Mom cars. The phrase itself conjures up images of bland practicality, sparingly-chosen options, and insipid family transportation. But when I was a teenager in the late 1980s, my mom broke that mold, and purchased a car so rare that it hasn’t yet been covered among Curbside Classic’s thousands of articles. Nine years later, I bought this car from my parents, and kept it for another six years. It was my favorite car – undoubtedly the most unique car I’ll ever own – and the thought of driving it still makes me smile. Please allow me to introduce you to my Mazda 323 GTX.
GTXs were never common – Mazda racked up only about 1,200 US sales of the little turbocharged hatchbacks in 1988 and ’89. Produced to satisfy FIA Group A rally-racing homologation rules (mandating that race cars have a production equivalent), the GTX offered a turbocharged engine, outstanding handling, and – importantly – full-time 4wd. But despite its attributes, the GTX proved to be a tough sell to customers, in part because it didn’t look like a serious performance car… and it cost significantly more than its competition. Just who Mazda considered to be the target market for new GTXs is unknown, but it probably wasn’t 45-year-old suburban moms. So how this car wound up in our driveway deserves a bit of explanation.
Ours was just like the white one here
My family’s road to GTX ownership began in the winter of 1980 when, intrigued at the thought of a 4wd passenger car, mom and dad drove to our local Subaru dealer during a snowstorm, and bought a new wagon. 4wd passenger cars were quite a novelty then, but although our Subaru performed exceptionally in the snow, it was overall an unreliable car. My folks kept it for six years, and then looked for a something new.
By then, mom and dad were sold on the merits of 4wd, but didn’t want another Subaru – and being skittish about unreliable cars, were hesitant to buy a Jeep either. So in 1986, they bought a Mitsubishi Montero, to be mom’s daily driver. Monteros were great off-roaders, but not so suitable as family cars. Mom quickly tired of the bouncy ride and the instability on highways, and within two years wanted to get rid of it.
My parents still wanted 4wd, but not a Subaru… or an SUV. In 1988, that left few options. And since mom prided herself on being somewhat unconventional, dull sedans like Ford’s AWD Tempo didn’t interest her at all. However, dad and I had an idea that we thought just might work.
Back in 1986, Mazda began producing 4wd versions of its Familia (323) hatchback for Japanese domestic consumption. Rumor had it that Mazda, in the process of bolstering its high-tech and performance image in the US, would import the top-tier turbocharged GT-X version… and those rumors became reality partway through the 1988 model year.
One might think that it would take a good bit of arm-twisting to convince mom to buy a homologated rally car, but that wasn’t the case. Though not rally fan, mom had been hoping for exactly this type of car – small, fun, 4wd, and well-built. Importantly, mom didn’t mind spending $15,000 for such a car. While not a high-dollar amount for 1988 standards, the price probably kept many customers away, since GTXs cost more than the class-leading VW GTI, and they looked awfully similar to Mazda’s entry-level econobox (a base 323 hatchback could be had for under $7,000).
Finding a GTX to test drive wasn’t easy, but we eventually located a dealer in nearby Philadelphia with a black demo in stock. Mom and dad both loved driving it – and 15-year-old me was mighty excited that my parents might actually by a car with a legitimate racing heritage. I assumed it was too good to be true – but for once, my pessimistic nature was wrong. My parents actually ordered one (it was dealer-traded from Vermont), which was delivered the following week.
GTXs came in four colors, and with a variety of options. But most buyers just took what they could get. The $12,999 base price could be supplemented by air conditioning ($760), digital dash ($450), cassette stereo ($415), and power windows and locks ($295). Mom’s car ended up being Sunrise Red, and fully-loaded.
A proud new driver. Little did I know that I’d own that car in my mid 20s.
In what must have been a relief for my folks after their frustrations with the Subaru and Montero, the GTX satisfied all of their requirements. Mom and dad loved driving it – as did I. In fact, this was the car in which I took my driver’s test when I turned 16 in 1989. Tests, actually, since I failed my first attempt when I hit the curb and then stalled while attempting a three-point turn with the test instructor sitting right next to me. I passed the second time, and have loved driving ever since.
Later that year, my father and I undertook a three-week summertime road trip that remains one of my favorite vacations. We drove across the United States and back, for a total of about 6,000 miles. Of course, long-distance highway driving wasn’t quite what the GTX was designed for. For example, in a 64.8” wide car, our respective elbows got well acquainted with each other. And the Mazda’s 5th gear was lower than ideal for highway driving… turning a buzzy 3,000 rpm (if I remember correctly) at highway speeds. Also, the GTX was not offered with cruise control, though with the buzzy engine, it was easy to maintain a steady speed just by ear.
I took pictures of the Mazda at Pikes Peak’s 14,115 ft. summit, but like most of my older pictures, they haven’t survived. This postcard will have to suffice.
None of those those minor faults prevented my father and I from having a terrific time – I can only hope that in the coming years, I’ll be able to take a similar type of trip with my own children. While all of that trip was memorable, one particular destination stands out: We drove to the summit of Pikes Peak… and in the perfect car too, since the Pikes Peak Hillclimb was just what the GTX was built for.
Dad was very brave and let me (16 years old) drive up the famous Pikes Peak Highway, which back then was largely unpaved. And since our July trip occurred immediately after the annual Hillclimb, pennants still lined much the road from that year’s event.
Through the remainder of my teenage years and into my 20s, the GTX served well as mom’s car. Always a good driver, mom appreciated its quick handling, energetic performance, and of course excellent winter traction. When the GTX was new, we would occasionally see others roaming around, but over the years, the cars’ numbers noticeably declined. From what I understand, once GTXs hit the used car market, they tended to be scooped up by amateur racers – finding a good-condition used GTX quickly became rather challenging.
As for myself, in 1997, at age 24, I planned on moving to North Carolina and enrolling in full-time graduate school. Knowing that I’d be facing several years of minimal income, I needed a more affordable daily driver than my trouble-prone Saab 900. The Saab had to go… but what should I replace it with?
Fortunately for me, mom was getting a bit tired of the car that she’d driven for nearly nine years. Nothing was wrong with the GTX, but it was getting a bit rough around the edges, as cars nearly a decade old and with 70,000 miles tend to do. Mom figured it was time for a new car anyway, and my folks agreed to sell me the GTX for a reasonable $4,000.
I’ve made some good, and some poor car decisions in my 30 years of driving, but buying the GTX from my parents ranks as one of the best choices I’ve made. Through six years and about 60,000 miles, the car proved to be reliable, economical and fun. Repairs were relatively few, led by a new clutch at about 100,000 miles, and also radiator repair and brake work (which was expensive on these cars).
Since we’re unlikely to have another owner’s report here at CC on this car, I’ll provide by best recollections on what owning and driving a GTX was like.
Power came from a twin-cam, 16-valve 1.6-liter turbocharged engine that developed 132 hp and 136 lb-ft of torque, mated to a somewhat rubbery 5-speed manual transmission. While this represented exciting power for a 1980s subcompact, keep two things in mind: First, peak hp came at 6,000 rpm, so in low rpm ranges, the engine’s output resembled that of a normally-aspirated 1.6. Second, the GTX package added 500 lbs. to the 323’s curb weight, meaning that this wasn’t a lightweight car. Still, there was plenty of fun to be had… 60 mph came in about 8.5 seconds, which was good for the era.
While power was good, handling was outstanding, with MacPherson struts up front and Mazda’s Twin Trapezoidal Link suspension in the rear (similar to other 323s, though tweaked, and riding on 14” alloy wheels). Full-time 4wd eliminated the FWD 323’s understeer, and in my experience the car’s handling was completely neutral – this was particularly impressive when driving on difficult surfaces. This car’s handling was almost completely unflappable.
The GTX’s interior was a combination of standard 323 fare, plus a few unique GTX components… most noticeably, the seats – heavily-bolstered front seats upholstered in racy, but gray, fabric. Overall, this was a reasonably comfortable car for its day. Despite snug dimensions, the little hatchback could easily carry four adults… people back then were accustomed to squeezing into small cars, after all. Build quality was excellent.
Many GTXs, such as mine, were equipped with the optional digital instrument package, which, even for the digital-crazy 1980s, stood out in the crowd. The orange display (yes, orange), featured a round speedometer and tachometer, with the display consisting of tons of little digital bars that filled up the gauge to indicate the car’s speed. Peculiarly, the tachometer’s markings were not uniformly spaced. The above image from an idling GTX shows that the space between 2,000 and 3,000 rpm is much bigger than the space between 3,000 and 4,000. And the space between 6,000 and 7,000 redline is tiny… alarmingly so, since the redline lurks in there. I’ve never seen another tachometer calibrated like this, and it was one of my few complaints about the car. Actually, the entire instrument display was difficult to read – even in good conditions, let alone in bright sunlight when it became nearly impossible.
My favorite part of the GTX’s interior was this button that locked the center differential. Aside from the small “Full Time 4wd” sticker on the front fender, this was the only clue about the car’s drivetrain. I nicknamed this the Panic Button, and used it only rarely, such as driving in a blizzard, or after having gotten stuck in a snowbank… but it sure was fun to engage on an occasional basis!
None of my friends at the time was a car enthusiast, but many people who rode in the GTX loved it. Without knowing about its rarity or 4wd capabilities, folks could sense that it was something special, and with its small size, the gimmicky digital dash, and the small Momo steering wheel that I’d installed, passengers would often say something like “this seems like a video arcade car.”
During my ownership time, I only came across one other GTX – a black one that I’d seen around the Raleigh/Durham area a few times. One time in 2000, I was able to chat with its driver, a woman who had recently bought it from its original owner. She knew about the car’s rarity, and was surprised to see another one. We joked that we probably had the only two unraced GTXs left –probably not much of an exaggeration. That was over 20 years ago, and I haven’t seen another one since.
The GTX served me very well while I was in Graduate School and in the years afterwards, but it gradually developed inevitable age-related annoyances. Nothing serious… paint faded, the alloy wheels needed to be stripped and refinished, the speakers buzzed, upholstery frayed, the tape player worked only sporadically, the windshield seal leaked, as did the driver door, and so on. Typical 12-year-old car problems, but fixing these and other issues would take both time and money.
Part of me wanted a new car, but part of me wanted to keep the GTX forever. Well… why not both? In what seemed like an ideal compromise, I purchased a newer car (a two-year-old Ford Contour SVT), and kept the 130,000-mi. GTX as a periodic driver, with the intention of getting these nagging issues fixed. Someday.
Someday never came. Shortly after buying the Contour, I took a new job in Maryland, and the increased cost of living there meant that my car-repair wishlist would have to wait. Additionally, since my new apartment had only one reserved parking space, I stored the Mazda at my parents’ house 150 miles away. That, of course, meant that I didn’t exactly see the Mazda frequently, which in turn reduced the likelihood that I’d ever fix it up.
Finally in 2003, I realized that I ought to sell the Mazda. By then, I drove it only rarely, and the cost of owning a second car wasn’t yielding much in terms of satisfaction. Plus, I could use some extra cash, notably to buy an engagement ring for my soon-to-be-wife. So, I pinched myself to set my priorities straight, and advertised the GTX on a Mazda-specific website for about $3,200. Within a few days, a man in New York offered to buy it sight-unseen, and for the asking price. The following week, I drove my GTX – one final time – up to its new home. I missed it immediately, as I still do, but I knew I’d never get around to either fixing it up, or using it as a daily driver again. It was clearly the right time to sell, and move on.
The GTX had been a part of my life from age 15 to 30 – it was a memorable, rare, reliable, fun, affordable and exciting car. Not many people are able to say that their favorite car was a hand-me-down from mom, but for me, that’s certainly the case.
Thanks mom… for breaking the mold and buying a fun rally car!
Wow, you did indeed have the coolest Mom. They are out there – like my childhood next door neighbor’s mother who spent 5 years in a 66 then a 68 GTO, both with 4 speeds. I never knew any other Moms back then who did that.
I did not remember that these ever existed. I surely paid attention at the time, but by 1988 I had gotten tired of new cars and was looking backwards again. Yes, $15k was pricey back then – my loaded 85 GTI stickered around $12k and my Mom’s very nicely equipped 85 Crown Vic had $14k on the window. $15k could buy a lot of car in 1988.
It is a sad truism that time moves on, and cars do not stay new forever.
Great article about a car that I had forgotten even existed.
What does the scale change button on the dash do?
Switch between metric and Imperial I’d image
I’m not 100% sure of this because it’s been a long time, but I think it changed the scale on the electronic fuel gauge so that it only measured the last 4 gallons (or so) of tank capacity. I think the theory was that if you’re running low on gas, the Scale Change feature would give you a more precise estimate of how much is left in your tank.
In my car, the fuel gauge was always a bit erratic anyway, so that’s a feature I barely remember.
That makes sense, as the fuel gauge is the only one that doesn’t have markings printed on the dash.
This actually isn’t a terrible idea – a common complaint against digital 8-segment “bar type” gas gauges is the low level of precision. Not a big deal when the tank is full (is it 7/8 or 3/4? Who cares.), but the lack of precision is a big deal when you are running low in the middle of nowhere.
Of course, most cars now have DTE (distance to empty) displays in addition to the fuel gauge, which is even better.
I didn’t know a digital dash wash available for any 323; this is the first one I’ve seen. That tachometer is just bizarre though.
I also never understood why Mazda moved the radio and tape/CD player way down low on the console on the GTX just to make room for a single button (for the center diff). Well that and a not-very-useful small tray below it. They should have left the radio in this location as with other 323s and put the locking differential button on the dash, as there were many blank plates. The 323 GTX radio location also negated a useful covered storage compartment that normally lived there.
Cool story about your mom! That’s an interesting dashboard for a small “economy” car, and the controls remind me of my old ’93 Escort. When I was 13, my mom decided she wanted a 5.0 Mustang convertible, so my dad found her a two-year old black GT that they still own. Dad still drives it around a little in the summer, but it’s getting a little rough around the edges. Mom thinks it rides too hard, so she has nothing to do with it, although she currently drives a 2018 black Ecoboost Mustang. Hooray for cool moms!
Mom cars can be fun, if you have the right Mom. I ended up with 2 of my mother’s previous rides, an ’82 Dodge (Mitsu) Challenger 5-speed and an ’85 Chrysler Conquest, also 5-speed. In our house Dad drove the “Conservatively Upscale Dad Car” and Mom drove the fun car. Her choices were not always what one might consider practical by the usual metric, but they sure were more interesting and inspiring than the Delta 88’s and Caprices the other Moms drove. Later she drove 3 Jaguars over 10 years, then bought the pink Geo Tracker I wrote about in a recent comment when my parents divorced. A Subaru WRX was a more recent runabout, but now in her mid 70’s, and after a very scary accident almost 2 years ago she’s settled into a more conventional Subaru Outback. If they still made 2-door manually shifted coupes I wonder what her choice might be today.
The Conquest is an interesting Mom car… I have no data on this, but it seemed that I rarely saw Conquests or Starions driven by women. I’m not sure why, or if that was unique to where I lived, but I definitely remember that from back when Conquests roamed the earth.
After the GTX, my mom fluctuated between prosaic and mildly-interesting cars, and has made some similar choices as your mom. She had a WRX for a while, and now (in her late 70s) drives a Crosstrek.
Eric, you have a delightfully unconventional mother. This Mazda is certainly more exciting than the ’85 Crown Vic and ’91 Dodge Dynasty my mom was driving when in her 40s.
Like others, if I knew about the 323 GTX I had forgotten about it. This sounds like a tremendously fun car to drive and you were quite wise to buy it from your parents.
The desire, with the inability, to give a cherished car the treatment it needs and deserves is quite frustrating. In the end, you did the right thing as selling it certainly saved you from additional angst about it all.
Plus, your mom picked the best color available.
I had a grandmother, with the same attitude as your mom. She bought a new, ’69 Buick GS 400, at the age of 68.
Your family has good taste. They would’ve fit right in in my hometown (Boulder, CO) with the Subaru and the Montero.
I’ve always been curious about these GTX’s. Only ever saw one that was regularly parked in town when I was in high school. I used to have a 90 Civic hatchback and I love these types of cars. The GTX must have been a kick in the pants on windy roads…and with a lot more power than the Civic (no Si for me). Not sure if I’d be crazy about the digital dash though.
I’m curious about your Contour SVT as well…
The Contour was terrific. In my (admittedly biased) opinion, it was the best mid-priced sport sedan on the market at the time.
And since they didn’t sell too well, used ones were a good deal. I got mine for $16,000 (2 years old w/ about 18,000 mi.), and kept it for ten years. Great fun to drive, though in comparison to the GTX it felt like a luxury car. I got rid of the Contour in 2010 when things suddenly started going wrong with it, and that was shortly after second daughter was born, and I just didn’t have the patience for car problems. It was replaced by a minivan. But for most of my ten years of ownership, the SVT was wonderful.
I’ve heard good things about the Contour and might have had one (4-cylinder with automatic) if the timing had been different. At one point when I was in the market for a car, the used Contours out there hadn’t depreciated to the point that I could afford one. Next time I was in the market, they were old enough that I wasn’t sure how much life they had left.
I gather that the Contour suffered in the marketplace for being too small for one market niche and too big for the other niche, but its size would have suited me. I almost never have rear-seat passengers, so the cramped rear seat wouldn’t have been an issue. I was certainly aware of its European DNA.
Congratulations on having such an awesome Mom hand-me-down car. These were remarkable little cars in their time.
Great Little Car…. oh wait…. ;o)
Put my Mom in the cool category…
In 1977, my own Mom had tired of the large cars my Dad tended to prefer, deciding she wanted something smaller and sportier. I was 17 at the time and quite excited when my Dad pulled the trigger on a Chevy Concours (Nova) Coupe in red metallic with a red interior. While this car was more pseudo luxury than sporty, it DID have a V8, which delighted this new teenaged driver to no end!
Plus this version of the Nova is as rare as hens teeth (especially the 2-door), so that ‘exclusivity’, if you want to call it that, was not lost on us. We received many compliments on that car.
It was nice finally getting a car in the family that wasn’t boring.
This car handled really well, as from what I understand reading in these very pages, was one of this generation of Nova’s strong suit. Of course anything would’ve out handled the ’73 LTD that we had at the time.
I don’t think I was ever aware of this car.
This may be a case of “if he could have done it, he would have,” and in any case the ship has sailed. But it doesn’t sound as if the issues in your last few years of ownership were bringing the car to its knees. Could you have addressed them one at a time, hired the work out (= less time in the shop), and driven rentals while the car was in the shop?
Having said that, a marriage is definitely more important than a car.
Very true — I could have addressed these issues and kept the car. In hindsight, I guess I had the desire to do so, but not the actual motivation to deal with the hassles. I initially thought that by semi-retiring the GTX, I could deal with those issues in a more leisurely fashion, but it was probably just an instance of procrastination. And then life changed, and keeping my car forever lost some appeal.
And I feel like I made the right choice – like you wrote, marriage is more important than a car. Ironically, though, my wife brought her 1995 Thunderbird into our marriage… a car which we still have, and is now 10 years older than my GTX when I sold it.
This was always a big “I want one” car for me, for many years I’d look at nationwide Craigslist listings and hopefully find one that was close enough, cheap enough, unrusty enough, and that I had time enough to deal with when one was actually available… Of course that never all happened at the same time and now any good ones are probably on BaT for too much money.
I do remember seeing them in the showroom when new at my Mazda dealer, especially since had a Mazda at the time and would visit to see what was new. Curiously the four door sedan version with the same engine did NOT have the AWD, but was FWD only.
Great looking and performing little car with some actual rally heritage. Very cool!
The 323 GTX at least has a cult following, but the 323 GT turbo 16v FWD sedan seems to be totally forgotten. It was less visually distinguished from standard 323s than the GTX was.
I semi-seriously considered one of these in 1999 when I wanted my own “fun” car to supplement or family Corolla and Land Cruiser. But they were already thin on the ground and I bought my Ducati instead. Which I still have. I knew about the 4 door GTX but I’m not sure I’ve ever seen one.
In 1988 Mazda participated in 8 WRC events, with two second place finishes. They finished 4th in the manufacturer’s championship. 1989 was the final year for the first generation of the 323 GTX, and would be Mazda’s most successful. Using seven different drivers, with up to four in each rally, they took two wins and two second places, with nine other finishes as well. This successful season yielded 3rd in the manufacturer’s championship.
I test drove one of these overnight, and seriously considered buying it. As you said it had neutral handling and good power for the time. A lot more than the 68 hp (yes, really) that my 1985 GLC Sport had. Driving that car fast felt like you were rowing it, you had to shift so often. The AWD in the 323GTX tended to act like Antilock breaks, keeping just one wheel from locking. Antilock brakes were a rarity then, and I appreciated the nice, straight braking in the snow and gravel common in Alaska.
I already owned a 1986 Saab 9000 Turbo, though, and I couldn’t stand to drop down in size and class so much just for AWD. I have since owned two Subarus, both Legacies, so I did end up with AWD
Thank you for a great write-up & insight into your family at the time.
But a buddy of mine had a serious interest in the 323 GTX in about ’90 & found one in the classifieds near San Fran & bought it sight unseen (we lived in Mammoth Lakes, CA at the time). Beautiful car. I was fortunate to get to drive it once on some backroads in the high Sierra desert. What an amazing piece of machinery. I have driven some mighty fine vehicles over the years but yet to find it’s equal for what it was.
My mother had a 1980 280-ZX Turbo for a few years. That was also a very fun car to drive, except in the rain. I ended up with the 280-ZX 2+2 that she declined for her newer turbo.
Cheers!