2007 Acura RDX

2007 Acura RDX - At the RDX’s debut in mid-2006, Acura defined the compact crossover as an “entry premium CUV” designed to appeal to “high-energy urbanites” who enjoy a “24/7 lifestyle.”

We weren’t quite sure what that marketing rebop meant, but if it has anything to do with 3 a.m. drag racing on Wilshire Boulevard, you could do worse. With a turbo­charged and intercooled (a first for any U.S. Honda vehicle) 2.3-liter, i-VTEC four providing power (240 horses at 6000 rpm, 260 pound-feet of torque at 4500 rpm), the RDX can scoot to 60 mph in less than 6.5 seconds, which is quicker than the other major players in this class (BMW X3, Land Rover LR2), as well as a good many cars.

Moreover, the RDX has moves to go with its muscle. We judged its handling as deft as the BMW’s in a shootout with the X3 and the LR2 [“Attack of the Flying Cicada Killers,” July 2007], and it has impressed all of our drivers with its zealous responses—with one reservation.

But we’ve gotten a bit ahead of our narrative.

Our long-term test subject arrived at the C/D offices on July 13, 2007, with its 18-gallon tank full of premium fuel and 75 miles on its odometer. Acura classifies vehicles equipped with major options such as a nav system as separate models, and that’s true of the RDX, which is offered in standard and Tech-package trims. The two levels are mechanically identical, with the 2.3-liter turbo and Acura’s SH-AWD system, which delivers extra thrust to one or the other of the rear wheels in hard cornering to enhance handling. The system normally delivers 90 percent of engine output to the front wheels but can send as much as 70 percent to the rear wheels.

The basic RDX is nicely equipped, with the amenities one expects in an entry-luxury CUV: a power sunroof; leather-trimmed seats, heated up front; a good audio system with an in-dash six-CD changer and XM radio; power windows and locks; heated power mirrors; anti-lock brakes; stability control; and front, side, and curtain airbags. Its 2007 MSRP was $33,665; it’s $34,455 for 2009.

The Tech package adds a nav system with voice recognition and real-time traffic info; a rearview camera; hands-free wireless phone interface; dual-zone climate controls; upgraded 10-speaker AM/FM audio with a six-slot CD/DVD-audio changer; an owner-programmable auxiliary-info display; and steering-wheel controls for the phone, the voice recognition, and the info display. It was priced at $37,165 in 2007 ($37,755 for 2009).

http://www.caranddriver.com/reviews/hot_lists/car_shopping/long_term_road_tests/2007_acura_rdx_long_term_road_test

2004 Acura TSX

2004 Acura TSX - Trying to apply that drooling dialogue to anything but a sexy exotic becomes a stretch. In the Acura lineup, the only candidate for this sort of lust is the NSX sports car. Not that all premium Hondas aren’t “choice” automobiles—it’s just that none but the NSX delivers the prestige and performance comparable to a Ferrari’s.

Take Acura’s new sports sedan, the TSX. It’s a car that distances itself from its rivals not by performance numbers (although they’re generally as good) but rather by how it performs. The TSX goes about its business so smoothly and so silkily that precision could be its middle name. And it is targeted squarely at those Gen Xers who so fondly remember the words of the wise Ferris.

That now 30-something demographic—a majority married, more than half males, pulling in about $80,000 a year, according to Acura—is whom the brand is missing with the just-out-of-college RSX and the wife-and-kids TL. So enter the gap-filling TSX, a $26,990 rebadged European-market Honda Accord equipped with either the six-speed manual tested here or a five-speed automatic with a manual-control feature. At that price, Acura’s demographic prediction makes sense. TSX buyers won’t be the same guys dropping 30 large on Mitsubishi Evos or Subaru STis—what wife would allow her husband to buy a car with a wing the size of an ironing board? We all know who makes those calls.

For just under $27,000, the TSX comes loaded. That means perforated leather seats (heated up front), dual-zone automatic climate control, a power sunroof, a 360-watt stereo with an in-dash six-CD changer, high-intensity-discharge headlights, and 17-inch wheels. Tack those features onto an Audi or BMW, and you’ll understand the meaning of base price. The only option on the TSX is a $2000 navigation system with voice recognition.

Sit behind the TSX’s leather-wrapped, three-spoke steering wheel, and it appears as if all the money went into the materials and the fluidity of the parts. The sumptuous leather, the tasteful metallic accents, the LED gauges, and the top-grade plastics are befitting a car costing twice as much. The dash covering is made sans PVC, a material that can wreak havoc on quality control, and instead is manufactured using a high-caliber spray-formed urethane skin technology. All the materials scream luxury, and all the parts whisper smooth. Every knob, switch, and moving part seems to be glazed with Teflon. In fact, the moving parts of the tilting and telescoping steering wheel are coated with a resin for ease of operation.

The engine wouldn’t be nearly as satisfying if not for the gem of a gearbox. Housed in a magnesium case for weight reduction, the six-speed manual features multicone synchronizers on all gears and 45-millimeter (about 1.75 inches) shift throws (an S2000’s are about 35mm) that result in a pleasingly light, crisp action; a flick of the wrist is all that’s required to row from gear to gear. Consequently, the powertrain harmony makes for brisk acceleration: 0 to 60 mph takes 7.2 seconds, which is as swift as the Lexus IS300, quicker than the Saab 9-3 Vector (7.3), but a few ticks slower than the BMW 325i (7.0) and Mazda 6 s (6.8). It should be noted, too, that the TSX’s 5-to-60-mph street-start time (7.7)—a more realistic indication—is only half a second slower than the clutch-burning launch, indicating that the closely spaced gear ratios make the most of the 2.4’s power band.

On the skidpad, the TSX pulled 0.85 g, which easily tops its four-cylinder Accord sibling (0.77) and bests adhesion numbers from competing front-drivers—the Saab 9-3 Vector (0.83) and the Mazda 6 s (0.84)—as well as the rear-drive Lexus IS300 (0.78). The only car the Acura couldn’t outgrip is the BMW 325i (0.86).

With a chassis as good as the TSX’s, the car is begging for more than just grippier shoes. Another 20, 30—Do we hear 40?—horsepower would really show off the chassis’s capabilities. But remember that the TSX is young, and Acura is bound to spice it up as it ages. Otherwise, there’s little to criticize about the TSX dynamically. The steering, à la Audi’s A4, is light, direct, and precise from lock to lock and exhibits a firm on-center feel with zero play. The brakes, with pie-size 11.8-inch vented front discs and 10.2-inch solid rear discs, furnish sure stopping power and direct progression, decelerating the 3246-pound TSX from 70 to 0 mph in 185 feet.

When driven near the limit, the TSX is a very predictable car. It has no surprises in store, delivering only what you’d expect in a well-balanced (60/40-percent front-to-rear weight distribution) front-driver. That means some understeer and body roll when rapid entry speeds and acute corners are unwilling to cooperate, but like we said, the dynamics are predictable. As is the remedy: Ease up on the throttle, allow the tires to scrub speed, and then show the throttle more love once the nose tucks in. As far as handling characteristics, the TSX is reminiscent of the dearly departed Honda Prelude, a multiple 10Best winner and champion of our “Best Handling Car Under $30,000” (June 1997).

Acura TL

Acura TL - It would make sense because only so much power can be delivered through the tires that are also called on to steer. The competition is well aware of this. Certainly, Honda knows this. When it set out to build a high-end sports car and a pure roadster, it didn't choose front drive. Why would it? Rear-drive cars are the best-balanced, best-handling vehicles. Both the Acura NSX and the Honda S2000 are great examples of Honda's knowing when rear drive is the right, and logical, choice.

Acura has done what it can with the limitations set forth by front drive, evidenced by the equipment on our test vehicle, which came with an available six-speed manual transmission (the first time one's been offered on the TL), a limited-slip differential, Brembo four-piston front calipers, 8.0-by-17-inch wheels wearing 235/45 tires, and a revised 3.2-liter SOHC 24-valve aluminum V-6—now the only engine available—that makes 270 horsepower at 6200 rpm and 238 pound-feet of torque at 5000. Those numbers are nominally more than the previous Type-S's 260 horsepower and 232 pound-feet and substantially more than the preceding standard model's 225 and 216—and lest you forget, only 20 horsepower shy of the NSX's big motor!

All that power and torque gets channeled through the front-drive dam like a school of spawning salmon, bogging the drivetrain as it tries to put the power down. Gobs of wheelspin ensues until the all-season Bridgestone Turanza EL42s are finally able to hook up, launching the TL upstream with serious authority. Zero to 60 mph comes in just 5.7 seconds, with the quarter-mile following 8.7 seconds later at 99 mph. The 3.2 revs easily and willingly, emitting a mechanical soundtrack that perfectly complements its 6800-rpm threshold. Typical of Honda manual transmissions, the TL's enters and exits its six gates with short, velvety throws, making rowing the gears more a joy than a chore.

Base your performance views on curves instead of straight lines, and the Acura's shortcomings quickly become evident. Hustled through the 300-foot skidpad, the TL managed to pull 0.81 g, which is less grip than that achieved by the G35 (0.87) and the 330i (0.83). A call to the Potenza bullpen is in order. On our 10Best handling loop, where twisty roads abound, the TL couldn't attack curves with the same speed and vigor as the Infiniti and BMW, inspiring less confidence because of its heavier front-loaded nature.

The limited slip does its job distributing power to the front tire with more grip, but with 238 pound-feet of torque on tap, there's no masking that the torque plays an unwanted role in the steering, especially now, with the direct connection via the six-speed gearbox. If anything, the limited slip exacerbates the existing torque steer, pulling on the wheel as if each pound-foot were a G.I. Joe action figure in a tug of war. On the plus side, as long as you're conscious of this trait, accelerating out of turns is surprisingly fast, although a bit nerve-racking.

The brakes, with vicelike Brembos up front, are strong-like-bull, although the 189-foot stopping distance from 70 mph doesn't exactly back up that result. The two-bill tire upgrade would have shortened the distance, but probably not enough to reach the seatbelt-locking halts of the BMW (168 feet) and Infiniti (153).

The TL rides on unequal-length control arms up front and a multilink setup in the rear, a system that soaked up our bumpy Michigan asphalt smoothly and quietly. Whether on silky highways or rippled byways, the TL was the epitome of sporty comfort, taking the edge off big impacts while still transmitting enough of the road to get a sense of the surface.

The TL comes standard with soft, perforated-leather seating; tasteful metallic or wood trim; Panasonic's hot new DVD-audio system with surround sound, developed with Elliot Scheiner, the Grammy Award-winning engineer who's worked with the Eagles, Beck, Sting, and others; Bluetooth wireless capability for cell phones, enabling hands-free operation through the TL's voice-recognition and audio systems; and curtain airbags. All of which is integrated into a cockpit that is bigger than its predecessor's (97.7 cubic feet versus 96.5) and richer in appearance and build quality.

The TL is a beautifully crafted and attractive sports sedan with loads of smart features, and its front-drive layout does have advantages, such as better traction on slippery and snow-covered roads. But until it sends power out back, it'll be hard pressed to get our nod over the rear-drive competition.

Acura RSX Type-S

Acura RSX Type-S - Clearly, the RSX team had something that wasn't broken. But with three years in its logbook, the RSX wasn't new anymore. And since new is the essence of the car biz, they fixed it anyway, a midterm update that can't be called a major makeover but is too comprehensive to be called a mere freshening. Sure, it includes the kind of minor tweaks common to most updates—the industry equivalent of plastic surgery, nips and tucks aimed at preserving youth. Examples: A rear wing has sprouted from the decklid of the Type-S model, the front fascia has been honed to a sharper edge, the headlights are new, the visible portions of the front and rear underbody are wider, there are new side sills, and the static ride height has been dropped 0.3 inch—all of which makes the car look lower, wider, and more aggressive.

The Type-S also gets a little more rubber—215/45R-17 Michelin HX MXM4s on 7.0-by-17-inch aluminum wheels versus the 205/55R-16s on 6.5-by-16-inch alloys previously employed. And the all-disc brake system has had updates to improve pedal feel. Bigger footprints, augmented by wider wheels and suspension tweaks, ought to add up to more grip, better transient response, and better stopping. And they do, although not, shall we say, dramatically.

The payoff? Acura claims the revised RSX delivers performance favorably comparable with that of "European sports cars." We have to wonder just which European sports cars the press materials are referring to, since the RSX operates in a class composed of small, $25,000 front-drive sports coupes.

Still, the tweaks do add up to measurable results. The '05 Type-S sprints to 60 mph in 6.2 seconds versus 6.3 for our '02 comparo car, and it covers the quarter-mile in 14.9 seconds at 95 mph versus 15.0 at 94. These are respectable numbers, but we frankly expected them to be a little more respectable. Could an increase in curb weight of 68 pounds—attributable to body-shell stiffening and added sound damping—retard forward progress? It could.

The RSX still won't let you forget it's a front-driver. Its defining trait continues to be understeer. As with the original, a limited-slip diff would mitigate this and also enhance corner exits, probably more than the sum of all the chassis changes.

But that's a track day sort of footnote. For all-around use—an "everyday sports car," as Acura calls it—the RSX is tough to top. It's quiet, comfortable, handsomely finished, good to look at, fast enough to dissect traffic, agile enough to be entertaining on your favorite stretch of back road. The Type-S was already top dog in its class. The improved version puts it even further ahead of the pack.

2005 Acura RL

2005 Acura RL - Built through 2004, the RL posed no serious threat to its German rivals until the redesigned model appeared in 2005. That RL wound up on our 10Best list. And last May, it beat up some serious German middleweights — the Mercedes E350, BMW’s 530i, an Audi A6 4.2 — but still came up short to an Infiniti, the impressive M45. In 2006, the Acura fell off our 10Best list.

We hit the road and started piling on the miles. Unfortunately, after only two weeks and 3456 miles on the clock, we found ourselves at the dealer’s door because the RL’s sunroof got stuck with its rear edge open in the vent position. The dealer couldn’t fix it, but we had to be in New Orleans pronto, so we took the MacGyver route, spending $1.68 for the sticky silver stuff and duct-taping the thing shut.

The service intervals on the RL are determined by an oil-life monitoring system, and your style of driving determines when and what gets serviced. Our first service came at 7032 miles and consisted of an oil and oil-filter change for a frugal $34. The maintenance computer called for subsequent services every 7000 to 8000 miles. Most were just oil and oil-filter changes, except for the work done at 29,748 miles, which involved a thorough inspection of the RL and new air filters in the cabin and engine. All five scheduled services over 40,000 miles set us back $427. Not much, but there are luxury automakers — BMW, Audi — who offer this maintenance as part of the purchase price.

We were back at the dealer two weeks and 1400 miles after our first scheduled service because the master power switch had arrived by carrier pigeon, apparently, and soon our faulty window and mirror were working again. Two thousand miles later the sunroof quit a second time. The dealer blamed it on a loose electrical wire. A month and a half and 5000 miles later, we were once again enhancing our budding relationship with the man from Acura.

Still, all these dealer visits didn’t reduce the RL’s popularity around the office, and the Acura continued to be the chariot of choice for long-distance trips. The logbook was full of testimony concerning its quality seats, deemed not only comfortable but also supportive when the driving grew spirited. The combination of a relaxing interior and superb sound system made long grinds easier to take in one sitting.

Complaints, yes, we got complaints. The ignition knob on the steering-wheel column seemed a dumb idea and left at least two editors stranded with a dead battery because they hadn’t turned the knob all the way off. In a car with a traditional ignition, they wouldn’t have been able to remove the key and kill the battery. Several folks here also barked about the programmable driver preferences for the seat and steering-wheel positions, door lock and unlock settings, and lighting choices. Confusingly, some of these were accessed via the navigation screen, and others were controlled through a screen in the instrument cluster by buttons on the steering wheel.

There was no retribution by C/D staff for the eight unscheduled visits to the dealer. The Acura RL continued to be a staff favorite for comfy trips, short or long. The Acura suffered from a lot of minor problems — dare we reach for the “teething” metaphor? — that would nonetheless rate as a major pain to a “real life” owner, even though this swift, adroit cruiser benefited from a faultless and slick powertrain.

2007 Acura MDX

2007 Acura MDX - Acura’s new MDX has broken out of the pseudo-truck box and into fresh territory. It combines the control-tower outlook of an SUV with the interior space of a three-row wagon and the chassis muscles of a sporting sedan.

But no, this is a much taller machine than it drives, so much so that our feet hit the pavement like dropped potatoes on the first few exits. The roofline, at 68.2, is about 10 inches taller than the typical full-size sedan.

Acura credits several miracle ingredients for the superb handling. All MDXs have what’s called Super Handling All-Wheel Drive, a clever system of varying the driving inputs to each wheel according to computer sensibilities. A dashboard icon lets you watch it in action. For handling on dry pavement, the system drives the outside rear wheel 1.7 percent faster than the front wheels. The effect here should be rather like the “stagger” used in circle-track racing, where a larger-diameter tire is fitted to the outside rear as a way of counteracting understeer.

The test car was equipped with the optional Sport and Entertainment package, which includes Acura’s take on “smart shocks,” another miracle ingredient, this one to control two things: suspension motions and also the dynamic forces into the tire contact patches.

These two miracle ingredients, along with standard-equipment traction control and stability control, are really invisible to the driver; the MDX simply goes where you point it, even at exceptional speeds.

Miracle ingredients for safety include pyrotechnic seatbelt pretensioners, side airbags in front, and curtain airbags with a rollover sensor.

Steering is moderately heavy, deliberate. Interior accommodations are thoughtful. The center front armrest is split down the middle to allow either occupant to access console storage without disturbing the other’s elbow. There’s also a private bin on the passenger side of the tunnel, concealed behind a tambour door.

The MDX has first-class seating for four, two in front and two in back. The second row has seat heaters and excellent foot space on a nearly flat floor. Second class starts with the center of row two, which, surprisingly, has a pleasingly flat cushion and very good headroom.

In a tape-measure comparison of the space behind the second row with a Cadillac SRX, a wagon of somewhat similar concept that we’ve rated highly, the MDX is longer by about an inch and wider by nine inches, a much larger space. The MDX won’t put the tall-box SUVs out of business, but for roaddriving, it sure puts them to shame.