Throughout the life of some cars, popularity, performance, cultural relevance, and price can move around as the automotive landscape shifts. This means there’s always a point when cars hit the bottom of their deprecation curve — when they become the most affordable. For most ordinary cars, like the Ford Tempo from earlier in the week, prices drop fairly quickly, hover just above scrap value for a few decades, then see a modest rise as nice examples become historical curiosities and car-show fodder.
Then there are those rare legendary cars who never really fall off that pedestal. They may get outshined by the newer shinier models, but not for very long. After enough time has passed, they shine even brighter. Those characteristics that the newer models, at the time, seemed to improve upon often become these legends’ most prized assets. Many of these vehicles become bargains at some point, briefly, before their prices take a meteoric rise into unaffordability. It seems every enthusiast has one of these cars in their past that got away from them.
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Somehow I lucked out and was able to buy and own a car that was and continues to be legendary: the 1st generation Acura NSX. Was it a low mileage example purchased through some boutique exotic car broker? Nope, this baby had over 160k miles on her, purchased off a buy-now-pay-later car lot and discovered through the illustrious “Nice Price or Crack Pipe” column at Jalopnik. This bedroom poster car cost me the princely sum of $25k, about the price of a newer Honda Civic.
Of course I did the smart thing and bought it sight unseen along with a one way plane ticket, picked it up and drove it across the country. Did I make it home in one piece? Is buying a high mileage exotic car a terrible idea, or did the Honda live up to its reputation? Can money, specifically $25k worth of money, buy happiness? Read on to find out.
New Sports eXperimental
So much ink has been spilled on the NSX that it really needs no introduction. Long story short, Honda revolutionized the supercar game with the aluminum-bodied NSX. In the ‘60s, ’70s, and ‘80s, many supercars got by on raw power and a generous dose of sex appeal. Things like build quality, reliability, ergonomics, and finesse were considered an afterthought. You’d have to do a mild contortionist act to clamber into a cabin whose build quality was just a few notches above a kit car. You may have a tiny pedal box shifted to one side, with the steering column pointing out from another; apparently designed for tiny sclerotic Italians.
To hit 50 thousand miles your supercar probably needed at least one “engine out” service where the specialist mechanics also removed an arm and a leg. This was just considered part of the territory.
Honda came out of nowhere with the NSX in 1990. Here was a car with exotic looks and performance with the legendary reliability Honda was renowned for. A normal-sized human could sit in and operate the thing comfortably. It could be serviced at any one of the thousands of Honda dealers across the country. It also had Ayrton Senna’s approval. A similar vintage Ferrari or Lamborghini hitting 160k miles was pretty much unheard of. This pushed the competition to step up their game.
I Wasn’t Doing Great
I think it’s important to establish where I was at mentally when I made this purchase. I was definitely at a low point in my life. I had just gotten divorced. It was amicable but still a very sad situation. We sold our house and I was renting a small two-bedroom place right next to a train crossing by 9 mile road just north of Detroit. I was diagnosed with severe depression and spent my evenings drinking and smoking too much while watching Norm McDonald Live on YouTube. I’d stumble up the narrow wooden steps and go to bed, only to be woken up every morning at 2:30 AM as the sadistic train conductor laid on his horn for 30 seconds as the locomotive rolled through my backyard. It was not a great time.
My automotive fleet was in similar shape. My daily driver was a manual E39 528it wagon with over 200k miles under its belt. Being an E39, it was fantastic and crappy at the same time. The brittle plastic nest of evap and emissions system hoses was crumbling, as were many of the suspension bushings that I later had to replace. I rebuilt the VANOs system, changed wheel bearings, had a spark plug yeet itself into the ignition coil, which promptly melted. At one point I was starting it with a screwdriver instead of a key.
I had a 300,000 mile E30 whose engine I removed to swap in a Ford 5.0L I’d purchased out of a junked Explorer. I realized later the BMW’s body was so compromised that the V8’s prodigious torque would’ve ripped the axle from its moorings in a cloud of rust flakes. There was also a non running 1957 Lincoln Premiere parked behind my friend’s hot glass studio. This would eventually be sold over FaceTime to a guy in Quatar of all places.
Nice Price, No Crack Pipe
So obviously adding a high-mileage 90’s super car to this lovely fleet made perfect sense. I remember, during my morning ritual of reading the old lighting site, I opened the Nice Price or Crack Pipe column and saw my dream car staring back at me. A gorgeous Brooklands Green 1994 NSX with newly recovered tan leather seats; it was irresistible. I had a little bit of money from selling the house and needed a more reliable car — a Honda with 160k miles is just broken in! $25k isn’t an insignificant amount of money, but it was still cheaper than a new VW Golf. The logic totally checks out.
The article’s commenters noted a hit on the CarFax for a “low speed accident.” I called the dealer to investigate. The salesman who answered seemed slightly bewildered. This was a small lot with maybe 20 cars, and they’d been getting inundated with calls since the article was published. I convinced him I was serious enough, so he emailed me scans of the service receipts. The same shop had been working on the car for the past 10 years so I gave them a call. The mechanic instantly knew what car I was talking about and had good things to say. Apparently one of the techs accidentally backed into the NSX while it was parked in their garage, which explained the ding on the CarFax. At that point I was sold. I sent a deposit to the dealer and booked a one way ticket to Greensboro, North Carolina.
I remember my anxiety rising as I got off the plane and hailed a taxi to the dealership. I was 700 miles away from home with no real backup plan. Sure it’s a Honda, but it’s also a supercar. I plotted a route home that took full advantage of the fantastic roads in the area. If I broke down on some remote mountain road I’d be SOL.
Besides my childhood bedroom poster, I had seen maybe one NSX in person in my life before I got out of the taxi at the dealership. When I saw it parked among the smattering of normal used cars, it was surreal. The low slung body that still looks modern today, super wide tires and the signature light bar beneath its subtle wing. I couldn’t believe I would be driving away in this gorgeous machine. The most exotic thing I had driven up to that point was a C5 Corvette. This was on another level.
The test drive was almost a formality. I’ll admit I was kind of scared as I drove it a mile down the street and back, but it moved under its own power, didn’t have any strange sounds or smells, and everything besides the radio seemed to work. Time to sign the papers and get out of Dodge. I pinched myself when the dealer gave me the keys. How did this happen?
A Once in a Lifetime Drive
I drove it quite gingerly the first dozen or so miles. When I buy a new old car I’m very paranoid at first, senses heightened looking for any sign of impending failure. But as I continued on and the roads got twisty these senses were awashed in feelings I had never experienced in a car before. The NSX was giving me confidence, egging me to push it harder and harder.
To someone who had never driven an exotic car, the NSX was a delight to drive on every level. I sat very low to the ground, my eye level below the door handles of most modern cars. The dash is covered in stitched leather and leans away from the driver, emphasizing the airiness of the the cabin. The instrument cluster is basic and business like, very easy to read. All the controls were right at my fingertips on stalks next to the steering wheel, minimizing the time my hands needed to be off the wheel. Once again, this was clearly serious business.
Outward visibility is among the best I’ve ever experienced. The windshield wraps around the driver and the nose of the car dives towards the pavement. It seems like you should be able to see the tips of your toes out the front of the car. At the same time the muscular haunches making up the fenders are visible so I could easily place where the front wheels are at all times, while still seeing the road directly ahead.
Above all the NSX is all about tactile sensations, with no filter between the driver and the car’s behavior — it’s very direct, and it feels great. The steering is manual, a raw stream of information from the front tires. It’s appropriately heavy, especially at low speeds, but it tells the driver exactly what the car is doing. The seats hugged my body and it felt like the car rotated around me. I had never driven a mid engine car, and knew academically (I’m an engineer) the inertial effects of having hundreds of pounds of engine hanging out between the front wheels in the typical cars I drove in the past. With the engine nestled behind my seat, the car seemed to change direction effortlessly. It was a revelation.
The accelerator pedal felt like it had a direct line to the engine, because of course it actually does. No electronic pedal here. I could feel the vibrations of the revs climbing beneath my feet. The gearbox is the sweetheart of the NSX. Even though the leather on the shift knob was peeling off, I could feel that hint of gear mesh vibration increasing and decreasing with speed. The shift action felt precise but not notchy. It had the least rubbery-ness of any manual I’ve driven. Like the rest of the car it felt like it was made with precision and care. Honda is known for its manuals, and the NSX is probably one of the best the company has made.
Before my flight I looked up some twisty backroads to travel on the way home. I wanted to minimize boring freeway driving as much as possible, and ended up on the Blue Ridge Parkway. I had four or five hours before sundown, and it was just a blast putting the NSX through its paces. Even when there was occasional traffic, the driving experience was so novel I had fun even at slower speeds.
I stopped for a quick dinner at a random brewpub, then pressed on. Soon it was pitch dark and I was driving on mountain roads. The NSX’s headlights are plenty effective for an early 90’s car — the brights especially, but it’s not like they turn with the steering. In the mountains it was pitch dark. With the twists and turns I was either looking at a craggy rock wall, ready to shred the car with the slightest mistake, or I was looking at vast empty space beyond the guardrail. I figured the driving would be a lot more fun if I could actually see where I was going so I found the nearest motel.
It was kind of a shady, run-down place that looked like it was lost in time. My room came complete with wood paneling and shag carpeting. It would’ve felt like the perfect set for a horror movie if the old lady at the counter wasn’t so sweet with her Southern charm. I accidentally set off the car alarm while unpacking the car, and let me tell you: the NSX’s horn is LOUD AF!! It startled the crap out of me. I felt conspicuous enough parking this exotic-looking machine at a dumpy hotel; waking everyone up didn’t help.
The next morning I soldiered on through bucolic countryside. A mist hung low over the lush scenery of vintage barns and wooden fences. I was still somewhat in disbelief that this gorgeous machine was mine. Even though the car had over 160k miles, it didn’t drive like it at all. Sure the shifter leather was peeling, the radio didn’t work very well, the clear coat on that front passenger fender was fading, and it looked like someone tried to seal the reverse lights in the rear light bar with silicone; but none of that mattered. Compared to what I’d been driving up to that point, these issues were nothing.
Eventually, the curvy mountain roads were over and it was straight highway miles back to Detroit. After all this dancing through amazing roads with the NSX it was nice to just sit with it, chill, and think about life for a bit. The previous several months I was just a hollow shell with no future in front of me. No joy or enthusiasm for anything, robotically going through the motions of living just enough that I still got a paycheck and didn’t get evicted and thrown out on the street. I finally FELT something, took a risk and went on an adventure. I snatched this dream out of the dark and realized: I used to have these and I’m living one now! Cars can be therapy.
A Reliable Supercar?
So did the NSX live up to its reputation for Honda reliability? I’ve never owned a high mileage vintage Ferrari but I’d bet money I did pretty well compared to the NSX’s competitors. First thing I had to do was do a timing belt service. There was no record of one having been done, and with an interference engine, I didn’t want to make an expensive mistake. I avoid dealer service departments like the plague — I’d rather do the work myself or take my cars to a trusted Indy mechanic. For the NSX, I didn’t want to screw around, and figured an important job like this being done by certified Acura mechanics would be worth the price.
The dealer staff were excited to take a break from their boring TLXs and RLXs when my new car rolled into the shop. The techs also replaced a couple ignition coils that were going bad when they were in there. I was out a couple grand, which stung the pocketbook, but you gotta pay to play. Unlike a similar vintage Italian car, dealerships are everywhere and service is comparatively cheap.
Next was the interior. NSX trim is known for wrinkling like a raisin, and it bugged me. The door handle cubbies were also scratched from 20 years of hands reaching in there. I removed the trim and stripped/sanded off the wrinkly top layer and repainted it. It didn’t exactly match the dark grey it came with but was pretty close and looked a lot better.
The shift knob leather looked like a baseball that got the stuffing knocked out of it and had to go. I replaced it with a NSX-R replica knob. It was weighted metal and felt great in the hand. If there ever were a way to improve upon shift-perfection, this was it.
I installed a cold air intake. The red metal tube went through a hole in the engine bay to a cavity where the side air vent leads. The V6 already sounded wonderful, but that added throatiness from the intake plus the aftermarket exhaust this NSX came with made its V6 sing.
Tires were also a problem, specifically the rears which were nearly bald. Driving in the wet, the rubber had no grip and would spin, causing the rear end to step out. It was a bit scary. The rear wheels on an NSX are surprisingly wide for the amount of power the car makes (~250 HP), so tires are expensive. I didn’t have it in me to deal with this at the time so the car sat for a couple months. Eventually someone posted a photo of the car sitting sadly in the driveway in one of the local car groups. I got called out! Deservingly!
This gave me the motivation to drag my ass to a tire shop and get some new ones fitted. I took it for a spin and someone else took photos and posted it to the same car group with a much happier caption. Redemption.
Side note, I remember that photo being taken because the kids in that SUV were losing their minds when they saw the car. This is a common occurrence with the NSX. Wherever you drive, people will notice it. If they don’t know what it is they’ll ask if it’s the new Corvette. If they are car people they’ll gester excitedly, drive alongside you swerving around, ask a bunch of questions. I thought it was fun because I’d do the same thing.
Candy Paint Drippin
The last thing I dealt with was the paint. That front fender was peeling badly. A wheel rack came off the wall of my garage, which could’ve been a huge disaster but only left a scratch in the door. The rest of the car had 160k miles of scuffs and scratches. A buddy of mine painted cars and offered to get the NSX looking like new. For the amount of work he did I got a killer deal, about $1800 all in for the whole car. He told me to call him if I ever decided to sell it, and ended up buying the car from me a couple years later. Maybe he knew it would eventually be his and went the extra mile.
It obviously wasn’t a concourse-quality paint job, but for the price he did awesome work. The peeling paint on the fender had made the NSX look a little clapped out, which was a little embarrassing for a car of this caliber. Now the dark Brooklands Green paint shined brightly. The NSX was looking gorgeous again.
I Took it to the Track
Although every drive in the NSX was special, nothing really lived up to that first drive home in the mountains. If you read my Lincoln Continental article, you heard me bloviate about Detroit’s endless, ruler-straight, cratered roads. It’s hard to enjoy the benefits of a mid-engine layout when you rarely have to turn the steering wheel. Luckily a college buddy of mine is in a club called “3 Balls Racing” who rent out local tracks for track days complete with ride-along instructors. I joined them at Waterford Hills for a day and it was definitely worth it.
I slapped a Go-Pro on the car for one of the laps, and you can get an idea of how great this engine sounds. Luckily I didn’t record an embarrassing incident where I overcooked it and went off the track, tearing off the front spoiler. It was only my second time driving on a track and I was excited; it can happen to anyone right? Getting to really push the car in a safe, controlled environment was an unforgettable experience.
The NSX looked a little odd without the spoiler so I bought a used aftermarket one that was a little more aggressive. I fixed the cracks and painted it the factory color in the garage. I think it went a long way to beefing up the NSX’s looks.
Final Thoughts
The NSX and I created a lot of great memories. That initial cross-country drive through the mountains, Woodward Dream Cruises, meeting awesome car people, pushing it on the track, taking friends and family for rides. I got a speeding ticket on a sustained, high speed run across Michigan’s empty highways in the middle of the night trying to beat a thunderstorm that would’ve washed out my bald rear tires. It was dumb, and not something I would do today, but it was a hell of an experience.
Unfortunately in the end the car did a lot of sitting in the garage. I would take it to car shows and drive it around for fun occasionally, but with our pockmarked roads and distracted, crazy drivers I always worried about it getting damaged. Being accustomed to sub $10k beaters, I’ve never owned a vehicle so nice or historically significant. It was always fun to drive, but my anxiety was often high behind the wheel.
Also with our grid road system, I never felt like the NSX was in its element. This car is all about sensations. The detailed feelings you’d get through the steering wheel as you guide the car through a turn; the weight transferring through the chassis, the flexing of the rubber, the articulation of the suspension, any imperfections or changes in the road surface. That is everything with the NSX. I was only doing occasional low-speed, 90-degree turns at stop signs and stoplights. It’s like experiencing Mad Max in a crowded IMAX theater, then watching it again on an airplane movie screen with their crummy headphones. The car wants to carve up some windy back roads, you feel it every time you sit in its beautiful bucket seats.
If I lived in those mountains I’d definitely still have the car. But one day that friend who painted the car made an offer on it, and I needed some cash at the time, so it went to a new good home. Prices weren’t anywhere the sky-high level they are now, but I made about $5k after you take out all I put into it — a personal car-profit record. Usually I’m way in the red.
Either way, I’m lucky the timing was right that I got to experience this car while it was in that brief window at the bottom of the depreciation curve. NSX prices have ridden to stratospheric levels on sites like Bring A Trailer (the floor seems to be about $60,000). But that isn’t the metric the NSX demands to be measured by. Thankfully I had a chance to experience that firsthand.
Great cars, but having gone to school in Detroit, I can see why you’d move that kind of car on. I had a shitbox early ’80s Subaru with impact bumpers, sturdy suspension, and ground clearance, which is about the right kind of vehicle for that environment (unless rammed by a rotted ’70s malaise GM junker blowing a red across Woodward at about 80 mph, though I’m not sure what wouldn’t suck in that situation).
I used to live about 1.5 miles from a train station and could hear them from my yard idling when changing passengers. I live at least 4 miles straight line from a rail line now and can hear the f’n horn from wherever it is they’re using it (crossing might even be farther away), well into the night (thankfully not enough to wake me up). I can’t imagine living close to that and that alone can’t be good psychologically. The noise level of the horns is beyond excessive for purpose and nobody’s safety is worth the damage to the surrounding people, certainly not whatever loser would be on the tracks and too stupid to see, hear, or feel a train.
If someone’s going to suicide, I don’t see how the horn does anything but say, “get ready!” unless the volume is enough to physically blow them off the tracks. A horn, OK, but in no world does anyone need to be able to hear the horn miles away through a built up area. If I could hear and feel my house vibrate when they were merely idling at a station 1.5 miles away through suburbs of trees, houses, and varying topography, I wouldn’t call them difficult to be aware of. I guess on an academic level I can understand that normal people would be disturbed by a train strike, though it’s not like the engineer cleans the train after as it’s hazmat and I don’t see how the passengers would see much or anything unless it was traveling car-first, but I’ll take your word for it. Still doesn’t need to be that loud.
An audio alert is one thing, but I just can’t agree that everyone in a populated area within at least a four mile radius needs to hear it every time the train passes a crossing even when nobody is there. If someone wants to die by train, the horn isn’t stopping them and they’re not necessarily going to do it at a crossing where they’d attract attention hanging around waiting (and all the strikes I’ve heard of were people walking the tracks that weren’t at a crossing). If they see someone, sure blast it, but the frequent blasting at those volumes, especially at night when there’s nobody to warn, are a mental health issue to the people near it, not least for the disturbed sleep that comes from late night blaring, reminiscent of a tactic used in war to grind down an opponent’s personnel. I wish they’d put in the crossing arms and warnings and not need the horn.
Thankfully, when I lived about a block from a crossing, the neighborhood/city/whoever was able to get an exemption for the horn rule and nobody got hit there, though the line ran alongside a fairly tall bridge and people seemed to choose that option a couple times a year to attempt suicide (all the times they actually heard they jumped, they survived as the bridge was apparently at least borderline on height, though I sure as hell wouldn’t want to test it).
Great read! The car is a beauty and I’m glad you saved it from that car lot, and then passed it on to someone else who’d enjoy and maintain it. You even let it stretch its legs (Waterford is a really fun track too).
Thanks!
The question you don’t answer is: did it get voted nice price or crack pipe?
It’s pretty obvious from the article what your take is 😉
Haha, I’ve definitely been accused of smoking crack for selling it, but NP all the way.
I feel like Acura could re-introduce this thing and just update some of the interior items to 2024 standards and it would sell better than it did back when it first launched.
They tried, and instead they made it way too complicated and way too expensive and made it uglier.
and they didn’t offer the excellent manual transmission these were known for
Well, that’s what I’m saying. Re-introduce….exactly this car, but with an updated infotainment.
I feel that way about a lot of Hondas. Make the EF or EG civic hatch again, only with modern materials to make it safer, but make all the suspension parts compatible, hell make the motor mounts compatible with B and K swaps and whatnot. People would buy them.
We can only dream
Kind of reminds me of my aircooled 911 experience. I bought mine for what is now an absurdly cheap price, but this was back in 2012 or so, when you could find a clapped out but mechanically sound 74-77 mid year with a bunch of race car parts on Pelican forums for 12-15 grand. I took mine to a porsche specialist to get an inspection, and the car needed a ton of work… so I showed the owner the inspection, how much things cost to make it right, and offered half of what he was asking.
At the time, I wanted either an aircooled 911 OR 1st gen NSX. For a while, I considered selling the 911 to afford an NSX, but man, that ship has SAILED my friends.
Steve, if you are still friends with the guy who painted your car for only $1800, you should start a full time business of buying nice cars from the southwest with poor paint jobs, and paying $1800 to have a professional paint job. Generally decent paint jobs START at 10k, so the fact you paid less than 2 is literally crazy than the rest of the story.
Edit: I still want one, but I want a salvage title NSX with a crap paint job. My experience with the 1st gen insight in salty midwest winters makes me want an all aluminum car for winter; a beat up NSX with rally tires and lights sounds amazing
Do you still have the 911? Sounds sweet. I definitely got the friends and family discount on that paintjob. It was in over 10 years ago dollars but still. I think he knew he’d get the car eventually so he went all out. I don’t think he’s doing that anymore unfortunately.
Yup, it’s pretty much my daily when there isn’t salt on the road and it’s not a long trip.
Thanks for the info. A few years ago they updated that crossing so they no longer have to lay on the horn when they roll through there. It’s right next to a rail yard to that intersection often gets blocked for hours at a time.
This article makes me want to throw caution to the wind and do something similar, but with my luck I’d be stranded before I got to the sketchy motel.
I had a buddy fly out to buy a v8 RS4 and pull the plug because the car was in waaaay worse shape than the ad led him to believe.
I had a different buddy buy an S6 wagon that blew a turbo halfway between Denver and Lincoln (so literally the middle of nowhere), so 900 miles or so away from home in Michigan.
So yeah, there are risks before and after for these kinds of purchases.
Didn’t stop me from going to BaT and bidding on a 300TD in San Diego right before the pandemic and hoping their legendary reliability could get me back to NY.
My neighbor has a 2000 version in red. He keeps it perfect, factory OEM on everything. He doesnt drive it much but when he does take it out, he comes around the neighborhood like an ice-cream man offering rides to all of the gearheads around here.
I am 6’5″ and found it amazing that i could sit in this car. Not sure if i could drive it with the wheel and my knees, but its the best I have ever fit in an “exotic”
As a fellow tall person (I’m about 6’ 3” with more leg than torso) and lover of fun cars, I found the joy in rear/mid engine cars fairly late in life.
In hindsight it makes sense. Engine in the back leaves so much space to stretch the legs forward. Who knew?!?
Funny enough, I was lucky enough to one get to sit in a Ferrari Testarossa (the 80’s one, not the 60’s racecar) and for all the auto-journo ink spilled on how big and fat it was, it offfered a surprisingly accomdating amount of room for tall folks both in leg room and head room (for you know, and 80’s exotic)
As someone who could now afford an NSX when they were at the bottom of their depreciation curve, but couldn’t afford them at the time, it is immensely satisfying to read that a real, non uber-wealthy enthusiast got lucky and was able to experience that magnificent machine.
It also sounds like you got rid of it for good reasons and that it went to a good home. These cars were made to be driven. It isn’t sad to see a scruffy one parked in a driveway for wont of new tires. It’s sad to see low mileage ones parked in a personal collection that never get driven.
Thanks! That’s a good point. You see a lot of super low mile NSX’s changing hands on BAT. You do feel kind of bad for those cars, they were meant to be driven.
Great piece, Steve. I really captured the emotions you rode through your ownership of the car. If you need some good roads to drive on, you need to come on out west of Ann Arbor and drive out here 🙂
Thanks! I’ve heard about those roads but need to make the trip out there.
Great read! You pulled off a heck of a Hail Mary with that one!
Thanks! Looking back I do feel lucky it worked out.
I had cross-shopped NSXs when I bought my first Elise in 2013 or so. At the time, price was near parity, 30kish for an 2005 Elise or an early NSX. NSXs easily doubled while Elises were flat for the longest time, and only recently have gone up. No regrets though, I wanted lightweight analog, and hard to beat the Lotus for that. The NSX is definitely a better all arounder for sure though.
The Elise is on my bucket list of cars to drive. Either one would be an excellent choice.
If you’re ever in NY, feel free to take mine for a whirl! It feels much more toy like (in both the positive and negative connotations) compared to an NSX or 911s, but horses for courses.
My first Audi, a 4000cs, was my therapist. I spent hours both in and under that car, rally proofing the undercarriage. Simpler times
Also my first Audi! 4000cs quattro, bright red. Loved that car. It wasn’t my personal therapist but it probably paid for most of my mechanic’s therapy.
Great story!
I’d daily driven various MR2s for a decade but an NSX was my dream car, and I’d saved and saved and got divorced and homeless and saved and saved and just when I’d got nearly enough for a tatty high-mileage car they ended production and the UK prices nearly doubled overnight.
Nuts.
Then I bought my S1 Lotus Elise Sport 160. It was wonderful.
It was the first genuinely nice car I’d owned, and I struggled with anxiety too. It also had tatty green paint, and I was also internet shamed, but for having the hard top on in summer (I bought it to drive, not to get tanned in, FFS internet).
My lottery-win cars are still an NSX and an FD RX7.
It’s true, a fun car is great therapy. They don’t have to be expensive either. My MGB was around $5000 and my Miata’s were around $10,000. I enjoy my commute and often go into the office on days I could work from home, just because I enjoy the drive so much.
Great article, I enjoyed it.
Thanks! I used to have an MG midget and every drive was an event. Always good when your car can put a smile on your face.
Why does the title reference “before they exploded in value” and yet the article is completely missing any actual date reference? Kind of infuriating for those of us trying to put ourselves in the context of when this was.
It’s 2015 for those of you wondering, based on the link to NPOCP.
Sorry about that! Good point a date would’ve helped.
I’d take this car on CA-299 between Redding and Eureka. What a blast that would be! Nothing but twists and turns and elevation changes.
Great article! More like this, please.
Thanks!
Great read!!! Thanks.
Thank you!
Waterford Hills is the perfect track for a car that handles well. Sounds like the car was a lot of fun at just the right time in your life.
I too have bought excellent cars when I was at low points. Twice when I was near rock bottom I have purchased a Miata, and both times it made a hell of a difference for me and my mental health.
It’s amazing what a fun car can do
It really is. I have a similar write up that I drafted months ago that I keep thinking about pitching to the site, “How Miatas saved me. Twice.” I’ll have to wait a bit now haha.
You were at Pastieners!
I try to make it out there a few times a year. You never know what you’ll see there.
What a color!
Green is always the best color on a car imho
Cars are great salves for damaged souls. I bought a C6 to repair mine after my divorce. An associate of mine has owned an NSX since new. They are fantastic cars. If I was a bit smaller than than a defensive tackle 6’5” I’d have bought one.
Howdy former neighbor! I used to live a half mile north also right next to that same rail line. I finally let myself buy something I actually wanted, instead of a compromise; a low mileage used Civic Si, just a few weeks ago. I had definitely underestimated how it feels to have something you actually wanted instead of close enough because that’s what you could get, thanks for sharing your story and I hope things are going better for you these days.
Thanks! What year Civic did you get? Those SIs are fun little cars. I’m definitely doing better these days, I appreciate the comment.
I got a 2013 sedan W/NAV, wanted something modern, but still analog, non-turbo, and four door to haul my teenage boys around. This one only has 57K miles on it, and unmodified. I spent years looking for something in my price range that wasn’t near end of life, or modded to death. Now my ’03 LX can live up to it’s bad ideas potential.
Glad things are better!