Learning to love the minivan, ditching the stigma

What was once a booming market now struggles. Minivan sales have been stagnant for years, as SUVs boast improved fuel efficiency, roomier third row seating, and a more practical use of cargo space. One might think this remains a blessing, allowing us to finally rid the streets of the stereotypical “Mom Van.” I believe, however, it’s a travesty, and that a minivan can actually be fantastic – if you’re able to shed the stigma.

I, like many, was a bitter critic of the minivan. Even after I had my first daughter, I still felt it exuded a soulless existence, portraying the driver as an individual who cared not about appearance, or what others thought, and possessed an unhealthy addiction to shopping at Walmart. Who wants to be known as that?

My career, before writing about cars, was driving 230 mph IndyCars around tracks like the Indianapolis Motor Speedway. I even drove a McLaren Formula One car. I had a reputation to uphold. I wouldn’t be seen dead in a Mom Van, and I laughed at those who were.

By the time I had my second daughter, things changed somewhat. I still hated the concept of the minivan, but the vast amount of usable space seemed convenient.

Later that year, I planned to bring my whole family to a race in Kansas. The drive was around eight hours and my midsize SUV might be a tad cramped, I thought. So, we rented a minivan. My only concern, at the time, was avoiding being seen piloting the monstrosity. As it happened, I was seen, garnering much unwelcomed abuse from my peers; parking a minivan next to a Mercedes seldom looks good.

But, despite the pointing, I noticed something rather odd. I didn’t mind driving it. The van in question was a Dodge Grand Caravan. It boasted bountiful storage, a DVD player, the obligatory electric sliding doors (the single greatest invention ever), and more floor space than a Beverly Hills mansion. Plus, and this remains quite shocking, a 3.6-liter Pentastar V-6 - a motor with a sound as smooth as a Macallan 18. Like with the Macallan, that smoothness emitted a subtle bite to round off what became a rather baffling experience.

Did I really just say I enjoyed the engine in a minivan?