Honda has pretty much dared everyone to do this comparison. If it had called its new hybrid two-seater the Insight Coupe or the H2S or the EI-EI-O, then maybe those of the thick-headed persuasion would never thought of comparing the 2011 Honda CR-Z with a 1987 Honda CRX Si.

But no, Honda went and called its new car "CR-Z" (it stands for "Compact Renaissance Zero," the corporate product planners tell us), so we're all comparing it to the CRX in our minds if not in sheet metal. So Honda, don't whine. You asked for it.


If the CR-Z comes up short, don't blame us. Instead blame all those engineers working at Honda back in the early 1980s, some of them now up in senior management, many of them retired and a few dead. They're the ones who did such a spectacular job with the original Civic CRX. Because it is a car with a magical luster that hasn't faded with time.

Back to Simple
In 1976 Honda adopted one of the greatest ad slogans ever chiseled out of an agency flack's brain: "We Make It Simple." These four words perfectly summarized the guiding principles of Honda's design philosophy back when the Honda Accord was brand-new and the company still had to prove itself in the American market. This was back when people bought Hondas because they were, in fact, simple and exquisitely engineered. And even though Honda stopped using "We Make It Simple" as a slogan way back in 1982, a lot of people still believe that's what Honda is all about. Or, at least, is supposed to be all about.

The Honda Civic was due for a generational change with the 1984 model year, but the CRX was an unexpected addition to the line. "Honda's all-new Civic CRX 1.5 suggests the term 'Rollerskate GT' because," wrote Kevin Smith for Motor Trend upon first encountering it, "walking up to it for the first time you may think it's easier to strap it to your feet than to climb into; it truly looks like a toy."

Almost 27 years later, we approach Chris Hoffman's well-preserved and well-used 1987 CRX Si and it still seems inconceivably small. At just 144.7 inches long, this first-generation Honda CRX is 0.9 inch shorter overall than a 2010 Mini Cooper, while its 86.8-inch wheelbase is an amazing 10.3 inches shorter than the BMW-engineered Mini. More pertinently, the CRX is a staggering 15.9 inches shorter overall than the new CR-Z, while its wheelbase is 9.1 inches shorter.

The Style of No Style
But it's not just the Honda CRX's super-dink proportions that differentiate it from its hybrid grandkid. The CRX's body is almost unadorned; the flat body panels are clean and free of styling flourishes. This unfussiness lets the CRX's slope-backed profile become the visual focal point of the car. The CR-Z's visual firepower, on the other hand, lies in details like the character lines that run along its flanks, around the beautifully shaped rear taillights and across the rear glass panel.

There's a real cigarette lighter next to a real ashtray for those precious moments with a menthol 100.
Where the CR-Z fails stylewise, is in its flat and busy nose. It's too flat (thanks for the pedestrian impact standards, EU!) and over-decorated with a massive grille. The big, heavily sculpted holes beneath the headlights contain driving lights that look as if they were pulled from a parts bin as an afterthought. With the old CRX you have to work hard to even find the grille. And while the CRX's driving lights might as well be stuck on the front of the car with Elmer's Glue-All, they're as square as the headlights at least.

Of course there are design elements to the CRX that are archaic. The 14-inch wheels with four round holes in them are pure retro from the Huey Lewis era, the mud flaps look like they're off a Kenworth big rig and the marker lights in the front fender are just arbitrary. But overall, the CRX is still a sweet little package. And it's still a great-looking car — timeless, really.

The CR-Z isn't likely to age that well.

Interior Simplicity
Both the CRX and CR-Z do a great job of accommodating two people and more of their stuff than you might think possible. There are some style and convenience differences, however. And they matter.

Of course the CRX was built back in those bloody, gore-splattered, awful days when airbags weren't a mandated element of every car. So when you face the steering wheel, the dashboard seems almost barren. Still, however, every control is at the driver's fingertips. There's a nice cubby with a hinged lid atop the dash in which to accumulate change for the tollway (back when tollways didn't require folding money), and there's a real cigarette lighter next to a real ashtray for those precious moments that can only be completed by firing up a Benson & Hedges Menthol 100.


The CRX's harshly trapezoidal dash cover over the instrumentation looks dated; the orange-on-black numerals of the instrumentation was a bad idea back then and still is; the slider-based ventilation controls aren't as convenient as dials; and both the seats and door panels are covered in mouse fur. But these are just decorator issues. The driving position is low, but perfect. The seats are nicely shaped. And any single-DIN radio will slide right in.

The CR-Z innards are, yes, better than the CRX's. The seats are better, there are more storage areas strewn around the cockpit and the navigation system is an improvement over any single-DIN radio. Yes, the instrumentation is a bit too Tokyo pop, but otherwise the CR-Z interior is a great driving environment.

Nevertheless, once you throw some airbags into the CRX, round off the dash angles, redesign the instrumentation graphics, add power windows and mirrors and upholster everything in contemporary materials, this interior would be among the best offered in any small car today.

Driving Simplicity
According to Honda's factory specifications, the 1987 Honda CRX weighed 1,830 pounds with a full tank of fuel, which makes it 824 pounds lighter than the CR-Z EX. The math says this means every one of the CRX Si's 91 horses has to move 20.1 pounds of vehicle mass. Each of the CR-Z EX's 122 horses has to contend with 21.8 pounds of heft. Virtually all the measurable performance differences between the two cars can be explained in light of those numbers.

In deference to Chris Hoffman's CRX Si's age and 108,500 miles, we're using performance numbers generated by Motor Trend in its issue of March 1985, which featured coverage of the 1985 Honda CRX Si. The CRX galloped to 60 mph in 8.1 seconds (with 1 foot of rollout like on a drag strip) and ripped through the quarter-mile in 16.2 seconds at 84.5 mph. That's not terrible performance today, and it was terrific performance for back then. Faster than the Mitsubishi Mirage Turbo, Pontiac Fiero V6 and Toyota MR2, the editors noted.

These acceleration numbers, however, don't tell the whole performance story of the CRX Si. Its punk-spec, fuel-injected SOHC 12-valve 1.5-liter inline-4 might predate the introduction of VTEC variable valve timing, but it's still a rev-happy twerp. Throw in the precise shifting of the five-speed transmission and the result is still a blast to drive. It's not just good in a vintage way; it's good in every way.


In contrast, the CR-Z is simply more of a chore to drive. First, the driver needs to pick a driving mode — Econ, Normal or Sport — and then it's a matter of tuning oneself to drive within that mode. A soft touch for the Econ, a moderate touch for Normal and moderately harder touch for Sport. The CR-Z demands more attention than the CRX.

Like the original CRX Si, the CR-Z has a fuel-injected SOHC 1.5-liter inline-4, and thanks to 16 valves and i-VTEC it makes 113 horsepower on its own. Combine it with Honda's Integrated Motor Assist (IMA) hybrid system and the output goes up to 122 hp. And in Sport mode, there's actually some low-end torque to play with.

At full throttle the CR-Z performs the same no matter what mode it's in. And that performance is a trip to 60 mph in 8.8 seconds (8.5 seconds with 1 foot of rollout) and 16.5 seconds at 84.1 mph for the quarter-mile. If you engage the traction and stability control system (technology the CRX Si conspicuously lacks), you get to 60 mph in 9.4 seconds (9.1 seconds with 1 foot of rollout) and reach the quarter-mile in 17.1 seconds at 82.9 mph.

The CR-Z's six-speed shifts great and the entire hybrid drivetrain is refined, but it's not as quick as the old CRX Si. And yes, that's even after taking into account Motor Trend's aggressive weather corrections and timing methods in 1985.

Simple Life, Simple Pleasures
Set up right on aggressive tires, an old CRX is a monster in autocross events. But even wearing the modest 185/60R14s that Chris Hoffman's car does, the CRX Si is a precise driving instrument from the tip of its manual steering to the trailing edge of its rear beam axle.

In comparison, the CR-Z really is one of the very best-driving hybrids to go on sale in America. But it can't duplicate the direct connection between car and driver that the CRX provides. The CR-Z does have a more compliant and controlled ride than the CRX, but it's nowhere near as much fun.

But also keep this in mind. While we all remember the CRX for its extraordinary fuel mileage, this is because of the special, low-performance, fuel-sipping CRX HF. Back in 1987 the EPA rated the Honda CRX HF at an incredible 52 mpg in the city and 57 mpg on the highway. But once you calculate the CRX's numbers with the latest EPA methodology, its results drop to 42 mpg and 51 mpg, respectively. The 1987 CRX Si, on the other hand, carried a sticker showing an EPA-certified 30 mpg in the city and 33 mpg on the highway, which converts to 26 mpg in the city and 30 on the highway today. The legend of the hyper-parsimonious CRX is at least somewhat conditional.

But the bigger, heavier 2011 Honda CR-Z six-speed carries an EPA rating of 31 mpg in the city and 37 on the highway. While other hybrids do better, the CR-Z actually does very well in the context of its ancestors.

A Simple Summary
As we've discovered here in this 1987 Honda CRX Si, the CRX Si in its first- and second-generation forms remains among the most lovable cars that Honda has ever produced. And if Honda produced something directly equivalent to them today — as lightweight and with just as delightful a powertrain — we'd all want one.

But that's not what Honda offers us. Times have changed, and the 2011 Honda CR-Z shows us that modern standards of safety and comfort have taken their toll on the size and weight of small cars, even as improved structural rigidity and electronically enhanced engines, brakes and vehicle control systems have made them better for everyday transportation.

Yet what Honda offers in the CR-Z isn't that bad at all.

http://www.insideline.com/features/1...-civic-si.html



1998 Acura Integra Type R vs. 2010 Honda Civic Si

Revenge of the Acura Integra Type R

By John Pearley Huffman, Contributor | Published Feb 23, 2010



It's a time capsule Inside Line could drive and test. A perfectly preserved 1998 Acura Integra Type R with just 5,400 miles showing on its odometer and new car smell still wafting through its interior. Recently disinterred from somewhere deep in the climate-controlled bowels of American Honda's Torrance, California, headquarters, it's undamaged, unmodified, unmolested and almost flawless. And it's quite likely the nicest Integra Type R left on Earth.

We beat the snot out of it.

By now, virtually all its brother Type Rs have been ruined with stupid modifications, stolen, salvaged and ruined again. But this one is hermetically sealed-in-a-mayonnaise-jar-underneath-Funk-&-Wagnalls-front-porch awesome. Except for the fresh oil in the Type R crankcase, it's pure 1998.

It was an Acura service-training vehicle and, until Acura decided to sell it earlier this year, it was never titled. When it was made available to American Honda employees for purchase, more than 100 of them signed up for the privilege of buying it. Gary Robinson, an old friend and the new head of Acura Public Relations, won the lottery. And then he made the mistake of mentioning his purchase to us over lunch.

Heck, we'd have settled for a whip around the block. But he let us test it and put a couple hundred miles on its barely used odo. And for some contemporary context, we also borrowed a 2010 Honda Civic Si coupe equipped with Honda's "FP" Factory Performance parts.

The Type R is still the performance standard against which all other small cars must be judged.

This isn't a comparison test in the traditional sense simply because comparing a new car to one that's more than a decade old is just plain stupid, but comparisons are inevitable.

All of us who drove an Integra Type R back then (it made it to America in the 1997 model year) still remember it as the best-handling front-drive car ever built. But memories are fuzzy, fungible things created in the crucible of their moments.

The questions are: Has the Type R's moment passed? And just how far has Honda small car performance come since Bill Clinton was smoking cigars in the Oval Office?

We decided to find out.

One Change, Just One
For safety's sake, Inside Line ordered up a new set of tires for the Type R before testing. The car's spooky preservation meant the original Bridgestone Potenza RE010 were still wrapped around the white wheels. That's fine for museum display, but 12-year-old tires dry out and one of our goals was to survive the test.

Unfortunately, Bridgestone doesn't offer the RE010 in the Type R's dinky 195/55R15 size anymore, so Tire Rack recommended the Dunlop Direzza Sport Z1 Star Spec as the closest substitute. Like the RE010, Tire Rack classifies the Z1 Star Spec as an "Extreme Performance Summer" tire and it's both the highest rated tire of its type by Tire Rack customers and the best seller in its category. We asked Tire Rack to shave 3/32nds of tread off the new Dunlops to simulate the break-in miles that we couldn't put on them.

That Tire Rack was able to not only shave the tires but get them to us in just two days is dang near a miracle of logistics.

Old School Done Right
By 21st-century standards, the Integra Type R is hopelessly archaic. Forget the dinky, body-color wheels. Look at how thin those A-pillars are — no airbags in there. That cowl barely comes up to your knees, the steering wheel has dorky horn buttons on its spokes, the radio head unit is pure Pep Boys and the slider-based ventilation controls would look at home in a '48 Ford.

But there are plenty of elements to the Integra design that made us nostalgic. The instrumentation is all in one single, easily scanned pod directly in front of the driver, the front seats mold well to any body, the shifter is perfectly positioned and feels directly connected to the five-speed transmission, and that low cowl means lots of greenhouse glass for better visibility. Yeah, the tall deck spoiler knocks out a bunch of rearward vision, but the Integra otherwise remains a paragon of ergonomic virtue.

And with the Civic Si parked next to it, the Integra looks absolutely tiny. The Integra's 172.4-inch overall length, 101.3-inch wheelbase and 51.9-inch height are all 3.1 inches shorter than the Civic coupe's dimensions. At 66.7 inches wide, it's 2.2 inches slimmer than the Honda. On Inside Line's scales, the Type R weighed in at a svelte 2,598 pounds — 270 pounds less than the Civic Si.

So the Civic Si is a full NFL defensive end — say, Jared Allen of the Vikings — heavier than the Integra.

Hard-Core Hardware
It had been almost nine years since anyone at Inside Line had driven a stock Integra Type R, but once inside it was love again at first sit. There never have been many cars as closely tailored as the Integra Type R and there are fewer of them now than there were then. Compared to today's thickly insulated tubs, getting into an old Integra is almost like swinging your leg over a motorcycle or mounting a horse. You feel somehow exposed, as if the doors weren't there at all.

Turn the key — and it's a real bare key — and the Type R's hand-massaged 1.8-liter B18C5 engine rocks to life. Sound deadening had been stripped from the Type R to cut weight, and sometimes the engine sounds like it's revving in your lap. Rated at 195 horsepower, it's down a mere two ponies from the 2.0-liter K-series power plant in the Civic Si. And it makes that 195 hp at a wailing 8,000 rpm — 400 rpm short of its redline. This car is unquiet in the best possible way.

Getting to that 8,400 means tipping into the accelerator pedal, and that means reliving the sensation of a real mechanical throttle cable. This isn't a pedal hooked up to a rheostat that's sending a signal to some computer, but rather a thick steel cord that works against a spring on a throttle body. It's an honest difference you feel in your big toe. And it's a sensation we all miss.

More Hard-Core Hardware
There's never been a better front-drive shifter than the Integra Type R's and it's just as good as we had remembered it. The gates are distinct, the effort is light and the shifter movement is instinctive. You mold your hand to the shifter so you can feel all the mechanical bits whirring away in the engine bay through it.

This thing might have a license plate on it, but it has the personality of racecar. And its direct mechanical connection with the driver is made even more special by the abundance of electronically disconnected machines sold today.

The Type R's engine produces virtually no low-end torque. And even at its 7,500 rpm torque peak, it's only making 130 pound-feet of twist. It wasn't built to go drag racing. It was made for the driver who knows how to keep an engine boiling while squirting from corner to corner.

By any measure, the Civic Si's bigger, 197-hp engine is more civilized and better composed than the Type R's. Its idle is less raucous, it builds engine speed with less vibration and it's much quieter at its 8,000-rpm redline than the Type R is at its redline. What they have in common is that distinct moment when the VTEC variable valve timing system kicks in and engine speed gets frantic. Despite the Si's great exhaust note, its engine simply doesn't invite the involvement the Type R's does.

Hard-Core Driving
The Type R's steering is taut and the front tires feel sutured to the pavement. Some of this is due to the double-wishbone front suspension that was once every Honda's most distinctive engineering feature. More of it is due to the lightweight wheels and tires and mechanical power steering.

The Civic Si's steering ratio, at 13.62:1, is actually quicker than the Type R's 16.1:1 rack-and-pinion, but it's numbed by the electric power steering system to which it's attached and the heavy 18-inch wheels this car was wearing. It's nonetheless very good. It just pales in comparison to the old Type R.

In fact, on the slalom course the Civic Si bit into the pavement with better initial turn-in than the Type R. That's likely a function of its slightly wider (215/40ZR18) Dunlop SP Sport tires and quicker steering. Both cars have a helical limited-slip differential working for them through the corners. But the Type R's chassis offers more feedback and much better manners.

The Civic Si is fast through the slalom at 69.7 mph with the stability control turned off. The old Integra Type R, however, is absolutely scalding. With no stability control to turn off, it blasted through the slalom at a stunning 71.8 mph. That's just a little bit better than the last Porsche Boxster S we tested and it's more than 3 mph faster than a 2010 Camaro SS. Some exotics and the Corvette ZR1 will beat it through the slalom, but not much else.

More Hard-Core Driving
Throw in 0.92g of stick on the skid pad (the Civic Si only managed 0.88g) and the Type R rises to the very top rank of performance cars. This is the best-handling front-drive car Inside Line has ever tested — it just happens to be 12 years old.

The Integra also outstopped the Civic, despite its tiny 15-inch wheels and tires and much smaller 9.5-inch-diameter front brake rotors (the Civic's measure 11.8 inches). The Type R stopped in an astonishingly short 110 feet from 60 mph; that's 14 feet shorter than the Honda could manage.

The Type R kicked its *** at the drag strip, too. The Integra's 6.8-second 0-60-mph clocking and 14.9 seconds at 95.2 mph quarter-mile performance also handily beat the Civic Si's 7.5-second 0-60 time and 15.4 seconds at 92.5 mph bests. That's almost all due to the extra weight the Civic is lugging around.

Yes, the Integra Type R will buzz annoyingly on the freeway. Naturally the suspension is balanced more for performance than comfort. Of course the Civic Si is an easier car to live with every day in virtually every way. But the Type R is still the performance standard against which all other small cars must be judged.

The Acura of Acuras
There's simply nothing in the current Acura lineup that comes close to being as mechanically engaging as the Integra Type R (or the late, great NSX, for that matter). All-wheel drive, silken V6 engines and computer controls are still poor substitutes for a perfectly tuned chassis, a spellbinding engine and a direct connection between driver and car. When the Integra Type R was new, it was the embodiment of everything we all hoped Acura would be.

If Acura ever decides to go searching for its soul, it's downstairs in Gary Robinson's parking spot.