When I bought my 2005 Mazda3 hatchback, I was looking for a fuel efficient car to haul band and bicycle gear.

I researched small hatchbacks and concluded that the Mazda3 offered the best bang for the buck: a relatively large 2.3L 4 cylinder engine, an automatic transmission that the wife could drive, and even a “manual mode” that allowed the driver to change gears manually.

To boot, the Mazda3 hatchback’s final assembly location was Hiroshima, so I figured that I would benefit from the Japanese work ethic that produced the car.

I rolled up to the Mazda dealer and said to the sales person: “If Nissan made a compact hatchback, I would buy it in a heartbeat.” * That was about a month before I learned Nissan would release the Versa.

That day, I made perhaps the single worst financial mistake in my life: I traded a perfectly good 2002 Hyundai Accent for a truly atrocious car.

I knew this car was going to be trouble the first week of ownership. The engine had trouble firing when the key was turned directly from Off to Start: it was one of those cars that needed the key to be in the “On” position to prime the fuel pump for a second or two before engaging the starter motor.

While I accepted the workaround, a 2005 fuel injected car should not behave this way. The wife’s 2005 Quest, a big 3.5L v6, starts up just fine without needing the key in the “On” position to prime the pump.

The ECU was programmed in a barbarous way that, when cold, would throw your back out during the first shift from 1st to 2nd gears. The phenomenon merited its own Service Bulletin known as “Shift Shock” and was apparently attributed to old ladies and me who couldn’t handle their new “performance car”.

In the mornings I would anxiously start the car, watch the gear indicator tic from 1 to 2, and wait, sometimes several seconds, for the shock. I distinctly remember getting wheelspin one time. Mind you, this is a FWD car with a 2.3L I4 engine and automatic transmission: front wheelspin between 1st and 2nd takes a bit of talent.

I tried every combination of throttle control; the shock even occurred with the foot completely off the accelerator during the gear shift. Mazda finally released an ECU flash upgrade that killed the shock, though IMO it only lessened the violence.

The rear brakes wore horrendously. 15k miles was about all I could expect from Mazda brake pads, and I’m not an aggressive braker. At 57k I finally replaced with OEM and when I sold at 75k, they were hardly worn.

So far, these seemed like minor gripes about a car that I truly wanted to love. But after 50k miles, things started to go south.

The liquid engine mount burst at 52k (!), damaging the transmission and power steering pans. The damage could have been much worse, and to salt the wound, the car was just out of warranty. The mechanic confirmed that this failure was ubiquitous among Mazda3s, usually occurring just after the warranty expired.

Vital coolant & heater hoses burst before 75k, leaving me stranded on three separate occasions. Thank God for AAA. The owner’s manual revealed that all coolant hoses should be replaced at 60k, so I figured this was my own fault for lack of maintenance. But a review of my maintenance records reveals that at just over 60k, I took the car to the dealer and specifically asked them to check the belts and hoses. I don’t want to cast blame elsewhere, but the dealer should have advised me that hoses were due for replacement.

In addition to the host of mechanical issues, the car had more than its share of minor annoyances:

The A-pillar creates a huge blind spot where I couldn’t see pedestrians and cyclists when pulling up to red lights, not to mention those left-hooking cars from across the street.

The B-pillar presented its own problem. I’m very fastidious about checking my blind spot before changing lanes, but even a quick glance over the left shoulder was always thwarted by the B-pillar’s girth.

I might have liked the power from the 2.3L I4 engine but the auto tranny lost it all in slush. Hills in 2nd gear were abominable: 2nd gear was way too tall and 1st wasn’t tall enough.

The big 4 cylinder engine should have been a great compromise between fuel efficiency and power, but the power was never delivered through the automatic transmission. It was the worst compromise possible: the car was neither fast nor efficient.

Speaking of the transmission, the tiptronic or whatever-you-call-it manual mode is a joke. I don’t know whether manufacturers are still outfitting automatic transmissions with a “manual select” mode, but they should stop right now. Maybe Mercedes is doing it right, but for us plebians, an automatic transmission will never respond like a manual.

The one-touch window rolldown never worked properly. This issue had a Service Bulletin that the dealer did not honor because I didn’t raise the issue before the car was out of warranty and because the fix entailed a bit of labor to take apart the door. This wasn’t a huge deal to me, but added to my other gripes, it carries a bit more weight.

Rolling up the windows often began with a disconcerting, loud “clunk” that also had a Service Bulletin, yet once again I was out of warranty and the dealer claimed they couldn’t reproduce the behavior. I always felt that rolling down the window was risky since I didn’t know whether the power window motor would crap out upon rolling it back up.

To top things off, the car was just plain uncomfortable. The driver’s seat is a form-fitting bucket seat built for skinny high school kids. At first, it seems comfy, but after an hour of commuting, the seat feels downright torturous.

None of my friends fit in the rear seats, especially behind the driver’s seat. To keep my knees from bumping up against the steering wheel, I needed the driver seat far enough back that the unfortunate soul behind had to sit with their knees awkwardly pointed to the middle of the car. Riding shotgun provided little help, as the passenger seat is quite low to the ground and suffers the same form-fitting seat as the driver. The thing with form-fitting is that it depends whose form it’s fit to.

I accept mechanical failure due to lack of maintenance or age, but for the most part I kept up on maintenance. Mechanical failures of the sort I experienced have never happened to me with any car at the age and mileage of the Mazda3.

I wanted to love this car. On paper, it appeared to offer everything I could want in a compact car, but on the road this car proved to be a total lemon. And apparently I’m not alone: there are a ton of Technical Service Bulletins for this car.

All in all, a big fat fart turd of a car, and now that it’s gone, I feel a huge weight lifted from my shoulders.

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* Seriously. I actually said that when the sales person asked what kind of car I was looking for.