2003 Honda Element 2WD EX (2024)

Honda introduced its Element sport-ute in December 2002 thinking it would appeal to males under 25 with "active" lifestyles. To attract these fickle guys, Honda made the Element 12.1 inches shorter and 4.2 inches higher than the CR-V—on which the Element is based—resulting in a jerrycan on four wheels. Much to Honda's surprise, sales of this curious-looking vehicle in 2003 revealed that it had attracted a much older crowd—indeed, 67 percent of buyers were over 35, 38 percent were women, and the median age was 42.

Intriguing stuff. After all, Honda's marketing gurus were confident they'd done their homework. They'd spent time at universities around the country, conducting workshops and asking lots of college dudes what the heck they wanted in a vehicle. The answers they got became the features incorporated into the Element: go-anywhere capability; a rugged, versatile interior with loads of cargo-carrying potential; peppy performance combined with good fuel economy; standout styling; and a price that wouldn't double the monthly rent check. How could Honda foresee that what the kids wanted was also what many of their parents sought?

We wanted to get in our two cents' worth. Our staff comprises almost every demographic group on the planet, from 21-year-old college males to 50-year-old married moms to 65-year-old bachelors. What better test gang than ours? Perhaps 40,000 miles in our hands would reveal the vast appeal of the eye-catching Element and whether Honda's renowned reputation for durability, reliability, and frugality was at work here, too.

In late February 2003, our front-wheel-drive Element EX landed in our Ann Arbor parking lot. Dressed in Galapagos Green paint, it came with a 160-hp i-VTEC four-cylinder engine, a five-speed manual transmission, four-wheel disc brakes with ABS, A/C, a 270-watt stereo with a CD player, a urethane-coated flat floor, waterproof seats, composite body panels, and 16-inch alloy wheels. With no options on the Monroney, price as tested came to $19,110. We didn't opt for the four-wheel-drive, five-speed-manual version because we'd have had to wait for several months, and we're an impatient bunch.

The Element's initial romp at the test track produced impressive numbers: 0 to 60 in 8.4 seconds, the quarter-mile in 16.6, 70-to-0 braking in 193 feet, and 0.76 g on the skidpad. Neither of our two previous long-term SUVs—a 200-hp Mazda Tribute ES V-6 4WD (November 2002) and a 270-hp Chevy TrailBlazer EXT LT (December 2003)—could beat those figures. In fact, the only number to match the Element's was the Mazda's 0-to-60 time.

The power and fuel economy put forth by Honda's bitchin' box took all of us by surprise. Myriad logbook entries reveled in the 2.4-liter's prowess: "Happy power on the country two-lanes." "The engine is smooth, lively, and quiet, even while turning 4000 rpm on the highway." One editor raved that the 2.4 had "enough power for passing in top gear." Perhaps more impressive: All that grunt still netted 25 mpg over 40,000 miles.

Additional praise was heaped on the slick five-speed manual, especially its center-dash-mounted gearshift that most found "very easy to adapt to."

As a highway cruiser and road-trip car, the Element shined. It exhibited little wind noise at speed—despite its resemblance to a mail truck—and its thumping stereo, comfortable seats, and gobs of room made long excursions a breeze. Attesting to its popularity with the staff, it accrued 40,000 miles in just 10 months of duty, much of it run up on long hauls—to Arizona, California, Florida, New York, even Alaska. That trip to the Last Frontier—conducted by our good friend Russ Ferguson (auto shop instructor at nearby Washtenaw Community College) and his brothers, David and Peter—ran up 10,250 miles, spanned just 18 days, and tested the Element's long-haul capabilities. Averaging more than 570 miles a day, the Fergusons found much to extol:

"We really liked the Element for this type of trip. It held all our stuff, including a large travel refrigerator. We had no second thoughts while packing—we took everything! Still had room to use the right-side front and rear seats as a bed. This proved to be very comfortable for catnaps. We would drive 12 to 15 hours a day and felt good to go every morning. Lots of legroom, front and back. Good cruise control. Nice bins on the dash, and we really liked the cubby on the ceiling. All the controls work well and make sense. The radio was super, and the 'Aux' plug allowed us to use a tape player for our books on tape. At the end of this trip, all three of us agreed that this is one fine road-trip vehicle. Drive it all day, every day for a week, and you will fall for this car. It is that good."

SUSAN MATHEWS
Amazing headroom and legroom in what looks like a small SUV. At one point, we had a guy six foot four, another guy six foot seven, and a third who is six foot nine, all in the vehicle together, and no one was lacking space.

PATRICK BEDARD
I got a major bitch with this thing. The door-catching loop atop the side opening is a head crasher when you have your head down loading things on the floor.

BEN MOERMAN
It is odd that there are two reclining levers on the front passenger seat. If someone in the back row bumps it, the guy in front falls back.

JARED GALL
The mounting of the seatbelts means that the driver and the front passenger have to unbuckle their seatbelts to let anyone into the back. If Honda would mount them to the seat as in the Chevy TrailBlazer, passengers wouldn't have to put up with that inconvenience.

PATTI MAKI
Reclined the back seats all the way to make a big bed for my big dog. And then I could slide cargo underneath the "bed" from the rear.

DAVID FERGUSON
We got comments at every stop on our trip from all age groups. The "looks" comments were 50/50, but it was almost always positive that they liked it as a Honda.

PETER FERGUSON
The cup holders are too far back and too small to hold and support the "grande" drinks. They tip over (oh, yeah, just hose 'er out).

In addition to the Fergusons' sticking a travel fridge in the cargo area, editors squeezed in plenty of other big objects, thanks to the flip-up, removable seats and the flat floor. Swan's musical significant other used the Element for band gigs; she crammed everything from a drum set to a bass in the bay and on one occasion even loaded a festive fir: "I flipped the back seats up in 15 seconds, slid in a nine-foot Christmas tree—with the trunk between the front seats—and closed the gate. Wow!"

Despite the praise, the Element wasn't faultless. Its 161 pound-feet of torque, short gearing, 56/44 front-to-rear weight distribution, and perhaps our own eagerness to plant the throttle resulted in a fearsome $285 appetite for front tires, eating up one pair of Goodyear Wrangler HPs in 12,000 miles and almost another by the 40,000-mile mark. Moreover, several staffers found the Goodyears to be harsh, noisy, and very sensitive to road surfaces—the latter a likely culprit to the rough ride on distressed pavement. Further grumbling pointed to an abrupt throttle in first gear, the lack of an armrest on the front passenger seat, and a rear end that often felt "loose" during certain maneuvers at higher speeds. The better-balanced, more-sure-footed four-wheel-drive version would likely remedy the front-driver's lack of directional stability.

Similar to two previous long-term Hondas, the Element proved thrifty at the service department. During its tenure, it required only four services—at 10,000, 20,000, 30,000, and 40,000 miles. The bill came to $323 in all, which places it between a '99 Odyssey EX's $303 (February 2000) and an '00 Insight's $374 (May 2002). Unfortunately, the cost of replacing the two tires, and one $34 repair to replace all eight rear-hatch lining clips, put the total cost at $642, more than the total charge for the two others.

As usual, we return to the track at the conclusion of our long-term tests, and this time we found the Element had lost some of its steam. With 40,000 miles on the odometer, the box now ran to 60 in 9.1 seconds and through the quarter-mile in 16.9. The only improvement came in braking, in which the Element shortened its 70-to-0 spread by 10 feet to 183. Due to a snow-covered skidpad, we were unable to obtain an end-of-test figure.

In 2003, Honda moved 67,478 Elements, significantly more than its 50,000 target. We're not surprised, seeing that everyone here fully appreciated the Element's value, functionality, and reliability. Despite a couple of minor blemishes on the repair card, the Element easily gets our wholehearted endorsem*nt.

SNOW TIRES: When winter came to town, we were hesitant to test the Goodyears' "all season" designation, particularly since there was considerable tread wear. So we slapped on a set of Pirelli's Scorpion Ice & Snow tires. Designed for SUVs, the Scorpions feature an asymmetrical tread design, circumferential grooves, plenty of lateral sipes, and a rubber compound that remains flexible at low temps. As billed, the Pirellis performed flawlessly, keeping the Element between the lines in rain, snow, and ice. The cost per tire for 215/70R-16s is $73, available at the Tire Rack (800-981-3782; www.tirerack.com).

VOICE-COMMAND DIGITAL ASSISTANT: With so many cell phones and personal digital assistants (PDAs) out there—especially with the Gen-Y crowd this SUV seeks to attract—we decided to test T-Mobile's latest Pocket PC Phone Edition ($399) equipped with Microsoft's Voice Command Software (downloadable from www.handango.com or $40). Before we could try the unit, we first had to download Microsoft's ActiveSync 3.7 (free at www.microsoft.com/downloads), which enables the PDA to download contacts, calendar info, and MP3s from a desk- or laptop. Once synced, we took the Pocket PC on the road to test its hands-free operation. We tried the interactive voice commands—dialing numbers, calendaring, and music playing (it also functions as a digital media player)—and found the device to be intuitive and accurate, at least most of the time. For instance, if we said, "Call Daniel Pund," the PDA would then inquire if we wanted his work, home, or cell number. A simple, "Home" would initiate a call to his house. Cool. However, when we tried "Call Csaba Csere" (pronounced "Chabba Chedda"), we got a confused digital reply. As of this writing, Microsoft was still working on the software's recognition of Hungarian.