HONDA HAULER OFFERS UNPARALLELED UTILITY
Japanese automaker’s all-new Odyssey as sophisticated as any vehicle on road
A 2002 Honda Odyssey minivan transported my wife and two young sons for almost 10 years. For a young family, the van was ideal, ferrying everything from bicycles and lumber, to lots of little ones. It also carried so many dreams on an untold number of road trips, the longest through a tornado in a March-break drive from Ottawa to Florida and back.
While the Odyssey wasn’t perfect, suffering its share of problems now and then, the van lived up to its namesake: My boys grew up seeing lots of this world through the windows of that silver box.
The rear windows in that 2002 Odyssey didn’t open as they do in the 2018 Honda Odyssey Touring I just drove. Nor did that old van warn me when someone was in the blind spot, as the new one does. The old van had no backup camera, no heated seats, no collision intervention, no tire pressure monitor, no automated cruise control, lane-keep assist, automatic wipers or auto headlamps like the new model.
How did we ever survive? Such is the advancement of the Odyssey that it’s now light years ahead of the first-generation Odyssey of 1994, now much more than a family hauler with an unparalleled level of utility.
Today, the fifth-gen Odyssey is as sophisticated as any vehicle on the road, especially in the topline Touring model, complete with eyes to watch the outside as well as cameras within to watch the little people with CabinWatch (that works even in the dark) and a PA system to yell at them (CabinTalk), if they aren’t already preoccupied watching a movie from the 10.2inch overhead screen.
And it can still seat eight somewhat comfortably. Cargo space behind the third row remains usable, a deep well housing the third row seats when folded flat.
The new Odyssey looks good, too, its sheet metal creased in Lamborghini-esque angles, the front end properly angry with winged brows, the thirdrow window coming up short of the bodywork to limit visual heft. It still blurts hockey mom, but does so with a sexier flourish, highlighted by two-tone 19-inch wheels, LED headlamps and fogs, and crab-claw
LED tail lamps in the Touring, the top line of six trims.
And the Touring drives supremely well. The solidity of its predecessors is still present, but a 44 per cent more rigid body structure over the fourth-gen makes the new Odyssey feel much tighter and more sound, although some squeaks, rattles and noises marred the supple ride. Around town, the van can be almost as quiet as an electric vehicle; on the highway, a small amount of wind noise pours off the side mirrors and side glass.
Handling is excellent, the big cube taking to bends and corners far better than any minivan ever has. Electric steering is a tad light, with less-than-accurate tracking, but it’s nevertheless easy to wheel about.
Step on the throttle and there’s plenty of pleasing growl from the revised, 3.5-litre V6. And there’s plenty of acceleration at the lowand mid-ranges, as well. Now with 280 horsepower and 262 poundfeet of torque, the front-wheeldrive Odyssey will hit 98 km/h in 6.6 seconds, according to Car and Driver. That’s quick for something that isn’t a sports car. And it comes with paddle shifters!
It’s good to have this much power, especially when there are people and cargo aboard. The Odyssey never feels underpowered.
With a 10-speed automatic, the marriage of engine and transmission is the best the Odyssey has ever seen. Shifts don’t hunt or linger, they just snap, snap, snap through the gears. It’s an excellent powertrain, and returned a fuel economy average of 16 L/100 kilometres in a week of extreme cold with lots of idling.
Some fuel is preserved through the i-VTEC’s cylinder deactivation system, which was never noticed. Neither was auto-stop, which shuts down the engine at long stops to save fuel.
During our week, auto-stop never engaged because it was so cold the van needed power to keep the van warm.
The heat in the front seats was generous, and the heated steering wheel was, of course, divine. The rear seats don’t have heat, which is odd in a van that costs $52,150 before taxes.
Those middle-row seats are unique, in that either of the outer seats can slide into the middle port, as well as sliding fore and aft to make entry to the way, way back easier or to accept more cargo. Just don’t try to remove those middle seats, as they’re heavy and bulky.
At least the tailgate opens automatically or with the jiggle of a foot.
Transporting eight people over the holidays, no one complained about space, even the lanky teens in the third row, two of whom noted how cool the van looked inside.
Indeed, the interior is far out, with lots of configurable, easy-toclean centre storage, 15 cupholders, a wireless charging pad and pleasing ambient lighting to go with a well-designed array of buttons and switches. The transmission is also controlled by buttons, which are oddly shaped, especially reverse. While their engagement is simple, the PRND interface is just weird. And the driver’s seat needs more horizontal and vertical adjustment.
The main audio display that controls many of the van’s functions couldn’t have been easier, though, even if the seven-inch display lacks a secondary tuning knob to go with the volume knob. The screen also gets tarnished with unsightly fingerprints, but the interface for mapping, phone, audio, climate, vehicle settings and other functions is blessedly easy to operate.
“Easy” certainly is a central theme of the 2018 Odyssey. And when life gets difficult with the arrival of children, owning a van that simplifies things is almost as precious as the cargo it carries.