The JDM Dream Begins With My 1987 Nissan Be-1

I actually did it. I did what I had always dreamed of doing yet never thought possible, and I did so in the best and worst ways imaginable. Finally, I pulled the trigger on my first classic, my first Japanese car, my first import, and the first vehicle to expand my collection beyond my tried-and-true Ford Mustang. Okay, so this is perhaps the farthest possible thing from the Midnight Purple R33 GT-R of my dreams in every conceivable way aside from the brand, but hey. We all start somewhere. 

Say hello to my latest nonsensical impulse buy and leaky little sliver of Japanese motoring, my 1987 Nissan Be-1.

Growing up, we all had gleaming hopes of what our idyllic garage lineups would include. Some kids were all about American muscle. Others sought to turn their supercar fantasies into reality. And then there are the millions of youngins seeking to appease the Fast & Furious gods with goals of Japanese tuner supremacy. 

And then there’s me, a wanderer in the car community with no hardened affiliation to any niche but a desire to love and experience it all. I own a Mustang and seek to step up from a six-banger to a proper V8 in the near future. I grew up surrounded by Asian car culture yet found myself the most intrigued by the Germans and Americans. And, of course, I could never say no to the finest from Maranello or Sant’Agata. I wanted it all.

But of course, as I grew older, I had to be honest with myself to narrow my focus on my absolute favorites that I had to own before I bit the dust. So what was something I clammored for the most, non-stop and never waning in interest over the years? 

Nissan Skyline GT-R. Mainly, I was dead smitten with the middle-child R33, whose styling, inside and out, I found to be unabashedly ’90s while sacrificing little in its Godzilla status, no matter how much the internet keyboard warriors will say it’s unworthy and inferior. 

Did I want one? You bet I did. Could I afford one? You bet your ass I couldn’t, at least not in this current market. 

And that’s okay. I believe in progressing towards the cars you want and sought something that could scratch the itch of being an oddity from another era plus be a viable daily driver after dailying my modified Mustang for nearly five years. What better place to start than some quirky econobox of the same vintage? After some chit-chat with the owner and a brief bidding war on Cars & Bids, I staked my claim on a Be-1 in June this year.

If you’ve never heard of these, I don’t blame you. The first of Nissan’s Pike Factory lineup of modern-retro cars, it was immensely popular at release but was soon eclipsed by its more common (and way cuter) successor, the Nissan Pao. Mechanically identical to the Pao, the Be-1 was based on the Nissan Micra of the same era and sported the same MA10S electronically-carbureted four-pot pumping out, wait for it… 51 raw, steroidal horsepower, and 55 pound-feet of twist. All that thunder and lightning routes to the front wheels via a three-speed automatic, which I chose over hunting for a five-speed stick because I am lazy and also a colossal dingus.

It doesn’t drive so craptastically at all, actually. Driving right-hand drive is a brainless mental switch to perform, especially in an automatic econobox this tiny. The sardine can-esque canvas roof peels back with the flick of a switch, adding to the immensely airy feel of the retro-ish cabin. Power is ample for side street commuting up to 65 miles per hour, which this car will hit on its own damn time. Leave the V-Box at home, and leave for your appointments far in advance.

No power steering? No problem. It’s light and nimble enough that even slow-speed maneuvers are no issue, even with the catastrophic body roll that I’m told is normal. Brakes work, I suppose. And the last owner installed a Pioneer head unit, because of course he did, beneath the dash-mounted storage shelf, because of course my weird Japanese car has dash-mounted shelving.

Perhaps the best part is witnessing the excitement this car instills in car and non-car people alike. I didn’t think the Be-1 would be such a standout, even with its Pumpkin Yellow hue (pumpkins aren’t even yellow, come on, Nissan). Yet, people apparently love, love, love this thing to death. Pedestrians stop me in parking lots to ask what it is while drivers wave hello or flash a thumbs up. Bystanders took cracks at guessing the year with the car’s blended cosplay of Fiat and Mini fooling them into believing it’s much older. Even an introvert like myself could enjoy a good bit of this.

Admittedly, it’s a terrible hunk of junk in all objective measures spanning safety, performance, and features, and God forbid I dare fix the nonfunctioning A/C and reduce those 51 horses to 5.1 asthmatic ponies. Don’t even get me riled up on parts sourcing, either. I have an engine air filter coming from a specialist in Lithuania, of all places. Oh, and there’s also that minor yet steady oil leak that neither me, my mechanic guru dad, nor my JDM evangelist best friend could pinpoint yet, so that’ll be another source of anguish that’s fun for the whole family. 

A veteran of classic car ownership will find this bean to be no issue at all, but a first-timer such as myself is already discovering how the slightest imperfections can prove to be a pain in all of my asses. But that’s just part of playing this game, and I still feel like a winner.

This car is brilliant and lovable in all the right ways. It’s an easy-to-drive, easy-to-park fuel miser that seems to make everyone smile. I’m driving the car that would make Dominic Toretto cry, but I still feel like the bigger hero.

It’s not the purple-clad Godzilla that 6-year-old me clammored over since Gran Turismo 4 was sold new, but dreams all start somewhere. Mine just happens to start by letting the sun shine through the canvas roof on the way to Cars N’ Coffee, one mile per hour at a time.