Road Tests: Long-Term Test

Though far from perfect, Chris Wardlaw has determined that the Odyssey is the best minivan on the market. Now that his wife owns a 2000 Toyota Sienna (his wife owns it, mind you, not him), "the contrast between competency (Honda) and compromise (Toyota) is crystal clear. I can only say that I wish we'd gone ahead and paid the premium commanded by the dealers for the Odyssey LX and left our Sienna LE on the Toyota dealer's lot."

Why the change of heart, you ask? Chris writes, "Well, for one, the Sienna's seats are heavier and harder to remove, there's no "magic seat," the front seats are uncomfortable (and don't move back far enough in the track), the second row's legroom suffers when the third-row seats are tumbled forward in an effort to duplicate the Honda's cavernous cargo hold, and the Toyota has a much wider turning circle.

"Where Toyota scores big points are in powertrain and quality areas. The smooth V6 is responsive and quiet, and the Sienna is more fleet of foot than the Odyssey. Also, the cabin is quieter at speed, and everything inside is constructed of fabrics, plastics and vinyls one cut above the quality offered in the Honda. Ergonomics, despite the low-mounted Sienna stereo, are a wash.

"The Odyssey handles and stops better, though only track testing could confirm this impression. Plus, the Honda gets better crash scores overall and is the nicer-looking van. In my opinion, the Odyssey could stand improvement, but it's nonetheless the current star of the minivan class."

The Odyssey spent the beginning of the month moving Wardlaw and the fam from Denver to Los Angeles. They left Denver during a blizzard, making it as far as Walsenburg "as wind and snow ravaged the Front Range of the Rockies." Before they decided it was unsafe to journey on, the Odyssey sped through the blanket of windblown precipitation without a whimper, even though it was loaded up to capacity with the family's belongings. The wipers worked well at keeping the windshield clear and resisted icing successfully, and the defroster easily kept the acres of glass condensation-free. However, the rear wiper was a bit troublesome; the stream of fluid that cleans dirty glass should be a spray, because it does a lousy job of coating the window with cleaner. And our wiper hops on the surface of the glass when returning to its stowed position, which means that the last stroke leaves a bunch of muck on the window. You should know that our ed-in-chief is not a fan of muck.

Post-blizzard, the Wardlaws prepared to soldier on and the car fired up instantly. Another nice touch is the automatic climate controls that, when set to "auto," won't blow air into the cabin until the engine is warm enough to produce warm air. This was appreciated "because most morons would crank the heat full blast even if nothing but cold air rushed out of the system." Wardlaw confesses that he is one of those morons. Chris was mighty comfy in the Odyssey this time 'round, even though previous trips had left him with a sore back from a lack of lumbar support. His only real criticism about the interior has to do with the lack of power adjustment for the passenger seat and a hard plastic glove box door that obstructs passenger legroom.

At a stopover in Santa Fe, the Wardlaws had the benefit of the Odyssey's seven-passenger seating capacity since they didn't need to leave the third-row bench in the garage to fit all of their stuff for the trip. Chris called the folding "magic seat," "one of the best minivan features available, and Honda's been quietly offering it since 1995."

Once back in Los Angeles, business sensation Grant Whitmore was given the wonderful opportunity to drive the Odyssey, provided he went to the dealer to pick it up from its 15,000-mile service. No big deal, thought Whitmore, as he caught a ride to Honda of Santa Monica.

First off, the cashier rang us up, handed over the invoices and ran Whitmore's credit card without asking who he was. Now, we all know Grant is a trustworthy, kind individual, but how did this cashier know that he wasn't some sort of shady car bandit? He certainly doesn't look like associate editor Liz Kim, whose name the vehicle was under.

After a momentary pause, Whitmore discovered just how much the "routine" service amounted to. We were charged $211.00 for parts, oil and lubricants, waste disposal, and labor. The itemized invoice revealed that this hefty cost was mostly due to the shop's hourly labor rate, which alone totaled $159.

Next, Whitmore noticed that an estimate for body repair work was not included in the paperwork. This was odd, since he remembered being told that Honda of Santa Monica was going to give us an estimate for the scrape on the rear quarter panel and the slice in the rear bumper cover. Whitmore then took a closer look at the invoice and saw, "Technician recommends take to M2 Collision Center for proper body repair estimate." This did not go over well with Whitmore: "Wow, what service! Seriously, when I have taken cars into dealerships for repair estimates before, they have always had a collision center pay them a visit, or have taken the car over themselves...For Honda of Santa Monica to know that this is something we wanted done, and to not do it, shows a lack of customer service that ticks me off."

And that wasn't the only thing that ticked him off. Our invoice said our bug guard had been removed, but it hadn't. (Recall last month that our Herculean editor-in-chief had shattered it with his bare hands when shutting the hood.) Whitmore went back inside, tracked down the service writer, and discovered that they just didn't know if we wanted it on or off, so they just left it on. "That makes sense," wrote Whitmore, "when in doubt doing nothing is always better than trying to fix the situation. How about a phone call to Liz? That might have cleared up the confusion. After I showed him the line on the invoice that said 'remove bug guard,' he agreed to have it done before I left."

And then the fun really started, with Whitmore watching three guys trying to remove this broken piece of plastic from the front of the hood, which apparently was secured with a combination of screw clamps and crazy glue. After 20 minutes of prying, the bug guard was gone, but there were patches of sticky, foamy stuff on either side of the hood. "Hector (service writer) looks up at me expectantly to see if this is acceptable, and I slowly shake my head left and right." Off went the Odyssey for a detail, and Whitmore took a load off in the waiting area.

While waiting, Whitmore noticed a series of peculiar meetings occurring "between one of the lot boys and a number of shady-looking characters who appear as though they've come straight from an episode of 'Cops.'" After a loud confrontation between a cab driver and the lot attendant about the cabbie's missing 'stuff,' (wonder what that may be) and much profanity, Grant began looking for possible places to run for cover if the bullets started to fly. "Fortunately," writes Grant, "their conflict-management skills were such that they were able to resolve their dispute without resorting to violence."

Fifteen nerve-wracking minutes later, the Odyssey was returned without gunk, and Whitmore could get back to work (after waiting for over an hour for a vehicle that should have been ready upon his arrival). By the way, when we took delivery of the Odyssey we asked Woodland Hills Honda if they would be so kind and remove the bug guard. They claimed it couldn't be done since the paint might get damaged from the adhesive used to affix the guard to the hood. Well, the deflector is gone, the paint looks fine, and we have one more gripe for Woodland Hills Honda.

Once the Odyssey was ready to hit the road again, managing editor Karl Brauer filled it up with a folding crib, stroller, several large bags of luggage and toys, and some very special Y2K supplies -- like water, food, and photo albums. Oh, and he also brought along wife Stacie and 18-month-old son, Kirk. They headed north, from Los Angeles to Templeton, Calif., to escape the New Year's craziness for some quiet time with relatives. Brauer was impressed with the van's "monstrous" cargo hold and found it hard to imagine that anyone would feel it was insufficient.

Transporting a baby, however, is not a simple task in the Odyssey. Basically, the second row seats (which would be the optimal row for the baby -- closest to mom and dad) are not well-suited for child seats, since one cannot put either seat truly in the center of the second-row area. "You can only put the right passenger seat slightly in from the right passenger side door. This makes me nervous about side collisions, despite the Odyssey's high safety ratings." Even when you do move the second-row seats together, you have to use the three-point, C-pillar mounted seatbelts to hold the baby seat in place. And using shoulder belts to secure baby seats is no picnic, since the "shoulder strap tries to pull the seat up and tip it over when tightening the straps." What's worse, however, is that once the seat is locked down, the straps coming off the C-pillar completely block access to the cargo/third seat area. So, that is why, in a nutshell, that the Brauers put Kirk in the third-row seating area. (Whew!)

When Stacie had to climb in back for her son, she found it easy, thanks to the drop-down center tray, while both Karl and Stacie agreed it's useless for holding drinks or anything else, due to lame cupholders and a shallow tray. When Stacie was back in the third row, in order for the Brauers to communicate they had to holler, even with the radio off. "Lots of 'What? WHAT?'" wrote Karl, who said this was due to the echo chamber created in the van when traveling over 70 mph, where road noise becomes amplified due to the van's open cabin and square shape. But, Karl said this was "good preparation for our future as an old married couple."

Other interior issues had to do with a lack of legroom for Brauer's left leg, especially when operating the cruise control. He found that the usual advantage to using cruise (being able to stretch and move your legs during long trips) wasn't found, since the front wheel wells on the Odyssey cut into the front passenger foot wells. Also, the positioning of the emergency brake pedal didn't help matters; Brauer said it could potentially smash his shin during stretching moves. We say, stop doing yoga while driving, Brauer.

He was also annoyed by the seatback angle, with doesn't get upright enough for him, so he's left with the option of tilting the entire seat forward, which reduces his legroom and makes him feel like he's going to be dumped on the floor, or tilting it back and feeling like he has less control over the van because of the "Barcalounger" seating position. "I have to harp on every Honda I drive with this problem, because almost every model they build suffers from it (The S2000 didn't have this issue, thankfully!)."

Interior gauges were found to be large and easy to read, but the fuel gauge didn't show a full tank after two fill-ups. Apparently, other Odyssey drivers have noticed this problem as well, and we'll get it checked out the next time it's serviced. Brauer also tested the limits of driving on "E." On the way back from Templeton the gauge indicated that it didn't have enough fuel for the whole ride home, but when it got to just over "E" it stopped moving for a long distance. By the time it started dropping again, the Brauers were almost home. "Stacie loves it when I drive on 'E,' by the way. Especially at night with Kirk in the car."

All told, piloting the Odyssey "is about as fun as a minivan can be," wrote Brauer, who says that acceleration, steering, braking and handling are all the best in its class. Whitmore, however, noted that our brakes are still making an odd noise, and seem to pull to the right when depressed quickly, and that third gear seems to offer little pulling power. He also thought it was strange that the brakes are 60 percent worn after only 15,000 miles.

Still, the Odyssey is a great buy -- you get massive cargo room, safety, versatility and people-carrying ability for $26,000 ($28,000 for a 2000 with nav system). But, of course, this is only theoretical -- the long waiting lists and dealer price gouging hang like dark clouds above the Odyssey, almost covering the silver lining. Almost.

Total Odometer Reading: 17,939
Best Fuel Economy: 26.7 mpg
Worst Fuel Economy: 16 mpg
Body Damage: $0
Maintenance Costs: $211.00
Problems: Inaccurate fuel gauge.