GM Produces New Minivan Generation

When American Dreamers drove the firstborn of the baby boom to their Kaiser homes in the San Fernando Valley (“Northridge Knolls . . . $8,000--GIs No Down”), it was in another suburban essential of those late ‘40s--the plastiwood-paneled, chromium-plated, harmonica-grilled, nine-passenger station wagon.

Park Club. Country Squire. The names implied living in Connecticut, working in the big city, and men in gray flannel suits drinking arid martinis on commuter trains. In the four decades since, Americans have bought about 35 million station wagons.

But today’s trend--and one still based as much on image as on any straight sense of utility--is away from the station wagon and toward several dozen marques of imported and domestic minivans.

Station wagon sales are down and stuck around 700,000 units annually. Next year, say researchers, minivan sales could touch one million. Of particular satisfaction to flag-waggers, Lee Iacocca and the UAW is that 97% of the U.S. market is held by domestic minivans and 51% of that huge slice belongs to Chrysler.

Now comes General Motors with the second generation of minivans--that are so rounded, so streamlined, so wedgy, they make earlier editions look like Conestoga wagons. They will be battling Ford (the existing Aerostar) and Chrysler (Dodge Caravan and Plymouth Voyager) and the imports from Mazda and Toyota.

Under the generic heading of All-Purpose Vehicle, GM’s entry is a three-division product. Pontiac calls its version the Trans Sport and it is on sale this month. Chevrolet introduced the Lumina APV in September. Oldsmobile will come to market later this year with its Silhouette.

They are identical vehicles apart from some reworked skirting here, a different facia line there and leather upholstery available only on the slightly up-market Oldsmobile.

All come with 3.1-liter, V-6 engines, automatic transmission and injection molded fenders that pop out like Ping-Pong balls when dented by the dings and furrows of outrageous parking.

Price ($15,000 for naked versions, $20,000 for one with all toys and trimmings) and performance are much the same and so is the 2001 styling input by Italian designer Pinafarina.

With their sloping noses, generous use of aerospace carbon composites and low aerodynamic coefficients, the APV appears to have been whelped at Edwards Air Force Base.

The windshield is 17 square feet of glass raked to a 66-degree slope. To reduce the obvious greenhouse effect, a special coating has been applied to reflect 60% of the solar heat load away from driver and passengers. To increase the space shuttle look, the pitch of the windshield continues through the hood line and flows into grooved, bulging bumpers suggesting an air-cushion vehicle for lunar cruising.

By concept and purpose, however, the APV is strictly down-to-earth.

The average suburban mom and dad with their 1.4 pets and 2.5 children hitting .384 in Little League have had it with station wagons that drive like pickups.

They have found that even fur-lined vans equipped with VCRs and bean bag chairs lurch and clatter no less than the van driven by the pool cleaning man.

Missing has been a family vehicle that implied urban-rural elegance, had enough hauling area to satisfy Bekins--and really did drive like a car.

The APV is such a vehicle and Pontiac’s Trans Sport (based on the Pontiac 6000 platform) is typical of GM’s series.

Here is emphasis on functional design before attention to styling. Here is the product of some serious team-think about end use: If seats are to be removable, can they be removed quickly, easily and by an fumble-fingered owner who thinks a socket wrench is a torn rotator cuff? Does interior space equate to maximum usable space? How much additional loading room in the rear is allowed by front-wheel drive, which does not require differential and drive-shaft humps? Does the ride approximate that of a car or is it exactly the feel and performance of a car?

The verdict: the minivan should do for family men what the mini-truck has done so successfully for the handyman.

Visually the Trans Sport is exquisite.

It is over styled, of course, and really does look like something that should be mounted on the monorail at Disneyland. But if God had been interested in purpose devoid of shape, he would have given Eve square shoulders.

So the Trans Sport has been allowed to flow and sweep and those are verbs of the wind, not some mechanical blockhouse. Slotted magnesium wheels are in concert with the grooved, wraparound skirt. Every slope of the roof line leads to a curving door in search of a rounded corner. Black glass conceals ugly posts. All the necessities--headlights and handles, seams and grill--are flush, recessed and integral.

Thanks to composite panels (also used for hood, roof, tailgate and rear quarter areas) the Trans Sport’s barn doors open with ease. Stepping up into the vehicle is a zero energy maneuver. The sit-down into bucket seats is barely noticeable. Such lack of extrusion is what comfortable travel is all about.

And those seats (take your pick of benches or buckets and configurations ranging from five to seven passengers) really do come out with a flick and a click, without tools.

All-Purpose Vehicle, however, is something of a misnomer.

For if “all-purpose” means towing a 40-foot sailboat or hauling 8,000 pounds of reinforcing bars, you’d be better off with a truck. But if the average load tends to be no weightier nor tougher to load than a platoon of kids, four tubas and two damp dogs, the Trans Sport, as a people mover, is perfect.

Now the bad news.

Someone on Pontiac’s dashboard team must have mumbled when ordering and mounting heater and air controls.

The result is a downsized climate panel and tiny buttons that can only be seen by squinting around and below the steering wheel. How small the buttons? Imagine a pocket calculator. Think about operating one at arm’s length while driving 55 m.p.h. At night.

Ducting for the van’s man-made climate is another problem.

Despite a secondary fan for rear seat passengers, air barely whispers from small-mouthed vents and into the back forty. So when the environment is toasty and Palm Springs up front, it’s Michigan out back and Seattle somewhere in between.

Externally, Pontiac has persisted with door handles that are mounted north to south.

Vertical handles require the application of force to either left or right of the handle, which is cumbersome and awkward for any tugger attempting to bring the door towards them. With horizontal handles, direction of force and direction of travel do not cancel themselves out.

On the tailgate, Pontiac approaches handling with the right idea but, again, the wrong item of equipment. This time, the latch is a small butterfly handle. It has room only for fingertips. An entire hand around a full handle is needed to open and raise any tailgate.

Some magazine critics have found fault with the power spread of the Trans Sport, in particular with its oomph level above 50 m.p.h. when carrying bodies. The Trans Sport, obviously, is no Testarossa. On the other hand, few family men are Ferrari drivers and all are quite accustomed to the amble of suburban transportation impaired by family, coolers, barbecues and beach umbrellas.

Yet full or even half-loading represents only 8% of all trips undertaken. Under-loaded or empty, the Trans Sport leaves the line with ample vigor. Under way, it will hum along as well as anything else in the van pool.

Brakes are all they should be and at any speed. The steering seems a little on the floppy side and when combined with the obvious breadth of the vehicle, handling becomes somewhat twitchy when crowded by irritable traffic on surface streets.

In just about all other respects, the Trans Sport certainly fulfills its promise--that is, to deliver the starting lineup of your high school basketball squad, plus totes, with the ease, comfort and quiet of a modern sedan.

The concept of the APV is quite brilliant. It’s the execution that is lightly scratched by flaws. But next year . . . well, with a tweak here and a correction there, GM could be hitting a home run.

James Westby, an APV manager for GM, has noted that these minivans are aimed at those who have been delaying buying until someone took the bounce and boxiness out of the product.

A GM marketing survey has shown that typical minivan buyers will be family persons and college graduates making more than $50,000 a year.

They also will be members of the fortysomething set--whose first car rides likely came when their parents drove them home from the maternity ward in a Country Squire station wagon.

1990 PONTIAC TRANS SPORT SE COST :

Base-- 18,125. As tested-- $19,650. ENGINE :

3.1-liter V-6, developing 120 horsepower. PERFORMANCE :

0-60, manufacturer’s claim, 13 seconds. Estimated top speed 100 m.p.h. Fuel economy, city-highway average, 20 m.p.g. CURB WEIGHT :

3,500 pounds. THE GOOD :

Space-shuttle styling and fun before function. Estimated top speed 100 m.p.h. Room galore. THE BAD :

Poorly located, pinhead heater controls. Vertical door handles, undersized tailgate latch. THE UGLY :

Yesterday’s vans.