Over the last thousand years that I've been reading automotive magazines, I've lost count of the number of times that I've read a journalist's meanderings, and thought "You arrogant arsehole!". So, I'm not going to tell you how mine is such a difficult and demanding job - but I've had a Ferrari, two Porsches and a Maserati in my driveway this week (it's not true, anyway!); nor am I going to tell you how I've attended three interstate and one overseas new model launches in the last month - all travel paid for by the car manufacturers (another lie); and I certainly won't tell you how it's such a pain to have to read modified car magazines from the US, UK and Australia - just to keep up in my profession. After all, any sane car nut (that's not a oxymoron, is it?) would just love being subjected to these ardours.
But I might fall into the same trap just far enough to tell you a little about the new cars that I've been driving. If you've been reading our new car tests, you'll be familiar with the machines. And I'm not about to tell any off-the-record secrets about them here - we tell you about the cars (warts and all) in the tests. But there are some thoughts that don't meld so well into a structured road test but can be fitted into a column.
Firstly, forget the manufacturer's reputations. Well, let me qualify that. Certainly forget some of the aspects of a reputation. At AutoSpeed we approach every car with an open mind - if it's shit, we say so. If it's brilliant, we say that also. But even with that policy, you still can't throw every preconception out of the window. But you gotta be careful. In a weird way it reminds me of my previous occupation - a schoolteacher. Way back when I was doing my teaching degree, the Ed Psych guys and gals drummed a very important point into my head: if you treat a child as though they have a high IQ, they tend to live up to that expectation. And if, when testing a car, you try hard enough to feel a wonderful handling trait, or an impressive engine it'll probably be there too!
But there's no doubt in my mind that the Mercedes E320 that I drove at high speed had a lack of directional stability in a gusty crosswind closer - much closer! - to a darty old VL Commodore than any Teutonic paragon of tracking splendour; that the space utilization in the Daewoo Matiz was just outstanding; that the SS 5.7 litre V8 Commodore had so much more usable performance than any sub-$50,000 car that I have driven yep, including a WRX. (Remember, I said usable performance. That doesn't involve a full launch off every set of lights.)
It's a source of wonder to Dep Ed MK and me that we can drive a car for half a day, exchange views on the phone (something that happens frequently after we've each been given a new car to drive) and find total agreement. That the Peugeot 406 ST's auto trans was just horrible - God knows how it got out of the factory with that harsh throttle-off down-change - and how the Eunos 800M is just such a sorely-underrated car - especially at the paltry prices being paid for an example a few years old. The shared incredulity that comes from other magazines saying that the Peugeot 206 GTi has no throttle-off oversteer (were they driving it or sipping cappuccinos while they wanked over it?), or that the 5.7 Commodore lacks torque (maybe it does - compared with a bloody Mack truck).
When we have a new car to test we always make sure that a number of people ride - and often drive - the car. They don't say "The turn-in is a bit lacking at 150 in third" or "You know, I reckon that the NVH at 7000 rpm lets the car down" - instead, they comment on the look of the dashboard, or the amount of room in the back seat for a baby capsule, or the quality of the ride. In other words, it's awfully easy to go into wanker-bullshit-oh-God-I'm-a-motoring-journalist land, totally losing the plot from the perspective of the person who's actually gonna shell out the cash for the car. Mebbe that's best exemplified by the magazine that recently said that one major prob of the 3.5 Magna Sports is in the shape of the exhaust tips.
I have an enormous collection of car magazines, 'though I've never really actively built it up. It just kinda happened. To keep up with the contents, I cycle through heaps when sitting on the dunny. (The toilet, for our non-Australian readers!). Which means that I read lots about the ground-breaking Sigma, the stunning XD Falcon you get the picture.
One intriguing pursuit is to look through the new car prices. I don't bother looking at their magnitude, just their relative positions. So, in December 1976 an Alfa Montreal for A$17,490 doesn't sent me into raptures - at the prevailing weekly incomes, it sure wasn't a similar cost to a Daihatsu Charade that those dollars would buy today A more important question is - what else could then be bought for the same dollars? Well, here in Australia you could have got a 250 Mercedes Benz, a 265 Volvo Deluxe wagon - or for two thousand more, a 911 Porsche Coupe! Which would you rather have now? not the Volvo, that's for sure!
Once I owned a secondhand BMW 3.0si - a good car. And so it should have been - at $19,355 new. That's twice the price of a Datsun 260Z, nearly five times a Holden Gemini - and just the same price as a Jaguar XJ6. The most expensive car on the Oz market in '76? Leaving aside the largely-irrelevant Rollers and Bentley, it was a Mercedes 450SLC - even more expensive at A$34,471 than a Dino 308 GT4 Ferrari which was just A$31,055!
When I was about fourteen I used to relish reading the latest new car magazine. I'd read about the straightline performance, agree sycophantically with the all-pervading hatred of front wheel drive cars (I mean, who'd want that horrible understeer?), and nod knowingly with the view repeated every year before and since that Australian-developed cars were now a match for anything in the world. I didn't realise at the time that the requirement to express the latter view was a strong indicator of its lack of substance.
But what I could never understand was the in-depth discussion of steering. Journalists would talk about the feel, the precision, the speed of response. Some cars had wonderful steering; others terrible steering. I just couldn't figure it out. After all, you turned the rim of the steering wheel and the front wheels pointed in a different direction - what could be involved about that? To me all this discussion of steering seemed to be much ado about nothing. A bit like discussing at length the feel of the wiper switch, or going on about the weight of the bonnet release. It was all very strange.
And when I got my first car - a tiny FWD Honda Z - my perspective didn't change. You turned the rim of the wheel and the front wheels changed direction. Sure you could get to the point where turning the rim further made no change to the car's direction, but that was understeer - chassis stuff rather than steering stuff. And even when I graduated to my next car - an AlfaSud Ti - I still couldn't see much in this steering business. The Sud's steering was a bit heavier than the Zed's, but it was still just a case of point-and-go.
But then everything changed. I bought - secondhand as the other cars also were - a BMW 3.0si. Suddenly I had performance, brakes, roadholding - but no steering! The over-assisted power steering was vague, the aerodynamic lift generated by the body made the high-speed steering even worse, and there was never the precise feedback that I had taken for granted in my two previous cars. Now I knew why the journalists paid so much attention to apparent intangibles - they were real, after all.
And now, when I'm writing about cars for a living, it's the steering that often pre-occupies me. My own car - a '95 Audi S4 - is wonderful in most regards, except for the steering which is simply much more akin to the BMW 3.0si than the AlfaSud. You can't place the car with absolute precision through corners, there's not a roll-of-the-wrists instant response, and engendered is a faint lack of security when travelling fast. Contrast that to the Alfa 156 that you can almost think around corners. Mmmmm, "think around corners". That was one phrase that the fourteen year old Julian hated - just WTF did it mean?
To me it now means that the negotiating of a corner - preferably at speed - can be made without the conscious input of the steering wheel. There's no "I'll wind it on about here, er too much - maybe a little off, oops, missed the apex, wow, gotta wind it off fast here" that you get in some cars. I exaggerate? Not at all. Much of that corrective behaviour disappears as you get used to a car - in fact, it's easy to compensate for some poor steering traits. The Mitsubishi Magna, for example, has an overly slow turn-in - until I acclimatise myself, I need to take two bites with the wheel when entering sweepers. However a good friend who owns a Magna Sport (ironically he's also the owner of an AlfaSud Ti!) didn't even notice the trait - not until he briefly steered a few other similar-size cars then went back to the Magna to compare.
But while driver compensation can overcome some steering deficiencies, even then you're never behind the wheel of a car that steers beautifully. Instead, you just cope.
While the Alfa 156 - a sports car and all - is an example perhaps away from centre, the Peugeot 406 isn't. It's a base family car. And it steers beautifully. In fact, if you really want to feel what I am talking about, wonder along to your local Pug dealer and cadge a test drive. I haven't driven all of the range - pity, that - but the 206, 306 and 406 model vehicles all have superb steering. Don't concentrate on the suspension (always good too), seats (ditto) or engines (not so good); instead feel what happens when you input some steering rim movement. Wind it on and then wind it off: the car never goes further than you asked of it. Aim at a point on the road (eg a manhole cover) and steer to let one wheel just brush past it. Close, weren't you? Drive in a straight line. No, I mean, make only the tiny steering inputs needed to keep the car perfectly parallel with the centre line. Didn't need to do much, eh?
Steering is the single most important aspect of on-road dynamic behaviour. If it fails, you will run into things. If it is poor, you will become more rapidly tired, and perhaps also run into things. And - paradoxically - if it is wonderful, after a few days you won't even notice it. Until you get into another car and wonder if the front tyres have gone flat.
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