Echoes of the Present: 1979 Honda Accord 4-Door Archive Road Test

From the March 1979 issue of Car and Driver.

Japanese manufacturers are building the best small American cars money can buy. Firms like Datsun and Subaru cling to products that are more in the Japa­nese tradition, but Toyota, Mazda, Mit­subishi, and Honda are cranking out trick little cars that would warm the cockles of a Detroit product planner’s heart. Of these, Honda’s Accord is the best. It is also, alas, the most expensive, but it is a class act and a car that could probably solve the transportation prob­lems of at least 75 percent of the people currently driving around on the high­ways of the good old U.S. of A.

The great trading companies of Japan have apparently decided that the world wants cars combining the size and weight of European econoboxes with the cushy velour and gadget features of traditional American bargain-cruisers, and the sales of Japanese cars in the Western world would seem to support them in that point of view.

In almost ev­ery case, things like ride, handling, roadholding, and interior accommoda­tions are much more like those of the best American cars than the best Euro­pean cars. Honda’s effort is a bit more European. Somehow Honda has made the Accord in such a way that it appeals to both foreign-car enthusiasts and American-car loyalists in this market. It’s also possible that none of the above speculation is true. Maybe people from all walks of life and every automotive persuasion buy Hondas simply because they’re terrific little cars, and never mind all the punditry about American­-European-Japanese blendings of auto­motive philosophies. Whatever it is, Honda is a remarkably successful car in this country, in spite of the fact that it costs the very earth to buy.

This new Accord four-door looks and feels like a mini-Mercedes. All it lacks is torque. If it had the dig of a Ford Fiesta, it would be perfect. It carries four American adults in remarkable comfort, it cruises at 75 or 80 effortlessly and quietly, and its ride is smooth and sup­ple. It doesn’t handle or hold the road as well as a Rabbit or a Fiesta, but it’s better than most others, either Japanese or European. Ironically, Detroit simply hasn’t yet come up with anything to touch this most American of imported cars. The Chevette is a great little trouper in its way, but one could “LX” the living hell out of a Chevette and still not have a Honda Accord. The Accord is more than fancy trim and ingenious extras; the Accord is a better idea. If the price strikes you as mini-Mercedes too, then consider the Honda Civic: another terrific little car, still a bargain, that has been somewhat overshadowed by its snazzy big brother.

One’s first visual impression of the new Accord four-door sedan is a kind of Teutonic seriousness and restraint in the styling. Like the Accord coupe, this Honda eschews the “Gee, Dad, it’s a Wurlitzer!” look that characterizes so many Japanese cars. Available only in silver or burgundy, it is quite hand­some, and that handsomeness—along with the strong signal of quality it con­veys—kind of sets you up for the price sticker. “You” in this case would have to be a knowledgeable car enthusiast, however. That culturally deprived seg­ment of American society that still be­lieves that small cars are, by definition, cheap and chintzy will choke on the price and never come to know all the goodies that await on the other side of the sticker.

Those goodies are many and varied. Much of the deluxe “LX” trim from the coupe has been incorporated in the se­dan’s appointments, and this helps con­vey a feeling of BMW/Mercedes luxury rather than Rabbit/Fiesta corner-cut­ting. Standard equipment includes an AM/FM radio, steel-belted radials, a ta­chometer, a trick warning system that lights up in the center of the instrument panel to tell you if any door or the deck lid is left ajar or if the brake lights aren’t working, a maintenance reminder, a fuel-reserve warning light, fully reclin­ing front bucket seats, rear-seat head­rests, a remote trunk-lid release, a trunk light, a vanity mirror, and lighted ashtrays in both rear doors and the right front door. There’s also a handy, con­sole-mounted lock for the rear doors, with its own warning light.
Sitting down, closing the door, fas­tening your harness, and starting the engine all convey cumulative sensa­tions of well-being and reassurance.

The look of German quality also comes through as a quality feel. The five-speed transmission’s shift linkage is positive and accurate. The power steering, with variable boost, is the same. Every con­trol, whether push-pull, twist, or slide, works with commendable economy of effort. Headlights operate at a twist of the turn-signal knob; high-beams and overtaking flasher are on the same stalk. The windshield-wiper-and-washer control, with two speeds plus an intermit­tent mode, is on a similar stalk, 180 de­grees away, on the right side of the steering column. Seat adjustments for both fore-and-aft movement and back­rest angle accommodate drivers and passengers up to 6 feet 3 inches without infringing unduly on the rear passen­gers’ legroom. Front headroom was suf­ficient for the writer wearing anything but his really serious cowboy hat, but rear headroom is less generous. The front seats themselves conform to the accepted fashion in European buckets, being both comfortable and orthope­dically correct, and the rear seat is bet­ter than many in much larger cars. The plush upholstery fabric, the same shade of dark red in all cars, is soft and warm to the touch, while the seats it covers are quite firm.

Driving and riding posi­tions are generally pleasant and non-­fatiguing—even on one long and tense junket through 200 miles of pea-soup fog and slippery two-lane.
Any drive of more than ten minutes’ duration in the Honda should suffice to make a small-car believer out of all but the most hidebound big-car loyalist. There’s no doubt that you’re in a small car—the wheelbase is unchanged from the coupe, though overall length is in­creased by eight inches—yet the anthro­pometric envelope that surrounds each occupant is as comfortable and commo­dious as he’d have found in a traditional Ford or Chevy intermediate a few years ago. The driver is well placed before his instruments and controls, and visibility
front and rear is better than average. The engine is very quiet. With only 1751 cc displacement (an increase of roughly 10 percent) and 72 horsepower at 4500 rpm, one might expect it to be a little noisy in its work, but it hums along with minimum fuss and actually sounds quite pleasant.

The only glitch we discovered in the performance of our five-speed-manual­-equipped test car was a definite flat spot at low revs. Beyond 2500 rpm the engine pulled nicely all the way to its 6200 red­line, but getting away smoothly in first was never easy—slipping the clutch was mandatory—and dumping it into fifth gear below 3000 rpm gave the distinct impression that its little Japanese heart had stopped beating. Full throttle and lots of revs eliminated the problem, and the car fairly sings under that kind of treatment—even though it really isn’t what you’d call quick—but unfortunate­ly that isn’t the way most people drive. After you’ve spent a full day behind the wheel, the knowledge that it’s probably going to balk when you let the clutch out at the next traffic light starts to be­come obsessive, and the problem gets worse and worse.

Serious high-speed motoring is not the sedan’s strong suit. Heavier than the coupe by 95 pounds, it’ll cruise all day at speeds that would cause the National Safety Council cardiac arrest, and it’ll do it with less fuss and bother than a lot of highly touted imported and domestic “performance” machines, but it really wants to be treated gently. Wailing over the bumps and through the hair­pins is okay once in a while, but the Ac­cord really prefers to show its stuff when you take the family to Grandma’s house or carpool three friends to the office. Used the way most Americans use their cars, it is superb. The ride is smooth, everything works, and the lug­gage space is ample. The Honda does what the average guy always felt he needed a standard American car to do, but it does it with charm and flair.

As is our wont, we drove the Accord pretty hard, in spite of what I’ve just said. The most interesting day for us, and the most challenging for the Hon­da, was one Sunday when we drove clear across the state to sample the product of an aspiring young winemak­er. When we left home at sunrise, the roads were covered with ice. When we turned off the Interstate and onto the back-country roads, we were confronted with four to six inches of fresh snow and slush. It didn’t take much time or too many sips to prove our prejudices about Michigan wine—it was kerosene—so we tramped through the snow-covered vineyards, ate icy-cold unpicked grapes, which were as good as the wine was ghastly, and got back on the slippery roads. We skipped the Interstates alto­gether for the trip home, and that was negotiated in near impenetrable fog.

For the first half of this adventure the Honda’s running mate was a brand-new Mazda RX-7, which was sideways most of the time and actually went off the road twice. During all this sturm und drang the little Accord never put a foot wrong. It cruised along without ever breathing hard, towed along by its transverse engine and front-wheel drive as true as a die, fully capable of running off and leaving the Super-Omigod Maz­da in a cloud of ice particles anytime the driver wanted to put his foot down.

How much of this superiority was Hon­da and how much of it was simply due to the well-known advantages of front­-wheel drive might be debatable, but the three people in the Honda were too busy enjoying themselves to think about it much. We were safe and secure and comfortable in a little car with a volcanic heater, efficient wipers and washers, a fine radio, and roadholding and traction that absolutely would not quit in the ice and snow. It was a memorable day for three car freaks, and we’ll never forget the Honda because of it.

It’s a real shame that all these minia­turized benefits cost so much money. As good as the Accord sedan admittedly is, it cannot represent more than about $5000 in genuine consumer value. All the rest is politics, economics, and mon­etary fluctuations. However, car people make no bones about their own imprac­ticality when it comes to falling in love with cars. If you drive the Accord sedan, and it works as well for you as it did for us, you’ll probably decide to fork over the $6365, even as you’re telling your­self that that's too much to pay for an economy sedan.

Counterpoints

I’ve always been of the opinion that the smaller the car, the more each passenger needs his own door. And since the Ac­cord is one of the smaller cars extant, I’m happy to see that Honda has obliged me in this regard. Now I can enjoy an Accord without so much as the inconvenience of bending forward when one of my passengers disembarks.

Adding two more doors brings the Ac­cord even closer to being one car that pleases all people. But what’s more amaz­ing is that the Accord doesn’t achieve its universal appeal by being innocuous. Instead, it’s bursting with good-natured personality and sheer roadway talent. Here is a car that’s good basic transporta­tion: reliable, economical, and comfort­able. It’s also luxurious and stylish. And on top of that it’s quick and agile—very much a driver’s car. That it also happens to be eminently affordable brings us back to the subject of doors. In most respects, this Honda blows everyone else’s off. —Rich Ceppos

The interior of this new Accord offers four good-sized grown-ups the chance to enter, each through his own door, and be seated amidst a multitude of clever Hon­da comfort and convenience touches. And the exterior has the look of a mini­-Mercedes, to boot. But this little rooster offers even more. The power steering is light at low speeds, masking front-wheel-­drive pull, and gets firmer as you go fast­er. The handling, with surprisingly little understeer, is downright pleasing, and feels better than that of early Accord coupes. Moreover, when Old Man Winter retches up slush, snow, and glare ice, the Accord will pull through. If Accords, one each, had been issued to Napoleon’s troops for the holiday season in Mother Russia, his descendants would rule the world today.

Gripes? The pedals are too close when your reach to the wheel is right, and the shifter is a little rubbery. That’s as long as my complaint list gets. There are a nun­ber of little four-doors around, but few with the Accord’s prime blend of hospi­tality that invites you in to take a seat any­where you'd like. —Larry Griffin

Oh boy, do I like this little beauty. Well, actually, I shouldn’t call it a beauty. Its exterior styling is a little too bland for my tastes, although the shape is obviously well suited for its assigned task of carry­ing four passengers. Form can successful­ly follow function, you see. And that goes for the interior as well. Clean, informative instrument panel, good driving position, good visibility, and tasteful but subdued luxury. I didn't like the power steering, which was too light for my tastes, and I was disappointed with the lack of power. But overall, this is easily one of the best small sedans ever. Honda showed us it knows how to make cars with the Civic, proved itself again with the Accord coupe, and now has gone three-for-three with the four-door. Let's hope the long-­rumored 2+2 sports car extends the win­ning streak. —Mike Knepper