Because you can't get that love seat home in the Miata.

    Because getting the flag football team to the away game takes four trips in the Altima.

    Because the rabbit died. Again.

    Okay, why do you need a minivan?

    The plentitude of answers to that question is why minivans sell like Hi-C at a fly convention. Chrysler started it, GM refined it, and Toyota's finally trying to get with it. And Ford? So far, Ford's been uncharacteristically off the mark.

    The minivan boom found Ford half a wave out of sync. They already offered the Aerostar, a van too small for most commercial users and not sufficiently carlike for the newly van-starved masses. So they went to a clean sheet of paper and created the Taurus-based Windstar. It drove like a Taurus, had all the minivan amenities, and offered superior power, but arrived after the demand for first-generation minivans peaked. Then the second generation minis - the updated Chryslers and newly-competitive GMs - leapfrogged many of the Windstar's features, particularly by offering insanely popular left-side sliding doors. Driver-side access became a must-have on the family haulers, with more than 80% of minivans leaving the lot equally accessible left and right.

    With the competition selling brand-new designs and the Windstar several years from overhaul, Ford came up with the plastic surgeon's dream idea: To compete with younger models, make what you have bigger. The driver's door on the 1998 Windstar grows six inches longer from the '97, but takes only one inch more to swing open. Couple that with an easier to slide driver's seat, and you have Ford's answer to the fourth door available on other vans, at least until the Windstar can be re-engineered.
 

INSIDE & OUT

    Open the extra length driver's door, pull up that handle on the driver's seat, and the whole driver's seat slides forward on diagonal tracks forward and a bit to the left. Yes, it does ease getting to the rear. No, it's not as easy as a sliding side door, but a creative temporary fix.

    The Windstar's dash is nothing short of voluptuous. From above, it looks like a big curvy W, with the middle pointing rearward. This angles controls toward the driver, creating a little cockpit with two levels. Some things, like the radio and the climate control, are down low, angled in; above them, a shelf recesses back to the instrument panel and passenger side air vents. "Very smooth, curvy-looking console. Very, very attractive. Well integrated with the door design. Very, very attractive. First thing I noticed," pronounced the Splendid Co-Driver, somewhat redundantly.

    Instruments are the usual four: big speedometer and tachometer, with fuel level and water temperature in a binnacle on the right side.

    Overhead, one finds the other defining gadget of this Windstar, something we've never seen before: a little pop-down parabolic mirror, so you can keep your eye on the kids in the back of the van. A nice feature is that it swivels, so they can be watched by the front passenger as well as the driver. After all, shouldn't both parents be responsible?

    Also overhead, in a ridged spine that makes the roof of the Windstar look like a Klingon's nose, are a compass, with thermometer; a change holder; the now-ubiquitous sunglasses holder; and a holder for the garage door remote. Map lights on the Windstar glow through a central, clear lens, aimed across each other. The problem, of course, is that when you turn on one of the lights, the entire lens lights up, reducing night vision. We prefer better focus.

    Cruise controls on the Windstar aren't the standard Ford ones, but they're as good, which is to say they have the same tell-by-feel bumps and dips on the switches. They're added onto the steering wheel, not set in.

    Our Windstar had low-back quad bucket seats, done in heavy duty leather; front seats have a fold down arm rests for comfort on those long journeys. The driver gets electrically inflatable lumbar support. Above the seat back map pocket, the front passenger seat sports a handle to assist people coming through the sliding door. Front seatbelt anchors adjust for height.

    Two claw-type cup holders pop out from underneath the climate control and expand to hold 32-ounce drinks. Unlike some similar claws, these have a ratchet, so smaller beverages get  tight hugs, too. An ashtray nestles between the two holders.

    The Windstar follows a slightly odd practice (for a van) in having a hand operated parking brake lever to the right of the driver's seat. It leaves enough room to walk between the front seats, but seems out of place.

    Ford is papa-proud of the five-star crash test reading this vehicle got from the Insurance Institute for Highway Safety. Part of the reason for that is the longer, more anteater-like nose that this vehicle has compared to other minivans. From the driver's seat, you can't see much of that nose; you also can't tell quite where it ends. You do sit a good way back from the base of the windshield.

     But enough about the driver's seat; a van is about passengers. The Windstar's passengers live in a nicely carpeted area with the carpet in overlapping and interlocking modular pieces that can be rearranged depending upon what you do with the seats. Passengers get their own separate control on the climate control system, controlling three vents; two over the middle seat, and one over the rear, set into the ceiling. Second-seaters also have their own radio controls. A fan speed control and two jacks for headphones live to the left side of the second seat. Whoever gets the left rear seat has a pop-out cup holder; the right rear cup holder is molded into the wheel arch, with square cutouts for juice boxes. Another of those appears on the left side of the second seat. Also in the second seat, a molded armrest that flips up (to delineate Bobby's side from Sam's), and includes a rubber-bottomed compartment with 12 volt outlet to run your Game Boy. Or theirs.

    We put six people into the Windstar, and did indeed have room for a seventh. The six pronounced themselves quite comfortable, as you would expect from a van this size. The two center seats and two outside rear seats feature three point harnesses.

    Those seats popped out easily, thanks to quick-release handles, once the passengers got out of them; they don't have little wheels, but then you aren't supposed to drive them separately from the van.

    There's a good bit of room behind the Windstar's third seat; on our test van, it included a rubber mat and cargo net. Inside the rear compartment on the left is a power lock button so if the last thing you do is get something out of the back -- like you've unloaded your family and now you're unloading groceries -- you hit the button and lock the vehicle. The rear compartment features two matching panels on the sides. The one on the left is an open area for storage; the one on the right hides the jack. The SC-D compliments the fact that the panels latch in, not just snap. 'Where's the spare?', I hear you cry. It cranks down from underneath the rear cargo compartment, to keep the load floor flat, and it's a space saver.

    The long rear windows on the Windstar can be operated by a power switch from the front seat, and a casual survey of parked Windstars indicates that most people leave them flipped open when parked.

    Although the basic van shape doesn't vary much from one manufacturer to the next, I'm willing to call this a handsome vehicle. Unlike its domestic competitors, the Windstar only comes in one length, corresponding to the others' extended chassis.

    Looking at the 3.8-liter fuel-injected V-6, which has intake runners not entirely unlike the SHO, oil dipstick and oil fill are right in front of you and clearly labeled; transmission dipstick, power steering fluid, washer fluid, and radiator coolant bear labels in yellow on black so you have no ambiguity about what's what. The power distribution box, as they call it, and the battery are also very accessible. In short, while you might not want to do an engine change or even a filter change on this van, the commonly serviceable items can be easily reached. The exception is spark plugs; the front bank is not too easy to get to and we wouldn't want to work on the rear bank at all. The hood is held up by a prop rod.
 

ON THE ROAD

    It says much about the state of automotive art that we today have minivans that handle as well and ride as well as the luxury cars used to ride and as some things that they called sports cars used to handle. And this just within the brief driving memory of your humble correspondent. The Windstar drives easily and shrugs off speed bumps almost with disdain.

    You wouldn't want to autocross it; this is a somewhat unwieldy vehicle, in part because of a large turning circle, and in part because the hood is long enough -- and the rear wheels far enough in from the rear -- that you're not sure where everything is. The Windstar is closer in frontal aspect to the bygone GM APV vans than, say, the old Dodge B van, with nearly no nose to speak of.

    That said, the SC-D found it easy to "transition from a non-van to a van, nice feel, although I'm up I feel very comfortable and not like I'm driving a bulky vehicle, even though this is pretty sizeable."

    It may seem obvious, given the name, but at 70 mph, the Windstar yields only a vague hint of wind noise, coming mostly from the rear or probably from the inevitable area of turbulent flow about halfway back along the roof, but it's not obtrusive at all.

    You do notice crosswinds, though. They don't move the Windstar around like a VW or a full-sized van, and you do have to compensate for them, but the vehicle is impressively stable -- a star? -- in the wind.

    While the 3.8-liter has plenty of power if you get into it, the engine is surprisingly loud and tractorlike under load. Climbing a steep hill with six people aboard resulted in adequate performance but with some engine hammering.

    It'll slow down, too; while there's enough brake available, you have to push pretty hard to get it. While you don't get a lot of effect at first, it's not nearly as mushy or as weak as the classic GM pedal. As noted in other reviews, the Michelin XW4 radials ( here 215/70 R 15) are not particularly inspiring in the wet. The Windstar is no power-happy hot rod, but it will spin the tires quite easily.

    The long-stalked wipers do a good job of clearing all but the upper passenger side of the windshield. They can be adjusted through a range of delays.

    At night, instruments in the Windstar twinkle the uniform Ford blue, which we like. It's a little busy down among the climate control pictograms, but everything is laid out clearly and understandably. Window switches light up green.

    As a vehicle designed as a child-carrier, we can almost excuse the Windstar locking its own doors when you put it into gear. And, while we generally don't like cars doing things unbidden, it seems clever and intelligent that when you put the Windstar in reverse with the wipers on, it activates the rear wiper.

    The SC-D, having forgotten her sunglasses, complimented the Windstar's dual visors. She took half a point back for the lack of grab handles for passengers.

    Our test Windstar had an electrical intermittent in the right headlight. Still, as the only sample problem, it seems the folks at Oakville, Ontario now build them noticeably better than our 1996 Windstar that had a big gap on the instrument panel and left rear exterior molding coming off.

    In mostly local driving, the Windstar averaged just under 22 miles per gallon, on par with the EPA's 17 city/24 highway (18 and 25 with the 3.0-liter engine.)
 

SUMMING UP

    The Caravan and Voyager go for Swiss Army knife versatility. The Venture and its GM ilk go for handling and driving pleasure. Ford's Windstar is about solidity, space, and comfort. A smooth ride. And thoughtful design.

    Is it the best of the minivans? That depends on what you need one for. But even though it's not the latest, the Windstar is surely a safe choice.