By 1998, the Honda Prelude had reached its peak form for enthusiasts. The fifth generation wasn’t just another pretty coupe—it was Honda’s last great front-wheel-drive sports car before the world turned its attention to SUVs and sensor-driven econoboxes with touchscreen dashboards. The 1998 Honda Prelude captured everything the brand did best: balance, engineering precision, and that trademark blend of reliability and performance. It was a ways off from being the fastest car of its era, but it felt fast.
The 1998 Honda Prelude Was A Golden-Era Honda
The Prelude lineage began in 1978 as a stylish, slightly upscale coupe aimed at drivers who wanted a hint of sport without the sacrifice of a true sports car. But by the time the fifth generation debuted in 1997, Honda had figured out exactly what it wanted the Prelude to be: a driver’s car first, and a style statement second.
The 1998 model sat on the same double-wishbone suspension setup that made Hondas of the ‘90s legendary among enthusiasts. It shared DNA with the Integra Type R, but in a slightly heavier, more mature body. Gone was the previous generation’s four-wheel steering system—cool in theory, but costly and complicated in practice. What replaced it was a sharper, more direct chassis setup that favored practicality over gimmicks.
Engine And Performance
At the heart of the fifth-gen Prelude was the H22A4 engine—a 2.2-liter DOHC four-cylinder masterpiece that embodied everything Honda fans love about the brand’s engineering. With 195 horsepower at 7,000 rpm and 156 pound-feet of torque, the H22A4 wasn’t about brute force. It was about rhythm. Below 5,000 rpm, it hummed politely; above that, VTEC engaged, the cam lobes switched profiles, and the engine transformed from a smooth commuter to a screaming machine.
Handling
What really set the 1998 Honda Prelude apart was its balance. Honda’s double-wishbone suspension gave it poise few front-wheel-drive cars could touch. With a near 60/40 weight distribution and a stiffened chassis, the Prelude offered tight turn-in and superb mid-corner composure. Torque steer? Barely noticeable. Body roll? Minimal. Grip? Endless, especially with modern performance tires.
Steering feel was hydraulic and alive—something we’ve lost in the age of electronic racks. Every bump, every camber change in the road, translated directly through the wheel. In many ways, the Prelude was Honda’s proof that front-wheel drive could be just as rewarding as rear-wheel drive if done right. The later model Prelude, got the SH trim package, which stood for “Super Handling”, which had some fancy voodoo that Honda called Active Torque Transfer System (ATTS). This was a cool idea, but owners report some trouble with this system.
And while the suspension was firm, it wasn’t punishing. You could daily drive it, commute in it, then carve corners on the weekend without a hint of fatigue. It was a balanced compromise—a theme that defined the car.
Transmission And Driving Experience
The Prelude’s five-speed manual gearbox (a four-speed automatic was optional, but best ignored) was slick, tight, and deliberate—one of those transmissions that make you want to downshift just for the feel of it. Car and Driver clocked the Prelude at 6.7 seconds from 0 to 60 mph, quick for the time but not blistering. Yet, the numbers miss the point. The real joy was in how linear everything was: throttle response, steering feedback, brake modulation—all perfectly synchronized.
Market Value: The Prelude Finds Redemption
For years, the 1998 Prelude was the forgotten middle child of Honda’s performance family—overshadowed by the Civic Si and the Integra Type R. But that’s changing fast.
In 2025, clean stock examples of the 1998 Honda Prelude are climbing in value. A well-kept manual example with under 100,000 miles can fetch between $12,000 and $20,000, depending on condition and originality. Pristine examples of the rare Type SH—Honda’s “Super Handling” variant with that Active Torque Transfer System—can go higher.
Modified cars, however, are a different story. A tastefully tuned Prelude can be a bargain or a black hole, depending on execution. Heavily modified examples with engine swaps, body kits, or questionable wiring tend to sell for less because buyers know they’ll need to undo years of “creative” tuning. But a lightly modified, properly sorted car with suspension upgrades, performance exhaust, and factory paint can command serious respect and collector interest.
In the used market, the Prelude is finally gaining recognition as a legitimate classic: one of the last analog Hondas before the modern era of drive-by-wire sterility.
Collector Outlook
The Prelude is gaining momentum among younger collectors, especially those nostalgic for the golden age of Gran Turismo and ‘90s tuner culture. Stock examples are being snapped up quickly, and values are expected to rise as clean, unmolested cars become harder to find.
Tuning Potential: The Prelude’s Second Life
Ask any Honda enthusiast, and they’ll tell you: the Prelude is one of the best-balanced platforms Honda ever built. But because it’s a heavier, less common model than the Civic or Integra, tuning paths tend to be more specialized. There is an endless combination of aftermarket parts and tunes that a Prelude will take.
Suspension
Upgrading suspension components can have a massive impact on a Prelude. Adjustable coilovers transform the Prelude’s handling from great to spectacular. Paired with harder polyurethane bushings, strut bars, and maybe a teeny drop, you get sharper turn-in and better response without ruining ride quality. A rear sway bar upgrade is one of the most impactful mods—it reduces understeer and makes the car dance through corners.
Engine Swaps And JDM Parts
The stock H22A4 responds well to bolt-ons—headers, high-flow intake, and a tuned ECU can unlock another 10–15 horsepower. But the real fun comes from swapping. JDM H22A engines from the Japanese Prelude SiR offer slightly higher compression and around 220 horsepower, while the H23 VTEC hybrid builds (H23 bottom end, H22 head) have become a cult favorite for torque lovers.
For those chasing turbo dreams, the H22 can handle moderate boost with forged internals, but it’s not as tolerant as the B-series engines. A properly tuned 7–8 psi setup can make a Prelude legitimately fast—think 300+ horsepower—but reliability depends entirely on tuning precision.
JDM Upgrades and Styling
The 1998 Prelude has a devoted following in the JDM scene. Enthusiasts often chase authentic SiR or Type S parts: one-piece headlights, red H badges, Mugen lips, and factory Recaros. Some go full period-correct, recreating the look of late-‘90s Japanese tuner builds—think Volk TE37s, Spoon mirrors, and subtle carbon touches. Done right, it’s actually a pretty classic look.
In the Shadow of the Type R
The Prelude’s biggest problem has always come from its own family tree. In 1998, the Integra Type R was Honda’s performance darling—lighter, sharper, and wearing that coveted red badge. But while the Type R was a sports car, the Prelude was more of a grand tourer. It was the car you could live with every day, then attack a canyon road at night. It had air conditioning, comfortable seats, and a trunk that could fit luggage.
The 5th-gen Prelude also represented a turning point for Honda’s philosophy. It was the last time the company built a sporty coupe purely for enthusiasts, without worrying about market trends or badge hierarchy. After the Prelude bowed out in 2001, Honda’s performance focus shifted to Civics and the S2000. The coupe segment that it helped define began to disappear.
Why Enthusiasts Still Love The Prelude
There’s something wonderfully honest about the Honda Prelude, across all its variations. It doesn’t rely on turbochargers or trick electronics to make you smile. It relies on sound engineering, tactile feedback, and that high-revving VTEC charm that defined a generation of tuners.
In the late ‘90s, it became a hero of car culture—appearing in import magazines, drag strips, and early Gran Turismo games. For many, it was their attainable dream car: sleek, reliable, endlessly modifiable, and unmistakably Japanese. Even today, it delivers something modern cars often miss: feel. You can sense the chassis flex slightly in hard corners. You can feel the engine’s workings through the shifter. You can hear the intake’s snarl as VTEC snaps to life—no synthetic soundtracks needed.
The 1998 Prelude was more than just another sporty Honda—it was the closing chapter of an era when cars were different. They were made with people in mind, not algorithms. It’s easy to overlook in a world obsessed with Supras and RX-7s, but ask anyone who’s owned one about it, and they’ll rattle on and on about their Honda.
Sources: Honda, Car and Driver, Bring a Trailer, JDM Universe