by Rashod Bacon

©Rashod Bacon for MotoringWhileBlack.com

So I got my first press car, a new Subaru BRZ from the good folks at Subaru USA. Somehow I went from being a fast and furious fan boy to a connoisseur of the Magnus Walker kool-aid to developing my own niche of car enthusiasm to partnering with brands like Race Service and Hot Wheels…and now we’re here. For those that are wondering how and why, the best answer I can give is this: I’ve been passionately obsessing over cars and actively engaging the local car community in Los Angeles for at least 10,000 hours. I’ve chosen this life over buying a house, getting married, or having kids. I don’t think those are prerequisites but, objectively, I have prioritized motoring enthusiasm over most other things in my life. For better or worse, this is the manifestation. Do I recommend it, no. Do I have any regrets, no. I feel like I’m exactly where I am supposed to be. If you’re reading this now, it sort of confirms that point. I also need to take a moment to acknowledge the countless individuals who have supported me and the Motoring While Black brand, both quietly and publicly. I sincerely thank you and hope I can live up to the hype of your endorsements and attention.

The variety of my recent vehicle ownership experiences have been kind of all over the place. I went from a Volkswagen GTI to a Shelby GT350 to a Porsche 911 to a vintage BMW 1602. When the opportunity to borrow a BRZ from Subaru presented itself, I must admit that I was more excited about the notion of getting a press car than I was thrilled about driving an underpowered, inexpensive Subi. It took me a couple of days to get going with the car. Initially, the BRZ felt like a step down from my old Porsche 997. At some point I decided to park the PCAR and fully embrace the 86-twin. I went on living my normal life but with a second generation WR Blue Pearl BRZ. I took my niece shopping. I went on night drives. I visited the Motoring Club. I did the things I always do but in a Subaru. As the odometer climbed, I really started to appreciate the whimsical nature of the lightweight car. Subaru managed to virtually eliminate the dramatic torque dip that plagued the prior generation so this car felt quick. It was fast enough for public roads. I was impressed by the everyday livability of the car. It was comfortable and had enough ground clearance to handle the decrepit city streets in Los Angeles. It had everything I needed and nothing more.

Towards the end of my loaner period, I set out to take some photos of the car. Golden hour in the Santa Monica Mountains usually breeds positive results. I decided I would go out as far as I could in hopes of avoiding traffic. Initially, my drive was slow and pensive. I tend to find myself in deep thought whenever I drive the canyons alone unless I’m maneuvering with intention. The pace was dictated by the sunlight and shadows. I spent about an hour looking for the perfect shots. I managed to get a few that I’m proud of.

I hit a stretch of narrow tarmac and it was no longer safe for heady meandering. These types of curves commanded full attention regardless of speed. In an instant, my drive was no longer about finding sun-kissed turnouts. The experience itself had shifted, from 1st to 2nd to 3rd. Suddenly, I was dancing on the limits; the limits of the law, the limits of the car, and the limits of my own skill. I danced on those limits until I became one with the machine, and the machine became one with the road.

My pace slowed as a familiar looking red car quickly approached me from the opposite direction. It was a Mazda Miata. The same ND Miata I had passed earlier in the drive but thought nothing of it. This passing felt more than coincidental.

As my adventure continued, I was filled with motoring pleasure. I went south on Yerba Buena, west on Mulholland. After a brisk sprint on PCH, I decided to go back in the canyons, like a kid who couldn’t bring himself to get out of a swimming pool to enjoy some charred hot dogs. I found myself on Encinal and Decker. At some point, I passed that Miata a third time. We passed each other so many times that we started to acknowledge each other with a simple hand gesture similar to the “Jeep Wave”.

Eventually, I ended up staring down the barrel of a road called Latigo Canyon. I thought to myself, I wonder how these brakes are holding up. I felt no fade as I pressed on, crusading as an automotive journalist filled with gratitude and glee…and then boom. That same red Miata appeared again. And then it hit me. No, not the Miata. The mission. The purpose. The reason cars like the Miata and BRZ exist. They were created for moments like these. Intimate and honest exchanges between man, machine, and a mountain road.

Although the car is quite handsome, the Subaru BRZ isn’t about snapping necks at the valet. It’s about having FUN on a curvy road, battling and befriending those who prefer the drop top variant made by Japanese rival, Mazda. It’s about the analog experience of rowing the gears and using the left foot whilst driving. To put it simpler, it’s a drivers car. Furthermore, the BRZ is about imagination. For all those Millennials and Zoomers who grew up wishing they would someday have enough money to build their own custom car. Now they can with a legit, affordable, and mostly reliable sports car from Subaru.

The BRZ is just that…obtainable and usable automotive fun. The new ZN8 chassis comes with several body kit options and tons of aftermarket support for the FA24D power plant. The possibilities of the platform are endless as has been demonstrated by time attackers, drifters, and car show stunners. My POV is that the 86-twins are exactly three fifths of anything you could want in a sports car. And that gap that Subaru and Toyota have left on the table seems intentional so that would-be owners could afford the car and make it their own.

As a South Central Angeleno kid turned suburban ATLien teenager, I grew up thinking the ‘64 Impalas in Dr. Dre’s videos were the pinnacle of motoring. So no, I didn’t grow up lusting Subarus… but maybe I should have.

Editorial Note: All photos were taken by Rashod Bacon using a Fujifilm X100V. All words were human generated. No AI was used in the making of this post.

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