What do you consider to be your first car?
For me, three vehicles could potentially lay claim to the title. My vote goes to a 1990 Subaru Legacy LS wagon. Though purchased in May 2001 to be my dad’s winter car, the Legacy captured my heart immediately, and I commandeered it through the following summer. Another contender is a 1990 Dodge Spirit ES, bought for me by my dad in August 2001 to keep me away from the Legacy. Candidate three has its own unique angle, being the first vehicle that I actually selected and purchased with my own earnings.
By the summer of 2002, I was in a bind. The Dodge—already an embarrassment when I first received it—had been rendered “date proof” in a senseless backing accident. The passenger’s side front door had been hyperextended, and my dad’s DIY solution to keep it closed was to drive a drop-forged center punch through the B-pillar and door, effectively deadbolting it for life. With my dad driving his fair-weather 200SX throughout the summer, I had a reasonably easy time stealing the Legacy, but I knew the law would be laid down as temperatures dropped.
I’d worked full-time at an office job that summer and amassed decent savings. With autumn looming, I frantically looked for an alternative car, something affordable that would be fun to drive and allow me to pick up dates with some degree of dignity. Several cars caught my eye, but none worked out. Finally at a small-time used car lot a half hour from home, I saw something intriguing: a 1991 Mazda Protegé DX.
Like other Japanese cars (such as the “Corolla Tercel” and “Stanza Altima”), the Mazda Protegé retained the established name of its predecessor/sibling for its first couple of years.
Right out of the gate, the Protegé satisfied one prerequisite: It was a tidy Japanese subcompact. And although it was a decade old and lacked the style of a mid-’90s Civic or the quiet competence of a Clinton-era Corolla, this Mazda promised a few unique advantages. Most noticeably, the car’s Blaze Red paint beamed off the dealer’s lot as I approached. To someone whose car color tastes tended toward neutral tones, the notion of showing a little brash cheek was irresistible to my inner extrovert. This Protegé also sported a glass sunroof, a feature I always appreciated. Though aftermarket and of the manual flip-up type, the sunroof seemed well suited to the car. And though I’d never been behind the wheel of a Mazda, I always assumed them to excel in the driving fun department.
Walking around the car for a closer look, the Protegé appeared to be in fine shape and, with the exception of the aftermarket sunroof and a set of cheap pseudo-wire wheel covers sourced from some small Chevrolet, quite original, too. Aside from some slight fading on the plastic facia, the paint shone brilliantly. In all, outward appearances were quite respectable.
After the proprietor came out and glad-handed me briefly, he opened up the car. The gray and black interior was tasteful and in nice condition, and everything was just as original inside, including the Mazda stereo. But the interior emphasized the DX’s base status much more emphatically than the exterior. Windows, locks, and mirrors were manual; cruise and air conditioning were absent, and the car lacked countless small features (map lights, a driver’s visor mirror…even intermittent wipers) that I had come to expect on almost any vehicle. The dashboard was replete with plastic delete plugs. Excepting the automatic transmission, which I did not prefer but had come to accept as a practicality, the car was nearly as basic as you could buy in 1991.
Brochure image; my Protegé’s interior was identical except for being equipped with an automatic transmission.
The dealer handed me the keys for a test drive. “You can take it out by yourself; take your time,” he smiled. I guess I looked honest. Or like a sucker.
As a DX model, the car had the less-potent SOHC version of the Protegé’s 1.8L engine, further hobbled by a four-speed automatic. Take-offs were leisurely. But what the car lacked in straight-line acceleration, it made up for in curve-carving prowess. The Protegé’s lightweight, precise steering, and four-wheel independent suspension (with a surprisingly sophisticated twin-trapezoidal link design in the rear), made it certifiably tossable and an absolute joy to drive, even if the car lacked the substantial feel I admired in the Subaru. By the time I pulled back into the dealer’s lot, the Mazda’s spunky personality and simple honesty had won me over. I decided to purchase it.
A few months into my ownership of the Mazda, it had proven itself to be exactly the enjoyable, basic runabout it seemed in the test drive. But had I been less impatient and scrutinized the car properly, I’d have passed on it. Despite the Protegé’s neat outward appearance and lack of corrosion on visible body panels, the underbody was covered in an incredible quantity of coarse rust. Perhaps this was simply typical road salt rot (the car was originally sold by a Mazda dealer in Jamestown, New York), but considering the corrosion I found in such odd places as the seat tracks and underneath the floor-mounted trunk release lever, I wondered if the car might have been sitting in shallow water for a time.
As with many low-specification Japanese cars, the Protegé DX’s spartan gauge cluster featured only a speedometer plus fuel and temperature gauges sharing the space intended for a (missing) tachometer.
The extensive underbody rust meant that the Protegé would not last many years into the future. But like the adolescent I was at the time, I focused on enjoying the car in the present. And truthfully, the Protegé did exactly what I had intended it to do: save face in my last year of high school. Had I then the longer and more pragmatic outlook I have now, I’d have endlessly chided myself for making a bad decision. And I would have completely missed the genuine joy the Mazda brought to me.
As I prepared to depart home for my first year of college in 2003, my dad decided to give me the Legacy. I’m not sure why; perhaps he thought that neither the Spirit nor the Protegé were reliable enough to take so far from home. The Mazda sat idle for most of the following two years, although I enjoyed taking it out occasionally on visits home. Then one day, I said goodbye, and the car was scrapped.
Twenty years later, I can still picture that red Protegé and remember the simple enjoyment of driving it.
I don’t regret that bad decision.
I don’t think I’ve ever read the words “inner extrovert” before. And in a perverse way, that phrase kind of makes sense.
Hi,
I am a loyal reader of “Curbside Classics”.
I was born and I live in France.
This is my first comment.
I was lucky enough to have a brand new car as my first car in 1994 when I got my driver’s license.
I chose a 1994 MAZDA 323 1300 LX three doors in “Tropic Emerald Metallic”, which was the first Japanese car in my family, my parents having only had French or German cars. The name “Protegé” has never been used in France.
I only kept this MAZDA for a year because I didn’t like it at all. This is where we realize that the expectations of American and French drivers are probably not the same.
Immediately after this MAZDA, I bought another brand new automobile, a RENAULT Twingo, which I found to be a hundred times better than the MAZDA, whereas for us in France the RENAULT Twingo is the minimum automobile.
Like yours, my MAZDA had a lot of fake buttons on the dash. Comfort was very poor because it was the base model, without power steering, electric windows or central locking. No paint on the bumpers. The quality of assembly and finish was not impeccable; I expected better. The soundproofing of the 16-valve engine was very poor, it was really painful to drive this car. The car was very poorly damped compared to any French car. And the paint retained traces of drying water drops from its first hand wash throughout its life. In France too, the MAZDA 323 of this generation had unusual rust problems, problems that we had not had for years on the cars of the competition.
In France, at that time, there were still few cars with automatic gearboxes and therefore my MAZDA had a manual transmission.
I have never regretted this car. Buying it was one of the (small) mistakes of my life. I would have done better to buy a cheaper used French car that has power steering, like for example the French version of your Omnirizon, the TALBOT Horizon (last year of production in France: 1985).
Best regards.
” But had I been less impatient and scrutinized the car properly, I’d have passed on it…”
Yes, you, me, and just about any car fan of a certain age who has a “love-at-first-sight” experience when looking at used cars.
Nothing to regret here; it’s more like one of a long series of educational life experiences that all add up to who we are at any subsequent moment in our lives.
Some education is acquired by paying tuition.
Other education is acquired by paying for a car, a mortgage, raising children, paying alimony, and getting large medical bills.
“Twenty years later, I can still picture that red Protegé and remember the simple enjoyment of driving it… “:
While I sold my first paid-for car over 58 years ago, I still “see” it in an occasional dream, sitting in a vacant lot, and needing a lot of work before it can be driven. Then I wake up, feeling very much relieved.
Its only a little money. I say that if you enjoyed the car as you did, were proud of the way at looked, had fun driving it, your dates thought it was OK, and nothing catastrophic or life threating happened because of the rust then you got what you paid for.
If the interior rust was limited to the driver’s footwell area, I’d chalk it up to salt being tracked in from boots during the winter months. I have some of that on my car (which is about as old now as your Protege was then), despite a rust-free exterior.
These were great little cars! (sorry; couldn’t resist).
I was around these a fair bit around that time and my Mom had one as her last car. The leisurely acceleration of nearly every subcompact with an automatic was something that was just a feature we put up with then. S we did with Mazdas and rust.
i had an early 90s protege also but an LX with 1.8 DOHC. sweet motor robbed of potential by an automatic whose only goal in life seemed to be finding and staying in 4th (OD) ASAP and only a full stomp to the firewall got it to kickdown. i had a 92 escort LX-e with the same combo and the same behaviour so maybe it was programmed that way for fuel economy. mine too had a good body but also big flaky rust underneath (PA car), especially rear suspension components, brackets and brake lines. never a problem with those engines and the cars had a nice ride and were easy to service.
I was a big fan of Mazdas of this era. Part of that is because of my own 1988 323, but also I considered them every bit as good as Hondas and Toyotas, at less of a cost. This became particularly true in the used car market, and in the 1990s and early 2000s, when folks would seek my advice on a (usually used) car to buy, I’d often steer them towards Mazdas.
These Proteges were great cars. In fact, a coworker of mine drove a mid-’90s Protege until just recently. I’ve driven several, though all with manuals, so I imagine an automatic would leave a driver wishing for more.
Overall, this seems like a good choice for a first-time car buyer, even with the rust issues.
I am kind of in awe of a high school student who picked something as practical as a base-level Mazda Protoge sedan. I was not capable of such a thing at that age. Instead, I required something I perceived as powerful and a little flashy, even if it was a little old.
I think all of us introverts have a little bit of that inner extrovert in us that comes out when the occasion demands. That is a great term.
Cool car but then I like all Mazdas between 1981-92. I need a few more pictures, interior, of the little red car to do a post on it.
Our 2002 P5 (hatchback version) began a run of a half-dozen new Mazdas, all manual transmissions, all bags of fun to drive. In Minnesota one never sees a rust-free 5 door, however.
That bright red Protege reminds me of the car my mom bought in 1991 as her mid life crisis mobile after my parents divorced. Mom did have the LX with the 16V DOHC and a 5 speed and it was new, which was good because I taught my fiancee how to drive stick in that car since it was more forgiving than my 84 Jetta. Sadly the Protege was rear ended in 94 and totaled, although given Mazda’s rust issues and the amount of salt on the roads in New York it spared the red rocket a death by terminal rust. In keeping with a history of interesting rides, the Protege replaced a VW Rabbit Convertible and was replaced by an ex demo 94 Saturn SL2.
I still fly the red Mazda flag in our CX-5.