Sunday 27 September 2020

Car of the Week - Week 104: Mazda 787B

"It's very simple to judge a racing car; if it wins, it's good. If not, it's bad. Quite literally nothing else matters in a racing car." That's what I always say in my reviews when the subject is a racing car. By that line of reasoning, the 787B is a good racing car.

In fact, it is as good a racing car as I am bad with dry humour. It's no secret by now I'm a bit of a Mazda fan, and to me, the 787B is the single most influential and sensational of racing cars; it was the first ever Japanese car to ever win the grueling 24 Hours of Le Mans race outright, and for 27 long years, was the only Japanese car to do so. It still remains to this day as the only non-conventional piston engine car to win the event, amidst a fairy tale like story of last chances, decades of effort and preparation, befuddling politics, and of course, utterly ridiculous luck that would make even the most imaginative of harem authors wince.

As a result of these highly unusual breakthroughs, Mazda fans will slap its instantly iconic, recogniseable from a mile away orange and green RENOWN (RIP) livery on any Mazda, from Demios, to Roadsters, to RX-8s. Mazda themselves won't stop hogging the number "55" in all their racing cars, both fictitious and real, and you can be as sure to find the word "Mazda" brochures of any Mazda car as the words "787B", "Rotary Engine", "pioneer", "Jinba-Ittai", "never stop challenging", and "1991 24 Hours of Le Mans". Rotary Engine fans, often mocked for the unreliability of their cars, need only point to the 787B and say, "they're reliable if you take care of them, bro!"

The 787B is so historically and culturally significant, that to this day, it's still being maintained, put on display at Mazda's Museum in Hiroshima (tours in English are entirely free, by the way), and brought out for demonstration runs in fan events as recently as 2019. Mazda as a company has always been largely defined by the Wankel Rotary Engine, and the "2616cc" R26B Naturally Aspirated 4 Rotor in the 787B is THE definitive, granddaddy of Wankel Rotary Engines, and so it should stand to reason as well that the 787B is simply THE definitive Mazda as a result, which is why I've chosen to review this car in celebration of Mazda's centennium this year.


No dialogue about the Wankel Rotary Engine will be complete without mentioning the sound it makes... and the abysmal low end torque... and the weak apex seals... the "devil's scratch marks" caused by said apex seals on the housings of the engine... and heating issues... and how it drinks oil with almost the same ferocious thirst as actual gasoline... and the incompletely burnt carbons churning out the exh- look, we'll get to those in due time, okay? The SOUND of this thing... is utterly ungodly. Being an engine that operates on an entirely different principle of internal combustion, it of course sounds like nothing else on the road or grid.


I could tell you how sharp, baleful, and impatient it sounds. I could describe to you how it sounds like a maniacal, cackling, benevolent god writhing in self pleasure at its own comically devious plots when simply idling at a standstill. I could describe to you how insanely loud it is, that even on most wide open racing tracks, the sheer dimensions of noise that erupt from that tiny little "2.6L" package would reverb and echo off what little structure there is on a racing track. I could speak metaphorically about how guzzling and angry it sounds, shrieking with a woeful vengeance as though it wants to rend the air itself asunder with each approach to its redline. And Volker Weidler, one of the three drivers that drove the #55 car to overall victory in 1991, will probably also tell you that it made him deaf in one ear. But honestly, why would I waste my words and your time, trying to describe something that every motorsport fan needs to hear at least once in their lives?

And that, right there, is one of the very many reasons why I will never bother with F1.

So, with all that said, securely put on your earplugs, make sure you're comfortably seated, fasten your racing harnesses, close your eyes, take a deep breath and utter a prayer, because I'm about to tell you that...

The Mazda 787B is a load of crap in Gran Turismo Sport.

I am never ever going to get back into the good graces of the folks at Mazda after this, am I...?

If you were expecting a Le Mans winning car to exhibit acrobat like agility and flexibility, with the eagerness of a kitten on catnip chasing after a laser pointer dot held by a drunkard, you'd be right... twenty years later. As a whole, Group C cars seem to me like they emphasise straight line stability and ease of driving above all else - which makes sense in a 24 hour endurance event split between just three drivers. As a result, the 787B handles like a freight train - it can and will go fast as all hell, but good luck getting it to stop and turn.


It should perhaps come as a surprise then, to learn that the 787B weighs in at only 830kg (1,830lbs), comes with carbon composite brakes, and enough frontal area to write this entire review on. If those figures aren't enough to shock your Category 2 wheel spats off, then perhaps the weight distribution figure will: despite it's rear mid engine layout, the 787B has a 49:51 front to rear weight split, according to Gran Turismo 6.


Despite the turn-in lethargy I feel every corner that is more befitting a derailed freight train than a prototype racing car, it's still difficult for me to believe the weight distribution figure, especially when you consider the 100 litre tank of fuel sits snug in the very safe, balance conscious, performance oriented space between the cockpit and the howling engine.


What's exactly is so heavy in the nose of the car, that weighs almost as much as the engine, the towering rear wing, the gearbox, the diff, the full 100 litres of fuel, entire lakes of coolant and oil a 700HP Rotary needs, and two radiators all combined?


One BIG BOI radiator, apparently:


Whatever the cause of the very odd nose heaviness of the 787B, it is excruciatingly unwilling in the turn-in of every corner. It's not exactly unable, per se, but it will really make you wrestle and wrangle it to get it to meet with the apex of every corner. And I really do mean to wrestle and wrangle, as there is no power steering in the 787B to help you twist any of the 300mm section front tyres to do your bidding. With the comically huge rear wing, long wheelbase, even larger 355mm section tyres in the rear, AND the suspension setup biased towards understeer, every corner entry really does feel like you have to put the Twin-Tube Carbon-Kevlar Monocoque chassis into a Crucifix Neck Crank to get it to turn, and it will flex, twist, and writhe in agony despite being lauded for its torsional rigidity back in the day - this is a near 30 year old car, after all.


But, you know, perhaps it's a good thing that the steering is so heavy, because how else would you know that your front wheels are planted to the ground? While the lack of power steering does make turning the car feel more like arm wrestling a bear, it's somehow just as uncommunicative and lacking in feedback as well. You wouldn't even guess the heft in the steering at speed just by looking at it, because not only does the front end look lacking in downforce, but the rear end of the car is absolutely STACKED with aero bits: A wing wide enough for an adult to comfortably sleep on is entirely overhung from the rear for the maximum see-saw effect to lift the front end up, supplemented by not one, but TWO Gurney Flaps, one on the wing and one at the edge of the main body.


Oddly enough, the car has shocking amounts of aerodynamic grip through the speedy twists and turns of Toukyo East and Kyotou Yamagiwa, despite looking like it shouldn't. I'm not sure what exactly is generating the downforce up front, but nonetheless, the car's personality does a complete 180 at these high speed sweepers, belying every expectation it has planted in you at lower speeds and exhibiting immediate neck snapping turn in, almost as though engaging 5th gear transforms this granddaddy Group C car into a modern LMP1 car (RIP that too).


Unfortunately, it just about seems to straddle the line between "relying on the black magic that is downforce and go in balls out at downright reckless speeds with only the blind faith that only more speed can make everything better", and "HOLY CRAP TURN TURN TURN I REGRET EVERYTHING IN MY LIFE WHY DID I LISTEN TO THIS DUMB ASIAN KID ON THE INTERNET WHO ISN'T EVEN BEING PAID TO WRITE REVIEWS?!" You never really know how the car will behave and react in these high speed corners every time after you chuck it in, as one moment, it will have shocking, unbelievable grip, and the next, it's understeering into a wall. Because of how quickly it switches between these two extremes with almost no communication, it's just a question of "which all are you hitting, the inside or the outside?" This ambiguity and snapping between extremes I theorise is due to the car having the downforce to carry itself through, but the tyres feel and sound so out of alignment that they can't even take advantage of all that weight pressing over them, causing them to let go immediately with no warning once they hit a completely arbitrary tipping point, and with how fast the misaligned tyres burn themselves as a result of all that slipping and scrubbing, good luck sussing out that tipping point each lap.


Yes yes, XSquare's whining about the default suspension setup again in a game he loathes but still religiously plays in spite of that yadda yadda I know I'm a hypocrite shut up we're here for a car review not a person review.

The alignment, spring rates, ride height... everything is wrong in the car, because Gran Turismo Sport slaps on a "one size fits all" setup onto all racing cars according to categories. I of course don't have the correct numbers, because I don't work for Mazda (yet......). But it doesn't take knowing what's right to know that this setup is wrong. For starters, it scrapes on the Mulsanne Straight, and you will very clearly hear the front inside tyre scrubbing and screaming more than the outside at every corner. This not only hurts the cornering speeds of the 787B greatly, but it also causes the tyres to burn at such a ridiculous rate that no two laps of Le Sarthe can be driven with the same braking points or lines... on Hard tyres... at 1x wear... on a track that has you on full throttle 85% of the time. You will be visibly limping with this car just on the second lap alone with tyre wear on. I have NEVER felt tyre wear this bad in my entire life!


As a result of this... very convenient suspension setup and stability inclined aero, the car understeers for days on end, from corner entry to exit. It also has the aforementioned lethargy in slowing down, requiring a markedly longer distance to come to a stop than its Group C peers, despite being the lightest car in Group 1 by quite some margin. The stability inclined setups do at least mean that you'll have a very easy and assured time putting down power though, especially because the NA engine will never surprise you, and will only give you exactly what you ask of it. It's just... sometimes, you'll be surprised at how much you've asked of the engine when it gives you exactly what you've asked for in a full, ten course meal of explosive power, seasoned with unhealthy amounts of understeer. This is not just the single most understeery MR racing car I've driven to date - it's the single most understeery MR car I've driven. Full stop. As previously mentioned, this is more a Rotary Powered freight train than a car.


Truly, the only good thing about the 787B is its engine, which defies every expectation and reputation to be something that's genuinely astounding. Rotary Engines, especially the ones without forced induction to patch up its woeful low end torque, have always been known to be peaky engines. But, because the 4 Rotor R26B has telescopic intake runners that varies intake length according to engine revs to achieve some type of witchcraft called resonance supercharging or something, the powerband on this Naturally Aspirated Rotary Engine is, quite simply, nothing short of gasp drawing. Peak power may be at 9,000rpm, but peak torque comes in at a middling 6,500, and you have even, precise, smooth, and immediate power all the way to about 9,500 before the engine completely dips off. Yes, those still look like astronomical figures, but for some perspective, that's almost half of the entire 8k rev range giving you useable power. Put your foot down at anywhere between 6 and 9.5k, and this thing will get up and go with an immediacy, urgency, and almost glee, as though it had been looking for an excuse to get angry all this while.


As a result of the uncharacteristic plateaus of torque spread out over long gearing typical of Group C cars, coupled with the car's astronomically high redline, you can do some truly ludicrous feats of shifting in this thing. For example, during this week's race at Spa, I lugged the car out of Bruxelles in 2nd, almost hitting redline going into No Name. I then braked for No Name, upshifted into 3rd, and powered out, and I believe that's the fastest way to drive through that complex. And if all that hasn't been enough praise for this engine, the 1991 Le Mans race proved that it is shockingly fuel efficient, as well, betraying yet another expectation of Rotary Engines.




(Not much of a photographer IRL, ngl...)

Of course, part of its fuel economy is allegedly due to the engine being detuned to 700HP and limited to 9,000rpm for the 1991 race. There are LOTS of articles that claim it's capable of 930HP and 10,500rpm, but I've yet to find a single instance where Mazda explicitly states those numbers. Though, making peak power right at redline does lend credence to that detuned theory. In Gran Turismo Sport, we get a puzzling, middle of nowhere 790HP and 10,000rpm redline, though it's worth noting that the 787B can be brought up to a whopping 941HP in the game - an arbitrary ceiling for non Hybrid Group 1 cars it would seem. Its astronomical redline does mean that it has a rather high top speed of 371km/h (230.5mph) drag limited with just its default gearbox if you do bring its power up.


Being a Group C car, all its power goes through an old school, proper five speed stick: H Pattern, three pedals, and all. The gearbox was a joint effort by Porsche and Mazda, and features a dog-leg shift pattern straight out of the insanely successful Porsche 956 of the eighties. Infuriatingly, Gran Turismo Sport uses the conventional shift pattern for the 787B in the game as opposed to the dog leg.

Group C cars are, puzzlingly, essentially right hand drive cars with the gear lever on the right as well. This means that you'll have to climb over the exposed gear linkages to get into the car. It's a really confounding layout, if the dog leg gearbox isn't enough to trip you up already. No one's still doing that "run into your car and start the engine on the grid" thing in 1991, are they? Nonetheless, Group C cars are among the very few racing cars in this game you can drive with a H Pattern Shifter, and certainly the only ones that feel even remotely modern with radial tyres, ABS, and such. I only WISH I had one for my Logitech G29 to make the engine truly sing.


In the cockpit of the car, you can see sticky notes stuck beside the tachometer, retained as they were 29 long years ago. Written with black markers, these give glimpses to various benchmarks for the drivers to hit in the fateful 1991 race. Being already so far down in power, the drivers of the #55 787B were told to drive each lap of the 24 Hour race flat out as though it were a sprint race... for all of the 362 laps the winning #55 car ended up doing of the then recently altered la Sarthe.


The two real time digital readouts next to the tachometer gives readings of the instantaneous fuel economy in km/ℓ, and the fuel remaining in ℓ. If the instant fuel economy readout is to be believed, 9,000rpm at full throttle would give 1.80km/ℓ, which is close to the 1.85km/ℓ the sticky notes denote is the minimum fuel economy in order to achieve the target of 7ℓ a lap. The last digit in the decimal place doesn't work in the game, however. Being limited to 9,000rpm also limits the 787B to a top speed of a paltry 340km/h, which the car will readily hit as-is without slipstream, for a good few awkward seconds before having to brake for the Mulsanne Chicanes and Indianapolis.


Very oddly however, the fuel readout reads 85ℓ at maximum, when the actual car has a 100ℓ tank. How the game handles this disparity is that the remaining fuel in percentage is applied to 85ℓ, and displayed as such. So, if for example, if you have half a tank of fuel, instead of reading "50.00", it'd read "42.50". The low fuel warning light comes on at 10% remaining, which is 10ℓ of fuel in the tank and 8.50 in the readout. Why Polyphony Digital couldn't have just made the readout accurate instead of making me do mathematical gymnastics in the middle of a race, I won't ever know.


Lastly - and this is admittedly a very nitpicky point about the car's interior - it lacks the protective amulet behind the driver's side seat and the red sticker above the gear lever that the real car has had since the 1991 race:



The protective amulet/ talisman/ sticker/ good luck charm, whatever you want to call them, are from Take Shrine (read as tah-kay) in Hiroshima, where Mazda's HQ is located. They read,「多家神社交通安全御守護」, read as "Take Jinjya koutsuu anzen o shugo". It roughly translates to "Take Shrine Protection for Safe Driving". Given that the only components on the 787B that failed in the 24 Hour race was a headlight and a precautionary wheel bearing change, I'm a believer in the efficacy of the charm. The 787B in the game missing this charm, and the red sticker above the gear lever I feel robs it a lot of its soul. But maybe that's a good thing, considering how badly represented as a whole it is in the game.


I probably should pay a visit to the shrine for some divine protection as well before publishing this review, because I'm about to criticise, of all things, the sound of the 787B in Gran Turismo Sport.

First off, have an unedited video I recorded with the car on game version 1,23, the very patch that the 787B was introduced to Gran Turismo Sport with:


If you've driven the 787B in the game recently (like, if, say, you joined us for our weekly race every Tuesday night, 10pm CST!), you'll know that the above video sounded NOTHING like what you've heard in the game. Not only that, but it was missing its irregular idling "brap brap brap" sound, which would be the FIRST thing you'd notice if you've ever been around the car in real life. It seemed like a really obvious and odd thing to miss, because the 787B in GT5 and GT6 both had the brapping. Hell, even the LM55 VGT has it!

The sound was so atrocious that it was immediately patched in the next update to what we currently have, a huge improvement over that ghastly atrocity in 1.23. It begs the question though: how in the HELL did Polyphony Digital get the sound so, SO wrong?

Well, turns out, PD for some reason, in their infinite wisdom, chose to record an aftermarket 4 Rotor RX-7 from Defined Autoworks for the sound and pass it off as the 787B's.

I'm sorry, but what the actual FUCK?!

Even though the sound has been much improved from Version 1.23, I still have a few issues with the sound of the car. I find that the sound has a very odd, grating grainy effect to it, that makes it sound more like a cheap RC toy car than a legendary Le Mans winning granddaddy of Rotary Engines. This awful sound is most prominent in chase cam. The idle brapping has been reinstated into the game, albeit this time only as a sound sample that plays when the engine is idling, and will abruptly cut when you rev the engine, or even look around with your Directional Pad in cockpit view. In Gran Turismo 5 and 6, the brapping is directly tied to the revs of the engine, and the brapping will increase with frequency if you revved it slowly from idle, until they became so frequent they form a constant, unbroken sound. When the revs fell, the unbroken sound will similarly break into highly frequent braps. Again, you can hear the actual car rev slowly from idle in the above linked video as well, as well as the engine starting sound, which sounds NOTHING like what we currently have in the game.


Oh, and yes, the engine sound is simplified and recycled for the RX-Vision GT3. And yes, that car's most likely going to be the cover car of Gran Turismo 7. Have I ruined enough things for you yet?

So what have we learned today? The 787B in Gran Turismo Sport is a sack of badly covered lies. Quite literally every aspect of it in this game is flat out wrong at worst and dubious at best: its suspension, its power output, the all-important engine noise, the gearbox, the interior, the downforce values... For the love of all that one can consider dear and holy, even the freaking fuel gauge isn't honest. As icing on the cake, it's dumped into the single most nonsensical category in the game: Group 1, where it not only has zero competitive merit, it's downright abysmal. Truly, everything about this mock "787B" is a deplorable, hopeless, lying sack of shit. PD ought to be ashamed of themselves, and Mazda should sue. Really, if Polyphony Digital had to fly over to America for a 4 Rotor RX-7 to record sounds for the 787B, when the 787B is sitting right there in Mazda's HQ in running condition, if they failed to realise things that should be IMMEDIATELY obvious to anyone if they as much sat in the car and started it, like the idle sound and the dog leg gearbox, it makes me wonder if Polyphony Digital had the actual car at all to scan, record, and evaluate its handling for the game. The 787B in Gran Turismo Sport is a disrespectful, lazy, barely concealed con job, and thus a howling, screaming Beater.

The actual car still won the 1991 24 Hours of Le Mans, though. Nothing else matters in a racing car. Nothing else matters in a racing car...

*silent sobbing in a dark corner*


As much as I whined and complained about the sound of the 787B in this game, I do have to say that, along with Assetto Corsa, Gran Turismo Sport's 787B is the best sounding digital 787B today. GTS has that high pitched wail almost spot on, though I find that Assetto Corsa seems to capture a mechanical whine in the cockpit better, making it sound deeper and more immersive. Here's a mostly unedited video of the sound in cockpit view and cinematic camera, where it sounds best:


SPOILER 2:

So I figure I ought to actually try to fix something for once instead of just whining and moaning about them. To that end, I've boot up both GT5 and GT6 to get an idea of what might be more accurate suspension settings for the 787B, which involved... maths. A lot of maths.

GT5 SETTINGS
GT6 SETTINGS

The reason I took two games to reference is because I seem to recall an update in GT6 giving cars obscene amounts of Camber angles. GT6 is also the only game that actually gives me ride height values. That's the easy part - the car has a ride height of 85mm, or roughly 3.35 inches.

The hard part comes when you try to determine the spring rates for Gran Turismo Sport. Gran Turismo 6 uses kgf to measure spring rates, which is WAY more commonly understood than freaking Natural Frequency (what even IS that?!) for spring rate readings, which is infuriatingly what Gran Turismo Sport uses.

So we need to do even MORE mathsing.

The formula for Natural Frequency is given as:

f = √(k / m) ÷ 2π

where k is the spring constant in Newtons per Metre, and m is the oscillating mass in kilograms.

Converting kgf/mm to N/m, we get:

15.8kgf/mm = 154945.1 N/m
14.8kgf/mm = 145138.4 N/m

Given the car's weight distribution of 49% front, 51% rear, we calculate the weight over the front and rear axles.

0.49*830 = 406.7kg
0.51*830 = 423.3kg

We then divide each of the axle weight by two to distribute the load evenly between two springs per axle, disregarding lateral imbalance.

406.7/2 = 203.35kg
423.3/2 = 211.65kg

And finally, we punch in the numbers into the formula:

ffront = √(154945.1 / 203.35) ÷ 2π
ffront = 4.393 260 610 269 68
ffront ≈ 4.39Hz

frear = √(145138.4 / 211.65) ÷ 2π
frear = 4.167 754 804 282 14
frear ≈ 4.17Hz

Saturday 19 September 2020

Car of the Week - Week 103: Volkswagen Golf I GTI '83

I'll admit, I'm not the biggest fan of Volkswagens, in an exercise of understatement and slowly easing readers into a review, which Esther the editor insists to me is important for some reason. You can imagine then, that I wasn't super thrilled to be told in the one-liner text message I got this week to go to Flat 4 Garage in Meguro, Toukyo, THE place in Japan to go for all your antique, air cooled, rear mounted Flat 4 Volkswagen needs. I was to be there on even shorter notice than usual to meet with and pick up both the car and Esther the editor. Oh, and just to spice things up, the message didn't mention what the car was, either.

Things always gotta be mysterious and dramatic in COTW, doesn't it? Then again, I really don't think words were designed to describe the sheer, unadulterated, appalling atrocity that at best vaguely describes this week's car.

"So... what the hell is this?", I ask, dumbfounded and aghast when I first laid eyes on the rancid lump of rusting metal before me, hoping Esther could tell me more about the car and its sorry condition, having arrived before me.

"This is a first generation Volkswagen Golf, more commonly known as the 'Mark I'. This car is of significant historical value as it marked a turning point where Volkswagen shifted their main vehicle lines from air cooled, rear engine, rear drive layouts, to water cooled, front engine, front drive layouts. Intended as a replacement for the Beetle, the Golf similarly enjoyed tremendous success in the market, thanks to its combination of packaging, pricing, and, in the case of this GTI model as well, performance. An icon now in its own right for its ubiquity, this car is very much a 'People's Car' - true to the name of Volkswagen."

Esther lecture slowed for a bit with uncertainty as she realised I wasn't easing up with my stare and scowl. "Is this a test?", she asks. "This is the third best selling car model in the history of the automobile... surely you know more about it...?"

"No, this is a shit car."

"How can you say that without having driven it?"

"How can I not say that after seeing THIS?!"

"Yes, well, it has quite the personalised flair..."

"Quite?! I think this 'people's car' has had way too much 'people' in it."

"Now, come on, Lee. I'd say you've been very lucky as far as car allocation goes in COTW. You've seen the rusted out cars found abandoned in barns others have had to drive against you. Please be an adult about this."

Against such adult logic dispensed to me by someone who looked way younger than I, all I could do was roll my eyes so far back, they might've done a full 360, and then some.

"Besides, this car is courtesy of an ardent fan of COTW reviews. They even have all these COTW stickers on the car, which you yourself hardly even use, if I'm to be completely fair here."

"That's because the cars I've been handed up to this point hadn't needed stickers to hold the bumpers together! We review the cars factory fresh, completely unmodified! How am I to offer a valid opinion on a car if it's in THIS state?!"

"Which is why you're picking up the car here instead of the car being delivered to you as usual." I detect a bit of a bite in her last statement, despite her objective word choice and completely flat tone. Something about this woman simply refuses to be written down. "Our mechanics have been hard at work all night long installing factory original parts on site, sourced at the last minute. We didn't have the time for the exterior... and really, the conversion cost combined would've surpassed the value of a new car entirely."

"So this is a shit car."

"This is a historic car, I'm told. It seemed like a real bargain; it costs way less than the historic cars we've raced... you know..."

I sigh. "I don't get the appeal. Any way you look at it, it's just a clapped out, old ass hatch."

In a reversal of the usual roles, Esther then goes on to tell me more about the car: how this first gen Golf alone sold more than a million units in its nine year production run, and how this car is widely considered to be the first "hot hatch", while we waited for the scurrying mechanics to put on the last of finishing touches in trying to revert this grandma car back into a virgin beneath the skin. Given its historical significance and how common they are, and in turn, what kids tend to do with them, I'm not sure if it belongs more in a scrapyard rusting and rotting, or polished to a showroom sheen on display in a museum. And it, mind bogglingly, seems like it would be right at home in either scenario.


Despite being a road going car (in theory), I'm told the owner of this car expressly forbade us to drive it on public roads in Japan. That might explain the lack of a Japanese plate conversion, but I suspect there were more reasons than that for the car not being legally allowed to be on public roads. Nonetheless, the Golf was loaded up onto a truck to be ferried over to Tsukuba Circuit for the first race of the week. As a result of the people's car not being able to ferry people, poor Esther and I have had to resort to another hatchback to get us there: my Amemiya FD that I drove here to Flat 4 Garage. Missing out on the historic holiness of the Golf for the two hour drive through the heart of Toukyo, we've had to make do with modern atrocities such as having air con, airbags, power steering, ABS, a locking differential, a speedo that actually read below 20km/h, and having to use all four wheels instead of just two. Urgh.

Life is so difficult and unfair!

*********************************************

A lot of people criticise the FD for being a claustrophobic car, and I agree. Compared to the FD however, the Mark I Golf was so tiny, it felt less like squeezing into a rabbit hole and more like putting on a jacket; you don't get into a Golf as much as you wear it. And just like putting on a jacket, you'll hardly see it once you wear it, giving a very natural and shockingly intuitive feel to be in the driver seat, with a commanding view of all that surrounds you. The car does such a good job of disappearing around you that it really did sometimes feel to me like everything on the road I saw before me, I could walk over and reach my hand out to grab, instead of operating a machine to drive over and then get out to touch.


Once the lights went green, everything got even better, and I forgot all about the looks of my car. I've always loved racing small, slow cars, because they promote the closest, most mega racing that would put to shame modern F1. Unlike the nonsensical hot hatches of today, the Golf doesn't destroy the driving experience with a twenty mile wheelbase, rack twisting torque steer, and understeering into the next country every corner exit, trying to prove a frankly stupid point. Rather, the charm of the GTI lies in the single most important ingredient in a sports car: simplicity, and in turn, lightness. Because the Mark I GTI lacked everything I pointed out on my way here to Tsukuba, it weighs in at only 890kg (1,962lbs). That's lighter than a NA Mazda Roadster while offering a whole row of rear seats, to give some context.

For as much as I bemoaned the lack of features in the Golf on public roads, that might end up being more praise than criticism on the track, as the Golf immediately wins drivers over with the sheer simplicity and ease of driving the moment they turn the wheel for a corner. True, there are no differentials, no ABS, no nothing at all to help you around a corner, but it is precisely because of the lack of these technological features that I find defines the charm and driving experience of the car: everything is barebones, dead simple, and as a result of that, not only do you feel everything in the car, but you and only you alone are in control. There aren't twenty million drive modes to choose from. There is no complication, nothing to think about. You get in it, belt up, turn the ignition, and drive. Launching it? Just drop the clutch and hammer the throttle pedal down as hard as you can. Watch and hear the wheels spin a little bit, and you're off. No traction control, no modulating clutch and gas, just... get in and go. Approaching a corner? You brake, you let off the brake, you turn the wheel, and you give it gas. There is no drama. There are no surprises. And unlike most raw, hardcore cars without aids like Vipers, Yellowbirds, and TVRs, there is truly nothing intimidating about the Golf, making it an easily accessible entry point to learn how to drive without all the modern electrical and mechanical bells and whistles. Every parameter of the dynamics of the car is within expectations. You drive it like a car, and it goes like a car, bells and whistles be damned.

And, you know what? The Golf might lack ABS, locking diffs, and all that. But that's because it really doesn't need any of that crap to keep itself in check, unlike modern hot hatches that try to cram 300 horses through the front wheels. Because a literal golf ball travels faster than this car, and because the front disc brakes are weak as hell as well, the lack of ABS really doesn't detract from dry driving at all, even with pedestrian Comfort Medium tyres. You can pretty much stand on the brake pedal and the tyres won't even complain - heck, you can still turn the car a bit even with full braking on Comfort Medium tyres, to give you an idea of how lazy the brakes on this thing are. I kid you not when I say that the only place where I've managed to get the tyres to even squeal under braking is down the tricky downhill off neutral braking zones of Bathurst, and even then, the tyres just complained; never locked. Thankfully, because the car is so lightweight, the brakes are perfectly adequate for the speed the car does, never once leaving you feeling wanting for more.

Oh, and of course, in the wet, the wheels WILL lock if you just stomped on them. There, now you can't sue me. Surprised what needs to be explicitly spelled out nowadays... sheesh.

Oh, and the open differential? Almost inconsequential as well, due to it's modest power output. You'll only notice the lack of a locking differential if you pull the car off centre on full throttle suddenly, which causes the soft car to lean laterally. You'll then notice the engine revs subtly rise, but like a passing fart in the wind, it passes so quickly, it's not worth much thought. You simply don't need a differential with only 111PS and FWD, and driving the Mark I in 2020 makes one seriously rethink what a car needs and ought to have, even if I know perfectly well that we can never have a car as simple as this again.

Truly, the single most attention grabbing and complicated thing on this car is perhaps its golf ball shaped shift knob, which lets you play with five forward cogs (and one reverse) in this car. That's right: this peasant 111PS hatchback actually has more forward gears than a top of the line, turbo 911 of its era. Let that sink in for a minute.

There's are two design philosophies in video games that are pivotal to create addicting and satisfying gameplay, that still serve as a backbone to video games today. They are, "easy to pick up, difficult to master", and "the better you do, the harder it gets." Just like a video game in the eighties like Contra, the Golf is easy to learn the basics of. And really, the basics are all you'll need to do amazing things with it. Try to get better at them, however, and that's when the fun truly begins.


The harder you drive the Golf, the more you try to squeeze tenths and hundredths of a second out of the car every lap, and the car discreetly comes alive. Just like a video game, the Golf sets out its own rules to the player up front and eggs the driver on. This car is wonderfully communicative, all without the complication and language barriers of words. With all the rules of the game spelled out for you non verbally, fairly, and intuitively, how finely and consistently can you hold your perfect line through a corner to squeeze every last thousandth of a second from it?

Get it wrong, and the car will duly bite, like a great teacher should. At speeds so low, it's unlikely to be anything that won't buff out. Because of the car's light weight, it never feels uncooperative or unable to do what you're asking of it. Rather, it's the finer things, like the suspension, the tyres, the throttle control - all wonderfully communicative things that are in your control and yours alone - that will make or break any given corner. Suddenly, all the farts in the wind become important. Suddenly, you need to be smooth with your inputs to prevent the open diff wasting power. Stomp on the brakes while the car is too off neutral, overcook a corner just a tad bit too much, and there is no power to help mask your mistake, and no rear wheel drive to help rotate the rear end out. And with only 111PS to get you to the next corner, you will be feeling that mistake for a long, long time.

Get it right, however, and it will truly feel as gratifying as learning how to tap dance on a tightrope. Just like a good video game, the Golf is its own reward for mastering it: it is INSTANTLY and INSANELY gratifying, leaving you wanting more and more of that same euphoria. Whether intentionally or otherwise, the Golf is an excellent, excellent teacher, due to its price, simplicity, and non intimidating nature. It will bite, but not debilitatingly so, at every mistake you make. And it will reward you in spades for getting it right, moreso than most other "sports" cars today. A lot of people claim that karting a great way to learn race driving - I disagree. You want to learn how to make a car go fast, buy a Golf Mark I. This has suspension, this has air in its tyres, this has gears. Most karts don't. And you won't learn how to maintain and take care of a car with a kart, would you? The Golf is not only an absurdly good teacher on track, but it is a good mentor in real life as well, I suspect. The road worthiness, extra seats, and trunk space are also nice bonuses.

Out of curiosity, I wanted to see how the "original hot hatch" fares against a modern "room temperature hatchback". Of course, when I wondered this, I hadn't yet been aware that several years ago in COTW, a Mark I GTI completely destroyed a Mark IV GTI somewhere in an American desert. Union Jacks, teeth punching, and aliens may or may not have been involved. Unbeknownst to this sorcery at the time, I indulged in my fleeting naïveté and innocence, and rented a fourth gen for myself, unwittingly poised to repeat a cursed cycle of events, as though I had just found myself the protagonist of an oddly motorsport oriented horror story. I rented myself... a Demio.

...Diesel.


Challenging VW to a race in a diesel? Not the brightest idea I've had.

Of course, the first race I did in the Demio, I was sandwiched between a comparatively inexperienced driver beside me who wouldn't back out, and Vic bump drafting me from behind ensuring I couldn't back out, either... on the entry to Dragon Trail Seaside's Chicane of Death... in reverse.

Some days, you just gotta admit that you're cursed and accept it raw in your backside.

Anyway, on paper, the modern Demio loses out significantly: it has seven less ponies than the Mark I, and the pony deficiency has to cope with a whopping 190kg more. The diesel engine in the Demio needs to be short shifted, which puts it at an immediate disadvantage to the petrol engine making all its power up top in the Golf. Truly, the only advantage I had for certain was that I had insurance covering the Demio, I had a pop up HUD displaying my speed, sat nav so I know where the track is, had better fuel economy so I had to pit less over the 4 lap race, and I have one more forward overdrive gear. If I were being optimistic, I could hope that a few of the horses in the Golf has gotten sick of the fake grass in the golf course and wandered elsewhere (can you tell I've no writing talent from my analogies?) (Editor's note: we didn't need your analogies.)

So, could a more modern, more practical, insurance covered, sensible small hatch you can actually buy (or rent from Times Car Rental) keep up with a near 40 year old grandma of a car? Has age made the Mark I completely irrelevant today?

Almost, actually.

In Jeremy Clarkson's voice: TONIGHT, two grey hatchbacks drive closely to each other...

Vic wins nearly every race...

and aliens in an American desert!

Despite the gigantic difference on the spec sheets, the Demio only loses out slightly to the Mark Is on the straights, thanks no doubt to its one extra forward gear, and heaps of torque from the SkyActiv-D diesel. You can make up most of it in the corners, because while the Golf is a strict test of driving skill, requiring its driver to baby it around a corner to extract the best from it, you can (and have to) rag on the more modern car around every corner to keep up with the Golf. You have to be more aggressive and sharper with all your inputs - stomp on the brakes, pull hard on the steering wheel, toss the car with reckless abandon into a corner and trust that the car will cling. The better composed suspension setup enables the driver to be much rougher with the car, though I find that it isn't nearly as communicative as the one in the Golf, nor do I find it to be as good a teaching tool. But, because it more tightly controls the body movements, it makes better use of the uprated Sports tyres we were running for the race, which is where I think the time difference comes from. On more appropriate Comfort tyres... I'm not so sure if the Demio can keep up.

I once said I would rather spend two hours in a Demio than five minutes in a LaFerrari. That's how much I love the Demio and the driving experience it provides. Hopping out of the Mark I and directly into the Demio however, I'm flabbergasted by how numb and insulated the whole driving experience is in the modern car. The Demio hadn't half the fidelity, half the sense of occasion, from every avenue of communication a car is capable of, be it tyre noises, pitching, rolling, engine noises, throttle response, steering feel... as surprised and flabbergasted as I am to say this... the Demio isn't half the driver's car of the Mark I. I'm not sure if you noticed, but I'm kinda a Mazda fanboy by the way.

At the end of our weekly excursion, I do have to admit I've been quite impressed by a Mark I GTI. But in the few days it has taken me to write up to this point, I'm still quite torn on whether I like it or not, and whether I would recommend it to anyone.

Again, I'll lay my biases out on the table: I'm not very drawn to Volkswagens. Yet, the Mark I GTI was genuinely impressive - surprisingly so. I've praised the car for its lightness, for the raw experience it can provide. The excellent visibility out the cockpit. The noises. The softness. The simplicity, the accessibility, its non intimidating factor, and the precision it trains you for by demanding at all times. But that to me sounds like praising the whiteness of rice... they ALL do that. All cars of its era share those same traits. Sure, I'm told it's stiffer than a standard Golf. I'm told it has more power. But it's hard to really feel that extra stiffness and power without the context of being in the seventies and eighties, because today, it just feels... basic. Soft. Powerless. Indistinct. And just like white rice, there isn't really inherently anything wrong or bad with it. In fact, entire nations depend on it. It's just... on its own, it's so hopelessly bland, it's nigh intolerable. And that perhaps is why this car's owner had to do what they did to it.

I'll admit, a big part of the reason why my heart isn't so swayed by the Mark I is that, by 1983, you already have way better options than the Golf. For 5K USD less when brand new in the eighties, you could've had more power. You could've had the same practicality. You could've had a more iconic engine that redlines WAY higher. You could've had the same five speed stick. You could've had a car that was stiffer sprung, more well put together in the twisties, without sacrificing ride quality. You could've lapped Bathurst a whole FIVE SECONDS faster. You could've had a perfect 50:50 weight distribution. You could've had rear wheel drive.

For 5k USD less in 1983, you could've bought an AE86.

If the Mark I is a great teacher in grade school, then the 86 is like a lecturer in college, offering you way more depth in coverage with the same fidelity in the little details. The 86 will put the same emphasis on driving smoothly. It will even teach you about weight transfer, balancing the car, and how to induce, hold, adjust, and retrieve a slide - something the FF Golf couldn't. It will excite and enthrall you like nothing else on the road, even today. If the Golf handles like a go-kart, the 86 is telepathic by comparison. It's stiffer sprung, it's more composed and better put together in the corners, and it will encourage you to play and make you feel like a superhero in seven seconds more than the Golf would in seven generations. It will utterly destrolish any lap time set by a Mark I around any track. Hell, the 86 out accelerates the Mark I in a straight line! When has that ever happened? An 86 outrunning someone in the straights is the automotive equivalent of the sun eclipsing the moon! And if all that isn't convincing enough an argument, the Trueno 86 has pop up headlights.

I get that, in 1983, it would make more sense to compare a Mark II to the 86, but I honestly can't forsee myself preferring any FF Golf over the 86. And in modern times, I'd like my hatchback to actually have five doors, air con, warranty, ABS, and parts readily available. And have wheels that don't require special tools to remove. And don't require Hazmat suits to drive. And have gearboxes that don't explode after 5 centimetres on the odometer. Truly, a modern Golf sounds to me as much of a maintenance nightmare as people think my FD RX-7 is.

I just don't see the point of a Mark I, or any Golf, in any time period after the seventies, is what I'm trying to get at. I can only recommend the Mark I if you own a race driving school. For anyone else, I opine that there are better packages as a whole out there than the Golf.

It therefore earns my first Neutral verdict.

Side note: My first attempt at a German plate. There MIGHT have been a detail or two wrong about it ;)