For chocolate lovers, Grand Forks is a short and satisfying trip
“There is chocolate, and then there’s chocolate,” says George Widman, quadrupling the accent on the second version.
To paraphrase, next time you stop to pick up a candy bar, pause a moment and ask yourself: Do you like chocolate, or do you REALLY like chocolate? If you can feel your taste-buds starting to salute just from thinking about it, then a day-trip to Grand Forks isn’t very far at all.
It takes a few hours, but it’s a scenic ride, directly northwest, up Hwy. 2. From Duluth, you have perfectly placed stops at about one-hour intervals, at Grand Rapids, Bemidji, and Crookston, before the last hop to the Red River. Once you cross it, you’re in Grand Forks. There are some well-known, major attractions in Grand Forks, not the least of which is the University of North Dakota’s perennial powerhouse hockey team, and there’s a nice, big mall, and an air base.
In fact, UND benefactor Ralph Engelstad, who built a perfect arena for the Fighting Sioux hockey team that once listed him as a goaltender, is now a big-money owner of hotels and casinos in Las Vegas, and he has underwritten the building of a spectacular new hockey arena, going up on campus right now, with completion for next fall. It will cost $80 million, and the people drive up every day just to watch the biggest crane in the world hoisting huge sections into place. Watching it being constructed is an attraction by itself, as a steady stream of passers-by drove up, even on a Saturday afternoon, to observe. When it’s done, it will have polished granite floors with marble inlays, and 48 suites, 46 of which already have been purchased at $28,000 for three years.
But to make this family trip meet with unanimous support is that you’re aiming for Widman’s candy store, located downtown, at 106 S. 3rd St. It’s right by the river, adjacent to the railroad tracks on one side and on the other to a joint called the “Plain Brown Wrapper,” which specializes in, shall we say, adult books. Not that it matters. Neither rain, nor snow, nor sleet, nor floods, nor the porno shop next door, can stop the steady stream of customers to Widman’s to buy what George Widman calls, with all due restraint, the best chocolate in the world.
“I don’t care how much money you’ve got, you can’t buy better candy than we make,” said Widman. “Whatever ingredients are called for, we use only the best. We don’t cut any corners. Everything in the store is better. And you know, it’s good for you. People say tea is good for you, but dark chocolate has four times the antioxidants of tea. Did you know that?”
Uh, yes, I did know that, the result of a lifetime seeking out such jewels of information to rationalize a constant craving for dark chocolate. (It has less sugar than milk chocolate, so it’s diet candy, right?)
George comes to work every day, and tells customers he’s 81. When you pin him down, he’ll admit his 81st birthday doesn’t come until March of next year. He’s the youngest in a family that includes siblings who are 89, 87, 85 and 83. “You know what our secret is?” Widman asked. “Eat lots of candy.”
Widman sent all six of his kids on to get college degrees, but a couple of them came back to run Widman’s candy stores in Crookston and Fargo. Even though the Crookston store dates back a full century, the Grand Forks place is now home base.
“I started this one after the war,” Widman said.
Which war? “World War II,” he shot back. “I was in the navy, and I came back here and started this place in 1949. I’m the third generation in this business. The first one was started in St. Paul by my grandfather, in the last century. Grandpa was a candy maker and baker, and my father was a candy and ice cream maker, and he started a store in 1900 in Crookston.”
One of Widman’s sisters ran the Crookston store, until one of George’s kids, also named George, took over. A daughter, Carol Widman Kennedy, runs the store in Fargo, so that makes it a four-generation family business.
When the Red River overshot its banks in 1997, the entire downtown area of Grand Forks was submerged. Watching the disaster on nightly television newscasts made us all worry about the people, about the businesses, and about the city of Grand Forks. I worried a little extra about Widman’s.
“Water was 4 feet high in our store,” said Widman. “There were only two businesses downtown that didn’t get any relief money — us and the porno shop next door. You know why we didn’t get any help? We rebuilt everything right away ourselves.”
Maybe it would have been politically indelicate to help out the adult bookstore, but the Widman family rallied immediately to bail out George — literally as well as figuratively. Offspring and sons-in-law helped rebuild, including replacing damaged essentials, which required about $75,000 in work by Widman’s estimate.
The quality of the candy is unquestioned, but the novelty quotient also is off the scale. Most chocolate lovers also like something salty and crunchy to offset the rich sweetness, and Widman’s signature item is chocolate-covered potato chips. What could be more appropriate? Potatoes are a dominant crop in the Red River Valley, so Widman’s takes ripple chips and dunks them in chocolate, milk, dark or white, and sells them as “Chippers.” The old chip commercial saying, “Bet you can’t eat just one” has never been more accurate.
“We just got through sending a couple pounds to Rockefeller in Washington,” said Widman. “Isn’t there some Rockefeller who’s a senator?”
But there are many other treats, and Widman is quick to push a sample on customers, knowing the rate of orders is unexcelled. There are nut clusters, with almonds, pecans, walnuts or cashews, and caramels, creams, and innovative mixtures. There is one with dark chocolate covering a layer of caramel topped with coconut.
“Did you try the chocolate-covered pickles, or olives?” asked Widman, later, over the telephone. I hadn’t.
It turned out, he was out of the dark-chocolate caramel-coconut things, called Suzie-somethings, the day I was there last week. He also was out of the dark-chocolate Chippers, although he had the milk chocolate and white chocolate ones. When he knew I wanted dark chocolate, he pulled out the huge, empty storage bag, rummaged around, and, sure enough, he found four dark-chocolate Chippers in the bottom. He insisted I take them, on the house.
He “forced” me to try two or three other varieties, too, as he had done with a dozen other customers there ahead of me. I didn’t buy any of the samples, but I did buy a half-pound of dark chocolate covered almond clusters, and a half-pound of turtles, with pecans and caramel inside that incredibly penetrating dark-chocolate coating. They were $4.50 for each white sack, making it $9 for the two.
“It seems like the word in business these days is to see how much you can gyp the customer,” said Widman. “You don’t get gypped here. You try to find candy this good for $9 a pound.”
Or, just try to find candy this good.
I told George I’d be back, because I go to Grand Forks at least once every year, under the guise of watching hockey games. Not a bad cover.
“Well, next time you’re coming, call ahead,” Widman said. “And I’ll make sure we’ve got enough dark chocolate Chippers.”
There’s always mail-order, too, but then you wouldn’t get to listen to ol’ George, which is worth half the tripÂ…Well, almost half.
Honda, Volvo try to find different answers to the SUV question
Presidents get elected (or don’t), nations resolve to clean up the air (or don’t), winter hits us with full fury (or doesn’t), sport-utility vehicles are stable and secure (or roll over), but through it all, SUVs continue to proliferate. Companies keep making ’em, customers keep buying ’em.
The companies that have several SUVs are adding more, in new and different sizes, and the companies that never had built SUVs are scrambling to jump into the lucrative and profitable segment. Coming in late is OK, but it’s a lot better if you can do it by combining a new idea into some sort of compromise niche, called the crossover segment, which is somewhere between a car, a truck, a station wagon, and whatever other elements you can cram into it.
Two such companies are Honda and Volvo, neither of which was very eager to build vehicles they may have reasoned were too big, too unmaneuverable, too inefficient, and not in keeping with their stately images.
For 2001, they have taken decidedly different approaches to having their names on SUVs.
Honda, which used to buy Rodeos from Isuzu and rebadging them as Honda Passports, has finally built its own SUV, and awarded it to its upscale Acura line, as — for those who like alphabetized nicknames — the MDX.
Volvo, which has always stuck with solid, safe and durable sedans and wagons, tried coming out with a special version of its station wagon, and now has promoted it — for those who like alpha-numeric nicknames — as the V70 XC AWD.
These are not the only companies belatedly invading the SUV goldmine. Audi has just introduced its allroad, which is its version of a crossover station wagon/SUV, and which was previously given an introductory review in auto/motives. And Hyundai has jumped in with the Santa Fe, which is reviewed inside today’s section, on page ((((())))).
When SUVs began life, there were Jeeps, and Land Rovers, and Land Cruisers. Then it grew to Broncos and Blazers, and then to Suburbans and Explorers. There was never much doubt that these early SUVs were trucks, built to take the kind of pounding that might be issued by thrashing off-road. Nowadays, as the number of available SUVs climbs to the 70s, there are car platforms with truck-like bodies attached, there are unibody trucks built the way smaller cars are built, there are trucks designed to be similar to cars, and cars disguised as trucks.
Here are two new ones.
ACURA MDX
Maybe it should have been predictable that when Honda ultimately got around to building an SUV, it would be a good one. How good remains to be seen, but at first test, the MDX could well wear the nickname of being the Honda of SUVs.
For comparison purposes, the MDX is most like the BMW X5 or the Lexus RX300. It is not aimed at being an off-road beater, with a shorter wheelbase but longer overall length than BMW X5 or the Mercedes ML320, but it is capable of mild off-roading. It does have 8 inches of ground clearance, which just about duplicates the X5, is more than the RX300, if not as much as some of the hardier SUVs.
It also uses all the technology Honda has accumulated from years of quality car-building and high-tech racing. First impression is that the MDX is a neatly styled capsule, classier than the truck-based SUVs, and low enough to have an easy step-in height. Seats are firm but comfortable, and there are two rows of seats with a third bench seat that actually could accommodate two or three residents. You also can flatten all the seats to create 82 cubic feet of hauling space, or to haul stuff that’s 4-feet wide on a flat rear floor.
The interior gives the driver a classy outlook, too, with woodgrain and leather abundant, a very businesslike center console with the familiar and impressive Acura navigation-system screen mounted up high where it is readily readable. The Acura navigation screen can be set to instruct you on how best to get to your destination, complete with voice instructions on where and when to turn, or to merely give you a map of where you are, which can be scaled up close or three-states wide.
Power comes from a comparatively small 3.5-liter V6, all aluminum with single overhead camshafts, tweaked to produce 240 horsepower at 5,300 RPMs and 245 foot-pounds of torque at 3,000 RPMs. That’s more horsepower and more torque than the BMW, Mercedes, Lexus, or Mitsubishi Montero, among others, although it’s possible to find others with the same or slightly more grunt.
Car and Driver magazine tested seven new SUVs in the near-$40,000 range, selected with luxury as a base quality, and ranked the Acura MDX has first overall, and fastest in both 0-60 and quarter-mile acceleration tests, over the BMW X5, Infiniti QX4, Land Rover Discovery, Lexus RX300, Mercedes ML320, and Mitsubishi Montero. Very impressive. The MDX towing capacity, however, is the same as the Lexus and less than all the others.
As for its all-wheel-drive, the MDX has full-time all-wheel drive, with a push-button control to isolate maximum torque to the rear wheels. It might go over 50 percent in some circumstances, but not more than 56 percent, although that only works at speeds under 18 mph and in first or second gears. That’s fine, because you’d only use that for getting up steep grades or out of rugged circumstances.
The MDX power is transmitted through a 5-speed automatic transmission, which worked seamlessly, and can be shifted easily by hand, which is important in light-duty off-road excursins. All in all, the MDX was as smooth and stable as a luxury sedan on the road. Four-wheel disc brakes with antilock, and pliable but firm-enough suspension combine for precise control whether steering, turning or stopping.
Other creature features include a 6-disc CD player in the dash, remote audio controls on the left of the steering wheel with cruise control switches on the right. Interestingly, Honda still puts an on-off switch on the dash that must be activated before you can operate the steering-wheel cruise switch.
Dual seat-heaters are nice in Up North cold, and the center console sort of continues on to provide cubicles and stashing places at two levels, then there’s a pop-up dual cupholder.
The heat-air controls are located on push-buttons above the navigation screen, with the audio controls below the screen.
The MDX comfort level is a subjective thing, of course, but Honda seats always seem to have the capability to be firmly supportive and yet comfortable. In actual measurement, the front bucket room ranks with the best of the others in its class, but the rear-seat comfort and room in the MDX are unequalled.
It feels more stable on tight turns and slaloms than the Lexus or Mercedes, and if it might be less agile in high-performance handling than the BMW, it is priced several thousand dollars less than the X5, coming in, loaded, right about $40,000. That price also puts the MDX just under the other “luxury” SUVs, making it a decent bargain for those looking for a bit more plush vehicle than the normal truck-based SUV.
VOLVO V70 XC AWD
No matter how you write it, the Volvo V70 XC AWD name looks a lot like what can happen if you doze off at your keyboard and your fingers hit a bunch of random keys. But it’s easy, if you remember that “V” designates the model, as in wagon, compared to “S” for sedan, and the “70” designates the Volvo’s size, compared to the smaller 40 and the larger 80, while “XC” is for Cross Country, and, of course, AWD is for all-wheel drive.
Think a model nickname might be easier?
Volvo has made the Cross-Country for three years now, adapting an idea Subaru started, of taking a station wagon, jacking up the suspension, throwing on some oversized tires, and maybe front, wheelwell and underside protective panels and calling it an Outback. Or, a Forester. That’s also the path Audi has taken with its allroad.
But the Cross-Country took over the larger share of Volvo’s hearty wagon sales, so Volvo has considerably upgraded the XC in the redesign of the vehicle for 2001.
It may still be difficult to get used to Volvos being anything but squarish, boxy, dull-styled drudges, but this new design is downright sleek. The familiar front end is slicked down to a grille that is surrounded by plastic cladding, which outlines the grille, the headlights and becomes the same as the bumper, then it extends to outline the wheelwell and widens as it follows the lower edge of the doors, resuming its arc again at the rear wheel.
The steeply-raked windshield provides an excellent view of the road. The sleek, new body houses a high-tech safety cage for construction, and businesslike touches to the driving controls.
Also, while every manufacturer may offer leather seats, no other vehicle has the same impressive scent of leather as Volvo. The seats themselves demand praise because they are comfortable and virtually assure you of fatigue-free driving. A neat touch is that the headrests are tapered, cradling your head in an added feeling of security.
Instruments are all typical of the Swedish car-maker, and an audio system with a disc player in the dash is above the heat-air switches. The audio is unnecessarily complex, with a 1-20 memory setting, and the disc changing knob on one side, and an identical knob next to it that can be pushed for scan, or turned to change frequency. If you’re on a trip and find a good station, you might push the knob to stash it as a memory stop, and you might instead have inadvertently hit the scan switch, losing your station forever. Similarly, you might want to change from FM to CD, but you hit the wrong button and get a change in radio frequency.
Sometimes Volvo tends to get a dose of its own over-engineering. You get two cupholders in the console, for example, and you can find a little spring-loaded vertical trapdoor in the dash that springs out to give you a third cupholder, in case the first two weren’t enough for the two front seat occupants.
The Cross-Country performs well, with a 2.4-liter, in-line 5-cylinder engine, made of aluminum, and boosted by a Mitsubishi turbocharger through those dual overhead-cams and four-valve-per-cylinder layout to give 197 horsepower at 6,000 RPMs and 210 foot-pounds of torque at 1,800 RPMs. The redline on the tachometer is 6,100 RPMs, and the turbo and variable valve-timing get you to peak torque at such a low reading — which means your takeoff is aided greatly.
A 5-speed automatic transmission has dual gates, so you can shift it manually, which is impressive both for maximizing acceleration or helping slow you down as you approach an exit or stop signal.
A tilting glass sunroof, foglights front and rear, a long aluminum handgrip for the passenger-seat occupant, and seat-heaters, all give extra quality. The Volvo, however, is not inexpensive, listing at nearly $43,000.
The unitized body lets the V70 live up to Volvo’s rich safety tradition, and while the vehicle obviously was not built to challenge the truck-based SUVs in off-road maneuvers, it does have 8.2 inches of ground clearance.
Wheels are 7 inches wide, mounted on 16-inch alloy wheels, which provide extra ground clearance.
The all-wheel-drive system in the V70 runs normally with 95 percent of available power going to the front wheels, with a viscous clutch transmitting as much of that power as necessary to the rear wheels when slippage is threatening. A stability system also automatically applies brakes on one side to shift poweer to the other side if it detects slipping.
The stately but secure feeling you get from a Volvo is amplified by all the features of the Volvo, and while it isn’t light, at 3,884 pounds, it is lighter than your garden-variety SUV. Plus, if skidplates and body-cladding doesn’t convince you the V70 XC AWD is a true SUV, just remember that it might be as smoothly satisfying a method for going “cross country” that you can find.
[[[[[[CUTLINES:
1/ The Acura MDX offers an entirely new way for Honda to approach the luxury-SUV marketplace.
2/ Inside the Acura MDX, the driver gets a feeling of luxury and control over any driving circumstance.
3/ The Volvo V70 XC AWD may have an unwieldy name, but it’s the ideal way to confront a snowstorm.
4/ Volvo’s redesigned V70 adds sleeker looks to the all-weather security of its top all-wheel-drive wagon.
5/ The scent of the leather seats in the Volvo V70 XC AWD is as enticing as the interior features are impressive.
A trip to Coleraine provides a no-frills experience of pure hockey
After 35 or so years of traveling around the state, around the country, and even around the world, to places such as Germany and Switzerland, to watch hockey games, I was caught off-guard on a live radio broadcast last spring when Mark Fleischer of WDSM asked: “What is your favorite hockey arena to watch a game in?”
I paused, but only briefly. “Hodgins-Berardo Arena in Coleraine,” I said.
That surprised a lot of people, and it even surprised me a little, because I had never pondered it before. Besides, if you truly like hockey, there’s no such thing as a bad hockey arena, just like there is no such thing as a bad hot fudge sundae. It’s just that some are better than others. There are better-known arenas, such as the Eveleth Hippodrome, which I love, and Cloquet’s new building, which, like Warroad’s Gardens, is almost too nice. Roseau, Hibbing and others also make the top 10 list, but let’s go to Coleraine.
The Hodgins-Berardo arena is a shrine to hockey. It is not fancy, luxurious or pretentious in any way. It’s a lot like the hardy people who live in on the West End of the Iron Range. What you see is what you get. Make the facility conducive to great hockey, and people will come to watch; give them a fancy place with lousy hockey, and they’ll stay home and watch an NHL game on cable. You don’t need luxury suites, spotlights, a darkened hall for introductions, or an announcer who ignores all elements of sportsmanship and/or good taste and screams for the home team. What you need are the basic elements, and the game should take care of the rest.
To get to Coleraine, you can drive up Hwy. 2 from Duluth, or you can take Hwy. 53 to Hwy. 169 and go back west on 169, and it goes right to it, or you can go to Grand Rapids and head northeast on 169. If you go up Hwy. 2, you should be alert for the Hwy. 10 cutoff in Warba, which goes directly into the easternmost tip of Coleraine — across the street from Bovey, and just down the road from Calumet and Marble. It’s only 7 miles from Grand Rapids, in the other direction.
Jimmy Hodgins and Jim Berardo were early hockey pioneers in the area. Berardo was better known as Chick Berardo when he was a goaltender who made it all the way up to the Detroit Red Wings, back in the early 1940s. So when the arena was built, right near Hwy. 169, it was named Hodgins-Berardo.
Based on my first trip to the arena, it could have been called Gernander-Antonovich Arena, because Bob Gernander was the coach and architect of a Greenway team that featured Antonovich as a 140-pound sophomore center who led the Raiders to two straight state championships back in the late 1960s. The Raiders never stopped trying, and now they again have one of the state’s elite teams. The coach is Pat Guyer, who also is manager of the arena, and, believe it or not, Chick Berardo’s nephew, and his sons, Gino and Andrew, are big parts of this team.
Take a trip to Coleraine, but arrive at the arena early, because fans start coming by 6 p.m. for a couple of reasons. They want to see the Junior Varsity game, and they want to get a preferred vantage point. That might be in the lobby area, where wide expanses of glass give a warm view from one corner of the rink, and you’re still in easy reach of the popcorn, hotdogs and Pizza Corner pizza at the concession stand. The hardier fans brave the elements.
It’s chilly inside by the rink, although there are those little overhead heaters that make a big difference. There are eight rows of bench seats, painted green and white, with a chest-high wall at the top. The traditional hard-core fans stand, and lean their elbows on that wall.
Natural wood beams crisscross to hold up the arched roof, and the opening for the Zamboni at one end of the boards is just right, and the Zamboni driver is experienced enough to simply duck his head to get under the above-glass netting designed to catch deflected pucks.
High above either goal — directly above — a goal judge sits solemnly, looking almost like an inmate in solitary confinement, or a tail-gunner in an early-vintage bomber. To get to their little rounded cubicle, they walk out through a long, narrow corridor to a spot located above the goals, and protected by heavy-gauge chain-link fencing. Deflected pucks can’t possibly reach them, and they’d probably be safe even from howitzers. Or at least anything the fans from Grand Rapids might throw their way.
On the end wall, a large, square clock is fastened. It appears to be a fragile, glass-faced clock, so, in a master stroke of efficiency, a large shield of heavy plexiglass is fashioned in front of it. You can tell the time, but you can’t break the clock.
That’s the way I remember Hodgins-Berardo Arena, and that’s the way it still is. I went there a few days ago, for a fabulous game between Greenway and Hibbing. Close, tough, but clean all the way, and even the public address guy seemed good-natured with his bellowing, although it comes dangerously close to being too modern-trendy.
Hibbing pulled its goalie and scored the tying goal with 53 seconds left. Greenway calmly lined up for the ensuing faceoff, and Gino Guyer calmly fired the puck into the Hibbing net 10 seconds later for a 4-3 victory. I was back in Duluth in an hour and a half. Great game, great atmosphere, great day-trip. And the popcorn is only 50 cents.
[[[[CUTLINES:
1/ The goal judge has a unique, safe view of the goal at the Hodgins-Berardo Arena in Coleraine. Note the plexiglass shield for the clock at left.
2/ Players and fans stood at attention for the National Anthem, knowing the game to follow would be pure, old-time, West Range hockey. ]]]]]]]
Take a drive to Bovey, but keep one eye on the surprising sky
You never know what you can see when you take a drive to some nearby Up North town. Even if it’s a town you’ve been to dozens of times.
There is nothing like a little drive to clear your head. It is a perfect time for introspection, and it seems as though you can solve all sorts of problems when you’re driving along in the isolation of your private vehicle.
Because I like to drive, I put a lot of miles on a vast assortment of different test vehicles. But the enjoyment never goes away, and there are always surprises awaiting you.
Maybe it’s a town you know well, maybe it’s one you’ve never been to. Maybe you haven’t lived Up North for that many years, and you’ve put off the chance to cruise to a nearby town and just take in the sights and sounds. Or maybe you’ve never heard of it.
How about Bovey, Minn.?
About a week ago, I was driving up to the West Range, that area of tiny towns linked near the western end of the Iron Range. Bovey was to be a stopover for a light dinner, although I didn’t realize how close I was to Bovey when suddenly I got a glimpse of something really unusual up ahead.
It was up just above the treetops, but now I couldn’t see it. I drove a little faster as I reached for my camera bag, on the rear seat floor, with the same controlled haste that an Old West gunfighter might have reached for his holster.
Rounding another curve, I got another glimpse. There was something weird, up in the sky, and it seemed to be coming down.
Could it be someone sky-diving with a parachute? Could it be a home-built aircraft? Could it be a prehistoric pterodactyl? Or maybe just one of those jumbo Up North mosquitoes that adorn souvenir t-shirts?
Finally, in the deeping sky near sunset, we got a good look at it. Some guy was riding a small device that looked mostly human, and part propeller and wheels, with a parachute above, sailing gracefully over what we should call suburban Bovey.
It was Doug Maki, flying his motorized parasail. He descended, crossing the highway ahead of us, just clearing the power lines along the highway, and coasted down, down, down to a landing on Trout Lake. Let’s call it frozen Trout Lake.
We pulled off to a rest area, where we were advised that the beach was closed. Too bad. We were thinking of climbing over the snowbanks and taking a dip in the ice and snow-covered lake. But we watched as Maki and a friend packed up the parachute after an afternoon of what must have been exciting — and awfully cold — flying around Bovey.
We turned onto Hwy. 169 to go through Bovey, and I saw yet another strange thing off on the horizon. It was flaming yellow-orange, and it appeared to be peeking over the trees atop one of the mine dumps, those ridges of taconite mine diggings adorning so many Range towns. We drove on through and crested the hill on the eastern end of Bovey, and there it was — a full moon.
Because it was only about 5 p.m., the sky was still so light from sunset that it created a particularly unusual sight, with the full moon seeming larger than real, rising in a sky that wasn’t yet totally dark.
We drove back into Bovey and stopped at the Good Time Pizza Café, not only a good place to eat, but one of very few places to eat between Grand Rapids and Hibbing.
It’s a friendly, comfortable little restaurant, split level, with sort of a mezzanine on one side. The day’s special was chicken fettucini Alfredo, although the daylong toll on the homemade chicken noodle soup left us fighting over, and finally dividing up, the last cupful.
A good high school hockey game down the road, in either direction, isn’t the only attraction in a West Range town, and the traditional hockey phrase — “Keep your head up!” — might be the best advice for seeing something special in the sky on a drive to Bovey.
Master of miniatures, Suzuki goes after full-size SUVs with XL-7
If you remember the Suzuki Samurai, then one drive — indeed, one LOOK — at the new Grand Vitara XL-7 will make you realize how far down the road Suzuki has traveled, both literally and figuratively.
The Samurai was a fun, inexpensive little beast that was very Jeep-like in aim. When young folks bought them and took them out on the West Coast beaches, and drove them like sports cars, they tended to flip over. Consumer Reports did a big study, and declared them unsafe, but when the pressure was on, the magazine admitted that it made them run through a slalom that was much tighter than for any other vehicle, causing it to become instable.
But the impact of the controversy hurt Suzuki, and killed the Samurai. Suzuki restyled its snub-nosed little SUV and renamed it the Grand Vitara, after making it longer, wider, more stable, and a bit more powerful. It enhanced its performance by offering a V6 engine as well as the basic 4-cylinder, and the Grand Vitara has sold well.
I recently test-drove a Grand Vitara with the V6 and it was impressive, if still a bit tall and susceptible to strong cross-winds on the freeway.
More recently, I got to spend a week with Suzuki’s latest upgrade, the XL-7 version of the Grand Vitara.
To read Suzuki’s information, you might think the XL-7 is a gigantic SUV, but in reality, Suzuki has been so outstanding in designing and building small overachievers — from its sensational motorcycles to cars like the Sprint and Esteem and Grand Vitara — that the XL-7 merely thrusts Suzuki into the compact SUV marketplace against the likes of the Honda CR-V, the Toyota RAV4, and the new Ford Escape/Mazda Tribute.
In this segment, the key ingredient, after effective performance, is price. The XL-7 starts at $20,000 in 2-wheel-drive form, and at $21,000 in 4-wheel-drive. Fully loaded, the top model comes with automatic transmission, sunroof and CD player, and lists for $25,094.
The Grand Vitara itself starts at $18,399 in 2-wheel-drive, and at $19,599 in the most base 4-wheel-drive form. Obviously, anyone in the Up North snowbelt who buys an SUV without 4-wheel-drive capability deserves the slippery, slithery problems that are awaiting.
BASIC DIFFERENCES
The XL-7 looks a lot like a Grand Vitara that has been stretched, and that’s pretty close to what happened in its development. Suzuki takes the Grand Vitara and stretches the wheelbase by 12.6 inches, and the overall length by 19.1 inches, and installs a larger V6 under the hood to create and equip the XL-7. That makes the XL-7 183.7 inches in length, which is 18 inches longer than the 2000 RAV4, 10 inches longer than the Escape/Tribute, and 6 inches longer than the CR-V.
Somehow, it doesn’t seem that large from a handling view, maybe because it has the same 70.1 inches of width. Its length seems to merely add stability, and provides 73 cubic feet of interior capacity with the second and third row of seats folded down.
That’s right — a third seat. The extra length means that the front bucket seats are comfortable and roomy, with the major improvement coming in second-row room. You could be pretty large and still find the second seat comfortable, even for a trip. The third row seat, however, is best used by kids, the smaller the better. Access to the second row, and even the third, is made easier because the rear doors are much larger, 12 inches wider at the top than its competitors, according to Suzuki.
What must be understood, though, is that while adults like a lot of room, and more as they get older, youngsters enjoy having a kid-sized seat. And that’s what the rear-most XL-7 seat is. That third seat is standard in even the most basic XL-7. Behind it, there is still some stowage room, and a cargo net. I left it folded down, though, for greater room to haul stuff.
The versatility of an SUV is what should be the major selling point, and the XL-7 means that Suzuki has a larger weapon, with more versatility, than its more-compact Grand Vitara.
The body structure is reinforced, with the same high-tensile steel used in the ladder frame applied to the three side pillars, and steel reinforced posts and side-impact beams offer further protection to the usual airbags that complement the seat harnesses. The front and rear crush zones and impact-dissipating bumpers.
Liquid-filled engine mounts eliminate vibration, and great attention to sound-deadening was paid in calibrating the suspension bushings.
In the Grand Vitara, the V6 is a 2.5-liter with dual-overhead-cams and 24 valves that turns out 155 horsepower at 6,500 RPMs and 160 foot-pounds of torque at 4,000. The XL-7 has an expanded 2.7-liter DOHC V6, all aluminum, also with 4 valves per cylinder, and its power output increases to 170 horses at 5,500 RPMs and 178 foot-pounds of torque at 4,000. It also uses a two-stage timing chain, instead of a belt, which eliminates the worry of replacement at about 65,000 miles. Separate coils over each spark plug eliminates ignition wires, too.
The bigger XL-7 weighs 3,703 pounds, and you can add 45 pounds if it has a sunroof, which the tester had. The power was well-suited to its size, however, and it performed very well in acceleration and had no difficulty holding 70 miles per hour on cruise control on the highway. Handling also was impressive, and while it seemed a bit twitchy in its quickness to respond to steering imput, it was predictable and precise once you got used to it.
Driving position is good, the instruments are easy to read, and the test XL-7 had a CD player and audio system that seemed bass-heavy no matter how you dialed it. The 4-speed automatic transmission is an option, and it has a second shift lever to lock it into 4-wheel-drive high and low, which is the device that separates vehicles actually meant to go off-road from the many pretenders. It can be engaged at any speed up to 60 mph.
The XL-7 has a 3,000-pound towing rating.
As for complaints, we continually found a weird fresh-air leak on the passenger side up front. That may be welcome in summertime, but it can be a problem when it’s 10 above. Changing the heat slides to allow fresh air in and engaging the air-conditioning with the heat turned up solved it, but all other positions seemed to vent refreshingly brisk air on the front passenger’s feet.
Also, Suzuki changed the rear-axle ratio to get more acceleration out of the XL-7, and may have compromised fuel economy in the process. Driven hard, the XL-7 got 18 or 19 miles per gallon, so taking it easy should allow you to reach 20 with ease. But I’d settle for a little less spunk off the line in exchange for 24 or 25 miles per gallon.
OUTSTEPPING THE TRACKER
One of the interesting collaborations in the auto industry is between General Motors and Suzuki.
Corporate giant GM had to make a tough decision a couple decades ago, on how to meet the market segment of efficient small vehicles with small engines. Of course, it wasn’t competition that drove this quest, so much as emission and fuel-economy rules. A company must average out the gas-mileage of all members of its corporate fleet, and for every small and efficient engine a company produces it may then build a huge, gas-guzzling engine for the much more profitable large vehicles and sport-utility vehicles.
To meet the challenge from Honda, Toyota, Volkswagen and other imports, Chrysler built the Neon, Ford downsized the Escort and then built the Focus, and General Motors created the Geo segment. Geo included vehicles built by Toyota (the Prizm), Isuzu (the Spectrum) and Suzuki (the Metro and later the Tracker). It was obvious GM calculated that it would be cost-effective to collaborate and use Japanese engines to take on Japanese imports.
So, it would fight the Toyota Corolla with the Prizm, which is a rebadged — and slightly altered — Corolla, and to challenge the micro-car segment with the Metro, which is a rebadged Suzuki Sprint. The Metro is a very good tiny car, with great fuel economy, and it first came with a 3-cylinder, 1-liter, single-overhead-camshaft engine right out of the Sprint. What the majority of Metro buyers didn’t realize is that the Sprint also came in a sensational souped-up version, with a larger, dual-overhead-cam, 4-cylinder and suspension and interior items that made it a GTI-version Sprint. Alas, that version is no longer available.
We all know what happened with the SUV craze, and GM is right up there among the leaders in the highly profitable large and middle SUV bracket, with the Suburban and Blazer, and various brand-specific spinoffs of them. And the Tracker met the demand for the smallest SUV.
The Tracker began life as a Suzuki Samurai, then turned into the larger and stronger Grand Vitara. The Tracker, which started as a Geo and then moved under Chevrolet auspices, became a rebadged Grand Vitara. It was a nice, little SUV, but underpowered, as was the first Metro. Suzuki, however, had kept a similarly neat little secret, and had a small V6 in the Grand Vitara, while offering only a 4-cylinder in the Tracker.
For 2001, the Tracker can be obtained with the Suzuki V6 for the first time. But Suzuki still has its uniqueness squirreled away in the new Grand Vitara XL-7, because, a Suzuki official told me, there are no plans to make the XL-7 available to GM.
[[[[[CUTLINES:
1/ Suzuki enters the “real-world” size SUV segment with the Grand Vitara XL-7, all-new for 2001.
2/ The XL-7 is basically an elongated Grand Vitara, with much more seat room, larger rear doors, and even third-row seating.
3/ Cargo capacity is good, with foldable second and third seats, and a roof rack that will hold another 100 pounds.
4/ Suzuki still makes the basic Grand Vitara, which is a strong-performing compact SUV, shorter by 19 inches than the XL-7.
About the Author
John Gilbert is a lifetime Minnesotan and career journalist, specializing in cars and sports during and since spending 30 years at the Minneapolis Tribune, now the Star Tribune. More recently, he has continued translating the high-tech world of autos and sharing his passionate insights as a freelance writer/photographer/broadcaster. A member of the prestigious North American Car and Truck of the Year jury since 1993. John can be heard Monday-Friday from 9-11am on 610 KDAL(www.kdal610.com) on the "John Gilbert Show," and writes a column in the Duluth Reader.
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