Because each chapter has been published in the order the cars came into my life, it may have been difficult to keep track of their comings and goings, so let’s back out and recap. We moved in June of 1993. At that time our drivers were the ’88 Accord and the ’86 Marquis Wagon (the smaller one, like a Fairmont.) The Imperial had left our care before this and the Model A left soon after we moved, which was also right around the time The Vic (’85 Crown Vic) replaced the Marquis. It was very early in the spring of 1994 when I was finally rid of the ThunderTurd. With that, we became more-or-less normal people again with two drivers and two cars: the Accord and The Vic.
After a long distance trip (Indianapolis to Dallas to Indianapolis) with two toddlers, I became convinced that life with two sedans had become untenable, even if one of the sedans (The Vic) was reasonably large. The situation went from untenable to impossible in early 1995 when we learned that Marianne was expecting Cavanaugh kid #3. Going from a family of four to a family of five was going to require several adjustments and one of them would be with our car fleet.
By early 1995, there were two well-trod paths for vehicle upsizing to deal with a plus-size family. One of those paths was the burgeoning market in SUVs. Ford Explorers and Jeep Cherokees (Grand or otherwise) had become hot commodities. A size up required either a Tahoe or a Suburban, and those had also become quite popular. The other path was the minivan. Ever since Chrysler had popularized the category a decade earlier, minivans were everywhere. But as those of you who have followed this series have likely concluded, I am not very good at following well-trod paths.
My sister had bought a 1993 Cherokee Sport and I had ridden in a couple of Explorers. I learned a curious fact – they were roughly the same size inside as my late, lamented Fox-body Marquis Wagon (except with less cargo area in the way-back). And as commodious as the Suburban was, they were really, really expensive (as the most popular vehicles always seem to be). It was about then that I remembered back to my adolescence.
When I first met my friend Dan in the fall of 1972, is father (and my eventual car-mentor) Howard had two vehicles for their family of five – a 1971 International Travelall and a ’72 Chrysler Newport 2 door. The family owned a getaway property in Michigan and I was invited along for a weekend with them. I made six, to fill out the Travelall’s two wide bench seats. I had thought of the Travelall as a great family car, but quickly realized that nobody really liked three-abreast seating no matter how big the car was. I certainly didn’t. Howard evidently figured this out too, because the next year he traded the Travelall on a 1973 Dodge Royal Sportsman Maxiwagon. Now we were talkin’. That big Top Banana yellow-and-white 8 passenger Dodge had plenty of room. On subsequent trips we still sometimes sat three-abreast in the two rear seats, but there was room to get up and move around between seats on the move and an area for a full-sized cooler full of drinks and sandwiches. This was also the vehicle on which I learned about rolling driver changes where the cruise control held speed while the front passenger held the wheel so that driver 1 could slide out of the pilot’s seat and driver 2 could slide in and belt up. But that’s another story. The point of THIS story is that the big Dodge banana van turned me into a Van Guy.
By 1994, there was a really wide choice in minivans. Many still had that trait that, had I been a vampire, would have been as repellent to me as silver crosses dipped in garlic: the combo of a 4 cylinder engine and an automatic transmission. Larger minivans were seeing V6 power more frequently by then, but I noticed another curious thing – minivans and big vans cost the same for any given level of trim and equipment. Do you see the recurring theme? On a per-pound basis, there was no beating the value of a full-sized van. I decided right there that since I had become a grown-up and all, I was now entitled to own that ultimate 1970’s Dad-mobile.
I did not want a custom or conversion van, which was the only kind found at dealers in any numbers at all. I wanted the high-trim passenger van right from the factory, reminiscent of Howard’s ’73 Dodge. I tried hard to find the Royal Sportsman’s 1995 equivalent, but that was impossible. Chrysler had stubbornly refused to bring its B series passenger van much out of the 1970’s, and creature comforts were at a minimum. I actually found one at an area dealer – a dark green Ram Wagon, high trim “SLT”, and with a 360 V8.
I went so far as to bring it home on a test drive to make sure it wasn’t too tall to fit in my garage – and it wasn’t. It was a delight to drive, every bit as taut in its structure as I remembered, and the 360 was lovely. Sadly, the inside was a total fail. Marianne has always been a practical girl, but I could tell as she looked around the van’s insides that her willingness to be practical only went so far. The thing that killed that deal was that only 2 of the 6 rear seat passengers got 3-point seat belts. Yes, I was the guy who had driven a Model A with a tyke in Mom’s unbelted lap, but this was different. I expected to get many years and many miles out of our next vehicle, and I had been sobered by the experience of the collision in the Colt.
I will confess that I never really looked at a Chevy/GMC. I had driven a couple of them back in my days of summer jobs. I found them unpleasant and rattly. I will admit that old prejudices bubbled to the surface, but there was nothing compelling enough about the GM van to make me consider buying one. The Ford, however, was another matter. Ford had always been the leader in selling vans with all the creature comforts. I had driven several of them and, other than their somewhat willowy structures (compared with the Dodges) they were a good solution. What’s more, Ford had done a thorough updating of the E series van in 1992, making it the only really modern entrant in the category.
Our van, the day we bought it, stopping to show it off at Grandma’s house.
One day in March of 1995 I was driving past a local Ford dealer (yes, the same one that had overcharged me on the Crown Vic’s water pump) and saw something that made me turn in. In their used car lot were TWO (count ’em) late model Ford Club Wagons in Chateau trim. Both were one-year-old 1994 models. Both had the frosty mocha lower paint and mocha interiors. One was metallic red and had the 5.0/302 while the other was emerald green and was powered by the 5.8/351. As soon as time allowed I took Marianne there and we drove one. Where she had been very guarded about the Dodge we had tried, she was all in for one of these, given the luxurious interiors that generated surprise and delight for almost anyone who ever rode in it.
An interior virtually identical to the one in our van. It was a lovely place to spend time – except when cleaning up after an occasional barfing child. More than once during such a clean-up I threatened to trade it on a van with rubber floors and vinyl seats.
In a rare alignment of the planets, the one that was equipped with the engine I wanted was also painted the color we preferred. Having spent far too many hours in the sluggish Vic, I was ready for the big engine, and both of us liked the green paint. Actually, this was the first used car since my ’77 New Yorker that was equipped, painted and trimmed almost exactly how I would have spec’d it out had I been buying it new as a special order. It lacked some of the “truck” options (like the hitch bumper and the sliding side door) but carried virtually every other option from the catalog.
Yes, Marianne was excited about it, but I wanted to be sure. We all know that there are few things worse than spousal remorse when Hubby is too quick on the draw when choosing a vehicle. So, just to be safe I took her to a Mopar dealer and we drove a new ’95 Grand Voyagavan (I can no longer remember if the dealer sign was red or blue). After the drive, she asked if we could look at the extended version. I saw her face when I said “this IS the extended version,” I knew right then that I would soon own a big, big van. And I was also reminded that I had picked the right girl.
The transaction for the van was not at all like it was when I had bought the used Marquis wagon. This time, I really, really wanted this van. Not one like this, but this very, actual one. It was essentially one of a kind, a thing the law calls sui generis. And not only did I want this van more than the salesman needed to sell it, I had a Crown Vic with freshly changed oil (therefore a minimum of anti-freeze in it) that I needed to get rid of. Let’s just say that the payments were a lot higher than the $50-something a month when I signed the papers on the Marquis. But on the other hand, this was the nicest, most expensive vehicle I had ever owned. Everyone was happy.
We would own the Club Wagon for the next eleven years. It had 20k on it at purchase and about 165k when we were through with it. Overall, there were more plusses than minuses in that time. The electronic shifting on the E4OD transmission was the polar opposite of that on the herky-jerky AOD in the Vic, with the torque converter lockup now coming at higher speed, well after the 2-3 shift. And the added servings of torque from the tailshaft of the 351 made it one of the most pleasant powertrains I have owned. I was less enthralled with the 3:55 axle that Ford mated to all vans with the 5.8 L engine, but I lived with it. This van had the tightest MPG range of anything I have ever owned. Until the last couple of years when age and miles were catching up to it, I never got under 12 mpg and I never got over 16, no matter the terrain, load or style of driving. But gas was cheap so filling the 35 gallon tank was not traumatic.
It was the opposite of the Vic in another way – it became the best trip-and-vacation car in the history of the world. Right after kiddo #3 was born, our eldest was drafted to be a ring bearer for my brother’s wedding in Pennsylvania. Along with me were Son No. 1 and my sister’s family of four, We filled out the six seats and everyone traveled in supreme comfort. And once back, three kids in child seats was no problem at all, with plenty of room for more.
I felt really smug when I looked at the creative packing people had to do in their Suburbans when the rear seat was up, and we became quite undisciplined in our packing habits. When it came time to haul stuff, the load area was cavernous. Other than wrestling seats that seemed to weigh about as much as I did, the process to turn the cargo area from cavernous to infinity (and beyond) wasn’t bad. But the van’s main duty was hauling kids. Lots and lots of kids. Carpools, Cub Scouts, Brownies, sports teams, movie matinees and sleepovers, it didn’t matter because the big Ford delivered. Literally.
This van also took care of us during a tough time after our daughter had been diagnosed with a nasty hearing loss. That hearing loss eventually led to the need for a cochlear implant, which was done at a university clinic in Champaign, Illinois, and we made many trips there and back until Indianapolis caught up to a level of care we were happy with. The big green machine did its job during that stressful time, and that daughter has now completed college and gotten married to start the love-marriage-family cycle anew.
This was, without doubt, the best snow car I have ever owned. It weighed about 5,000 pounds, and had plenty of weight over the rear wheels, especially with passengers. The combination of ABS brakes, the limited slip differential, high ground clearance and the light truck radial tires with a fairly open tread pattern allowed the big Clubber to power through almost any weather conditions that didn’t call for something with tracks instead of wheels. I have always maintained that a well-balanced RWD vehicle was just fine in snow country, and this one proved me right.
But our Clubbing life was not without issues. Almost immediately I discovered (by setting off the alarm multiple times) that there was no power lock actuator in the rear door. Warranty. The lower ball joints wore out. Warranty. The upper ball joints were replaced after warranty in a compromise where I paid either parts or labor only, I forget. All 4 Ford ball joints would be replaced once more by the time we hit 80k, but through the modern miracle of grease fittings we had no trouble with them after that. This was the first year of R-134 a/c refrigerant, and the system struggled to cool the big hot box in city driving, even with rear air and a warranty compressor replacement. We also did a fuel pump – the good indy mechanic I finally found never let me forget how not-fun it was to remove that 35 gallon tank when the pump failed right after a fill-up. Let’s see, what else. A radiator. And we had the torque converter rebuilt due to some chatter/shudder. The radio quit and started draining the battery – fixed by a factory replacement from eBay.
Front brakes and tires were never really long-lived items, and I lost track of the number of pads and rotors we went through. Tires were the same way. I eventually concluded that the van may have had more than its indicated 20k miles at purchase. This van and the other one in the lot had been owned by the dealer since new as part of a rental sideline. I got a printout of the service history and saw two or three complaints about the cruse control not working and no problem found – which I read somewhere could have been a side-effect of disconnecting the odometer. Or maybe our service woes were just the typical U.S. car experience by then. The good news was that the factory exhaust system stayed with us for the life of the van. Really, the first 80k (60k put on by us) brought more problems than we should have seen, but the second 80k was pretty uneventful. OK, other than the need to replace the rusty coolant lines that fed the rear heater core. And the vacuum actuator for the rear heat/ac control that seemed to break at 40k mile intervals.
One problem that was not the van’s fault came from the way we parked it. The van almost always shared a standard-width garage with a series of other cars in varying states of wide-ness. We coped by snuggling the driver’s side up to the garage wall, then doing all entries/exits aircraft style through the rear passenger doors. The van was equipped with six individual reading lights in the ceiling that were turned on by tilting them. Or by bumping them with a coat hood or a backpack when getting out of the van. And the combination of the darkly tinted windows and the placement of the garage door light prevented us from noticing the shining reading light until Marianne would call me the next morning asking me to come home to jump-start the van. Fortunately, by that time my office was just a mile or two away from home. Damn kids.
In the winter of 2006 the a/c compressor seized when I turned on the defroster. Which was pretty dramatic. The van was getting old, but I sucked it up and paid for a replacement. We had replaced so much that I figured surely we were in for another good stretch of trouble-free miles. Besides, I had become really attached to that van. It was another one of those vehicles that really fit me, both physically and emotionally, and I was successful in deflecting the occasional mentions (with increasing frequency) that perhaps it was time for a new car. There was plenty to justify paying the periodic repairs, like the way the 351 never seemed to use a single drop of oil during the entire time we owned it.
But finally, two things happened that made the van a short-timer with us. First, the van started randomly shifting into neutral. I took it to a transmission shop (over the objections of Marianne, who was tiring of these periodic “investments”). It was – – – the differential. Huh? A gear tooth had broken off and it snapped off a piece of a “reluctor” wheel, a spinning thing that fed data to the vehicle speed sensor. There was also a second vehicle speed sensor input and the poor processor for the electronically-controlled transmission started getting conflicting data between the good one and the damaged one. The result was that the transmission would periodically throw up its hands and say “OK Bub, just what the hell do you want me to do?” and would sit in neutral with its arms crossed until it decided to stop sulking and go back to work after 10 or 20 seconds. I was actually really impressed that the transmission shop had been able to come up with the diagnosis which did not involve rebuilding the transmission. But the van was going to need either a rebuild or a swap-out of the differential to fix that one.
The second thing that happened was that it was the summer of 2006 and gas prices had shot up to $4/gallon. I told Marianne about the need to either rebuild or replace the rear diff and she put her foot down – that was it, I. T. IT. We were not putting any more money in that van. We kept it until we bought a replacement, and by then it had become “my car”. Other than the occasional terror from its shifting into neutral at 70 mph on the highway with traffic on my tail, I still loved the way it drove. We ended up donating it to St. Vincent DePaul, with full disclosure on the need for a used diff to make it right, because beyond that it was still a really good car. And tell me again how my distrust of vehicle electronics that screw up a perfectly functional car is irrational.
The Club Wagon is another vehicle that I look back on with real fondness. I loved driving it and I loved the comfort and the sense of self-sufficiency that it brought us. It took us from the beginnings of a family of five up to the oldest getting ready to start high school. Honestly, I would have loved another 4 or 5 years out of it, and hindsight tells me that I should have just parked it and taken my time looking for a good used differential. But we did not do that. That may be the one vehicle that made me the saddest when it left our lives. It was the one used vehicle I owned that was EXACTLY what I wanted when we got it. And unlike the old New Yorker that had been close on that score, this one made me happy while driving it. And more than just its characteristics as a car, I associated it with my favorite parts of being a Dad.
The big Clubber left us with one other legacy: To this day, my children automatically head for the passenger side when we all go to get into a car. So many years without a rear door on the drivers side has hardwired them to avoid such a door on virtually every other vehicle in the world.
The big Ford’s replacement would be with us for quite a long time too, but would be about as far in concept from the Club Wagon as it was possible to get.
Nice van, I’ve always liked those. But those nagging little problem most late model rigs is annoying. Even Honda and Toyota aren’t immune to it. But the Japanese are masters at sweeping things under the rug before anybody notices.
These certainly are the ultimate family travel vehicle, but I didn’t know any families that used one as a daily driver for family use. We grew up in a family of six and always had station wagons, but my dad did consider trading our full size wagon on a new G-series van after a numerous cramped long family trips. Having 3 in the front, 3 in the back and the cargo area jammed to the roof didn’t make for the most comfortable multi-day family trips. In the end it didn’t happen as my parents split up not long after he had the idea.
While there was a brief period when van ownership intrigued me, it never was more than a fleeting though. I instead went for the Suburban, and owned a ’93, so the same era as your van. I loved that truck, maybe not quite as roomy as a van, but it was reliable and tough as nails, awesome in the snow for a non 4×4 (mine was RWD), very versatile, and comfortable. Two areas where I thought the Suburban was superior to the vans were in serviceability and driving manners. I never really cared for the driving characteristics of the Ford E-series vans.
These Ford Club Wagon Chateau vans were much nicer on the inside than the GM and Dodge competition at the time. A good friend of man was a van enthusiast and I helped him go van shopping around the late 90s early 2000s. We looked at at a lightly used Ford Club Wagon Chateau, maybe about a ’97 as it had the 5.4L engine. It was quite luxurious on the inside. In the end, both he and I preferred the way the Chev Express vans drove over the Club Wagons, so he ended up buying a brand new loaded Express, which was quite a let down in the interior appointments. He was ultimately fine with that as it was to be mostly used for his business and to pull a large travel trailer, which the Chevy did well for many years.
The service history of your van seems pretty typical of a domestic truck/van of that era. It’s too bad this is the case, because many of the 90s domestic trucks and vans were great – when they worked. I am not surprised you liked the E4OD over the AOD, as it was utilized conventional operation, and did not have the goofy split torque and direct drive lockup of the AOD (more on that later this week). The E4OD certainly didn’t have a stellar reliability record, despite it being based on the bulletproof C6, but it eventually evolved into the 4R100 which had most of the bugs worked out.
You are right that nothing else compared for interior appointments among the small number of big domestic vans of the early to mid 90s. It was 1997 when Ford’s decontenting drive hit these. That was the same year the 5.4 replaced the older 5.8 and also the year they went to that uglified grille with the odd chrome oval in the top section. Lots of small features went away that year, like the rear seat that would convert to a bed that covered the entire cargo area and the luxurious seats with the red piping in the upholstery.
My transmission started a chatter or rumble when the torque converter tried locking up – this was probably around 80k miles. The transmission shop I went to said the basic transmission was fine but it was the torque converters that caused the problems they saw. They said that there was not enough fluid pressure getting to the converter clutch. They recommended a modification where they drilled a hole in a specific place (I forget where) which would rectify that problem. The tradeoff was that the shift to reverse took a touch longer to engage, but I never had trouble with the unit after that.
So many thoughts here…
When we were looking for a van in 2010, I would have greatly preferred a factory passenger version such as yours. They are very nice, but rare. We found a couple, but they were of the GM variety having all vinyl, bench seats throughout, and a V6. Hard pass.
Yes, a van this size will create all manner of random packing and non-consideration for room as there is no need to worry about such trivial matters. Going to Denver back in January, we just tossed stuff in – and tossed in a bit more for good measure. If we downgraded to a minivan, that would be a harsh adjustment.
From looking at pictures, I also suspect yours had more usable cargo room in the back with the seats still in place as the seats themselves appear to be a tad more closely spaced.
Speaking of snow, I mean Denver, our Econoline has only seen snow once – when in Denver earlier this year. It was a non-issue. Now I know what to expect based upon your experience.
Overall, I am surprised yours had as many hiccups as it did with the ancillary stuff. I have replaced all the ball joints and fuel pump (at 18 years old) on ours, along with the drag-link and the seal between the driveshaft and differential. I just had the rear brakes replaced despite there still being plenty of material on the shoes as all the hardware was still original (now 23 years old) and I opted to not run any risks.
There have been a few chapters I’ve really been anticipating and this was one of them. It would be great to have driven yours with the 5.8 back-to-back with mine having the 5.4 to see how / if they differed.
You are right that these things were always rare. Ford put a lot of effort into these, but everyone was buying Suburbans instead. In our grade school pickup line there might have been one other like ours but I lost count of the number of Suburbans. The conversion vans tended to be bought by grandparents by then and I don’t really recall any of them owned by school families.
You are also right that there was more cargo room in back. The seats were closer together than in your conversion van, but I never heard any complaints about legroom.
The 5.8 reminded me a lot of the old 390 – It was not really a revver and wasn’t objectively a powerhouse (210 bhp at 3600 rpm, only 15 hp over the 5.0), but was a torque maker that felt really strong right off idle. The rating of 325 ft lbs @ 2800 rpm was a big jump over the 5.0, and not too far below the famed 7.3 diesel (that was 360 @ 1400).
I think as time went on Ford kept perfecting these and the later ones were much better. I don’t think they ever fully solved the front tire wear thing, though.
Re Conversion Vans: The ones I was familiar with were really tacky and generally reflected poor taste. I think this sort of gave all vans, even the really nice factory versions, a poor reputation.
I can relate on many levels. In 1992, our third came along, almost ten years after #2. The ’85 Cherokee, which had been fine with two, was now out of the question. I only considered minivans, as Stephanie probably would have felt intimidated by a full size van; she just doesn’t like big vehicles. But who knows?
I wanted a Previa, for its presumed reliability (They turned out to be the ultimate bullet-proof tanks), but Stephanie didn’t like it, in part because she wanted enough cargo area behind the third seat to the large Italian pram we had. Yes…
So it had to be a Chrysler, and we bought a ’92 GC, and boy was that pricey. $22k for an LE, but it was fairly loaded. I had driven a friend’s and I was impressed at how it drove; very not like a truck. That was a big selling point.
We had it for 18 years and 170k miles. Outside of the three replacement transmissions (warranty) and several of those suicidal ABS pumps (lifetime warranty) it was very reliable.I replaced the radiator. But other than that, I’m struggling to think of any other issues.
As to the feeling of “self sufficiency” of a big van, I am writing this from the Promaster in Port Orford, where it has served as our temporary home until the garage-turned-into-cabin is finished, which it almost is. We’ll start staying in it after one more trip.
I absolutely love the Promaster. Absolutely zero issues in almost 6 years; I just replaced the tires at 44k miles. That and a few oil changes, nothing else.
Driving around the country with all the basic comforts and necessities of home while getting 20 mpg is…liberating. We have not paid for a single night of lodging since we got it, and maybe only a handful of camping fees, since we always boondock unless it’s just not possible (inside a National Park, for example).
My only regret is that we didn’t buy a camping van back in the day when we had kids. We bought the ’77 Chinook in 2002, so our youngest took a lot of great tripos in it, but I wish we had done that back in the ’80s. Vans are one of the greatest things on wheels.
By the time I was looking in early 1995 the two price points for almost all vans was around $24k for a nice mid-level trim and $29-30 for the top models. Even the little 4 cylinder Honda Odyssey with the hinged doors was at those price levels. I got ours at 1 year old for $20k, which seemed like a pretty good savings.
I have wondered how we would have fared with a Grand Caravan or Voyager like most other people had. We probably would have done just fine, and who knows maybe even come out better from a service perspective – had we bought a new one it would have been the very last year of the 2nd gen.
Your Promaster takes the plusses of a big van to the next level, for sure. Ours was never set up for camping, but with that rear bench that folded out into a full bed, two of us could have slept in it fairly comfortably even with all the seats in. But Marianne is NOT a camper and when our boys were in scouts all the camping was done in tents.
Glad the Promaster is doing so well. I have a feeling Stephanie would have loved the Previa even with the smaller rear area. We’ve had three (one Previa and two JDM Estlmas), all used with high miles, and other than a starter going out on one which I think was an anomaly, they were problem-free – just oil changes.
They had their limitations and compromises – but bulletproof reliability overrode them all…just like with JP’s Chateau, I look back on them with fondness and admiration.
I had a 15 passenger one ton (titled as a bus in PA). I pulled a 32 foot travel trailer with it and it was the perfect combination to keep the tail from wagging the dog but it decided to puke a water pump on the interstate somewhere between Nashville and Memphis. I always carried an assortment of tools for minor repairs but changing a water pump sandwiched between to edge of the interstate and the guard rail with nothing more than hand tools is an experience that will make a believer out of you. A 460 in a van is like ten pounds in a five pound bag.
You make so many good points here. First, your analysis of how pound for pound there was so much more value in a full-size van than a minivan. This overall highlights what was always my beef with the minivan that I owned (a V6 awd Chrysler), and that is how despite all of its bulk and overall expense, it really lacked the cargo-hauling prowess that I needed from something that size. While a standard passenger van was probably off the table during that time in my family life, it would have indeed been a much more practical vehicle…as you clearly found.
One of the reasons I was always given as to why a full-sized van “wouldn’t work” was that like a rwd truck, it would be “terrible in snow”. I always expected otherwise, given the weight of the cabin over the rear wheels, and it looks like you proved that as well. I too have always felt that a well-balanced RWD vehicle (with proper tires in the winter) will do as well in the snow as a FWD vehicle. I prove that every winter with my RWD wagon daily driver…something that many people still say that I’m “nuts” for driving. As I watch them slide all over the road.
The only family I know that still pilots a full-size passenger van (a Ford) is a local family of 10 (including parents). Their household size as well as their vehicle do make them stand out a bit here in the land of crossovers and european sedans, but I think that they’ve found what you found, when you have more than 4 to haul around, a big van fits the bill. I’ve called on these folks more than once to help move particularly gigantic things. Between the vehicle and many young hands, It’s like being on good terms with a moving company.
The really big families at our school had vans, but they tended to be the 12 or 15 passenger versions that were much more utilitarian inside. I have seen some passenger versions of the big Ford Transit – I just looked at Ford’s website and they seem to seat 15 and have a base price that cracks $50k. Zowie.
I think my biggest gripe with the configuration of mine (or a tradeoff, really) was that it only seated 7, and unless #7 was a kid, was only really great for 6. The lower trim versions with 2 benches could accommodate 8 and I lost count of the number of times that the 8th seat belt would have been useful.
I have joked that that van cost me a lot of money because of the things we could carry home in it. Like the time Marianne bought one of those circular department store clothing racks for our basement when a store was having a fixture sale. I did not have the “how could we ever get it home?” excuse. 🙂
Another good point. Enough things like department store fixtures have wound up at my house even without the transport capacity of a full-sized van or truck. I shudder to think of what this place would look like if it was easier to move stuff here.
I like the Chateau versions of these Ford vans, as they are extremely nice inside and carry none of the negatives sometimes associated with conversion vans. I can see why you jumped on the one equipped as you wanted, as they were rare even when new.
My personal experience with these is limited to airport shuttles, plus one particularly memorable experience. Around 1994, I spent a week in Chile for work and my group of 5-6 people was chauffeured around in a brand new Ford Club wagon in Chateau trim, with few, if any differences from the versions sold in the U.S. We drove all over the sprawling Santiago metropolitan area and from there to the resort city of Vina Del Mar and the industrial port of Valparaiso. In all, over 4-5 days, the Club Wagon proved very comfortable and roomy for all. Other than perhaps a modern M-B bus, it’s hard to think of any other vehicle that would have performed as well.
You remind me that the “Chateau” name lasted as the high-end model for decades. I think Ford started using it by the very early 70’s, if not before. I think they finally got rid of the name some time in the late 90s. Once shortly after we got it, I was showing it to some family. A cousin’s wife asked why it was called Chateau. My cousin’s response was the best I ever heard. He said “Because it’s the size of an average house in Switzerland.”
“Chateau” goes back at least to 1968; I’m not sure if it was used on the earlier mid-engine passenger vans. You really had to go up to the top-line Chateau to get a van that was trimmed like a typical car inside; even the mid-level Custom had rubber floor mats rather than a carpet (base models didn’t even have that, just a painted metal floor). They really started to get nice with the 1975 redesign that allowed most of the engine to be under the hood rather than between the front seats. This is the family car I wanted to have as a kid, with my own a/c vent on the left side panel and my own reading light, plus room to walk around. A few neighbors and friends’ families had full-size passenger vans in the ’70s. Detroit lost interest in these after minivans became available and SUVs became popular family cars. I recall Ford tried to buck the trend in the 2000s with the E-150 Traveler aimed at families rather than commercial or airport-shuttle use, but it didn’t catch on. I’d want mine equipped like yours except I’d insist on the sliding door, especially if I had a garage. I don’t get why these have become rare on full-size vans; they were the most common in the late ’70s and early ’80s which is why they migrated to minivans. Chevrolet didn’t even offer hinged side doors for many years.
I remember the E-150 Traveler from some ads in Scouting Magazine around 2000 or so. I remember thinking that maybe these were finally going to get some traction in the market again, but that turned out to be another small niche vehicle.
Really, the interior appointments on mine had me really spoiled so that everything that came after 1996 seemed dumbed-down and cheapened. I seem to remember that the Traveler might have featured leather inside, but it covered a much less elaborate seat design.
I’ve been waiting for this! After getting a brand new car, possibly the only vehicle I have enough of a crush on to consider the used car world again.
My attachment to these is like yours with the Dodges. And those are blatantly archaic, even the last ones with a modern dashboard.
For a time the occasional really clean one of these showed up for sale after longtime elderly owners moved on, but by now you almost have to search EBay or something similar to find one.
Around the time I got mine someone a few streets away in my neighborhood bought a Dodge Ram Wagon that I always looked at a little longingly. I think they still have it, though it sits outside and is looking fairly ratty these days. But even now I wonder how much they would want and how much it would take to clean up and get it back on the road. Yeah, I know.
In 1998, I was shopping for a used Aerostar & my car guru tried to convince me that a full size Econoline was a better value. Not having kids, I wasn’t quite buying it and stuck with the minivan, but clearly you are not alone on that one.
A decade ago, I worked for a taxi company that had an assortment of 12 or 15 passenger vans. If I remember correctly, the consensus was that the ideal van would be the Dodge body with the GM running gear & the Ford interior.
I think the taxi company consensus might have hit on a pretty good combination with that mix.
I have been involved in a couple of cases over the years involving the 15 passenger vans used by universities. When those things are full of passengers, the center of gravity moves up really, really high and those things get very tippy. An inexperienced driver who makes a sudden swerve on a highway can be in for a nasty surprise.
Supposedly the GM’s at least lengthened the wheelbase instead of just lengthening the body.
Nonetheless, my college replaced its mix of 15 passenger GM’s/Dodge’s with 12 passenger Fords. Win-win.
The third child really does seem to be the “tipping point” for a lot of things – including choice of vehicle.
Out of the Big Three, Ford seemed to do the most to keep its big vans current. Chrysler was obviously focused on the success of its minivans, which ruled the roost of that segment in those days.
For years at the Harrisburg Auto Show, the local Ford and Chevrolet dealers had a special section devoted specifically to their high-end conversion vans. They were quite pricey, but they did have an audience.
Some dealers around here stocked a half dozen conversion vans at any given time.
I was always a little tempted at one of the Dodge dealers.
Interestingly, I don’t remember any full-size Dodge vans serving as the basis for a conversion. The Ford or Chevrolet vans were used for conversions.
I can’t speak to the heavier Club Wagons but a 351 powered Econoline could be very quick. The rental yard I worked at had an 89 E350 window van van with a 351 HO V8 and I think a 4.10 rear axle, plus the 1 ton suspension left it with a distinct stance. Running light that van could launch hard and surprise IROC-Z drivers and when we used it for delivery it could haul a 7500lb Bobcat as comfortably as the 6.9 diesel powered F-350 dually we normally used for that. Granted it was hard riding empty and filling those dual tanks was expensive even in 1990 but it was a great tool for the job.