Silverado modernizes Chevy pickups
1999 Chevrolet Silverado LS
Likes: Road-sensing 4-wheel-drive makes sense, so does the pushbutton ability to change shiftpoints for varied loads.
Dislikes: In the face of stylish challenges from Ford and Dodge, Chevy chose to stay, as they say, middle-of-the-road.
Bottom line: Base price (LS) $25,895; as tested $30,367.
Pullout quote: Chevrolet boasts that this is a smart truck. And it is.
All-new Chevy keeps
pickup war sizzling
The Chevrolet Silverado pickup is certain to be among the top-selling vehicles in the U.S. for the coming model year for several reasons. One is that trucks continue to surge along a rising arc of unprecedented popularity among vehicle buyers; second is that the full-size pickup segment always has been divided quite equitably among brand loyalists Ford, Chevy and Dodge; and third, the new Silverado is the first thorough redesign in over three decades, and it is the best Chevy pickup ever built.
In the past decade, all the people who needed pickup trucks were suddenly joined by a new array of buyers who wanted pickup trucks, whether they needed them or not. Ford and Chevy full-size pickups evolved to the No. 1 and 2 spots in total U.S. sales, as the buyers who owned farms or ranches, or regularly hauled trailers or other stuff, was augmented by the trendy folks who believed pickup trucks provided them with a sense of individuality.
Chevy designers chose not to follow Dodge’s idea of a massive, overpowering appearance on the Ram, or Ford’s concept of a contemporary look of sleek aerodynamics. Instead, the Chevy maintains traditional styling with a squarish front, square cab in the middle, and, of course, the open box at the rear.
The new Silverado front end has a full-width horizontal chrome bar dividing the grille into what attractive mirror-image look above and below that bar. It doesn’t immediately convey that this is an all-new truck so much as that it might be a stylish cosmetic redesign. Under the skin, however, Chevy has made enough major alterations to keep its loyalists in line, particularly in the engine compartment, interior, and chassis.
The frame now is done in three segments, with a “hydroformed” front section made stronger than its predecessor for housing the engine in rigid security; a roll-formed midframe section made the strongest of the three areas because it carries the weight of the pickup box; and a stamped rear frame, which is strong enough but doesn’t need the same structural support of the other areas.
The Vortec 4800 and 5300 V8s both have been revised with a deep-skirted block for increased rigidity, and it develops more power than the larger engines they replace. GM stubbornly strives to prove that pushrod engines are not obsolete, but there is no question that their long hours of refinement have proven that the 40-year-old “small-block” V8 engine design can be modernized to be both powerful and effective.
The 5300 V8 in the factory test vehicle I drove had 270 horsepowe and 315 foot-pounds of torque. It was the Silverado LS, which is the middle, between the base model and the LT top-of-the-line pickup.
The LS came loaded with features, which pushed its base price of $25,895 up to a total sticker of $30,367. That includes the extended cab, with the bigger 5300 V8, a tow-mode 4-speed automatic, plus off-road suspension and skid plates, as well as air-conditioning, a stereo system with a CD player, cruise control and power locks and windows with keyless remote. It’s clear that the days when pickups were an inexpensive alternative to cars has long since disappeared, as truck prices soared up to and beyond mainstream and even specialty cars.
Chevy boasts that this is a smart truck. And it is. The Silverado has a tow-haul switch on the automatic shifter lever which allows you to reprogram the shift points in case you’re towing or hauling a heavy load. It also has push-button engagement for 4-wheel-drive, and the Autotrac transfer case sends most of the power to the rear wheels, but automatically transfers power to the front whenever rear-wheel slippage is detected. Four-wheel disc brakes also are standard.
The revised interior is claimed to be the biggest in the industry. The 6-way power seats offer good lower-back bolsters but I thought there wasn’t much lateral support. The center has a fold-down console that can be used as a third seat when folded up. Instrumentation is excellent with a complete gauge arrangement backed up by an 18-function computer message center to alert you of trouble or maintenance issues.
The inside and outside door handles struck me as examples that sometimes change in the name of change doesn’t work as well as it looked on the design table. They are angled at a pull-up slope that I happened to find unnatural. And the new Silverado has one of my unfavorite features: When you start moving, the doors automatically lock, so when you stop, you are locked in and have to grope to find the unlock switch on the door panel.
A huge trapdoor — larger than some glove compartment doors — drops out of the lower center of the dash to reveal two cupholders, and a smaller trapdoor opens upward to reveal the cigar lighter and electrical outlets.
It’s been interesting to watch the “door war” among the three most popular pickups. Ford and Chevy raced to see which could come out first with rear-hinged third doors on the passenger side of extended-cab models. Near as I can tell, one brought it to market first while the other claimed to have designed it first. Whatever, both left the door open (so to speak) for Dodge, which came out last year with rear-hinged doors on both sides. Ford followed suit as a 1998 upgrade with four doors.
So it is curious that while the expanded rear seat in the Silverado is better appointed and more comfortable than its predecessor, Chevy still only has the third door on the passenger side. You don’t realize how much you miss the extra door on the driver’s side until you’ve driven a truck with that feature. We can only assume that the Chevy people are scrambling to add a fourth door to the extended cab, but in the meantime, there is plenty about the new Silverado to keep all the Chevy loyalists in line at the dealerships.
Miata, ‘Vette offer sports car variation
’99 Miata retains retro sports car charm
You could say the Mazda Miata is a “good ol’ car,” and you’d be right from every angle, because it’s always been good, and it started a trend of trying to make new and modern cars styled to capture the old days. The retro trend has turned out the Mercedes SLK, the BMW Z3, the Porsche Boxster, and the Plymouth Prowler, among others.
In the old days of sports cars, there were MGBs, Austin Healeys, Triumphs and Sunbeams — and that was from England alone. They were troublesome, eccentric little roadsters that required almost constant mechanical tending and may dribble a little oil on the driveway every night, but owners didn’t care. They were so flat-out fun that the problems were easily overlooked. On top of that, they had small engines that were plenty potent to make light little roadsters jump, but you could have your fun without going 100 miles per hour.
Sports cars changed a lot. Power became the watchword, prices rose to the sky, and Corvettes, Porsches, Mitsubishis, Toyota Supras, Nissan 300 ZXs and Mazda RX-7s took over. The MGs, Triumphs and their ilk disappeared, although so have the Supra, 300ZX and RX-7, leaving the Corvette much less competition. The all-new Corvette of 1998 has made a moderate and interesting update for 1999, which we’ll get to a bit later.
Although those British sports cars disappeared, the low-budget fun they inspired remained in the consciousness at Mazda, and nine years ago Mazda sprung the Miata on an unsuspecting world. The car was an instant success. Everybody who drove Miatas loved them. They were inexpensive, at just under $20,000, and they supplied all the fun of the good ol’ British roadsters, but they had one major difference: Everything worked in the ultra modern drivetrain — lots of power, quick-rising revs, great sound and all, but there were no oil leaks or breakdowns.
After selling 450,000 Miatas over nine years, with half of those in the U.S., it was time for Mazda to redo the Miata. The job was completed as a 1999 model, although Mazda brought it out several months ago.
I got a chance to test-drive a Miata just a couple of weeks ago, which was just a tad past the convertible/roadster driving season Up North, but I didn’t hesitate. The first Miata was a pure joy to drive, and the new one is better from every standpoint. Even the price remains under control, with a base of $19,770 and an as-tested sticker of $22,300. You can spend more and get several different option package upgrades, but the test car did everything you’d want a retro-roadster to do.
Improved all over
While it is still a little 2-seater, the new Miata seems a bit longer, although it isn’t. Moving the two seats forward a bit translates to 42 percent more trunk room than the earlier car, the better to haul a golf bag. A larger front grille is flanked by glassed-over headlights instead of the old flip-up trapdoor style, which looked fine when the lights were off but the trapdoors blocked out a sizeable amount of visibility when they were up to let the lights shine.
A lower roll center of gravity, coupled with improved bending and torsional rigidity in the frame, plus a race-bred double-wishbone suspension, makes the new Miata feel tighter and better-handling than its good-handling predecessor.
Inside, the seats are firm and supportive, and the instruments and switchgear retain that look of being as neat as the old roadsters, only better. The needles point with precision, the tachometer red line is ‘way up there at 7,000 RPMs, and the tight, slick 5-speed shifter allows you to respond as the Miata practically begs you to run it through its paces.
When you drive the Miata hard — and I can’t imagine not pushing it — it responds by delivering excellent gas mileage. The EPA listing calls for 25 city, 29 highway, and I got 28 miles per gallon combined, testing the red line regularly.
Technically, the Miata’s 1.8-liter 4-cylinder engine, with dual overhead camshafts and four valves per cylinder, has been bumped up to 140 horsepower at 6,500 revs, with a 119-foot-pound torque peak at 5,500. At a mere 2,299 pounds, the Miata’s response is snappy.
It has four-wheel disc brakes, with an advanced antilock system, and it has dual airbags. It also has a dashboard switch that allows you to deactivate the passenger-side airbag to avoid the recently reported hazards of short folks or kids being at risk when airbags deploy.
The new Miata carries on the tradition of a tuneful exhaust note. On the original, Mazda engineers did some computer tuning to adjust the exhaust sound to perfection. While the brakes are extremely good, the Miata handles so well you’ll find yourself coming into an intersection — signalling first, of course — and simply making a 90-degree turn without touching the brakes.
All of that makes for enjoyable driving, even on a cool, fall day, when you have to put on a heavy sweatshirt and a windbreaker to drive with the top down. Putting the top down, meanwhile, takes about five seconds, even though it’s totally manual. Flip two release switches above the windshield, and lift and push back, and the top goes right down. Once you spot a renegade rain-shower, or the first snowflake, simply reach back to the handgrip, lift, pull and refasten, and you can raise and clip the top in place just as quickly. Who needs power?
If the first Miata satisfied nostalgia buffs who recalled MGBs, Triumphs and Austin-Healeys, this one might also ensnare zealots who loved the old Alfa Romeo roadsters.
Corvette for ’99
We had the chance to examine an all-new-for-’98 Corvette last summer, and naturally Chevrolet isn’t altering the new winner for 1999, but a third style is now available. First came the coupe, then in midyear came the convertible. For the new model year, the same Corvette gets fitted with what is called the “fixed roof” hardtop.
The roof is lighter and closes down in a faster arc at the rear, allowing for a trunklid instead of a hatchback. It may lack the graceful sweep of the standard coupe, or the exotic look of the convertible, but the fixed-roof hardtop has a couple of significant advantages over its fellow-‘Vettes.
First, it is the least expensive of the three, dropping several hundred dollars to reach a sticker of about $38,500. It doesn’t have a sunroof, the test car didn’t have keyless entry or foglights, and it comes only with the manual 6-speed, which is how the car should be bought anyway.
The purpose is to keep the fixed-roof hardtop the lightest of the three Corvettes, and also the least expensive. So the heavier sports seats aren’t included, although the base seats are OK.
What all of that means is that the lighter version also is the swiftest. It’s hard to tell, actually, because all the new Corvettes have the 345-horsepower V8, a 5.7-liter pushrod powerplant built all of aluminum. With all that power, being 100 pounds lighter may make it slightly quicker, but how can you tell? The car has so much power that at 70 miles per hour, you’re turning only 3,100 in fourth , 2,200 in fifth, or a barely-idling 1,500 revs in sixth gear.
The thing that intrigues me the most about the new fixed-roof hardtop is the concept. Instead of loading on new glitz and gimmicks and jacking the price, it is refreshing to see Chevy make the newest, lightest and swiftest model also the least expensive.
True, it’s twice as spendy as the Miata, but it’s aimed at an entirely different market, where power is primary. I got over 300 miles off a tankful of combined city-freeway driving, but part of that was a subtle trick. A big gas tank meant I could pour enough gas in to equate to 19.6 miles per gallon.
Cars like the Corvette and Miata spearhead the rejuvenated sports car segment of the market. The Miata proves that you don’t need to spend twice as much to get a fun and efficient sports car; the Corvette proves that if you can afford to spend that much money, you can find the best Corvette ever built.
[boxes to go with these cars:]
1999 Mazda Miata
Likes: New look, exposed headlights, tighter body, a tad more power, no decrease in “fun” factor.
Dislikes: If oil leaks are part of sports car tradition, the Miata lacks them.
Bottom line: Base price $19,770; as tested $22,300.
1999 Chevrolet Corvette
Likes: More blunt roofline grows on you; lighter, quicker, fewer features makes it more powerful.
Dislikes: GM technology still can’t get the six-speed shifter to engage second at certain speeds.
Bottom line: Base price: $37,500 (estimated); as tested $38,500 (estimated).
Cougar reborn in Mercury lair
1999 Mercury Cougar
Likes: Bold, futuristic styling conceals surpisingly spacious interior, including rear seat and hatchback storage. A front-wheel-drive sporty coupe that a family can live in.
Dislikes: Bucket seats could use better lower-back bolstering; suspension could be finer-tuned for sportier handling; hard-core racers might find the power no better than adequate.
Bottom line: Base price $18,495; as tested $20,265.
Cougar reborn as all-new cat for 1999
Everybody remembers the Mercury Cougar. Well, forget it. For 1999, the Cougar will be drawing folks interested in sporty coupes to Lincoln-Mercury showrooms in numbers Ford is gambling will be unprecedented.
It’s a gamble, because the U.S. car-buying public is nowhere near as predictable as the European or Japanese markets, where logical size, reasonable economy and enduring style command the decisions to buy sedans or coupes. In the U.S., where a lot of folks always have seemed stuck on “bigger is better,” the current rage is enormous sports-utility vehicles and large, powerful sedans that get poor economy and are considerably larger than most buyers really need.
In that scope, sporty coupes have faded in recent years. General Motors is so concerned about lagging sales of the Camaro and Firebird that those two long-term coupes may cease to exist. Chrysler Corporation dropped the Dodge Stealth (a rebadged Mitsubishi 3000GT), and the Plymouth Laser and then the Eagle Talon (both rebadged Mitsubishi Eclipses). And Ford eliminated the Probe, and the Ford Thunderbird, and the Mercury Cougar.
That’s right, the Cougar ceased to exist. Long live the Cougar.
The new and rejuvenated ’99 Cougar is part of what Ford is calling its “new edge” design. It is an entirely new look for Ford, and it is worldwide in scope, with futuristic touches here and there, but utilitarian features underneath the boldly redone outer skin.
One look at the new Cougar and you realize this is unlike anything you’ve ever seen from Ford, with the possible exception of photos of the Puma concept coupes. It has a serious scowl to the front grille, with the familiar little Cougar logo in the middle. Also, neat little projector-beam headlights, with blistered plexiglass covering, give the car an advanced sporty appearance.
From the side, the lines are sleek and imaginatively contoured, with two bends running from front to rear, widening as they veer apart at the rear, and accenting the swept-back appearance that is further enhanced by the antenna, which juts back at a jaunty angle, centered on the leading edge of the roof.
The rear is daringly angular, with wraparound taillights that also have blistered lens covers, and a built-in spoiler rear face rising to meet the steeply angled hatchback glass.
In size, concept and approximate shape, the new Cougar most resembles the Probe, which was an impressive and consistently good sporty coupe for years until Ford and its Mazda affiliate quit making it a year ago. But the family ties include the fact that the new Cougar is built in the same plant that built the Probe.
Under those Contours…
The car that the new Cougar most relates to is the Contour sedan. Lift those neatly styled contours of the Cougar’s body, and that sleek 2-door coupe would reveal the chassis, suspension, engine and transmission of the Contour. That’s a no-brainer for Ford, because the Contour has gained wide acceptance worldwide, so it gives the Cougar solid footing.
The sporty potential of the Cougar also has a worldly reality to it. The car is not a neck-snapping dragster, nor is it a slalom-running sports car. It is a competent, attractive, futuristic coupe with both front-wheel drive and room for actual occupants in the rear seat — quite unlike the Mustang, Camaro, Firebird or Eclipse — and it is reasonably priced at just under $20,000, and it is built to be both durable and economically efficient.
I had no trouble getting 25 miles per gallon with a factory test car, which was a rich, dark blue Cougar with the optional V6 engine and a 5-speed manual transmission.
The problem could be with those hot-rod hearted zealots who expect this sporty-looking car to blow away Cobras and Z-28s. It won’t do that. The base 4-cylinder has 125 horsepower and 130 foot-pounds of torque, which is fully adequate for taking the Cougar on its daily real-world chores.
The optional V6 has an impressive 170 horsepower and 165 foot-pounds of torque, but remember that this is only a 2.5-liter V6. U.S. manufacturers are making V6 engines up to 3.8 liters, and the 2.5-liter Ford Duratec engine challenges the sheer displacement size of larger engines with technology. It has dual overhead camshafts with four valves per cylinder, so it runs strong and true up through the revs, and if its outright power is merely adequate, its flexibility, efficiency and economy are rich compensation.
The platform gets stiffer suspension, a thicker stabilizer bar and a wider track, making the lower and lighter Cougar (3,060 pounds) potentially more stable than the Contour sedan. While it handles well and feels good, I think it will be refined into a much better-feeling sporty coupe in the future. I wish Ford had gone to the Special Vehicle Team guys who transformed the Contour to a limited-edition SVT Contour, but maybe something like that will be coming.
Inside, the layout is neat with impressive gauges and ergonomically efficient switchgear. The 5-speed feels OK, if not Porsche precise, and the curvy-lined door design integrates the handgrip and window switches. Rotating raised-rib switches operate the air/heat system, and dash vents are old-style round outlets that can be easily aimed where you want.
Now if only we could convince Ford to go ergonomic on its radios. This had a great audio system, complete with compact disc player in the dash, but Ford insists on a tiny, horizontal volume control that looks and feels a lot like the dozen other buttons. I’m all in favor of every audio system having a big, round knob for volume, so you can turn it up, down or off without groping, looking, and then groping some more.
The bucket seats are impressive looking, but I think Ford could improve them. The seats have a comfortable-looking curve to the backreasts, which looks inviting. But once you’ve been in that seat for awhile, your lower back might wish it was convex where it’s concave. Added bolstering could help immeasurably. There may have been some compromises for style over substance in the Cougar, but the seats are an unusual place for Ford to make that tradeoff. Particularly since Ford has various other cars with exceptional seats, starting with the SVT Contour or Mustang Cobra. They’d probably bolt right in.
All-new concept
In the 1960s, when Ford had pulled off the master-stroke of creating the Mustang, and with it a whole new automotive segment called “pony cars,” it was quite natural that Mercury wanted a Mustang of its own. That’s how the Cougar was born. In those first days, the Cougar was a Mustang with different sheet metal, closed headlights and all, but with the same sporty attitude. There was even a Cougar Eliminator version for high-performance zealots, which rivaled the Mustang Boss 302. I remember it well because in the early days of my automotive columnist life, I drove one at high speed around Ford’s private test track.
From there, the parent company seemed caught up in whether to split away Mercury models from Ford or make them similar, if not identical. The Cougar was caught in the middle, changing personalities as if to typify cats and their nine lives. It finally branched away from the Mustang and latched onto the Thunderbird’s platform, even though that car itself had evolved from a 2-seat sports car to a lunker 2-door, 4-seat coupe.
The Cougar had seemed to solidify in its niche as a luxury coupe, a large 2-door with a spacious back seat and what is called a “formal” roofline. In the automotive design world a roofline is either sleek or squarish and not sleek. In the automotive buzzword biz, you can’t call a roofline “squarish” and hope to sell any, so the formal designation is used instead.
The Cougar was quietly terminated a year ago, and there was no particular outcry of disappointment from the masses, who were generally elbowing each other out of the way to buy sports-utility vehicles. Ford also terminated the Thunderbird, and the Ford Probe, which was a sleek little sporty coupe built jointly by the Mazda folks at Flat Rock, Mich., and which had nothing whatsoever to do with the hefty T-Bird and Cougar.
Meanwhile, Ford has a major hit on its hands with the 4-door sedan called the Contour (or Mercury Mystique) in the U.S., and called the Mondeo in Europe and other parts of the world. It is a compact sedan smaller than the Taurus and larger than the Escort, and its properly compact size fits most families’ sedan requirements. Ford also builds a strong little 4-cylinder engine called the Zetec and an impressive V6 called the Duratec for the Contour. Both engines are high-tech, dual-overhead camshaft and multiple-valve configuration, and they are so impressive that they are shipped from the U.S. to Germany to be installed in the Mondeo for high-speed hauls down the autobahns.
Out of all this, Ford made its next move a bold one. The Cougar name has been resurrected for ’99 as this unique and sporty 2-door coupe.
It combines the old Cougar’s distinctive logo, outlining a cat’s-head, with the Contour’s chassis, platform and drivetrains, and this stunning new body, and the whole thing is put together by the craftsmen at Flat Rock, Mich., where the Probe had been built and the Mazda 626 still is.
A little bit extinct Cougar, quite a bit Contour under the skin, a little bit Probe in size and concept, but the overall package of the 1999 Cougar is stylish and unique.
Galant challenges Accord, Camry
’99 Galant could
lure buyers from
Accord and Camry
If Mitsubishi’s car sales came close to equalizing that company’s technical innovations over the years, it would be among the leading manufacturers in U.S. sales. That hasn’t happened in the past couple of decades, although the 1999 Galant is a formidible attempt by Mitsubishi to challenge the sales supremacy of such industry standards as the Honda Accord and Toyota Camry, which annually battle the Ford Taurus for the No. 1 spot in U.S. car sales.
Mitsubishi has made numerous cars and engines in connection with Chrysler Corporation, and some of them, most notably the 3000GT and Eclipse sports cars, the coupe version of the Mirage economy car, and the Diamante luxury sedan all have been sylish and classy. The Galant, meanwhile, has struggled for identity, even though its bland exterior has concealed a truly enjoyable driving sedan with such features as high-revving multiple-valve engines before they were common, and even all-wheel-drive options for added performance and functional superiority.
Meanwhile, Accord and Camry ran away with the sales lead with popular vehicles that were foolproof selections and the only criticism anyone could have about the Accord and Camry is that they might lack personality, blending into the pool of similarity of a number of midsize sedans.
All that might make the timing perfect for the totally redesigned Galant to roll onto the scene, with some styling adjustments to resemble a sporty version of the Diamante, with an angular front end sloped back from a low, horizontal grille, and a BMW-ish angle to the rear pillar as it works back to the distinctive tail treatment.
The choice of a strong, 2.4-liter 4-cylinder engine or the 3.0 V6 gives the Galant, which is assembled at Normal, Ill., a wide-ranging variety of vehicles from the basic DE at about $16,500, to the ES at about $17,500, and on to the loaded LS luxury version at about $26,000. The factory test vehicle I got to try out was the GTZ, which is a special, limited edition high-performance model.
The base car comes with air-conditioning, power windows and locks, a cassette stereo, an air-filtration system, and the big 4-cylinder engine, which can be purchased with either a 5-speed or automatic transmission. The ES adds keyless entry and foglights. Moving up to the LS means you get leather interior and the premium sound system and some plastic wood stuff for trim.
The GTZ test car lists for a base price of $24,350, but if that’s too much, at least the Galant has those less-costly alternatives. The higher GTZ price reflects its standard equipment, which would otherwise be optional, such as a 4-speed automatic transmission, power glass sunroof, foglights, front and rear stabilizer bars, 4-wheel disc brakes, plus flashy instrumentation that includes silvery gauge faces that turn dark when the lighted numbers and needles are turned on.
Other standard GTZ items are leather interior, an upgraded audio system with AM-FM-cassette in the dash and a 10-CD changer in the trunk, a firmer sports suspension, oversized (16-inch) alloy wheels and low-profile, road-hugging tires, plus a big spoiler arching above the trunk lid.
I am not a big believer that a car needs a V6 to be competitive. The Accord’s VTEC (variable valve-timing) 4-cylinder is strng enough to handle all sedan duties, but Honda came out with the V6 anyway, to compete with Toyota, Taurus, Lumina and other mid-size cars with V6s, even though some of those don’t have a 4-cylinder that can approach Honda’s.
The point is, if you dust off the neighbor kid’s hot rod with your Camaro, you don’t need to jump out, open the hood and count the cylinders to be satisfied. You know if your car is fast enough for you. But, since the Camry and Accord have gone to V6 engines, it was inevitable Mitsubishi would do the same.
Mitsubishi’s 2.4-liter 4-cylinder is more than adequate for almost any power requirement, but the 3.0-liter V6 has 24 valves, revs to 6,200 RPMs with ease and churns out 195 horsepower and 205 foot-pounds of torque, which is exactly 50 more in both categories than the very good 4-cylinder, and assures that the Galant will compete with a lot of larger-displacement competing V6 sedans.
Prospective buyers would be wise to test-drive both the 4-cylinder, which can be bought with either a 5-speed or an automatic, and the V6, which can only be obtained with the automatic. The 5-speed is sportier, but the automatic is a sophisticated, 4-speed, electronically controlled unit that handles the V6’s power with smooth efficiency. Along with plenty of zip for any driving situation, the Galant GTZ delivered a solid 26 miles per gallon.
The challenge with a front-wheel-drive sedan with sporty aspirations is to make it handle and steer like a true high-performance machine. The GTZ’s steering is too light for my taste; I got used to it the more I drove, but I still think a little more steering input would improve the feel.
Building the Galant slightly larger in every dimension may have allowed stylists to work their magic, and they executed the plan well by making it significantly stiffer, and the attractively angled front end also has the aerodynamic benefit of a very good 0.29 coefficient of drag.
The test GTZ, painted a dark, Cayenne red pearl, benefited by its stiffer suspension and proved agile in traffic conditions, and had good directional stability, particularly after I became more comfortable with the twitchy steering.
The seats are very supportive and comfortable on trips, and the driving controls are ergonomically sound. I like the round heat/air knobs, which can easily be rotated for more or less temperature or fan power without taking more than a glance away from the road.
While the Galant — and especially the GTZ version — is enjoyable to drive alone in sporty fashion, or with four other people sharing the interior on a trip, its new and unique styling might be the pivotal feature for getting customers into it in the first place.
1999 Mitsubishi Galant GTZ
Likes: New styling and chassis catch up to always-impressive Mitsubishi technology; expanded size provides lots of room in seats and trunk.
Dislikes: Steering is too light and twitchy for the car’s performance-aimed segment; I’d like to see a 5-speed with the V6.
Bottom line: Base price (GTZ) $24,350; as tested $25,492.
’99 Saab 9.5 renews tradition
Old assets remain in all-new ’99 Saab
[On the Road UpNorth, by John Gilbert]
Say the word “Saab” to a car enthusiast and the word-associations are: safe, durable and quirky. Stubbornly quirky. It’s a Scandinavian fact.
For decades the Saab 900 has been an impressive Swedish front-wheel-drive car that thrived in northern climates — regardless of the continent. It also drew scornful criticism from the uninitiated, who used to laugh at the ignition key placement on the floor between the bucket seats, among other unusual features that only Saab-cultists seemed to appreciate.
Never mind that Saab also makes Swedish jet aircraft, applying the same technical and ergonomic concepts of jet fighters to the 900. When equipped with the right tires, the Saab 900 might have been the best, most sure-footed winter driving car in the world. Saab 900 cultists who used to enjoy the challenge of knifing through a blizzard every week or so probably laugh at the current sports-utility craze.
A few years ago, Saab ventured out after the mainstream by building an upscale luxury sedan called the 9000 as the companion to the 900, although its differences were far greater than that single digit might indicate. The 9000 had a cavernous interior where the 900 was just comfortably big enough; the 9000 had a more generic soap-carving appearance where the 900 was unusually angular; and the 9000 had all kinds of push-button gadgets where the 900 had always been simple and logical in its switchgear; and the 9000 cost over $10,000 more even while the 900 was creeping up toward $30,000.
One other significant difference: Saab 900 purists hated the 9000. So Saab sold 9000s to captive buyers of other import sedans, but rarely to a Saab lover, who might go for Acuras, Lexuses (Lexi?), or Audis if they decided to move upscale. Flash forward to 1999. That may seem hard to do in real life, but it’s a snap in the auto-biz, where cars seem to tumble out of factories at random times, and can be designated for whatever year the manufacturer chooses. Saab chose 1998 to turn out all-new sedans to replace the 900 and 9000, and it is designating them as 1999 models.
The names “900” and “9000” have gone the way of the Sonnett, with the 900 replaced by something called the 9.3, and the 9000 replaced by the 9.5. In this era of inflation, it’s refreshing to see something numbered smaller than before, but the 9.5 certainly doesn’t reflect being discounted by 8,990.5.
I recently test-drove a 1999 Saab 9.5 sedan, in dark blue so rich that was almost black. The first impression is that the car will be thoroughly applauded by Saab purists everywhere because the spirit of the 900 is alive and well in the 9.5. The front end looks, the silhouette’s curvature, and the interior all are bending more to the strongest assets of the old 900.
The new 9.5 is longer than both the old 900 and 9000, as well as a bit wider, higher and heavier, and it also has a more streamlined approach to the wind, with a 0.29 coefficient of drag. The firmly supportive seats also are remindful of the 900, which never lacked for comfort.
Road manners flawless
As good as the new 9.5 feels in everyday driving, it rises up a notch when you push it. There are some great stretches of twisty roadway lined with enormous old fir trees on a drive up Hwy. 2 from Two Harbors, heading for Ely. The harder you push the 9.5 and the twistier the two-lane, its impeccable road manners impress you even more.
Saab cab explain such handling characteristics in all sorts of emergency-handling safety terminology, but the bottom line is that driving enthusiasts will love this car, because it handles better and better as it nears high-performance limits. Such safety touches as 4-wheel disc brakes and crashworthy crumple zones are so commonplace in Saabs that they might escape note, even though many other manufacturers are a world behind perfecting such technology.
The test car from Saab’s factory fleet came equipped with the basic 2.3-liter 4-cylinder, which proves it can handle the load of a 3,450-pound car, even with an automatic transmission, because of Saab’s long-term development with turbocharging. The exhaust-driven compressor from the turbo sends a forced-intake fuel-air mixture that makes the strong and proven engine act more like a larger V6 than a 4-cylinder. It has 170 horsepower at 5,500 RPMs, and its full dosage of 207 foot-pounds of torque peaks at only 1,800 RPMs — barely above idle.
I’d like to try the 9.5 with a 5-speed, but I’m willing to wait for the new 9.3. Besides, Duluth hills make an automatic far less objectionable, and the performance of the car hardly suffered, once underway. A switch on top of the floor shifter says “S,” which stands for sport, and means that the 9.5 will hold its shift points to higher revs for sportier driving. Switch it again, and you’re back to more economical operation. Another switch on the console says “W,” which stands for winter, something they have in Scandinavia as much as in Minnesota, and it allows the car to creep away with more slippery-condition gearing to reduce wheelspin.
With the automatic, I got 25 miles per gallon on combined city-freeway driving, although it dipped closer to 21.5 when I spent a couple of hours in “S” mode, hurling the 9.5 around those delectable Hwy. 2 curves.
The other good news about the new 9.5 is that it has plunged in price compared to the outgoing 9000. For the 1998 model year, Saab only made luxury 9000 models, costing over $40,000. That may have put the Saab up in the luxury class with Swedish competitor Volvo and the German marquees, but it seemed decidedly un-Saab-like. The new 9.5 drops to a base price of $29,995, which, translated from Swedish, means “under $30,000.” Once you arm it with the automatic, the glass sunroof and ventilated leather seats, you’ve boosted it to $36,000. Still, the 9000 started at over $39,000.
Logic vs. gadgets
The ergonomic Saab feel includes that weird key on the floor trick. Critics aside, Saab realized about 30 years ago that in an accident a driver or passenger might tear up a knee on a key protruding from the dashboard, so the ignition slot was put down on the floor, between the seats. Strange as that seems, it works. I owned a 1980 Saab 900 for a decade, and one of its quirks was that the interior lights got fouled up, and rather than spend an exorbitant amount to fix them, we got along without. The first few times I jumped in the driver’s seat in the dark after that, I was astonished that when I dropped my right hand down to begin groping for the slot, it zipped right in, almost as if guided by mysterious forces. Now, that’s ergonomics.
Also, with General Motors buying out Saab a few years ago, it makes you wonder about the new GM trick of “returning” the ignition key to the dash from the steering column. Maybe the General ought to check out the quirky Swedish airplane company a little closer.
The only annoyance that continued to bother me about the 9.5 was the automatic climate control. I don’t mind having a car that’s smarter than I, but I hate it when the car insists on giving me air-conditioning when I’d prefer fresh-air circulating through the vents, windows, and/or sunroof. But, sure enough, every time you start the 9.5, the blasted climate control force-feeds you air-conditioning.
I kept rapping a cadence on the off-switch buttons to get rid of the air, but it was a nuisance every time I climbed into the driver’s seat. Only after the car was returned did I closely read all of the fine print on the ream of specs that came with the car. It tells you, for example, that you can get on the information display and “press clear and set simultaneously until you hear a chime,” then you can select whether you’d like information in English, Swedish, German, French, Italian or Spanish.
To my embarrassment, sure enough, you can reprogram the climate control. All you have to do is select your prefered setting, then “press OFF and REAR DEFROST simultaneously and hold the relevant button until the display flashes four times and a chime sounds. This will set or cancel the program.”
Talk about quirky! Somehow, I find it hard to believe that any jet aircraft engineer had any part in designing such a weird, illogical and anti-ergonomic procedure. The only plausible explanation is that it’s a marketing scheme designed to attract old 9000 lovers, where gadgetry replaced the 900’s ergonomic logic. A marketing type could argue that there’s already plenty about the 9.5 to get 900 cultists to renew their Saab loyalty.
1999 Saab 9.5
Likes: Performance agility is up without compromising luxury; more pleasantly quirky than the 9000 model it replaces; sure to be a hit with drivers who consider winter driving to be fun.
Dislikes: Overriding automatic climate control unnecessarily complex and a nightmarish interruption to ergonomics.
Bottom line: Base price $29,995; as tested $35,240.
About the Author
John Gilbert is a lifetime Minnesotan and career journalist, specializing in cars and sports during and since spending 30 years at the Minneapolis Tribune, now the Star Tribune. More recently, he has continued translating the high-tech world of autos and sharing his passionate insights as a freelance writer/photographer/broadcaster. A member of the prestigious North American Car and Truck of the Year jury since 1993. John can be heard Monday-Friday from 9-11am on 610 KDAL(www.kdal610.com) on the "John Gilbert Show," and writes a column in the Duluth Reader.
For those who want to keep up with John Gilbert's view of sports, mainly hockey with a Minnesota slant, click on the following:
Click here for sports