Beginnings

There comes a time when a man takes a step back and looks at everything he has accomplished in his life. A career, a wife, a child, a home, the friendships he has built, the lessons he has learned. And in that moment of reflection he suddenly feels like something is missing. As if something was still left undone.

My moment of reflection came 6 weeks ago while sitting at the front desk at work. Somewhere between editing video footage and scheduling meetings I heard a sound that hasn't graced my eardrums in 10 years. The tell-tale sound of a rotary engine. Looking up from my desk I saw a weathered, tattered, beautiful, 1st generation RX7. It parked right in front of the window. I stared at it in awe and immediately began thinking back to my childhood...

It was my senior year of high school and I had endured two years of driving a burnt-red 85 Chevy Cavalier. It was a good car, but by no means the car every boy dreams about. After a few problems with the injectors and cpu, my father agreed to help me look for a new car. We happened into a small car lot just outside of town and noticed a sleek looking sports car. It was beige with brown interior and it was super clean. The salesman walked out to greet us and handed me a key. "Now son, this here car is real fun to drive. But you need to be aware of a few things. First, it is a stick shift. Second, it has a manual choke. And third, it don't got no pistons." Now I am all for unique, but when I heard him say, "no pistons" I knew I had to have that car.

We turned the key and she started right up. She was bone stock and idled like a Persian cat. She was so quiet I could barely tell she was running. I slipped the car into first gear and, with my Dad in the passenger seat, we took off down the service road. I watched the tach reach 7K and changed to second gear. The car pulled smooth as silk up to 7K again and now into third gear. It was like I was driving on air as I took a curve bringing third gear to a comfortable 4K. I looked down and realized we were doing 20 over the speed limit. Something my Dad was quick to point out. There was something innate about the handling of that car. The smooth power of that rotary engine and the tight cornering. It was as if the car and I had become one. I had 5 wonderful years with that car. But like all naive college kids, I sold her to pay off a measly $1000 credit card debt and I have regretted it ever since.

Somewhere in my daydream of driving back country roads with the windows down and the radio up, the phone rang and reality sunk in. Thus began a renewed obsession. I would look each evening out the front window hoping to get a glimpse of that car. I would make trips to my 2001 Toyota Sienna just so I could walk by that RX7 and look in the window. I started trolling the old RX7 web sites I used to know. I even owned an old website that has since been terminated. The 'Rotormaniac Website' I called it. Hosted by the now defunct Geocities, it paid homage and offered tips and information on all three generations of the car. Luckily for me, the Rx7club.com web site was still thriving.

I began looking through the For Sale ads and Craigslist hoping to find something I could afford. Finally it happened. I came across an 1983 GS model just an hour and a half from my house. The pictures looked promising and the ad said it started and ran fine. Best of all he was only asking $900. I begged my wife to let me look at it. After a week of pouting she agreed and, with cash in hand, we made the drive down.