Knoxville, Tennessee, isn’t the kind of place you expect to start a road trip with ghosts. But that’s exactly where Firestone dropped me: the Oliver Hotel, a historic brick building with more than a century of stories packed between its creaking floorboards. Supposedly haunted.
I can confirm–stuff kept falling off the shelves in my room all night–which meant I rolled out to the Civic the next morning bleary-eyed and already running on bad coffee instead of sleep. Not the kind of rest you want before pointing a loaner from the press fleet at the Tail of the Dragon, but hey, what’s a road trip without a little chaos at the start?
A brand-new, manual-transmission 2025 Honda Civic Si sat waiting out front, parked and shod with Firestone’s latest Firehawk Indy 500 summer performance tires. The plan: Leave Knoxville, snake down legendary ribbons of Tennessee tarmac like the Dragon and the Cherohala Skyway, stop for fried food in a town called Sweetwater (of course), and finish in Nashville just in time for the IndyCar race. Firestone’s pitch was simple: Drive hard, live harder, and let the tires prove themselves.
Meet the Car (and the Shoes)
If you’ve ever owned–or wanted to own–a Civic Si, you already know the drill. The 2025 model is Honda’s latest take on the attainable sport compact: six-speed manual only (praise be), turbocharged 1.5-liter four making 200 horses, and enough chassis polish to make you believe Honda engineers secretly moonlight as autocrossers.
It’s not a race car, but it’s the kind of car that dares you to keep pushing–like a buddy who keeps saying “one more beer” until suddenly it’s 3 a.m. and you’re still at the kart track.
Wrapped around the Civic’s 18-inch wheels were Firestone’s new Firehawk Indy 500s. If you’ve been around sport compacts, you’ve probably seen the name before. The outgoing version built a reputation as one of the best budget-friendly summer tires on the market: sticky, predictable and just aggressive enough for track days. Treadwear is still listed at 340.
[Tire test: Firestone Firehawk Indy 500]
Photograph courtesy Firestone
Firestone’s engineers told us the redesign sharpened that formula:
• New tread compound: Stickier rubber designed to grip harder in both dry and wet.
• Wider shoulder blocks: More rubber on the road when you lean on the outside edge mid-corner.
• Stiffer sidewalls: Quicker steering response and less squirm when the load builds.
• Improved water evacuation channels: To fight hydroplaning in summer storms.
Paper specs are fine, but I planned to test them the only way that matters, by throwing a press-loaned Si at some of the gnarliest roads in America and seeing if the tires begged for mercy.
The First 45 Minutes
There’s a certain energy when you pull out of a hotel parking lot on a press trip. You’re in a convoy of shiny, new cars, everyone jockeying for position, nobody wanting to look like the first to stall a manual transmission.
Knoxville traffic barely gave us time to breathe before the route veered toward 129 Hub, the iconic motorcycle-and-car outpost at the entrance to Tail of the Dragon. The Civic felt light on its feet, eager to play, the shifter slotting into gear with that metallic snick that’s pure Honda.
[Tail of the Dragon: 5 alternatives that rival the renowned road]
And then blue lights.
Photograph by James Wood
Forty-five minutes into the trip. Right after the Hub. I swear I wasn’t doing anything insane–just enjoying the flow of the road, third gear singing, tires buzzing happily across perfect Tennessee pavement.
But there he was: local law enforcement, and me with both hands sweating on the wheel.
Here’s the miracle: The cop was a car guy. The kind who spends his days patrolling the Dragon, pulling over squids on bikes and tourists who think double-yellow means “optional.”
He talked about how wild this road gets, how many people underestimate it, and how he’s basically seen it all out here. And then he handed me what has to be the biggest written warning in the history of speeding warnings: a full-size sheet of paper, like something you’d tack to a bulletin board. I folded it three times and still couldn’t get it into my pocket. Biggest warning, smallest mercy.
Honestly? After a night of poltergeist interruptions and zero real sleep, I probably looked guilty before I even touched the throttle. But thanks to that chill officer, I left with my record intact and a story too weird to make up.
Tail of the Dragon: 318 Curves, Zero Excuses
You’ve read about the Dragon. Maybe you’ve watched shaky GoPro footage of motorcycles scraping pegs. But nothing prepares you for the sensory overload: the canopy of trees closing in overhead, the constant rhythm of brake-throttle-shift, the smell of cooked pads hanging in the air like barbecue smoke.
Photograph courtesy Firestone
This is where the Civic and the Firehawks came alive. The Si’s steering–electric but surprisingly communicative–danced with the Indy 500s, every curve an invitation to lean a little harder.
Turn-in felt immediate, like the tires were already thinking about the next corner before I was. Mid-corner grip? Planted. The Firehawks offered that perfect blend of stick and slip–you could feel the edge, tease it, and back off without drama.
Photograph courtesy Firestone
Here’s where the new tech mattered: the stiffer sidewalls translated to less delay between steering input and tire response. On the old Indy 500s, you’d sometimes feel a hint of squirm when you really leaned on them.
Here, it was like flicking a switch–the car followed instantly. The wider shoulders meant more rubber dug in as cornering loads piled on, which gave me confidence to brake later and carry more speed. And even after a solid stretch of corners, heat buildup didn’t turn them greasy. Consistency is the name of the game, and these tires delivered it curve after curve.
The Dragon has a way of exposing weak links. Tires get greasy, brakes wilt, suspensions start begging for mercy. But lap after lap, the Firehawks just took the punishment.
Sweetwater, The Lazy Beagle, and the Skyway
After surviving the Dragon without a second blue-light intervention, our pack rolled into Sweetwater, Tennessee, a small town with antique shops, brick sidewalks and a restaurant called The Lazy Beagle. Picture wood-paneled walls, waitresses who call you “honey,” and sandwiches as wide as the steering wheel I’d just been gripping. Southern road trips demand fried food, and Sweetwater delivered.
Photograph by James Wood
From there, the Cherohala Skyway stretched out like a reward for surviving the Dragon. Where 129 is tight and twitchy, the Skyway is wide and sweeping–mountain vistas, long sightlines, curves that beg for fourth gear and a steady throttle.
This was the Civic’s happy place: turbo humming, chassis relaxed, Firehawks rolling easily without tramlining or getting noisy. Highway cruising can be where summer tires fall apart–drone, harshness, wandering–but the Indy 500s surprised me with their composure: comfortable, quiet enough, yet ready to bite the moment another corner appeared.
And here’s the kicker: In wet patches (because of course mountain weather can’t make up its mind), the Firehawks kept their cool. Those deeper circumferential grooves actually did their job, channeling water out instead of letting the car skate across it. Summer tires and rain don’t always get along, but these felt sorted.
Somewhere out there, in the silence between mountain peaks, I finally realized I wasn’t tired anymore. Lack of sleep, ghost paranoia, even the warning slip–they all faded. There’s something about a well-balanced car on the right set of tires that snaps you awake better than any cup of hotel coffee.
Rolling Into Nashville
By the time we hit Nashville, the cars were dusty, our group was bonded by miles and warnings, and I was convinced of two things: The Civic Si still represents one of the purest forms of driving joy you can buy for under 35 grand, and Firestone’s latest Firehawk Indy 500 is the real deal.
[Tire test: Firestone Firehawk Indy 500]
Photograph by James Wood
At the Music City Grand Prix in Nashville, surrounded by IndyCars screaming past grandstands, Firestone’s presence made sense. It’s not just a tire company, it’s part of American motorsport DNA. And yet here it is, building a tire that your average enthusiast can bolt onto a daily driver and feel like they’re part of that same lineage.
Final Thoughts (and That Warning)
The 2025 Civic Si isn’t about brute force. It’s about balance, feel and wringing joy out of every shift. Pair it with the Firehawk Indy 500, and you get a car that makes mountain passes feel like race tracks and race tracks feel within reach.
The tires aren’t just good “for the money.” They’re good period. Responsive, confidence-inspiring and durable enough to take a pounding across some of the hardest-driving roads in the country.
Photograph courtesy Firestone
As for me? I’ll always remember this trip, not just for the roads or the tires, but for that moment of flashing lights, a full-page warning slip, and a night in a haunted hotel where shelves rearranged themselves just to keep me awake. A ghost hotel, a haunted highway, and Firehawks that refused to fade–it all added up to one hell of a story.
And if the Oliver Hotel ghosts followed me back home, well, at least they’ll know I was rolling on good rubber.
