The wind is gusting above 40 miles per hour on New Brunswick’s Northumberland shore. I’m standing beside an oversized ATV trailer, desperately trying to figure out how one of three ratchet straps holding an ATV snowblower to the trailer tore itself to shreds, launching the blower into the trailer’s front box.
It’s the kind of wind that limits one’s cognitive function. Though often guilty of running multiple trains of thought along one set of tracks, I realize as I stare at the shredded strap that virtually all of my brain activity is presently devoted to maintaining a semi-socially acceptable level of snot spray and, concurrently, keeping my shirt from blowing up neck-high, Marilyn Monroe-style.
In the wee hours of Saturday morning, a whirlwind journey that began by leaving work early with the digital handshake of a deal, ended in my driveway with the blower intact. Hours later, our new 2018 Honda Odyssey EX ATV tow vehicle â€“ a replacement for the 2015 Odyssey EX we victimized for three years â€“ opened its tailgate to reveal a cavernous cargo area and hauled a wide array of 4x4s, 2x4s, and cement blocks home from the lumber yard. “Pickup trucks don’t take this much stuff in one load,” the teenaged attendant said. That afternoon, the Odyssey was back to hustling children across Prince Edward Island, three rows of seating full.
Can a minivan be beaten at life?
Admittedly, there were a handful of concerns that cropped up when we were considering swapping our Odyssey for a newer edition.
Would a nine-speed automatic, not the outstanding 10-speed from the Odyssey Touring, finally be an acceptable transmission?
Would the sharp decrease in internal storage cubbies be a sacrifice that, while trivial at first, becomes a major annoyance?
And would Honda Canada’s unwillingness to offer colour â€“ white, black, grey, and silver only on the EX â€“ dull our appreciation after the pleasure of our Obsidian Blue Odyssey?On the first count, it seems as though automakers, Honda at the very least, have ironed out the nine-speed’s rough spots. In fact, the nine-speed is exceptionally well mated to the 280-horsepower V6, serving up nicely timed shifts under hard throttle and operating at all other times in blissful oblivion. Fuel economy is slightly better than our ’15 Odyssey’s 23.5 mpg, albeit with an engine that’s still getting into its groove.
The lack of cabin storage is an odd quirk for a modern minivan. There’s still a vast center console and a very subdivided door panel, but the two large storage caverns ahead of the center console and a smaller one to the left of the steering wheel are gone. Granted, their disappearance is cancelled out to some degree by greater space for diaper bags to rest on the floor ahead of the center console.
Lunar Silver, meanwhile, has been a nice surprise. It stays visibly cleaner longer than the dark blue and has just a bit more life to it than a typical silver. I’d prefer the Touring’s 19-inch wheels, a roof that didn’t try to float, and less brightwork in the grille, but overall I’m much more on board with the design of the fifth-gen Odyssey than the fourth.
In a minivan, of course, form most definitely follows function. Our Odyssey is only a few weeks old but has already been tasked on multiple occasions with towingÂ our Suzuki Kingquad 750 from our home in Margate, Prince Edward Island, to the trails in and around Brookvale. (Our Odyssey is rated to tow up to 3,000 pounds; the Touring is rated at 3,500.)
We spent an afternoon touring the Island’s north shore with seven aboard, including five adults. This new Odyssey copes far better than the old with the heavier payload. The improved structural stiffness and sharper steering are a boon to handling, too. Perhaps most buyers don’t record lap times at Laguna Seca or Watkins Glen, but blasting from the north to the south side of the Island on empty, twisty, rural roads is a major part of our existence.
In all of these circumstances, we’ve been greatly impressed, going so far as to believe that the new van nearly embarrasses the old. That old van, mind you, carries great weight in the pre-owned marketplace. It held its value so well that at the 36-month juncture of a 48-month lease we received more on trade than our lease buy-out, which basically negated the increased cost of the newly leased van.
As for the ratchet straps, I was fortunate to have an extra in the storage box. Hours from home in Baie-Sainte-Anne, with intermittent cell service, darkness rapidly approaching, bowled over by the wind, and exhausted at the end of a work week, I was frazzled by the sight of my $900 Facebook Marketplace find resting unhinged at the front of the trailer. As my friend Jeff â€“ who, like me, has fewer life skills than a rookie Cub Scout â€“ hooked the rearmost part of the blower to the back of the trailer with our one surplus strap, I rearranged the front straps for greater security. We used the shredded strap’s leftovers to tie a thousand knots around the rear hookup, found a bungee to wrap around it as well, and Facetimed a trucker friend to ask for wise counsel.
He told me to trust my gut and head home.
We did just that. Slowly. Methodically. Gingerly.
Minutes later, Jeff asked if I noticed, when the blower was temporarily much closer to the van’s tailgate, that we could’ve driven the 3.5 hours to Baie-Sainte-Anne sans trailer and simply shoved the 44x44x80 blower into the van.
“Yes, Jeff,” I shamefully admitted. “Yes, I did notice that.”
One might have assumed that as a card-carrying member of the United Minivan Owners protest party, I would have been more conscious of the Odyssey’s inherent capabilities.
[Images: Timothy Cain/TTAC]