From the July 1984 issue of Car and Driver.
And you thought we had risked it all racing up and down treacherous mountain passes to name the Camaro Z28 the best-handling American car (C/D, May). Well, we’re back on the rock, dancing with the same seraphim of the Angeles Forest, but we’ve upped the ante to eight contestants—over a quarter of a million dollars’ worth of turbocharged, four-valved, double-over-head-cammed heart stoppers. The part that hasn’t changed much is the mission. We’ve brought imported machines to the mount this time, but the challenge once again is to find the best-handling automobile of the lot.
As before, this is a pure roadability investigation. No acceleration figures or braking distances were allowed to confuse the proceedings. Price was not a factor, either: a quick check of the vital statistics will reveal window stickers ranging from $10,345 to $50,000. Any current model that United States on a passport was a potential contender.
At the start we had no intention of testing eight cars to ascertain the best import, but once the floor was open to nominations, the kid-in-a-candy-store phenomenon took over. We wanted representatives from all over the globe, a mix of the affordable and the exotic, and a variety of powertrain layouts. We purposely sought out several highly reputed brands and a couple of Johnny-come-lately challengers. Ferrari, Lotus, and Porsche had to be represented if this was to be a legitimate exercise, but that raised the question of which Porsche. We answered it by inviting all three of Ferry’s finest. The Audi Quattro is one of the boldest handling experiments ever to press rubber to the road, so we had to have the four-wheel-driver, even though only a handful are sold here each year. Since front-wheel drive made such a great impression in our last test, it seemed imperative to consider a front-driver this time around. Before we knew it, our best-handling shopping cart contained a two-door sedan and seven coupes; an all-wheel-driver, a front-driver, and six rear-drivers. Front-, mid-, and rear-engined layouts are all represented, though we did not make room for a mid-engined, front-drive station wagon. Maybe next time.
Rounding up the rolling stock and the personnel to keep it rolling was no mean feat in itself. Ferrari North America bowed out, claiming that its entire West Coast stock of Quattrovalvoles had been sold! Fortunately, Mike Sheehan of European Auto Restoration in Costa Mesa, California, stepped into the breach to lend us a 1984 coupe off his gray-market lot. A Quattro had to be trucked in from a Gulf Coast port at the last minute, so of course the driver fell ill on the road. And although we intended to keep the original six-person jury intact for this second round of tests, Jean Lindamood missed the action because of an injury. (Her separated shoulder is on the mend.) The sixth seat was capably filled by Patrick Bedard, C/D editor at large.
The battery of subjective and objective handling tests tooled up for the American-made cars had worked so well that little fine-tuning was deemed necessary for this round. We allotted more time to study on-center handling, and we applied a new photoelectric timing device to several of our track tests. Since the SCCA gymkhana course at the Chrysler-Shelby Performance Center had become a tractor-trailer parking lot, we laid out our own array of cones at the Los Angeles County Fairgrounds.
As usual, you’ll find a blizzard of performance statistics sprinkled throughout the next few pages, but don’t pay too much attention to individual test scores or racetrack results. What’s most important here is the bottom line; we’ve determined the best-handling import with a single, easy-to-understand subjective vote. The path to that determination starts right here.
The Test Track
Confirming impressions is what the test track is all about. It’s a safe place to explore the extremes of a car’s behavior. In the process, we define performance limits and probe handling characteristics that can’t be fully studied on the street.
We put the best-handling-import contenders through the same track tests to which we subjected the domestic candidates in May, at the same test facility. These included both smooth and rough skidpads, a 900-foot slalom, a lane-change maneuver, combined acceleration and cornering, and combined braking and cornering. We made a few minor procedural alterations, but the results reported here should be comparable with the measurements taken two months ago. We also ran each car through an SCCA Pro Solo gymkhana course, as before, but a slightly slower layout than the one we used in May.
The Porsche 911 Carrera with the optional Turbo chassis took top honors in both skidpad tests, managing 0.84 g on the smooth circle and 0.82 on the bumpy one. In each case, it displayed the classic 911 traits of power-on understeer and power-off oversteer, with a fine line between the two. The Carrera’s ability to absorb the rough circle’s peaks and valleys without ever bottoming its suspension was most impressive.
The Porsche 944 displayed similar characteristics, but with a softer transition between oversteer and understeer. It circulated at 0.82 g on the smooth pad and at 0.81 g on the rough circle, but in the latter test it suffered much bobbing and an occasional bottoming crash. The Toyota Supra and the Porsche 928 behaved in a similar fashion, though both demonstrated less grip. The Ferrari scored in the same group, but once its tail swung beyond a certain point, there was no catching it; its loose rear end was especially noticeable on the bumpy circle, where its slow, heavy steering wasn’t much help in managing its wayward tail. The Lotus Esprit Turbo also tended to swing its tail in lift-throttle situations; its steering would go light at the same time, confusing the driver by implying an understeer that wasn’t really present.
In contrast to these cars, the Honda Prelude and the Audi Quattro cornered purely in an understeer mode. Both could be pushed to their limits under power and held there by lifting off when necessary. The Prelude responded instantly to this throttle change by tucking in its nose. The Quattro behaved similarly, though more sluggishly.
Our lane-change and slalom tests both demand controllability in addition to adhesion, though the lane change is the more forgiving of the two. The Esprit provided the best way to compare the relative severity of the two tests: it was by far the fastest lane changer (thanks to its extremely quick turn-in response), but its nonlinear-steering and tail-wagging tendencies hurt it in the more repetitive slalom test. The Porsche 944 exhibited the opposite characteristics: its superb controllability helped produce the fastest slalom-course speed, but it fell to fourth place in the lane-change event.
The 911 Carrera was quite capable through both courses, but only when driven below its limits. A little too much speed, and it started sliding past the point where recovery was possible. The 308 also had to be driven very carefully to its second-best slalom clocking, but its lane-change performance was hampered by slow steering. The Honda Prelude was much easier to drive in these tests, its performance being limited largely by a lack of grip.
The Quattro and the 928 were the poorest finishers in the transient tests. Both cars demonstrated their bulky and heavy natures by resisting sudden directional changes, and the effect was magnified by ponderous steering. The Quattro was further hindered by a two-step response to sudden steering inputs, which made it difficult to position accurately.
In our combined cornering-and-braking test, the Esprit again demonstrated its excellent turn-in ability, and its tail-end high-jinks were easy to check in this one-shot maneuver. The Ferrari, the 944, and the Carrera also felt quite capable: all three had useful tail-out tendencies. The Supra and the 928 exhibited similar behavior, but they hung out their tails at lower speeds because of their lower traction limits.
Interestingly enough, the Quattro kicked out its tail during the turn-and-brake phase of the test, but it promptly shifted into heavy understeer when a throttle correction was applied. The Prelude was also hindered by an excessive dependence on its front tires. The feeling was secure, but also very slow. The ability to accelerate out of a corner at the limit obviously depends on the power available, so it’s not too surprising that the 308 was the quickest of several very quick cars in our cornering-while-accelerating test. It had enough understeer to allow an early, heavy power application. The Carrera, the Quattro, the 944, and the Prelude also reacted to power with controllable understeer. The Esprit, the Supra, and the 928 tended to hang out their tails when power was applied, to the detriment of their exit speeds.
The gymkhana course also depends on power for quick times, but it’s still a useful gauge of low-speed handling. The 911 Carrera was the quickest car in this test, thanks to abundant power, excellent grip, and easy below-the-limit controllability. The Lotus was nearly as quick but far harder to drive; it was helped by its nimble directional-changing ability but hurt by its turbo lag, tail-happiness, and unsupportive seat. The Ferrari was not far behind; it had tenacious grip and excellent power but was again hampered by its heavy, slow steering. The 944 was equally quick; it was easy to drive but suffered from too much understeer.
Surprisingly, the front-drive Prelude showed little understeer in the gymkhana. It trail-braked nicely, and its light, quick steering was perfect for the tight course. In contrast, the power-steering units in the Supra and the Quattro lost their assist in the course’s tight turns, hindering their progress. The Supra also tended to spin its inside rear tire uselessly, and the Quattro didn’t like the course’s sudden directional changes. Nor did the 928, which alternated between excessive plowing and wagging its tail between the tight cones.
The Racetrack
Racetracks provide a sort of theoretical test of handling. Each turn is practiced to perfection, and every inch of the road can be used without fear of oncoming traffic, which means that track operation is pretty much irrelevant to what happens on the street. But track operation also cuts through all the excuses. There is no way a car can hide its handling quirks. If it’s ornery at the limit, you find out immediately.
Only a few years ago, there wasn’t a production car alive that would acquit itself with honor on a racetrack; they would all fall to their knees when pushed. What’s remarkable about this test is that four of the contestants behaved with true poise at the limit. (Curiously, the eight test cars fell into two groups: those with poise and those with speed. The fast ones were far more challenging to keep on the pavement, and this had nothing to do with being overpowered. They just didn’t handle as well.) The high marks go to the Prelude, the Supra, the Quattro, and the 944. Willow Springs put forth its damnedest—constant-radius tire squealers, cresting turns, plummeting turns, ultra-high-speed sweepers, and the nasty, decreasing-radius Turn Nine—and these four took it all with aplomb.
The Honda was the slowest of all the cars, averaging 78.8 mph for a lap of Willow. Its modest power holds it back. Its handling, however, is delightful: very light to the touch and quick to respond. The 70-series Bridgestones aren’t terribly sticky, but the car seems perfectly tailored to what grip they do have. You can use it all. The chassis is so predictable you needn’t leave big margins. As you would expect of a front-driver, there is understeer with power and tuck-in when you lift. The special joy of the Honda is that it seems to have exactly the right amount of each, which is to say, not much.
The idea that Japan can’t build good-handling cars is hereby put to rest. The Supra also earned a berth in the “poised” group, with a mild understeering tendency that it maintains over a broad range of operation. It’s calm and stable, almost relaxing to drive hard. No bad habits wait to trip you up. Only a pedal placement that prevents heel-and-toeing keeps this car from showing its best at the track.
If this lead group proves anything, it’s that good street-car handling is not the sole province of any one driveline configuration: we had a front-driver, two rear-drivers, and a four-wheel-driver. The Quattro is too big a car with too little horsepower to produce fantastic lap times, but its R-coded Pirelli P7s did supply amazing grip and its four-wheel drive ensured unflappable stability. This car has a clear and predictable preference for understeer; no matter how you hack at the wheel or play the pedals, that’s what it does. If you’re into a turn too hot, easing off the power reduces speed, bringing the car back into line. But there’s no tuck-in when you lift, just understeer. When it comes to spin-out resistance, the Quattro easily leads the league.
There is a strong family resemblance in Porsches, yet we much prefer the 944. There probably isn’t another volume-produced car anywhere that takes to the track as well. The controls are positioned exactly right, and the car is wonderfully tolerant at the limit. Understeer is gentle under power, replaced by a nice tuck-in when you lift. In part because of the gradual nature of the Pirelli P6s, the 944 is terrifically slidable. Both ends seem to let go simultaneously and then reattach themselves to the pavement in the same controllable way.
The Pirelli P7s on the 928 have a sharper breakaway; combined with the car’s clear preference for tail-out cornering, they make for far trickier handling. Still, the 928 was about a second a lap faster than the 944, and only two seconds slower than the 911, the Lotus, and the Ferrari, which turned in virtually identical times. Had we been able to get a 928 with a five-speed manual transmission instead of a four-speed automatic, the car would probably have finished closer to the top group, though it would have been no less tricky.
The Lotus and the Ferrari, each in its own way, are even more difficult. The Ferrari’s bus-driver wheel position makes fast, accurate steering almost impossible. Our 308 suffered from a sticking throttle as well. At low speeds there is strong understeer, melting away to a nervous, on-edge feeling in turns above 100 mph, probably because of aerodynamic lifting of the nose.
The Lotus is a purveyor of odd and usually unpleasant messages to its driver. As cornering forces build, its steering gets light, even in the face of clear understeer. Turning into corners is nasty: after an initial steer in, you must quickly steer out to keep the tail from coming around. In the undulating, high-speed sweeper at Willow, the car was so darty that the driver would never again take it flat out after the first lap. Both the Lotus and the Ferrari are fast cars, but you have to grit your teeth to get the most out of them.
Surprisingly, the 911 was within a tenth of a second of the Ferrari, and it exhibited no trauma at all. It has fantastic steering: the forces build in direct proportion to cornering force. You can feel what you’re doing in this car: it sends clear messages to its driver. The big one is, “Don’t get off the power in turns.” If you pay attention, you can get around very quickly in this car and have a great time doing it.
Racetrack and cone courses are fine for satisfying curiosity and investigating handling off the beaten path, but what matters most is an automobile’s real-life performance. What follows is as real as we can make it, the straight scoop from our Angeles Forest Highway logbooks.
Lotus Esprit Turbo: Gorgeous to Look at, but . . .
This car could be rechristened the Lotus Enigma. We all know what knee-high, mid-engined two-seaters with Lotus nameplates are supposed to be good for. Blurring the scenery, that’s what. Making your sports-car-lovin’ heart beat fast.
So it comes as a surprise that our testers ended up saying, “Great ride” (Sherman) and “Ride is wonderful on this choppy mountain road” (Csere). And lambasting its handling: “At seven- or eight-tenths, it comes unglued, unpredictable” (Sherman). “Start pushing it the way its looks and power say you ought to, and the damn thing starts flopping around like a dying fish” (Lyons). “Twitchy and ornery” (Bedard). “A snap spin is probably in the cards for a beginner” (Ceppos).
Lotus spokesmen have told us of their goals for this car. They wanted a highspeed express, something in which a well-heeled European could jet across the Continent at triple-digit speeds in the company of one friend and minimal luggage. It had to be fast and comfortable, because a guy spending this much money doesn’t want to be beaten up by his own machine.
The compromise for comfort is what produces the enigma, we think. A car so low and cramped inside is never going to be comfortable. “Shoes over size ten begin to get tangled in the pedals” (Bedard). “The shifter falls readily to elbow” (Ceppos). “Gives me a sit-in-a-hole feeling” (Sherman). Lotus did, however, soften the suspension: soft springs, soft shocks, soft bushings, particularly in the rear. The result is a wow-wee looker that rides well.
In routine freeway driving, or trolling on Sunset Boulevard, this works out fine (assuming you like the Esprit Turbo’s appearance). The steering is light and sharp on center—”the classic manual-steering feel,” according to one tester. “The gearbox is a delight around town,” said another. “Engine is splendid once the boost comes up,” said yet another.
Yet the Esprit always reminds one that it’s not really constructed for comfort and convenience. The wide windshield pillars intrude on your vision, the wheel is so high you’re forced into a praying-mantis position, and the seat shape keeps trying to submarine you under the belts. Of course, none of these intrusions are too surprising. In a Lotus, everything is subjugated to the one, true quality of a sports car, and that’s handling.
Well, not this time. A Lotus engineer explained to us that ride is very important in Europe and the Esprit’s ride has been substantially improved by the use of soft bushings at the forward ends of the rear-suspension trailing arms. He concedes that this does produce a measurable amount of deflection steer in back, but European drivers don’t seem to mind.
We find ourselves minding terribly much. To a man, the testers disapproved of the Esprit’s behavior when driven hard. And if you can’t drive hard in a Lotus, what’s it good for?
Ferrari 308 Quattrovalvole: A Fine Mistress, a Poor Wife
Ferrari North America failed to deliver a test car representative of current production. Left to our own foraging, we turned up something at least as interesting: a low-mileage, gray-market example certified by an independent lab. It had Michelin TRX tires, as 308s had for years until they were replaced by Goodyear NCTs for 1984. Except for a few details such as a sticking throttle and a steering-wheel position higher and flatter than we recall in any other 308, it was a fine example of the breed. The engine was especially strong and zingy; the car felt light and frisky. In other words, a car like this could give Ferrari a good name in this country.
The testers’ comments seemed unanimous. Ceppos could have been speaking for the entire corps when he noted, “Good brakes, intoxicating engine sound, stable low-speed understeer, awful driving position.” The 308 Ferrari probably fits someone on this planet, but he doesn’t work here. Sherman’s knuckles rubbed the instrument panel at the top of the steering wheel. Bedard could barely reach that far when his seat was set at the proper distance from the pedals. All complained about the hot spot reflected into the windshield from the top of the instrument panel. Nobody cared much for the seat, finding it thin and hard and not particularly supportive of any part of the anatomy. Sherman observed that the instruments and the switches seemed to be casually sprinkled around the cockpit.
Typical of Ferrari practice is the friction in the steering. “The wheel can be turned and released, and it won’t return to straight ahead, not even close,” said Csere. “About half a turn from center the friction increases greatly; then toward three-quarters of a turn it drops way off to less than on-center,” added Lyons. “Weird non-linearities as you turn away from center,” confirmed Bedard. Sherman observed “occasional giant kickbacks in the wheel, particularly over low-speed bumps.” Without the friction, the kicks would be worse. The Quattrovalvole’s suspension is highly damped, not moving much over the road yet reasonably soft in ride. Road adhesion is conspicuously good. In fast mountain driving, the Ferrari gets around with little slipping and sliding. “During throttle lift-off at my cornering speed, there is only a mild reduction of understeer—no serious threat of the tail stepping out,” said Lyons. “Very predictable with lots of understeer, but it never really plow’s,” said Csere.
The consensus is that the Ferrari is good fun when you feel like sporting around but a bit tight in the seams and pointy in the toes for everyday wear. And if you pay attention to business when the engine noise gets loud, probably the only trouble it will get you into will be with the cops.
Porsche 911 Turbo: Hanging in There
Strong feelings and Porsches go hand in hand. You won’t find a more fiercely loyal owner body than Porschephiles, and our experience with the Carrera was likewise powerful. The consensus on the latest rendition of the ageless 911 is a mix of bubbling enthusiasm for its virtues, tempered with a healthy respect for its vices. “This is not a subtle car,” said Csere.
The Carrera proved to be a triumph of painstaking development over antiquated design. The Son-of-Beetle rear-engine layout with its tail-heavy weight bias shouldn’t work this well, but here is the Carrera, in its twentieth year, hanging in there with the best of them. On the test track our Carrera—outfitted with the limited-edition 930 Turbo bodywork, brakes, suspension, and wide wheels—blew the rest of the group away with the highest composite score. On the racecourse it was fast enough to turn in the third-fastest lap time and the quickest Turn Five speed.
In the acid test of street driving, the results weren’t nearly as lopsided, but the reviews were never neutral. On the plus side, just about everyone agreed that the Carrera gives you a first-class office for your driving business. “Excellent seats, steering wheel, and ergonomics,” commented Sherman. “The driving position is good,” added Csere. About the only shortcoming is the near impossibility of heel-and-toeing, but since the Carrera’s pedals are to some extent adjustable, it shouldn’t be too hard to help this disability.
The Carrera’s greatest gift, our merry band of testers agreed, is its forthrightness. In hard driving, “understeer and oversteer are honestly telegraphed,” wrote Griffin. Bedard praised the steering: “No nervous corrections are required. Just wind it into the apex and then unwind.” Griffin summed up the commendations: “I love it because it says, ‘Here’s the deal.’ Sensational brakes, minimal dive, and tight steering are the saviors of this layout.”
But there’s another, darker side to the Carrera character. “It makes my palms sweat,” wrote Ceppos. “All the multifarious messages,” said Lyons, “add up to ‘Don’t tread on me.’ “
What they’re talking about is the 911 series’ well-known disdain for lift-throttle cornering. Snap the throttle closed in the midst of an acrobatic maneuver, and the Carrera’s tail will do a heart-fluttering step sideways. Happily, the Carrera is very stable when cornering hard on the throttle or on the brakes, but never getting caught out takes stern concentration indeed. “This car requires a deliberate driving style,” noted Csere.
“It makes my palms sweat, too,” wrote Bedard, but he wasn’t specifically referring to the Carrera’s handling. “How do they make a car with no weight up front steer so heavy?”
Ultimately, though, it was the level of mental, not physical, effort demanded by the Carrera that kept it from climbing higher in the pecking order. “This one will do for crazy fun,” Sherman observed, “but you have to pay so much attention that it makes me wonder if it’s really worth it.”
Porsche 928S: Heavyweight Champion
The Porsche 928S was the widest, heaviest, and most powerful car in the group, and these characteristics created a sense of massiveness that dominated most of our impressions. Everyone noted its unswerving straight-line stability and self-centering steering feel. “Excellent tracking. Feels almost as if on rails,” Csere observed. Ceppos found the 928 to have the “closest thing to manual steering I’ve ever felt in a power-steering car.”
Its size also allowed plenty of room for comfortable and ergonomically correct interior accommodations. “The adjustable dash pod and steering wheel make it easy for me to get a perfect driving position,” noted Griffin. Sherman fully agreed: “Perfect ergonomics, comfortable, hard to improve on. Excellent seat, visibility, transmission, and steering wheel.”
But in the twisties, the 928’s bulk did not serve it so well. Lyons called it “an overly pompous, lard-assed German—ponderous, clunky, clumsy, and overweight. This car is not happy doing this.”
Griffin concurred: “The 928 never entirely loses its impression of bigness, of being a monster mutha on the roll—high, wide, and handsome.” Bedard called it “big and cushy and isolated—very quick for its avoirdupois.”
Much of this ponderous feeling came from the same high-effort, strongly damped steering that contributes so much to the 928’s straight-line stability. Unfortunately, the heavy steering suggests a lack of agility. Several drivers felt that the high centering effort muddled the messages coming from the front tires. Lyons described it as “a swaddled feeling. Driving the 928 is like wielding a golf club or a tennis racket with oven mitts on.”
However, the 928 can react very capably when given the proper control inputs. Ceppos said it provides “my idea of fabulous handling. This car’s seat-of-the-pants feel is superb. The tires give you lots of warning, and you can work both ends of the car as you see fit. Fantastic.”
Others, though, found a bit more over-steer than they liked: Griffin criticized its “tendency to hang its tail out like wash on the line, and with very little provocation.” Bedard also found that it tended to “hang its tail out during transitions.”
Yet everyone found an unbreakable, confidence-inspiring quality in the 928. Bumps, holes, and differing road surfaces never upset its ride or equilibrium. Lyons described it best: “Little complaints are totally overwhelmed by the tremendous sensation of competence this car exudes.”
That’s high praise for any car, but not necessarily the key to great handling. Great-handling cars should want to be driven hard and should urge their drivers to use their capabilities. The 928S has sufficient reserve within its 3440-pound soul to answer nearly any demand, but it prefers that you not ask too much too often.
Toyota Celica Supra: Japan Ascending
It’s been four model years now that America’s number-one importer has been claiming this car has “the right stuff.” In most respects we agree. We generally like the Supra, and we were pleased with how well it held its own against the tough opposition it faced in the Angeles Forest.
The fine twin-cam 2.8-liter six remains a large factor in the Supra’s basic appeal. In fact, as one tester noted, “the best part of the car’s handling may be its engine. Always there, always willing, so torquey it almost never asks for a shift. Quiet and smooth, too.” In Japanese fashion, the clutch and gearshift operations are so easy and pleasant they make the whole vehicle seem “user-friendly.”
The famous Supra driver’s seat struck most of us as excellent; the subjective ballot shows that we voted it the best in the test. Everyone liked the overall cockpit ergonomics as well, though some felt the steering wheel could be improved on (wanted: some place to put your thumbs), and one driver thought it high time Toyota rearranged the pedals for easier heel-and-toe operation.
Steering feel is not this car’s finest point. Nearly everyone noted a numbness in the on-center position while cruising the freeways during the test. The front tires also had a mild tendency to follow longitudinal rain grooves. Off-center, the dead zone was replaced by a firmness that generated a more satisfying sensation; yet when cornering speeds were really cranked up, most wished for more feeling and feedback. “You steer purely by wheel angle,” complained Bedard. “I found myself making unnecessary right-lefts in turns, just because I didn’t have the right information from the steering.”
On the lurch-provoking mountain roads, some testers would have appreciated a lower chassis stance and perhaps stiffer anti-sway bars. Not that the Supra behaves badly in these conditions—it’s hard to find any conditions that make the Supra behave badly—but it does start feeling a little flustered and breathless earlier than a few of its rivals. In extremis handling can get a bit wobbly.
That’s not because of any lack of basic adhesion. The Potenzas work quite well, and the cornering limit is signaled by a progressive, comparatively mild understeer. This is a benign quality that is not spoiled by the equally progressive, basically mild step-out of the tail when you lift your foot. Very much like the highly controllable 944, and somewhat like the more infamous 911, the Supra can be nicely balanced through a bend with delicate throttle movements. That’s fun and satisfying. “Quite easy to drive like a demon,” noted Sherman. Sharper bumps, though, do induce a fleeting instability while the rear axle takes a set.
The Supra is a jack-of-all-trades sort of car. It doesn’t do any specific thing as well as some other cars, it lacks some final degree of the overall refinement offered by a few in our test, but it does everything across the automotive spectrum well enough to provide genuine driving satisfaction. The fact that the Supra costs less than half as much as most of the machinery in this test doesn’t hurt its case, either.
Audi Quattro Turbo: All-Wheel Drive, No Jive
This four-wheeling supersedan—considerably improved for ’84—was preceded by an imposing reputation. In many performance areas we were not disappointed.
Most of us, though, had trouble with the seat. Griffin compared the Audi’s front bucket to an orange crate; Ceppos said the seatback seemed to be “ballooning”; others simply complained of inadequate lateral support. Sherman did note that the thigh support was good, and he called the steering wheel “ideal.”
In terms of the steering itself, most testers declared this another car with an on-center dead zone and a lack of feel away from center. Sherman called it too slow. Bedard reported: “There is no effort buildup to coordinate with cornering force. You end up steering by wheel angle only.”
The unhappy steering contributed to the marks the Audi lost on the freeway segments of our test because of the uneasy feeling it generated while changing lanes. Minor steering inputs seemed to cause an excessive amount of body roll, and the car required constant attention to hold a line. In view of the car’s tendency to pitch and wallow, the ride quality struck some as inordinately harsh.
The Quattro’s good side came out on the mountain roads. “Hard to find serious fault,” Csere noted. “A lot of adhesion, great stability, good brakes, excellent turn-in capability, and very good manners.” Ceppos said it didn’t have the cool, calm confidence of, say, the 928, “but you can boogie with it.” Lyons likened the feel to that of the Prelude, where he felt at home and able to go fast immediately, but with acceleration and adhesion added. “More car here than I really need or can use,” he went on. “But, unlike some of those performance cars that give me the same impression, the Quattro Turbo contrives to do it in a friendly way. It doesn’t intimidate. It gives me messages that keep assuring me, ‘Hey, sure, stay with it, buddy. You can handle it.’ “
The road surfaces we encountered did not permit us to test all the potential advantages of four-wheel drive, but it was interesting to play with the three differential-locking options on the twistiest mountain sections. The differences were subtle: with the center and rear diffs locked, there was a comfortable trace of understeer near the limit; with both lockers free (the normal dry-pavement mode), the car seemed comparatively neutral, and there was also a trifle more tail-out available by lifting off the gas pedal.
The turbocharged five-cylinder engine offered plenty of power, even at mile-high altitude, and also contributed a strong-sounding, almost strumming note that kept us impressed with how much machinery was in our hands.
An interesting car, impressive and definitely worth more exploration. The testers agreed that there is a lot of potential left in the design.
Front-Drive Fans, Unite!
We’re flying at very high altitude here. The Honda Prelude is the only car in this test with front-wheel drive, it’s by far the least expensive, and it has proved more than a match for every car but one.
The Prelude didn’t win outright, but it is so good that it must be considered a true ace. The piercing of California’s mountains by this feisty little rice rocket quickly escalated our studied commentary into a crescendo of glad tidings.
“The variable-assist power steering is very light at low speeds and then progresses to fine firmness at high speeds,” said Griffin. “Tracks better at 80 than at 60.” Csere found the steering “good, tight, with no lost motion. But effort is low. Wheel doesn’t tend to return to center.”
Sherman had high praise for the Prelude: “Great car. Excellent ergonomics. Easy to drive. Good directional stability, but a touch of wander. Quick and responsive off-center. Good linearity.”
Bedard liked “this low-effort steering. Sharp enough that you don’t have to worry it—just go on instinct. With the Porsches, you are always conscious of steering.” Ceppos, however, noted that, although the Prelude “doesn’t steer like the cheapest car in the group, it doesn’t quite have the 944’s laser-accurate tracking, either.”
Lyons took a broad view: “No wonder these are so popular. It’s as pretty in its functioning as it is to look at. If you don’t ask too much, the Prelude is steady, comfortable, willing.”
Then we latched onto the mountains.
“Absolutely no treachery,” said Bedard. “It telegraphs every move. A novice could be warned back from disaster.” Ceppos termed the Prelude “one of the nicest-driving all-around cars ever. Nothing tricky about going quickly, but an expert can play the controls to make it do just about anything.” “Dead pedal okay,” said Sherman, but added, “Wheel needs thumb spokes.”
“Good grip,” wrote Csere, “but, more important, the Prelude’s extremely secure. Understeer can be killed instantly by just lifting. Brakes strong, progressive. Can be braked and turned at the same time. Generally extremely forgiving—and fast!!!”
“I love it,” said Griffin. “A stupendous value. Sails through this as if there were no obstacles. Far and away the most stable. I’d buy one like a shot and wouldn’t change a thing—well, another 30 hp under the hood would be grins.”
Lyons: “You follow the Lotus in this car, see it wobble, and wonder why. You can corner with the 928 and the 911. Power lets them pull ahead, but not by much.”
In our book, the superb Honda Prelude is the second-best-handling foreign car any amount of money can buy.
All Hail the Proud Victor
The Porsche 944 is the best-handling imported car. It will easily zig past the near great and easily zag with the truly great in their brightest moments of glory.
Wild-eyed Porschephiles will tell you a win by one of their own was predictable. Haters of the marque will say it’s bogus because C/D inevitably pays homage to all Teutonic machines. But the 944 won overall simply because, in its remarkably complex but also wonderfully integrated way, it has no all-around equal.
“Power steering light but accurate,” said Griffin. “Much road noise—how uncivilized—but steering and chassis ignore pavement trivia.”
Csere: “Fine steering, no lost motion.”
Jazzman Ceppos: “Very refined except for Gene Krupa snare drums over every tar strip and Botts dot. But tracks like a bullet.”
“Force buildup just off center is much greater than in manual-steering 911,” said Bedard. “Prefer the 944. Great steering.”
“No steering kick,” said Sherman. “Ergonomics great, though wheel is low. All systems go.”
Lyons found it “hard to believe the 944 is built by the same company that makes the 911—feels modern but inexpensive. Leans too much.”
Sherman: “Confidence-inspiring. Easy to learn. Terrific turn-in, linearity, brakes, engine, dead pedal, ride and handling over bumps. Needs the better thigh retention of optional sport seat. Carves up corners the way you want. Great piece!”
“Miss grip of P7s with P6s,” said Lyons, “and also iron-fist mechanical feel of 911. A boulevardier by comparison, but can play grip at front and back to heart’s content. A benign chassis.”
“Unlike our long-term 944 in Michigan, this one understeers too much,” said Griffin. “As a whole, too civilized after 911, but lovely for full-time transport.”
“Lots of grip and balance. Brakes soft in initial travel but quite good,” said Csere.
“Well-rounded athlete,” said Ceppos. “Not outstanding in any category, but fun. I could go for more stability in tail.”
“Pure magic,” said Bedard. “Tells you everything. Neither end lets go suddenly. Very important: excellent coordination between buildup of cornering force and steering effort and angle. A thoroughbred.”
The 944 offers drama to go, but the blip of the driver’s pulse rises only from the rush of emotional reassurance that comes with every new discovery of its sporting behavior.
A driver need not be a speed master to drown happily in the liquid responses of this car. This is a Porsche, to be loved for what it is as well as for what it can do. We have no doubts at all that the 944 is the best imported handler to be found in America.
Are you surprised by our findings? We certainly were. They make perfect sense when you stop to realize that automobile handling has indeed advanced by leaps and bounds during the past couple of years. The manufacturers inclined to rock back on their laurels and watch the world go by are bound to suffer, while the up-and-comers who eagerly exploit the latest tire and suspension technologies advance their causes tremendously. Porsche is in the thick of things with the best-handling import in all the land, and a couple of mid-pack finishers to boot. The Japanese have managed to bracket the prestigious Audi Quattro with the Honda Prelude’s fantastic second-overall finish and an equally remarkable fourth overall by the Toyota Supra. You’ll notice a rather sharp drop in the subjective scores on the way down to the Formula 1 crowd—Ferrari and Lotus. The 308 Quattrovalvole and the Esprit Turbo are elderly designs, mid-engined or no, and it’s clear that both their interior accommodations and their steering and suspension components are in need of serious attention.
Now that we’ve determined the best-handling domestic-made car and the best-handling import, there’s only one thing left to do. You guessed it: Chevrolet Camaro Z28 versus Porsche 944 at forty paces. As soon as our g-suits are back from the dry cleaner’s, we’ll be back on the road for the grand finale.
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Source: Reviews - aranddriver.com
