The year was 1993. The automotive landscape was on the cusp of change, and families, much like mine, were navigating the practicalities of growing broods and the need for reliable, spacious transportation. Two-seater sports cars and bench-seat trucks, while charming, were no longer cutting it with a toddler and the prospect of more children on the horizon. The quest for a suitable family car began, and my initial search led me to familiar domestic brands like Ford and Dodge.
General Motors, for reasons perhaps rooted in subjective perceptions, didn’t even make the shortlist. Their offerings seemed to echo the cars of a previous generation, lacking a distinct appeal for someone looking for something fresh. While I’m sure GM had capable vehicles, the mental image conjured was a sea of generic grey and beige sedans, not inspiring the mental effort needed to differentiate them. It felt like GM was resting on its laurels, offering what they wanted to offer, not necessarily what the evolving market desired, especially for those in the mid-range segment. Memories of past automotive missteps, what some might call “Deadly Sins,” further clouded my judgment, perhaps unfairly, against exploring their lineup.
Intriguingly, imports weren’t on my radar either. In my mind, larger cars, suitable for a growing family, weren’t typically associated with import brands at our price point. This was likely an oversimplification, but perceptions often shape initial choices. Chrysler and Ford, however, seemed to be making conscious efforts to break away from the mold with models like the upsized Chrysler K-car derivatives and the Ford Taurus. These cars felt like a departure from the older, more traditional offerings, successfully differentiating themselves and appealing to families like mine. While a Ford Grand Victoria was too traditional, the Taurus held some appeal. It seemed Ford and Chrysler were tapping into the late Baby Boomer family market by consciously moving away from the “older” styles their parents might have favored.
Notably absent from my initial considerations were performance variants like the Taurus SHO or the Dodge Spirit R/T, despite a vague awareness of their capabilities. This new vehicle was primarily for my spouse, and performance wasn’t a key requirement unless she specifically desired it. My own need for speed was already satiated by a dedicated race car. Therefore, the focus shifted to practicality, reliability, and owner satisfaction. Pre-internet research was a bit more laborious back then, but I diligently gathered information, leading to an initial verdict: the Dodge Spirit. Its squared-off design and perceived space efficiency appealed to me more than the rounded lines of the Taurus, making it the frontrunner.
Image alt text: Front view of a 1993 Dodge Intrepid showcasing its distinctive “cab-forward” design, with the engine positioned ahead of the front wheels, a design that maximized interior space.
The Dodge dealership visit, arranged through a family friend who owned it, felt like entering a strategic sales environment, even with the friendly connection. Sales quotas loomed, especially for a dealership recently revived from the ashes of a previous one. The showroom, surprisingly small, housed a Dodge Viper, a captivating distraction, but our purpose was the Spirit. Upon expressing interest in the Spirit, the salesman, after a brief disappearance, suggested an alternative: the brand-new 1993 Dodge Intrepid. He touted its larger size, newer technology, and enhanced comfort. Being wary of first-year models, especially those built on novel architectures, I was initially hesitant. However, we agreed to take a look while the staff supposedly located a Spirit. In my mind, I pictured a lot attendant frantically preparing a dusty Spirit hidden at the back of the lot.
Image alt text: A slightly aged Dodge Spirit sedan parked on a street, representing the initial car model the author considered before being introduced to the Intrepid.
The 1993 Dodge Intrepid presented itself in a silver-grey hue (“Driftwood Metallic,” as I recall), complemented by a grey interior – a lot of grey. Its profile was lower than expected for a sedan, yet the interior volume was astonishing. The dashboard, dominated by plastic, embraced a “swoopy” design, devoid of any faux wood trim. The seats were generously sized and comfortable.
Image alt text: Rear three-quarter view of the 1993 Dodge Intrepid, emphasizing its long wheelbase and spacious rear end, a hallmark of its “cab-forward” architecture.
The rear seat of the 1993 Dodge Intrepid was truly remarkable. Despite a low seating position, hip and headroom were plentiful, and legroom was akin to a limousine. The doors, while wide, felt surprisingly light, a welcome contrast to the heavy doors typical of older Detroit cars. On the road, the Intrepid performed as expected for a 90s vehicle – competent and predictable. Its size was substantial, yet it handled and steered with a surprising agility, a “ponderous nimbleness” as I would describe it.
Image alt text: Interior of the 1993 Dodge Intrepid highlighting its spaciousness, column-mounted shifter which further enhanced front seat room, and comfortable cloth upholstery.
Under the hood of the 1993 Dodge Intrepid resided a longitudinally mounted engine, positioned ahead of the transmission and front wheels. This layout, a key element of its “cab-forward” design, resulted in the car’s distinctive front overhang. This design philosophy traced back to Renault, influencing AMC and subsequently the Chrysler LH platform through Chrysler’s acquisition of AMC. The lineage could be traced from the Renault 25 to the Eagle Premier and finally to the Chrysler LH series, including the Intrepid. The base engine was a pushrod 60-degree V-6, not overhead cam, but possessed characteristics similar to a straight-six, offering smooth acceleration and ample low-end torque.
Image alt text: Engine bay of the 1993 Dodge Intrepid showcasing the 60-degree V6 engine, positioned longitudinally and forward of the front axle, emphasizing the car’s unique front-wheel-drive layout.
The Dodge Spirit was quickly forgotten. We left the dealership with a glossy brochure for the 1993 Dodge Intrepid, a testament to the marketing push behind this new model. Discussions with the finance manager revealed that payments wouldn’t be significantly higher than for a Spirit, and a slight discount was offered. However, the true selling point, a strategically brilliant move, was unveiled back at the test car. Upon opening the rear door, the salesman flipped down the center rear seat cushion, revealing an integrated child seat. While not as bulky as standalone toddler seats, it was a functional, built-in child seat with proper padding and restraints. This feature sealed the deal. The practicality of accommodating multiple children, with room for two child seats and a third passenger in the middle, was undeniable. Preschool carpooling suddenly became much more manageable.
Image alt text: Close-up of the integrated child seat feature in the 1993 Dodge Intrepid’s rear seat, highlighting the innovative design that clinched the purchase decision for the young family.
The 1993 Dodge Intrepid became our family car, replacing the RX-7, and carpooling commenced. The ownership experience was largely positive, punctuated by a dramatic transmission failure on a hot summer day. While cresting a hill on the interstate, the transmission gave way spectacularly, leaving a trail of fluid and metallic debris. Fortunately, the car was still under warranty, and a replacement transmission was installed at no cost. A loaner Spirit served as temporary transportation. After seven years of generally satisfactory service, minor issues like window tracks and switchgear began to surface. With two children and a move further from school, necessitating increased carpool capacity, it was time to consider a larger vehicle once again. The 1993 Dodge Intrepid, however, had served its purpose admirably, proving to be a surprisingly spacious, innovative, and family-friendly sedan that was, in many ways, ahead of its time.
