Blackwoods, King Ranch give Ford two new SUV alternatives
OnStar, Night Vision enhances Cadillac’s sleek DeVille DTS
[[[[[CUTLINES:
1/ Features such as OnStar and Night Vision mean the Cadillace DeVille never gets lost, even if the driver does.
2/ The Cadillac DeVille DTS has grown leaner and less boxy as its style catches up with its high-tech ingredients.
3/ Powerful headlights illuminate the road, but Night Vision highlights things, like this overpass, before they’re visible.
4/ A mama black bear checked out a dumpster for lunch near Red Lake, while her three cubs climbed high in a tree, working up an appetite. ]]]]]
How I got there is a story in itself, but there I was, driving along Hwy. 89 along the south shore of Red Lake in Minnesota’s far north, heading toward Grygla, on my way to Roseau. Now, Grygla isn’t all that big, but it’s got a gas station, which was all I needed at that time. A road-construction detour was NOT what I needed at that time.
It meant that I would be too late for a planned fishing excursion on Lake of the Woods, which became a minor detail compared to the risk that I might well run out of gasoline in a comparatively desolate area. The know-it-all computer readout had told me several miles earlier that I had less than 40 miles of fuel left, which didn’t bother me, because I wanted to run the Cadillac DeVille down near empty to get a valid fuel-economy read, and I knew that Grygla was only about 20 miles away.
The detour was neat. Flat, straight west, but neat. There were deep ditches on both sides, and a lot of prairie wildflowers as far as you could see in either direction. No towns, however, no convenience stores, no farms, no houses, no other vehicles. Just straight, flat country, on a beautiful sunny summer day.
It hit me right then that I was driving on borrowed time. I had never been on this road, had no idea how far the detour might go, or what might be ahead. So what are you gonna do, panic? No, that come later. Step 1 was to call OnStar.
OnStar is Cadillac’s slick global-positioning system with a voice attached. I pushed the little button on the mirror, I could hear the ring, and a pleasant young fellow answered. I identified myself and said I was doing a media test-drive of this particular Cadillac DeVille DTS, and I was familiar with OnStar from past tests, but I had never called it before under such serious circumstances. I told him I was on a quite obscure roadway up in some pretty barren country near the Canadian border, and he said, “Yes, you are.”
Of course, even though he was sitting in a nerve-center office in Detroit, he had me on his computer screen via satellite, so he could see precisely where I was. “You’re going westbound on Hwy. 1,” he said. I told him that meant he knew where I was a heck of a lot better than I did. I also told him I was almost completely out of gas, probably down to the last gallon, based on how long ago it had been that the minimum “40 mile” number came on my distance-to-empty readout.
“Let’s see,” he said. “My advice would be to keep going west on Hwy. 1 until you come to the intersection of Hwy. 219. Turn right on 219, and in about a mile you’ll come to a little town called Goodrich, and there is a gas station there.”
“How far away is Goodrich, would you estimate?” I asked.
“About 20 miles,” the voice said. “How far can you go before running out?”
“About 20 miles,” I said. “I appreciate the information very much, and if I call you back, it’ll probably not be with good news.”
I envisioned having to call again from the shoulderless shoulder, and General Motors then sending a black helicopter to pick me up. Or something like that.
I finally came to a couple of giant farms, then a cross road, but by then I had made sure the air conditioning was off, and all the windows were closed tight, and I set the cruise control on 60 miles per hour, to conserve every last fume of fuel.
After what seemed like an hour, I got to Hwy. 219. I turned right, if not holding my breath, then at least driving as if I were on eggs trying not to break the shells. C’mon, baby, get me thereÂ…And sure enough, we rolled into Goodrich, and there was a little gas station on the left side. Maybe it was my imagination, but I thought I felt the engine sputter once as I turned and eased off the road and up to the pump.
We filled the tank, then I got in and turned the key, but it wouldn’t start. It took two or three tries, and a couple pumps of the gas, and then it fired right up. Obviously, it hadn’t been my imagination; the DeVille had sputtered, and it virtually coasted up to the gas pump, stone dry.
Stupidity can take many turns. Driving beyond your capabilities in far-flung areas is not smart, even if I wanted to get the optimum gas-mileage test. But dumb luck can intervene at the strangest times to provide column material. By the way, I got 23.8 miles per gallon, which is world-class for a 4,047-pound luxury sedan. The 4.6-liter NorthStar V8 is tuned to deliver 300 horsepower at 6,000 RPMs, and 295 foot-pounds of torque at 4,400 RPMs, with a redline of 6,700.
The NorthStar has dual overhead camshafts with four valves per cylinder, and its power and performance pretty much renders all that GM stuff about their ancient pushrod engines as nothing more than PR flak.
Cadillac DeVilles have been coming our way since 1949, when the Coupe de Ville was introduced as the first pillarless 2-door hardtop, which was first refered to as a “hardtop convertible,” and won the first Motor Trend Car of the Year award, and also was a key ingredient of Chuck Berry’s legendary “Maybelline,” which undoubtedly was the first-ever car-oriented rock ‘n’ roll song, which pitted a Ford-GM duel, and the Coupe de Ville could rhyme with the top of the hill. The car grew up, as the best example of U.S. car theory that the biggest was the best.
That’s why a new era caused Cadillac to switch its highest technology to the sleeker Seville a decade or so ago, and it is gratifying to see that when Cadillac redesigned the DeVille — which now has two upper-case letters, incidentally — it has a much greater resemblance to the world-class Seville than to the old boxy earlier de Villes, which provided so much cushy comfort that its technology was almost obscured.
The new DeVille not only crams sophisticated engine and suspension technology inside, but it doesn’t at all compromise the comfort and luxury buyers will expect, even though it coaxes them into a sedan with suspension that is taut enough to provide exceptional handling with the car’s staunch performance.
All of that costs a bit, naturally. The base DeVille DTS lists for $46,267, which includes the fantastic OnStar communication system. As tested, the classy grey (graphite) car I drove listed for $51,672, because of all sorts of extras, including tire pressure monitor, comfort and convenience stuff, a 6-disc player, wood trim, and the $2,250 Night Vision option.
It turned out to be perfect timing. It was a week before the Fourth of July and I had a chance to visit true Americana in Roseau, while driving a 2001 Cadillac DeVille DTS — the latest high-tech sedan from the U.S. standard bearer of automotive excellence. Hockey has lured me to Roseau dozens of times over the years, but I had never followed the particular route I chose from the Twin Cities this time. The plan was to go northwest on Interstate 94 to Sauk Center, then exit on Hwy. 71 and take it all the way up through Bemidji, before linking with Hwy. 89.
Despite the sophisticated global positioning system, I didn’t bother linking with a prescribed route. How can you get lost going to Roseau, right? I’ll tell you how. I hit the first detour right near Sauk Center, then got back on course. After that, everything was perfect, up through Wadena, Menahga, Park Rapids, and on into Bemidji. It was so perfect that I kept right on a-goin’ past Blackduck, until I noted that the sign said something about International Falls being the next destination. Sure enough, I had blown the turn onto 89. No problem, I doubled back, knowing I was putting the fishing trip in jeopardy, and turned onto Hwy. 1 at Blackduck, circling the south side of Red Lake and merging with 89.
That put me in line for the second detour.
As it turned out, I got a chance to check out the other major gadget of the DeVille on the return trip from Roseau: Night Vision, which is only a little short of black magic on your windshield. A little infrared camera aims out through the circular area in the middle of the grille, which would be a perfect place for the Cadillac logo otherwise. The camera shoots down the road and plays back a live image that you can adjust to position on a screen superimposed on the lower part of the windshield. Driving at night, you see the road well lighted by your headlights and foglights, but at a glance you also can see things farther ahead than your headlights can reach.
As the accompanying photo, shot with an auto-focus digital camera at cruising speed, the headlights show the road ahead and the reflective highway speed and exit signs, but the Night Vision screen also shows an overpass bridge ahead before your lights or eyes could otherwise detect it. Pedestrians, deer, various other critters, and even curves in the road are displayed in negative-style reverse lighted images.
Clearly, the Cadillac DeVille DTS is worthy of a lofty price, and for consideration by any luxury car customer, because of its impressive performance and luxury features, including equipment like OnStar and Night Vision. With OnStar you can always find out where you’re going, and with Night Vision, you can see where you’re going even before you find out.
TT roadster, S8 sedan describe the realm created by Audi
[[[[[cutlines:
1A/ The Audi TT’s future-retro appearance gave it a phantom quality amid the fog-shrouded trees.
1B/ If the A8 is unexcelled for high-tech luxury, Audi’s new S8 emerges at the pinnacle as a sports-luxury cruiser.
2A/ Circles and cylinders recur in harmony throughout the TT’s stylish interior.
3A/ Revisiting Hwy. 61 along the North Shore put the TT roadster next to the harbor in Grand Marais. ]]]]]]]
There is no question when Audi took off on a steep, upward trajectory in U.S. car sales. It was when the A4 sedan was introduced in 1994. It is much more complex to track the numerous and varied expansions that have kept the German company on an ever-rising course as one of the world’s finest automobile companies.
But we can track the extent of Audi’s current domain, because I recently had the opportunity to drive the two best examples of how a company so committed to excellence in mainstream cars can also achieve it with a couple of amazing and far-flung vehicles.
I’m talking about the TT roadster, and the S8 sedan. Both are nothing short of mind-blowing.
In sedans, Audi sends its A4 over as its million-selling mainstream vehicle, ranging from $25,000-$32,000. Then it sends a larger, middle-sized A6, and a full-blown luxury car called the A8 — and all-aluminum gem that costs of around $70,000. After getting all those in place and upgrading them constantly, Audi offered a sport version of the A4 called the S4, which is one of my favorite — if not my favorite — single car in the world for both usefulness and fun.
Recently, Audi also built a sports version of the A6, called the S6, which gave the midsize vehicle new life with a twin-turbocharged 2.7-liter V6 that screams. I had heard and read about an S8 coming along, but I guess I never fully comprehended what could be done to upgrade and convert the A8 into a sports/luxury car until I got one from Audi’s test fleet.
While that might be the extremity of what can be done with a sedan, Audi also built some wagons of various sizes, but it paused in its tremendous run of successful vehicles to both reclaim the glory of past sports car racing Audis and to show that such a serious company also can have some flat-out fun. The result was the TT sports car, which came out as a coupe, and was later introduced as a roadster.
That TT roadster becomes the bookend at the other end of Audi’s realm, and here’s an overview of both extremities.
TT ROADSTER
Coming home from a ball game, I drove into downtown Duluth on a warm summer night, and even though I saw some lightning off in the distance, I wasn’t about to put up the top on the TT. I swung down around Canal Park — not cruising, you understand, because that would be far too childish; I was in quest of popcorn, and nothing beats the fresh hot popcorn wagon in Canal Park when you have the urge.
After gorging myself, I drove on up Lake Avenue and exited eastbound on the freeway. I went through the first of the tunnel system and suddenly was hit by one of those 11 p.m. cloudbursts. The rain pelted against the windshield, but in an instant I was inside the second tunnel. Instinctively, I reached back, grasped the handle on the leading edge of the stowed top, and yanked it up and over my head, twisting the grip and securing it in place at 40 miles per hour, and I was watertight before I got out of that second tunnel.
Now, I’m not recommending it, even though there was no traffic ahead or behind. It’s just that it’s safer to put the top up or down while stopped. As I said, though, I was acting impulsively and instinctively — anything in the name of thorough testing — and I proved that you CAN put the top up in under 3 seconds. Particularly if you’re driven by adrenaline.
You can probably find ways to have more fun without breaking the law than driving an Audi TT roadster, it’s just that I can’t think of any, offhand. I loved the TT coupe when it came out, but now that I’ve been exposed to the roadster, the coupe seems like it would have to be too confined.
I wrote before that you may love or hate the TT, but when you see one, you can’t take your eye off it, like a piece of modern art. And it will elicit an emotional response. It is a stubby block, with rounded, curving lines and corners that are both retro and futuristic at the same time.
You can get it with two versions of Audi’s superb 1.8-liter 4-cylinder engine. While some companies have been slow to go to single overhead cams, Audi not only has dual overhead camshafts on the 1.8, but each cylinder head has five valves, three intake and two exhaust, and it has a low-pressure turbocharger that coordinates with a highly sophisticated electronic engine management system to provide the best of both worlds — powerful performance and miserly economy.
I have driven the quattro version, with full-time all-wheel drive, and 225 horsepower tweaked out of that little four. It is very impressive. But I might prefer the TT the way the test car came, with “only” 180 horsepower, and “just” front-wheel drive. While less powerful, and lacking the quattro’s incredible stability, the FWD 180-horse version feels lighter, feels quicker-responding and quicker-handling. And in automobiles, perception is usually better than reality.
The test TT also has 173 foot-pounds of torque, and the magic of the turbo system is that it peaks at a mere 1,950 RPMs, and stays at full peak all the way to 4,700 RPMs, while the 180 horsepower peak ambles in at 5,500 RPMs, taking over the performance end just as the torque might start to let off.
With a 5-speed manual putting the power down, in a 2,921-pound roadster, you can get as much response as your right toe demands. Step hard, and it goes swiftly; step lightly, and you can get fantastic fuel economy. The EPA says 22 city and 30 highway, but I got 28.4 in combined city-freeway driving, and 32 on a strictly freeway shot from Duluth to the Twin Cities.
In a car that is so geared for pleasure driving, Audi has taken predictable pains to assure safety. An antilock brake system is augmented by ASR, which is anti-slip regulation to apportion more traction to the tire that isn’t slipping in a slippery situation. The fully galavanized body has exceptional stiffness, aiding the handling precision, structural reinforcements in side beams and high, arching aluminum roll bars above and behind each seat. That’s above and beyond the usual Audi collapsible, energey-absorbing structure.
The base sticker is $32,850, and adding a Bose premium sound system with a 6-disc changer, and a premium package that includes heated seats, Xenon high-intensity lights and 17-inch alloy wheels with high-performance tires, brings it up to $36,025.
But this isn’t an old MG, or a new Miata. The TT runs with cars like the Porsche Boxster, Mercedes SLK, BMW Z3, or Honda S2000. That’s in the summertime. In winter, with front wheel drive, the TT would run AWAY from all of them.
S8 QUATTRO
It is hard to imagine a car being better than the two kings of luxury, cost-is-no-object driving —-he S-Class Mercedes and the 7-Series BMW. But the A8 became a worthy challenger to both, and always had the Up North advantage of quattro all-wheel drive, plus the sophisticated all-aluminum frame and body that reminded A8 drivers that the only things around built that well were jet fighters.
When Audi developed, and then expanded, its 5-valve-per-cylinder technology to include the aluminum V8 in the A8, it seemed over-the-top as a luxury performer.
And all of that was BEFORE the introduction this year of the S8.
To achieve the S8, Audi took the all-aluminum space-frame body and the quattro, and found a way to fiddle with the intake manifolds, camshafts and valve timing and, sure enough, increased it from the A8’s 310 horsepower to an amazing 360 horsepower at 7,000 RPMs. That’s almost as many revs, stock, as a NASCAR racer turns at speed, and the S8 will run at those revs all afternoon.
Of course, NASCAR would never allow overhead cams, multiple valves, or all-wheel drive. Too modern, too sophisticated. And because you can’t run it on the race track, and there are no unlimited-speed autobahns in the U.S., Audi puts an electronic rev-limiter on the North American S8s at 155 mph.
You also have a lot of torque in the S8, with 317 foot-pounds peaking at a mere 3,400 revs, which means that with a Tiptronic 5-speed automatic transmisison, you can launch the 4,068-pound S8 from 0-60 in 6.3 seconds.
The Tiptronic uses a Porsche-patented shifter that allows you to upshift or downshift with a spring-loaded touch and no clutch.
From the outside, there are only subtle little badges to denote the S8 from the A8. Unless you notice the special cast alloy 18-inch wheels. Less noticeable is the sport suspension made of all aluminum, which lowers the stance of the car 20 mm, while 30-percent stiffer spring rates and shock absorbers with 40 percent greater compression, and thicker stabilizer bars conspire to get you through the tightest turn with flawless precision.
Increased brake size and an electronic differential lock distributes optimum torque to any of the four wheels with most traction, while ESP — electronic stabilization program — monitors stability and intervenes unnoticed to coordinate the traction control and antilock brakes to counter any tendency to oversteer or understeer.
The extremely solid space-frame body also has eight built-in airbags, with two front, two in the front side and two in the rear seatbacks, plus a head-level side airbag system running the length front to rear on either side.
Inside, Audi has combined grey bird’s-eye maple trim inlays with something called “Valcona” leather and “Alcantra” stuff that is sort of a suede-feeling material, and coated every surface from seats to console, doors and even the ceiling.
Headlight washers, a rear fog/rain light, high-intensity foglights, and defoggable side mirrors are among other standard features, as is the Bose audio with its 6-disc changer, and 14-way motion with memory on the front seats. All that and the trip computer are standard for $72,500.
The leather and Alcantra trim, plus a premium package with heated rear seats, the built-in, expandable ski stowage bag, and power rear and side sunshades that come up to line the windows, are options that boost the final price to $78,975.
That maybe too expensive to even comprehend for a car, but if something has to stand out as the best performance-luxury car on the market, the price is understandable.
Antique car show ignites the urge to get a true classic moving
[[[[cutlines:
1/ Normal traffic flow was interrupted last week by a classic car show between Lake Avenue and 2nd Avenue East on Superior Street.
2/ The 1960s didn’t seem so old when measured by a flawless Corvette Sting Ray coupe.
3/ A familiar 1969 Shelby Mustang missed the show and headed off for a mechanical freshening.
4/ Head on, a mid-1960s Corvette looks more futuristic than most new cars. ]]]]]
It was with great concern that I watched as my pride and joy for three decades was loaded onto a flatbed truck and hauled to a trusted mechanic’s shop for refreshening last week.
The car is a hybrid of two great and classic autos — a 1969 Shelby Mustang, and a 1970 Boss 302 Mustang. The brief history is that I bought the Boss 302 new, unloaded it from the train personally, because my young family was heading off on a three-week driving vacation to auto races at Mosport in Toronto, Bridgehampton on New York’s Long Island, and St. Jovite in Quebec.
Three years later, with the car in perfect tune but custom-painted, I got hit from behind by a sleepy driver in a large truck. Fortunately I saw him coming, at 55 miles per hour and about 25 feet from my rear bumper, in time to do a 50-foot burnout before he nailed me. The rear was a mess, totaled.
By sheer luck, I found a 1969 Shelby that had been treated rather poorly, bought it cheap and had a hot-rod mechanic in the Twin Cities do the transplant. Instead of the 351 Windsor engine that looked good but was underpowered, I wound up with my own 315-horsepower Boss 302, with its chassis, wide-spaced competition Hurst 4-speed transmission, and sophisticated suspension with Koni shocks all around.
Then I had it painted by a fellow nicknamed “Peanuts,” a legendary custom painter in White Bear Lake. He put on four coats of black, then four coats of pearlescent white over the black, taking great pains to put eight coats of the white where the Shelby’s stripes should be. Then he put eight coats of cobalt blue over the whole thing, and topped that with three coats of Imron, the car-painter’s plastic armorplating. The result was a one of a kind car, and the stripes gleamed through the blue from the depths of his artistry.
Years passed, and I drove the Boss/Shelby less and less, refining and retuning the engine completely, 10 years back. But as new-car test drives mounted, the Boss/Shelby sat idle. I turned down several impressive offers from folks who knew of my prize. But this was a car that loved to be driven, and craved to be driven hard, performing best when blipped to its formidible limits.
The last few years, however, I didn’t even take it out from under its protective tarp in my garage, despite urgings from eager sons to drive it, and from a less-eager wife to sell it so we could put that garage space to better use.
Three different factors collaborated to cause me to get it going in the past week. One was that moving from your home means moving everything, including whatever prizes you may have in your garage. Another was the consuming guilt of having “abused” my pet vehicle by not driving it hard enough, far enough — or at all, for too long. And the third was last week’s Classic Car show on Superior Street.
There were a lot of neat cars there, parked on either side of Superior Street for two blocks. But to me, by far the most impressive was a mid-1960s Corvette Sting Ray coupe that was parked right across from the Coney Island joint, just past 1stAvenue East.
A lot of the cars were impressive, and many of them had passers-by gathered for a closer look, but I was in a hurry, so I walked briskly through them all with a hasty overview. Until I got to the Corvette. I don’t know my ‘Vettes well enough to know whether it was a 1964 or 1965, but it was awesome, whichever it was.
There was a nice 1969 Mustang next to the Vette, but it had some sort of supercharged drag-racing motor. Too bad. Also some fine antique cars, and a couple of great street rods. There was even a Plymouth Prowler with a giant No. 3 on the door, and a replica of Dale Earnhardt’s signature. Give me a break! Earnhardt is a Chevy guy, who probably got paid contractually to never drive a Mopar, to say nothing of a Prowler. Put the 3 on a Monte Carlo, or let it rest.
I kept coming back to the Corvette and checked it out from every angle. Corvettes have gotten bigger, heavier, bulkier, then slimmer again to reach the high level of sophistication enjoyed now. But if Chevrolet had never issued the Sting Ray model, and brought it out as an all-new vehicle next year, it would look like the best and most futuristic Corvette ever. That’s impressive.
All of the other cars were old. Nice, well done, but old cars. Only the Sting Ray looked futuristic in style and class. I realized then that my Boss/Shelby, parked back in the Twin Cities, had that same ageless, timeless characteristic. If it was ready to go, it would have ranked right up there as maybe the most dazzling car at the show, and it certainly would have gathered a crowd — especially when true car fanciers got a peek at that Boss 302 engine.
So I hustled on back to the Twin Cities, but I soon realized that it would take more than a lengthy battery charge to get the Boss/Shelby fired up. So I summoned the flatbed, and off it went, to meet with my favorite Twin Cities mechanic.
Hoses were shot, some electrical stuff needs refurbishing, the brakes might be stubborn about functioning, and the carburetor gasket seems to have gotten brittle enough to ignore its duty. I got a call from Paul, the ace mechanic at Automotive Services in Maplewood. “I got it running,” said Paul. “But it’ll take a bit of work to get everything fixed up.”
Go for it, Paul. I get a chill thinking about the exhilaration that comes from stepping on the gas, feeling the surge of power, and hearing that Boss motor rev until it whistles. My wife knows that when we get it going, we can sell it, but I know when it gets going, I won’t want to.
Volvo’s new S60 packs luxury, technology into stylish new shape
[[[[[CUTLINES:
1/ The new Volvo S60 styling matches the company’s traditional smooth-sailing performance.
2/ High-tailed rear aids the S60’s aerodynamics and sporty look, to say nothing of trunk space.
3/ Everything is in place in the Volvo S60 interior, always a secure and comfortable setting. ]]]]]
Who knows why automobile companies nickname their models by creature, numerical pattern or computer-selected-nonoffending symbols? Volvo has all sorts of reasons for naming its new sedan the S60, which is significant to me because it both reminds me of the ’60s and provides full evidence of how far the Swedish car-maker has come from the ’60s.
The 1960s were both aggressive and progressive in the United States, whether you’re talking politics, shocking social issues, coming to grips with racial inequities, rock ‘n’ roll music, or automobiles. Hot cars were everywhere, and they got hotter right on into the 1970s, when they coughed and sputtered to a halt because of nasty emission laws forced onto the industry.
As it turns out, it was better for the cars to choke than for the people, but that’s another issue, which may not yet be resolved.
Last week, I wrote about owning a racy Mustang Boss 302 which ended up transplanted into a Shelby body. That was as progressive and aggressive as the auto world could be, at that point and possible since. But right before I bought that 1970 Boss 302, I owned a 1968 Volvo 142, a squarish 2-door, that was about as conservative as the auto industry could be at that point, but one with electric overdrive on top of the four-speed stick, and with Koni adjustable shock absorbers and a few other touches, it handled well and performed at a level higher than Volvo’s stodgy image for safety might allow.
That backdrop is interesting now. My mom actually owned a 1966 Volvo 122, also a 2-door, but one with rounded lines. That car was fairly bullet-proof in any accident scenarios, and while the Europeans were ‘way ahead of the rest of the world when it came to safety, Volvo was at the forefront, building the closest things to crush-proof vehicles up through the 122. In 1967, Volvo switched directions, and the 140-series (142 for the 2-door and 144 for the 4-door) became the new theme. Instead of rounded shapes, the 140 series was square, and instead of being crush-proof, it was crushable on purpose — designed with collapsible, energy-absorbing front and rear sections, but maintaining a crush-proof occupant compartment.
That Volvo 142S served our young family well, and will always be remembered. Volvos continued to be squarish, both in design as well as social degree of sophistication, for three decades. Back then, Volvo wouldn’t consider building a front-wheel-drive car, siding with Mercedes in favoring front engine/rear drive layouts. Another factor was the stubbornness of the Swedish industry: Saab made only front-wheel-drive cars, so Volvo, trying to be the upscale Swedish company, wasn’t about to acknowledge that its prime, and only, Swedish rival had anything going.
Flash forward now, to a new century for the world, and a new world for Volvo. The Swedish car-maker gets its financial guidance from Ford Motor Company these days, but, just as it has done with Jaguar and other newly acquired smaller and more specialized marquees, Ford has left affiliate Volvo to its own considerable devices for building cars.
The recent introduction of the renamed S80 luxury Volvo and the S40 basic models really shocked me. Both were redesigned with stunning, contemporary looks, and with rounded off lines and a streamlined roof silhouette that did away with that square image — which was left to the mid-range S70 in recent years. What surprised me most of those two cars was that the S40 seemed to offer luxury car features and feel at an amazingly low sticker price of $23,000. I honestly guessed it would be about $40,000 before I saw the sticker.
Now I get a load of the new S60, and I am surprised and impressed all over again.
The S60 is the new mid-range family hauler, maintaining all of Volvo’s noteworthy assets for safety and security, while also offering contemporary good looks and impressive handling and agility.
One look, and your first impression is that Volvo must have kidnapped someone from BMW to design the S60.
If the second look is at the sticker price, you are again surprised and impressed. I guessed it would be mid-$30,000 range. The sticker was $30,300. Now, that’s high enough for most U.S. customers, even those of us in the snow belt. But the real surprise comes when you scrutinize the sticker more and find that you could deduct things such as the automatic transmission ($1,000), the CD player,sunrof, leather power-seat package ($1,825), metallic paint ($400), and you could work your way on down to the base price of $26,500, which would still buy you a heckuva car and be among the world’s automotive bargains.
FRONT-WHEEL DRIVE
While vaulting from the past into the future with its new designs, Volvo also has conceded the obvious advantages of front-wheel drive. In fact, all Volvos are now FWD, except for the Cross-Country wagons, which are all-wheel drive.
All-wheel drive is obviously the supreme for foul-weather traction. But short of that, front-wheel drive can get you anywhere, during any weather, because the entire car simply wants to follow where the front-drive wheels are aimed.
Some aging purists still maintain you have to have rear-drive to have true performance feel, but having test-driven virtually everything driveable, and realizing the northern climate’s imposing threats, there is no situation where front-wheel drive can be outperformed by rear-drive vehicles, regardless of the sophistication of current stability and traction-control devices. Naturally, having the weight over the drive wheels is the ultimate advantage.
Acknowledging that, my only criticism of the Volvo S60 is that its performance is less than scintillating in off-the-line acceleration. The test car came armed with the 2.4-liter 5-cylinder engine. Five cylinders seems strange, although Audi used to use five cylinders in its mainstream sedans. An interesting thing about engineering is that four-cylinder engines have a harmonic vibration that can’t be avoided as the revs build up. Somewhere between 0 and 6,000 RPMs, there will be a vibration. Counter-balance shafts to offset and neutralize the vibration has gained popularity in recent years. In-line six-cylinder engines, meanwhile, are inherently smooth all the way up, although they compromise their smooth power for economy, and for the matter of housing their length in transverse applications.
So a five-cylinder is a good compromise. In the Volvo, the five doesn’t vibrate a bit. In costlier models, Volvo turbocharges the five, and it is extremely swift. Taking the turbo off it, though, removes the jump. It still runs very well at cruising speed, and it has adequate passing force, but off the line, the normally aspirated S60 is not what you’d first think about when you hear the term “drag race.”
Still, low-end torque is an American concept. In the U.S., a lot of buyers only think about quick take-off when they think about performance, while the rest of the world’s drivers and manufacturers are more concerned with having potent high-speed capabilities after moderate take-off. So the S60 might be more advanced and sophisticated than a lot of U.S. drivers. If you can’t outdrag your neighbor’s Bonneville, you can cruise effortlessly through the 5-speed automatic in the kind of comfort you more associate with cars costing over $40,000.
The 2.4-liter engine has variable valve-timing and turns ut 168 horsepower at 5,900 RPMs and 170 foot-pounds of torque at 4,500 revs. The 5-speed automatic has adaptive shift logic to adapt to your driving style, and winter mode settings for optimum traction.
Also, the S60 delivered 28 miles per gallon in combined city-freeway driving, making it a reasonably priced luxury car that could run with some of the best economy sedans.
CREATURE FEATURES
The obvious assets of the S60 are the seats, the driving position and the safety characteristics. You have the unibody construction with high strength steel in the passenger safety cage, with collapsible front and rear sections to absorb the energy of a crash. If the agility of the car’s steering and suspension fails to allow you to duck the ill-handling beast that is going to crash into you, the S60 has two-stage front airbags to complement the vehicles 3-point safety harnesses — five of them, for front and rear — plus side impact front airbags and inflatable curtain side impact head protection, and whiplash protection front bucket seats.
Going back to 1968, I was at a red light on a street in downtown St. Paul when I looked in the rear view mirror and saw a young man roaring up behind me with a hot car. In a flash, I realized he had no chance to stop on the wet street surface. I had an instant to brace myself before he crashed into the rear of my Volvo S142. He did considerable damage, but after evaluating it, I went back to the car and noticed that the backrest of the driver’s seat had dropped back about six inches — succeeding just as advertised in offsetting the whiplash.
That was 1968, so we will accept without further testing the validity of Volvo’s claim that it has improved on its anti-whiplash technology.
Volvo brakes always have been among the world’s standards. Back in 1968, Volvo offered two complete brake systems, each operating the two front and one rear wheel, with four-wheel discs. The new S60 has advanced all that, with the four-wheel discs, antilock, and an electronic brake distribution. The front independent strut suspension has stabilizer bars and antidive geometry, and the rear suspension is a fully independent multilink set-up mounted on an alloy subframe.
All of that means those all-season tires on those neat alloy wheels stop and turn as well as they go.
Fold-down rear seats, a huge trunk, expanded by the aerodynamically sound high-tail rear end and trunklid, and heat/air vents in the main side pillars are other nice touches. Dual-zone front climate control settings, keyless entry, power windows, heated outside power mirrors, dust and pollen filters, and an audio system with six speakers and a big amplifier also are all standard.
That equipment comes at the $26,500 price. When you add leather seats, power sunroof, the CD player, the S60 goes from an exceptional automotive bargain to an impressive luxury sedan.
If you want one last high-tech, ultra-sophisticated touch, consider this: The S60 has a coating on the radiator that helps transform ground-level ozone into oxygen, as you drive. Think about it. Sure, you use up some fuel as you drive, but as the front end of your S60 funnels the airstream into the grille, the car actually cleans up the ozone and converts it to oxygen!
The test car was a neat Cosmos blue metallic, but maybe all Volvos should be green. Come to think of it, my 1968 Volvo S142 was green.