By Christopher A. Sawyer
The Virtual Driver

(December 25, 2014) The day before we headed out from Detroit to Clifton, Va., for Thanksgiving, the winds in Michigan were gusting to 60 mph and above, with sustained winds in the 20-35 mph range. In the driveway sat — or, more accurately, given its height — stood a 148-inch wheelbase Ford Transit 250 High Roof.

My late father and a few of my brothers may have known the basics of sailing, but I do not. Yet all I could imagine, as we placed our cargo in the back as the drizzle fell, was that I would spend at least 10 hours on the road chasing the Transit as the winds pushed it about.

The reason we took the Transit was simple: earlier in the year my friend had found a pair of etageres (glorified shelving units if you ask me) at a garage sale; they would go perfectly with her sister’s minimalist Chinese interior design aesthetic (though made of steel, the units resemble bamboo). Getting them from Michigan to Virginia would be a problem, however, as they stood eight-feet tall.

This time, a Transit Connect wouldn’t do it. We would need to call on the Connect’s big brother, and the only one available for cargo duty was a long wheelbase, high-roof model with two seats, one for the driver and one for the passenger. I imagined myself to be the lowest paid UPS driver in the world, and did not look forward to wrestling this beast across Ohio, Pennsylvania, into Maryland and on to Virginia prior to the holiday. It would be noisy, underpowered, thirsty and God knows what else. It certainly would not be enjoyable.

Or so I thought.

When they dropped the Transit off that Monday morning, it towered over the lease VW Jetta and the sometimes off/sometimes on/sometimes almost up for sale second restoration project that sits under a car cover in the driveway, a 1969 Ford Cortina.

Someone had the good sense to order the Transit in Tuxedo Black instead of repairman white, and this color played well against the black (non-body color) bumpers and hub caps. The Transit looked oddly elegant, like an oversize workman wearing unadorned formal wear. I muttered a quiet “Thank you, God” when I noticed that this was not the extended version with its large rear overhang. That's because the last thing I needed was another couple of feet hanging out back when trying to maneuver this leviathan.

A quick walk-around showed that the fuel filler is located just behind the driver’s door, and it is necessary to open the door in order to open the fuel filler flap. That’s a nice idea, and a lot more convenient than the same arrangement on the first-generation Transit Connect. On that minivan you have to unlock the fuel filler flap and hood with the ignition key.

A quick look inside showed a two-tone gray interior with cloth seats, minimal insulation on the cargo box walls, and a rugged vinyl mat to protect the floor. The doors swing out to 90 degrees, and can be unlocked from their guide arms to fold against the body sides. And the sliding side door (you can order one for each side, if you wish) didn’t take Herculean strength to operate. It also had the only side window, other than those in the two front doors, on the whole truck.

The Power Stroke badge on the left rear door alerted me to the fact that a turbocharged 3.2-liter inline five-cylinder diesel was driving the rear wheels. It should return decent fuel mileage, I thought, but would it have the guts necessary to climb the hills and keep up with traffic?

Loading the interior was, as the English like to say, a doddle. The etageres were placed on the left-hand side of the cargo bay with three boxes containing the heavy glass shelves, 12 in total, in-between. Off-white vinyl mats were placed between the etageres and the boxes to provide that extra bit of cushioning that gigantic multi-ply sheets of packing paper couldn’t, and bungee cords lightly held it all to the D-rings along the Transit’s floor.

In the rear, an eight-foot Christmas tree was laid in two four-foot pieces, leaving ample room for luggage, four 12-packs of Diet Vernors (hard to get in Virginia), two crates with smaller items, and a rather regal looking light-up reindeer. He was the star of the show.

It was 5:30 the next morning when I gingerly backed the packed Transit out of the driveway, and headed toward the main road, careful not to run into any of the many real deer that populate this area and congregate like adolescents in a convenience store parking lot.

The rearview camera — which sends its image to the small monitor above the center stack’s keypad — let you see what is behind you, but a larger monitor would have been better. The tall side mirrors with their lower blind spot sections do the bulk of the work; the monitor only providing affirmation or warning of what is directly behind.

As we started out I felt cramped behind the wheel, as though my body had been folded up and placed in a narrow but extremely tall box. It took a minute to realize that it was necessary to raise the seat well up in order to trade horizontal for vertical space. In no time I had a commanding view of the road, ample leg room, good under thigh support and an ergonomically correct relationship with the controls.

Overhead there was a storage area for paperwork and other items, while the center stack held a USB port and a place to park the iPod. However, when looking through the rearview mirror I had an immediate understanding of why buyers of the split-window Corvette didn’t like that feature at the time. The edges of the doors cut off the view directly behind, but you get used to it after a while and compensate by shifting your head this slightly left or right to see who or what is in this area.



The winds had died down overnight, making the drive less stressful than expected, and we traveled south toward Ohio where we would pick up the turnpike and shuttle across the state. Shuffle might have been a better word as I expected the Transit to be a vehicle that would not set any records on the Michigan to Virginia run. Nor did I expect it to be overly frugal, a supposition that I began to question when we first stopped for a rest break and fuel.

A quick calculation showed the Transit had returned 22 mpg. A better idea of the Transit’s fuel economy would come with the next stop, as it would involve pure highway driving and fill ups by the same person to approximately the same level. Meanwhile, the people in the rest stop were pointing and laughing at the reindeer in the back as, each time the LED interior lights came on, the semi-clear plastic tubing covering his body glowed a bright white. I began to wonder if he wasn’t covered in fiber optic cable the way this covering absorbed and transmitted light. We were the hit of the car park, especially since the reindeer was clearly visible in the side door window when the interior lights were on, and he was at or above the level of most of the vehicles around him.

Despite not being even one quarter of the way into the trip, it was possible to start forming some conclusions about the high-roof Transit. First, the side mirrors are your best friends, especially the lower blind spot mirrors. When you adjust the upper mirrors properly, these little beauties show you who, if anyone, is alongside before you change lanes. They also do the bulk of the work when reversing as they show how close you are to the objects around you.

Second, the six speakers need to be rethought. Up front, there are one in each door and one in each A-pillar trim panel. However, the next pair are w-a-y in the back in the door trim panels were the sound is easily blocked by the cargo you are carrying. This placement might make more sense on a passenger version, but for vans like this one, it’d be better to place the rear pair just behind the front seats.

Third, the 3.2-liter turbo-diesel has a good bit of grunt, and the Transit doesn’t have to keep right and let the world pass it by.

Fourth, as long as you make an accommodation for the long wheelbase by squaring off corners slightly, the Transit is surprisingly maneuverable. Though the front slopes away, it is easy to determine where the front corners are, especially if you prudently leave a bit of a fudge factor in your calculations. Shopping mall parking lots are a bit of a bother, but those with wider aisles, like the ones at rest stops, give more than enough room to swing out on the arc necessary to clear the cars to either side of you.

Fifth, the Transit doesn’t get sucked in and blown back by the aerodynamic “wash” as it passes semis on the road.

Sixth, the number pad layout used on the center stack takes a bit of getting used to. Like MyFord Touch, perhaps Ford will rethink this layout for something simpler. Seventh, you can feel a slight loss in power when the diesel particulate filter regenerates, but the warning in the gauge cluster allays your fears and disappears quickly as the power returns. And, finally, it was surprising how many people drove in close proximity to the Transit and looked, pointed and took pictures as we made our way east, and west. Perhaps they were looking for “Antique Archaeology” decals on the side, though I don’t look like Mike Wolfe and my friend (thankfully) looks nothing like Frank Fritz.

As the miles racked up, so did the increase in fuel economy. Never letting the tank run much below half full, we filled up consistently, and saw mileage rise from 22 to nearly 26 mpg. Given the sheer size of the Transit, which has a frontal area approaching that of a small condo complex, the numbers were astounding.

Also surprising was how easily it climbed its way through Pennsylvania, and handled the many curves — both uphill and down — along the way. Most amazing of all was the admonishment from the right front seat to slow down as we traveled one curvy, downhill section, and seeing the speedometer click past a number that, when the individual digits are added together, equals 13.

We arrived in Clifton less than 10 hours after we set out; a good time considering how many leisurely stops we had made along the way. Beltway traffic wasn’t the hassle I had expected, helped — in large part — by the low-end torque of the turbo-diesel engine and swift, smooth six-speed automatic transmission. Granted, I wasn’t going to be leaping from lane to lane but, when openings did appear, it was possible to grab them quickly.

After an enjoyable Thanksgiving and a four-day stay, it was time to head back with our return cargo of three large, wireframe orbs and a trio of cement planters; hardly enough to worry so large a van as this. We had gotten snow the night we arrived, and temperatures remained in the upper 30s/lower 40s. Eastern Virginians were elated to see the white stuff, though I worried about the effect it might have on the ride home.

At one point, while heading through Maryland, we were traveling downhill and crossing a bridge in the middle of a corner when we hit a small patch of ice. The nose slid wide, but the tail tracked true, and it was all over before there was any thought of reacting. Also, the entire trip through Ohio was done with high winds that buffeted the Transit, and greatly increased the wind noise. Despite my fears five days earlier that I might have to “sail” the Transit to Virginia, the winds had little effect on the van. It wasn’t the white-knuckle experience I had expected.

Perhaps the best summation I can make of my time with the high-roof Transit was that I didn’t want to see it go. It’s not that I suddenly want to cast aside cars for glorified delivery vehicles, but that the Transit is a capable, frugal, extremely commodious vehicle with a wonderful personality. Together these elements combine to make this a vehicle you want to drive not one that you have to drive.

The driver’s side outside mirror should be adjusted so that vehicles approaching from the left rear merge seamlessly from the rearview mirror in the cabin to the outside mirror when you are looking straight ahead. Also, the right-hand outside mirror should be set such that you can just see the side of the vehicle when you are leaned over toward the centerline of the interior, not when you are sitting as you would when driving.

This mirror placement is the same no matter what type of car or light truck you are diving, and will give you the best view around your vehicle.

The Virtual Driver