I was going to do a post about the second-generation Mitsubishi Chariot. Honest, I was. It hasn’t been covered on CC, really – North American readers might know it as the Expo, folks in other parts of the world may have encountered these as the Space Wagon – and I guess it deserves its fifteen minutes of CC fame. But as luck would have it, I found one that had these improbable fender mirrors. And now, that’s literally all I can see on this damn thing.
Lightning quick history, just to get our bearings: these 7-seaters replaced the original Chariot / Space Wagon in May 1991. On the JDM, only the 2-litre Sirius 4-cyl. was available, but tother markets could get smaller variants of it. It was available with either a 5-speed manual or a 4-speed auto driving only the front wheels or all four. Our feature car is an early-model AWD manual trans MX, i.e. the top of the line.
OK, so on with the main event. What’s the deal with that pair of fat antennae on the front end? Who thought that was a good idea? Not Mitsubishi, most probably. With a sloping hood and a high seating position, devising fender mirrors is a recipe for an aesthetic disaster.
Not much to say about the interior. The best seats are in the back, anyway. And this is too early a model to feature the odd and fun “Chrystal Light Roof Specification” – essentially a slightly domed translucid top – or any of the other cool stuff these could be optioned with (especially the high trim versions) later in the production run, which lasted until 1997.
Perhaps the original owner, disappointed by the lack of optional extras available on his swanky new Chariot, ticked the one box he shouldn’t have – the one that said “gargantuan vertical wing-mounted mirrors.” People did that on occasion well into the 2000s, even though they were no longer mandated by law from 1983 onwards.
But that was usually done on larger saloons. I’ve seen them on the odd Toyota Crown. Or on this Corona I wrote up a while back (above), for instance. Some folks were obviously incapable of letting go of the old-style mirrors. Most taxis still sport them to this day, and certain chauffeur-driven cars (e.g. Toyota Century) kept them well beyond 1983, but the overwhelming majority of standard-issue cars switched to door mirrors and never looked back (har har).
They look slightly off on those cars too, but on the Chariot, they’re just next-level weird. I’m sure the Mitsu Chariot mark 2 will have its proper CC someday. But this particular one will not do. Sorry, Space Wagon, those appendages make you look too alien to be taken seriously.
Related posts:
Junkyard Classic: 1993 Eagle Summit DL Wagon – Soaring No More, by Jim Klein
Cohort Classic: 1993-1996 Eagle Summit – Not To Americans’ Taste, by PN
I never understood how you could make out what you were looking at in small mirrors that far away.
This is the funniest thing I have seen. I somehow cannot see myself parading around my neighbourhood proudly showing off my new dr spook mirror car
A design accessory that only a snail could approve of.
I learned to drive with this style of mirrors with my family’s European delivery Volvo 122S which was picked up in the UK. I don’t remember much about them other than the fact that adjustment was a pain, requiring a wrench (probably Whitworth) and one needed to make sure they were clean before getting behind the wheel. But with them so far away, adjustment wasn’t critical as the viewing angle change wasn’t noticeable with different size drivers or seat locations. Plus, uncommon for that era, there was one on the passenger side too. They stayed on the car for the 22 years it was in our family; I wonder if the new owner changed them.
Mitsubishi was in early on the crossover boom with this vehicle and the slightly shorter 3-door variant with a sliding rear side door on the passenger side only. Mitsubishi failed to capitalize on this though, discontinuing the Chariot et al just as the Toyota RAV4 and its ilk were gaining steam. (Why does seemingly every Mitsubishi go by about five different names across the globe? This one is a Chariot, Space Wagon, Expo, Eagle Vista, Colt Vista, plus some Hyundai rebrands depending on where you are in the world. At least the insect-antennae mirrors are left off most of them.
I can only relate to this in that my 1960 Chevy Impala had mirrors installed on the front fenders, though not as far toward the front of the car as these ones. It seemed like a good idea, and moved them to a place where the wraparound windshield and A pillars didn’t get in the way… but in practice, it feels like trying to watch TV on a smartphone that’s four feet away from you.
I only really remember the Mitsubishi Expo from hearing the engines seemingly detonating any time the vehicle was accelerating. The Nissan Axxess vans did the same thing, even worse. Montana’s palming off of 85-85.5 octane fuel as regular grade unleaded in that era might be partially to blame for this.
Now, could anybody imagine a GM Dustbuster van with these kind of mirrors?
Looking at the old Corona the fender mirrors vanish as fast as the undersize wheel tyre sets after they landed here.
Do my mirrors look big in this? No, no. But your car looks tiny.
Putting aside the issue of the Mirrors-Designed-to-See-Over-the-Cars-Behind – insofar as one can, and without spending time wondering as to why such an innovation was thought relevant – these were respectable conveyances in reality. Here, their nomenclature was named after water vapours, namely, the name Nimbus.
I’ve motored along in a Cloud of Unknowing in a few of these, though that cloud generally grew behind the things as the mileage rose and the Mitsubishi within revealed itself like a new pope, in a puff of white smoke. They were not at all bad things to drive (the Nimbi, not the Popes, haven’t tried one of them, too hard to steer).
None left now, as far as I can tell. Requiescat in pace (again, the Nimbi, not the Popes, they renew those).