Mated to the six, an automatic transmission with a startling nine speeds helped us stretch 25 miles out of a highway gallon of gasoline under conditions that toggled back and forth between traffic-choked and 85 mph, annoyingly mostly the former. Less likable about the transmission, which is operated by a rotary dial a la Jaguar, is the lack of any paddle-shift or, for that matter, any way in which to request a specific downshift. Select the L station on the rotary dial, with all unnecessary concentration that implies, and it will drop out of the nine-speed’s four-overdriven top gears, but to which gear, basically the who, what, when, where, and why of it, is for you to find out. It’s disconcerting to the driver who spends any time at all thinking about his or her choice of ratios. We know minivans are supposed to be boring, but this is vibe-killer boring.
