Putting the utility back in the SUV

We’ve been expecting you,” the friendly but slightly nervous Penske Honda salesman cautiously greeted me.

“You have?” I asked, stunned. “Bet you want to road test the S2000 — convertible, right?”

“Well,” I stammered, suddenly noticing my mug shot hung in each sales cubicle like a miniature post office warrant, “I’d really like to try the oh-four Element. Sir. Manual transmission if it’s not too much trouble, please.”

“Ohhhhhhhh, no, strictly automatic for you. No practice clutchless shifts in our new vehicles!”

Now how did that get out?!

He chose a silver metallic automatic two-wheel drive Element for me. I’m a proponent of the two-wheel-drive SUV, having owned one years ago — despite the dressing-down I got from my pal Tony Stewart (yes, that Tony Stewart) every time he got in my little SUV; apparently Stew doesn’t see the point in owning an SUV you can’t flog through the mud. But I say they have a place, especially for busy city people with no Baja aspirations.

The Honda Element’s front wheel drive will pull you through most of the mud you can expect to encounter around the metro Indy area. Of course, the four-wheel-drive would have been extremely useful on a recent trip to Mexico with my husband, where the Yucatan roads are little more than deeply rutted, rock-strewn donkey trails, and locals drive halfway on the shoulder (if there is one).

The Element’s not really intended to be an off-road vehicle, anyway, even if its ride, height and ground clearance are sufficient. Built on a Civic platform, the Element rides and handles more like a car than most truck-based SUVs. Sixteen-inch wheels and a wider stance than Honda’s CR-V add stability to the Element, allowing it to corner impressively for such a tall vehicle. There’s little body roll through the turns; it sticks to the ground surprisingly well.

Adhering closely to Honda’s original concept vehicle, the Element presents a strikingly distinctive appearance. Its funky, boxy two-toned verticality attracts attention. Square headlights in a broad grill and uniquely designed bumper are as unusual as the profile: a low hood line leading to a vertical windshield that reclines to an arched roofline curving back to a nearly vertical tailgate. The split rear door adds flexibility in loading, hauling and tailgate partying. Another unexpected feature is the suicide doors — once again promoting versatility and ease of loading, with no B-pillars in the way.

Inside, it’s all about utility. There’s a rugged, no-nonsense interior that combines versatility with easy maintenance. A urethane material that resists water, dirt and scratching coats the floor. Waterproof, stain-resistant fabric shares the wipe-down capability. Rear seats fold down or up, leaving flat floor space for cargo ... or Border Collies. When the front passenger seat is folded down, the Element is capable of carrying a 10-foot surfboard, or maybe even a go-kart. There are no less than 64 seat configurations. If your brother-in-law comes to visit and you need an extra bed, all the seats can be folded back to make a double bed. The good news is it’s uncomfortable enough that he won’t want to stay long!

Storage and space abound inside the Element. Storage shelves and bins, compartments and cup holders on the floor between the front seats hold everything from snacks to an MP3 player — there’s even an auxiliary jack for it. With so many vertical windows, visibility is superb. At least, up high. Try backing into a stall — you’ll never see the curb behind you. The Element would be a hit in St. Croix, where visibility is key. Those screwy drivers take the twisty, hilly roads at top speed, guiding left-hand-drive vehicles around blind corners in a British-style left-lane situation. Between that crazy configuration and the 160-proof Cruzan rum, it’s no wonder there are so many head-on collisions down there! At least the Element has dual front airbags and optional side airbags, anti-lock brakes and a five-star rating in frontal crash tests.

The Element feels like a big vehicle, inside and out. In fact, it felt like it was too much vehicle for a four-cylinder engine. Low-end torque was relatively good, despite a touch of torque steer, but it simply felt like it needed a V-6. It’s a lot of SUV for the four-cylinder to support.

I thought of Stew as I drove around, eyeing every muddy rut beyond the asphalt and chuckling as I recalled his rolling eyes every time I reminded him I didn’t have a four-wheel-drive. Wonder what he’d say about this bare-bones utility vehicle — or if I ought to get the four-wheel-drive version just in case I can talk the blond into another trip to Mexico? Either way, I’d insist on the manual transmission. After all, I was getting pretty good at shifting without the clutch!