Chevrolet Cavalier
It's not hard to see why the Chevrolet Cavalier&emdash;along with
its Pontiac Sunfire twin&emdash;has been the best-selling car in
Canada for eight years in a row. You get a lot more car, nicely
packaged, for your money; more than anything else in this price
class.
My $18,615 tester, done up in an attractive metallic green, was
optioned out exactly like the nation's number-one selling car, with a
cassette player, body-colour mouldings, and a four speed automatic
transmission with traction control. It lacked any power gadgets and
remote control doodads, but was bigger and more spacious than any of
its similarly priced compact competitors.
No doubt much of the Cavalier's popularity also has to do with its
intelligent design, which inside and out is endowed with nice touches
that are surprising in such an inexpensive car. The windshield-washer
jets are on the wipers instead of on the hood, and their spray hits
the windshield right away, without having to fly through turbulence.
There's a shift-position indicator tucked into the instrument
cluster, much like in cars that cost thousands more; the (albeit
tiny) map pockets are carpeted&emdash;to keep their contents from
rattling&emdash;just like those in Audi's $60,000 A6.
This car's interior is one of GM's best efforts, with a low,
swoopy, almost Honda-like dash, good-quality plastics, and attractive
color combinations. All of the controls, from the turn signal stalks
to the radio knobs, are chunky and easily operable. Only the
weirdly-placed cigarette lighter&emdash;which is right near the
ignition key, and actually in the place the key ought to
go&emdash;and the toothbrushy material shrouding the shift and
handbrake levers mar the interior ambiance. (The Cavalier's Sunfire
cousin has many of the same nice touches, but I find its puffy,
bulbous dash and bilious red backlighting far inferior to the Cav's
elegant, intelligent interior.)
Comfort is generally good, though the rear bench mimics the kind
you'd find in a park, with a board-like backrest and a low, flat
cushion. Headroom is generous, especially in back, and visibility out
the windows is excellent. Good thing, because the tiny mirrors are
almost useless. They're of the fold-away type, though&emdash;a nice
touch.
Fitted with a 2.2-litre, 115-horsepower engine, my test Cavalier
felt lively around town, with quick steering and decent acceleration.
The automatic shifts smoothly and intelligently. On the highway, it
has plenty of passing power, and feels more stable than most of its
smaller competitors (VW's Golf being the prime exception), though
crosswinds blow it around a fair bit. The ride is smooth, and the
suspension soaks up big bumps easily.
Hustled around corners, the Cavalier leans a lot, and the low-rent
Goodyear Conquest tires start howling early. A 15-inch wheel/tire
combo, with excellent BFGoodrich tires, is a bargain at $170.
The entire car's running gear has a gritty quality that makes it
feel like it's working hard, even when going slow. Everything from
the engine's noise under full throttle, to the brake pedal, through
to the groaning steering rack, felt like it was grinding through a
thin layer of sand that'd been stuffed in at the factory. Everything
here works, but the slickness that I've become used to in import
compacts is missing.
Still, you'd pay a lot more for an import of comparable size and
space, and apex-strafing isn't this car's mission. The Cavalier's
abundant space, its cool design touches, as well as its unparalleled
popularity, are more than enough to elevate it to the top of any
small-car buyer's list.