1995 Honda Prelude SR-V

In 1995 I decided to purchase a new car. It was the first and, perhaps, my last new car. Allowing someone else to take the depreciation hit seems to be a much wiser method of making money last a bit longer. Plus, the novelty of a new car never lasts long and the first scratches are always the hardest to bear.

When looking to upgrade my Integra, I was wanted to stay within the sporty coupe class. Although I had hoped for a MR2 or RX7, they seemed beyond my reach and not quite fitting for my needs. My choices at the time were:

Acura Integra GS-R – As the Type R had not yet arrived, the GS-R represented the top of the Integra line. Powered by the now infamous B18 VTEC engine, aurally and tactilely it was a joy but it produced less than pleasurable optical signals from both interior and exterior vantage points. The projector headlights looked lost in a sea of polyurethane and the interior, though practical, seemed more dour than needed.

Eagle Talon – Loud, fast, obnoxiously styled – a Camaro for the import crowd. It certainly held a visceral appeal but I wanted to drive the car everyday for years; not driving loaner cars while it was in for repairs (hey, nice Neon!) nor feeling like I was in a red zippered Michael Jackson jacket long past its fleeting moments of trendiness.

Nissan 240SX – Yes to rear wheel drive, a beautiful chassis, and a classic design. No to the truck engine. Without the famed SR20DET under the hood, our S14 was like a good looking girl with a heart condition; promises of excitement but never in the mood.

Toyota Celica GT-S – 130 horsepower?

Then, there was the Honda Prelude SR-V.

This top of the line Prelude was, in my mind, the pinnacle of the now discontinued series. It had the best power to weight ratio, the best styling, the best handling and the most presence on the road. Many might argue that the final version was better but its styling was derivative both inside and out. Nothing in the entire product line showcased Honda’s boldness in the early 1990’s (excepting the NSX) as well as the Prelude and its proclamation of confidence has only been matched in its mainstream cars by the current generation of Civics..

The exterior was a marked departure from the classic shape of the third generation Prelude. Lower, wider, yet shorter than before, this Prelude was radical. The low, wide nose had a narrow band of lights that looked a bit like the second generation Integra but without the blandness. Inboard of the lights were nostrils that allowed more air into the engine bay while a protruding proboscis provided a further element of intimidation. A fourth generation rapidly approaching in your rear view mirror is an impressive sight The hood was wide and smooth with two character lines starting at the nose and spreading across the hood to the base of the radically raked windshield which offered a panoramic view. A short roof quickly became glass again, much like the fastback coupes of the muscle car era. The trunk was short and radically tapered capped by daringly styled triangle shaped lights on either side that mimicked those on the NSX. Even the sides of the car were stylized with a protruding lower portion of the door that precluded the need for side skirts.

Although some may decry the car as a styling gimmick, it stands out among the previous and later generations as the only adventurous Prelude in the marques 22 year and five generation history. In addition, the Prelude’s purity of design can be shown by how good it looks without any add-ons. Except for a de rigueur trunk spoiler, side sills, front splitters, rear diffusers were all absent. Of all the various body kits I have seen, none help improve the look.

Inside the Prelude continued its radical theme. Rather than the standard and staid instrument pod, the dash was spread across the entire cabin. Despite some critics decrying it as more Buicky than sporty, the necessary instrumentation was directly in front. The speedometer and tachometer were easily read and the lack of unnecessary dials added an air of simplicity. The fuel and temperature gauge were located farther to the right. Although not in the direct line of sight, they were big and bright enough to attract attention when needed. The idiot lights were located just below. Again, if something was wrong, you quickly noticed their presence as the previously dark area became alight. In addition, this being a Honda, the only light that ever appeared was the low fuel warning.

Compared to the Integra, you felt like you were in more than a fancy Civic. It worked wonderfully and broadcast to the passenger that this was not a regular Honda. There were a few drawbacks most notably, the lack of storage space. Although somewhat rectified with an interior redesign in 1994, the glovebox was only spacious enough to house my insurance. The manual (useless anyway) stayed at home. The centre console did provide a cup holder (passengers have two free hands!) and a small cubby hole good for a variety of small objects. As I wasn’t someone to carry around a lot of things requiring storage, it suited me fine. The back seats were a joke. I always thought that they should have either saved weight by removing them and locating the engine further back in the chassis (front mid-engine a la S2000) or go very radical by introducing a mid mounted drivers seat flanked by two recessed seats like a McLearen F1. Impractical in reality but sublime in concept.

In 1995 there were two models to choose from. The SR was the base model with a 2.3L 16 valve four cylinder pumping out 160 horsepower. This car was an impressive performer and many were sold especially since it could be optioned with an automatic for the proverbial hairdresser. However, for $3000 more, one could have the SR-V.

First the amount of extra kit you received for $3000 was substantial; the aforementioned rear spoiler ($800 option on the SR), factory leather interior, heated seats and exterior mirrors, and a subwoofer between the rear seats. There was, however, a 0.1L reduction in engine displacement.

This decreased displacement however, was worth every cent of the extra three grand since, lying atop the block, was Honda’s ingenious and drool inducing VTEC head. Pumping out 30 more horsepower despite the smaller displacement, the H22A was a miracle of both smoothness and power. Unlike the smaller but more popular B18 found in the Integra, the big block in the Prelude provided both power and torque. It also had a Jekyll and Hyde personality.

Around town, the engine was flexible, torquey and smooth. It never felt flat footed and it remained the most docile partner. A bit like a poor man’s Lexus SC400. However, when the tachometer crept above 5700 rpm, the monster awoke. With the big cam activated, the power surged, the noise double and the fun factor quadrupled. In wet conditions, traction would be lost when the big cam came on, even in third gear. Taking it up the Cut on Highway 1 in North Vancouver, few cars could keep up especially above 100 km/h. The power kept on coming.

Even now, five years after selling my Prelude, the sound of an H22 transitioning between valve timing sends shivers down my spine. Sounds are notoriously hard to describe but imagine the sound of a regular engine being suddenly replaced by a ripping, low pitched hammering sound.

Performance was credible with 0-60mph time in the mid to high sixes and, due to its exceptional high rpm operation, even more impressive 0-100mph times. Handling was stable and secure with only minor obligatory understeer especially when adding power when rounding wet corners. Unfortunately, it came shod with all season tires which were not in keeping with the cars sporting personality. Although I applaud Honda’s tendency to refrain from specifying larger than necessary tires, fitting all season tires to their second sportiest offering at the time seems like a poor decision. Most owners would gladly purchase a set of dedicated winter tires rather than enduring 4 seasons of compromise. Due to my conservative driving style, the Michelins lasted me the entire 7 years of ownership. I never was able to enjoy the Prelude with the tires it deserved.

Without an LSD and limited grip from the tires, wheel spin in the corners was a problem but torque steer was minimal. The steering felt nicely weighted and accurate. The car had a deliberate solid feel that differed from the light and tossable feeling of the Integra. Normally, I prefer lighter cars but sense of quality between the two was great enough for me to much prefer the Prelude. The clutch was a bit heavy and the shift action deliberate but the short throws and good feel more than compensated.

Compared to the ’89 Integra, the Prelude felt amazingly solid, quiet when driven sedately and much more powerful when the revs climbed. Due to their relative scarcity, most drivers were surprised at its acceleration while merging or sprinting away from a stop light. Although I managed to avoid a ticket through judicious use of the gas pedal and some luck, it was one of the fastest cars on the market.

In the summer of 2002, I was heading to Japan and needed to sell my car. In the 7 years and 80,000km that I had it, I only performed regular maintenance and changed the timing belt. Otherwise, it rode on its original tires and stopped with its original brakes. Although the A/C had stopped working (probably due to lack of use more than anything) and the central locking system was ineffective (see an upcoming blog), nothing had really gone wrong. However, the new owner probably had to replace these soon along with a clutch that was beginning to slip.

Overall, it was a wonderful car. Despite its front wheel drive and cramped cabin, it satisfied me emotionally and its reliability and economy kept money in my pocket. Unlike my Integra, I was certainly sad to see it go and admonished the new owner to look after it and not mod it beyond recognition. .

I hoped that my Prelude was a prelude to an S2000 but that was not to be.

1989 Acura Integra LS Special

Do you remember the first car you purchased? Undoubtedly you do. For me, a car fanatic from birth, my goal for many years was to buy a car. At first, I longed for an old Datsun 240Z, a first generation Mazda RX7, or a AW11 MR2. Although not powerful by today’s standards, they were the attainable high performance cars of my youth. However, to my parents, these cars were not acceptable (read likely to get me killed).

When my father’s co-worker had their 1989 Integra for sale, my father recommended that we take a look at it; front wheel drive, practical, sporty. It had been well taken care of and carefully driven, something that could not be assured with the other cars I had looked at. Although it wasn’t exactly what I wanted, Honda’s reputation, Car and Driver recommendations and the cachet of owning an Acura while in high school persuaded me to part with my hard earned money.

The styling was a typical 80’s design. The requisite pop-up headlights graced a short, low front end. The greenhouse was large with a large, panoramic windscreen and big windows all around. However, the elongated roof that accommodated a power sunroof resulted in a relatively steep glass hatch and tall hatch that created a relatively tall looking car. The polyurethane spoiler attached to the back did help alleviate some of the awkwardness, but the look was tall and narrow despite the ground effects.

The colour scheme was black and with gold coloured badging and wheels; bling before bling was popular. But no, those wheels were not 20 inches, nor even 16 inches in diameter. Just two inches over a foot, they left lots of room around the wheel wells further contributing to a look of instability. Long after selling the car, I learned that you could reduce the ride height quite easily but such information was hard to come by before the advent internet and the rise of tuner culture.

The inside was typical Honda; not luxurious but clean and efficient. Sport-style seats with reasonably bolstering allowed for a lot of support and comfort. The uprightness of the body ensured a lot of headroom despite the sunroof. The five speed manual transmission sat low and felt a little ropy. I distinctly remember missing quick shifts between first and second. Grouchy synchros or a common flaw of this transmission, I never found out. HVAC controls were logically arranged on the centre stack although they were the old style mechanical type requiring hefty tugs to change the ventilation setting. Beneath, lied the stereo along with a graphic equalizer. Boasting 4 speakers and Dobly Noise Reduction for those high-fidelity tapes, the sound was reasonable and much more impressive than the 1 speaker AM radio in the Celica. A meaty, leather wrapped 4 spoke steering wheel framed a set of easy to read gauges bathed in white light. And there, to the left of the speedometer, was why I came love the car.

Today, the norm is multi-valve engines with redlines well over 6000rpm. However, my sport car experience had been limited to a 1980 Toyota Celica GT. Boasting a 5 speed transmission (written on the outside of the car, no less), the engine was the venerable 22R. Reliable? Yes. Sporty? No. With a redline of 5000 rpm, the cacophony of a threshing machine, a supposed 95 horsepower and a fly wheel that seemed to fear circular motion, sportiness was more imagined than perceived. In addition, my father warned of the engine’s dislike of “high” revs and admonished me to go no higher than 3500 rpm. Of course, I did venture higher but there only seemed to be wince inducing noise up there; no power.

Stepping on the gas of the Integra for the first time, the tachometer rose with a fluidity that I could not imagine. The sound was sublime. Even in the upper reaches, the sound was smooth and sporty, nothing like the mechanical agony that emanated from under the Celica’s hood. 9 years later, 8 more valves, a computer, carburetion replaced by fuel injection, another cam and a plethora of other engine advancements graced the 1.6L that resided under the Acura’s hood. The 7000 rpm on the tachometer held me spellbound. Could a car actually rev that high? With only 118hp and little more than 100 pound feet of torque, the engine was not powerful, but it pulled the lightweight Integra without much effort and made fantastic sounds as it went.

Over the course of three years, I enjoyed the Integra immensely. However, gradually, the love affair began to grow tepid. The ride was sporty but body roll was quite pronounced owing to the relatively soft suspension, narrow track and relatively high centre of gravity. The suspension itself, though tuned smartly, was quite a simple setup with struts and torsion bars up front and a coil sprung rigid rear axle. The steering, though communicative was a variable assist unit that had only two settings. Around town, it was light and comfortable but, at highway speeds, the boost was reduced and the steering suddenly became unnaturally weighty. Although not bad in theory, with minimal need to drive on the highway, it was always a bit of a shock to discover that the steering wheel weight had suddenly increased and I needed to adjust. Body rigidity seemed low and the rattling hatch did not help to allay this feeling. A failed fuel pump and ripped CV boots were the only mechanical problems I encountered. The engine, though smooth, provided very little punch. The styling had not aged gracefully and the black and gold colour scheme was becoming less and less appealing by the day. The new Integras were lower, wider and more powerful. I knew it was time for a change.

Overall, the Integra was a great starter car for me. A great engine but not powerful enough to get me into trouble; a sporty suspension that had no hidden vices (apart from a bit of tail happiness when lifting the throttle during aggressive cornering); a practical body shape that accommodated friends and sports equipment.

In retrospect, I wish I held out for an MR2 or a Mazda RX-7. These are classic sporting cars and the driving pleasure would have been much better However, at that time, front wheel drive was the future and rear wheel drive seemed to be a thing of the past. Even the Mustang at the time was a candidate for front wheel drive (Ford product planners decided to keep the Mustang rear wheel drive and introduced the Mustang replacement as the Probe). In addition, overt sports cars are probably not the best for a new driver. Something forgiving that provides some thrills in a safe way is probably the how everyone should learn to drive.

With the dreams of a Toyota MR2 Turbo and a Mazda RX-7 Turbo gracing my garage, I began plotting the demise of my Integra Although there was some sadness in letting it go, I never regretted my decision to abandon the Integra since I stayed within the Honda family and moved up to it’s angrier, more satisfying older brother.