With six,402 miles under its belt, it is protected to say our 2015 Honda Odyssey is in its prime fresh adequate to really feel new, broken in sufficient to make the most of its three.five-liter V6, yet not beaten into submission by also several toddler snacks or dog hairs. We now have our Odyssey appropriate where we want it.
Alas, this also shall pass. The floor trays are not swiftly removed, so the winter’s salt and grime, mixed in with some of Prince Edward Island’s red dirt, is accumulating swiftly. Hairs from the dog, who’s usually kept behind the second row, are somehow attracting one particular one more along the sills of the two front doors. We’re quickly approaching the Odyssey’s 1st service, a cost-free one particular at Centennial Honda during our subsequent check out to the in-laws in PEI.
With a dirty, hairy interior and the 1st service complete, it’s official: our extended-term Odyssey is no longer new.
We drove home from Summerside in our Odyssey EX at the finish of final June, and continue to accumulate mileage gradually. As typically as not, we drive a manufacturer-supplied press vehicle if the dog does not need to join us and the timing is hassle-free for a child seat swap. There’s a palpable sense of superior horsepower now, but we’ve but to see the fuel economy figures improve. Not only was our summer season driving far more highway-centric, the temperatures had been obviously milder and we had been on all-season rather than winter tires.
Perhaps then, it’s notable that fuel mileage hasn’t noticeably worsened. We’re consistently seeing around 24 miles per gallon on the U.S. scale, just below 10L/100km for Canadians. (MarkPorthouse.net’s calculator is fantastic if you don’t want to do the math your self.) The Odyssey’s combined EPA rating is 22 mpg. The bulk of our driving is in a suburban setting.
Chasing and overtaking my brother in his 1.4T Cruze away from the MacKay Bridge tolls late one particular Sunday evening in January was a real joy, not just because the Odyssey is faster than my older brother’s auto – particularly when accelerating from moderate speeds to a highway pace – but due to the fact I’m secure in the understanding that he does not uncover any joy in prodding his own minivan. He drives a Dodge Grand Caravan, a van with a ideal-in-class three.6-liter 283-horsepower V6. Very best-in-class refers, of course, to the horsepower rating, not the engine itself. Lacking refinement, burdened by an uncooperative six-speed automatic, a Grand Caravan commanded to accelerate with all its gusto is not the happiest Grand Caravan, and is owned consequently by an unhappy driver.
That’s not to say the Odyssey’s six-speed automatic has all the charm of an S2000’s manual. Somewhat recalcitrant when cold, the Odyssey’s automatic is periodically befuddled by uphill acceleration at highway speeds. Mileage continues to eradicate numerous of the transmission’s poor habits, but a single wonders why minivan makers cannot install correctly smooth and cooperative transmissions the Sienna and Sedona units are not precisely paragons of functionality, either.
By way of almost eight months, other complaints merit small interest. With frequent fresh blankets of snow, we’re prompted to attain for sunglasses a lot more often these days than during the fall. This restores the belief that the Odyssey’s sunglasses holder, part of the conversation mirror that gives a fantastic view of the driver but a very distant look at the rear, is among the worst in the automotive industry. Numerous are built with less expensive materials, but I don’t recall experiencing a sunglass holder so incapable of accepting a pair of sunglasses. Oh, the space inside is acceptable, but the aperture is slim.
All other complaints revolve not about the van but the means by which Honda packages Odysseys. In standard Honda style, there are no alternatives, just trim lines. In hindsight, there are a couple of products that would be really nice to add to an Odyssey EX, but each need a leap to the Odyssey EX-L RES. That is a CAD $ 7,010 jump for a power tailgate and a leather-wrapped steering wheel.
The filth of winter is most apparent on the tailgate, and the tailgate’s grimy state is most obvious beneath the lip, beside the rearview camera, right where your clean hands need to go to open the tailgate.
It is not a large deal. I’m going to survive with out a power tailgate. (I personally despise how slow so a lot of autos total this power-operated job, which includes the Mercedes-Benz GLC300 we’re driving this week. Take a knee although you wait.) But given the degree to which this has turn into an anticipated function, it’s odd that Honda Canada will not let you have a energy tailgate in an LX, SE, EX, or EX RES. For a energy tailgate, American Honda expects you to spend for a $ 36,950 Odyssey EX-L. It is unavailable on the $ 30,300 LX, $ 33,450 EX, and $ 34,400 SE.
As for the leather-wrapped wheel, it’s once again a feature without which I can cope. But practically every single press car that comes our way is a prime-spec model, so each time I get back into my personal vehicle, I’m missing out on the key touch point. Following extensive time in something pretty miserable like the Honda HR-V, there’s a sense of relief realizing there’s a wildly superior choice in our own driveway.
Except that the HR-V’s steering wheel is nice. And our Odyssey’s is not.
Timothy Cain is the founder of GoodCarBadCar.net, which obsesses more than the free of charge and frequent publication of U.S. and Canadian auto sales figures. Adhere to on Twitter @goodcarbadcar and on Facebook.