A duplicate to my PT Cruiser. Painted bumpers and silver painted alloy wheels created a monochromatic effect.
The early 2000’s were an odd time to be alive. The first real sustained stock market drop and economic reversal since the 1980’s, the first real aging-out and retirement time for early Baby Boomers, and two things that really jolted peoples’ psyches, the 2000 Presidential election, contested, with “hanging chads” (which now sounds like some sort of rude band name), and the September 11, 2001 attack.
In the midst of all of this, cars had generally become very generic and interchangeable. One could go off with Vipers or various Porsches, but for the somewhat to fully affordable daily drivers, the available pool of cars had gotten very broad, but perhaps not deep with distinctive choices. Perhaps the advent of seriously looking backward for automotive styling inspiration was intensified by the traumas of the early 2000s?
The idea of hanging evocative backward-looking bodywork onto otherwise ordinary mechanicals showed up again and again, beginning with smaller exercises in the 1990s. By the first decade of the 2000s, various manufacturers delved through their own prior work (and, in some cases, the prior work of others), to come up with cars completely devoted to aping that prior work, either generically or specifically.
Auto manufacturers have looked backwards for decades. Recall the original Mustang styling cues consciously applied to the exterior of the 1974 Mustang II. Later, in the 1990s, Ford more successfully incorporated shapes and elements of the old fastback Mustang into its then-contemporary offering of the car. The first Miata of 1989 appeared to be a rework of the original Lotus Elan. Large 1990s Chevrolets consciously incorporated styling elements (and some branding) of the older large Chevys. One could argue that Lincoln, Cadillac, and Buick had been backwards looking in their styling details and branding for decades with some of their offerings, never quite letting go of a few of the cues, long past the “stale date” for any buyers under a certain age. The 1994 Dodge pickups aped the front fender arches of the old Power Wagons, in some vague way. Jeep just kept making Jeeps that looked like the old ones, more or less, and continues to do so to this day.
The “new” Mini. A more successful “retro” styling exercise, that remains in production all these years later.
Roughly the first decade of the 2000s witnessed the first real “end-to-end” copies, or modern interpretations, of obsolete, but beloved, old cars. We had the “new” Beetle, the “new” Mini, a modern 1955 Thunderbird, and a later iteration of a roughly 1950 Chevy Suburban or panel truck. Stretching things a bit, there was the weird hot-rod Plymouth Prowler thing, and a convertible modern 1950ish hot-rod Chevy pickup. A bit later came the new Mustang, Camaro, and Challenger, straight-up modern interpretations of old pony car designs. Like movie remakes or modern recordings of old songs, our cars began ploughing old territory, rather than striking out in new directions (this is not entirely true, witness the Nissan Cube and the Kia Soul with its hamster ads, but they were not marketed to Baby Boomers, but rather to younger generations).
An early 2000s iteration of a fifties T-Bird. So many of these “retro” cars came and went, in the early years of the 2000s.
Among the most prominent, creative, and complete workovers of the era was the PT Cruiser. It was one of those cars, like the redone Mini, that went from zero to everywhere in a matter of months. While most manufacturers mined their own history for inspiration, Chrysler actually modeled their throwback design after a 1937 Ford. An argument can be made that the ‘37 was the least attractive of a long string of beautiful Fords from the Model A through the early ‘40s, before World War 2 stopped production, but the ‘37 is what Chrysler chose to go with. Perhaps the tall and stubby mien of the ‘37 Ford was needed to properly flesh out the proportions of the PT into something recognizable. Or that the ‘37 was not as obviously a Ford as were many others, so that the theft was less obvious or offensive. Perhaps Chrysler wanted to make sure people didn’t think of the Airflows of the ‘30s, considered by many a design error, even though some of the shapes and elements of the PT could look a bit Airflowesque, if one squinted very hard. Make it semi-obviously a Ford, and that problem was headed off before it ever got going. Chrysler actually did quite a bit of nice design work of its own in the ‘30s. Not particularly distinctive, but handsome.
1937 Ford. It is generally accepted that this car served as the inspiration for the PT Cruiser. The lack of rake definitely changes things.
From a packaging standpoint, there were all sorts of constraints combined with open avenues to try new things. Like the PT or not, it represented a very creative piece of work, in various disparate ways. The willingness to “go there”, to do something that was novel in so many ways, and actually take it into production, may represent some sort of high-point in taking chances, that we may not see again from a car company with significant Detroit DNA in it. Keep in mind that Chrysler was coming off of a hugely successful and sustained gain in market share from what was essentially a bold design exercise on its full size pickups. They had also hit a solid double with their LH “Cab Forward” sedans, which demonstrated design and engineering moxie that was well respected, even if sales and public reputation were solid but not spectacular. “Going for it” had reaped rewards, so Chrysler “went for it” with the PT.
The car was roughly based on a Neon-sized platform, with a Neon-based powerplant. The Neon itself had been another Chrysler project that added heft to their product catalog. It was, again, a double rather than a home-run, but it gave form to the underlying mechanicals of the PT, and it showed that Chrysler was actually capable of offering a contender in all sorts of different target markets, if they chose to go there. So Chrysler had a mechanical starting point to work from, and they definitely had the confidence to go out there and try some things.
Low in the front, high in the back. Playing visual games with a basic box of a car.
The PT was actually engineered to be categorized as a small truck, due to a redesign of the rear suspension to enable a flat, low floor in the back. The minutiae of various dimensional and capacity definitions and arrangements allowed the truck designation, legally, which offered some slack on things such as fleet fuel economy requirements (more “trucks” in the mix allowed a lower overall “fleet” fuel economy requirement). The small PT engine raised the overall Chrysler average vehicle fuel economy, even as the PT “truck” designation lowered the target. Quite a clever “two-fer” for Chrysler. And because the car sold well, the calculations were enough to meaningfully move the needles (so to speak).
Let’s get to the car itself. It looks distinctive, and, initially, at least, oddly attractive and cute (at least to me). As it became, over time, more of a car seen as owned by poorer Middle America middle-agers, and as a platform for questionable flamed paint jobs or di-noc “woody” exercises, the bloom came off the rose a bit. Unlike, say, the original Mustang, when the styling novelty wore off, the PT was just an older, slightly odd-looking car, rather than as something still loved or desired. The retro-styled peers also seemed to lose their luster (and their resale value) fairly quickly, as a group. They either went on and on, as the new Mini has done, or they came and went without retaining the aura of the original. I am thinking of the new Beetle and of the T-Bird remake, which hold no particular value these days. Perhaps the lack of sustained enthusiasm has to do with the idea that the car was primarily for “older folks”. The new Mini bucked the “older folks’ car” tag a bit better, so it sustained solid sales for a longer period of time. Mini also chose to work and extend the car line over the decades, to keep things a bit “fresher”. The other retro offerings were more “one-and-done”.
The PT doesn’t appear particularly “big”, but the egg shape and the overall proportions emphasize the “high” and “stubby” look. In particular, the unbroken, unwavering, raked belt line adds to the feel. Typically, a “high” belt line would mean shorter side windows, but it is really not the case here. The side windows are full sized in height, not tiny slits. The belt line is actually fairly low at the front of the car. It is the extreme rake of the belt line that defines everything else here. The car even has the propensity to go “stink bug” in its proportions. But the “fat” rear end with a lithe front end (though short and framed with big, fat front fenders) makes it all work, in a fashion. I would call this one a case of the whole being a bit greater than the sum of the parts, because the design work actually pulls off a fairly impossible task, which is to give grace and a sense of motion to a not long, but tall, fat car. Most cars with similar proportions (I’m thinking here of the Cube, the Scion iB, and the Honda Element) just stay with the box shape and don’t even try. The Chevy HHR (the Suburban throwback, designed by the same person as the head of the PT design team, Bryan Nesbitt) didn’t make a big attempt to deviate from the “box” arrangement either.
The side profile demonstrates the degree of rake designed into the car.
When one actually sits in the car or otherwise begins interacting with it, the smallness of the entire package really begins to reveal itself. One gets leg room and head room, but not shoulder room. The rear seat passengers are right behind the front seat occupants. The head rests prevent those in the back from breathing on the backs of the necks of those up front, if one wants a bit of a creepy mental picture to explain it. Likewise, the shoulder room is evocative of other, very small cars. Perhaps not Austin Sprite tight (nothing is that tight), but much less than one expects. Note how the doors hang a bit inboard of the front and rear fenders, evoking a bit of “running board” capability. That makes the interior extra narrow for a car of that wheel-to-wheel width. Even the seat cushions, gauges, and controls all feel about 3/4s or 7/8s size, once one is sitting in the thing. The efficiency in a small package creates all sorts of proportional scaling-down of everything, once one gets past the overall boxiness of the interior space.
The dashboard carries over the retro theme. Once you take a seat, you realize that everything is 3/4s to 7/8s size.
The space behind the rear seat is extremely triangular in the vertical, given how the rear hatch slopes forward as it goes up. A removable flat panel gives that rear space a measure of privacy that one typically does not get in a hatchback arrangement. Flip forward or remove the rear seats, and quite a bit of space becomes available. It is a useful space, given the high roof, but it is not a “big” space. Once again, the small scale of the car deflates the measure of victory accorded by clever design work.
With the back seats flipped forward, there is a nicely shaped space to work with. Looks are deceiving, as the car itself is so small.
Speaking of space, note how the rake drops the front of the car fairly low. The narrowness of the hood, side to side, squeezes the lateral dimension, while the bottom of the windshield to the front edge of the hood is actually quite short. Open the hood, and you get no space to work in there, in any direction. Things are packed in. There is also a ton of plastic visible, and not much metal. For an old-school mechanic such as myself, this is an unattractive environment, both spatially and materially. The less done under there, the better. Efficiency creates its own issues.
The 2003 had the original front bodywork, but with body-color painted bumpers, instead of grey plastic.
Driving the car was pleasant enough. I opted for the manual transmission, which gave the car just enough pep and a capacity for responsiveness to make it mildly pleasing, rather than “flooring it and waiting for something to happen”. However, in high speed sweeping corners, the high center of gravity revealed itself, particularly if I was carrying passengers. I could feel the car’s willingness to lift the inside a bit too much, given the opportunity. Most newer cars, and even most light duty trucks, never exhibit such a feel, under mostly ordinary circumstances. This feeling harkened back to my old autocross days, and it was a bit unnerving on open highways in an ordinary car. I never actually had any issues, but the feeling that a potentially dangerous threshold was being approached was not a good one.
In 2006, the front bodywork was changed, and not for the better, in my opinion.
I bought the car, new, in 2003, ordered up exactly as I wanted it. I got the silver with body-colored bumpers, but, luckily (to my taste), before they had done the redesign with the changed front grille-work. Silver-painted alloy wheels completed a very monochromatic look. Combined with the manual shift and drum rear brakes (all too often, optional rear discs can be prone to premature lock-up in panic stops), I believed it to be the best iteration of the car.
This was my attempt to keep my big truck from getting too many miles on it, too quickly, and it was a small treat to be able to zip around in a more nimble vehicle, all the while sitting up a bit (though not as high as in a truck), instead of being down in a “hole”, as a typical sedan would do to my seating height. I considered a Mini, which was also fresh and new, and “retro” themed. I was in the mood for some whimsy in my car purchase, so the “retro” cars were on my list. But the early reports on reliability for the Mini, and reports of lack of dealer responsiveness to issues were not good at all, and I also didn’t want to be tempted to head back into autocrossing with it, as many Mini owners did at the time.
Lots of plastic, and no room to work. Would you like to change that radiator out yourself? This is not a mechanic-friendly environment.
After six years and about 75k miles, the PT’s radiator was holed by road debris, and I set out to pull the radiator and (likely) replace it. There is typically so much plastic and aluminum in the radiators of newer cars, that replacement rather than repair is the order of the day. But I couldn’t actually get in there to pull the old one very easily at all. The lack of engine room space really showed itself. At the same time, shifting gears became an “iffy” proposition from the cable-operated shift mechanism. Per clues from the internet, I found my rubber transmission-end cable bushings had turned to mush. One had to buy new cables for some huge three-figure outlay, so I cobbled up home-brew replacement bushings out of bits of rubber, metal washers, and cotter pins. It actually returned the operation to original. But I felt that the car was telling me to move on. The occasional whiff of anti-freeze smells while driving, along with the persistent slow falling of the coolant level in the new, dealer-installed replacement radiator, suggested a warped cylinder head. I didn’t want to deal with constant repairs on a car that was not user-friendly to repair. I moved on in 2009.
I still like the look of the convertible.
Hello Dutch 1960, This is an interesting review of a car that I had for 13 years. Here are some of my findings:
The PT’s 5th gear was an overdrive; it cruised beautifully and quietly at throughway speeds (the speedometer/tach parallel was in 3rd gear).
The relatively tall seats felt very comfortable; there was plenty of legroom and headroom for 6’1” me, both front & back and it was easy to get into and out of.
The rear seats were a bit higher than the fronts, giving passengers a good view in all directions.
The 60/40 rear seats could be removed for 63 sq. ft of storage. (OK, the 60% seat was a tad heavy).
The front passenger seat-back could fold flat forward allowing inside stowage of long items with the hatch closed.
The controls were logical and easy to use; the AC on-switch was a turn of the fan speed to the left.
The PT body never showed any rust in 13 years of New Jersey winter driving.
The door handles were sold feeling with push buttons and the doors closed with a heavy clunk.
That removable rear shelf that did all sorts of storage tricks (up, down, vertical, out, and picnic table).
Mine had a sliding roof rack adding to the usefulness. Great for carrying ladders and large tree branches (after super storm Sandy).
It was rather quick when pushed; acceleration was a bit faster than my 1.8 NB-1 Miata.
The PT was good in the snow (perhaps a benefit of being kind of heavy and having good tires).
Fuel mileage was so so, unless most of the miles were in 5th gear.
Mine was a pre-face lift 2002, in other words, pre-decontented by Daimler.
Mine had front and rear disc brakes which seemed to work well, but I may never have had to do a panic stop. YMMV
And of course, it had that cool cue ball shifter.
My PT had its unique issues, like fog lights that came on when parked and drained the battery (needed new multifunction switch) and a trick to getting smoothly into reverse that could be easily mastered, but I really liked that car (ok, truck, trucklett, tall wagon, etc.).
Good points. I, too, found the front seats extremely comfortable, and the upright seating position and ease of getting in and out were nice features. The manual transmission made all the difference, to me, in making the car very nimble and responsive, as to engine and drive train.
The exterior door handles were old school chromed handle with push button, which was both evocative of older cars and also very comfortable and satisfying to use. The simple white cue ball shift knob was just right, understated and nice to use.
The car was very “tight”, appeared very well put together, and never really “aged” at all, in the time I owned it, as to loosening up or giving a sense of wearing out. Compared to the earlier Intrepid, which we also bought new, this “lesser” car was better put together and stayed put together, for the most part. Very solid feeling and well done, in a very German/Japanese sort of fit and finish.
Another parallel in our experiences. My trade-in for the PT Cruiser was an Eagle Vision TSi, which as a twin to your Intrepid, was aging poorly even though it was supposed to be a superior vehicle. It wasn’t.
I agree with all of your findings.
Another LH/PT owner here, but one who still owns both.
The PT definitely feels more solid, “of a single piece.” It also weighs almost as much in a much smaller package.
My wife does not drive manual transmissions and we liked the PT Cruiser. With the automatic, it originally needed high rpms to perform so was slow off the line. By the time we were finally ready it was available with the High Output Turbo in its highest trim line which was highly optioned (ours has everything available except the highest premium sound system, the cellphone interface and the engine block heater). So it was an expensive small car.
PT’s versatility is unsurpassed in its size category. More than a few times I have come out of the home improvement store with 8-foot lumber and took it home in the PT. Other customers with monstrous pickups were looking on with amazement , some having to leave open their tailgates on their short beds or tie down the list on their extended-cab roofs.
I still prefer the LH (1995 Dodge Intrepid) with its excellent, controlled ride and agile handling on long drives or on very hot days. Its air conditioner is prodigious, the PT’s only “normal” because with the Turbo engine the compressor pulley is larger to reduce it’s speed.
I have not had the troubles that RLPlaut had with his LH. Mine is slower with the 3.3L pushrod engine. I do agree with him about LH’s very low seating position. Without power seats there is no provision for adjusting seat height (that came in the Cloud Cars Stratus and Cirrus) and I finally raised the rear of the front seats with steel washers and longer, aircraft-spec bolts, and fabricated steel brackets for the front.
One, out-of-the-box, non-retro-mobile not mentioned that was released at the same time as the PT Cruiser was the Pontiac Aztek, the vehicle that is largely (and perhaps incorrectly) credited with killing off that storied GM division. While maybe not directly responsible, it didn’t help matters.
The truly fascinating thing of the Cruiser versus the Aztek is how badly both Chrysler and GM misread (or outright ignored) their marketing/focus groups data. While Chrysler’s data indicated the PT Cruiser would be a hit, they opted, instead, for a conservative production approach. As a result, potential customers were left out in the cold for months after introduction as Chrysler had to scramble to keep up with demand.
GM took quite a different approach with the Aztek. Their marketing told them their crossover would be much more of a niche vehicle and to limit production. Just like Chrysler, they did the opposite and immediately ramped-up production. Consequently, Pontiac lots quickly filled with unsold Azteks as GM had to quickly slash production (and ladle big gobs of money on the hoods) of what would quickly become the generally reviled, quasi-minivan.
One other interesting facet of the PT Cruiser (and later Chevy HHR and Kia Soul) is the appeal to a specific, overlooked demographic, i.e., aging Baby Boomers. Traditionally gravitating to Buick and Mercury sedans, suddenly, they began snapping up Cruisers, HHRs, and Souls (the latter of which continues to do to this day). Besides being individualistic (yet practical), geezers really appreciated the higher ‘command’ seating and sight lines for the driver of these smaller, easier to drive vehicles versus, say, larger, more expensive, high center-of-gravity SUVs.
” … i.e., aging Baby Boomers …”
Hey, I represent that remark!
Just a few thoughts:
Even though I am currently driving one, I never really cared for the monochromatic look in cars (my Fusion is silver with silver wheelcovers), these PTs look a bit better in some, more vibrant colors. As a more expensive alternative to something like a Neon or Cavalier/Cobalt, that rear hatch and storage area are quite a nice bonus.
The ” original ” PT was notable for looking quite similar to the ” styling concept ” it was based on, kudos to Chrysler for that. Unfortunately, as the 2006(?) facelift showed, a car like the PT can be a styling dead end. Even so, when I pass the very bright yellow PT sitting on a used car lot in my town I am always mentally calculating whether I can afford to add it to my collection, even if only temporarily.
As for the PT versus Aztek: the Aztek ” styling concept ” was reasonably attractive, the production vehicle was ridiculously compromised (re: just plain UGLY).
Something that’s always been rather baffling is how the stylists eschew chrome bumpers on these retro-mobiles. While steel bumpers would never fly in this world of plastic bumper fasicas over styrofoam, it is possible to get chrome-like, mylar aftermarket overlay ‘bumpers’ that transform and improve the front and rear appearance of these cars to something much closer to the original.
I thought my father, born 1927, would like the PT and HHR for their late 30s looks, but he hated them. His father had traded their big ’30 Buick for a ’37 Plymouth that Dad and Grandma considered a big comedown, so I guess the Streamline era was tainted for him.
I never thought of cars from the late 30s/early 40s as a template for cool, but that forward rake that Chrysler cleverly added to these, made all the difference.
I remember how popular these were at launch. In many ways, almost everything Chrysler built in this era was the opposite of what it had built in the 60s. These were stylish and cool, were well assembled and very popular. However, the combination of poor durability of many components and the horribly tight packaging that made service hard and expensive drained the roads of these fairly soon as they aged.
They didn’t really meet my needs when they were new or common, and now that one would, I have no desire to tackle ownership of a Mopar from that era as an older car.
Very well put. For all the praise that cab forward gets, it was a service nightmare, having experience working on Cirrus, Breeze, Concorde, Intrepid, Sebring convertible and a Neon.
(My buddy who I rented a shop with at the time had a strong affection for Mopars. He could swap a 2.0/2.4 head gasket in a few hours. He regrettably got me to purchase 3, and they were disasters. Moral of the story, stick with what YOU know.)
Nice perspective on how the difficulty working on the drivetrain components of the Cab Forward cars going a very long way to their scarcity.
IOW, it’s not the cost of parts, but the labor involved to do the work that’s gotten them all off the roads.
Just spotted a “gold PT” driving to work yesterday. Still a few of them roaming the roads in my area.
I liked the idea of the convertibles.
Rode in a “PT” or two; found them a bit raspy/ noisy.
I was amazed there were waiting lists for them.
I still see these around here and they seem to be well taken care of. Pay attention Detroit, there are still folks who want a small car that can carry a lot of stuff.
What??? Are you saying that not everyone wants an overpriced electric truck that Mary is pushing on the American public??
A Ford Bronco Sport and Chevrolet Equinox both have more cargo room, with the seats up and with them down.
Obviously what we each think of as a small car differs.
But the PT Crusier wasn’t a small car it was a small truck per Chrysler and the EPA.
I was looking for something I could haul my paintings to shows and was really excited to find a PT Cruiser on a Chrysler lot on a Sunday morning where I could really look at it without being hounded by a salesperson. Went through all of the features and thought this would be a dandy vehicle for the purpose I wanted it for. As much as humanly possible, I do all of my own repair work, so I popped the hood and there my heart sank. Seeing how tightly it was packaged, I saw nothing but nightmares ahead if I had to do anything remotely serious to it. I just closed the hood and got back in the St.Regis which has done my art hauling duties for almost 30 years now.
Drove one for 7 years. Fun to drive, good for road trips without ending up sore and tired.
…But, yeah, working on it. Iactually did replace the whole cooling system on it. And motor mounts. Pain in the a$$. Thankfully I never had to replace the alternator..
“…poorer middle aged” oh my. That description fits the only person I know who bought a PT new, one of the last years they had them. To its credit, she put a lot of miles on it. She definitely got her use out of it. I think she had a job shuttling foster kids or something, at the time.
It was the only car I’ve ever known her to have that was less than 15 years old and showing less than 200k when she got it. Her record resumed after the PT. I think she drives a perpetually broken old Dodge Ram now.
I had one as a rental once, and really enjoyed it. I do recall that it felt quite narrow, but had plenty of room for our family of four on vacation. And in the spirit of the CC Effect, a few days ago I spent several freeway miles in the company of a clean and only mildly modified (at least visually) 1937 Ford, through Oakland on I-880.
For a good pack of years, a PT Cruiser was the only Chrysler product I’d happily accept as a rental. Nobody liked working on them, for as you say, they weren’t designed for it. But I liked the upright driving position and the good sightlines, the controls and displays, the major-brand (Hella) headlamps designed to be better than they minimally had to be by law—that was unusual for Chrysler. I never tried a handshift PT, but the automatic shifter was retro-fun to use. And (glory hallelu) real rear turn signals, even!
My mother very well might’ve wound up with one, if they hadn’t been overpriced soon after launch.
You’re right; the restyle worsened it. An ugly, pointless scallop effect to the headlamps, sliced-off corners of the reversing lamps, and other such random, incoherent can’t-keep-hands-off-it changes. If anything, it could’ve done with round headlamps.
I recall noticing a PT in traffic behind me one time, and trying to figure out why it looked unusually good. About a half mile later I figured it out: someone had installed a chrome front bumper.
Just spotted a “gold PT” driving to work yesterday. Still a few of them roaming the roads in my area.
I liked the idea of the convertibles.
Rode in a “PT” or two; found them a bit raspy/ noisy.
Can’t say I ever considered one at least longer than a nanosecond, but I liked the PT. I found humor in it’s retro styling, inoffensive not memorable, but that’s what it’s supposed to be. But not serious, it wasn’t trying to be something besides what it was. I could swear the early reviews or reports I read said it was on a Neon platform, but everything later said Minivan. Doesn’t matter, it was supposed to be cute and cheap and it was.
Personally I always thought Chrysler missed the boat in not making a real performance version, but I’m not in the business of making cars and they are, or were at least, maybe they knew what they were doing.
Contrasted with it’s immediate competitor, the HHR, which I immediately took a dislike to and regarded as only slightly less offensive looking than it’s Aztek stablemate.
Never drove one, my wife had one as a rental 3K miles away from home looking after her Mom and absolutely hated it, mostly due to visibility.
Chrysler did build a GT Turbo version, which was not performance that knocked the lights out, but it did take things up a step or two.
Your wife’s visibility issue probably had to do with the need to lean forward a bit to see the overhead traffic lights, if you were first in line at the intersection. The way the roof dropped down over the windshield, for styling purposes, definitely reduced the upward visibility, looking out the front. For some reason, we didn’t mention it here, but that was the other very big functional compromise due to the styling, along with the engine room access issue.
I was favorably disposed toward the PT Cruiser on its introduction but having the use of one on an out of town trip lessened my enthusiasm. Mileage seemed unimpressive and the interior had too much shiny plastic for my taste. Later rented an HHR which seemed better put together and also better mileage.
Of all the cars I’ve never actually owned, I probably have the most seat time in one of these Petes. When they first came out, I was scouring the options pages… wow, great colors! I had recently married into a Chrysler family, and my father-in law had spent his entire career there. We had suffered through a long road trip honeymoon squeeze into his Neon. The new PT Cruiser looked positively spacious in comparison. Small hatchbacks were my sweet spot, and I welcomed a new contender. I could have gotten an employee/family discount, but something held me back. Was it a lack of side air bags, or those rear drum brakes? So I stuck with my Euro-trash Audis and SAABs.
It was my father in law who bought the PT Cruiser, slightly upscale model in bright blue. Pretty soon, I was behind the wheel- because lo it was written in the ancient days that this family would gather every year at a Delaware beach town east of D.C. for a week of fun and high humidity and chilly salt water. For many years, we’d fly in to Baltimore and pick up the Cruiser left for us by the inlaws. Many hours of testing on dead-flat roads at extremely moderate speeds convinced me that the Chrysler PT Cruiser was up to the task. If you didn’t bring too much luggage. The time we had three adults and suitcases plus an acoustic guitar was pretty snug!
The car was delightful in the uber-urban setting of Washington D.C., where they resided. Perfect visibility, and very easy to park. I never thought again about buying one, though. The engine and auto transmission were weak and noisy. One trip across Maryland and Delaware (the wide part) in light traffic resulted in 26 MPG, which seemed really poor. My turbo SAAB would have done 33 mpg there. “No, that’s pretty good,” said my father-in-law. “I only manage to get 22.”
The design choices and details in the PT Cruiser were really inspired and successful, I think. But there was just no excellence under the hood, and no evident ambition to make it better in succeeding years.
I appreciated all the millennial retro cars. They were more optimistic and playful-looking than the grim, hulking war chariots sold today.
What bugged me the most about these was the name. It seems like the letters should stand for something, but what? “Part-Time Cruiser”? Just ridiculous.
PT stood for Personal Transportation.
I enjoyed reading the comments here. We have an 05 Very with the 5 speed manual. We’ve owned ours since 09 and at this time it has 118k in the mileage department. We purposely purchased it being a stick shift to be able to tow behind our motor home. It worked perfectly.
It’s had it’s issues most of them mentioned already and yes trying to work on anything under the hood is a stretch.
The wife doesn’t particularly like to take any long distance trips in it but they don’t bother me. I find the car comfortable enough to sustain any long distances. I’m 6’1 and find there is plenty of leg room for me.
My overall experience is positive and the body still has no visible rust. For being a Michigan car that’s kind of unbelievable but it is what it is. I can say to be honest though that there is rust under the hood at the latch.
I’ve maybe wanted a new vehicle but I’m having a hard time letting it go. It’s obviously paid for and the repair bills are still way cheaper than monthly payments on a new vehicle by far so I guess it’ll be with us a while longer. I didn’t mention but it is just the Base model and it performs as I would expect for what it is. I can’t complain about mileage either. 24 city, 28 highway. Not bad for what fuel is costing today.
Anyway that’s my story and I’m sticking to it. Thanks for reading it if you have.
I read this entire article and I love it! When the convertible came out in gold with a black top, I waited 9 years to get that car! I have had my Bernice Matisse since 2014 and I have made so many trips in this cute little car and it is perfect for every parking spot! I would love to totally pimp My Ride and make her a Baja Bernice! I’ve had to do some repairs on the car, but has been so worth the money spent! Here is the only and I mean only thing about PT cruiser.. hence the word cruiser.. why would they ever make any version of this vehicle without Cruise control?! That is one of the comedy bit I do about my favorite car in the whole world! Seriously, why does my car not have cruise control? I can wedge my foot in there and have driven the car enough that I have kind of an automatic cruise control but I’ve always thought about adding an aftermarket?! Opinions?
2003 PT Cruiser Limited Edition.
Still turning heads!
The PT seems to be a ‘love it or hate it’ car, with relatively little middle ground. I for one love mine. Both of them! I purchased a 2001 Limited in 2013 as a daily driver and to run appliance service calls. I found that of all the vehicles in that size category, the PT afforded the most room for tools & equipment and was by far the easiest to get in & out of! The HHR was horrible! I hit my head getting in and out and had to practically crawl off the ground to get out of those! I’m a big guy and my wife is 5′ 11″ and we have no issues with room or comfort. That 2001 PT now has 201,000 miles on it and is still going strong, with the only major repairs being a head gasket, and lower control arms. I’ve done the timing belt/water pump once just past the service interval and replaced the radiator as well (due to road debris damage – not the cars fault!) which was actually a simple job. My other PT is my fun one, being a custom-built GT panel version with a turbo. I’ve had lots of different cars in my 45 years of driving and the PTs have been some of the best vehicles I’ve owned.
Just wanted to add a pic of the PT Panel . . . not many around!
Sharp PT Sam!
Great article, I have a 2006 my mom gave me and I’ve had it for about 8 years . I’m 6-2 and it’s very comfortable, love how much room there is . Figure on keeping it since they don’t make them anymore.