Steering feel is important

Today was a rare day (during these times) I had to physically go to work, so I borrowed my brother’s car for the commute. With COVID-19 still running wild in these streets - despite what the massive protests may look like - I was not about to get on a bus full of people. Nothing again the people on buses; you simply can’t properly socially distance inside one. Even UBER or LYFT isn’t that safe, since you’ve no idea who the previous riders are, if they’re asymptomatic of the coronavirus or not. I think those of us lucky enough to have a choice of commuting with a private car are going to opt for that over the other options for the foreseeable future.

Had my brother not gotten laid off from his job due to the quarantine and therefore leaves behind a car for me to drive, I probably would have purchased another car by now to get me to work.

His car is a lovely Audi A3, 2018 edition, which honestly is a bit of a letdown compared to my weekend toy of a 911 GT3. Granted, I’m not a snob about these things: cars serve a purpose, and for the tasks of getting you from point A to point B, dull and boring is quite okay. So long as the car is a comfortable place to be, which is the A3 is. What I can’t overlook however - as soon as I turned the wheel around the block - is how awfully numb the steering is. There’s almost no feedback, as if I’m controlling the car like one does in a racing game with a wheel controller. I think my family’s Hyundai Tucson has more steering feel than the A3, which is a great shame.

Not even superb Michelin Pilot Sport 4S tires can save the experience.

Of course, I’m merely nitpicking here, because as a commuting tool the Audi A3 suffices perfectly. If it were my own money, I’d probably get something with slightly more feel in the steering. It doesn’t have to drip with feedback like the rack in the 911 GT3, but I would prefer at least some sensation on what the front-end is doing at a given time. Barring a reputation for good steering feel, my next car purchase for a daily-driver - should it come to that - must involve a test-drive. Numb, lifeless steering is probably a deal-breaker.

If a Hyundai SUV can provide some semblance of feel, other cars and manufacturers really don’t have an excuse.

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One into four.

2018 Audi A3 impressions

Recently my brother traded in his Volkswagen GTI for a 2018 Audi A3, and I got have a brief go in the new-to-him car. Here are some quick thoughts on the entry-level Audi machine, though I’ll caveat my opinions with the fact that my views are incredibly colored by the fact I drive a 911 GT3, the preeminent sports car, so the potential to misjudge a compact luxury sedan with some sporting intentions is quite high. Anyways, here goes.

The first immediate complaint is that the seating position is far too high. My brother’s A3 has the optional sports seat for the driver, and while its comfortable and supportive, it doesn’t go down nearly far enough - the stock seats of the front passenger can go lower, which is just baffling. I’m only 5’10” on a good day, and with the seating position adjusted properly, my hair is brushing the ceiling. I had more headroom in my old Mazda ND MX-5!

The A3’s 2.0-litre turbocharged four-cylinder, ubiquitous within the entire VW group portfolio, offers decent punch and adequate passing power; it makes the car a solid urban runabout with the occasional fun sprinkled in. I was able to zip in and out of traffic with ease. The motor obviously doesn’t make the most entertaining noise, emitting the same dull growl that all other turbo four-poppers make. Coming from the mighty atmospheric GT3, it’s indeed a bit of a let down, and so is the meager redline of barely 7,000 RPM. Gunning through the gears in the A3 for the first time, I almost didn’t upshift in time because I’m so used to having an engine that revs to 9K.

Main reason my brother switched from the GTI to the A3 is for the transmission: at a ripe old age of 21 years, he’s already tired of the manual transmission (someone take his car enthusiast card away, honestly) and wanted out into an automatic. The DSG dual-clutch unit in the A3 proves to be as advertised: the shifts are rapid, and its slow manners are super smooth (it even imitates the off-brake creep forward of a traditional automatic gearbox). It’s definitely engineered towards an economy bent, however: at anything less than full spirit throttle, the DSG will acquiesce to minimizing emissions such as letting the engine rev-hang before snicking over to the next gear, and upshifting to the highest gear as quickly as possible.

Armed with an all-wheel drive system, the A3 never lacks for grip, though the reactive Haldex differential is not an ideal situation. Again, it’s a luxury sedan with some sporting intentions, rather than a pure sports sedan, so the all-wheel drive system is designed towards efficiency, rather than maximizing lap times. Under normal situations ,the A3 feels like a front-wheel drive car because indeed only the front-axle is getting power. It’s not until under certain conditions does the computer activates the Haldex differential and sends power to the rear. I could feel this happening, too: punching the A3 off the line there’s a definite pause because the rear-axle hooks up.

None of this is to say the A3 is a bad car; I can even live with the slightly high seating position. One aspect I cannot excuse, however, is the utter lack of steering feel, a sort of achilles heel of Audi products, even on models as focused as the R8 supercar. The A3’s rack is responsive and direct enough as most modern electric assisted units are, but there’s really no feel at all. I have zero idea what the front tires are doing, and road imperfections gets utterly filtered out. I intentionally ran the car over some cat’s eyes and I couldn’t feel a thing in my hands.

Even though they are built on the same MQB chassis and shares the same engine, I reckon I’d take the GTI over the A3.

Not sponsored by Chanel.

Audi RS6 Avant is coming to America

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Photo credit: Audi

Fast wagons are awesome. They retain the handling sensibilities of a sports sedan, but offers up the cargo capabilities of a sports utility vehicle. They are the prototypical ‘one car to do everything’; provided you don’t go off-road.

But there’s a problem: fast wagons don’t sell well in America. In fact, wagons of any speed sell horribly here in the States, especially if it isn’t a Subaru Outback. The Cadillac CTS-V Wagon was a sales failure, and the Jaguar XF Sportbrake S can currently be found on a dealer lot for many tens of thousands off sticker. Car enthusiast professes undying love for the long-roof, but we tend to buy them used. It’s a self-perpetuating cycle where we clamor for wagons, automakers make them available, but then we wait to buy them used, which does the manufacturers no good, so they stop selling.

Which explains why samples of a fast wagon like the CTS-V can fetch decent sums in the used market: there simply weren’t that many of them made.

One manufacturer seems to buck the trend, despite the negative headwinds against wagons: Mercedes Benz. The German automaker have continued to produce the E63 AMG wagon and made it available here in America. Apparently, sales are relatively solid: my local dealership has rows of them on the lot, and those cars wouldn’t be taking up precious floor-plan if they couldn’t sell quickly. The E63 AMG wagon and the Volvo’s excellent V90 wagon are just about the only two fast wagon options on this side of the pond; the latter of which sells in such small number, that it’s special order only.

Audi, arguably the originator of properly fast wagons (see the Porsche-developed RS2), have notoriously resisted bringing their RS-badged long-roof wonders to America. We never got the RS6 or the RS4 in Avant (Audi-speak for wagon) form, and I honestly don’t blame Audi: there’s no business case for such a superbly low-volume segment.

Until now. It seems Audi wants a piece of the fast wagon pie Mercedes is eating, so the forthcoming 2020 Audi RS6 Avant will (finally) be available for the American market. It is great news indeed, and to all you petrol-heads that claimed you’d buy an RS Avant immediately if Audi brought it here: time to put up your money.

At first glance, the new RS6 Avant looks rightfully angry, with crazy aero bits flanking the lower region on all four sides. There’s the prerequisite bulging box fender flares as well. A Q-ship this is not, though I’d contend fast Audis were never the visually understated weapons that Mercedes AMG cars are. It’s not the extroversion of a Lamborghini, but Audi RS cars definitely make their presence felt. If I were buying this RS6, however, I’d opt for the black-out trim just to tone down the exterior a tad.

What was immediately striking to me about the new RS6 Avant is how enormous the wheels are: 22 inches in diameter on the options (as pictured), and 21 inches as standard. Indeed the set looks spectacular, but I’m skeptical of its function in actual use. Super grippy low-profile tires in that sizing are horrendously expensive, and in America’s pothole-ridden streets, potential owners better opt for the wheel and tire insurance. Wheels on modern fast cars have simply grown too huge: I think the 20 inch set on my GT3 is already overkill. I’d rather have a smaller diameter wheel with a cushier sidewall tire.

It’s a good thing then the new RS6 Avant comes standard with air suspension, because those thin tires certainly won’t help ride comfort at all.

No need to look at the stats: surely the RS6 Avant will be more than adequately fast, nimble, and comfortable akin to its competition the Mercedes-Benz E63 wagon. The single most important question that Audi will need answered, is will this fast wagon sell in an appropriate amount here in America. Don’t let us down, rich people.

Apple CarPlay is a must-have

As a proper enthusiast of on the car variety, a vehicle’s infotainment is near the bottom of my concerns. How much power a car has got and how it handles into a corner is the primary interest. It’s the oily bits that counts; a car could have the crappiest stereo system in the world and I wouldn’t have cared less. Who needs amazing music when the song from the engine is ever so melodious.

That was then; as I’ve grown older I’ve come to appreciate a nicely done car stereo. When leasing the Hyundai Tucson for my family a few months ago I elected to get the trim with the upgraded stereo, and every time I’m in the car I marvel at how awesome the sound is. Of course, an SUV isn’t the type of car to offer any driving enjoyment, therefore the quality of the interior is further up on the importance scale. Nevertheless I got spoiled; in my next car(s) I definitely will tick the better sound system option.

Along with that there’s one killer app that is an absolute must-have: Apple CarPlay. I’ve been an iPhone user since the 4 came out on Verizon, and having used CarPlay in various cars of not my owning, it’s simply amazing. CarPlay the most easiest and best possible way to integrate the data from an iPhone to car: music, maps, contacts; all it takes is a singular USB cable. Honestly all automakers have to do is provide a quality touchscreen screen in an appropriate size.

And they have: thanks to Tesla outfitting the Model S with a 17-inch display on center console to control just about everything, established manufacturers have hurried to copy. The latest Audi cars is almost entirely screen: the instrument cluster is a screen, the infotainment is a screen, and the climate controls are on a screen. Thanks to Tesla, physical buttons appears to be a thing of the past in new luxury cars. Even most mainstream cars have at least a 7-inch touch display at the center.

What automakers haven’t been so good at is actually offering Apply CarPlay, and I’m primarily talking to you, Toyota and Mazda. (And somewhat you too, BMW: charging a subscription to use CarPlay? Get the F out of here.) I would be bombing the backwoods in a Toyota 4Runner TRD Pro for years now had Toyota simply implemented CarPlay in the venerable SUV. It’s only this year that Toyota and Mazda have started implementing the function in their respective new cars.

A word to automakers: I’m not buying a car from you if it hasn’t got Apply CarPlay ability. Full stop.

All screen everything

Touch your cars

Due to the hazardous smog from the wildfires, I wasn’t able to go outside much during the Thanksgiving week break. Despite threat to lungs however I did make it out to the annual San Francisco auto show at the Moscone Center. It thankfully rained on that Wednesday so the air quality wasn’t too awful, but it rendered the manufacturer test drives a bit moot. A Jaguar F-Type is nice and all, but being stuck in downtown traffic in the wet isn’t the best representation of a driving a proper sports car.

Shame; I really wanted to try the Alfa Romeo Giulia Quadrifoglio.

Nevertheless it’s been a few years since I’ve last gone to show, and combined with the fact I’ve been car-less since May, I was decidedly eager to be around automobiles again. New car smell may be poisonous but it’s intoxicating all the same.

I was most looking forward to touching the surfaces: the various contours on the outside, and the materials on the inside. The 10 years ago me would’ve been aghast at the thought of laying a finger on any part of a car that doesn’t involve actual operation; can’t risk scratching the paint or leaving oil marks on interior panels. I was obsessively compulsive like that, though that has changed. These days I highly encourage the tactile pleasure from interacting with the materials of a car: the smoothness of the paint, the industrial cold of metal trim, or the soft warmth of leather.

Because why rob myself of that experience simply because I want to preserve that last bit of perfection, which itself is a Sisyphean task short of placing a car in a hermetically sealed, climate-controlled box. Cars are meant to be driven and used, and the patina that comes from wear is to be honored and displayed proudly.

So I attacked all the surfaces presented to me at the auto show, and I came away with a one big realization: I can’t buy a car that isn’t from a premium or luxury brand any longer. The interior experience offered by brands like Audi or Mercedes Benz is leagues above mainstream marques like Ford or Toyota. The difference in quality of materials and how it feels to the hand is stark. You are pampered in a Range Rover, compared to merely functional inside a Honda Pilot.

Of course one would pay dearly for that privilege, but I think it’s well worth the price premium. The inside of a car is the part you interact with the most (as you sit for hours in traffic) so why not make that time spent as best as possible. Pay up for that open-pore wood trim, the Alcantara headliner, and the sound system with too many speakers.

Willing to pay for superfluous and vain extras in car? I am indeed getting old.

Except for you; you can touch me.

The combustion engine is here to stay

The internal combustion engine is forever… at least until the electric motor proliferates fully and take over the automotive landscape. For now, like fervent NRA gun owners, you will take the gasoline engine from my cold and dead body.

An enormous factor to driving enjoyment is the sweet sounds emanating from the engine bay (preferably from a natural-aspirated motor), and as we all know, the electric motor merely hums; it’s so quiet that the government have to implement in sound regulations just so blind persons on a sidewalk are able to detect an oncoming vehicle.

The lack of noise is not a knock against electric cars: having ridden in a Tesla I think they are fantastic, and crucially far kinder to the fragile environment. For a car enthusiasts however, electric is a bit of a one trick pony: its accelerative properties are face-tearing and world-beating indeed, but in terms of driving fun, that’s really about it. Until they’ve engineered more energy density into the batteries, these two-ton electric cars can’t possible dream of handling like a traditional sports car.

Not that that matters to the general public. It’s been reported that in the last quarter, Tesla outsold the venerable Mercedes-Benz in America, so there’s proper appetite for these lumbering electric barges. Mercedes-Benz have taken notice, and will soon produce the EQC, the company’s first ever completely electric car. Audi will be entering the market as well with the e-tron SUV. BMW isn’t likely to delay much longer in delivering an electric SUV in its “i” family of vehicles.

Jaguar is wondering why isn’t anybody noticing their all-electric I-PACE that’s on sale now.

No surprise the big three German luxury automakers have elected the SUV as platform of choice for their respective EVs. It’s a smart move: sports-utilities of all shapes and sizes are flying off dealer lots, leaving the traditional sedans in the rear-view. Also important is that Tesla currently hasn’t got an SUV in its lineup (the Model X is a glorified minivan), so that’s a market opportunity to capitalize on.

With mainstream auto manufacturers joining the Tesla market, does this signal the beginning of the mass proliferation of electric-vehicles? Will the combustion engine soon be relegated to the halls of automotive museums? I reckon it is indeed the beginning of the shift, but the trajectory will be immensely long. The technology and infrastructure is not yet competitive against the typical gas station. Until a car can be fully charged from empty in less than 10 minutes, and one doesn’t need to strategically plan just to find a station, the electric car will remain a very nice novelty.

Because there’s also the matter of entry cost: the current crop of electric cars capable of going beyond 200 miles on a single “tank” (sorry, Nissan Leaf) are beyond the reach of the typical customer. Over 17 million cars are sold in America each year; it’ll take quite some time and effort before electric-vehicles will show up on the pie-chart.

My beloved internal combustion engine will be here to stay for a long time.

Weekend recreation.