Driving Back To The Future, In A 1985 Mazda RX-7
Story and photography by Andrew Maness
I recently traveled through space and time, in a 1985 Mazda RX7 GSL-SE. Didn’t need Sci-Fi tropes, either: there was no flux capacitor mounted in the trunk, no tear in the fabric of the universe that I drove into, and no distress call from Vulcan that I was answering. I simply got into the car, put it in gear, pulled out of a parking lot, and boom—traveled through time.
As you may have guessed, the direction of my travel was forward (you most likely would have heard about it already if I’d gone backwards, that kind of thing tends to make the evening news, or at least trend for 15 minutes on Twitter). Going into the future, however, isn’t a particularly big deal, we do it every second of every day, but it’s how we get there that makes the passage of time notable.
How we feel about our means of transportation is more often than not what shapes our memory of the experience. When air travel first reached the masses, every flight was something miraculous, just as riding in a car was front page news in the early 20th century, and taking a train was in the century prior to that. I’m sure the first person to successfully ride a horse didn’t shut up about it until the day they died, and even then, their relatives probably brought it up every chance they got.
The point is that it’s become rare for us to take a moment to appreciate how we’re moving through life because we take our modes of transportation for granted, especially the automobile. It’s not our fault, it’s simply a result of social conditioning, but it’s a rotten trait for humanity to possess, and we should do everything we can to combat it becoming more prevalent.
The best way to do this is to slip into the future…in a classic vehicle. It’s a wholly transformative experience, intimate in ways that driving a new car can’t be, not because of the difference in technology, but because of the baggage that comes with driving a classic. Doesn’t matter if it’s 30 or 80 years old, classic cars are more than a mode of transportation, they’re they’re a piece of history, and that history is in your hands.
When I was at the wheel of the aforementioned RX7, I couldn’t stop thinking about what it must have been like to get into this car in 1985. The oxblood interior, the tall center stack housing a double-din audio system with full EQ adjustments, the soft orange glow of the gauge cluster and the smooth-as-silk rotary purring away underhood; it must have felt like the future had arrived in the form of an affordable two door sports car.
In the hours I spent driving this perfectly-preserved vehicle, I marveled at it’s simplicity, and was thoroughly impressed by how easily it accomplishes what so many modern cars fail to do: completely engage the driver.
Clearly, more attention is required when driving any vehicle with a manual transmission, but if you’ve been doing it for an extended period of time, it’s marginally different than driving an automatic. Had the RX7 not been equipped with three pedals it would have undoubtedly been a little less fun to drive, but I honestly think it would have been just as engaging. The novelty of the pop-up headlights and flowthrough air vents are there regardless of what gear selector is between the seats. Automatic or manual, you’re still looking down the same long sloping hood, cranking open the same sunroof, gripping the same, thin, airbag-less tri-spoke steering wheel. These are things that add up to an engaging drive, and you won’t find them in a new vehicle.
What the RX7 GSL-SE accomplishes with its 135 horsepower rotary engine is nothing short of a miracle, and it’s worthy of every bit of praise. All it takes to understand the validity of that statement is an open mind, and some time spent with one of these Wankel powered coupés. While climbing a steep grade I never wanted for power, I had exactly as much as I needed to get the job done efficiently, and enjoy every minute of it. The descent was the same story as I only needed minimal use of the brakes and optimally ratioed gearbox to bleed away speed accumulated by its lithe chassis.
After a technical section of driving, I’m usually riding a high of adrenaline, and feeling rather aggressive, but not in the RX7. Instead I found myself almost in a meditative state, I was calm, but hyper aware of everything happening around me. If you’ve driven a classic Japanese sports car, you’ll have some idea of what I’m talking about, but there’s something special about the way Mazda does things, and far be it from me to pretend to know exactly what it is.
Get behind the wheel and you’ll feel time start to warp, though, that much I can be sure of. Ideally, you’ll have access to an open area, one devoid of indicators of our era—traffic, speed cameras, new buildings, that sort of thing. The fewer things around to tell your brain it’s 2016, the more you’ll feel the car take over and slowly wind back the clock to 1985. If I’d been better prepared for driving the RX7, I would have brought my Moody Blues Greatest Hits cassette tape, but alas, I wasn’t that on point. Instead I spent the majority of my time searching for a radio signal that wasn’t mostly static; which, in hindsight, was rather appropriate.
As I got back to civilization, the system finally locked in on a classic rock station, and my last bit of time with this pristine machine was spent zipping along the Pacific Ocean with a period correct soundtrack from Van Halen, The Cars, Queen, and Pink Floyd, just to name a few. The sun had set, and the world may as well not have existed beyond the confines of the RX7.
The future no doubt holds some fascinating advances in transportation, but I’m not convinced the same is true for driving, not how we enthusiasts view it, anyway. The more new cars try to emulate old ones, the more I ask myself, why not just opt for the original? Why not go back…to the future?
