“While I was in Miami, they stole my rental car, because apparently, they didn’t have enough time to load up a gun and shoot me. Lewis Black had a great bit about the Horizon – Not a Joy to ride. “Among small cars, these are the big guys.” Per your lower comment, I always boasted about my Omni’s interior passenger room to passengers who couldn’t believe they actually fit in the rear seats. I still wish Chrysler had seen fit to offer the 2.5 in regular and turbocharged form for the final Omni America years with no giveaway badging, those would have entered the upper ranks of factory sleepers. She boasted of 35 mpg along those routes, which was excellent for any small car of that era. A close friend in a neighboring state misses her dear departed Omni America and its ability to handle the steep mountain grades of Route 6 between Price and Provo with aplomb, as well as the equally challenging section of I-70 between Grand Junction and Denver.
#THE LAST HORIZON COOLMATH FULL#
Indeed it was: the 2.2 transformed the Omnirizon pair from wheezy econoboxes to zippy hatchbacks which could easily get out of their own way, even with a full load of passengers and cargo. By that time, the mid-70s-ness of the design had become a bit embarrassing for Chrysler. The Omni, Horizon, and their L-body variants continued production in the United States until 1990. You see some odd little luxury touches in this otherwise minimalist econobox. With gas prices and inflation soaring year after year, however, the gas-sipping Horizon looked like a good deal next to the much thirstier (and not much roomier) Volaré. The ’78 Horizon listed at $3,976, which was actually 200 bucks more than a new Plymouth Volaré two-door (but $250 less than a new Rabbit). If that sounds like faint praise, remember that expectations were lower during the depths of the Malaise Era. The Plymouth Horizon was an Americanized version of a Chrysler of Europe design, and it wasn’t any more miserable to drive than other front-drive subcompacts of the late 1970s (e.g., the Ford Fiesta, Volkswagen Rabbit, Datsun 310). Prior to the Omnirizon, the only subcompacts sold by Chrysler in the United States had been rebadged Mitsubishis, Hillmans, and Simcas, all built overseas. This car was the first true subcompact car Chrysler ever built in North America, and it (along with its Dodge sibling, the Omni, and the French-market Talbot/Simca Horizon) was a big hit on both sides of the Atlantic. I found this one languishing in a Denver self-serve junkyard. What you won’t see often is today’s Junkyard Find, a first-year Plymouth Horizon. This much is obvious.īut when Monty reveals that it is NOT #2, he does NOT change the denominator of the equation – there are STILL 3 possibilities! And that is where people get confused.Yesterday’s Junkyard Find was one of the better-known examples of the Simca-based “Omnirizon” platform, and you still see 80s Dodge Chargers here and there.
The way to think about this is that yuo have a 1/3 chance of being correct and a 2/3 chance of being incorrect.
That means if you choose #1, there is a 66% chance you are wrong – in other words, there is a 66% chance it is #2 or #3. When you are first choosing, each choice has a 33% chance of being correct. What? How does this work? Let’s take a look … Only problem? It is wrong! You absolutely SHOULD switch! Sounds very reasonable, right? Two doors, one prize … 50%. Why? The thought is that there is now a 50% chance of each door having the prize, so the bias goes to your original choice.
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