Monday, June 15th, 2020. 8:58 PM.

After a weekend trip to my parent's house in Pinckney, Michigan, I was back on the road, on my way home to Minnesota. Ambling along the interstate at an easy pace of 75 MPH, the drive was nearly as enjoyable as the trip itself. I was sitting high and mighty in my recently acquired black 2010 5 speed Mazda 3 Hatchback Sport. In the past, the cars I had owned were all beaters, just ways to get from point A to point B. This car, however, was an entirely new experience.

The first car that made me actually get out of the car mid-drive to take a picture.

It gave me a spark of joy, a feeling of connection with the car. It was my second Mazda, but this one was different than the first. It was newer, cleaner, and cooler. I remember actually swinging by the local dollar store for some microfiber towels and a cheap interior cleaner to freshen up my slick new ride. I even brought it through the automatic car wash once or twice!

Cruising along I-90 in the left lane, the unthinkable happened. A deer popped up out of the median and onto the road, taking me completely by surprise, and giving me less than a second to react. Unable to swerve out of it's way, I slammed on the brakes, then slammed into the deer. I estimate I was still going around 70 MPH. The deer must have jumped, because the car's front bumper was untouched. The hood, however, was severely caved in. I looked under the car and saw coolant leaking everywhere. I knew instantly that the deer had achieved it's goal:

My car was totaled.

After cursing deerkind into oblivion, I called the police and was soon escorted to a nearby motel to stay the night while my car was towed to a junkyard. After hitching a ride home with some friends, (and treating them to Texas Roadhouse as thanks) I spent the next few days searching online for a replacement Mazda. It was during this search that I stumbled upon a listing for a red 2010 Mazdaspeed 3, the enhanced performance version of the car I had just lost.

"Dang, that thing's beautiful!" I thought, admiring the car's sportier appearance. I continued my search, however, not realizing the lasting impact that moment would have. I wasn't in the market for a performance car, or to spend any more money than necessary. I just wanted another regular Mazda 3, so that's what I focused on. Little did I know that seeing that Speed for sale would plant a seed deep in my mind. The Speed seed that would slowly but surely bloom into a full blown obsession.

Eventually, I settled on a white 2011 Mazda 3i Touring Sedan. It had a manual transmission and it got the job done, but it was considerably more boring than my previous Mazda. As time went on, I started missing my old hatchback, and found myself thinking more and more of that beautiful Speed I had seen for sale. It was everything I truly wanted. Much faster, much cooler, and in Velocity Red Mica, the perfect car color in my opinion.

I started some casual research on Mazdaspeed 3's. The more I read, the more I learned, and the more photos I saw of those beautiful cars, the more my interest grew.

The car sounded perfect.

It was basically a vastly improved version of my prior Mazda in every aspect. Still, it was out of my price range, and I had just purchased a replacement Mazda anyways. It would stay a dream car for now. More time went on, yet I couldn't put the Speed out of my mind. Perhaps if I had replaced my totaled Mazda with another hatchback sport model, I would have been satisfied. But the plain white Mazda just wasn't doing it for me, and I grew increasingly frustrated at how boring and slow it was.

What I got, next to what I should have got.

One weekend, a silver Speed popped up for sale at a nearby dealership. I instantly made the decision to head there and test drive what may very well be my next car. Being used to my squashy, non performance Mazda, I was pleasantly surprised at how light and responsive the Speed's clutch was. It seemed like it WANTED to be engaged, not resisting it.

"This thing pulls!" I thought, making full use of the turbo. It was a blast. The car was everything I hoped it would be. A faster, stiffer ride meant any type of straight stretch or corner could now be navigated with a certain level of energy, aggression, recklessness, or whatever mood you were in that called for excessive speed. I was thrilled at finally having driven a Speed, and it only further enhanced my desire for one.

Soon, I had done enough dreaming and obsessing over Speeds that I came to the conclusion that it was something I truly wanted, and something I had the capacity to save up for. I officially set my sights to the stars and posted on social media that a Mazdaspeed 3 WILL be my next car. But not just my next daily driver, when the time came for a replacement. I wanted it NOW. I wanted it as my special weekend car, one that I could enjoy on my days off and give it the time and attention it deserved.

My plan was to search the entire country for the best Speed I could find. Not the lowest mile example possible, but a 2013, (The last year the Speed was produced) in red, preferably one owner, and perhaps most importantly, stock. Speeds were notorious for being excessively and untastefully modified, and I wanted no part of that. I wanted a fresh, unmolested example that I could prune as I saw fit. My only plans for modding were modest and strictly visual: a front lip, mud flaps, and a nicer shift knob. Later on, I would also remove the front and rear wipers for enhanced symmetry. (Wipers weren't necessary as I rarely drove in the rain and had hydrophobic ceramic coated glass anyways.)

The hunt began.

Every day, I would scour the internet for the latest Speeds for sale. The main site I used was Cargurus, which allowed me to search the entire country and filter by year, color, price, etc. My sights were set on a stock red 2013, but I loved browsing and seeing every Speed available. The car was a work of art, and it was fascinating to see the different ways people had put their own touches on it. Every once in a while, I'd see one in a custom color: Green, gold, yellow, even a purple one. Plenty of them were lowered and had custom wheels, which I loved the look of, but never planned on doing myself. A couple had some incredibly obnoxious aftermarket spoilers planted on the back, which made the car look like it was owned by a 12 year old. On the mechanical side, plenty had aftermarket turbos, exhausts, and other various means of improving power and noise. One of them was actually a fully converted race car meant only for the track. I found it surprising how often I saw listings where the owner had spent nearly as much money on mods as the entire car itself. How is that even possible? Why buy a Speed if you're going to be that unsatisfied with the performance? Why not just spend that money on a more powerful car that would likely be much more reliable than your overly modded Speed and would also hold that extra value? (Here's to the guys who think $15k in mods add $15k in resale value.) There were several reasons why I never wanted performance mods:

1. I had test driven a Speed near home and was more than happy with the stock power.

2. They were considerably more expensive compared to visual mods.

3. I'm somewhat mechanically declined so that type of work would likely overwhelm me and I'd probably break something in the process.

4. They would only lower the car's reliability and lifespan. I was in it for a good time AND a long time.

5. They would only lower the car's resale value in the off chance that I would ever sell it. Modding is a very personal thing and a stock car is worth much more to a buyer like myself.

Weeks of searching turned into months. Out of all the Speeds available, only a small percentage of them were 2013 in red. Ones that were within my budget had issues such as a few too many previous owners, a few too many miles, modded, etc. Ones that didn't have those issues were outside my budget. I was picky, but I was patient. The longer it took, the more money I was able to save up and as a result, the closer I got to finding one I was happy with.

Over half a year after I began my search, fate threw me a curveball.

A dealer in California had listed a stock, 1 previous owner, low mile, red 2013 Speed for sale. It was perfect, but it was also too expensive. Price aside, it still intrigued me. I have screenshots of every detail of the car's original listing. I would go back regularly and check to see if it had sold, or if the price had dropped. Over a month later, it was still for sale, but a lot of other people had their eye on it, too. 32 people had saved that specific listing on the website. At that time, I had now saved enough money that I could have bought the car, but it would be nearly every penny I had. I didn't quite want to empty the bank. I decided to throw out a last ditch effort by calling the dealership. I gave them a lowball offer, mentioning that the car hadn't sold after sitting at that price for over a month. They said no. I sheepishly called them back a few minutes later with a slightly raised offer, to which they replied,

"Didn't you just offer X price?"

I was embarrassed, but they gave me a deal. If the car still hadn't sold in a few weeks, they might reconsider. This gave me some hope. It had already been over a month, surely it could go a few more weeks, right? Nervous about waiting that long, however, I called them back a day or two later and raised my offer again. The car must have really captured my heart, because when the dealer told me that someone had applied for financing to purchase it, my heart sank. It felt like it was already mine and I had lost it. I called my girlfriend Isabel and lamented that I should have just coughed up and paid full price. That beautiful car had pulled my budget all the way up without me realizing it. The car was perfect, and who knows how long until another Speed that good came up for sale again? Isabel gave me a simple suggestion that changed everything.

"Why not call them and offer full price up front? They'd probably prefer that over someone financing it."

I hadn't considered that, but it made perfect sense! The dealership is a business, after all. Heart pounding fast, I called them up yet again. After my stammered offer, they agreed that after an initial down payment, they would indeed hold it for me until I flew out there to purchase it in full. It was official! I happened to be in the car with my brother, and I gave him a quick warning.

"Cover your ears." I said, then cheered at the top of my lungs.

The Speed was officially mine!!

I couldn't believe it. I had went from anxiously hoping it wouldn't sell, to believing it was the one that got away, to finalizing a deal to make it my own after all. Even though I'd be paying full price, a price that was considerably higher than my initial budget, I felt lucky. I sometimes wonder if the dealer realized how desperate I was after all my calls and lied about someone applying for financing to try to squeeze the full price out of me. Either way, I didn't care. I was committed.

I booked a one way flight to San Francisco, about 10 days out from making the deal. It would be a nearly 2000 mile journey home from the dealership, and I looked forward to the entire trip. I'd be driving through sun, snow, rain, and salt, and every mile would be spent in my brand new Mazdaspeed 3. I couldn't be more excited. To me, this was the perfect way to buy one's dream car. A cross country cruise, spending some quality time behind the wheel and really getting to know the ins and outs of the vehicle.

I landed at San Francisco International Airport at nearly midnight. Starving, I wandered around in search of a food joint that would be open at this hour. After demolishing a burger that had nearly half an entire onion on it, I found a secluded corner of the airport to curl up and attempt to get some sleep. This was during the Covid era, and about every 2 minutes, the intercom drilled it's warnings about Covid restrictions and mask wearing to the entire airport. My brain must have started to get used to hearing it, shutting off after hearing the first few words for the hundredth time.

"Your attention, please. Federal law prohibits-" And then back to a fitful sleep.

7 AM rolled around, and my aching body told me to get up. Tired and sore though I was, I realized that today was the day. In just a few hours, I'd finally meet my Speed, which energized me much more than my morning coffee and breakfast burrito ever could. I booked an Uber for the first time, and directed him to San Jose, nearly an hour away. Cruising through sunny San Francisco felt surreal. Just yesterday, I was in snowy Minnesota, and now I was in the Mecca of car culture, the weather feeling like a balmy Spring day, passing palm trees and In-And-Out Burgers, on the way to pick up my dream car.

Suddenly, there it was.

The first picture I ever took of the Speed. Begone, bird bomb!

Pulling into a nondescript shared business parking lot, the Speed shone out of the monochrome surroundings like a star. It was beautiful. My heart swelled and tears filled my eyes as - Just kidding. But it was quite the moment nonetheless. Despite my excitement at finally meeting my car, my eyes zeroed in on a fat bird bomb on the passenger door, and it was a painful jab to my detailer's brain. (Bird poop is highly acidic and will etch paint if left long enough, especially in the sun.) Knowing the first thing I'd do after leaving the dealership would be to hit up the nearest touchless car wash, I calmed down enough to enter the building. 10 minutes of pleasantries later, I headed back out with the keys for a quick test drive.

I unlocked the car, opened the door, and stepped inside my new universe.

Boy, did it feel good. It smelled fresh, well cared for, and there was hardly a blemish, although someone had left an ugly pair of sunglasses and some melting chapstik in the driver's door pocket. Rolling my eyes, I turned the key. The Speed let out an ear-splitting ROAR of life. Just kidding. But it certainly did give a low growl that suggested an eagerness to get out on the road.

Cruising around the suburbs of San Jose, I couldn't stop smiling. The Speed was perfect. The clutch was, if anything, even lighter and more responsive than the one I test drove months prior. It simply felt incredible. The California scenery was only improved when viewed through the windshield of my new car, the bright red hood underlining and beautifying every sight.

Back at the dealership, I finalized the purchase and stepped back out to MY brand new Mazdaspeed 3. What a moment. It was official! I took picture after picture, then headed to a bigger, emptier parking lot to take picture after picture. I swung through a touchless car wash, then took picture after picture. I pulled into a gas station for it's first fuel up, and took picture after picture. After taking pictures of every possible angle of the car, I took just a few more pictures. Once I fueled myself with some Little Caesars, the journey began.

2000 miles of smiles lay ahead of me.

Normally, a road trip can't end soon enough, but I was thrilled at the length of this one. It wasn't just a road trip. It was an adventure. I wound my way out of the city, and entered the vast landscapes of central California, which provided some fantastic photo opportunities. Of the car.

Slowly but surely, the elevation rose. I was gradually climbing the Sierra Nevada mountains, and the temperatures were dropping at an alarming rate, no longer feeling like Springtime. It had to happen sooner or later. It was February, after all. Snow started to fall, and I kept seeing road signs notifying truckers of the requirement of tire chains. I hadn't realize I'd be driving over some serious mountains, and my nerves were slightly on edge. Eventually, I reached Donner Pass, one of the snowiest places in the country with evidence backing that claim. A blizzard was in full swing and a ski resort was open right alongside the highway. I pulled into a McDonald's that was mercifully open, warmed up with a few Hot-N-Spicy McChickens, then headed back out. This time, I'd be going down the mountain, not up. After 45 minutes of coasting and braking, the land leveled out, and I eased into casual road trip mode. A cup of coffee and a box of Hot Tamales at my elbow, the miles rolled by in energized bliss.

Really, this was the life.

I entered Utah shortly past midnight, and around 2 AM, I got tired enough to pull into a gas station parking lot to doze off for a few hours. The weather was freezing, so I left the Speed running, cranked the heat, and attempted to curl up in the backseat. She wasn't spacious, but it was enough. 6 or 7 AM rolled around, and despite the short sleep, I was juiced up and ready to drive again. The early morning snowy landscape yielded some truly spectacular sights. The chilly grey light illuminating miles of flat, empty ground with looming, snow-capped mountains in the distance. Believe it or not, I took plenty of pictures.

Always take your roadside picture from the opposite side of the road.

Unless the cool background is on the other side.

Soon, I was passing through the Bonneville Salt Flats, and this was something of a predicament. Salt is a detailer's worst nightmare. As beautiful as the landmark was, I wanted no part of it. In Salt Lake City, anxious to rid the Speed of as much salt as possible, I brought the car through a tunnel wash for it's first and only time of my ownership. Desperate times call for desperate measures. Yet, upon leaving the salty city, a generous layer of salt settled back onto the car. Sigh.

The land grew steadily more empty and dead, a sure sign that I was now in Wyoming. Starting in the southwest corner and working my way up to the northeast, it was easy to see why the state had a population of only 500,000. Practically nothing changed from corner to corner: Wide, empty landscapes, the occasional small western ghost town, and plenty of tumbleweed. Also, wind. An unhealthy, excessive amount of it. As boring as the state was, it was a strangely satisfying experience driving through it in a shiny, bright red, out-of-place sports car. The stark contrast made the car feel all the more special.

Soon, I entered civilization again in the city of Gillette. I swung through a touchless car wash before heading to Moorcroft for the night. I'd be seeing my girlfriend in about 30 minutes, so naturally I didn't want to squander the opportunity to score some brownie points. You simply don't pull up in a dirty car if you're trying to impress your girlfriend. I arrived in Moorcroft, stepped luxuriously out, and saw the thick layer of filth that had once again settled onto the car. Sigh.

A few days and a few burnouts later, I was on the road again, heading home to Minnesota. In Rapid City, I swung by another touchless car wash to maximize enjoyment of my homeward journey. (Also, you simply don't pull in a dirty car if you're trying to impress your neighbors.) I'm kidding. I was still 9 hours from home, but the cleaner the car, the better the drive. If you ever want to Revive The Drive, simply wash your car. The scenery looks way better through a clean windshield. Not only that, but your car will appreciate the care and attention you give it and will reward you with more smiles per gallon.

With home on the horizon, my thoughts turned more and more to all the detailing I was itching to dive into. Washing, polishing, ceramic coating, etc. My workplace had a large shop with plenty of space for detailing, and even better, it's own wash bay.

I couldn't wait to pull up in my clean car and wash it.

It didn't matter if the Speed was spotless. This would be it's first hand wash, and aside from driving, there's no better way to bond with your car. I finally arrived home to Watertown, Minnesota, and promptly headed to the shop the give the Speed a proper Watertown welcome. My brother, who also worked there and also drove a Mazda, joined me for a wash party.

It was a beautiful sight, generations 1 and 2, both hatchback, one red and one blue. (At one point, we had all 3 Mazdas grouped together to form a red, white and blue Mazda lineup that brought tears of patriotic joy to one's eye.)

Aaah, the feeling of finally washing my Speed by hand. It was pure therapy. Getting to know every inch of the car, washing all the nooks and crannies that an automatic car wash could never touch. The soap I used (and still use to this day) was Meguiar's Gold Class Car Wash. Aromatherapy at it's finest. I didn't have a foam cannon yet, so I used the tried and true 2 bucket method with a wash mitt. One bucket for soapy water, one for rinsing.

Once the weekend arrived, I headed to the shop early in the morning to get started with all the cleansing, prepping, and protecting the Speed truly deserved. I started with another thorough wash, followed by a very thorough clay bar treatment to remove embedded schmutz in the paint, of which there was quite a lot. I worked very slowly, savoring the task. If I remember right, I spent 4 hours claying the car. Insane. I dried the paint with the help of compressed air, then got started on the paint correction. At this early stage in my detailing journey, I went to the extremes of performing each task as safely as possible. I went as far as cutting a hole in the bottom of a bucket, taping a shop vacuum hose to the bottom, and using that as a dedicated suction device to safely blow out my polishing pads into. Totally redundant, but I enjoyed going to the extremes. Nothing less than the best when it came to my beloved Speed.

Having discovered the genius of detailing guru Larry Kosilla of AMMO NYC, I based all my work off his teachings. Larry was a person who, like me, went beyond the norm of traditional car enthusiast. With his own line of detailing products all created by him, and his passion for cleaning and caring for cars so obvious, I chose his brand of ceramic coatings to protect my Speed. I wanted the best, and I knew this was a brand I could trust and support. 5 years on, and having met Larry in person, I can say that I was absolutely right in choosing AMMO, and I'll continue to use AMMO ceramic products for my business.

Plasti Dipping emblems is a very aesthetic process.

When it came to ceramic coating the Speed, this is where I made my first significant mistake. The prepping and applying process went fine, and so did buffing off. (Or so I thought) After curing overnight, I pulled the Speed out into the daylight to admire it in all it's shiny beauty, but to my dismay, I found that I hadn't buffed off the coating thoroughly enough. There were subtle, yet noticeable rainbowing effects on several areas of the car. I had left "high spots" in the coating that had fully cured. While not the prettiest result, I took comfort in knowing that at least the Speed was properly protected now, and told myself that this was a lesson well learned. Later on, I would end up polishing the entire car again and re-applying ceramic coatings, this time making EXTRA sure I sufficiently buffed off the coating.

Touching up rock chips with OEM Velocity Red Mica.

With the Speed now home, cleaned and protected, the world took on a new beauty. I went everywhere, exploring the streets, suburbs, and cities. Every weekend turned into a different adventure. Going nowhere turned into going somewhere, because the Speed was always the destination. It didn't matter where I was or where I was going. Driving was what I looked forward to the most. You could take a simple trip to the grocery store and it would be an absolute joy. Feeling the turbo kick in, hitting corners a little faster than strictly necessary, walking to and from the car and always turning back to admire it from afar. Those moments always made me smile. Sometimes, I'd forget for a second that I had driven the Speed, or else been at home and happened to glance out the window. My eyes would instantly dart to the bright red Speed like it was under a spotlight, and it would just hit me all over again, like I was seeing it again for the first time.

"Wow. What a beautiful machine."

The greatest A&W on Earth. Dexter, Michigan.

Fellow gen 2 red hatchback! Not a Speed though.

Fellow red hatchback Speed! Not a gen 2 though.

The next several years provided countless good times and memories with that car. I drove it 140 MPH on my wedding night. I brought it all the way to Michigan, and got to feed it 93 Octane for the first time. I gave it a face lift with a Corksport front lip and RallyArmor mudflaps. I brought it to Denver to attend the AMMO Masterclass, where Larry Kosilla signed the dashboard. I started my business with my Speed as the mascot and frequent content provider. I brought it to Taco Bell. I washed it hundreds of times, in many different ways and with many different products, drove it thousands of miles, through many different landscapes, through fair weather and foul, and never once got bored of it. The Speed was always there when I needed an outlet for my passions of driving and detailing. She'd crank right up, always as enthusiastic as me for the next weekend adventure. She never complained about getting dirty, since she knew I'd always be there to give her a bath at the end of a long day. And she never, ever failed to remind me what started it all.

REVIVE THE DRIVE.

DRIVEN HOME: The story of finding, buying, and driving my dream car HOME

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