Automotive Reviews
Christopher Jackson
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Posts by Christopher Jackson
2000 Mitsubishi Montero Sport
Jun 19th
One of the first things you notice upon entering the Mitsubishi Montero Sport is the grab handles–sometimes known as “uh-oh” bars, or by even more colorful names. There are seven of them all told, which seems a little excessive for a four-door, five-passenger vehicle. Is this truck planning to have you clutching at as many grips as you can find for dear life?
Don’t bet on it. In spite of all the grab handles and the other design elements that mark the Montero Sport as a dune-hopping, mud-slogging off-road beast, the smallest Mitsubishi SUV is as docile and domesticated as a golden retriever. It’s more at home in the suburbs than in the wild.
Introduced in late 1996, the Montero Sport gives the red, three-diamond Mitsubishi logo a spot in the lucrative mid-size sport utility market. The Montero Sport is based on the same chassis as the larger, more expensive Montero, whose rugged heritage dates back to the early days of the SUV class. The big Montero has since taken its desert-rally fueled reputation upmarket, to the luxury sport-ute class, and the Montero Sport steps in to fill the void. With its tank-on-wheels design and the respected Montero nameplate, the truck has been a big hit since its introduction. For easy reference, think of it as a Japanese Ford Explorer. A minor design reshuffling, new rear suspension, bigger brakes and a new optional limited-slip differential are the major changes to the Mitsubishi Montero Sport for 2000.
The Mitsubishi Montero Sport greets the world with an aggressive, “Mitsu-beastly” face. A big diamond-patterned grille with a six-inch high red Mitsubishi logo boldly declaring the truck’s heritage rides up front, between crystal headlamps and ringed with heavy chrome on our Limited test model. (Lesser Montero Sports have a black grille surround.) The Paris-Dakar desert rally look is a strong theme as well; visible cooling fans behind the grill, skid plates, a small round foglights make the Montero Sport appear ready to ford streams and leap over dunes. The Montero Sport’s overall look is that of a solid box with the corners sanded carefully off. It’d make an easy pinewood derby design. A deep crease runs up the side, accenting big wheel arch flares which stand out aggressively, especially on two-tone models. A proportionally low greenhouse and high sides are accented by an unusually long wheelbase to give the Montero Sport a sleek, 4×4-limousine-like profile. The 16″ wheels’ twisted-spoke pattern looks powerful. The side steps spoil the tough, blocky profile, but short passengers will need them to get in! From the rear, the Montero Sport’s aggressive stance is also strong. The planed-off look is continued with taillights that are flush with black trim running across the back of the truck. The whole unit blends into the lower edge of the back window. The spare tire’s visible hanging underneath. Although roof racks tend to add a touch of burliness to most sport utes, they don’t do justice to the Montero Sport’s slick design.
Inside, Mitsubishis tend to be a little bit cluttered with regards to controls placement, and the Montero Sport is not an exception to this rule. A clean, easy to read instrument panel greets the driver with white on black gauges, but not much else falls so quickly to hand. The steering wheel feels nice, but looks cheap, and it hides scattered dash buttons no matter how the tilt column is adjusted. The control work well; they’re just poorly placed. Worst of all are the switches for the optional heated seats, which are invisible and nearly inaccessible under the console armrest. By contrast, the overhead console is refreshingly simple. There’s no fussy sunglasses holder, garage door opener, or tissue box; just a digital clock and a pair of map lights. The Montero Sport’s design makes the windshield a little narrower than it could be, which makes the blind spot created by the rear view mirror noticeable (not as noticeable as in the aforementioned Explorer, however). Drivers will appreciate the tall side mirrors in a market full of SUVs with car-sized, blind-spot creating mirrors. Rear-seat passengers will appreciate the luxury-car-inspired cupholders in the Montero Sport’s rear armrest, and everyone will enjoy the impressive eight-speaker sound system. Behind the rear seat, the cargo area features a rollaway cover (which was required some wrestling to operate on our test vehicle) and convenient panels that lift out of the floor to reveal shallow plastic storage trays. They’re sized perfectly to keep small loads from tumbling, and sticky loads from fouling up the carpet. Visibility to the rear could be better, but that’s a common SUV complaint.
Once on the road, the comparison to a Ford Explorer comes to mind again. The Montero Sport handles much like an Explorer, in that it’s more suited for city life than the boonies, but it improves on its competitor by performing with a degree more composure. Thanks to a long wheelbase, the Montero Sport doesn’t pitch violently over road irregularities, as shorter SUVs do. The long-travel independent suspension and new three-link coil spring setup in the rear ensures that on the freeway, it’s not as prone to wandering as the Ford. The Montero Sport’s more composed over washboard and dirt surfaces as well. There’s much less steering bounceback from the tires. That said, it never feels completely stable. It’s got a wobbly, tippy feel on the road, which is of course common in sport-utes, but the Montero Sport is less sure-footed than most. For comparison, a Nissan Xterra is an inch or two wider-tracked, and is as steady as sport-utes come.
The four-speed automatic transmission shifts with a smoothness normally found in luxury sedans, but the Montero Sport feels a bit underpowered, even with a 3.5-liter, 200-hp V6 under the hood. Long freeway grades had us dropping the gear selector into second to keep from losing too much speed–and that was with no load and the AC off. Four-wheel-drive is selectable by a console-mounted lever, and unlike the Ford Explorer the Mitsubishe features a low-ratio “creeper” gear for inching down hills and crawling through extremely difficult terrain. Other concessions to hostile terrain are standard tow hooks and skid plates to protect the fuel tank and oil pan. One-piece side stampings for the body improve the Montero Sport’s durability, and the truck feels solid. Also assisting with traction is a limited-slip differential, which allows the power to go to the wheels with the most grip. It’s optional on the XLS model and standard on the Limited.
Yet, for all of its 4×4 trappings, the Montero Sport is happiest on pavement. The limited outward visibility makes for a vehicle that’s hard to place, even though the narrow track should make it more trail-friendly. The Montero Sport also needs more power if it’s going to climb boulders.
Back on the positive side, the Montero Sport has absolutely fantastic braking for a sport-ute; there’s very little pitch and no wandering or wiggling from the front or rear during even the hardest panic stops. ABS is standard.
Mitsubishi Montero Sports are available in four trim levels, starting with the two-wheel drive only ES. The next step up is the LS, then the XLS, and the Limited rests at the top of the heap. The Montero Sport Limited features a 3.5-liter V6 which is shared with the larger Montero, while the lower trim levels have a 3.0-liter V6. Our test vehicle was a Limited, and it was equipped with a keyless entry, sunroof, fog lamps, an “Infinity” sound system with cassette, and color-keyed side steps. The only option on our test vehicle was a leather interior with heated front seats. It was on par with a loaded Ford Explorer Limited, and close to the same price: our Montero Sport stickered at $33,047. Montero Sports start at $22,527 for an ES. Four-wheel-drives start at 26,807 for an LS.
The Mitsubishi Montero Sport is going to be happiest if it doesn’t see hard off-road duty–but unlike some of its competitors, it is in fact capable of making folks reach for one of those many grab handles.
Specifications:
All specs are for the 2000 Mitsubishi Montero Sport Limited, which we tested.
Length: 181.1 in.
Width: 69.9 in.
Height: 68.3 in.
Wheelbase: 107.3 in.
Curb weight: 4260 lb
Cargo space: 43.4 cu.ft. (seats up)
79.3 cu.ft.(seats folded)
Base price: $31,357
Price as tested: $33,047
Engine: 3.5 liter SOHC 24-valve V6
Drivetrain: four-speed automatic, four-wheel drive
Horsepower: 200 hp @ 5000 rpm
Torque: 228 lb/ft @ 3500 rpm
Fuel capacity: 19.5 gal.
Est. mileage: 15/18
6/2009 update: The Montero Sport never seemed to catch on. It was a decent truck, but missed the mark somewhere along the way. They’re uncommon today.
2001 Buick Park Avenue
Jun 19th
The timing couldn’t have been better; the Buick Park Avenue Ultra arrived just as we were heading out of town to visit relatives for the holidays. It was a healthy dose of traditional American driving for a traditional American holiday season.
With the demise of the Roadmaster, the Park Avenue is top dog in the Buick lineup these days. All of the current luxury car amenities are there; GM’s StabiliTrak traction control and OnStar driver assistance were made standard on the Park Avenue Ultra in 2000.
From prow to stern, the big sedan is hard to mistake for anything other than a Buick. A very clean front end is dominated by a thin-barred, slightly oval grille reminiscent of toothy Buicks of the past. The parking lights are moved to a discreet position at the extreme corners, which emphasizes the bumper line and gives the Park Avenue a classic, big-chrome-bumper look without the big chrome bumper. Projector-style headlights reside behind clear covers. A nicely sculpted hood is domed in the middle, and a sharp crease on each side is faintly reminiscent of 1950s Buicks. That crease carries through all the way to the rear of the car, which also retains the big-bumper look. We didn’t find our test car’s 16″ chrome wheels particularly attractive.
Inside, the Park Avenue is unpleasantly similar to the LeSabre. That’s not a completely bad thing; the junior Buick is a well-designed, comfortable car. It’s just that for the price hike, we’d like to see a more unique, upscale interior. The seats are wide and plush, with soft leather. They’re multi-adjustable, but we had a hard time finding a comfortable position. The dash is nicely marked and easy to read, but matches that found in the LeSabre. A large console between the front seats flips out to reveal a dual cupholder, swallows a big handful of compact discs, and also feels like it came out of a less expensive car. Back-seat passengers are treated to lighted vanity mirrors, just like in a Mercedes. Controls for the radio and memory seat functions can be confusing; even after reading the manual, every time we thought we had set the memory seat, we hadn’t. Other gripes included extremely slim door pockets, and thick A-pillars which blocked forward visibility slightly. On the plus side, the Park Avenue is blessed with an enormous trunk, in proper American style. It happily swallowed a full load of Christmas cargo, and a pass-through in the rear seat allows long items to be stowed as well.
The supercharged V6 provides welcome urgency to the driving experience. The Park Avenue has no trouble bullying its way through heavy traffic, even holiday traffic. 240 horsepower makes up for the Park Avenue’s almost-two-ton girth, and it will cruise at disconcertingly high speeds effortlessly. The four-speed transmission shifts smoothly and is geared for maximum freeway efficiency. The Park Avenue gets almost 30 mpg on the freeway; coupled with an 18.5 gallon gas tank it has a range of nearly 400 miles.
The steering is light, just like that of Buicks gone by. There’s a bit of classic American floatiness when piloting the Park Avenue at low speeds–just as nostalgic, in its own way, as watching that big hood swing around. It’s a good thing that steering is precise as well as light. The suspension is tightened for responsiveness, but it’s not particularly well-done, with a tendency to be floaty where it should be snug, and to be sharply resistant where a more refined car would be softer. It’s better than years gone by, but not up to the best modern luxury cars. The brakes are also up to par, but could be better. Four-wheel discs are standard, but they’ve got an awful lot of car to bring to a halt.
The equipment list is refreshingly long. The Park Avenue Ultra also features a special edition, with a unique Laguna Green color and a walnut wood interior. The aforementioned traction control is standard, as are cruise control, heated seats front and rear, and the OnStar system. A new option for 2001 is an ultrasonic obstacle-detecting system in the rear bumper. The Park Avenue Ultra starts at $37,490 and our test car with the Gran Touring package topped the ledger at $39,330. It splits the difference neatly between the mass-market Chevrolet Impala and the high-luxury Cadillac Deville in GM’s lineup, and is quite comfortable between those two. On the other hand, forty thousand dollars will also buy a personality-challenged but nicer-driving Acura 3.5RL, a Lincoln Town Car, or a number of other big, well-equipped freeway-eaters.
Big luxury cars are nearly all good. Deciding on one is a matter of taste more than anything else. The Park Avenue is a prettier car than an Acura 3.5RL, but the interior is a definite step down in elegance. A Lincoln LS is more fun to drive, but doesn’t have much storage space inside for those road trip necessaries like maps and cold drinks.
Specifications:
All specs are for the 2001 Buick Park Avenue Ultra, which we tested.
Length: 206.8 in.
Width: 74.7 in.
Height: 57.4 in.
Wheelbase: 113.8 in.
Curb weight: 3884 lb.
Cargo space: 19.1 cu. ft.
Base price: $37,490
Price as tested: $39,330
Engine: 3.8 liter OHV supercharged V6
Drivetrain: four-speed automatic, front wheel drive
Horsepower: 240 @ 5200
Torque: 280 @ 3600
Fuel capacity: 18.5 gal.
Est. mileage: 18/28
6/2009 update: The Park was just about the nicest vehicle in GM’s lineup back in the day, and it’s still a pretty nice expression of Buick-ness.
2000 Mercury Grand Marquis LS
Jun 19th
Back in 1987, my late great-aunt bought a Mercury Grand Marquis. That darling, feisty old lady decided it was time to replace her eight-year old Ford LTD Landau, walked into the Mercury dealer, picked out a black Grand Marquis, paid for it with a check, and kept that car until she passed away fourteen years later.
Were she still with us, chances are she’d walk into a Mercury dealer and repeat the process. That’s what the Grand Marquis is for. If you’re too young to remember the Reagan presidency, you’re probably thinking, “They still MAKE those things?” And it’s true, they do. Cars like Chevrolet’s Impala and Buick’s LeSabre hint at the glory days of the softly-sprung, highway-bred sedan, but the Grand Marquis is still living that particular slice of the American dream, complete with rear-wheel drive and a big V8 under that long hood. For 2001 the Grand Marquis soldiers on, having carried the same basic structure (with updates, naturally) since the early 1990s. Tweaks include the new Personal Safety System, which regulates the deployment of airbags in an accident, and optional adjustable pedals.
No cutting-edge design here; the biggest Mercury knows its audience, and plays directly to it. The chrome grille with its narrow vertical bars has been a Grand Marquis hallmark since the 1970s. All of the character lines emphasize the car’s length and width. Though it’s not that much bigger than a Chevy Impala (an inch or two here and there), it looks like it’s two sizes bigger, at least. The Grand Marquis’ long hood and long trunk contribute to its classic American sedan proportions. And yes, it still comes with whitewall tires, wrapped around intricately sculpted aluminum wheels. We wonder what’s going to become of the Grand Marquis as Mercury moves into the more edgy, art-deco architectural design featured on the Cougar and upcoming Mountaineer, because Ford’s “New Edge” design is clearly not spoken here.
The Grand Marquis bears an even stronger resemblance to its forebears on the inside. With bench seats up front and tons of legroom in the rear, it’s a good place for four people to spend a cross-country trip. The instrument panel is digital, and the big Mercury defies the modern “cockpit” interior trend with a horizontal wood strip which runs from one side of the car to the other. Interior storage space could be better; although the Grand Marquis is available with a six-disc CD changer, there’s no space to put six CD cases up front. Two smallish cubbies inside the armrests and a pair of narrow door pockets are about it. By contrast, the trunk is huge and deep. The floor isn’t flat, but it’s cavernous under that lid.
Driven a Grand Marquis of almost any vintage? You’ll be familiar with this drill: step on the gas, wait for the 4.6 liter V8 to respond with a muted growl, and that long hood rises slightly as the car squats on its suspension. It’s exciting, but most of the visceral drama is provided by the Grand Marquis’ shocks. It isn’t all that fast. 220 horsepower provides plenty of freeway power, once you get the car’s 3973 pounds rolling. The Grand Marquis is quiet, however. The engine is loafing along at low rpm for most freeway duties, thanks to long-legged 2.73:1 gearing.
Handling hasn’t changed a great deal since the early 1980s, either. Stacked up against all of its competition–Chevy Impala, Buick LeSabre, Chrysler Concorde, Toyota Avalon–the Grand Marquis has only a casual relationship with the road. That’s not a bad thing, since it’s exactly what most Grand Marquis buyers want. Soft springs absorb bumps as well as a balloon-tired sport-ute, and the car’s reflexes are somewhat…reserved. It can take a lot of steering wheel work to get that long nose pointed where you want it. A 40.3-foot turning circle gives urban Grand Marquis drivers plenty of three-point turn time to reflect upon of the glory days of the land yacht. The power steering is heavily boosted at low speeds, to provide that classic two-fingered steering experience. At higher speeds it tightens up nicely, though. One improvement over past years is a lack of floatiness in steering and suspension. Hard brake applications don’t threaten to scrape the front bumper on the ground like they did in years past.
By comparison to newer cars in its class, the Grand Marquis is lightly equipped. Don’t look for steering wheel radio controls or heated seats; they’re not available, and ABS and traction control are options. The Personal Safety System is standard. A Handling Package adds dual exhaust and a quicker final drive ratio, for a slight boost in power and acceleration. Prices start at $24,410 for an LS model. Our test vehicle was a Grand Marquis LS Limited edition, which featured a special leather and wood steering wheel, and gold-painted wheels to match its Harvest Gold paint job. Optioned-up with a six-disc trunk-mounted CD player, leather interior, power seats, and an integrated garage door opener, it stickered for $29,100, which isn’t too much more than my great-aunt paid for her Grand Marquis almost sixteen years ago.
Specifications:
All specs are for the 2000 Mercury Grand Marquis LS, which we tested.
Length: 211.9 inches
Width: 78.2 inches
Height: 56.8 inches
Wheelbase: 114.7 inches
Curb weight: 3973 lb
Cargo space: 20.6 cu. ft
Base price: $24,410
Price as tested: $29,100
Engine: 4.6 liter SOHC V8
Drivetrain: four-speed automatic, rear-wheel drive
Horsepower: . 220 @ 4750 rpm
Torque: 265 @ 4000 rpm
Fuel capacity: .19.0 gal.
Est. mileage: 18/25
6/2009 update: What’s there to add? The Grand Marquis is a constant, even though it’s out of production. They’re all pretty much the same, have been since 1995, and they last forever unless you do something stupid to them. The electrics are going to fail left and right, but the car itself will just soldier on.