When the Pontiac Solstice concept car burst onto the scene in 2004, it was automotive love at first sight for many, including myself. Here was a refreshingly simple, back-to-basics roadster that managed to be both modern and classically evocative. It whispered of the iconic British sports cars of the 1960s, yet it proudly wore an American badge, promising reliability, potent engines, and effective comfort features like genuinely cold air conditioning. General Motors even hinted at an accessible price point, placing it in the same ballpark as the dynamically impressive but arguably less visually striking Mazda Miata. This felt like the car many enthusiasts had been waiting for, and surprisingly, it was GM stepping up to deliver!
For a brief, shining moment of about four years, the Pontiac Solstice lived up to the hype. Then, sadly, the entire Pontiac division, along with the Solstice, became another casualty of the Great Recession. However, the Solstice didn’t go down without a fight. In its initial ten days on the market, it garnered 7,000 orders – effectively selling out its entire first year’s planned production. It even briefly outsold the Mazda Miata, the reigning champion of the sports car world in the US.
The Solstice always held a special place in my automotive admiration, though it faded somewhat into the background due to its relative rarity in my Colorado surroundings. That was until I started browsing Turo, the car-sharing platform, searching for a manual transmission sports car to rent for a scenic drive along the breathtaking Oregon Coast. A silver Solstice Gxp with bold white racing stripes appeared in the listings. It seemed like fate. Perfect.
And so, on a late July day in 2019, I found myself on a flight to Portland. Utilizing the city’s excellent public transportation, I made my way to the Solstice owner’s residence in Vancouver, Washington. And there it was, gleaming in the driveway, my chariot for the next six days. This was more than just a rental; it was an ideal opportunity to truly evaluate the Solstice GXP, to uncover its strengths, acknowledge its weaknesses, and ultimately determine if it deserved a spot on the shortlist to potentially succeed my trusty Audi TT Roadster Quattro.
The owner kindly walked me through some of the Solstice GXP’s quirks, including the operation of its convertible top. This immediately highlighted the car’s first significant drawback: with the top stowed, trunk space effectively vanished. Fortunately, I pride myself on traveling light and had only a laptop bag in tow. Had I brought a standard suitcase, it would have been relegated to the unsecured passenger area. With a travel companion, the top would likely have had to remain permanently raised – and even then, luggage might have ended up on someone’s lap!
This trunk revelation underscored just how surprisingly practical my previous and current sports cars had been. Even Goldie, my beloved 1969 MGB, offered more usable trunk space at all times, spare tire notwithstanding, plus the parcel shelf behind the seats for extra storage. The same held true for my Audi TT.
In stark contrast, the Solstice GXP offers virtually no space behind the front seats. I managed to wedge an empty reusable shopping bag back there, but that was about it. Interior storage compartments are equally scarce.
Door pockets? Forget about it. There are slim ledges on the doors, but they are realistically only capable of holding something as thin as a toothbrush.
A small bin between the seats offers minimal storage for a few small items.
Cupholders were present, at least. A feature absent in my past MGs, Porsche 944 Turbo, BMW Z3, and Alfa Romeo Spider Veloce. Being a modern American car, liquid containment was predictably addressed. Just don’t expect to fit a Big Gulp.
In fact, the retractable cupholders were so shallow that my standard 16-ounce water bottle had a tendency to eject itself during spirited driving.
The Solstice GXP does feature seat pockets. On the front of the seats! Initially, I chuckled at their seemingly limited utility.
However, they proved surprisingly useful for stowing sunglasses, a sunscreen stick, or a USB cable.
Then came the convertible top. Modern convertibles have spoiled me. Lowering the top in a Z3 or TT is a matter of releasing a latch or two and pressing a button. Even my Alfa Romeo Spider, with its design roots in the late 1960s, allowed for top-down operation from the driver’s seat with minimal effort.
The Solstice GXP’s top operation, however, requires a more involved, multi-step process that necessitates exiting the vehicle. It’s manually operated, save for an electric release for the trunk lid/tonneau cover. The full procedure unfolds as follows:
- Activate the trunk release button on the key fob. (I never located an interior button for this function). This action unlocks both the trunk lid and the side buttresses of the soft top from within the trunk lid.
- Lower the windows.
- Unlatch the center roof latch.
- Using both hands, detach the top’s header rail from the windshield frame.
- Exit the car, fully open the trunk lid/tonneau, and carefully lower the top into the trunk compartment. Often, this required walking around to the other side of the car for proper folding.
- Close the trunk lid.
- Re-enter the car and resume driving.
As the detailed top operation and storage limitations suggest, the Pontiac Solstice GXP might just be the most impractical car of the 21st century. In terms of practicality, it barely surpasses a motorcycle. It’s a textbook example of prioritizing form over function.
But what form it is!
The Solstice GXP’s design is a masterclass in evoking classic roadster aesthetics. The twin kidney grilles at the front subtly recall the MGA. The round headlights flanking the grille are a nod to countless sports cars of the 1960s. The generously rounded wheel arches echo those of an Austin Healey 3000. The sensuous curves of the fenders bring to mind some of history’s most beautiful automotive designs, like the AC Ace, a welcome contrast to the more slab-sided profile of its contemporary rival, the third-generation MX-5 Miata.
This circular theme carries into the cockpit. All gauges and controls are round, and the circular air vents bear a striking resemblance to those in my former Alfa Romeo Spider. The dashboard is cleanly designed, driver-focused, and possesses a simplistic charm akin to that of a Shelby Cobra.
Whether Franz von Holzhausen (now Tesla’s Chief of Design) and his GM design team consciously incorporated these classic design cues is almost irrelevant. What truly matters is the cohesive and distinctive design they achieved. Holzhausen’s team undeniably hit a home run; the Solstice GXP is a rolling sculpture.
Every time I parked the car and walked away, I found myself compelled to turn back and admire its beauty. In terms of sheer visual appeal, is there a more stunning car designed in the last quarter-century? Personally, I find its shape more captivating than many exotics from Ferrari, Lamborghini, or McLaren, and certainly more so than most other vehicles on the road. My Audi TT comes close, but parked next to a BMW Z3, the Solstice GXP appeared significantly fresher and more contemporary, despite my previous ownership of a Z3 and my admiration for its design in its time.
Fortunately, the Solstice GXP is far more than just a pretty face. It’s also a capable athlete, possessing both agility and speed, especially the manual-equipped GXP model I was driving.
The steering is remarkably direct, offering ample feedback and zero vagueness. Cornering is exceptionally flat, with virtually no discernible body roll, yet the ride quality remains surprisingly compliant, effectively absorbing road imperfections. If only my PT Cruiser GT had possessed such well-sorted suspension!
The five-speed manual transmission, while perhaps lacking a sixth gear for ultimate cruising refinement, was a joy to operate. The TT’s throws are shorter and quicker, but the Solstice GXP’s shifter placement is ergonomically perfect. The gear spacing and shift feel evoked memories of the Alfa Romeo Spider, albeit with shorter throws and a more conventional center console shifter.
The Solstice GXP’s engine is truly fantastic. Its 2.0-liter displacement is identical to my old Alfa’s, but thanks to direct injection, turbocharging, and other modern engine technologies, it produces double the peak horsepower – a robust 260 hp. That’s on par with a Porsche Boxster S of the same era.
The engine delivers impressive pull across the rev range. Unlike early turbocharged engines, there’s virtually no turbo lag, similar to the first-generation TT. And like the TT, its exhaust note is pleasingly sonorous, especially with the top down or windows lowered. With the top raised, the cabin becomes surprisingly quiet, and the engine note transforms, eerily mimicking… the Alfa Romeo Spider’s sewing machine-like engine sound.
Despite the potent performance, the Solstice GXP proved surprisingly fuel-efficient, averaging 31 miles per gallon throughout my Oregon Coast journey. It requires premium fuel, but the respectable mileage earns it a partial point in the practicality column.
The combination of the excellent engine, transmission, perfectly positioned pedals for heel-toe downshifting, well-engineered chassis and suspension, and communicative steering created some of the most engaging driving experiences I’ve ever had.
After a couple of days, even the somewhat elaborate seven-step top operation became less of an inconvenience. I became proficient at it, completing the process in around 30 seconds, and it almost added to the car’s character and theatrical charm. In reality, it remained significantly quicker and easier than wrestling with the notoriously leaky convertible top of an MGB, or even a modern Jeep Wrangler.
The Solstice GXP’s inherent lack of space also became less of a critical flaw. My minimalist travel habits and aversion to clutter aligned well with the car’s compact nature.
Returning to Denver International Airport and driving my Audi TT home on a summer evening with the top down, the TT felt, surprisingly, like a slight letdown – a first for me after renting a car. This was largely due to the Solstice GXP’s more intimate driving environment, lower seating position, and snug cockpit (the tall and wide transmission tunnel, contributing to the car’s excellent structural rigidity, also doubles as a comfortable armrest). In the TT, you feel like you’re perched on the car, akin to a canoe. In the Solstice GXP, you feel enveloped within the vehicle, like a white-water kayak.
The long drive home in the TT in the early morning darkness provided ample time to contemplate what exactly made me so enamored with the Solstice GXP during my week-long rental, despite its obvious practicality shortcomings.
Yes, its aesthetics are undeniably stunning. Its driving dynamics are sharp and engaging, and the engine note is delightful.
But beyond that, the Solstice GXP is refreshingly uncompromised, unapologetically focused, and even polarizing. It’s like a multi-talented individual – a yoga instructor who’s also a track athlete, dancer, and singer – who takes their time getting ready, favors stylish, form-fitting attire, isn’t keen on chores, and absolutely refuses to help move furniture, but is otherwise a genuinely sweet, fun-loving, dependable, confident, and breathtakingly gorgeous partner; easy to adore and a joy to live with.
For me, it was love at first sight and also love at last drive. The Solstice GXP has firmly secured a spot on my shortlist for a potential future roadster. And if ownership doesn’t materialize, there’s always Turo for the occasional passionate rendezvous…
Update September 11, 2022
Reader Kent LaRue appreciated this article enough to display an excerpt from it on the windshield of his 2007 Pontiac Solstice GXP at the 14th Williamsburg Invitational Car Show, Orphan Car division. Thank you, Kent!
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