It was early in the morning, not ridiculously early but early enough that the countryside was still hitting snooze. I had driven all night to reach Lubec, Maine, the easternmost point in the United States. Lost in a trance, gazing across the cold blue waters of the Bay of Fundy, a familiar sound penetrated my head. "Hey, is that your car?" I turned to see a jolly chap lumbering towards me, pointing back at the Fiesta with his Mini Cooper parked next to it.
"What is that thing?" he asked.
"Oh it is a Fiesta," I said, and started to prepare the long explanation that inevitably followed. But then I saw it, a glint in his eye. I had seen it a few times in the last 7 months. He became noticeably more excited and blurted, "A FIESTA, oh man, a Fiesta, I had a Fiesta, loved that car, absolutely loved it, best car I have ever had." We proceeded to have a long, passionate conversation, discussing something more akin to a pet or loved one than an inanimate collection of steel, rubber, and plastic.
For the longest time, my intention has been to write a final review of the car detailing the performance and quality. Then while reading "Go Like Hell" by A.J. Baime, I came across this quote,
"He (Enzo Ferrari) spoke of automobiles as if they were animate..."Ferrari's aim", he once told a reporter, addressing himself in the third person, "is to perfect an ideal, to transform inert raw material into a living machine."
The idea of a car as a living thing is far from recent. People have been naming their cars since the first Model T rolled off the assembly lines. For whatever reason, certain models are more prone to this phenomenon; Minis, Beetles, Vettes, and Stangs. These cars possess an x-factor that cannot be captured in a Motor Trend article or in a company brochure, it is something that you just feel. I have been lucky enough to own two lesser-known x-factor cars, an Audi 4KQ and an E30 BMW 325iX.
The Fiesta I drove to Mongolia possessed this intangible quality, and Ford seems to have accomplished the daunting task of retaining this soul in a modern package. I figured the best way to convey the x-factor of the new Fiesta would be through a couple stories. So here you go:
Story 1: The Moose Encounter
During the summer, I make the weekly commute from Bristol, Vermont to Boston by crossing Lincoln Gap. This affords me the opportunity to cruise Route 100 through one of Vermont's most underrated parcels of land, the Granville Gulf. It is a 7-mile stretch of 2-lane highway that snakes through pristine wilderness, passing spectacular waterfalls and dark swamps. In the morning, I typically leave the house around 4 am, hitting the Gulf by 4:30, ahead of the famous Vermont traffic congestion. By the middle of the summer, I was referring to my trip through the Gulf as an act of survival. On every drive, I spotted moose either along the side of the road or lurking in the shadows of the thick forest. As I neared the entry point, I would tense up, turn the fog lights on, all senses focused on spotting the big moving shadows. If you ever come close to a moose while driving, you really never want to again.
I had made it past the swamp section and was feeling confident as I rounded the first significant corner. There was a cliff to my right on the tight side and a guardrail to my left on the wide side. I was moving at a decent clip, enjoying the nimble cornering of the Fiesta. Suddenly a big black blob of moose appeared in the oncoming lane, running in the same direction as me, nearing the centerline. I had nowhere to go and no chance of stopping in time. Instincts take over in times like this and you depend on your car to match your instantaneous reactions. I dove deeper into the corner and accelerated to pass the moose. As expected, the lumbering beast started to veer into my lane as I darted by, hugging the corner so tightly that my mirror nearly scraped the cliff.
It was a narrow miss, to say the least, and I was unnerved, but relieved. I slowed down and refocused, knowing that I was only halfway through the danger zone. About a mile down the road, yet another shadow started to make a disturbing move toward the road. In contrast to the previous incident, this moose was on a direct collision course with the Fiesta, a classic car/beast t-bone. I slammed the brakes, the anti-locks taking over, keeping the trajectory of the car while robbing the Fiesta of its forward momentum. The car came to a complete halt as the moose pranced by, mere feet from the front bumper, sneering down at me. I leaned over the steering wheel and said out loud, "Thank you, Fiesta."
Story 2 - The Hillclimb
Since I started driving at age 12 on the backroads of Orwell, Vermont, I have been drawn to rapidly ascending hills. I am lucky to be in close proximity to some of the great hillclimbs of the Northeast. Driving from east to west over Middlebury Gap is perhaps the route that puts the biggest smile on my face.
About a month ago, I was on my way home from a particularly rough day of work in Boston, in need of a release. I turned off Route 100 onto Middlebury Gap, and instantly felt the Fiesta wanting to run. Here was a car I had been driving for 6 months over a distance of 30,000 miles, and it was suddenly feeling more eager, like a dog craving a game of fetch. Just as there are days when I need that game of fetch as an escape, this was a day that I needed to run with the car. Once past the final residential outpost, I dropped her into 3rd and launched into the money section of the climb. I am no expert in the art of driving, but every now and again I get zoned in. As the car flowed out of the second corner, I was in the zone, connected to the car, concentrating on the twists and turns in front of me. The car ripped up the road, charging ever harder, the electric steering and sport suspension providing intimate feedback and connection. I slowed to a crawl as the car summited, triumphant. With a pat on the dashboard, I said aloud, "good run, good run" and we started the slow, controlled descent.
The Finale
I have spent the last month hoping that Ford would decide to let us keep the Fiesta. I have been anxious at the thought of pulling the Euro plate off the front bumper of yet another Fiesta. Back in Mongolia, I actually shed a tear as I packed the plate from the original Fiestavus, and I suspect it may be the same in LA. It is silly and illogical, a piece of metal, plastic, and rubber that I am deeply connected to.
Maybe the next Fiesta that finds its way into my life will stay there a bit longer. In any case, I am confident that the connection will be there, once again.
I also had an Audi 4KQ, great car. And I love the hill climb too. I've done Pikes Peak in the Fiesta 4 times and the canyons near Boulder too often to count. It's been a good ride.
Jeremy