Toss Me

In the dry, the Mazda is more like a race car than the Fit. Although the suspension is only mildly changed, the racing version is tossable and very responsive to throttle inputs. Gently lift off the gas and it tucks in nicely. Lift big time and the tail snaps into a slide. It turns in sharply and grips hard—to the tune of 1.3 g in some corners. The steering is swift and responsive, the brake pedal is firm and easy to modulate, and the shifter is slick.

The Fit doesn’t feel as racy, mainly because it’s softer than the 2, rolling more than we’d like on corner entry. Plus, you sit high, because the driver’s seat lives over the gas tank, as it does in the street model. However, the Fit’s short gearing and more powerful engine allow you to run through corners in a higher gear, and the longer wheelbase makes it more benign in transient maneuvers. It stops really well, too, even if its pedal is a little mushy compared with the 2’s.

The 2 wasn’t as easy to drive in adverse conditions as the Fit. The relatively stiff setup and its short wheelbase conspire to make it twitchy; on dry tires in the rain, a slight mid-corner lift would lead to heroic amounts of opposite lock—or a spin. With rain tires, the 2 became much friendlier, but it was still tail happy if you were injudicious with the throttle.

The Fit, though, was a blast in the damp. The combination of a longer wheelbase, a softer suspension, and more torque and power, which gives greater adjustability with the throttle, meant you could toss it around like a tall, narrow sprint car. The number of times I drove around Miatas and Acura RSXs in wet corners was amazing. Were I driving a Miata and found myself holding up a Honda Fit, I’d be tempted to hang up my helmet and walk away from the sport. As Pagenaud said, “Guys do not like it when you go past them in the Fit.”