We enthusiasts spend a lot of time searching for a taste of better days, and the Ford Fiesta ST became one such desired morsel. The “FiST” landed amidst the affordable driver’s car wars, an era that saw one hell of a surge in the early to mid-2010s. The NC Miata contested with the then-new Toyobaru twins, while 370Zs, Genesis Coupes, and V8 Mustangs delivered side-splitting laughter for the cost of today’s Camry. And at the lowest end of the spectrum sat the Fiesta ST, a subcompact anklebiter responsible for gaslighting an entire generation of Americans into thinking they were AliExpress Ken Block.
These tinker toy rally cars are now bargain bin buys. Ratty ones that have traveled to the moon and back command as little as six stacks. Minty-fresh, late-year ones rarely crest $17,000. Such value in an inflated economy where GTIs start at $32k brings the ST’s relevance and allure back into question. Thanks to a gracious owner and friend, I get to re-experience one of the car community’s favorite runts of recent history for a weekend and find out if it’s the perfect solution for our shallower pockets.
What Is It?
We all remember the little brother to the Focus ST and RS. Skepticisms surrounding it were almost immediately dismissed after people noted its value and driving dynamics. But that was between 2014 and 2019. It materialized then faded away pre-pandemic. Kiddos were born when it first arrived and are now completing the fifth grade.
A 1.6-liter EcoBoost four-banger summons 19 psi of boost to produce 197 horsepower and 202 pound-feet, blowing NC and ND Miatas out of the water. Mk7 Golf GTIs pushed 210 horsepower without the Performance Pack but weighed nearly 400 pounds more than the ST’s svelte 2,740 pounds. That’s nearly 100 pounds down on a Toyota GR86 and almost 200 pounds down on today’s Honda Civic Si. 0-60 in 6.7 seconds and quarter-miles in 15.0 at 94 miles per hour were hot on the heels of the BRZ/FR-S twins.
The standard interior is expectedly, um, standard, with cloth seats and acres of weirdly textured dashboard plastics that you can probably file your nails on. However, reckless spending at the dealerships earned you some baller Recaros, a moonroof, a larger infotainment display, and auto climate controls.
Specs:
Current Values: $6,000 to $16,000 (based on age and condition)
Powertrain: 1.6L turbocharged inline-four // 6-speed manual
Horsepower: 197 horsepower @ 6,350 RPM
Torque: 202 pound-feet @ 4,200 RPM
Seating Capacity: 5
Cargo Volume: 10.1 cubic feet (seats up), 25.4 cubic feet (seats down)
MPG: 26 city, 33 highway, 29 combined
Curb Weight: approx. 2,740 pounds
Turn A Drab Commute Into A Fiesta
I was giddy when my friend, for whom I was dogsitting in exchange for a weekend with her keys, handed me her 73,000-mile, mildly modded example. We’re talking stancy-boy coilovers, a Mountune exhaust, Rotiform wheels, a delightfully goofy blow-off valve, and no shortage of Pokémon merch. Even the badges are orange, because Charmander.
It rattles a bit, not nearly as much as expected. The stance did a number on one of the fender liners, which shrieks during slow, sharp right-hand turns, and the paint shows a bit of age on some panels. It also violently protests the existence of sharp road imperfections with harsh impacts, which you wouldn’t initially expect because it’s decently damped everywhere else. Could just be stiff springs. But other than the quirks of this particular example, Fiesta STs turn the Nine-to-Five Grand Prix into child’s play.
Vast expanses of glass and blind-spot mirrors mean literal blindness is your only excuse for hitting things. The trunk is decent for weekend trips, and my friend has proven its family car worth shoehorning in a certified chonker of a baby seat, which still leaves ample, if snug, passenger space on either side.
Scoring a 2017-and-up car or updating the older Ford infotainment systems nets you CarPlay and Android Auto. Bluetooth or wired audio connections sync quickly and are controlled by a responsive 8-inch touchscreen. The only aspects indicating that the interface is of another era are the comparatively small screen size and the CD slot, if anyone still has a Now That’s What I Call Music disc.
And then there’s its knack for effortless hypermiling despite its sporting pretensions. 75 miles per hour on level ground nets 40-plus MPG, easily eclipsing its EPA figures of 26 city and 33 highway, with enough torque to pass without downshifting. My friend averaged 30.4 during her tenure, with the trip computer indicating 364 miles of range with a full 12.4-gallon tank.
Eat your heart out, Corollas. And Miatas, too, while we’re at it.
A Front-Drive Miata Wagon?
Of the three and a half days I drove my friend’s FiST, a single quick jaunt to a canyon had me rediscover what I keep forgetting about this perennial favorite. Just as Miatas and 86s are tactile palette cleansers dismissing the trend of fattened, numbed, overcomplicated sports cars, so is the Fiesta, but with usable rear seats and a hatch.
The electrically assisted steering is reactive, appropriately weighted, and does an exemplary job at translating road surface and suspension load changes into tangible sensations. Torque steer is present, but totally negligible. There’s enough oomph to momentarily shred the front tires with a gentle shimmy, and that’s it.
Its handling feels more impressive today, considering the lack of tech. There are no adaptive dampers, intricate drive modes, or even a limited-slip diff, although there’s brake vectoring instead, which works seamlessly without overtaxing the tiny yet effective brakes. You sure as hell won’t threaten any Hyundai Ns, but you’re still in a corner with a ferocious featherweight, quick on its feet with a pleasant resistance to understeer. With a hint of trail braking, you’re more likely to drift into a wall rather than plow into one.
In contrast, the EcoBoost is perhaps the least interesting part. This car is all about faux-rally shenanigans, while the motor is merely a means to an end. Stock cars are mute and uninteresting but can be rectified with a tasteful exhaust and perhaps a silly blow-off valve, like what my friend has equipped, introducing a bassy hum and giggle-inducing whooshes.
Like many EcoBoosts, it fizzles out up top and doesn’t really care if you hit the 6,400-rpm redline, so long as you’re already at peak torque. On the plus, the engine is undoubtedly effective, with a hearty midrange that arrives steadily to press you into your seat. It mates its power perfectly with this chassis and that delectable six-speed that rocks one of the most satisfying shifters this side of a Honda. Gears slot into place precisely with a mechanical sensation and a clutch that’s brainless to operate.
Obviously, when built to an absurdly low price point, there will be nitpicks, from the awkwardly low-mounted gear lever to the pathetically bolstered base seats and the stock powertrain’s hush-hush lack of any thu’um or charm. There were also infamous issues with blend door actuators practicing their drum routine and cars overheating during hard driving, which strangely didn’t affect all stock cars but did indeed plague a notable handful. Thankfully, solutions exist for most ergonomic, quality control, or dynamic bones you have to pick.
If it seems like I’m glazing a decade-old, front-wheel-drive Ford with such fervent desire, it’s because I am. But before you blast little ole’ me, I urge you to listen to (or also blast) everyone else who experienced one, from seasoned journalists to companions who cleared a space in their garages for one.
“I prefer the way the Fiesta ST drives to the Focus ST,” MotorTrend’s Marc Noordelos commented in a long-term test update of a 2014 car. “The smaller Ford is more fun, and has a better balance between power and chassis dynamics.”
“There is just enough handling for the power at hand… or just enough power for the handling, depending on your point of view,” Car and Driver’s Alexander Stoklosa praised after driving a 2017-year car. “The handling is eminently predictable, the steering quick and communicative. Like the Miata, this is a car with which you could easily use to teach a newbie how to drive quickly.”
“In a great example of how front-drive street cars can handle, the rear just hints at rotation when you press hard, but it doesn’t do big slides unless provoked,” MotorTrend’s Carlos Lago wrote during 2014’s Best Driver’s Car, where it came sixth out of ten contestants, beating out the Mk7 GTI and VA WRX STI by prioritizing laughs over speed on track where its absolute limits are exploited. “A car this inexpensive placing this high in Best Driver’s Car is remarkable, and some wondered why it didn’t place even higher. When it comes to fun, the Fiesta ST is a giant-killer.”
A Gold Standard In Cheap Thrills, Now and Forever
In an old listicle I wrote for PRNDL regarding my favorite cars, I remembered that I summarized the Fiesta ST as such: “It teaches us it’s truly not about the size of the dog in the fight but rather the size of the fight in the dog,” and later pointing out, “Yes, it’s a bargain-bin runt with less than 200 horsepower, yet here I am, ranking it within a breath of Supras and STIs.”
Even after sampling higher-performing titans in my career, both brand-new and from decades past, the Fiesta still stands strong eleven years after its launch through balance, confidence, and driver communication made affordable. Its ace tricks wooed many, enough to convince friends and even other journos like Jonny Lieberman and Matt Farah to buy their own. At one point, four close friends each had one to call their own at the same time. Four, dammit. Each regards their STs as a canon event that greatly influenced their tastes. One of them still has his.
Anecdotes aren’t data, but all of these experiences sure as hell mean something. They mean we don’t have to look far for cheap-yet-practical thrills when a benchmark was here all along.
