical ease of piloting a light hatchback around tight conditions. The ride is firm, which again is often another point of contention, but given the sporty intent of the machine, I feel is well-suited and the handling benefits that it naturally brings to the table are well worth a few jolted bones. It all depends on your background; personally, I don’t find the ride to bring too much discomfort. Onto the main road, a squeeze on the accelerator and we climb through the revs, two thousand, three thousand, five tho… oh my! The much-memed vtec moment and a noticeable rush of urgency. You ride a wave of revs for the next 3,500 on the range with increased intensity and growing aural pleasure. A slight quiver of torque steer hustles you before you slot into the next gear on the close-ratio six speed. Paired with the limited slippy diff it forms a playful partnership as you tilt in to the upcoming corner where you can really start to appreciate the feedback of the electronic steering. The car is about more than straight line drag times and tyre smoking although if you’re enthusiastic you will hear a chirp from the front wheels, but truth is they are not quick to come un-glued from the road.

The CTR isn’t for everyone, you can’t of course please them all. Around town it lacks low down torque. It’s torsion beam rear suspension is less sophisticated than the Type R of old (many will say this has a huge handling impact; the truth is that it more effects the balance between a smoother ride and handling – plenty of capable machines come sporting torsion bars). FWD, hatchback, compact; these are all generally things that I don’t aim for when shopping. But if you are looking for a fun car that’s a blend of practical and fun then it makes a strong case for itself. The boot swallows 415 litres, trebling if you drop the rear seats. Much like the king of practicality, the Jazz, there is an additional shelf under the rear bench. If Safety is your thing, it packs 6 airbags, ESC with traction control and of course ABS all courtesy of its four-star ANCAP rating. The environmentally conscious will be pleased to hear that it affords 7.6 l / 100km if driven to achieve so. And for those who have petrol flowing through the veins, you will enjoy the rewards of keeping it in the vtec rev-range as you bound from corner to corner, smiling all the while.

Priced on the used market between 10 and 16k, the FN2 Civic Type R might divide opinions for seeming less hardcore than its predecessor and successor; whilst others love it’s blend of top end performance and everyday practicalities, but it is certainly a performance bargain once you learn to master it.

That is why; I’m guessing the thing came lathered in ///M Badges. On each wing, the boot lid, the gear knob, the steering wheel, the wheels themselves and under the bonnet for good measure. And speaking of the bonnet, it sits above an aggressive front end, with a muscle bulge to set it apart from the somewhat tamer standard Z4. Just in case anyone should make the mistake that your roadster was the run of the mill 2.5 steptronic variant. But the Z4M is more than simply badges and tailpipes.

Priced at $180k on release and yours for circa $60k now, the Z4M came packing 340 bhp courtesy of a 3.2 litre straight 6 power plant lifted straight from the infamous e46 M3 CSL. That means that with a kerb weight of 1,450 kg, the Z4M reaches 100kph in a shade under 5 seconds. In fact when we put it to the test we mustered a 4.8.

The Z4 was renowned for it’s somewhat controversial but growing looks. An
gular panels, with an elegant flare. It has the typical muscle roadster proportions, a huge, sweeping bonnet, seats almost over the rear seats and a growling naturally aspirated heart. The dash in this model features the pop-up screen, which folds away into the soft-touch dash which is fronted by a faux carbon fibre facia. The SatNav operates on the same principle as the newer i-drive interface. Rotate to scroll through menus, push to select. It is loaded with the 6cd changer in the centre-rear cubby space, as well as a/v input, parking sensors, iPod interface and phone cradle. Bluetooth can be tricky to pair on the phone, requiring split second timing.

My favourite feature is in the somewhat long key. Click the unlock button three times and hold; and the roof and windows drop. Quite the party trick.

Pour into the cockpit and you’ll find it snug but well laid out. The electronic roof drops away in under 5 seconds, and the speedo and tachometer are cowled towards the driver. A thick, chunky steering wheel sits at the centre of the action; some complain it is too thick but for my stubby fingered chunky man hands it is a perfect fit. Turn the key and the exhaust note is quite subdued at idle. Blip the throttle and you get a little burble as you ease off.

Foot down and she screams to life. The first gear whilst long, is subject to a lot of criticism for feeling ‘loose’ as you hunt for second. She’s fickle; pulling away without bunny-hopping is an acquired skill in itself. The situation worsens should you hit the ‘sport’ button. Many will tell you that the button does nothing but I couldn’t disagree more. It sharpens up the throttle response by means of adjusting the amount that the fly-by-wire system opens the throttle at any given pedal position. I.E. where a throttle might be at 10% with sports mode off, it will be at 15% in the same position with it on. What does this mean in the real world? It means that faster shifts and getting your throttle on as you come out of the apex happens that split second more quickly. The M has a heavy clutch which adds to the sheer drama of the thing.

The layout of the car means that I you flick the traction control off, she will be tail-happy/ With the high rev limit, you can tip into a corner and ride a wave of tyre smoke sideways through the apex. The suspension, whilst firm is known to be a little crashy, getting unsettled should you hit a bump mid turn. It does however provide good stability. This isn’t a car that you try to navigate with precision through corners in the same way that you would a 911 or a Cayman. You take a deep breath, pick a gear, flick the wheel and unleash a throttle full of fury until you emerge, giggling nervously.
The mechanical roar climaxes as you race from 5k to the XXXXXXXXX redline and in this example, the roar is deepened by the AFE intake which pivots heads like owls from 20 meters away with a wide open gas pedal. Turn after turn with extreme use, the brakes if used over-enthusiastically do flutter a hint of fade, however the CSL’s stoppers are plenty man enough for road and light track duties.

We had the pleasure of piloting this example bone-stock and with a few bits of garnish. On the standard 18” wheels wrapped in Yokohama I certainly could feel a hint of understeer and a slightly dulled turn-in which is cured by adding a load of oversteer. Whereas after modification – lightweight 19” wheels from the M3 CSL coated in Michelin Super Sport wheels (at a staggering $3,200 a set for 245/ 235 width stance), and a Weicher’s front brace, turn in was sharper, responsive and honed what was already a thrilling experience. The electronic steering of the normal Z4 is thrown away for a hydraulic setup purely because it was the M Department’s preference, offering more modulated control and feedback.

The Z4M gained criticism for not being as sharp as the M3 which it was effectively cousin to; nor as sharp its competition aka the Porsche Boxster. But having gained an almost cult following, it is often viewed as an underrated gem. The German TVR some will say. Some say the gearbox lacks feel in the shift from one to two which I can certainly see – it always feels like an uncertain affair. There are no real reliability quirks, the recipe is simple. A well-sized motor, linked to a simple, non-complicated gearbox, bolted to the rear wheels via an LSD. There are no SMG hydraulics to fail. The usual M3 Vanos quirks remain, which simply means that you will have to keep to a maintenance schedule. The great thing is that cars like this attract an almost cult following of dedicated and friendly enthusiasts who grow to know the car inside and out who create great communities online and at events.

In standard form, the M is an exhilarating hoot of a machine. With a bit of fettling, the Z4M is definitely cemented as something special. The Coupe generally gets praise for being sharper, stiffer, more composed. The car that the roadster wasn’t. Which is exactly why I would reach for the keys to the drop to every time. The point of a car that feels this alive, is to have the wind ruffle your air, to feel like you’re amongst the elements and very much involved with the drama. Prices have steadied and even started to rise and perhaps this future classic candidate has potential in its residuals.

With newer iterations of the RS Megane on the market, could now be a good time to grab a performance bargain?

It’s a sunny Autumn day in Perth, my flight is an hour late which only means that the rush hour has had a chance to die down. Sometimes linings are indeed Silver. The standard twenty-minute wait for my bags is over, and I find myself briskly walking towards the car rental car parks with a subconscious spring in my step. Signing my life away and declining the optional ‘double the money, half the risk’ insurance option, a young lady hands over what looks like a chunky credit card with a smile.

I’m pointed out to the car park and in the far corner, a slick, gorgeous looking hatchback sits, soaking in the environment around it with it’s infinite, deep paintwork reflecting its surroundings. Finger on the small square and the doors pop open. As far as first impressions go? The RS 265 comes wrapped in a gorgeous pseudo coupe body. Opening the boot reveals a practical albeit not generous storage space. The styling of the rear lights cuts into the typical hatchback opening and the sweeping rear window means that the rear compartment  is, lets face it, a little squashed. Added to the sweeping roof which means that any lad who’s been drinking their milk as a kid will struggle to sit with a straight head.

The interior of this RS attract criticisms of feeling dated; and prodding the clunky air-con controls and turning up the sound through the borderline lacklustre speakers does lead you to start to understand why. But if you viewed the roof spoiler, the low suspension, the racing red “Brembo” callipers and the small “R.S.” badging on the back on the walk back to the car, chances are you already knew that comfort wasn’t the name of the game here. This premium version does have some sprinkles, such as part leather seats and reversing camera.

Pleasantly surprised, I mash my clumsy man fingers on the start button and the engine chirps to life. Pulling out of the car park, she feels typically sporty hatchback. Comparatively light steering, firm suspension soaks up the bumps whilst also keeping you aware of what’s going on. All in all a smooth ride. The Clutch has a low biting point, so smooth take-offs do take a little getting used to. The RS is a proper manual, none of this flappy-paddle nonsense. A stiff pedal, a stick that mashes metal to other metal and it all feels rather involving.

There is an iffy looking rocker switch to the inside of the handbrake which enables or disables the cruise control. Effective compared to many ‘stick’ type cruise control switches where you don’t know if its on or off, but looks rather oddly placed, but the switch gear around the wheel including the cruise control adjusters are all well placed and intuitive to handle. The route is a gorgeous section of road in the Perth Hills. Sweeping beds, rolling landscapes and magnificent trees that tower up into the horizon.

I add more and more gas, turning in with increasing gusto when I spy a small ‘RS’ button. That’s got to be good right?

And Wow.

The Megane starts to make sense. With the RS mode enabled, the 2.0 engine burbles and pops. The revs are that little bit more forthcoming. The whole vehicle feels. Tighter. A Placebo perhaps, but as I dial in more and more gas, the Megane becomes an absolute blast! The turn in is sharp and composed. The suspension is firm but not crashy. It telegrams you to let you know exactly what your car is doing. The game of progress becomes a flowing cascade of focusing on the next apex, squirting the pedal, and riding the huge grin on your face onto the next.  Bucketloads of grip mixed with the utmost poise. The heart pumps adrenaline around your body and you brake later and later, trusting the Cup’s chassis to guide you on your journey.

The brakes do fade with continual pounding, despite their racing heralds – but in RS mode the steering tightens up, the throttle response becomes crisp and perky and the whole experience becomes about raw pleasure.

The gear change is satisfyingly mechanical in nature. Squeal towards the redline, dip the clutch and a satisfying clunk composes things again ready for the onslaught.

The RS mode gives the centrally mounted screen a splattering of race focused options, timers, g-meters, telemetry trackers, 0-100km timers. 5.8 – in case you wondered.

Torque steer makes a cameo in this production, but it never steals the spotlight. It’s dealt with in a subtle manor, gently swaddling the wheel side to side as opposed to stamping the axle, snatching the wheel from your hands and tossing you asunder into the nearest tree.

The pedals are placed well for some of your finest heel-toeing, and for my height the seating position is very agreeable. Some may find they need a little extra rake on the wheel. The Megane sounds somewhat muted but does have a nice tone to its growl. Reving out to over 6,500 rpm, it punches the hardest over around 3,500, hurtling you towards the redline. It’s not the lightest hatch compared to the Clio, but the Clio lacks legs which the Megane has and then some.

Over a weekend, and some 2,000 kms of driving, I managed an average of 11.6 L / 100m – which whilst significantly over the factory claims; is what I think you could expect when driven the way this thing deserves to be driven.

The RS is a car that isn’t without it’s foibles. Some argue that the gearbox is too noisy.  You won’t want to fit a serious payload in the boot. Big Dave might not fit in the back seats if he

wants to maintain his posture. You can’t use the cruise control whilst in RS mode (but why on earth would you want to??). The sub-premium audio setup will leave audiophiles numb. Then there’s the dated looking air con setup and the basic dash. But do you know what? None of that matters. It’s a car that you grab by the scruff of the next and drive until your senses are completely satisfied. The interior is adequate for the purpose, and the gearbox is swift enough to add to the sense of occasion. It’s a car that is made for the petrolhead. And with used prices dipping below $22,000 – it’s a bloody performance bargain!

Slam ”budget sports car” into a google image search, and the first response (at least as I write this!) will contain a snapshot of a Mazda MX5. In fact, bring up the concept of a budget sports car to any motoring enthusiast and it won’t be long until Mazda gets a mention. Unfortunately, ”hairdresser” is never far behind it – but is that fair, or more to the point; should you care?

The MX-5 was released as the Miata for our US friends and the Eunos for our Japanese neighbours and without a doubt there is a reason why it continues to be the best selling two door sports car in history. From an era renowned for Jap Muscle, the original Mx5 came fronted by a 1.6 DOHC 115bhp motor, but weighing in at a shade over 960 kg and sporting a 0-100 sprint time in excess of 8 seconds, it’s very clear that the intent was never out and out pace.

Through several  facelifts, the MX-5 has stood the test of time, in a similar way that the Porsche 911 has.

Perfection through evolution rather than revolution; with each generation sculpted, chiselled, moulded to be that little modicum more compliant than the last. But with the release of the latest model slamming us into 2016 where we have sub 5 second (to 100) hatches, do you have to shell out tens of thousands in order to find a fun roadster?

The short answer would be ‘No. Thanks for reading.’ But for the less easily convinced, you first have to look at what makes the MX-5 so iconic and that is simply that it ticks the boxes that drivers love about the art of driving; and that’s without thinking about the huge aftermarket availability, super and turbocharger kits and mad v8 conversions. My first MX-5 experience came some 10 years ago now. I was being ferried to an office to undertake some pretty critical photocopying and to make up for it, my boss offered to play chauffeur. He was your typical middle aged small business owner – first trimester beer belly, bald as a badger and smoked like a locomotive. We hopped in, he dropped the roof with a flick of the left wrist and we went on our way. Five minutes in amidst a heated discussion with a supplier he pulled over and promoted me to pilot..

First thing that hit me, after the realisation that now could be the time to scare him into that pay rise I wanted, was the simplicity of it all. Whereas the supra like in our last bargain buy (which, coincidentally, I owned at the time!) made a point of cocooning you and recreating a feel of a high tech fighter bomber, the MX-5 had a simplicity and comfort like sliding on your favourite pair of slippers. The seating position, low but supportive. Sporty. The wheel at the perfect height, each lever ergonomically reachable. It all added an element of plug and play that you simply don’t get with many modern and lets face it, complicated sports cars. Slam in the clutch and the satisfyingly mechanical gear change homed in on first and we were on the way. Peppy engine with enough poke to prod us back in our seats, open roof leaving us exposed to the elements.

The 50:50 weight distribution is evident as the roads start to get a bit more transverse, and the steering is direct without feeling sharp. The gear change – like a well oiled rifle bolt – no middle earth where you’re in the limbo between the world of the living and accelerating; or the underworld of crunching gears and slowing to a halt. The beauty of the simplicity of the Mex is that reliability comes as standard. The market is awash of higher kilometre examples, but they shouldn’t turn you off too much. Simple routine servicing should see the 1.6, 1.8 and 2.0 work horses into several hundred thousands of happy kms. This particular racing red, black roofed version looked cleaner than a work bathroom. You expect it to be horrific due to the age and sheer number of people using it, but the cleaner has done a great job of ensuring that it smells of pine and sparkles like a dime every morning. Everything was tight despited the 250,000 on the odometer, the few electrics operated quibble free and everything just.. was..

All the above combines to make the Mazda, the icon, every bit of worthy of the accolades it has come to be associated with. There is no better feeling than the lines between man, machine and the outside world being sufficiently blurred leaving nothing more than an overwhelming feeling of motoring satisfaction.

There is a MX-5 for all budgets, from the older aged, early 90’s mk1’s (retro pop-up headlights add a certain charm that we love!) in 1.6 guise, or early to mid 90’s models with face lifted headlights in a 1.6 or 1.8  are all achievable from $5,000 to just under the $7,500 mark. The early versions have aged with a charm that the Toyota MR2 can only dream of; without the awkward engine bay to work in or vague steering. If you can push the budget to around the $19k price point, you can treat yourself to a FSH SE from around 2004. That’s the turbo with around 180bhp, and most likely, some choice mods which will further reduce the mid 6 second 0-100kph sprint time. Whatever the budget, one thing is sure, all models come with a pure driving experience, which is unparalleled.

Until next time..

What better era to pick a selection for an affordable performance machine than the nineties. The nineties is renowned these days for producing a variety of increasingly potent vehicles where performance came on in leaps and bounds, some of which have faded to the dark; and others rising to a somewhat iconic status with a cult following. As an era, it was very much the bridge between technologies of yesteryear and the machines we see today, but there remain some vehicles that still contend with today’s crop of ultra-hatches and cruisey coupes.

Fade back to 1992 and you’ll find Jap muscle which in their day were akin to early versions of what the GTR is to motoring today. Namely; lower cost Japanese cars which with some engineering and a couple of turbos thrown into the mix, can give supercars costing 5 fold the price a run for their money. This example was collected for around 5,000 pounds, or, close to $10,000 AUD which was representative of the average condition

I know, I know, the fist thing that has sprung into your mind is THAT scene from the fast and the furious, roaring after an F355 but there’s valid reason to that. At a time where the crown of performance was the haloed McLaren F1, with the F1 LM claiming an official 0-100kph time of 3.9 seconds, for the most minuscule fraction of the cost, the Supra Twin turbo (manual) did the sprint in .5 seconds slower. I’m not for a second comparing the two, don’t worry I haven’t been sipping the silly juice, but 90’s Jap turbo’s do start to make a case for themselves.

When you click the fob and open the door of the supra, it’s remarkably, well.. Toyota. That isn’t a bad thing, but it means that you don’t get the satisfying clunks synonymous with german build quality. What you do get, in the GZ we have before us, is a surprising blend of rigidity, comfort and outright performance. The chairs, fully electric on the driver’s side suffer the usual bolster wear and feel more vinyl than leather, but do grab and hug you in the right places and take on a simplistic, cocoon-like form. The UK spec Supras featured faster spooling, stronger  steel turbo internals and larger brakes, all of which are common hotspot components for mods. Heated backs are another nice touch that you’d be more familiar with in the 7 series’ of the era. And although the interior and switchgear is very 90’s in feel, the wrap around dash makes you feel that you’re in a car way above its pay grade. Everything cowls towards the driver, perhaps suggestive of the intent behind the supra. Everything is in reach and truth be told, quite ergonomic to interact with. The dash fascia is known to wear on the surface with usage, particularly around the switchgear which isn’t easily repainted due to the plastic-rubber like coating that first needs to be stripped back.

The UK and higher end J-spec models come with a self lowering front splitter which over 60mph lowers, noticeably hunkering the front end down, and across the board there were options from Limited Slip Differentials, auto-folding mirrors, headed electrics, CD changers, the list goes on. Finding an un-molested example is a task in this day and age, with genuine import docs being long misplaced on the most part, but on the good side, they are a modifier’s dream with a Basic Performance Upgrade, or BPU resulting in around 400bhp for very little outlay (extending to a free-flowing, cat-less exhaust, colder spark plugs, boost controller and front mount intercooler). The 6 speed manual, although agricultural, is the pick to go for, but expect to pay for it. That’s not to take anything away from the Autobox which features a ‘manu’ mode allowing for surprisingly responsive manual control of the 4-speed auto box – and kickdown is a hell of a thing!)

On the move, aided by the huge rear wing and deployable front splitter; the supra has oodles of grip for a car of its size and weight. Push too hard and you can make the rear rubber squirm, and knocking the traction control off inevitably amplifies this effect. The first turbo brings a low rev clout that few cars match in day to day life, and the second kicks you in the kidneys to propel you towards the limited 155mph top end. The Supra is every bit a supercar in the same resepct that the GTR is today.

There’s a reason why the 2JZ is loved, with the first turbo kicking in as low as 1800 rpm producing 410nm of torque, and the second kicking in sequentially at around 4,000 rpm, the usable range is spectacularly versatile. My fondest memory of an 18 year old in a Supra, is perhaps the very thing about them that gets you into trouble. A Ferrari 360 tearing down the freeway scooping other commuters out of its path. On overtaking me, a split second of teenage testosterone mixed with a bootfull of kickdown meant that a few seconds later the overtaking Ferrari was pulled back in check, and slowly pulled away from by my mildly fettled Toyota. Childish? Probably. Enjoyable? Absolutely!

For sheer bang for buck pleasures, the Supra seems the perfect place to kick off the Performance Bargain Chronicles. With well used examples here in Australia $12,000, that puts them below the cost of a modern Golf GTI. Whilst a couple of turbos, rwd, and 90’s charm may not be for all, I feel that every petrolhead should have some sort of seat time behind a 2JZ! In fact, so infectious is this effect, that the Full-Chat project build will be based on one. But more about that another time!

Pros:

• Prices can be low
• Some models very well specced
• Solid, Non-interference engine
• Power easy to free up for little outlay
• Futuristic looks turn heads and have aged gracefully

Cons:

• Interiors can be tired
• Hard to find an example with solid history
• Age means turbo components could be coming up for replacement
• ‘Boy Racer’ styling isn’t for all